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– – Not an Ode really, just a chinwag – –

Inchy: You made a meal of that last hospital stay, didn’t you?
Inchie: Wot do yer mean?
Inchy:: Three weeks of bed baths, heart failure, broken bones in your wrist, hand and knee… threatened to nobble another patient, had to be constrained by the orthopaedic staff…
Inchie: Hang on, hang on, gimme a chance to answer…
Inchy: Go on then, answer!
Inchie: Forgot the first question now…
Inchy: You pillock! Bed baths!
Inchie: Oh, yeah, the bed baths; Years ago they would have been a pleasure, but not nowadays…
Inchy: Why’s that then?
Inchie: You have to ask? You’ve been in my brain for 82 years, and you haven’t noticed that I had bladder and prostate cancer? Can’t sire a child, or even have sex with the bloody catheter on or off?
Inchy: Well, it gave me some pleasure to get you upset and remind you of your lousy luck & inabilities —it’s my only pleasure! Sorry old chap, I can’t help it… It brought me some pleasure to upset you and remind you of your bad luck and shortcomings. Your fault, I suppose. Inchie: The neurologist suggested it could be due to schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders: That you are in my head; Neurological conditions: Dementia…
Inchy: Ah, you’ve got peripheral neuropathy, pre-morbid Cognitive Impairment, and you’re as depressed as a crocodile when the Great Wildebeest Migration fail to turn up for a drink…
Inchie: You’re doing it again! Having a go at me!
Inchy: No more than when you start self-lambasting in your sleep!
Inchie: Oh, you know about that then?
Inchy: I probably know more about you than you do!
Inchie: How?
Inchy: I’ve not got Early Diabetic Dementia, Cognitive Impairment, or a memory as much use as a cullinder to hold water, you have!
Inchie: Oh! I see…
Inchy: You don’t see very well, though, do you? Cause your cataract operation failed, and now you’re on yet another NHS waiting list, to have your Gladys Glaucoma-fogged eyes lasered…
Inchie: Erm…
Inchy: Don’t interrupt!
Inchie: Sorry!
Inchy: This brings me back to the Wilderbeast migrating for water, to you see the connection?
Inchie: Erm… no…
Inchy: Hydrocephalus; water on the brain! The buildup of excess cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) in the brain puts pressure on your brain tissue. Symptoms include headaches, nausea, vomiting, vision problems (you?), difficulty walking (you?), and cognitive changes like confusion (you?) or dementia (you?). Struth, you were told about it in hospital, can you not recall it?
Inchie: I clearly recall someone telling me they had diagnosed heart failure… that I’d been in surgery, but I can’t recall being in surgery.
Inchy: I was just about to get to that! I reckon it shocked you, that’s why you forgot about the Hydrocephalus?
Inchie: No, I haven’t forgotten about it, actually…
Inchy: You little fibber!
Inchie: Crog-off! (Stamping foot – which set off pain from the knee joint and Cartilage Chloe)
Inchy: Hehehe! You’re so teasable, provokable and trollable!
Inchie: No, I’m not… whatever trollable means!
Inchy: Do you mean to tell me that you went into heart failure in the hospital, and cannot remember anything about any procedure, treatment or actions taken?
Inchie: Yes.
Inchy: Liar!
Inchie: No, it’s true, mate. The previous 3 days in there, the blood test went down so much. The blood oxygen saturation (\(SpO_{2}\)) went down from the previous days’ average of 92 to a low of 19! The pulse rate (PR\(SpO_{2}\) down from 69 to 15. A nurse wrote the figures for me to show my Doctor next time I see her. 
Inchy: You got to see your NHS Doctor? Now I know you’re speaking with a Keir Starmer forked tongue!
Inchie: I didn’t say I got an appointment, did I?
Inchy: Well, no, I suppose not…
Inchie: You are a conclusion jumper-tooerer!
Inchy: Go on then, tell me about it…
Inchie: Carer Ejaz tried to ring the surgery on several occasions after I waited for 4 hours for the lift to get me home from the hospital; He rang repeatedly on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday & Friday. When I or a Carer phones the surgery now, we are put through to an assessor, who decides if an appointment is necessary for the caller. After waiting to listen to music and medical advice that has nothing to do with your problem, and being told, as Ejax was a Wednesday, you are caller number 19 in the queue! When he got down to ‘You are now number 3 in the queue, ‘the line went dead!’ A fortnight later, after many more frustrating failures, Ejaz got to talk to a receptionist, not an adjudicator or AI. She advised him that the nearest Wednesday with a space for you is Wednesday, 19th November! However, they had some news to hand him. The Covid and Flu jabs are no longer done at home; we have to book an appointment with a chemist ASAP. We gave up!
Inchy: Do you know, I’m leaving you now, with a promise to give you a break and a little peace. I feel so guilty about badgering you!
Inchie: I don’t believe you!
Inchy: No, you’re right, see you tomorrow!
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Woke up feeling properly poorly, well, not so good. I think I’d had a seizure in my sleep, because the moment I returned to ersatz semiconscious life, the upflowing acidic-tasting whatever it was shot up into my throat, then mouth. I’d not moved physically at all, yet felt so dizzy I thought I was going to go over, even though there was nowhere to fall to. It can be like this sometimes. I knew, Gawd knows how, that my balance was going to be a problem, with the dizziness and semi-confusion of my brain. That was a silly thing to bother telling you; that is pretty-near to usual and normal for me. Hahaha!

I’ve not been up to much most of the day, but am perking up a little now – I even had a visit from a while ago (17:15hrs), he’s still with me twenty minutes later. Jolly Good!

I took these snaps of the morning view from the kitchenette. Later, I couldn’t find the Kodak Tim 2 camera anywhere! I’m losing so many things; had it not been for the Carers, I’d have lost the TV remote twice, my watch, my diabetes and dementia badges, my reading glasses, and on three occasions, my keys. All this last week. I expected things would get worse, but this habit of misplacing or losing things is still painful to accept. With the Carer’s help, I eventually found them, but not the Kodak.

However, I did make a late start on this blog, cause I wasn’t up to it earlier; so little on it, I’m afraid. So, less of the usual dollop of uninteresting stuff.

Just finished the Ode that isn’t an Ode above.
I enjoyed doing this one.

Dumbfounding!
CorelDraw has crashed! Bloody glad I got the graphics done first.

I was about to turn it all off and on again, in hopes of self-correction, and I was hastily summoned to the Porcelain Throne. 
A marathon of marathons session.
The second long one this week, but this one was more persistent, and came with regular colouring!

No luck with CorelDraw,

However, WordPress also confused me, which is nothing new, of course. Many readers will have suffered various quirks, idiosyncrasies, irregularities, kinks, and oddities, I’m sure. My problem was losing my concentration, and things I used to handle almost with ease now baffle me. 
I tried for ages to get the Hepta font, which I’m using in the editor. Trouble with my short-term memory, and I cannot recall how I got it a few years ago.
But the Hepta semi-bold font is ideal, cause Glaucoma Gladys can read it easier. 
But after thinking I’d got it going, only the medium one showed on the editor and review page.
As I chirped up a bit, I tried again to change them in the editor. I thought I was doing what I had done before, but then found another option for changing the default font that didn’t have any Hepta options. I dug deeper and found that if I left the Default option on and clicked the square next to it, I could choose default Semi-bold and try it. Now I see semi-bold on this editor as I write, and also on the review page. Have I cracked it?
Hang on, I’ll check that again.
Dragknuckles and Megarollicks!
The preview showed a different font! I pressed F5, and it showed as Hepta. Do you think I’m too old to ever get something right again? Ejaz came as I was trying to figure out where the blood was coming from while I was shaving. It was pouring down my neck, but the tissues plonked on my head showed no red stuff. Ejaz to the rescue again.
He spotted that I’d cut the tab on my earhole. He got the plasters and put one on for me, bless him. He’s a good lad to me. I was under the impression that Ejaz had arrived a little late, so I asked him if he was alright. He took a snap of it. After he’s gone, I realised my cock-up again. One I’ve made, I think, for the last three years at least..I’d forgotten the clocks went back last night! I shall apologise on his next call. What a twit – I’m beginning to worry about my wayward ways with my memory, loss of balance, taking three hospitalised tumbles this year (up to now), Dizzy spells, Arithmaphobia, and the mounting medical appointments that I can’t get a lift to. The Dentist, the Diabetes Clinic, the Audiology clinic, and the neurologists at the Queen’s Medical Centre. Not to mention DVT Warfarin one.

I prepared an easy meal for myself for when Ejaz has done his next-to-last call. Vegetable curry, with Fung-Po sauce, Bovril, water chestnuts and vinegar added. Two bread cheesy-topped rolls were added.

Blogging when Carer Ejaz arrived. Health Check figures checked, Body Check, Under padding and leg straps put back on. Medications Given. He laughed when I told him I’d missed the clock change again. So did I, but still annoyed myself.

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Fare Thee All Well!
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