Inchie: Monday 1st December 2025

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06:10hrs, woke up. Pouch off in great haste, and off to the Porcelain Throne; walking into the door frame en route, while scrambling to take off the nightdress in time, before the anticipated involuntary start of the rear end motion, flowed. I DIDN’T MAKE IT IN TIME. 
As almost expected, sent me into the frame as I sat down as Trotsky Terence’s torrent evacuated in AI mode. ‘Huh!’
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Unease, discomfiture, shame, humiliation, frustration and near-mortification joined in with me swearing as I self-lambasted and verbally groaned at the ego-sinking predicament I now found myself in! 
I’m not sure if it was in sympathy or taking-the-piss mode, but kicked off as I stood up to assess the mess and the damage I’d done to the wet room floor, its accoutrements and myself in the part-tumble. But Shirley seemed intent on yanking the glenohumeral-shoulder ball out of its socket! I’m sure she’ll manage it one day. I hope not!
I had to wait for her onslaught to die down before I could do anything. I did have a nearly empty tube of the pain gel in the wet room on the floor cabinet, which I’d knocked off of the cabinet along with several other items. Olive oil dropper, eye drops, Germoloid & Germolene ointments, amongst others. I was amazed at how little time it seemed to me to pick everything up, get the antiseptic mop out, use it, and rub some porphain gel on the shoulder. In a really short time?

I did realise what had taken place afterwards. It was mt anger at myself that enabled me to get things done so quickly, I reckon. All that genuflecting needed to clean things up, and then I had to cope with   and giving me some stick. Still, at least had stopped.

As I left the wet room, a Carer came in… I’ve been asked not to mention Carers’ names on my blog, or to use any photos, and to remove those I’ve used in the past. So I did and will not.
The Carer was a smidge concerned at my het-up state. I didn’t mention the wet room incident, and I think I got away with it by using Dettol and a fresh air spray after the clean-up. She sorted the medications and made a brew of tea for me after getting me to sit down and settle. Helped with the HC checks and monitored the  Excel sheet. I’d not made any errors this time. 👍🏼
The Carer took the waste bags with her to the chute as she departed with my thanks.
I turned down her offer of Phorpaining, as I’d only wash it off later when I get around to doing my ablutions. If I do get around to them, that is, of course, reliant on and how the seizures affect me and if they will be calmer and less frequent today. (Please may it be so!)
I’m not sure why, let’s face it, whenever I am? But for some reason, Depression Darius has not visited me yet. I give him the two fingers on my graphic here to two of my ailments. 
Coping well with this?

It would still be nice… no, delightful to have a call from . He’s been a little shy lately. I hope I haven’t upset him. Hehehe!

Oh, I missed this snap off earlier. Better late than never. Poignantly, it’s the same with my mate High Mood Horis’s absence.
I’m afraid.

Carers’ second call, no names, but a man. Medications given – no gelling as I’m going to try again to get my daily done.

I finished my now-gone-cold tea, put the computer to sleep, and off I went back to the wet room. Somewhat nervously, after my last visit, Haha!
Change my mind; I’d better get the clothes I’m wearing washed first. Mid washing the khagoule, the door chime rang. It was a postman with a delivery. He was cheery and laughed as he departed. I put it in the kitchen and got on with the washing. Hanging it in the wetroom up on the shower rail…
And the door chime chimed again. This was via DHL They left a box outside the door. Put that in the kitchen and finished hanging up the Khagoule, when I realised that I’d taken the first box from the postman without any clothes on! That’s me without any clothes on, not the postman! Now, I realise what he must have been laughing at… Say, no more! Well, it could have been my catheter bag contraption, or maybe Shower-Cover, or my flabby elephantine body that tickled him? But my guess is that it must have been Little Inchie with blood leaking from the pouch tube inserted… Hehehe!

It seems to have been hours since I set out to get my done. At long last, the interruptions stopped, and I finished hanging the Khagoule. I have to say that this session went well… no, I’m not joking, this wet room session was one of the best for months. I’ll tell you why, shall I? My body scrub was incident-free and cushty! I cut my ginger nails without a single sign of blood! Hoverwaxed both earholes without any sign of blood! Barrier creamed the areas I could reach, Phorpaingels the knees, Cartilages and where I could get to on my back. Am I now beginning to sound smug? It gets better! I got the drops in the left eye without any running down my cheek & into my mouth. Fair enough, the right eye did not go too well, Cor, the taste of those eye drops! Hamorrhoid Harold was medicated, with again, no bleeding!
A couple of slight mishaps rocked the smooth ride, though. I dropped a razor and had the picker-upperer to retrieve it, but it was in a tight corner behind the cistern, and getting my good eye on its exact location was difficult. I ended up picking what I thought was the disposable razor and grabbed it. It was an open pack of blades that I hadn’t used for years. And still I can’t get any help with the cleaning!

I eventually got the Hoover out to touch up the carpet… this would be at an estimate, about 15:00hrs.
50 minutes later, I found the power charger and plugged it in. I’ll hoover the carpet in the morning then. But, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft agley” Poem by Rabbi Burns – 1785. Original text

Getting dark early nowadays, then again, it always does when winter arrives. It’ll be worse for us pensioners now that Starmer has stolen our winter fuel allowance. A filthy-shitty, uncaring, nasty, pseudo PM, the uncaring Right-Wing decision from our back-hander taking, lying ex barrister… his father was a toolmaker, did you know? I’d much appreciate it if he died as painfully and as quickly as possible. I love to be alive to celebrate his passing. That would be a rare blessing for me. I wish I could yodel at his funeral. I think I’ll get the lyrics done, just in case he does do the honourable thing and tops himself. I believe I got carried away again there… sorry.

A very welcome late visit from Horis! He didn’t stay long. But it was Heaven while he did!

FOOD!

Bombay potatoes tonight!
I tasted them, and they were a smidgen too hot for me. So, I added some Gun-Po sauce, stirred, and reheated it. Grrreat!

May many Fairies from fantasyland…
Bring you peace, and a Magic wand!
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