Impurer Inchy: Thur 21st Nov 2024

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Bladder bother, being depressed,
Doreen Dementia, can’t find a dentist…
Toothache Tiffany, Glaucoma Gladys,
So many things; I’m at my dorkiest,
I wish they could be dispossessed!
And health & sanity could be repossessed!
These hopes prove I’m at my docilest…
Daftest, dottiest, dowdiest, and doziest,
This week, I’ve been badassed & bypassed,
Most things I did were faulty or circumspect,
Forgotten, digressed, at my gauchest…
I’m demoralised, this I did expect,
More emails, boxes to be ticked & checked,
Worries, more debts, am I accurst?
Life used to be zestier now, at its yuckiest,
I accept old age & not being the luckiest…
Carers, Nurses, Debt collectors visits…
Next week there cometh a psychiatrist,
But no politicians or aerobicists,
Nurse Hristina on Monday for blood extracts,
I hope my logicality & sanity soon reconnects,
My legs have shrunk at their scantiest!
He called them chicken legs, hilarious!
Often my seizure, I do not witness,
Till I see things I’ve done, what a mess!
Tim Price told me to consult a Wiccanist,
Am I a conceptualist or a hypotheticalist?
I used to be an ardent philosophist,
Can’t find my watch if it’s off my wrist,
I suppose I’m more of a paradoxist,
Undoubtedly, I’ve become a schiziest,
Also, now I’m at my sloppiest, schleppiest,
Definitely, I’m at my schlumpiest,
Indeed, at my gloomiest & grumpiest,
Five callers on Monday, each one a nurse,
£30 for toenails cut by the chiropodist,
The Carer tells me I’m a somniloquist,
Caught me asleep talking to myself in verse,
And answering myself, could it get worse?
Of course, it will. Bad luck & I coexist!
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Sorry, it’s a bit bare today.
I didn’t get this started until Saturday morning!
I had two horrible days of Dizzy Dennis and Sandra’s Seizures and made more mistakes and errors than ever before. Photos are the only reference to whatever took place.
I know a nurse was called. I can see her image now, but I have no idea what happened. The calendar shows a hospital visit appointment for next Saturday. I wrote this above with a degree of certainty, only to find I made another mistake. The appointment was to remind me about a Nottingham City Homes event, not the City Hospital. Yet the image of the nurse’s face still lingers in my mind, although I am again certain now that one did not call at all.

I must blog on Friday and Saturday, including today (Saturday). I’m bewildered. This morning, the Caregiver (I think) was concerned about what must have been my nonstop gibberish. I pray that things will get better. I do indeed feel a little more with it now. Enough to try to sort out a blog of some sort. I shall press on, forwards.

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Way-too dark.

Chicken-Legs: See all the room in these slippers.
It would be nice if the belly would shrink, too.

Morning shots

End car park at the flats.

Taken from the computer chair. Through the two balcony windows and doors.

I put the potatoes in the slow cooker. Rather, a lot of Oregano seasoning. Incidentally, I found them in the slow cooker 27 hours later, on Friday. I’d totally forgot about them! Humph!

 I think many photos were taken, but the computer did not let me file/save many of them.

I’m glad the computer granted me permission to load this one. Almost artistic with all the unseen additions to it.

Beef in black bean sauce is a ready-made meal. Air-fried frozen potatoes, chestnuts, and sliced red onions were added. The finger cut was not too bad a one.

Ah, well, better late than never, I’ll get it posted.

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I hoped I’d not have another day like Thursday,
But would I? Absobloodylutely!
What another nightmare on Friday!
It’s now a rainy, wet Saturday,
I’ve only just done this blog for Thursday!
Things have been going adversarially,
Seizures have ruled things Medically.
Various ailments are affected mentally.
Accifauxpas collaterally, but not colossally,
My coping and chin-up skills go pathetically.
Peace of mind – a much-wanted delicacy,
Maybe it’s time to stop my wordsmithery?
Each day, I seem to find a new vulnerability,
Live with constant Whoopsiedangleploppery,
I can’t get things to go right properly…
Talking to myself verbally & telepathically,
Concentration ruined by Toothache Tiffany,
I’m doing more things, sort of subconsciously,
Thoughts and actions can seem Pseudohallucinatory
For giving up, I now have a greater propensity,
I need someone to rescue, help or adopt me…
So, there are more problems now, you see…
Embarrassment makes my continuing tricky,
Was I fated for failure, fait accompli?
I’ll fight off this depression rancorously!

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Fare Thee All Well, May your day go Fine and Swell!