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Inchy: Haha! Yer lost yer remote control again? What a plonker, how many times is that now then?
Inchie: You pratt! yer could have given me a heart attack shouting up like that without letting me know you were here again!
Inchy: Wot you moaning abarght? Yer had one in hospital and they resuscitated yer? Hehehe, worra lark!
Inchie: Well, yer gave me such a start!
Inchy: Oh, I see, is yer depression, Darius, deep and dark?
Inchie: Yes, my concentration wanders about on the march…
Inchy: I suppose yer asked the Carers to help search?
Inchie: I did, Ejaz & Nirma searched and searched,
Inchy: I know, I saw you gerring all excited, het-up, heated,  agitated, frustrated and aggravated…
Inchie: Well, what are you asking for then?
Inchy: I love to see yer all uptight, yer heart-failure, seizures, water on the brain-baitingly stupididity and loss of memory… well, any one of these can kill yer, at the least it could make go doolally and or addlebrained!
Inchie: Last week, you said I was doolally and addlebrained? Is Dementia affecting you, too? Are you deranged?
Inchy: I’m but an alien in your brain, your inner-voice, visiting, to glean the reality of neurological damage that is undoubtedly being inflicted by an unknown perpetrator…
Inchie: Erm… can you talk in terms that are simpler?
Inchy: Although I am you, and you are me, I’m the wiser.
Inchie: The wiser what? Witch? Demon? 
Inchy: We’ve a commonality, a common denominator…
Inchie: You’re just trying to sound wise and clever!,
Inchy: I know, but who’s keeping who awake? I’m an educator, learned and clever, you’re just an old chinwagger!
Inchie: That’s a nerve to say, coming from someone who claims we are identical twins, but you are cruder!
Inchy: It’s not me who lost it, you made the clanger!
Inchie: You are me, you are you? You just said that, can you not remember?
Inchy: I’m not the one with Dementia.
Inchie: Get it right, it’s Pre-Morbid Cogniscent Impairment now, it used to be Dementia… I thought you were cleverer?
Inchy: I am your brain’s instructor.
 Inchie: I don’t see you as being a challenger…
Inchy: Challenger? I am your castigator, your failure rate investigator, and regulator!
Inchie: You’ve never helped, not even a friendly gesture…
Inchy: Ah, it seems that I’ve gotten to yer?,
Inchie: I don’t think you can help it. It’s apparent that you are a braggart and a gasconader.
Inchy: What if I told you I’m a long-stay Grim Reaper!
Inchie: Surely a Grim Reaper doesn’t have permission to be a contemptuous, censorious,  castigator? 
Inchy: If that were true, then you would be too, mucker!
Inchie: I’m losing the plot of this little natter…
Inchy: As I expected, but it doesn’t really matter…
Inchie: What do you mean, mister?
Inchy: Well, as a Soul[Tiller, who preys on the souls of those
waiting to become a departed…
Inchie: Go on, I feel the approach of a farceur…
Inchy: I know for sure that when I drag you up to Hell, you’re going to get yourself thrown out, deported!,
Inchie: Where to, Heaven? Mars, Pluto or Jupiter?
Inchy: No, none of them. To a place even worse than the inferno where Politicians will reside forever…
Inchie: I like it. 
Inchy: And now to the fiercesome, violent place where, for your sins, you’ll be sent as a forfeiture…
Inchie: Oh! Where, where… come on mucker…
Inchy: A place that’s misery-ridden, with its patricide, matricide, parricide, suicide, stabbings, shootings, murderings, wars, muggings, assassinations, massacres, and innocents get raped, kidnapped, killed and slaughtered… 
Inchie: You mean Earth, don’t you? I’m buggered!
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After hours of kip, waking me with a start, and Twitching Neck Ted started. I fumbled my way out of bed, and just about every ailment joined in making an almost dangerous trip to the hallway to press the admit button for Carer Nimra. I nearly fell over the long night pouch and had to fight againstit  .
I sensed a taste of the upcoming acidity in the mouth and nose; I assume I had a seizure when I was woken up, but no way of confirming it. I was
Amazingly out of sync this morning. But surprisingly, the dizziness eased off after a few minutes. The back pain and balance problems stayed with me all day, Hey-Ho!
Mirma was in a rush this morning, not that it mattered, as it happens, cause no point in doing a body check or ointmentating the knees, as I would only wash them off later when I get around to doing the ablutions. Did you note that? I realised the situation straight away because  was already weakening his grip on me. Good!

Carer Nirma issued the medications and realised I was not up to scratch, I think. She departed as I thanked her and apologised for not being properly with it. Other things must have taken place, but I’ll be blown if I can remember what.

I went on the balcony and did not dare open the windows to take these two shots, with the mist and rain out there. The first taken was straight ahead.
The end car park had only one car parked in it. They had parked on the chevrons. Not unusual.

I got on the computer and lost the plot again. Not that I’d got one really in the first place, other than a determination to get yesterday’s blog completed. When it came to using the word list, I opened one and realised it was just a template I’d made to start replacing all of the lost ones from scratch. I was morose and seemed to be getting worse, and I could smell my BO as I sat at the computer. I’d still not got the ablutions done. Oddly, I had not used the yet, either.
I strayed off target and started adding some pet words to the list. I got carried away a smidge.
Suddenly, Carer Ejaz arrived, five hours later, and all of that time I had not added anything to the blog!
When I cottoned on to what I’d done and what I hadn’t.

I stopped and went to make my first mug of tea of the day. And the phone rang. The nurse will not be coming today after all.

Ejaz came for his next call. All I’d managed to do was finish yesterday’s blog and post it. Although that’s not strictly true. Famous Inchie words here… I forgot to post it, sent out the posted today emails, and thankfully, dear Jenny emailed me to tell me nothing was showing on the blog – of course, I remembered I’d not posted it then, so I posted it. Jenny emailed back asking for the brand of the TV remote. She was going to loan it to me if it worked on my TV, bless her. I replied, thanking her. She’s been a treasure to me, and is not very well herself. 💕Lost the plot again there, thanks, Jenny.
Ejaz rang Virgin Media for me about getting a new TV remote. What a farce!
In the first two tries, he got an AI-recorded press for this and that answer, but was not put through to a real human. He got someone the third time who put him through to where he needed to go. We thought.
Then confusion reigned, but I’ll just say what I am sure happened…

We had the account number, the order number and the password that I’d written on the paperwork when I was conned into buying the package. Then the man asked for my memorable word! I can’t remember having given one. Said he would send an email through, and it came. Then a second one was sent, but we didn’t receive it. Still haven’t.
Ejaz was running late and had to give up.
Liberty Global paid $23.3 billion (or £15 billion) for Virgin Media. And set about destroying its reputation. They either own or have shares in:
Virgin Media, O2 (50% ownership), Telenet, and VodafoneZiggo (50% ownership). It also holds a 9.9% shareholding in ITV plc and a 17% ownership stake in Canal+ Poland, and other stakes in Europe.
But can you talk to them without being offered a new deal or a special offer? Without battling your way through a series of robots? No!
If you could cancel your contract, you would – but you can’t without getting a phenomenally high-cost leaving fee charge, and Liberty Global-owned Virgin Media scripted misleading verbal hogwash.
A perfect show of Oligarchism at its worst!
When Liberty Global first bought Virgin, all the telecom operators were told not to mention Liberty Global or to admit they owned the company! This fact was in the news from an operator who was dismissed and sued by the company. Oligarchy at its worst! (Or the best if you are one)
So glad I got that off my chest.
Of course, nothing has been sorted!

Meal of the day time.

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Cheers Each!
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TTFN EACH