My father-in-law, who I dearly love, is sick. He is in danger of falling and needs to have someone with him.
I told my mother-in-law II would do this duty, which involves going to their home each day for about four hours so that she can run errands.
Today is day one. My father in law, who I will call “Bill”, is on the couch and breathing very shallowly, like only ten per cent of his lungs are working.
At one point, I wonder if he had expired, because I did not hear him breathing. But finally, I observed his chest move, in my total relief.
Soon thereafter, he started coughing and hacking, deep rumblings from down in his lungs. Finally, he spit up, into a container. In doing so, he knocked over a full and very large tomato juice all over a very nice and expensive carpet.
I cleaned it up.
This continued all afternoon. I probably did not mention that “Bill” and my mother-in-law are not vaccinated.
My mother-in-law, a real dear and a huge fan of Tucker Carlson, mentioned that “we don’t have COVID” and another remark about their “freedoms”.
This afternoon, after returning, I realized how selfish I have been, worrying about my own safety through all of this.
Thursday, I return. Don’t worry.