The agent of our own life up to a point

Once we become ill or have an accident we are in danger of no longer being the agent in our own life.

People assume that it we are over 70 that we’ve got dementia unless we can prove otherwise. My husband was badly injured in an accident which nearly knocked his eye out broke his nose and his cheekbones and caused his brain to bleed. Before going to the hospital the ambulance brought him to the house so that I could go with him. They were sorry that he got dementia but he had not got dementia

In the ambulance he was sitting looking in afraid and in pain and very puzzled while a young woman paramedic was screaming at the top of her voice.. Who is the prime minister?

I told this young woman to be quiet. I then explained to him that he had passed out and his head on the war memorial by the foot path he was covered in blood and they handing me later a plastic bag with his glasses in them and also a copious amount of blood
He was in a ward for a few days. On his first evening there he rang me up at 9 p.m. and asked me to take him some painkillers.
I rang the hospital manager and told him the situation and he went to the ward and spoke to the staff and they said well on the end of his bed there is a sheet of information and it says painkillers on demand.
Since he was in the bed without his glasses to see with and still covered in blood becaus he wouldn’t get undressed it seems very unlikely that he would walk to the end of the bed and read this notice.
And when a nurse came then said to him how are you? He did not realise that was her asking him if he wanted any painkillers so he responded if he did in real Life by saying he was fine thank you
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How you could be fine when your eye had been at risk of coming out, your nose is broken and the cheekbone and another bone underneath your eye was broken I cannot imagine.
The final thing was the doctor saying to him
Do not blow your nose because your eye will come out.
Have you ever seen somebody with a broken nose blowing it because I haven’t and I don’t if I ever will but should I do so I will tell him do not blow your nose your eye mighr come out
How far does it come out? Is it completely loose like a marble that might come out and then roll away or is it attached in some way to the eye socket. Please don’t tell me I don’t want to know.
Anyway he died

Washing Day in Knittingham

blue body of water with orange thunder — *Photo by Johannes Plenio on Pexels.com*

After the unusual November sunshine, Mary was happy to discover her underwear was dry. She took it into the sitting room to fold up, ready to go into the drawer.
Although, by nature, she was very untidy, she did try to keep a bit of order in her drawers.
As she sat musing, with the pile of knickers and bras nearby, the door bell rang
.Quickly she pushed the heap of lingerie under a large cushion and opened the door optimistically with a brave laugh and a rude cough
There stood the Vicar with a beaming yet sultry smile, like a sun ray on Helvellyn in midwinter
Do come in. I’ll make some fresh Ceylon tea, she murmured politely
She carried in a tray of tea and cake and sat on the sofa, after placing the tray on a small table nearby.
Why are you here, Father? she said anxiously as she sucked her thumb and bit her nails
That was what God said to Elijah on the mountain, he anwered shyly.Or mayhe it was Jeremiah
Well,I am not God but we all wonder now and then why we are here and think we should be somewhere else , like in bed with Leonard Cohen.
That never worries me, said the Vicar.I can’t marry a Jew, Leonard Cohen or whoever.
So if Jesus was here you would not let him marry your daughter? Even though he was the Son of the Most High?
Definitely not.He wasn’t a Christian.
And imagine what it would be like when he was never at home helping with the chores, but was fishing in the Sea of Galilee all day.And feeding hungry people.Not to mention getting killed…..
But he must have been very loving, Mary muttered nervously
God loves those who love themselves, cried the Vicar evangelically.
Er, that’s a bit narcissistic,Mary told him .I’ve never heard anyone say it before.
Well we ought to love ourselves or why should anyone else love us?
For our love of them, our beauty, our minds, our kindness, our humour, our cooking or our money.
Yet some a people are sadists and some are masochists.
Well, that is unfortunate but, if they are willing, it seems acceptable to me.I won’t criticise them if they enjoy it
Suddenly Annie, Mary’s neighbour,ran into the room in her dark purple velvet trenchcoat and shiny green vinyl boots;they matched her eye shadow and contrasted well with her terracotta lipstick and matching earrings, like small saucers from which Emile might drink milk
Hi, she shouted.I’m here.
Where is that lipstick from, Mary quizzed her pensively
It’s by Lambscombe of Wigan and Ilkley. Annie revealed furtively
I didn’t know they made lipstick,Mary answered.It’s an unusual colour Is it made from old bricks?
I don’t know, Annie cried petulantly.She started to snivel and felt under the cushion in case Mary had left a hanky or tissue there.
Her hand reappeared clutching a pair of bright blue lace knickers
It was hard to decide who looked more embarrassed ,Mary or the Vicar
What’s going on in here, Annie demanded though why should she have the right to know?
I’ve never seen them before, the Vicar told her manfully
Surely your wife must wear them, Annie said knowingly
My wife wears underpants.
Well, it takes all sorts,Mary mused.Is your wife a man ?
I don’t know.We live a life of utter chastity.We have therefore had no children.We could have adopted I guess.
What a waste, Annie whispered.
You are a very charming and delightful person.~
I can’t believe you are innocent.You persuaded Mary to take off her knickers so you could play Mummies and Daddies but I came in at the wrong moment.
Mary fainted silently onto the rug
Emile mewed loudly and rang 999 on his Nokia1
In ran Dave, the fluid gendered, transsexual and well dressed paramedic.
What’s wrong ?
Why has Mary fainted and why are there knickers on the floor? Is this an orgy? Why have you called me?
The Vicar went bright red with embarrassment and shock.
No, it seems Mary keeps a pair of knickers near her in case she runs out of tissuesDave made some Ceylon tea in the bijou violet and emerald green kitchen .He used Mary’s art deco mugs to serve it along with some chocolate biscuits he found under the sink.
Mary rose up from the carpet and asked where she was.
Still here,in the EU….until Scotland goes independent and Ireland gets more Troubles and how about Wales getting big idea?
Oh, for goodness sake, shut up.I am sick of Brexit cried Emile.
Where is my tea? Where are my sardines in olive oil?Where is my pudding?