What to Do?

Damn it! I spent a lot of time late this afternoon and into the earliest evening rounding up the documentation that I would need to file the 2024 tax returns online (via the free GenuTax software) for my wife and I, only to discover that I have no trace of the charitable donation receipt for last year from Plan International Canada.

Now I have to wait for them to respond to my enquiry. An automated message said replies could take two to three business days.

In other news, I was quite sure that when I went to bed last evening, my wife was likely home and busy in the kitchen following her long workday at the Thai restaurant where she is employed part-time. If it was indeed she busy in the kitchen, I have no doubt that she was simmering with annoyance at my dense, drunken younger brother and his girlfriend Bev sitting in the living room with the television blaring to accommodate Bev's limited hearing (that only seems to worsen the drunker she gets on her white wine).

I wanted no involvement with my brother; and my damaged right knee is too troublesome on the nine or so steps of the stairway leading from upstairs to the living room and kitchen areas, so I had absolutely no inclination to subject myself to the trip down and then back upstairs again. If my wife sensed that I was still up and merely behind my closed bedroom door, she was welcome to seek me out.

I nursed notions of getting out early this morning to have my knee assessed, but I slept too illy. My resolve was too feeble. I would have needed to rise before daylight to psyche myself up for the ordeal, but I just could not put myself through that ─ I only desired to remain abed and garnering as much more sleep as I could.

I think that it must have been nigh 8:30 a.m. before I did rise.

Before getting out of bed, though, I challenged my 'fresh' bad knee to see if I could possibly even begin to elevate my lower leg, and I actually was able to raise the heel of my foot from the bed by a couple or so inches. But my lower leg was fairly angled downward and not anywhere near straight; and the knee objected with the strain with unwelcome pain.

Consequently I do suspect that I likely require surgery; but I would love to have a doctor knowledgeable of knee injury to stress that surgery might NOT be necessary, and I only required time, patience, and applied effort at working the knee.

I am perfectly willing to endure the physical pain of such effort; but I damned well do not want to be forcing it upon myself if I actually require surgery and would only be aggravating whatever is wrong by forcing such challenges to my knee.

So if I can sleep better tonight, I will rise around 5 a.m. to gradually prepare for a four-block walk to a nearby medical clinic that opens at 7 a.m. I abhor the prospect of being out afoot in the daytime, so making that visit any later is just psychologically untenable. It will be bad enough just having to walk back home.

Visiting the clinic later ─ as in being given a ride there by my brother, for instance ─ would probably subject me to a far larger population of other waiting patients than would be the case by arriving at 7 a.m. when it opened.

And my brother has just arrived home from his daily social drinking ─ he came into the house at 7:10 p.m. or so.

Anyway, if a doctor gives confirmation in his professional opinion that I require surgery, then of course my next hurdle will be the return to Surrey Memorial. The prospect of having to duplicate the 14 or so hours (could it even be 15 hours?) that I spent there after getting to the emergency section around eight hours after my accident early Saturday, March 1st, is dreadfully off-putting. I was not even examined by a doctor for possibly at least 13 hours ─ and that was when I was at my clear worst!

I don't know what stupidity my brother engaged last evening / night before properly going to bed, but he never emerged from his bedroom this morning until well beyond 9 a.m., by which time I had possession of the T.V. and had our Android TV Box set to go.

I led off with a 14-minute video uploaded yesterday to YouTube's AnitaK channel: Congratulations Mr. Burns aka Mark Carney on your Coronation.

Then it was a long (1:27:59 ─ but I jumped through the pointless opening and all of the commercials) video streamed yesterday to Rumble's Sarah Westall channel: Vatican Translator: “These are the Most Impactful Mistranslations in the Bible” w/ Mauro Biglino.

Famous Vatican translator, Mauro Biglino, returns to the program to share some of the most impactful mistranslations in the bible. Biglino is one of the few translators in the world that know ancient transcript enabling him to accurately translate ancient text. Thus, Biglino has translated 17 manuscripts for the Vatican. You can learn more about his work or buy his books and learn for yourself at https://MauroBiglino.com

I think that even my brother found the interview better than either of us initially expected. However, Mauro does seem to do more speculating on his translations than I feel are Biblically sound. He is approaching into the realm of the 1970 documentary movie Chariots of the Gods; and even back then I regarded its speculations as garbage.

The final video I tuned in was probably not half watched by noon at which time my brother broke from it because he wanted to begin readying for a 1 p.m. haircut appointment.

The video was even longer (1:47:25) that the previous one, and had been published yesterday to Rumble's Real Truth Real News channel: 🎙️ 📢 Dr. David Martin Speaks on the Covid Injections at the 'National Citizens' Inquiry Hearings Held in Edmonton, Alberta March 6/2025.

The description is too involved for me to care to reproduce it here, so refer to it at the link if interested. Suffice to say, I expect that we will continue with watching the remainder of the video tomorrow morning. 

I have to bring this post to a close, so I want to report that my wife had another full workday today, rising nigh 9:45 a.m. and showering, yet still managing to be on her long drive fairly soon after 10 a.m. However, she had nothing to say to my brother and I except her "Bye" as she quickly headed for the front door.

And now at 9:15 p.m., it appears that my brother is receptive to my evening company, so I am going to quit this post and hope I can avoid staying up too late.