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Corona quarantine diary
Autor de la hebra: Mervyn Henderson

expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
No sooner said than done... Oct 14

Our Prime Minister declared today the "state of calamity" in the country due to the "serious evolution" of the pandemic.
The country crossed the barrier of two thousand daily cases.
We can be also forced to use facial masks on the streets.
And here are other measures we need to follow:
http
... See more
Our Prime Minister declared today the "state of calamity" in the country due to the "serious evolution" of the pandemic.
The country crossed the barrier of two thousand daily cases.
We can be also forced to use facial masks on the streets.
And here are other measures we need to follow:
https://www.plataformamedia.com/en/2020/10/14/portugal-returns-to-the-state-of-calamity-use-of-mask-on-public-roads-recommended/
I wonder when will this plague end in the world...
Ok, let's stay positive and bring some joy, laughter, and smiles with children.
I have found this old interview (probably some of you have already watched) about Donald Trump:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYviM5xevC8
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Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
España
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español al inglés
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PERSONA QUE INICIÓ LA HEBRA
Calamity Oct 14

I noticed that, expressisverbis, on the news tonight. They said that "calamity" in Spanish, which struck me as odd. Is a calamity the same as an alarm, like we have here? Some European Union! We can't even use the same terms for a huge, frightening, chaotic balls-up.

The positive side is that this time we all know what it means, with none of the previous mystery.

Great Trump video! I hadn't seen it before. Kids (and drunks) always tell the truth.


[Edited a
... See more
I noticed that, expressisverbis, on the news tonight. They said that "calamity" in Spanish, which struck me as odd. Is a calamity the same as an alarm, like we have here? Some European Union! We can't even use the same terms for a huge, frightening, chaotic balls-up.

The positive side is that this time we all know what it means, with none of the previous mystery.

Great Trump video! I hadn't seen it before. Kids (and drunks) always tell the truth.


[Edited at 2020-10-14 20:58 GMT]
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expressisverbis
 

expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
"States of Confusion" Oct 14

Mervyn Henderson wrote:

I noticed that, expressisverbis, on the news tonight. They said that "calamity" in Spanish, which struck me as odd. Is a calamity the same as an alarm, like we have here? Some European Union! We can't even use the same terms for a huge, frightening, chaotic balls-up.

The positive side is that this time we all know what it means, with none of the previous mystery.

Great Trump video! I hadn't seen it before. Kids (and drunks) always tell the truth.


[Edited at 2020-10-14 20:58 GMT]


It seems we have 4 states from the less to the most serious:
State of Alert, State of Contingency, State of Calamity and State of Emergency.
I am going to try to translate their definitions from what I read in a newspaper:

Alert:
It is the lowest state, it represents a less serious and therefore less limiting situation. This means that "the means of civil protection and the security forces and services are in readiness" to restore order.

Contingency:
This state requires people to take preventive measures, such as limiting gatherings or short hours in shops.
The measures taken by municipalities to deal with the situation must be articulated and coordinated with civil protection authorities at national level.

Calamity:
The law states that may impose restrictions on the movement or residence of persons, other living beings or vehicles, and it can be applied for reasons of the safety of people or operations.
It is also legal to form "sanitary and safety fences"; establish of limits or restrictions to the movement of persons, other living beings or vehicles, submit to collective controls to prevent the spread of epidemic outbreaks, as per the "Basic Law of Civil Protection".

Emergency:
An extreme measure of limitation of citizens' rights, freedoms and guarantees, which is why it is provided for in the Constitution and may imply forced quarantine and isolation for all.
Several fundamental rights can be denied, such as the right of movement, strike, or demonstration. According to the law, only certain fundamental rights cannot be suspended (the right to life, personal integrity, personal identity, civil capacity and citizenship, the non-retroactivity of criminal law, the right of defence of the accused and freedom of conscience and religion).
Only the President can declare a State of Emergency, a decision which must be approved by the Assembly of the Republic, after hearing the Government.

And last, but not least, we also have a 5th State:

It is called the "State of Siege":
The State of Siege can only be declared in the event of effective or imminent aggression by foreign forces, serious threat, or in situations where the sovereignty, independence, integrity of the territory or the democratic constitutional order are called into question.

To be honest, I had to make my research, because I was confused by all those states.
The "Alarma" Spanish state is the equivalent to the Portuguese "Alerta" (Alert) state. Please check it here:
"¿Qué es el estado de alarma?
El estado de alarma es el más leve de los tres estados excepcionales (alarma, excepción y sitio) y está previsto para grandes catástrofes, crisis sanitarias o paralizaciones graves de los servicios públicos como consecuencia de huelgas o conflictos laborales."
https://www.elperiodico.com/es/politica/20201009/estado-de-alarma-que-es-madrid-7888430

Oh, that is so true! Children and drunks are pure persons!

[Edited at 2020-10-14 22:23 GMT]

You may find several errors, so please correct them. I was writing this while my cat was destroying my flat...! Thanks

[Edited at 2020-10-14 22:26 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-14 22:36 GMT]


Mervyn Henderson
P.L.F.Persio
 

Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
España
Local time: 03:32
español al inglés
+ ...
PERSONA QUE INICIÓ LA HEBRA
Home alone V (Let the word go out from this day forth) Oct 15

[for those unfamiliar with the “wavies” at the end last time, you have to imagine we’re moving into fantasy or flashback mode, like on the TV or during films when the screen goes wavy and people’s voices go all echoey] …


“Double, double toil and trouble
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble
Hear ye now our prophecy
A tragic tale of brethren three
Of the Kennedy clan, of love and hate
Of plots a-hatching and loathsome fate

In so
... See more
[for those unfamiliar with the “wavies” at the end last time, you have to imagine we’re moving into fantasy or flashback mode, like on the TV or during films when the screen goes wavy and people’s voices go all echoey] …


“Double, double toil and trouble
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble
Hear ye now our prophecy
A tragic tale of brethren three
Of the Kennedy clan, of love and hate
Of plots a-hatching and loathsome fate

In southern climes, in the noonday sun
That’s where Johnny gets his gun
In a sixth-floor window, who will see
Thon murderous beast whose names are three?
He checks th’ aim, inserts a shell
And wide he opens the Gates of Hell

In Angels’ City, Bobby is chosen
But his dreams will soon be frozen
For amid an Ambassador’s stoves and plates
The cold-eyed killer skulks and waits
RFK speaks, the crowd does roar,
And his lifeblood leaves him on a kitchen floor

Edward late at night carouses
A comely damsel his lust arouses
A giggle here, a fondle there,
Sore distract him from all due care
And yon fair maid meets her demise
‘Neath a bridge too far, a Bridge of Sighs”


“Gee whizz! Holy hell! That’s the third time this week!” I jerked up in bed. That creepy dream with the three witches again. Sure gave me the willies. But what did it all mean? Sixth floor? A beast with three names? As for the rest of it … maybe I ought to talk to my brothers, warn them or something. But what would I even warn them about?: “Bobby, listen to me, stay out of the kitchen, will ya? And Ted, you gotta lose the broads and bridges right now, you hear?”

Beside me, Jackie was up in bed too. She put her arm around my shoulders.

“What is it, hon? Why, you’re in a cold sweat, my love. What’s the matter?”

“A bad dream, sweetie. It’s nothing. Sorry I woke you.”

“Oh no, I wasn’t sleeping. I couldn’t. Jack, I just can’t decide between beige or mustard yellow for the new drawing room. What do you think? Or should we go for pistachio? What about a classic azure? There’s just so much to think about, Jack. I don’t know how I get through the day, honestly I don’t. Sometimes it gets me down so much. It gets to my soul, my love. You know what a sensitive creature you’re married to. It’s all because the French are due for a visit soon, and I’m damned if I’m going to give dreary old Yvonne even the least chance to bitch about our wonderful White House.”

She thought Charlie Boy’s wife really had it in for her. She probably wasn’t far wrong, though, the way the man had drooled over her in Paris. I was bored out of my mind listening to him droning on about the spirit of June 18 beside me at dinner over there, but I had to keep him away from Jackie because I reckoned the old soldier would have had his hand up her skirt under the table before you could say ‘Let them eat muff cake’.

I could handle Jackie’s obsession with the White House décor, though, and 99% of the time she was there for me. But the other 1% was dreadful. I came home early one night, found her lolling on the sofa in the lounge. She’d obviously had a few Pinot Noirs too many:

“Oh my word, there he is,” she said, trying to get her head off the cushion and on to the edge of the sofa to get a good look at me, and succeeding at the third attempt, but spilling wine on the carpet in the process, “the Man of the Moment. Jack Kennedy. Well, well, well. My little Jack-in-the-box. Do you know why I call you Jack-in-the-box, honey?”

“No, I don’t, sweetheart. Because I pop up unexpectedly?” I asked, guardedly.

“Well, that too, dear,” she slurred, kicking off her shoes and spilling the rest of the wine. “You pop in, and you pop out, you pop out and you pop in. But the main reason I call you Jack-in-the-box is because you’re always in some box or other. Everyone’s but mine, that is. Tell me, what does that F really stand for in John F. Kennedy? Is it Faggot?” She giggled, and reached for the bottle of wine on the coffee table. “Oh no, we know you’re no fag. Could it be Fuckwipe? Or Philanderer?

“Philanderer is spelt with …” I began, but she cut me short.

“I know how to spell philanderer, Mr President.” She waved her glass at me. “In fact, I’ll spell it out for you, would you like that, Jack, yes, I will. Philanderer, philanderer … now, let me see, it begins with an A, then an S, then another S, then an H, and then O-L-E, “philanderer”. Am I right, Jack? I am, aren’t I? I was always good at spelling bees, you know. So who was it this evening, honey? Was it that blonde tart Marilyn? Maybe she ran her fingers up and down it between your legs like it was a microphone and sang Happy Birthday into it all big-breathy and big-breasty, huh, did she, Jack?” She brought the bottle up to her mouth like it was a mike, and began to sing: “Happy Birthday to Jack - ‘Cos he digs my huge rack - Happy Birthday, Happy Birth-…”

“How can you say such a disgusting thing?” I countered. “Of course I haven’t been with her today. In fact, I haven’t even seen that woman in ages. You’re well off course, Jackie.”

And I hadn’t lied, either. How could I lie to the mother of my children? Of course I hadn’t been with Marilyn. I was telling the truth. What they call a half-truth, though, because actually I’d been heaving it into someone else that particular day. But she wasn’t far wrong. The last time I’d been with Marilyn was the day after she sang Happy Birthday to me live on stage. What a song. But if I liked the girl’s singing, I liked her birthday gift that next night even more. It was wrapped, too. All wrapped up real tight in the scantiest, skimpiest, slinkiest, sexiest, see-throughest dress I’ve ever seen.

That’s what being the President’s all about. One day you’re staring down Khrushchev over missiles in Cuba, or standing up to Castro himself over the Bay of Pigs fiasco, or sorting out the unsortable, that Godawful lose-lose mess over in Nam, as the Leader of the Free World, and the next you’re taking much tougher decisions on wallpaper and listening to the accusations and tribulations of the wives of powerful men, while the kids play under your desk.

But I had to forget about all that Johnny-getting-his-gun stuff, put it out of my mind pronto, because I had a big day ahead of me. And anyway, to hell with it, I’d never been called Johnny. Pop never called me that, and neither did anybody else. A long time ago he said to me, “Son, I could never make the presidency myself. Too dodgy. Too sleazy. Too Irish. Too late. Joe’s gone, so he has, fighting for his country. Your sisters were never in the running, of course. Kick got herself killed with that no-good Fitzwilliam guy anyway, God rest her soul. And especially not Rosemary. She was a little slow, you might say. Not as slow as she was after the lobotomy I arranged, but I made a big mistake, and I’ll pay for it when I go to meet my maker. Everyone makes mistakes, don’t they? But how could a woman be President, bejasus? The very idea. Son, they call your brother Robert Bobby, and Edward’s Ted. But nobody calls you Johnny, oh no, not you. You’re John. Just John. John Fitzgerald Kennedy, the next President of these United States of America.”

And I made it, I sure did. With a little help from him. OK, not just a little. A lot. As he reminded me one day when Bobby was becoming a little too zealous in his new job as Attorney-General:

“You gotta persuade your brother not to stick his nose into other people’s business, John,” he told me. “He’s beginning to make me look bad. I have a past, you know. I talked to him, but he told me he couldn’t leave it. I said these people were just businessmen, even if they did bend the rules a little, and he tried to tell me they were criminals. Jesus, Mary and Joseph too! You think you got to be President because of my pretty face? Or yours, or his? You know why they used to call me Bootleg Kennedy? It sure as hell wasn’t because I wore boots on the end of my legs. Fact is, I bought you this presidency, son, and Bobby’s gonna have to back down a tad. So you remind your brother, John. You remind him of your own words, “Think what your country can do for you.”

“Actually, pop, what I said was …”

But he was already making tracks. “Remember what I said, son. I got a date with Judith. Sam Giancana’s out of town until next week, so I gotta make hay while the sun shines.”

Bobby was walking a dangerous line with that kind of thing. And me too. Man, we had that creep J Edgar sniffing at our asses all day every day at the start. And not just because of the mafia. No, we knew he was wire-tapping us to latch on to our little foibles and indiscretions here and there, and probably spying on us with our girlfriends too. At first we just had some fun behind his back. We would be standing around in the Oval Office, the three of us, and Hoover would be looking at some report or other on my desk, talking to me about it, and over his shoulder I could see Bobby blowing out his jowls and throwing out his stomach to ape Hoover, and rubbing his crotch. Or then he’d be busting my brother’s chops in one corner of the room, and I’d turn around, drop my pants and do a quick moon for Bobby to see. We sure laughed our nuts off at that kind of thing.

But in the end Bobby and I were pretty sure he was smooching and cuddling up with his “associate” Clyde Tolson on the quiet, so we had a bit of sleazy leverage on him too. After all, he might be the FBI, but what good’s the Secret Service to the President if he doesn’t use it? So as time went on, we were much more relaxed. In fact, one night, when I was dollar sure I’d been tailed by the Feds to a tryst, I even had the lady write “Hi Edgar” on my butt with her lipstick, and then I minced all around the room in the altogether, just to make sure he got the message loud and clear. And then Pop had pitched in for us again, too. Said he’d made Hoover an offer he couldn’t refuse. I got to admit it was pretty smart. Kind of illegal, but smart:

What he did was invite Hoover over to the White House to talk to him about something, and when J Edgar arrived he was playing with little Caroline in the den. He said, “Oh Mr Hoover, thank you so much for coming, but I’ve gotta slip out for a while, and I’m dreadfully sorry, but can you look after little Caroline here for me while I’m gone?” So saying, he picks up Caroline and puts her into Hoover’s arms. Hoover wasn’t too pleased, of course. Pop just strolled around for ten minutes, and when he came back, the both of them were sitting on the floor playing with her dollies. Pop said “Thank you so much, Mr Hoover, and I hope Caroline behaved herself.” Hoover said, “Oh yes, she’s a charming child, and such a beautiful little girl too. You and your son are very lucky.” Then Pop shooed Caroline out, and said:

“Yes, she is a cute kid, isn’t she, Hoover? Her daddy loves her, and she loves him like nothing in this world. There isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him, you see. Any. Thing. If her father even asked her to tell a little white lie for him, she’d do it. That’s the love between a father and a daughter, Hoover. You aren’t married, are you, Hoover? No. And no kids either, right? So you can only imagine. And what I want you to do, Hoover, is to imagine little Caroline there, just five years old, in her best dress and her pigtails, going down Pennsylvania Avenue with her nanny and her teddy bear, and walking up the steps to the nearest police station, holding her nanny’s hand in hers, and the other hand holding her bear by the leg, with poor little teddy’s head bumpety-bumpety-bumping up the steps, and the cops saying, “Well howdy, young lady, and what can we do for you?”, and then little Caroline starts to sob and says, “There’s a bad man called Hoover comes to our house, and he touched me and held me and played with me and said I was such a beautiful little girl, and he doesn’t like my daddy.” None of which is a lie, of course, so she doesn’t even have to worry her pretty little head about that when she says her prayers to Jesus every night with her daddy, but you get the picture, Hoover. The cops will fill in the gaps. It’s sketchy and maybe shaky too, but not as shaky as your legs will be in the showers at the Washington Penitentiary with all those big bad SOBs lining up behind you. Especially as you were instrumental in putting a lot of them there in the first place. In the best-case scenario, you’d lose your job, your prestige, and your respect. At worst you’d be looking at thirty years in the big house among all the faggots. I hear that kind of stuff doesn’t bother you so much, but even so it’s always nice to be able to choose, ain’t it, Hoover? You leave the Kennedy brothers alone, you hear?”

When he told me what he’d done, I was horrified, but all he said was “What, suddenly it’s a crime to break the law?”

Hell, was that the time? Shucks, I had to get a move on. Tell you the truth, I was bushed, and the last thing I wanted to do was travel, but Jackie was all excited about it, had bought new clothes and all. She showed me the matching hat this morning. Said it was a “pill-box”. Not that that meant anything to me. And not that a new getup was anything new. New for Jackie would be wearing an old outfit. But I didn’t care about all that. I knew I was a good father, but I also knew I wasn’t the world’s greatest husband. No, I hadn’t been all I should have been to Jackie, and so I was usually more than eager to make it up to her when I could. And she was all smiling and happy about her smart little pink suit for the trip, so that made me happy too. After all, it was bound to be a swell day out – a bit of flesh-pressing and baby-kissing with the rednecks and their southern belles, lunch with Governor Connally and his wife, and straight back home. Yep, I was feeling better about it all already. Maybe looking forward to it, even. What the hell, why not? Dallas, here we come. What’s not to like? …


[Edited at 2020-10-15 09:28 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-15 09:35 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-15 09:51 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-15 09:57 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-15 11:17 GMT]
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P.L.F.Persio
expressisverbis
 

Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
España
Local time: 03:32
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Translator depression, anyone? Oct 16

I can't be the only one. I see what I call a "translation tunnel" of wildly complicated stuff stretching out before me so far I can't see the light at the end of it all. One of those jobs. Think of all the possible problems you might have with translations - difficulty, format, research etc. - and then think of a translation where every single one of them applies. That's the kind of blaargh I'm on right now, and have been since 6 am. Not that it's such a rush, but that's when I do my best work, ... See more
I can't be the only one. I see what I call a "translation tunnel" of wildly complicated stuff stretching out before me so far I can't see the light at the end of it all. One of those jobs. Think of all the possible problems you might have with translations - difficulty, format, research etc. - and then think of a translation where every single one of them applies. That's the kind of blaargh I'm on right now, and have been since 6 am. Not that it's such a rush, but that's when I do my best work, from then until now. And after I've done that one, there are another two just the same. Not after I've done the first one, in fact, because I'm going to have to move around from one to the other to keep my sanity and to keep deadlines too.

Just thought I'd mention it.

The other side of the coin is that I had a doctor's appointment this morning, which I was just about thinking of getting ready for, although it was just an unwelcome interruption for me, when the doctor rings instead to say they were doing all the stuff by phone that they could do by phone, to reduce crowding and backlogs, and they're also sending out all the paperwork for the next appointment by post too.

So she just asked a few questions, and I gave a few answers. Which is great. The way I was feeling when she rang, it wouldn't have bothered me unduly if she'd said the reason she was telling me not to bother going was because I'd be dead by tomorrow, so there wasn't any point even going there, and definitely no point getting another appointment. Or doing these translations, come to think of it! Anyway, I've gained another hour to spend in the tunnel. ... Is that a faint light I can see in the distance? Certainly might be.
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expressisverbis
 

expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
Translator's irritation here Oct 16

Yesterday, I also received a project with a tight deadline, but I had no depression at all, the text was nice. I try to not be depressed with annoying texts.
Regarding medical appointments, it seems that all medical institutions are choosing this system, for patient protection as we all know.
I also had a medical appointment by phone last month.
Now, one thing is getting on my nerves: our Government wants to impose the installation of an application ("StayWay Covid") on our sma
... See more
Yesterday, I also received a project with a tight deadline, but I had no depression at all, the text was nice. I try to not be depressed with annoying texts.
Regarding medical appointments, it seems that all medical institutions are choosing this system, for patient protection as we all know.
I also had a medical appointment by phone last month.
Now, one thing is getting on my nerves: our Government wants to impose the installation of an application ("StayWay Covid") on our smartphones.
I understand this is another protection measure, but it is ridiculous! Old people who don't have a mobile phone, or mobile phone users who don't have an internet connection, how do they do it?
The amount of a large fine can be determined, if we do not have that application installed. The Government is still analysing this, but I hope this measure won't be successful.
I have no guarantee this is a 100% reliable tool for detecting the contact with infected people, or if I have been exposed to the disease.
Are other countries adopting similar measures?
https://stayawaycovid.pt/landing-page/

PS: I wish you good luck with this translation! You will see the end of that tunnel soon!


[Edited at 2020-10-16 15:53 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-16 15:53 GMT]
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Mervyn Henderson
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expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
A (small) hand of hope! Oct 17

_df0c2b06-0ef6-11eb-9477-4f430730ecf3

https://www.hindustantimes.com/it-s-viral/newborn-baby-pulls-doctor-s-mask-viral-pic-turns-into-symbol-of-hope-for-many/story-lf7S5LRBKr1z9ZRXJiztnI.html


Mervyn Henderson
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Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
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Suffering Spaniards Oct 20

Indeed, Spain continues to suffer, with various locations shut down across the country, or about to be. Navarra just down the road's practically a no-go area, for instance.

And a vote of no-confidence coming up in parliament tomorrow, too, or was it the next day? Doesn't really matter, because it'll solve bog all, whatever way it goes. I only watch and read the news now because I feel I have a duty to keep myself informed, but it might as well be the Corona News, same thing every da
... See more
Indeed, Spain continues to suffer, with various locations shut down across the country, or about to be. Navarra just down the road's practically a no-go area, for instance.

And a vote of no-confidence coming up in parliament tomorrow, too, or was it the next day? Doesn't really matter, because it'll solve bog all, whatever way it goes. I only watch and read the news now because I feel I have a duty to keep myself informed, but it might as well be the Corona News, same thing every day.

The vote of no-confidence is by those cheery elements in Vox, the People who want to Put Things Right in This Country. Right being the operating word. To rid the country of a tyrant, they say. That's what the parliament's turned into, a venue for slanging matches. Meanwhile, the country goes to the perros.

Haven't posted on this for a few days now, due to shedloads of work, and in these viral times you have to keep a grateful nose to the blaargh grindstone. I'm not finished with Home Alone, and hopefully I'll be able to put the Trump thing to bed soon. Before the Americans do. But that nonsense doesn't write itself (although sometimes I think it does), and I really don't have the time these days. However, thanks to Tom's "Completely frivolous thread" thread, I've also picked up some material that has good wavies potential. I can say no more.
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expressisverbis
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expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
No end in sight :( Oct 20

I can't wait to read it...
It is hitting us hard here too. A nurse committed suicide last week.
The shortage of doctors and added pressure on the healtcare providers by all means seem to be the cause of her suicide.


Mervyn Henderson
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P.L.F.Persio  Identity Verified
Países Bajos
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Miembro 2010
inglés al italiano
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Speechless Oct 20

expressisverbis wrote:

It is hitting us hard here too. A nurse committed suicide last week.
The shortage of doctors and added pressure on the healthcare providers by all means seem to be the cause of her suicide.


She must have felt so overwhelmed, helpless, and lonely.


Mervyn Henderson
expressisverbis
 

Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
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Definitions Oct 20

Dreadful. I heard a classic definition of depression is when the person can see no way out. And considering the more than disturbing trends on the Peninsula these days - again, because we don't seem to be learning anything in Iberia - there must be quite a few distressed people like her looking around them at the hospitals.

expressisverbis
 

expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
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It's true Oct 20

P.L.F.Persio wrote:

She must have felt so overwhelmed, helpless, and lonely.


I cannot find any English news, but this tragedy happened at Hospital de São João, in Porto.
Her name was Alice...
A friend of her wrote the following text:
"Alice couldn't stand it any longer.
She lost the magic. The charm of her exterior, but above all she lost the magic of her soul.
Alice stopped believing in a country and in world that put aside almost everything to stop a storm: Covid-19.
Alice needed help. R.I.P."
https://www.noticiasaominuto.com/fama/1607267/jorge-gabriel-lamenta-morte-de-enfermeira-nao-suportou-a-pressao
This text above was posted as a tribute to Alice by a TV host in his Facebook account.


P.L.F.Persio
Mervyn Henderson
 

expressisverbis
Portugal
Local time: 02:32
Miembro 2015
inglés al portugués
+ ...
I agree Oct 20

Mervyn Henderson wrote:

Dreadful. I heard a classic definition of depression is when the person can see no way out. And considering the more than disturbing trends on the Peninsula these days - again, because we don't seem to be learning anything in Iberia - there must be quite a few distressed people like her looking around them at the hospitals.


This is what scares me the most.


 

Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
España
Local time: 03:32
español al inglés
+ ...
PERSONA QUE INICIÓ LA HEBRA
Friday 23 October Oct 23

7 am. Just been down for the paper. I noticed a woman looking at me. Looking at me rather longer than strictly necessary, too. A woman looking at me doesn’t bother me, obviously, why would it, I need all the help I can get. Not that this woman was Kate Moss, also obviously. She didn’t have Kate’s body, she didn’t have Kate’s face, and she didn’t have any Katemossishness at all. But she took a good look all the same, and then I realised the awful truth. I’d forgotten my face mask.<... See more
7 am. Just been down for the paper. I noticed a woman looking at me. Looking at me rather longer than strictly necessary, too. A woman looking at me doesn’t bother me, obviously, why would it, I need all the help I can get. Not that this woman was Kate Moss, also obviously. She didn’t have Kate’s body, she didn’t have Kate’s face, and she didn’t have any Katemossishness at all. But she took a good look all the same, and then I realised the awful truth. I’d forgotten my face mask.

Back home, feeling like a feckless felon, I crept into the lift. Thank God none of my masked neighbours were around to witness the vile offence, or to share the lift with me. Not that they or I would have shared it, mask or no mask. I haven’t shared this lift with anyone since March. Yes, all of a sudden I felt I was back in March, back to when I didn’t even use the lift, and nor did anyone else, even the fat bloke up there on the sixth floor I’d see through the spyhole (don’t judge me, please – we all use the spyhole, that’s what it’s there for, to spy), puffing and panting his way up (and even down) the stairs during lockdown.

Last night I’d arranged to have a post-clocking-off drink with the Basques in a bar that does the best tortillas in the world. So they say. Well, they might not have been the best in the world, but they were good and slightly liquidy, as a tortilla should be. We had a spicy one (definitely not Basque, Christel).

But I wasn’t interested in the food, or the Voll Damm beer they offered me, saying they had no green-bottle Alhambra. Later I saw the chef downing a green Alhambra in the kitchen, and I’d have said something, incensed, but the Basques said No, leave it, it’s not worth it, Mervyn, don't make a scene, lad.

It was that kind of evening. James Thread-Closer had just closed a thread on me, and I was annoyed.

Those of you who know me are aware that I don’t go in for long descriptive stuff, Yon noble oak standing robust and, er, stalwart against … the stark, er, dawn of a new day (see? I can’t, and I don’t ...), but what I like to do, like Shakespeare, sitting there down at the pub, watching all the lords, ladies, wide boys, whores, hangers-on and pimps parading before him, and writing out all that Zounds, Sire, s’blood, thou must needs vouchsafe … blaargh, simply because he couldn’t afford the candles to light up his page at home, is to describe people. People.

There were four people at the table directly opposite me and the Basques. Three male artistes and a groupie, I reckoned …

O bum, o shit, o fuck, it’s time to get back to the endless, pitiless, meaningless blaargh.

More next time about Second-Wave People …


[Edited at 2020-10-23 06:40 GMT]

[Edited at 2020-10-23 08:47 GMT]
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expressisverbis
P.L.F.Persio
 

Mervyn Henderson  Identity Verified
España
Local time: 03:32
español al inglés
+ ...
PERSONA QUE INICIÓ LA HEBRA
B***er the blaargh Oct 23

That's right, bother the blaargh. I've got the morning off. Told the boss I couldn't take it today. I was up front and personal about it. It's always the way to go, I feel. I came right out with it, I'll tell you:

"I'm fed up," I told him warmly. "Look at this utterly unstylish corporate codswallop I have to wrestle into something approaching style. In fact, codswallop is being unkind to cods, not to mention wallops. I'm burning up here. I just looked out the window at a fracas bet
... See more
That's right, bother the blaargh. I've got the morning off. Told the boss I couldn't take it today. I was up front and personal about it. It's always the way to go, I feel. I came right out with it, I'll tell you:

"I'm fed up," I told him warmly. "Look at this utterly unstylish corporate codswallop I have to wrestle into something approaching style. In fact, codswallop is being unkind to cods, not to mention wallops. I'm burning up here. I just looked out the window at a fracas between a taxi driver and someone he'd nearly run over on the zebra crossing down there, and I almost went downstairs to punch either of them in the face, or even both of them. I'd have punched that frigging zebra too, if it had given me any lip."

The boss nodded understandingly at me in the bathroom mirror.

"Take all the time you need, lad. Your job will be there waiting for you when you decide you can cope again."

So I've got the morning off. Might take the bloody afternoon and all.
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Chris S
expressisverbis
P.L.F.Persio
 
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