Tag Archives: disease

2426.  Putty

Juniper Crappe had a terrible disability. It was a rare complaint. In fact it was so rare that specialists wondered if she was the only one in the world with the disease. Yes, it was classified as a disease. They called it Crappe’s Disease.

The thing was, everything Juniper touched became as soft as a peeled banana. She would pick up a book and her fingers would go through it like a squelchy mess. If she picked up a knife and fork to eat, it was as if the metal was made of plasticine. Door handles disintegrated into squishy disarray when she touched them.

The real problem for specialists was that they had no idea what caused it. Even to shake Juniper’s hand by way of a greeting was like putting ones hand in a jug of cold custard. Fortunately, her being fed with a spoon was successful; at least for a time. Her mouth was not like her hands; things softened only when touched by her hands. Gradually however, as the specialists predicted, things worsened. Juniper couldn’t even touch her face without her fingers feeling naked bone.

If anyone knows of anyone else who might have Crappe’s Disease, or knows of a possible cure, Juniper would be extremely grateful. Or she would be if she was still alive.

1844. Boarding the train

Here I am quietly awaiting the arrival of my train and minding my own business. People keep getting too close to me. Don’t they understand that we have been asked to distance ourselves for several meters away from each person? Some people have no regard for public safety or the well-being of others. It’s typical of the modern society in which we live.

It’ll be the same when the train arrives. Everyone will push and shove, and the carriage will be like a can of sardines with as many people as possible stuffed into a confined space. I’ve a good mind to scream out “FIRE! FIRE!” That should set the people running in all directions and I would get the whole train carriage to myself. In fact, I will.



Everyone just looked at me like I was a nut case. It didn’t have the slightest effect.

And now I’ve missed my train.

1811. The stamp of fame

Lois tried to post on her blog daily. Her postings were open to comments and likes. In fact, she felt quite thrilled when someone commented or gave her a like. It was as if putting time into creating a post was worthwhile, particularly if the comment said that her posting had been helpful.

Then one day someone posted a comment that was a bit rude: Why don’t you write about something interesting, you weasel?

Lois was a bit upset about it, but not too much. She continued to write and post. The comments got more vehement. Why don’t you write about something we can all understand? You’ve got your head in the clouds thinking that people are interested in such rubbish. I wish you’d stop annoying the hell out of people like me.

Lois could have deleted the comment but she left it on her blog, although she didn’t respond to it. She wondered why the commenter bothered to even read her blog. However, someone else came to her defence.

Professor Lois Stinghammer is the world’s leading expert in Neurocardio Conversigence. She blogs daily to help those of us who suffer from such a disease. We understand better what is happening to us and what we must do to help alleviate our condition. Thank you, Doctor Lois for your time and kindness, and a pox on Jello-in-the-kitchen for their rude and inconsiderate reaction.

Of course Neurocardio Conversigence wasn’t a disease that existed, and nor was Lois a doctor, but it wasn’t long before both got their own page on Wikipedia.

1249. Unsterilized syringes

A while back, in fact quite some time ago, say in the late 1800s, doctors didn’t worry too much about sterilizing hypodermic syringes between patients. Diseases were passed from one patient to the other. The woman with tuberculosis was injected with stuff using the same needle that had just been pulled out of someone else’s bum cheek to treat something else. It was a disaster. Lots of people died.

And that’s probably why there are so few of them alive today.

763. Myrtle’s sadness


Myrtle took India-Mae to see the specialist. India-Mae had fragile bones, stiffness of the joints, osteosclerosis, loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, dyspnea, salivation, abdominal pain, fever, paresthesias, nystagmus, optic neuritis, polyuria, stomatitis, albuminuria, nettle rash, skin, tooth and kidney damage and cardiac arrhythmias.

The specialist gave an injection.

It’s always sad to have to put down a pet rat.

Listen the story being read HERE!