A Little Chunter from Inchcock
In bad, nae, terrible rhyme!
It’s the day of the criminal, there is no more law,
Empathy, understanding have become just folklore,
I don’t see Police officers in Nottingham, anymore,
Pavement Cyclists, beggars and shoplifters galore,
Street sleepers, who survive with skills of a detrivore,
Druggies, alcoholics, muggers, both old and mature,
While families dine, smoke cigars and drink their liquor,
All the time, making the poor, feel even sicker!
Disabled with Fit for Work Assessments, have to fight and bicker,
A blind chap got told he can work on a cherry-picker!
Jobseekers told to do psychometric tests, Glory Be!
But if you’re lucky, you’ll live to retire just like me,
But it isn’t what you thought, no rest and freedom, see,
Heart attack, Duodenal Ulcer, and I live on the twelfth-floor,
Peripheral Neuralgia, then a stroke and Arthritis, core!
What next I thought, and the lock broke on the door,
It was mended within three weeks, no need to be sore,
My hot water system went down, so I called help once more,
After nine days of being lied to, ‘We are coming today for sure,
Staying in and awake eight-until-ten, no chance of a bedsore!
But they mended it! It leaked, my clothes wet, the water did pour!
I slipped on the liquid, ending up injured on the floor,
Luckily, the stroke nurse called, so help came to the fore,
Depression and self-hating I began to explore,
I complained at the lack of help, this just caused a furore!
Now the haemorrhoids have returned, bloody and sore!
I fank You!
Off to the wet room, and faffled about a bit panicky, to free Little Inchy in time… The trickle was over in seconds! Ah, now I’m back to the INHBT (I-needn’t-have-bothered-trickling) mode! Yet yesterday morning, I had jets oozing out? Ah-well, at least it was blood and pain-free. 
I got the tea and medications to the computer and started to update the diary. 
e won. The shower head was not dropped once! Mind you, I didn’t have a shower, but a stand-up wash. Hahaha! Go on, have a laugh! The toothpaste and brush were handles with a certain dexterity, that has not been present for a long, long time! (Things changed later, Tsk!)
Serious Point, or Fault I’ve found in me after the stroke: When something new arises, that is of concern of any sort, lost item, forgotten arrangement, something breaks down or fails to work, since the stroke, I get fixated on trying to correct, amend or find out why things have happened. Whatever I was doing at the time of realising the worry or problem, fades into oblivion, the new problematical issue, taking over priority in the brain. This often annoys people who are incapable of understanding my situation, as it must seem to them, that I am ignorant! As soon as the new issue is sorted (if it is), I start to panic over the forgotten earlier difficulty or task not being done again. I have mentioned this to the Speech Therapist lady, who said she would try to get me to see someone who might help me. Being aware of this strait causes self-hatred for doing it, but does not offer any solution in itself. Then the depression at my own actions and inabilities arrives.
small rice cooker, from Amazon.
I got Josie’s nosh prepared. Smoked haddock, cheesy-potatoes, tuna, gherkins, beetroot, mushy peas, mushrooms and tomatoes, with a gin & tonic and limoncello dessert. Delivered it to her door, had a quick few words and back to make my dinner. Cheesy potatoes, beetroot, gherkins, tomatoes, smoked haddock, mushy peas, mushrooms… Yes, almost a carbon copy of 
Josie’s. I had some fresh orange juice and an apple for afters though.
I dropped the washing up bottle, that needed the floor cleaning and making safe again. Various pieces of cutlery, some back into the bowl, others on the floor. The washing-up brush made several trips out of the hand! But I got it done. 