Did You Miss Me?

I apologise for my absence from here but I had no control over it. On the 2nd of January I had an operation on my kidney and then caught a severe blood infection–Sepsis I returned from the hospital yesterday knowing how close to death I came.

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#Booktour: Through the Nethergate – The Main Ghostly Characters + Giveaway

If your thing is ghosts then here’s plenty.

Roberta Writes

Thank you to Brooke Blogs for hosting me today for Day 1 of my Through the Nethergate book tour. This post is about the main ghostly characters in the book. There is also a Giveaway you can enter from Brooke Blogs. Thank you to Great Escapes Book Tours for organising this tour.

Through the Nethergate by Roberta Eaton Cheadle – The Main Ghostly Characters + Giveaway

This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using that link, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Brooke Blogs!

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Through the Nethergate by Roberta Eaton Cheadle

Margaret, a girl born with second sight, has the unique ability to bring ghosts trapped between Heaven and Hell back to life. When her parents die suddenly, she goes to live with her beloved grandfather, but the cellar of her grandfather’s ancient inn…

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The Kiss

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Lilac walls and pink settees
Hexagon tables with cups of tea
Ritzy people righting the wrong
A pianist playing whilst singing a song

Glasses clicking under corks that pop
Laughter and kisses painting the backdrop
A woman in love, it’s in her eyes
As a married man is telling her lies.

A band strikes up, a guitar plucks away
The restaurant is filling this middle of the day
It’s the place to cavort, it’s the place to be seen
It’s the place where anyone who’s anyone has certainly been.

The married man is checking his phone
By the look on his face, it’s a call from home.
He makes his excuses, she’s lost, no words to say.
He pays the bill then rushes away.

She’s awkwardly enmeshed in the gathering stares
Onlookers looking for signs of despairs.
She takes her bag and coat too fast
A glass falls from a table as she brushes past

She reaches the street, calm to a degree.
The anger hits hard—‘How dare he leave me!
That was his wife on the phone and he chose to go
I’ll not wait for him. It will be me who delivers the final blow.

I did not see how this affair came to end
But I heard a rumour that night from a friend
She said she knew a woman who’d been slighted that day
In a restaurant, I used as a hideaway.

The woman had murdered the man then killed his wife
She was charged with murder and looking at life
Then she’d hanged herself in disgrace
The newspapers reported the affair was commonplace.

I put a different take on this scene
To me, life is nothing but obscene
But if falling in love is what you wish
You can’t hide the reality behind a kiss.

© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved

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An Australian comedian has raised more than $26 million to fight deadly bushfires — WGNO

A great example.

I didn't have my glasses on....

Australian comedian Celeste Barber has raised more than $26 million in under a week to help fight the deadly bushfires that have killed more than 20 people and scorched millions of acres. Over 946,000 people have donated to her Facebook fundraiser for the New South Wales Rural Fire Service & Brigades, which started just four days ago. “Please help anyway (sic) you can,” her appeal reads. “This is terrifying.” New South Wales has been hit hardest by the devastating blazes. […]

via An Australian comedian has raised more than $26 million to fight deadly bushfires — WGNO

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Book Review: Sir Chocolate and the sugar dough bees story and cookbook by Robbie & Michael Cheadle

Can you resist Sir Chocolate and the fairies, let alone the recipes you’ll find?

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Chance

 

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Chance

Call life by its proper name
Call it what it be.
Don’t hide behind the niceties
Of respectability.

Sound out the truth,
Tell me what you see.
Are you engulfed in yourself
Wallowing in misery?

Is your life a trial
Where the scales are unjust?
In one sits the unreachable,
And in the other your product of dust?

Is your body nothing,
Did it die first?
Leaving your soul
With an unquenchable thirst?

When you take your last breath
How will you be remembered?
Will it be for the life you lived,
Or for the chance, you surrendered?

 

© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved

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A Fool

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A Fool.

A fool is the one who can’t comprehend,
That to make a beginning one must have no fear of an end.
The end comes to us all, but how does it take place?
A fool never starts, in the hope of saving face.

To try is so worthy; to say no is a worthless choice,
What a fool pronounces loudest in the highest of voice.
Knocks come aplenty in a life that’s been led to the full.
But there’s no wisdom one can impart to a fool.

© 2019, Daniel Kemp All rights reserved

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Kidney Stones

On Thursday the 2nd of January, I was scheduled to have my kidney operated on to remove two stones that had become too big to pass naturally. I had met the surgeon on three occasions, twice for him to apologise to me. You see, this whole experience of mine is just one big—cock-up and possibly my fault

The first time we met was when he said that owing to my list of medical issues he considered an operation too much of a risk under general anaesthetic and would prefer using electro-magnetic laser beams to break the stones into smaller pieces which would be easier to pass. There was a period in my life when renal colic and I were on friendly terms and this form of treatment was one I’d had many times and although considerably modernised, it held no mystic for me.

I attended the appointment to be blasted only to be surprised by the radiologist’s discovery of me having a pacemaker recorded on my medical records as being in-situ. ‘Oh no,’ he said. ‘We can’t proceed with this treatment until I know all the ramifications involved.’ Off the table went I, dressed and away home wondering what next. Next came the first apology from the surgeon which left me believing that the electro-magnetic waves might affect the pacemaker but as soon as they stopped the pacemaker would recover. No mention was made of a full operation.

Then came the letter. ‘An appointment has been made for you to attend surgical admissions at 7am on the 2nd of January. I thought the change of mind must have resulted after a reexamination of the scans.

I arrived on time, went through the scrambled pre-med assessments and pep talk signing on the dotted line for what I stupidly imagined to be the macho-thing of putting a weak heart and emphysema through a procedure that a bull-like me would laugh at. I gave no thought to the possibility of the bull becoming an ox, nor did I worry when hearing the second apology from my soon to be torturer—‘Sorry to have mucked you about, Mr. Kemp, but in half an hour’s time you will be stone free.’

Two hours thirty minutes later I was told the operation had been far more complicated than he’d thought. Apparently, my prostate gland was enlarged forcing him into strange manoeuvres to get passed it with his instruments of torture. My prostate gland is mentioned on my medical records as being permanently enlarged with part of it containing cancerous cells. Perhaps he had missed that entry when reading about my medical issues. Common sense would advise leaving well alone and not aggravating the gland.

That didn’t worry me then. All I was concerned with was the bag I was connected to that captured the blood infected urine I was passing via a catheter tube. I was repeatedly told all would be well even though I was not to be allowed home that day. By Friday, I was told, I’d be in my own flat.

Around 6am Friday morning the catheter tube was removed by one of the two-night nurses. Half an hour or so later I went for a shower. Whilst there I attempted to use the toilet to urinate. The pain was terrible and on the beloved scale of 1-10, a good 8+. I managed only to pass a small amount of blood. With the aid of my stick I got back to my bed and sat in the chair beside it. I think no-one else was awake then; that wasn’t to last long. Soon I had an urgent need to use the bedpan. This time the agony was off the scale and nothing like any renal colic pain I’d experienced before. I screamed uncontrollably as the pain hit my kidney and then travelled into my bladder. Morphine was offered and I took it. An hour later I thought I was about to die.

I had gone to use a bedpan in a toilet that I hadn’t yet used. Luckily the toilet was tiny and as the pain hit me I fell against the door but I grasped at something that held me upright. A nurse was the other side of the door calling out if I was okay. Somehow or other I managed to unlock the door and get into the wheelchair that appeared from nowhere. This time the pain did not go. I never saw my reflection, but I felt clammy and by the attention I was getting from the assembly of nurses who’d gathered around, I must have given the impression of death in a wheelchair!

More morphine, then a doctor’s instructions to insert another catheter which resulted in the loss of the pain. Two devotees of the surgeon were at the end of the bed after he left asking if I could manage at home. By choice, I live alone. My ex-wife and I get on well when not living in each other’s pockets. She had stayed in my flat since Wednesday night looking after my little dog. Yes, I could ask her and yes, she would possibly agree to stay, but I wasn’t going to ask. I was without pain for all of Friday and on Saturday I returned to my dog and flat. On Monday the district nurse arrived with what she said the hospital should have given me when discharged, but no matter, I had it now.

It has been seven days now spent at home and for the vast majority of that span of time my armchair has supported me admirably. I have cooked baked potatoes on two evenings and had bread from my local bakery to feed on for other meals. I’ve lost about 8-10 pounds in weight which in truth I can afford to lose, but exercise is something I cannot do. The follow-up appointment to this kidney procedure is on the twentieth of this month with X-rays and a CT Scan at 8:30am followed by a visit to the surgeons’ clinic at 9:15. It’s there the catheter and the stent are due to be removed provided the previous examinations show no abnormalities.

I’m of the opinion that it will be at this clinic I will be facing some difficult decisions. One could result in leaving me permanently incontinent or another could be an operation to either reduce the size of the prostate and risk the cancer carried therein spreading to other organs and bones, or remove the gland and face the consequences of that. I not medically trained, but having a stent and catheter inside me for two weeks must have caused the muscles that are used to retain fluids in the bladder to certainly weaken their effect, if not to eliminate their ability for good.

Before the 2nd of January I had kidney stones with the possibility of pain sometime in the future. Today I’m stone free but with the possibility of pain, or worse, in the future. I was stupid to agree to this operation. I shall not be so quick to agree with the next one to remove the four parathyroid glands that make the calcium that amongst other things, make the kidney stones.

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Smorgasbord Laughter Lines Rewind and an invitation from D.G. Kaye and Sally to join in the fun.

Share the laughter

Smorgasbord Blog Magazine

We hope you won’t mind a few repeats today but we are still getting back to normal (or as normal as we will ever be) in our respective abodes.. But this from last year.. and we hope you will enjoy again.  Debby GiesD.G. Kaye Writer Blog  and I are very happy to keep finding new material to make you laugh but we are very happy if you would like to join in and share your humour too..

If you would like to share your favourite joke.. and get a plug in for your blog or books.. then email it to me at sally.cronin@moyhill.com (this is a family show!)

I have also found some book titles in the archives that might amuse you……

Anyway for those of you who made New Year’s Resolutions…………….

D. G. Kaye – Buy:Amazon USAnd: Amazon UK  BlogD.G…

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Vanished

This is the second five-star review I have read today of this book.

Mark Bierman

This is a Guest Blog Post about my novel, Vanished, that was kindly hosted by author Karen Ingalls.

I am grateful to Karen for this opportunity! Please click on the following link to view and purchase Karen’s novels: Amazon.com

Here is the Guest Post:

Author, Mark Bierman

I am pleased to have Rave Reviews Book Club Member, Mark Bierman, as my guest this week. Drawing on his work as a private investigator and a correctional officer, Mark combines unique experiences and imagination to create stories and characters.

His novel, Vanished,  is a remarkable story about Human Trafficking.

    

Synopsis:

When a shared tragedy strikes the lives of John Webster an his son-in-law, Tyler Montgomery, they seek healing by embarking on a good will mission to earthquake-ravaged Haiti.

The mission quickly changes from benign to perilous after a young girl is kidnapped by human traffickers, and the…

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