"I had to barricade him in once," Francis sighed. "His joints were swollen from being kept in the same position so at first he couldn't walk. Couldn't use his arms. I helped him move them so he could regain use of them and that caused a lot of swearing too, because it was painful. Of course that meant he could get up, albeit he wasn't strong enough to break through anything. So I had to barricade him in his room to keep him from killing himself with food. It was-" Francis didn't think there was a word worth enough for how awful it had been, but he tried, "soul-destroying."