...I have a 91 year old, WW2 veteran uncle with hording disease like this. If you think the woman's house is bad, you should see my uncle's....it's piled right to the ceiling. Honestly! And it's not organized - just piled high everywehre, every room. And so are his shedS, and his barnS, and his garage, and his yard is a strewn mess of cars and wagons and farm implements and fridges and stoves and whatever. I am his caregiver for now. He refuses to write a will other than to call me like he did a month or two ago when he felt that he was dying to tell me that Fran can have the cups in the cupboard and that my brother can sell the farm. He blows his nose on the floor and there's fruit flies in the ass wipe tissue paper that he just thows onto the top of the dresser next to the potty. He hasn't had a bath or a shower in years - years. Fran and I had a HUGE fight one day because I took him into town to pay his taxes. The car wreeked for two days afterward. She insisted that I not use the car anymore to transport him around. Unfortuantely, until such time as I had an alternate solution I had to use the car. So on my way out to do something for him right after the fight, I was thinking about the fight and was SO MAD that when I took my last swig of coffee that I had in the car I threw the empty cup to the floor only to have it hit the dash on the way down and bounce up into the window shattering it. Ha ha! Silly me! I'll end up finding him dead amongst the junk someday. He refuses to go to an old folks home. I don't blame him for that. I've thought it'd be nice if I could go clean out the house and just live with him till he dies. That would work if I wasn't married.