The roommate is still in the hospital. He sounded better today than he did yesterday. Hopefully he'll be out soon. Out and better. There's no point in him coming home unless he's healing. He doesn't like being there and he can't sleep well. He can't sleep well at home either and there is no medicine or nurses.
I managed to get the trash to the curb. After getting back into town, taking the trash to the curb was my goal. It happened, but it was slow. It was rough. When I was finished, I almost felt like crying. I did cry later. He needed to know where something was and I couldn't find it. I had to tell him I'd call him back and had a panic attack of hopelessness. Once I calmed down, I pulled my rolly chair into the living room, forced myself to focus, and found what he wanted.
The cats are upset. I'm not surprised. He's their world. They love him so much and he gives them a lot of attention. One of them likes me but the other one just sees me as the person who deals with the litter box. I'll keep them in food and water until he gets back. Maybe the other one will warm up to me a little. This is doubtful.
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