I made salad and cooked fish. I served dinner. I offered companionship, as we ate watching evening television that we like. Soon as he eats last bite on plate, he likes dirty dish removed. I take away the dishes to kitchen. I start to scrape dishes and clean kitchen. He lets out a loud moan. I respond. He wants TV shut off and his bed prepared and various lights put out.

I'm hurt. Before I can even clean up after supper, he is ready to be attended to so he can get settled for the night. I tell him, "I'm not a servant to be dismissed after the meal . . . then summoned for your next need."

People eat together. Then they spend part of the evening together. One is allowed some time to clean up. Then one is encouraged to relax, before going on to the next caregiving task. I'm not someone he hired. He forgets who I am.

This is why I'm falling apart. It is not the work. It is being regarded as though I were a household appliance.

It feels awful.