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I’ve never tried anything Columbian,
Ah, bananas, I forgot to mention.
I don’t need protection but rather a resurrection,
I had some education, though only a smidgeon,
I dislike raptors, but I did have a pigeon,
At my age, they say I am antediluvian,
One’s body & mind go into bifurcation,
Old age is full of exacerbation and aeonian,
Daily activities all have a limitation,
You should see the amount of my medication!
An hour goes by, seeming like a second…
An hour to complete a bifurcation,
Confusion, indecision, apprehension,
You’ll face failure, incapability & denigration,
Just washing, & dressing takes you an aeon,
You’ll gradually lose contact with your cerebrum,
You’ll regularly visit the audiologist and optician,
Have a catheter fitted by a urologist surgeon,
Cataracts, Glaucoma, lasered by a chirurgeon,
Duodenal ulcers, strokes… prepare for perdition,
Arthritis, cramps, & have an amputation,
Dementia, a stroke, seizures, disequilibrium,
Peripheral Neuropathy joins the equation,
FND, deafness, drives you to declension…
There’s no stopping your deterioration,
So, best prepare for things like decession,
You’ll jerk and shake due to denervation,
You’ll not find time for any deliberation,
Your ailments make up a large compendium,
You’ll be prone to effutiation & equivocation,
There’s no solution available, no criterion,
No help, understanding or appreciation,
Mind & body, no communication or association,
If, like me, alone things may seem stygian,
Advice I give without tergiversation…
Best to accept your worsening tabefaction,
After your ultimate ultimation…
Please don’t expect anything utopian,
St Peter will do the investigation…
To decide heaven or hell, without vacillation,
Don’t moan about you being a valetudinarian,
For your sins, don’t expect vindication,
Don’t speak of things with witwanton…
In hell, things can’t be more woebegone,
As they were on earth, you just came from!
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It’s not too bad a day, really. I may regret saying that later! There is no time for too much tonight. It’s another busy day, but I don’t mind because the Anne Gyna stabbings were far less frequent this Wednesday. No, wrong again. They were less frequent than they were on Wednesday. I think I do.
I’m getting tired already. (19:32hrs) I’m just starting this blog. Worralife!
I’ve lost the notepad, so things may be even more out of time sync than usual.

Got up at 04:15. After a six-hour kip! Yea! One page of the notepad I found. Why all the other pages were torn off leaves me blank? Nowt, new there, then!

Ablutions and medicationings achieved. No cuts shaving.

First view shot from the kitchen.

Boy, did the seizures make up for yesterday. I lost about three hours, during which I continued typing away, and when things came back, it took me two hours to correct them. All being broken by being interrupted, and harder to get back into as the mini-seizures returned. I do not usually carry on doing anything when these arrive, just sit staring blankly, they tell me.

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived and fitted me with diabetic socks and medications, and we had a little mini natter.

The carer also coded the night bag contents.

Back on the blog for about three hours, and my beloved Nrse Hristina arrived. ♥..
She took my blood, and we had a few minutes natter. I do love her so. ♥

After Hristina departed, I spent a long time doing today’s ode. Before realising I’d not finished Wednesday’s yet. Humph!

The helpful carer arrived and again assisted me. This time, he called the audio centre for me to try and make an appointment to get the hearing aid mended or replaced. They gave him one for the 2nd of April.
Akmad wrote all the details down for me to put on the calendar.
Then he called Easy-Link to see if they could transport me. I have to ring them back on Tuesday or later to confirm they have a free slot. Thank heavens for the help; without it, I’d have mixed myself and these dates and times up with my Arithmaphobia. Thanks, mate.

Ah, the handwashing of the socks I did earlier.
I hung all the diabetic socks on coathangers above the sink to drip dry.

Views of the Day
Early one.
Afternoon.
About 17:00hrs.
20:30hrs.

I was so tired out while making and prepping this decent-looking meal. And foolishly not asking the carer not to put the nocturnal catheter bag on cause I’d not made a meal yet. This means I was doddering around with Four-Pronged-Waking Stick Willie and carrying the night bag while trying to prepare the meal. Not easy. I don’t know what went wrong with the chips, but they were awful! I couldn’t find a use-by-date on the bag, but maybe they were outdated. I can’t remember even buying them.
The Franks were passable. The cheesy cobs were dry and tasteless, even when I added some Marmite. The Heinz tomato sauce with pickle had certainly, unquestionably gone off! Eurgh!
The mandarins in orange jelly were great!
The night’s sleep had multiple problems again.
I’ll relate these in tomorrow’s blog. (Hopefully, if I do not forget, but I don’t think I will—forget) Suffice it to say that I woke up in a terrible state. 

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Keep well, & have a stroke of luck! (Good Luck)
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