Willy

Brenda called me at 4:30 last night and offered to take me to see Willy.
I was no sooner in the door of his room when he beckoned for me to go close to him in a nervous voice. "I've got to have a ticket" he said. Something about having to go up North and not paying for the motel.
I tried and tried to figure out what he was worried about and what ticket to where but it was no use, I couldn't.
Then he said his money was running out - how could he be using his money for staying there and yet it wasn't running out. He got very upset. I tried to tell him he was perfectly fine with paying his rent and he was safe where he was and he didn't need a ticket. And he said "You've got to believe me!" and I nearly lost it. I was thinking how bad for him to have these hopeless feelings and think that no one understands what he's worried about. My throat closed in and it was hard not to cry.
He told me to wheel him to the dining room even though it was too soon and he continued to try to make me understand what I could not understand so then he got angry with me so I could not stay any more. I should say I WILL not stay when he gets angry, it's too hurtful.
Yes - yes I know it's not his fault but that is how I protect myself - when it gets bad I will leave.


Maybe I should ask them to give him medicine to calm him down. But I think once again, if I miss a few days, even if I've made sure he knows I won't come if it snows, he gets frightened.


I read my typed piece I am to read on 26th March and it's awful. It is stunted and I think I might be being careful about coming across as too simple. I seem to be only good when I'm writing about my average day which is the strangest thing because my average day is just that, nothing else.
signed average Doris