There are times when a line must be drawn. I drew one this afternoon. From my upstairs office, I heard my partner call me for help, no "please," no pleasantries.
I found him on his back at the foot of the stairs to the lower level. He should have had a cane, but it was some distance away. His cell phone was on the main level. The house phone, with intercom, was out of reach. Shouting was his only option.
He wanted help getting up, which I was disinclined to provide without more detail. I asked whether he needed paramedics; he declined. After some discussion, I provided him a cane, and he arose, slowly, and climbed the stairs. I walked behind him, experiencing that particular fragrance which only accompanies those who have gone four days or more without bathing. I described my senses aloud in very direct terms. He responded immediately and appropriately, taking an immediate shower.
So, that's where we are at the moment. He just came out of the bathroom, normal speed, cane in hand, clean and fragrant, and sat down in the easy chair. When I attempted to complete this blog, he arose and left. He was not as unsteady as he appeared thirty minutes ago.
What am I to do with this? This week, I am attempting to impress upon him that I am not his valet, nanny or nursemaid. I proposed to him that he consider registering with a rehab center. He has not honored that proposal with a response. This will be a lengthy rehabilitation exercise for our partnership, I suspect.