Spinsterella

Monday, April 09, 2007

Melancholy (Pseudo) Sunday Night Post

If I get ill (as opposed to just dropping dead one day), who the fuck is going to look after me?

12 Comments:

  • Spinny,
    Rel raises hand.
    He's a nurse, don't ya know.
    Promise now though, to show the proper decorum.:)

    By Blogger Remiman, at 10:45 PM  

  • Same problem here - if I get ill the person I'm married to will immediately get all the same symptoms as me, but worse.

    By Blogger Betty, at 10:22 AM  

  • I worry about what will happen if I die. Who'll know? or indeed care?

    No Alsatians round here mind you but I can hear the cats at night discussing who gets to eat which bit first.

    By Blogger GreatSheElephant, at 11:05 AM  

  • Well Spin, unless you're lucky enough to have coronary or progressive heart disease that will lead to your heart suddenly ceasing to beat one day (a fate to which you'll be mercifully oblivious), chances are it'll happen in a grotty hospital ward staffed by underpaid Easter-European crack addicts, or (slightly better) at home (if you still have one by then after having been forced to seel or remortgage it to pay for the now-privatised care) with an Eastern European MacMillan nurse popping in for five minutes every four hours, or - if you're *really* lucky, in a chartiable hospice where you'll be starved of water until you die unattended in the middle of the night of dehydration brought on by the massive doses of morphine, then have your money and valuables stolen by the Eastern European staff there. The incumbent Chancellor (who will probably be Eastern European too, by then) will presumambly pocket most of the rest - unless you've been savvy and left it to Comic Relief or something.

    They don't teach you any of that at school, do they?

    (Or Oxbridge, for that matter.)

    Still, always look on the bright side. Good away point for the Gunners up at Newcastle yesterday after three straight defeats...

    L.U.V. on ya,

    Bob

    By Blogger Robert Swipe, at 11:50 AM  

  • The same people who'd look after you if you'd had lots of kids … Nobody.
    Sorry … Somebody used that excuse with me the other day:
    Me: "Why on earth did you have kids?"
    They: "I wan't somebody to look after me when I'm old or ill."
    Yeah, right!
    Dream on, suckers.
    Booze will look after you, Spinny; same as it does me …

    By Blogger dive, at 12:48 PM  

  • Some sort of trained helper-monkey perhaps?

    By Blogger LC, at 4:28 PM  

  • The NHS. Scary thought, isn't it?

    By Blogger violetforthemoment, at 5:58 PM  

  • Been there done it. When I got ill I had to nurse myself and still crawl down to the kitchen to feed the cats.

    By Blogger llewtrah, at 6:30 PM  

  • Jesus. I really hope I just drop down dead.

    (I don't mean now. I mean in about 60 years time - still hale and hearty at the top of a mountain or something.)

    By Blogger Spinsterella, at 7:14 PM  

  • i'm with dive - booze is your friend.

    *hiccups*.

    that aside - LC isn't far off the mark - did you see those helper-dogs on the bbc site today? they can steal your pension from the cashpoint and eat your face after you're dead. result!

    By Blogger surly girl, at 7:34 PM  

  • Robots.

    Well, it might happen.

    By Blogger frangelita, at 11:46 PM  

  • If you're going to die in hospital, do it in France. Spotlessly clean wards, only one or two patients to a room, really friendly nurses, outstanding medical care, proper decent food.

    My mum's last days were like a party; her friends all came and sat round the bed and told her stories, and the nurses kept bringing us coffee and juice and biscuits at all times of the day and night. It was lovely. Well, you know, as lovely as these things can be.

    By Blogger patroclus, at 7:06 PM  

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