Inchy Today: Saturday 29th March 2025

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Seizures increased – Falls decreased!
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ODE WRITTEN MIDST MULTI-SEIZURES
I’m awaiting my next seizure, unobjectively,
Hoping for a mini-one, prejudicially,
But to me, even more essentially…
Depression’s bothersome, fundamentally,
The crux of the matter, that drives me potty,
It can be instant or come on accretionally,
The reason & cure leave me in abstrusity,
I get the feeling of being blameworthy,
Self-hating, ashamed, definitely guilty!
>>>>><<<<<
I can last for minutes or a marathon,
My neurotransmission can worsen,
They’re in the hands of the neurosurgeon,
But who can help with my depression?
Or is that too hopeful or a silly question?
I’m developing self-opprobrium,
Life’s a struggle, a daily ordalian,
Depression hits, I change into a chameleon,
Into a terrible bellyacher, curmudgeon!
>>>>><<<<<
Depression Duncan brings inner-anger,
He’s a sulking, self-pity, inferiority inflictor,
A mind-impinger, thought blocker…
A Peace, rest, concentration inhibitor,
I can’t help but to feel I’m inferior,
Depression Duncan, so frustrating… Grrr!
Comes & goes at his leisure…
No reason or logic whatever,
I’ll not be free of him until I pass over!
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Will Duncan still be with me (shiver)?
That’s the first thing that I’ll inquire,
When I’m interrogated by St Peter?
I hope not; I don’t know the answer,
It’s peace that I need to acquire,,
I’ll cope with Anne Gyna & PN Peter.
Not Depression Duncan’s hellfire!
Death for me has just one bother…
Will I go to Hell with Starmer?
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After five hours of waking up from broken sleep, I nodded back off for another full hour. I woke up with depression—Duncan in full flow. It took a few hours for him to give up getting at me. When I rang Sister Jane about the Nottingham Forest Cup Match being on BBC 1, I realised he had gone.
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After over an hour of Ccleaning, deleting photos and graphics, the computer allowed me to save what I’d done on CorelDRAW and pictures from earlier. I came across this snap of a meal—with grading already done. Fair enough. I’m not precisely sure what day it was from because when I deleted the photos to make space, I got in a tangle timewise with them. I think it was yesterday or thereabouts. It was almost certainly taken this year.
I remember not cooking the lamburgers anywhere near enough, but thought I had, but no. I’m beginning to feel it was last night now, but…

The clock calendar was changed; better late than never. Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed.

Messy!

Again, but only for a couple of hours, after the Carer’s firsr visit, Duncan departed, and took over for an hour, or so, until once more and profound depths of misery and an uncontrollabe irascibility, self-petulance and testiness, were suffered. Deeper than yesterday’s, I think. But then, how would I know in my state?
Care Joe removed the dressing from the right knee’s wound and then put a fresh one on for me. It’d been leaking thinned blood(lymph fluid, I assume). I’ll inform the district nurses on Monday. Why does this always start on a Saturday?

After the Carer’s second call, I took snaps of the view from the kitchenette window.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching the balcony
To the left, with darker clouds

Not well, bleeding and seizure have really kicked off.
I’ll do a catch-up, hopefully tomorrow.
I’ll call for help now.
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TTFN
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