The Best New Eldercare
Cyrus was beginning to feel his age. His body was pretty much shot—his knees were bad, his liver was almost a rotten eggplant, his kidneys were going, his heart would go into spastic fits in the middle of the night. He took a bucket full of medications but the pills were only a stop gap toward complete shutdown.
His mind wasn’t much better. Most days he could remember simple things but once in a while he’d forget what day it was or simple words that he knew but couldn’t quite sum up in conversation. Like his eyesight, his memory was foggy and blurred.
He understood this as he was in his eighties and that’s what happens to humans even when they take good care of themselves and have, as he did, top tier health benefits. He wasn’t ready for a wheelchair yet but he could envision the day coming.
He still had a job, even at his advanced age, but only really worked about five or six hours a week. He had a staff to help him and often only rubber stamped big ticket issues that they told him were important. He trusted them despite not understanding their musical tastes. The kids would read the hundreds of pages he was supposed to read and give him the Cliff Notes version (he wondered if that reference was dated).
He frequently sat in his office and stared out the window, maybe napped in his chair. He was startled out of one of those naps as a young man entered in a rush.
“Senator. It’s time for you to meet with the President.”
Cyrus sighed. It’s always something.
