At Sly's house now.
1. Sly asked Primo to help him pee yesterday. Primo thought it was just that he needed Primo to hand him the bottle. No. Sly wanted a complete assist from Primo. A complete assist. Didn't quite make it and wet the bed. Primo brought home a bag of urine-soaked clothes to wash.
Primo: Maybe he will ask for your help.
Primo: Don't you know what a privilege it is to help him?
Me: The last thing your father wants is for me to have that part of his body in my [vindictive] hand.
Ted: Yeah, Dad tried the same thing with me. All I do is hand it to him. I don't put the pieces together. I did tell Dad that he has a small dick and that's why he keeps missing.
Sometimes I like Ted.]
2. Ted thinks Sly should have a second opinion.
Me: About his diagnosis?
Primo: I don't know.
Me: About the treatment plan? Because there isn't one, It has been a month since his surgery. They have the biopsy. They know it's stage 2 adenocarcinoma. How come nobody has said, even if they are not going to start treatment yet, "This is the standard treatment plan for an 81 year old man with stage 2 adenocarcinoma?"
Primo: He just wants me to do it.
Me: Of course.
Primo: If he wants dad to have a second opinion, he can find the doctor, make the appointment, and take him there himself. But I am pretty comfortable that the guys at Mayo know what they are donig.
3. The house does not reek of cat urine. Ted was wrong. It is also not as horribly cluttered as I remember, but that's because Primo has been throwing junk away.
4. I needed an extra pillow last night and had to figure out how much I wanted one, as my only option was to get one from Sly and Doris' bed.
5. Sleep horrible. The guest bed is cheap and nasty and the cat hurled himself against the door a few times last night, trying to open the knob. I suggested locking the cats in the laundry room with their litter box, but Primo did not like that idea. I was ready to strangle the cat and I am a cat lover.
6. I saw the obituary.
7. I hate being here so much.