I'm an unsympathetic bastard.

I'm an unsympathetic bastard. I cannot tolerate people who try to make a tolerable situation intolerable. Yet, we have 'em. Right and left. All over the place. People that don't know when they are well off. In a reasonably good situation. But that doesn't stop them from toying with the idea to change things. For the worse. Out of a sense of moral obligation. For instance, I know care-givers whose loved one has gone into a nursing home. Because the care-giving got to be too much to handle. And it's working. Really. Because now the care-giving has become a team effort. Involving the professional staff. Now the primary care-giver has become the supplemental care-giver. Still on the scene daily. But able to get daily respite, too. No longer does the grind have to be 24-7. Oh, what a relief. Good for the patient. Good for the care-giver. But still, I hear that care-giver lament. Out of guilt. Actually, consider bringing the patient home again. And returning to round-the-clock individual care. Without help. Yes, becoming a martyr for the sake of becoming a martyr. Maybe in an effort to attain sainthood. But forgive me if I don't annoint 'em a saint. Instead, I annoint 'em an idiot. For being downright stupid. Maybe even insane. Crazy. I'd even accuse such a being of cruelty. Negligence. Incompetence. They ain't gonne see me feting them at a pity party. Because I'm an unsympathetic bastard. --Jim Broede