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It’s not easy being Arithmaphobical,
Worse with an infected mind, that’s illogical,
Learn to meditate, and converse with the demonical,
My Carer suggested it, I thought he was being comical,
I thought Gnosticism was a church thing, clerical…
Ejaz said no, it’s more sort of philosophical,
Ghostly communicating, transubstantiational,
What did he mean? “I’m not too intellectual…”
Getting knowledge from the dead, but spiritual,
They teach you how to be sort of resurrectable,
What’s that? “You might, can be made relivable!”,
Resurrection or anastasis may sound laughable…,
So, I set out to gain something magical,
Where to get advice from? I was already sceptical,
Ak, I’ll ask on the next visit from Grim Reaper Ethel,
In her earthly life, she worked in a brothel,
Little me, knowing it may turn out so tragical,
She said she’d send me a dead man’s soul,
It arrived the next day, a soul, but a man’s shoe sole,
An apparition appeared, & leant against the table…
He spoke German, sounded a bit glottal,
It was Wilhelm Bodewin Johann Gustav Keitel,
He’d been belatedly resurrected, & could he gabble!
I said sod off out of my dream, I want to be gnostical,
I’ll not talk to the spirit of a Nazi Fieldmarshal…
He threw a giggle, with his new eyes agoggle,
The grin turned into a smile, went gracious, genial,
I was going to shoot him in his genitals,
Telling me, “Your people will go through hierodule…
For your Herr Starmer will forever rule,
Proving he is a man-made fool and tool,
He apologised for being so hypercritical,
But Starmer is imperishable, & easily corruptible,
I don’t want to be here now, life’s ineffable, 
“Enough, I’ll cut my throat”, I shot him to save him the trouble!”
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Quick Session. Mid-morning things calmed down a bit, but early on, it was one calamity after another!
I even got myself in a muddle, trying to cope and sort things out. A terrible morning to get up late again, as it worked out. I’ll concentrate on the early duff-stuff. Or do I mean the late stuff?

Got to bed at half-past-three in the morning. Woke up at 07:00hrs. (Rings a bell that)

0712hrs: The ’Blip’ sounded from the new mobile to tell me I’d had a text message come in. I was still struggling to remove the catheter bag, and I carried it to the mobile. Reading the Ocado text message, the phone flashed red while I was still deciphering the text, to tell me that Ejaz was ringing. I dropped the bag… don’t ask me if it leaked; it’s still too painful to think about. Not only did it leak, but the tube also yanked at Little Inchies fungal lesion, and it bled a fair bit, and hurt a bit more. 
Ejaz said the lobby intercom was not working again. I was unsure whether to stop the bleeding, rescue and clean up the pouch mess, or just cry. I did neither, because I had to throw the bag off, quickly stuffing some paper towels in the PP’s, and made my way down to let Ejaz in the lobby. 
I got down to the front door, but could not see Ejaz anywhere. I hadn’t put my coat on, so I didn’t have my keys. I could not go outside to look for him, or else I wouldn’t get back inside. I gave it a minute or two, then went back up to the flat to see if Ejaz had somehow managed to get into the building and taken the lift to the flat. No! 
So I took the elevator back up to the 12th floor. 
No signs of Ejaz. I cleaned up the earlier urine mess and the pouch and then went down to the front lobby again. Still no signs of Carer Ejaz. 
Back up again to the apartment. I was pretty confused by now. Lack of sleep, Colin Cramps. The text message, the urine pouch, up and down in the lift. I got into the flat, and Ejaz was coming out of the flat to find me! It appears that we were missing each other in the lift journeys up and down. What next, I thought… Ejaz and I were saying our ‘Taras” and the Ocado order arrived. Some items were substituted. Carer Ejaz put the bags into the kitchen for me and shot off to his next client. 

I nipped into the Porcelain Throne in response to my innards. Never been known before, the first part of the evacuation was Constipation Konrad in control. Tough to pass, then followed by a Trotsky Terence splurty, liquidish, and even a different colour. Am I losing my mind here, or what? Kharki to dark brown. Honestly!  
I don’t recall taking this shot, yet I remember thinking that the white parts on the Raynaud’s Diseased toes seemed well-developed. Maybe I made another cock-up and put on a photo from another day in error. I know, I know; You can’t believe that muscular, lean, handsome, happy young man of my keen intellect and professionalism could make a mistake. I understand, I’m amazed too.  Hehehe!

Then, I got the food with the substituted products put away. Got the fresh stuff stored first, including the pork tomatoes that were substituted with beef tomatoes. The Silesian pork sausages were substituted with chicken sausages. The drinks to keep the bladder flowing. I try to keep some in the fridge in this weather and fill bottles with spring water or soda water, and bicarbonate of soda just before drinking. The refrigerator was decently loaded up. I rang my friend Jenny about the beef sausage, and she asked her husband, Frank, a wonderful neighbours. She will put them in her freezer and remind me later when I can have them back to dine on. Bless them.

I’m not sure what happened to my left wrist.
It was alright when I had my wash and shave. At least, I think it was.

Oh, and I bought a square, well, rectangular-shaped washing-up bowl from Ocado. I’ll be using it for washing my feet, with some soap, bicarbonate of soda, and Dettol.

The wheelchair I was measured for arrived today. It folded almost flat and fit in the hallway behind the four-wheeled walker chair.
I’m not to touch it until someone comes to fit it properly.
It’s going to cost me in Carers’ fees to get someone to push me about outside. If they have anyone to.
I also received a packet of Marmite Rice Cakes. Blooming tasty!
Sourdough baguettes as well. I’ll have one of these tonight. No-butter buttered, with tomatoes, sausages and potatoes. Or as Herr Starmer might say, hostages. A shot from the balcony was taken when Carer Ejaz came later in and viewed the scene . Taken in the rain, it didn’t last for long, though, just for a few minutes or so. If that long.

Ejaz noticed the leg was seemingly flaring up and was bleeding a bit again. So he cleaned it up, creamed it, and put a plaster on it for me.
It wasn’t hurting. However, it began to itch more as the night progressed.

The Carer is due any time now, last call.
I’ll start preparing the meal of the day.

Nosh.

Carer Mizra. Tired out, poor lad. He got the night back attached for me, and I had some Peptac. Nice lad.

I caught a picture of another shower as the sun was falling.
Tidied things up, computer off, and checked door, electrics and taps. I sat on the bed, pondering over how the politicians and dictators are killing life on Earth… and nodded off.

Waking up, I imagine an hour or so later, with the brain still pondering the suicide of humankind. Aware that it is coming soon, and few people seem to realise it. It is so obvious, but we can do nothing. The return of Jesus foretold is not going to save anyone, or an already dead soul.

I’m in a cheery mood this morning, or am I?
Hehehe!

🤎 TTFNski each! 🤎