INCHY: Monday 4th September 2023 – Mentally intensated

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Let’s have no cheating, please… Hehehe!
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My eyes were hurting when I woke up with a jerk. Before getting the night pouch off the catheter, I’d taken two naughty, but effective strong Nurofen tablets. I keep some near the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, cringingly-beige-coloured, grotty, dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, on the Ottoman, within reach. By the time I’d got the pouch off and made a brew, the pain had eased a lot from the right eye… not the left though. I didn’t take any more naughty painkillers, cause the Carer will be here to give me some Paracetamol & Codeine. Don’t want to overdo things. I’m not saying KI wasn’t tempted to, though.
A highlight of pleasantness arrived in the form of Nurse Hristina from the DVT Anticoagulation Clinic to take some blood for INR analysis. The poor thing sounded like she had a sore throat. Bless her cotton socks. Such a lovely kind lady.
Carer Chris arrived. Eyes and medications issued. Started the blogging update, and it happened yet again, even as early as this. Carer Victor did the midday and early evening calls. The weariness and tiredness dawned, and I went off on the Ode word-finding mission that took me hours and hours. KI just couldn’t stop; the brain seemed to be blinkered?

A bad start got worserer. And yet, when I semi-recovered my grasp on things, I was so cheerful about it.
No time or instinct for taking photos, although I did take a few. Carer Victor took some of the evening sky for me. But through the balcony windows

The night pouch is nice & fullish, a good colour.

Sorted the waste bags into one.
The scratches on the wall, came from when I fell over getting the bags in position and the walking stick hit the paintwork..

Sported out some bladder-filling bottles.

A mug of Glengettie went down well.

Evening Carer Victor arrived, and eye drops and medications were done. He took these snaps through the balcony glass.

I finished the blog and sent it off.

Made up several templates, which was time-consuming, but I was pleased I got them done. A long job and I made many mistakes in doing it. No doubt I’ll find more when I use them.

Turning of now, so weary, and the flaming eye seems to get worse as the night approaches.
Back in the morning, all being well, like. Haha!

Roving Reporter Inchy (well, moving occasionally around the flat anyway), is back with this catch-up report.

Carer Victor arrived, waking me from a period of sleep, that was free of interference from . A precious rarity that, of course, they returned the instant I nodded off after getting down in the after Victor had departed.
Medications were issued, the night pouch readied, eye drops put in, and he helped me get the chips out of the oven and onto the plate for consumption. (Is that the right word?)

The chips were burnt to my favourite crispiness; well, with my shortage of teeth, they can be sucked at. Haha!Yellow tomatoes, and soy balls. Flavour-Rating: 8.2/10!

Down on the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, sickenly beige-coloured, crumb covered recliner, in search of sleep. But, it was not to be!
Made sure of that! I was getting s smidge wee’d off with this and got up to wash the food things.
Glad that I did now; the evening sky had a great hue to it. I fetched Kodak Keith and tried my best to get a decent shot of the view on offer. was bothersome. She had been all day really come to think of it, and when I was getting settled at the window, kicked off, too.

My first photographicalisationing shot came out wobbly-shaky, to say the least. But it was different if nowt else…
A never-been-known for months, determination rose from within my demented afflicted brain. I was not going to give up this time! My resolve cost me a lot of time. Getting gently wedged on the window locking block, I tried again to take a better picture… but no, it came out terrible again. So, putting some paper towels behind the block, to help keep the botherations from and to a minimum, I tried again…
Aha, that one came out betterer. For me, anyway.

Back in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold-Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
To my utter pleasure and delight, there was no interference from . I had a few mini-dreams; they were each doom-ladened, depressing, confusing themes.

TTFNski, all!