ED | Jacobs Icepresso – Classic and Latte

jacobs icepresso latte esspresso canned can coffee

Did you know there are highlighters in pastel colors? Is it common knowledge that highlighters exist in pastels, not just eye-burning neons that I absolutely love? I only learned of this today. And I will not admit anything else about this discovery.

Anyway, since I’d like to avoid fizzy drinks for a little while, and yet my eyelids don’t get it, trying their best to fuse into one shut lid over my eyeballs, I’ve decided I might as well gaze upon the canned coffee section again. And so I’ve discovered something I can admit: Jacobs Icepresso in Classic and Latte flavors.

Coffee is good of taste, well balanced between “definitely coffee” and “huh, no -yuck, coffee- reaction here“. Not too sweet either. I can firmly recommend this one to those who found Monster Espresso – too strong or too sweet. This one’s juuust right.

Verdict: sick panda is still sick, but would drink this again

dracula review | Young Dracula | s1

young dracula vampire series british

A very British horror-drama-comedy series for younger audience. From the first glance it felt like a poor knock-off of Addams Family. From the second glance too. But I’ve watched the first season, and at times was even excited to sit down and watch another episode or two, so go figure…

About the Series: Count Dracula and his two children leave for Wales, a small town called Stokely. Story focuses on the children, their great differences, and hardships that come when your father is no other than Count Dracula.

Neither of the kids are vampires yet, one has to pass a test to get the powers, and there’s three more years left for Vlad. Ingrid, even though she embraced the role of vampire goddess and would do a great vampire, and she is the oldest – comedy is in the fact that she’s just a useless girl. Therefore ignored or even shunned by her father. All while Vlad is scheming and plotting to have some semblance of normal life.

It helps that their neighbors are jolly normal people. Except for their youngest son, who dreams of being a vampire. Thus he instantly becomes best friends with Vlad. They both attend school, try for rugby team, and do their best to prove their teacher, professor Van Helsing, that Vlad and his father are not, in fact, vampires.

My Opinion: I’d not show these series to my niece, nor would I recommend anyone do that. If you feel like watching it the way I did – because it’s Dracula, then go ahead. Other than that, stupid sexist jokes, poor humor in general, and not very entertaining plot makes for nothing. Were it not for good actors pulling the sled, there’d be nothing to talk about.

Verdict: 2/5, but I’ll watch the rest seasons, because it’s Dracula, and so I kind of have to.

Night Mode Reading ][ Patreon][ KoFi

I don’t know how to go on, therefore…

I will simply go on.

It’s strange beyond words. And the hurt is beyond words too. But I can’t sit there, numb, staring at the strangely empty room, thinking how the man, my father, who lived here for all my 30 years of life, is gone, and will never, ever come back.

So I’ll try to just write as before. I will try to work as before. And be as before. With hopes that this wrecking feeling will stop, somehow.

If you’re a parent, it is your absolute duty and responsibility to take care of yourself. Quit the bad habits, exercise a little, figure out how to eat healthier. The pain is absolutely impossible. Don’t do this to your kids. Any day can be the last, it’s your damn job to try and make it to the next one, alive and well.

Yes, my father’s cancer could’ve probably be found sooner. Maybe if he pushed himself to visit the doctors, get tested more. Maybe if he pushed the doctors to test him more when this or that ached and they waved it away as part of type II diabetes. Maybe if the damn doctors cared a little more about the job they do, about the people who depend on them… But that’s all “could’ve, would’ve, should’ve”. Instead now I have a grave to visit, and a home to support, and pain to deal with, with little to no time to grieve. I can’t even breathe writing this…

Rest in Peace, dad

I don’t know how to go on

We buried father today. And I don’t know how to go on.

I don’t have the time or luxury to grieve. I have to continue beating the path, work, twice as hard now, twice as much now, to keep the ends somewhat met. And on the inside I’m screaming.

No, I wasn’t very close with father, but of course, all I can remember now, are the good times. Who’ll drive us places now? Who’ll take us to doctors when there’s an emergency and we can’t, with ER workers so very mean locally? Who’ll wait for us for hours if need be? What will christmas look like? What about new years? Father’s day?

I’m in so much pain that I must contain…

How do I go on? I don’t understand, he’s never coming back, how do I go on?

Father has died

My father has died yesterday. We’re told it was peaceful, and he was no longer in pain, very calm, and with as much oxygen as his body could still be given. Official death reason is exhaustion by cancer and tumors.

Today we’re saying our goodbyes in a wake, tomorrow we’re burying him in a beautiful little place.

I’m broken beyond any reason. There’s not an inch of solid ground left to stand on.

If anyone per chance can help with the funeral expenses, we’d be grateful beyond words:

Father’s Cancer, the log | 1

Father was released from VLN hospital yesterday. Doctor called my mother and asked her if she can comply with his current decision. Due to forming coherent sentences, even if those sentences claim it was raining blue bricks yesterday, he is considered able to make decisions for himself regarding his own health. So he demanded to be sent home, and it happened.

Currently we’re wondering if doctor was lenient due to his growing aggression and anger. Nurses complained he’d pull out the tubing (artificial feeding, oxygen), screaming at them they’re “trying to hang him”. Medicine being met with anger outbursts over “attempted poisoning” and constant demand to go home.

Upon reaching our local hospital, and realizing the threat he might end up in another one, he grew violent with us too. Started beating at the car windows and sister’s husband, screaming obscenities, claiming he’ll suicide right here, fall and die, if anyone attempts to put him into hospital again. And upon returning home, where we had to carry him, the four of us, due to him not walking anymore, he said “thank god, I’ll die home”, so in some sense I do get his anger, it likely comes from very deep fear. But that doesn’t excuse anyone else in these stories, and the burden the failed system has now put on me and my disabled mother.

He doesn’t walk, barely moves, can’t lift his body weight at all. He refuses meds on same claims that he “is being poisoned”. He refuses diapers, because that’s degrading to him. His wife in pain having to lift his limbs up to push a pan under him for nature’s call isn’t, apparently. He gets angry when we try to change him after he has an accident too. He refuses mushed food for the most part, refuses broth, soups. Demands solid foods, sandwiches, that he promptly throws up. Still, he lays there happy, for he ate. It doesn’t register that nothing is left in his body of what he “ate” due to it being too solid to even reach the stomach.

Doctors say we’re to call ambulance if anything at all goes worse or changes, but we’re restricted by his conscious self, monitoring that we don’t try to do that. Even though he’s in enough pain to wake mum every hour or so so she’d turn him over (I sleep a little too deeply, even if just for a short while, but I honestly can’t hear him call). My mother is currently in a lot of pain herself, her back getting thrown out due to this 100 kilos weighting man wanting so badly to be an absolute biggest possible burden on her. Maybe it’s his last game, for he was always on the abusive side to all of us. Or maybe it’s metastasis affecting his already fairly damaged brain (ex boxer, served the army during the worst of peace times, then was a cop with a lot of awful experiences, underloved by his family: his sister is currently blaming us for not putting him into hospital, even though upon seeing him rave she ran inside to hide).

He has anywhere from a month (4th stage cancer, metastasis spread through absolutely whole of his body, due to puking up all food, he’s loosing weight, and will continue so because he refuses artificial feeding too) left, to three years.

I understand I sound cold. But I’m witnessing my mother expire due to a choice this man made, no matter whether he was coherent or not. I am deeply disappointed in our health system, who want to get rid of terminal cases as fast as they can, and stop treating people when they’re deemed terminal. I’m cold, because I’m numb.

Father’s short cancer journey

My father is on life support. He’s still talking, but things he’s saying aren’t coherent or make much contextual sense. Cancers spreading through his body are eating him up. And all I hope for is that he’s on good enough meds to make it not hurt anymore.
He’s been sick for a while, but our local hospital is not worth the toenails of the people they’re “treating”, and I will absolutely get vocal about it once this situation ends. There were many instances where they found blood where blood was not supposed to be, and he complained about stomach aches, kidney pains, and things like that (like persistent cough) for a while now. So they knew. And they chose to leave it at “ah, he has type II diabetes, must be complications, let’s change up the meds and see what happens”. This would inevitably grow worse, family doctor would get frustrated with our instance on check-ups, and pass him onto another one. He changed several, for none wanted the work this man was.
On June 18th I woke up to voices of strangers in my home. Mum has called an ambulance, and what an insolent woman came. She checked his vitals, told us he’s fine, even though he couldn’t get up, and was bed-ridden for three months. Then grated our asses for waiting this long: we didn’t. We called ambulance time and time again. We called family doctor and begged for a home visitation. None happened. Ambulance would come, check vitals, and ignore the pain this man was talking nonsense about. What pain if your vitals are fine, right?
After what was an extended arguing between this woman I don’t wish to call a medic, this ambulance driver, she finally agreed to take him in, and we had to carry the 100 kilos weighting man who couldn’t walk – down two flights of stairs and into the ambulance, because this woman came alone, unprepared, and near-rolling her eyes said “well, help him in, -I- can’t carry him!”
An hour in ER, with nurses and staff flocking around coffee machine and just watching the circus we wait for anyone at all. Father is starting to turn this human shade of purple-red, and is very clearly fainting. Mum screams, they rush in with the bed on wheels, and as we, yes, still mum and I, lift him into it – he faints.
Days go by, we bring him clothes and cool water or mineral water to drink, just to get told he’s fine, he’s talking, he’s laughing, vitals are good. Until at last we find his doctor’s number and ask her about it: his stomach is getting soft, there’s liquid in one of his lungs (the same he complained hurts really bad, to a point where he would only lay on his other side), but otherwise he’s fine. Do you feel my rage yet?
Again, days go by, there’s absolutely no filling of his medical file that we have access to as family online, so we call again. This time we’re answered by a different family doctor: yet another one quit the man who needed more help than just a prescription. This one too said he’s sick but he’s fine, just in more words.
June 29th father calls (he called almost every day to just generally talk a little bit, and so we followed the progress of him losing coherence, for he made less and less sense), and this is the last somewhat clear chat we have with him. He says, and I quite: bring me some clothes to change in, smaller t-shirt than the ones I have, they’re taking me to Vilnius (Lithuania’s Capital) for surgery.
We rush in, give him everything, BEG for nurses to give us his old clothes for washing, because we’re running out of his clothes by now, and go home to wait again. Due to covid-19 situation, people, visitors, aren’t yet allowed.
June 30th they take another Covid test, which is 24hrs, and on July 1st nurse calls us, urgently, to bring him clothes to change in, they’re taking him to Vilnius. There’s urgency in the air. As we’re lifting him out of wheel chair into the ambulance, he falls down and the four of us barely lift him up, barely conscious by now.
Since then he calls us every morning, very early, and says the same line: bring me some cold soda, would you? We kindly ask him where he lays (since such information isn’t necessarily available even to family member, and we need to write it on the bag for nurses to take it to him), and he, in a serious child tone says: I will find out and call you back.
He never does, of course, and likely soon forgets all about it, being on many meds, stress, pain relievers, and being generally very, very weak.
Today (July 3rd) we called in again, and got told that metastasis is spreading through his body, rapidly, and that no, we can’t, and absolutely shouldn’t bring him any drinks, he’s on the primer life support. It’s a matter of time now, but they’re doing all they can, which is seemingly more than Elektrenai ever did, to allow him as much time as they can. They took him to Vilnius and accepted that he’s not “all fine, talking, laughing with the nurses” after around 5th day of him not being able to hold down any food at all. And so I pray, I hope, I wish, that he’s at least on meds enough now not to feel the pain he was in for months, all while his vitals, blood pressure and such, were good, and therefore nobody besides his immediate family gave a damn.
I myself am preparing for the worst, because now everything falls on me. My mother, our home, even my older sister, they’re all on me. Together with what hospital bills there might be, the trips to Vilnius that we are taking sparingly, because 50km by bus is both a bit pricey and dangerous what with pandemic still being active. And the future funeral.
Some of you know me already, and know what hell I’ve gone through already. Please know right now I’m entering another circle of it. Maybe the last one, one can only hope. And so I beg of you, if anyone can help somehow, be it money or advice, a share or a kind word, any and all would be appreciated beyond what I can put into words. I’m numb from the pain that comes from the very core of a child’s soul when one is losing a parent, when one knows they can do nothing to save this parent. Whatever he was, however he was, he deserved better than this.
Don’t feel obliged, but if you got something to spare, both I and my mother would appreciate it

So, that quarantine

Yes, I absolutely did abandon my quarantine updates, as I do so many things. But I promise you, there’ll be a time when I won’t forget, when I’ll have things to say, when I’ll feel up to it, and when I’ll just stick to what I plan.

So instead, here’s an End-of-Quarantine update (which shouldn’t mean we can go loose and wild, just saying, if ever, now’s the time to be cautious and careful)

During quarantine I managed to overstress both my body and mind, and am currently suffering through it with a pack of painkillers and cool water. But let’s start with the great stuff, yes?

I’ve earned three certificates, and finished about three more courses without getting a certificate (due to them not offering free ones, only audits). Am now master in absolute basics of Cloud Computing, AWS Machine Learning, and Chinese for Beginners. That last one really made me happy to study, it’s a coursera course, and I highly recommend it.

Made many commissions, and even more landscape paintings. Well, mostly drawings, they need coloring still, but I’m very proud of taking this up, since that was always a great dream of mine.

Natures Path 2 resize

Got to play Saints Row the Third: Remastered, and it was amazing. The only flaw being the fact that co-op friend’s skin never loads, and so your mate is always a ken doll, smooth and featureless. Creepy as hell. But those games are bomb. Can’t wait for remaster of the second game. Or fourth. Or any really.

SRTTR 2020-06-18 22-31-51-46

And the bad then…

The bad is very bad. Father’s health declined to a point where he’s not over a week in hospital. There’s very many things failing, and I’m really worried.

Due to stress, something in my left side is hurting so bad I can’t go a day without painkillers. The day I woke up with this pain it was so intense I really thought something ruptured.

Mum’s two teeth are hurting very bad too, and she was trying to hide this fact (because we’ve no money for a dentist, but she knew I’d try to get more work or ask for help from someone), but couldn’t bear it, and so I did what I had to do and went to ask for extra work at my work, and what help I could ask from anyone else. Not having much luck, but she got two temporary medicine fillers until we can go farther.

So the quarantine is ending with a bang for me. But it wasn’t all bad, not at all!

What about yours? What did you do? Giving yourself a break is good too!

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log | food for stomach

You know the saying “food for soul“? Well, when your stomach fails so hard that you wake up in panic due to extreme pain that is so strange, sudden and impossible, you’re left baffled by what’s happening and whether you need to go to the ER, like right now, the food becomes purely for stomach.

After five days of very difficult recovery that isn’t done yet, with dry bread and water, for I couldn’t even drink tea, I have made an executive decision to lessen the amount of ramen I have per week, and maybe dust off that Elder Scrolls Cook Book that I have too. (friends, this absolutely does not mean I don’t want to try those new instant ramens you find)

I began cooking proper just yesterday, but it was today that I made something more interesting than boiled and then pan-fried noodles, which were good, don’t get me wrong. I made S’jirra’s Famous Potato Bread! And it was pretty good.

potato elder scrolls official cook book

Due to possible copyrighted material, I will not give you the recipe, but the idea is simple: boiled mushed potatoes, butter, egg, flour to thicken it, and spices. I don’t yet have the official spices mixed, so used my own, and skipped salt.

As my first attempt, I dare say it turned out really good. Made way too much of the dough, so majority of it now sits in the freezer. The potato-bread itself was very yummy, potato-y and yet bread-y, so I think it would totally do with some fish toppings or other strong flavored, creamy, rich foods. But I am not yet well enough to try any of that.

Please wish me good health.

thank you!