Whine and Moan


Last night I thought I was dying. I must have caught some strange gastrointestinal bug from somewhere inside the nursing home or else I ate something that was way passed its sell-by.

I weep for myself when I am ill. There is no one to wipe my brow, tell me I’ll be okay or tuck me into bed with a hot water bottle. If anything needs cleaning up, I’m the cleaner – ain’t nobody else going to do nothing. Always been that way and it makes me feel even sorrier for myself.

Years ago I said I needed a wife, so I could go off to work and ignore the family and be a major success in my field, if I could ever decide what field that is. Anyway, I would need some support, someone else doing stuff, not just me.

Well last night I wanted my mother – and you all know how bad I must have felt for that to happen. I needed my temperature taken, my head held and just a teensy pat on the back to encourage me to keep going. What I got was a cat who wondered if I’d taken complete barmy and gone off the deep end.

Whatever that was I hope it’s gone. Jesus. It’s bad when you have to Google symptoms to see if you’re dying ………


2 Comments Add yours

  1. Jennifer says:

    I would think that’s pretty much the way it is!


  2. Denise says:

    Ow ow ow 😦

    I need a wife. Although the last one I had was not exactly a leader in the caring stakes. Next time I think it is safer for me to assume that I will be the one looking after me.


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