
Soups made from bones, tongue & hooves, are prone…
Sugar was cheap, a few more teeth, gone,
I got beaten up, lost more than one,
Dad sent me to the gym to learn to box skillfully,
Had a bout versus a muscle man, I was scrawny,
Lost all but one, won that on a technicality,
He had a heart attack, which was a bummer!
Dad got me playing cricket, being as it was summer,
Fast bowler, ball in gob, even bloody awfuller…
I got blood all over my coiffure,
A mugger, I said sod-off, he gave me a smack…
Lost a tooth from the front, one from the back,
Wonder how he did that, suppose it’s just a knack,
Hospital, trolley fell off of it, Oy, caramba!
Became an alcoholic, just beer, no gin or lager,
Pissed, miss bus, walk home, fall, lose a tooth, regular,
depression, sadness, melancholy, have a mope,
False teeth? I don’t have any hope…
Now Starmer is the UK’s new pope!
A greedy, dishonest, lying bloke,
I can’t afford to have my teeth out,
My bank balance is close to nothing,
Keir stole my money, I’ve not got gout,
Do I get no freebies? No, I do without,
I’m getting older, more scatterbrained, dottier,
But have toothache! It’s getting rottener,
But, with far fewer teeth to come a cropper,
11 medications, including Warfarin & Beta-Blocker,
I’d like to set myself up as Starmer Knocker?
A derogator of dishonest Herr Starmer,
I should really try to keep myself calmer,
If Keir would kindly die painfully, & slower,
Now that really would be good Karma!
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That is not exactly authentic.
05:40hrs, I woke and fell asleep again, the moment I felt the pain from
Then I did the safety checks, although doing them last night when I got back from the hospital and
I glanced out of the window and thought I saw the moon still showing in the photograph that Mirza took for me. Near the centre, about a third of the way down
I then thought I’d better get the ablutions and medications done before the Carer arrives.
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and got on the computer to update the Sat/Sunday blog. Which I achieved – but with Grammarly telling me that I had errors, wait for it… 333 errors! It took me an hour just to check them out & correct.
Carer Nimra arrived, walked straight in without using the door-chime, and found me with just the underpants on. Well, it was a warm day. Haha!
She’d been told nothing about me being hospitalised. I gave her an outline of the incidents that led to the fall and the following 21 hours of waterless, foodless time in the hospital. Late on Sunday, a new team started their shift, and I mentioned to one of the incoming nurses that there was no food or water available, as I was doing my every 15-minute mini ECG checks. She came back with a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich and a coffee for me. I thanked her for her efforts. But unfortunately, there were two rare things that I cannot eat. I didn’t mention it; not after she’d made the effort to help me. Carer Nimra barrier creamed my back flaps; I couldn’t reach them earlier. Then, she put some on the left Cartilage of Chloe, who was giving me some bother. We went onto the balcony, she wanted to take a photo, I think. Graded the urine bag as a level 5. Nice gal.
I then had a bit of a nerve-wrenching bother with CorelDraw and the computer, though.
I’d put an SD card in, which I found earlier, to see if CoralDraw would let me clear it, and try it in the camera to see if it would work.
Almost instantly, semi-panic was birthed, and
I sank so low. How can I handle so many disasters in such a short space of time? I wanted to curse, spit and scream! As I tried to think of a way to close the other programs, I couldn’t. The computer or CorelDraw, or both, were not allowing me to do anything at all. As I was thinking, if I leave it for an hour, just maybe it will reactivate? Yes, that’s how stupid I am! Which brought on the pathetic self-pity as well…
The door chime rang out, and in walked the lovely retired nurse 💗 who had been tending to my Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies’ fungal lesion. She inquired why the plaster was on my head, and even the depression could not stop me from telling the tale of Saturday & Sunday. She listened too. 🌹Bless her cotton socks 🌹. She then swapped the plaster with a new one. Checked out the piles and bum; they were much easier. Off she went with my appreciation shown, and of course,
Doubting Thomas’s arrival, followed by the certainty that Calamity Jane was on the way, and back into
I believe that while talking and listening with my sweet District Nurse, 🌹 I think that I flirted with
Her arrival actually froze out Darius for a while! Nothing has ever achieved that before! Death will, but then again, you never know, Darius may follow you into Heaven or Hell? I’m writing down my thoughts again. Waffling on? Lost the plot!Tsk!
I regained a modicum of concentration and mused over what to try next with the computer problem.
The intercom chimed out. It was Carer Nimra. As she was coming up, I had a bit of a seizure, only a short one, but they usually have after-effects that are worse than after a long one. Blown if I can recall what took place. I feel things went well, though. Think we parted happily.
Now, back to the computer problem. I made sure this time, and had to disconnect from the plug, taking out the plug for a minute, then replacing it in the socket. I had little faith, but I continued. I didn’t turn on the computer, but instead, I turned it off again at the socket, and then booted the tormenting computer—with a flinch and a prayer. It went through a scary list of options to boot it up. To be honest, (Sorry to scare Herr Starmer by using that word, honest), I thought it wasn’t going to work, and I pressed the option buttons without making a note of them – What a Fool! It booted up! But I can’t remember the sequence for next time when I start it!
I got so angry with myself!
I pressed on and opened CorelDraw, Humph!
But the fear of booting up again lingered.
I got the Sat & Sun blog posted, and then I realised I hadn’t posted Fridays either. I was going to do that on Saturday, but then tumble interfered. So I checked that blog and posted it off too. I felt I was getting somewhere at last.
Carer Ejaz did the last call. No one had told him about the Hospital mayhem. He didn’t have time to listen anyway; it was a short visit, and he had another one to attend to. I’d not made a meal yet, so he left the night pouch on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, dirtier than ever catheter-tube-trapping recliner, for me to put on later after cooking. Which is okay, the new day bags are shorter and much smaller, so the risk of going giddy at bending down is minimal. The lad asked me to send the blogs to his mobile, which I did. He
Well, I’m shattered now. I’m going to save & close everything, shut down the computer, and see if I can remember the sequence to boot it up again. If not, suicide is the best option. I can’t stand losing the computer forever, with all the disasters of the past week. Here goes, fingers crossed and curses and a hex on liar, back-hander taker, two-faced, unreliable, pensioner-disabler-family robbing, more Tory than Labour inspired, ☢ Herr Starmer. ☢
I may not be back…
Of course, you won’t know if I’m dead or the computer won’t boot, will you? Because I won’t be able to post this desperate plea for help, formerly identified as a blog. Crossed fingers then.
Heheheh!
What a Relief!
Got in, but with a degree of “It’ll only happen againness” – “How the hell did I do thatness” and
sank into the most prolonged Seizure of the day. I was just coming out of it when Carer Ejaz arrived to do the last call. So, my memory is a little vague again.
Ejaz, I think, took a photo of the meal. I guess it was Ejaz, anyway? Took the diabetic socks off. Left the catheter night pouch on the recliner, so I could remember to put it on after making the meal.
Got the meal of the day prepared.
Red onions and some
superb chips!
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I should sleep tonight!
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