A typical day

“Where are my friends?” Riley asks almost daily. “What have you done with my money?” he accuses. “How did I get so sick?” “Why are you keeping me prisoner here?” “Get me out of this bed!”

I answer him as honestly as I can, but my answers are met with hostility. Such is the life of a caretaker of a very end-stage alcoholic. Although I’ve been told he has less than six months, I know from past experience that this could go on much, much, longer. I don’t know if my health will allow me to see this all the way through to Riley’s end.

There is a light and it is NOT an on-coming train. He might be accepted into the Vet’s Hospice Program and be placed in the hospice unit at the VA hospital. He would be allowed to stay there for six months. What a blessing that would be!
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