3 Strokes And You're Out

I’ve had this client for about 5 years.. He’s not a friend, just a client, though a good one. Unfortunately, the guy is a total mess, and he’s been getting worse year by year. I can’t tell you why he let things get to this point. I doubt he knows himself. I think the polite way of saying it is that he’s one of those people you get the feeling has never really thought too much about himself. I’m not so sure I get that about people. I have a pretty healthy respect for introspection. Best I could tell, he has no life, but then I’m a pretty judgemental bastard.

Anyhow, a few years ago, this guy had a stroke and then a year later, another. The first one didn’t seem that bad, but the 2nd one left some real damage though you’ll have to go elsewhere for a full neurological workup. After each, he kept on smoking, he kept on drinking coffee, he kept on eating poorly. He kept on doing the things that will kill you if you are in his situation. From where I’m standing, he couldn’t help himself and he felt like he didn’t have too much to live for, and that probably always leads to self destruction.

After both strokes I helped this guy out. I let his ungrateful incontinent mother stay in my apartment to be near the hospital. I did hours of work that I didn’t ask to be reimbursed for. I went to the hospital. I said the right things. I saw tears. I honestly didn’t need any of it, but I did it because I thought it was the right thing to do. My parents somehow managed to push that idea through.

After the 2nd stroke when I could see that he wasn’t really recovering and he wasn’t really changing, I told him, I wouldn’t get involved again. I didn’t want anything to do with it when the next one came.I told him a thousand times not to smoke, I told him to get out of his horrible little stockroom at the back of his shop. I told him to do something, to paraphrase, do anything. I told him, that when the next one happened, I wasn’t getting the least bit involved.
And of course, the next one came. Last week. He’s in a coma, the doctor’s say pray. I hope he gets better, I really do, though I’m not really sure what the point is.

And I hate myself for thinking like this, I really do. I would do anything I could for the people that I care about most, but I don’t know what the right thing is here. This was something that was no doubt coming. At best, he was powerless to prevent it. At worst, he fucking wanted this on a consicious level.

I’m not planning on going to the hospital, even though I walk past it every day. I’m not really planning on anything. I said I wouldn’t get involved, and right now I’m sticking with that. What do yo think?

Title provide by SpindleGirl