Maskenbeatmung

Too much for me today. I dim the light, close my eyes and try to at least get a grip on my breathing, despite the sacrilegious pain.

No time has always been an excuse for no desire. Yes. No desire. No desire to get upset. There are more important things to do.

When you have an oxygen saturation of 78, explain to your nurse that you have an oxygen concentrator...

My first post at two to, not two past twelve. I went among the poets. My carers have found my blog.

Aren't I nice? I don't want an upgrade. I don't want more money. I just want the lies to disappear from the report. The MDK came up with all the rest themselves.

I have no idea how this works exactly. I don't need to. You don't need to know everything. You just have to know who to ask.

We are still talking about my eyes, nose and teeth. Not to mention my decubitus behind my ear, which of course has not improved one bit.

My ears are almost deaf. At least now I don't have to put up with my carers constantly phoning Mummy.

Did someone claim that everything is optional equipment at Audi? At least all five of mine had a seat. Unlike my Rollis...

The nurse who, despite photographs of evidence, cannot be convinced that tightly stretched ligaments cause pain.