He's a gosh darned SUCKY liar is what!

WARNING! Vent Post!!!!

I called to let my SUPER annoying friend Tom know I was coming over with food today, and cat food for his friend Dave, and egg cartons for Dave's chicken farm and his voice when saying hello was chipper and upbeat...until he realized it was ME, and suddenly the DRAMA began...his voice went down three octaves...and it was showtime. I asked how he was feeling, and he said he was sick. I asked..."Do you have the flu?"

Tom: "No."

Me: "Is it contagious?"

Tom: "No".

Me: "Well in what way are you sick?"

Tom: " I am just sick all over."

Me: "Well, I have oranges for you, and hamburger, and cheese and bread and snacks. Do you want me to come over?"

Tom, in a die-away voice: "Yes."

I drove to Tom's house. it was a GLORIOUS afternoon!!!!! The sun was shining. The TREES were in FULL color, and the panorama took my breath away. At times, I would see a tree that was SO BEAUTIFUL that tears came to my eyes. I am in love with God's beautiful, beautiful world, and with his creations.

I arrived at Tom's house, texted him that I was there, and he didn't even open the door. He is not answering his texts now, apparently.

I carried ALL the bags up to his door...EIGHT bags...and three of them were VERY heavy! He finally opened the door after I started THROWING the bags down on his little deck and made some noise.

I made my way up the steps and could not get into his house for two reasons...the bags still blocking my way, which I had to carry in, and TOM, bent over double holding onto the doorknob.

The drama that ensued is not to be described. He told me that every time he gets up off the sofa and walks to the door, he begins to black out and wants to throw up.

Me: "Did you call your doctor?"

Tom: "Yes"

Me: "What did she say?"

Tom, with reviving energy: "She said to call her next month!!!"

He told me he wants to call his sister, Margaret, and have her drive all the way from Weymouth, just to sit with him.

Me: " That's a long way for your sister to have to drive just to sit with you. You should call the VA and have them send over a CNA, with a medical background. You should have them here anyway, to cook for you, clean, and help you take a shower!"

He told me that they can't help him take a shower because his bathroom is too small for more than one person to fit.

I told him they would help him get IN to the shower, safely, into his shower seat...and then make sure he got OUT safely. I told him, "THAT'S ALL THEY DO!"

Says he, "Oh, that's not true...because when I was in the hospital and in rehab, they WASHED me. I can't WASH myself. I'm embarrassed. I can't even shave myself."

So here comes the fork in the road. He doesn't STINK, and he doesn't have much more than a light 5 o'clock shadow. AND I KNOW him. He is a liar. He LIES to get pity and sympathy. And I won't give it to him, and that's why he wants his SISTER there. Margaret. She is the sort to cater to him. He doesn't mention his OTHER sister, Linda...who would absolutely NOT put up with his sh!t.

I KNOW how many nurses and CNA's and other medical people have come to his house to try to take care of him, and he FIRES all of them. Mostly because he is a racist asshole. A little skin color, and all of a sudden, he finds SOME other reason why they can't be in his house.

His female DOCTOR is sick of him, too...and offered to put him on in-home hospice care...which he refused...because it would involve NURSES and CNA's...and he would FIRE them.

After an hour, during which I put away his frozen foods, and carried all his groceries into the kitchen, I couldn't stand it anymore, and left.

And I drove home, and looked at all the absolutely GORGEOUS and brilliantly colored trees...one of which was TWO doors down the street from Tom's house...and HE has never SEEN it. He doesn't even know it's there.

I drove and gazed at such beauty all around me on the back roads...and I thanked GOD for the beautiful world HE has given us. And Tom would pop into my mind now and then, like an ugly little jack-in-the-box...and then I would just look at the trees.

Oh...And I forgot! He says he has a hole in his butt...and I certainly do believe THAT. But he has to go to the wound doctor for it on November 9th...and he says he plans to drive HIMSELF there.

I said: "Well, if it is TRUE that you want to pass out and throw up every time you have to walk from the sofa to the door, it would be CRIMINAL for you to get into your truck and drive!"

"Oh", says he, "I will just take it slow".