
STRANGE FACTS YOU MAY NOT WANT TO KNOW,
Things that happened as I began to grow,
Dad decided that to the park we would go…
To watch the cricket, I thought, oh, no,
I get more fun looking at a Picasso,
Can I go on the swings, Dad?
This seemed to make him mad,
He said, keep quiet and be a good lad!
I sneaked off for a walk about a tad,
Carrying football boots, I saw a lad,
I went to watch their game, naughty dingwad.
Trying to open the gate, I was tugging…
Hearing Dad’s voice, I hid absquatulating,
He didn’t see me; I found that amusing…
But not the following crushing…
It was my thumb, and it was bleeding,
Dad came over, saying… What a state!
“Thee thumb ends chopped off, me mate”,
The lad who’d run his car into the gate,
I recall his language was articulate…
Apologising, so there is no need to altercate,
The ambulate arrived, its bell ringing,
They took me to the children’s hospital A&E,
A nurse checked the thumb & bandaged me…
Said that she’ll be back shortly,
I waited and felt a little sleepy,
Took me to the treatment room swiftly,
Said, “We’ll have to sew it back on” curtly,
Which they did, and very neatly,
Back out into the hallway…
You’ll stay here as a cautionery,
“You have been fearless, not cowardly!”
So, I had coped with the calamity,
I turned to look for a lavatory…
And had another Whoosiedangloppery,
I fell off of the trolley,
It doesn’t feel like it, but apparently…
But that was back in August 1950,
When they got me up, I’d broken my knee!
The start of my run of being unlucky,
What have I done successfully?
I’ve about run out of currency,
Born with the world’s tinniest ever Willie,
Cancer, shot, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Glaucoma, Cataract, at 23 I became a baldie,
Being nearly drowned later made me a deafie,
Got made redundant when I was 63,
Then, they fitted a mechanical aorta in me,
Cartilages giving way, then Reflux Roger,
Then the devil infected me with Anne Gyna,
Haemorrhoids, colour-blind, then another catastrophe,
Ingrowing toenails, having to pay for chiropody,
Hearing aids, spectacles, & lost my mobility,
Taxed on my pension… Oh, did I mention…?
Starmer stole my winter fuel allowance from me!
I cannot claim to have been over-lucky,
I may need help psychosomatically,
Psychologically, I live abnormally,
I’m getting help, the falls team agreeably…
Will visit to aid my recovery,
They will help me significantly,
The Carers do, definitely…
But it’s all too costly!
I am a proper moaner,
Most of my ire is self-anger,
Leaving hot taps to run colder,
Doors open, fridge flowing over,
I’ve turned into a grammaticaster,
Many traits & skills that I cannot master!
No point in becoming a reprehender,
Starmer’s done well, and he’s a cheat & liar!
His father was a toolmaker,
That’s true; he made a useless one named Keir!
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Less time left than ever before after making this Ode!
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sorted out. I was feeling, well, not perkier, but better than I have done for a few mornings.
I checked the computer email in case any of the medics had sent me an update.
I realised the snaps below, taken last night by Carer Ejaz, are rare. ‘Rain’ was missed in yesterday’s blog. I plead Guilty!
At teatime, I showed Carer Joe. There were new ones, and those in the photo had been leaking from a tiny spot on top of each one that had dried hard.
Another of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?
Mini-seizures and doing the gloriously silly Ode above ensured I spent hours and hours slogging away, constantly getting slower. Several hours were lost.
A social team member (I can’t recall the name)rang me, reminding me to call the doctors to get an appointment with her – one might as well have called Putin and asked him to kindly stop killing people; the result is the same.
Apparently, the Doctor asked Matron Jackie to tell me to make one. Then, the Doctor requested that Social remind me. I can only get there with a Carer on a Wednesday. When Carer ‘Joe’ rang for me, he was told that the Doctor does her home calls on a Wednesday. After talking with the organiser, the best he could offer was for fifteen-thirty, on the fourth of June. But this is only protem. Carer ‘Joe’ said he’ll see if he can get cover or make changes for that day. He’ll have to ring them back to make it for another day if he can’t get things arranged for that day.
The costly nail cutter from the hair salon came up to do them at ‘ten minutes’ notice. This threw out my plots for the Ode and delayed me even further. Tsk!
I’d just had a mini seizure and was not totally compos-mentis. Nice gal. Hurt a bit on the ingrowing nail toes. In fact… ARRGH! Hehe!
I’ve got a potato in the oven to try making cheesy spuds. But, on a low light. It’s the last call of the day, Ejaz, I think it will be. He’s due over the next hour; I’ll not start eating until he’s gone. Then, the feasting will start. Hahaha! I’ll turn the heat down on the oven so they don’t burn.
Back with an update in T’morning’!
Good Morning!
Carer Ejaz arrived.
I took these snaps of the sun going down with my (donated) Kodak 2a.
The ready-made meal was shepherd’s pie, a baked potato, and two cheese-topped bread rolls.
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All the best of luck!
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