INCHIE: Monday 27th March 2023

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Worra duff day, again!
There are still no medications or night Catheter bags delivered.
So no chance of any pain relief fro Ann Gyna; or poor Little Inchie bleeding and chaffing on the Catheter tubing. So nowt new there!
I seem to have attained a permanent state of depression this morning… well it’s well into the afternoon now… good heavens! Just looked at the one clock left working, and it’s nearly teatime… as it used to be. 17:00hrs!

Let’s have it… who stole the day?
This place is full of mystery and connivery!
Time moves without my knowledge, I say!
Little things can be so digressionary…
I washed-up last night, but I can’t find the cutlery?
My Porcelain visits indicate the onset of dysentery!
Anne Gyna, Colin Cramps, and swollen ankles all getting at me!
I’m breathing better, but I’m coughing more this Monday…
I don’t mind coughing; I’m not keen on a coffin!
All the usual traits linger on, like being dithery…
The catheter tube making Little Inchie bloody,
Should I change this blog into a shockumentary?
I’m not in good shape, physically…
But in a far worse plight mentally!

Each night I’m so tired, my eyes cloudy & bleary…
I can get off to sleep usually…
But not now, thanks to the apothecary…
No Anne Gyna tablets, Colin Cramps, painfully…
Both ensure that I sleep abortively…
Waking me in pain so often, grindingly!
In despair. Had enough, Me? Absobloodylutely!

Pretty coloured wee-wee this morning.

A little misty.
City Hospital is in there somewhere.

The trees are coming on well in the roads below…

When the petals fall in the fall, will they be messy at all?

Bootiful puffer-clouds.
I don’t think that’s the official name of them…

A few hours later…

I’ve only had one Porcelain Throne evacuation yet.
Carer Sam and Carer Jo-Anne have called.
I’ve been in and out of it again.
No medications or night Catheter bags come.
Fancy that! And it’s only been a week without the
medications & Catheter bags.
Bloody agony – but is anyone interested? Silly question!
Isn’t life good?..

The door chime chimed – it was the postman. Delivering
the camera from my cyber-buddy Tim Price. Bless him!
Cracking camera that I can carry in my pocket, if ever
I get out again, that is. I was like a kid opening the
box. I took a snap of the old Fuji with it

Then one of the new Kodak with the Fuji.

Then the first cloud photo with the new one. Smashing! Thanks, Tim!

Carer Jodie called; no medications or bags.
Helped me with text messages.

Back on the Kodak…

Gorgeous!

Flat views.

Thick veg soup with tons of flavouring.
Liquid smoke, sea salt & BBQ sauce.
Flavour rating: 6.4/10 (Can’t win ’em all!).

called. Sorted the meds… well, not them we had run out of, naturally. No night bags to use. We had a little chin-wag.

She woke me more often than MPs fiddle with their tax returns. So sleep was another farce. No sooner got down in the c1966 Charity shop bought, second-hand, whiningly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, and the kicked off. One good thing is that he gave me a break; he was of no bother at all! Not that he was needed, mind you – with no medications for her, was more than enough to guarantee me a lack of sleep again!

Cheers!