Oma Stănescu's Blog
January 8, 2021
BRIDGE ACROSS THE TIME
The Smoldering Lovers
Hatha Yoga for a Quiet Painless Old Age
Le Feu du Karma
Le sortilège d'amour
Au Volonté du Temps
Be It So First Series
FOOTBRIDGE TO SUNSET: Tenth Edition
The Fire of Karma
LOVE SPELL
When the Providence Allows
THE OTHER FACE OF DESTINY: A NOVEL
The Station of Three Lines: A Novel
"Because my mother had a fever several times, Cami, the caregiver, called for the ambulance, they took her to the county hospital, and we could only find out about her through the phone calls Mary, my sister, gave there to find out if she was OK. I told my uncle on the phone that this crazy caregiver was wrong, that she shouldn't have her be hospitalized. Apparently, the doctor on duty did a test to her, which, of course, was positive, to increase the number of those officially reported with this virus, and while Mary, my sister, reassured me that the doctor told her that the patient was fine. and in a few days she is discharged, cos the doctors show “professional conscience,” it cannot be otherwise - on the third day of hospitalisation my sis was informed that mother had died. We were told that if we didn 't take her in seventy - two hours, the body would be burned. So Cami and I, pushed by Mary's phone, had to run to the County Hospital, to the civil status office, to the funeral home and where not, in one day, half of it being lost, because those corpse mongers at the morgue didn't want to release her discharge certificate, on the grounds that the caregiver was not a relative, while I was waiting outside the hospital, so that no masked grave-digger doctor would stick to me and make me take the test myself. Mary had to send a copy of her ID card for those there to get moving. But being positively labeled, although no one called the caregiver to be quarantined for two weeks, the poor mother was packed in two or three plastic bags, bare skin and the coffin, sealed, was brought to the grave by four masked jumbos, cos this is the protocol during the pandemic, may the pandemic be in their throats; the mortals do not realize that the persecution of reducing their number on the whole globe has begun." (From "Footbridge to Sunset" by Oma)
Hatha Yoga for a Quiet Painless Old Age
Le Feu du KarmaLe sortilège d'amour
Au Volonté du Temps
Be It So First Series
FOOTBRIDGE TO SUNSET: Tenth Edition
The Fire of Karma
LOVE SPELL
When the Providence Allows
THE OTHER FACE OF DESTINY: A NOVEL
The Station of Three Lines: A Novel
"Because my mother had a fever several times, Cami, the caregiver, called for the ambulance, they took her to the county hospital, and we could only find out about her through the phone calls Mary, my sister, gave there to find out if she was OK. I told my uncle on the phone that this crazy caregiver was wrong, that she shouldn't have her be hospitalized. Apparently, the doctor on duty did a test to her, which, of course, was positive, to increase the number of those officially reported with this virus, and while Mary, my sister, reassured me that the doctor told her that the patient was fine. and in a few days she is discharged, cos the doctors show “professional conscience,” it cannot be otherwise - on the third day of hospitalisation my sis was informed that mother had died. We were told that if we didn 't take her in seventy - two hours, the body would be burned. So Cami and I, pushed by Mary's phone, had to run to the County Hospital, to the civil status office, to the funeral home and where not, in one day, half of it being lost, because those corpse mongers at the morgue didn't want to release her discharge certificate, on the grounds that the caregiver was not a relative, while I was waiting outside the hospital, so that no masked grave-digger doctor would stick to me and make me take the test myself. Mary had to send a copy of her ID card for those there to get moving. But being positively labeled, although no one called the caregiver to be quarantined for two weeks, the poor mother was packed in two or three plastic bags, bare skin and the coffin, sealed, was brought to the grave by four masked jumbos, cos this is the protocol during the pandemic, may the pandemic be in their throats; the mortals do not realize that the persecution of reducing their number on the whole globe has begun." (From "Footbridge to Sunset" by Oma)
