Dear diary,

I’ve finished unloading lots of crap which would NOT flow easily outta my orifice below. I was posting a blog during the exertion and I am now in the waiting room with Dad.

My incoming thought is regarding health care. Once again, there is the refusal for cures and curing. Secondly, there aren’t enough nurses to care for the patients.

If I wasn’t on hand during Mom’s stay at the hospital multiple time this year, and whenever she pressed the call button for help, no one would arrive, fast enough.

When Mom had the strength and when number one and/or number two needs to be done in a hurry, I’m present to walk her to the toilet.

But when she was too weak, she used the bedside commode and/or bed pan. I’m there to assist the CNA. Can y’all believe that? Yup.

So while Dad sits and waits and gets bored, and with Mom’s usual stern instructions, she guides me to: pull down her hospital gown and adjust her blankets because she’s always cold, elevate her head for eating and drinking, lower her head for scooting up higher on the hospital bed, and to wipe her clean.

Yeah, so I get to do the dirty work. And that’s my current assignment. A few days ago while tucking her into bed, she told me that when she dies, I’m free. Wow. Okay. Fine. So be it. She still rebukes me for answering her and others incorrectly.

So my hands-on training for the care and maintenance of humanz continue. My other wards are the parakeets p, especially Mister Mel who suffered leg injuries due to rickets, lateral fractures and dislocation and inbreeding problems with sister number one and brother number three,

And this is because most pet birds lack sufficient calcium (not carbonate as found in the colored calcium blocks from pets stores) and Vitamin D3, both of which the veterinarian injected into his belly.

So I have to expose the birds directly under the sun for at least fifteen minutes per day to help their bones, while watching for any signs of heat strokes, especially for Mister Mel inside the plastic aquarium.

Mister Mel gets his ibuprofen twice daily via oral syringe. Unfortunately, I have to grab him as he screeches in fear. Idiots. This is for 3 – 5 days and as needed for pain and inflammation.

He looks and feels better symbolically as – whenever Mom gets sick a parakeet would suffer the fate of injury or death. I think these reptilianz are full of crap and I’m NOT having another entity fall prey to their interconnected pains and death throes.

His injured left foot is closed like a club as a crutch. He is inside an aquarium with a plastic screen for air. I have two ‘hospital cages’ one small and one large. I paid deposits for these two aquariums, each with its: baby blanket and circular feeding dish.

And I have my elderly father to whom I help. ‘As my [parents] are getting older, the good Flynn provides assistance in managing [their] finances, medical needs and upkeep of [their] home.’

Yeah, so that above sentence is from my Dad’s EARO against Respondent living directly adjacent to us, of which Das Squirrel and his liberal progressives and pals believe she has the right to be evil.

So I want her and her kinds restrained and sent into Sheol for judgement. The Americanized laws go against the normals, and this must be corrected immediately.

Okay, it’s time to watch whatever is going on with the dangerous whitish humanz in Britain today.


Evil Kitty

Categories: flynnspaws

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