We must get there between eleven and half eleven if we want to see him. He has no doorbell and he’ll only let us in then. We rush. We park. The door’s ajar. Is he there? He’s waiting. There. Behind the door. He lets us in. Inside it’s dark. The post covers the floor. He has no need for such communications. He’s not interested. He chooses to opt out. We climb the stairs, following behind his lead. It smells. As we get closer to his flat the smell of rubbish, damp and human bodily odours increase. He invites us into his flat. We are privileged. We are strangers to him and yet he is accepting us into his house. The corridor is narrow. We step carefully over items on the floor; tin cans, bottles, papers, bags of possessions. The bathroom is to our left. It is filled entirely with empty plastic milk bottles. The kitchen is next along. It is filled with empty tin cans; the remnants of his past meals. There is some logic to this. The rubbish has been collected and sorted into different spaces. We enter his living room, the only room physically accessible. He invites us to sit on the only two chairs he owns, and he sits on a bare stained mattress on the floor. It is dark; he has not paid the electricity bills for months, A few flies navigate around the room.

The middle-aged man is wrapped up in clothing from head to foot, excessive for a June day. He looks lean and flexible. He has not become chair shaped, like most other people of his age in western society. As the G.P. gently enquires into his well-being, it becomes apparent that this man is unable or unwilling to follow the same train of thought. The man seems to avoid answering the questions and skips erratically to different subjects. Humanely, the G.P. follows his lead. Attempting to understand and find some common ground. It seems that this man has withdrawn himself from the social norms. He does not believe in filling in forms to get benefits, and insists he has no need for electricity or water in his house. He has run out of money but can get a meal from the local soup kitchen. The conversation builds up momentum and the man begins to take control of its movement. Unprovoked, he pulls a photo out of a bag. It is of an Indian man in a bright orange robe. With a little encouragement, he shows us a book written by this man. It appears he is a religious leader of sorts and the book is a philosophical one. This unexpected sharing of these possessions was a crucial step in the consultation. The man had in doing so demonstrated a level of trust, invited us to know more about him, and showed us that he was looking for answers or guidance in life, From here, the G.P was able to suggest some ways to help, and the suggestions were hesitantly accepted.

I left the flat with numerous thoughts running through my mind. My senses had been on overload and the chaos was rearranging itself. How did this man end up living in such a state; what happened to him in his past; what can be done to help him; what’s the best way of helping him? His existence had reached crisis-point and he was asking for help. He was unable to cope. The G.P may be the only person able to initiate change in this situation and as a result of this, has a crucial role to play.