Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Death. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

Goodbye Mum

After a gradual decline over a couple of years, and a horrific last few months she's finally gone.
She was heavily sedated and I hope she didn't feel anything. There was nothing peaceful about this death.

I will miss you Mum. Forever in my heart.

Friday, June 25, 2010

Angel Tears - R.I.P. Diesel

Diesel had been a bit "0ff" the last couple of months, not wanting to walk, but was eating OK. Thought he had a bit of Arthritis.

He collapsed yesterday, and was taken to the vets. They put him on a drip and did blood tests. He had Kidney failure, which effected his heart. Died 11am today.

RIP Diesel, forever in my heart.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Victoria Burning - Protection for the Arsonist- No protection for the Victims


They are not releasing his name We should know. We need to ow. We want to know. PLEASE
What does 'fragile state of mind' mean? Does he have a disability, a mental illness? WHAT? Is he a husband, a father, we should know. He deserves to be lynched.

I went searching for a Fiery Angel pic, and found this. I thought Angel of Revenge, then realised it had one of the Psalms attached, Psalm 90. It's about protection. I guess that would be protection for the ARSONIST.

NO PROTECTION FOR THE VICTIMS.

Does that seem fair? Why should he deserve to be protected, any more than another criminal?

There must be someone out there that knows his name. We want to know. In fact, we demand to know. So, who is he?

Monday, February 9, 2009

Victoria Burning - Gippsland Monday, 6pm






ABC radio has announced there are 21 dead in this area, 130 all up and they expect to find more. It will take months for investigators to sift through burnt homes. We are virtually cut off from TV, with one Melbourne channel, 10. No local channels at all, so cannot envision the rest of the State.

The Churchill fire has broken containment lines, and local communities are again on high alert. They have been told it is too late to run.

I spoke with a client in Yarram today, who told me two locals had died, she provided me with their names, I cried. A little later I gathered the courage to ring one of their relatives, right name, wrong family. I still cried.

On my way to post some mail after work, a fire truck roared past me with lights flashing and siren on. Tears again. I'm feeling sick with apprehension. I couldn't imagine living in a war zone for months on end.

Tuesday, October 21, 2008

Catching the Falling Angel

Some of us fly high and some of us fall. This is a falling time.

I had never heard of Polycystic Kidney Disease or Pernicious Aneamia, until yesterday. Today I was educated. I really didn't want to know, prefer to bury my head in the sand. It's autosomal dominant.

One phone call said it all. I was shocked, didn't believe what I was hearing, this is not happening, can't be happening.

At this time, she has refused Dialysis, and she is having an allergic reaction to the B12 injections, therefore needs blood transfusions. For the rest of whatever life she has left. There is no quick fix, actually there is no fix at all.

"Hello?" Her: " I want you to do something for me" Me: "Hmmm, does it need to be done today? Oh, you better tell me what it is first." Her: "I want you to organise an Enduring Power of Attorney" Me: "A what?" Her: "An Enduring Power of Attorney" Me: "What is it, and what's it for?"

The explanation was hard, the implications worse, the prognosis shocking. What do you say after hearing that? Of course I'll do it, no problems? She's basically telling me she's dying, and needs someone to take care of all aspects of her life. She doesn't want anyone else to do it. I am really angry with her. Go and get another opinion, do something. I don't want to do this, it's not my job, give it to someone else.
Me: .....................................................................................silence. Her: "Helloooo!! Are you listening?" (Of course I'm bloody listening, I'm dying inside, I don't know what to say) Me: "Um, OK. When do you want me to do it?" Her: "As soon as possible. Don't procrastinate, just organise it". Me: "Of course I'll do it, I'll get to it sometime this week, as soon as I can organise a day off". Her: "Allright, I'll hear from you soon. Bye".
The next day: Me: "Hi Mum" Her: "Hi Angel". Me: "How are you?" Her: "I'm well, and how are you?" (What do you mean, you're well? You're not well, you just told me yesterday that you weren't) Me: "I'm good". Her: "I forgot to tell you yesterday that Dr P said I needed to let you know that the PKD is autosomal dominent, and you need to tell your Doctor as soon as possible". Me: "And that means what, exactly?" Her: "It's hereditary, there is a 50% chance you have it, your Grandmother had them and both your Aunts, as well.". Me: "When did you find out all of this?" Her: "Oh, years ago, but I didn't take much notice, I used to call them 'polkadots on my kidneys, and they have spread to my liver and pancreas as well". Me: "When did you know it was hereditary?" Her: "Yesterday, Dr. P thought I already knew because I've had it for such a long time, before he became my Doctor. Me: OK, thanks. I'll make an appointment to see Dr. C .
I'll be in touch as soon as I've sorted somethign out".

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Split Personality Angel


The good me is good, I mean really good. I work hard and don't play hard. Hell, I don't even have time to play! I am cool and calm, with not a hair out of place. I meet and greet, the epitome of graciousness. Mrs. Perfect, that's me.

The bad me only comes out now and again, and everyone knows about it. They all breathe a sigh of relief when she has gone.

Remember, I am female. I hord all the little slights, the odd comment here and there, you know the ones. They cut you to pieces on the inside, but you don't let them see it on the outside.Those little twists and turns of life that I sort of stockpile ,saving them until one special day comes along, that forces me to morph.

Into the second me, maybe I should say, the secret me. It was one of those days yesterday.

The funeral, flights out, kids out of their own environment and routine, a house full of people you are related to, but really hardly know, new job,............all that sort of stuff, caused me to morph.

Why is it that after a death, the closest to the deceased need to fight? Why argue over the smallest things? He had told them exactly who was to get what, and they still fight tooth and nail over it. She did this, he said that.
Well, they don't love me any more. I told them exactly what I thought of them, their bad behaviour, and disrespect, especially toward the deceased's Mum, whom they pretty much ignored.
I doubt they will be returning any time soon. Thank Goddess for that. I don't even like them.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Bad in the Cupboard. Part 1 of Three.

Five children, aged between 7 and 10, playing, laughing, enjoying a day full of sunshine. Two live there, three are visitors.

One of the three comes accross a well, this is a cause of great excitement. He has never seen one before, and calls the others over. Between them they manage to lift the lid, and peer down into the gloom, unable to see the bottom. It is 120 feet deep.

One older boy gives one small girl a shove, she looses her balance and starts to fall. The girls sister, 2 years older, grabs frantically at her clothes, unable to gain purchase. Finally, she manages to hold on to a foot encased in a sneaker, her little sister dangling precariously over the edge. Both girls are screaming for help. The other children do not come to help, they stand mesmerised, staring. As if in slow motion, the shoe and the foot part company.

There is no initial splash, just a dull series of empty sounding thumps echoing, as the small girls body bounces from one side of the shaft to the other. Eventually, after what seems like many minutes, there is a loud thump, and a small splash. She has reached the bottom of the well, and the end of her young life.

A little after 2 hours, her body was recovered and bought to the surface, smashed to pieces like a broken porcelain doll. The skull in 3 pieces, with one beautiful eye completely missing.

The parents identify the body. It is an horrific sight. The father suffers complete nervous collapse, and has never spoken of the event since. The grandmother blames herself, as she was minding the two girls. She still cries every night. The sister's life is never the same again, she blames herself because she let her sister fall. The event will haunt her to the end of her days. The family are never able to live in the house again. The well was their water supply. The eye is still down there. The marriage dissolved under pressure.

Finally, we get to the mother. She was working that particular day, satisfying the craving for money, to support her Western lifestyle. She also blames herself, of course.


This event was I hope, done in the innocence that comes with childhood, in a land where there is no war.

It is bad enough a child dies, let alone being killed in war.


To be continued.

Saturday, September 8, 2007

Angel's, Iraq, Nukes and Flying Bush's.

If trees could fly?

There is an interesting article at ICH, today. As there is most days. But, this one is a little different, and so are the comments. Have a sticky beak at the article here:
http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article18325.htm

Apparently there are some funny going's on at Barksdale Air Force Base. Tut, tut, does this mean the US is up to no good? Again?

According to one of the comments on this article, it is an extremely sophisticated process to arm a nuclear bomb. You don't just load the nukes, and then drop them. It doesn't happen this way.

If sophistication is the key, why was it so easy for the US to 'nuke' Japan, during WW11? It must have been more sophisticated then, seeing it was so simple? Right.

Really though, this is not what I wanted to write about. It is one of the comments, that has me thinking.

"The worst part about all this is that no one else in the world even cares what happens to the American people and who will come to our rescue? NO ONE"

Well, which of you cared for the lives of innocents when Iraq was bombed? You did? LIAR. Did you all stand, mouths open, when you watched Operation OIL's first hours? Were you crying at the time? You were? LIAR. You were cheering your soldiers on, while our people were being mutilated, and blown to pieces. You weren't? LIAR. You were yelling in triumph, US military kicking butt in Iraq, while our kids were dying in our arms and you didn't care! You did? LIAR.


And you continued to show your arrogance, by video taping all your disgusting carnage. You posted them on you tube, in the hundreds, you were so proud. You didn't? LIAR .You didn't vote for your President? LIAR. He did not get into office using thin air.

I don't care for your administration, your President with a capitol P, nor his 700 odd contingent that arrived in Australia with yet another "shock and awe" campaign. We were, by the way, truly grateful the '"shock and awe" was the exact opposite of Iraq's version. As it turned out, it was Australian comedians that shocked, making headlines, and also Bush's inability to remember where he was, and what he was here for . Austria and OPEC?

It's about time you got off your backsides, and did something about your embarrassing problem. Bush is your liability, your shackles and the noose around your neck. The reputation of America and her people are at an all time low.

DITCH YOUR PRESIDENT AND THE CURRENT ADMINISTRATION.

And for heavens sake, make your vote count, regain your reputation, if indeed it is possible..

Being touched by an Angel is not always a good thing

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