Well, the cats would be fed and their litter trays cleaned.
Not convinced he would be - at best, he'd have minor scurvy due to a diet of mostly Haribo and Pringles, with the occasional full wheat pizza.
The milk would have gone off in the fridge. The frozen food on order would be defrosting in the fridge and the fridge stuff sitting on the counter with potatoes going a delicate shade of green. You don't want to think about the state of the hob and sink. and wouldn't be able to see the countertops for things left out and would have to wear a crash helmet to risk going near the inevitably open cupboard doors and precariously stacked crockery. And the state of the dishwasher stacking would make you twitch.
Any Amazon deliveries would only be in if he happened to be walking in the door at the time or the neighbour took them and banged on the door when he got home. Most, however, would still be sitting at the pickup location unless I could send him the 'ready for collection' emails.
There might be a few odd socks left clean, a mountain of other washing done (but no sign of any fresh nightwear), I'd be brought office wear to sit in a hospital bed whilst legging and t-shirts would be at the bottom of the linen bin and the plants would probably be a combination of overwatered and dry as a bone (the leafy ones dry, the succulents and cacti swimming in puddles). But there would be a stack of toilet rolls on the bathroom floor, the cardboard inners might have made it into the recycling and there would be contact lens packets piling up in the bathroom sink.
Everything else is largely automated, right up to and including the lights and heating.
But the animals would be fine. And he'd be guaranteed to sit at my side for however long I wanted, holding my hand or performing any sort of personal care I needed. Which is what counts, really.