Robert, 21/7/12

Robert's allowed to designate the gender of his hospice nurses and I suggested he was within his rights to reapply and exclusively request an albino hermaphrodite. The planet must be searched for such a person. He's gone off his medication for anxiety the last 24 hours and was off oxygen all morning. Kumi left, he got up came out, smoked chatted,told stories, all without oxygen, then went back to bed. He says he feels cured, on the mend, it was just an infection. We agreed a miracle had happened.

Earlier I'd suggested we film a series of ."Well I've been dead for a year now." Pieces.  Got a chuckle but too much work. Binned the idea. Got Robert to make his mark on my new telescoping flyswat so that he can live on in street theatre as I carry him round in a comically intimidating instrument. He made two 'X's, I was hoping for a triple X but one must make do.

 I tried to obtain permission to download "The works of Robert" that I know must exist in a file on his computer somewhere. I was stonewalled. He could die any day but won't give up his literary stash.Musings, letters out.

He did want me to reply and replace Kumi as the keeper of his Facebook day to day stuff until I outlined some of my responses in his name. …"Robert just wanted me to tell you that he never liked you and now his energies are waning the idea of tolerating your continued correspondence is no longer mitigated by the challenge and pleasure of thinking foul insults about you behind your back."

He sleeps a lot and Kumi says he mutters. Sea shanties mainly. Sometime in the next few weeks a somali pirate   will be born.