One more shelter guest to worry about; just what I needed.

This morning, as the guests at the homeless shelter were getting dressed, one man appeared to be having great difficulty. Anthony (not his real name) looked extremely disoriented, to a point at which he tried to put a glove on his foot!

After he had spent a half-hour trying (and failing) to get himself dressed, I ended up tying Anthony's boot laces, zipping up his coat, and wrapping his scarf around his neck. I asked if he wanted me to take him to the E/R, but Anthony said no.

Instead, I ended up giving both him and another guest a ride to the soup kitchen. As I dropped them off, the other guest said he would keep an eye on Anthony and would call 911 if his condition didn't improve.

During the month or so Anthony has stayed at the shelter, we've had to call an ambulance for him on three separate occasions, and for more than one health problem. I hope his disorientation is nothing serious, but his behavior this morning reminded me a lot of when my late father had a stroke in 1996. Unfortunately, there really wasn't much I could do--except, of course, worry about the poor man, as I've taken to doing with pretty much all of the shelter's guests. (Guess that's why they like me so much.)

One thing's for damned sure: it's hard enough to be homeless when you're young and in good shape. Anthony is about 60 years old, and his health (to put it mildly) has seen better days.

And so, another man who spent decades working his ass off is now condemned to living in the streets--and in poor health to boot. Let's hear it for capitalism!