Gleaned from Off-G btls (such useful insects!):
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Pretty much what Nurse Erin was saying 18 months ago.
“Mom died. Best efforts. Terribly sorry. Had to burn her. Here’s your bill and complimentary carton of cremains.”
Meantime here in Kent my spouse is emailed from a “noreply” address the day before a long-awaited telephone assessment which might give entry to the waiting list for therapy: cancelled, sorry, we’ll get back to you.
No why, no when, no here’s what to do in the meantime.
Just rot at home, povvo, along with all the other rotting vegetables. (Alas.)
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