I have this friend. I've written about him before. He lives in southern California. He is my oldest surviving friend. He is 75, a few years older than me. He has a really bad case of cellulitis in his legs, complicated by obesity.
I know he is worried that he may eventually may lose his legs and so he sits and waits and hopes that this time, with this antibiotic, the infection will eventually give up and go away. We don't ever discuss the possibility that he might lose his legs.
He is not married and while he has contacts and a handful of friends that he talks to each week by telephone, he is largely without friends who come to see him, who visit and talk, or who help him get out to a restaurant or to the grocery store. He thinks his twice-a-week housekeeper is fiddling with his credit card.
He is not poor but he is having difficulty with a reverse mortgage, a difficulty that arose over a dispute with a bad contractor, and as a result, the mortgage company is no longer sending him any money because he refuses to pay the bad contractor. He is holding onto the money that was supposed to be paid to the contractor but hasn't been because the work is so horribly botched.
The local and state building inspectors are sympathetic but they seem to be always reluctant to separate even bad businessmen from money owed to them. Once again the bias in our democracy runs toward business and not toward the little guy.