Day: 23 December 2025

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I loosened up with ten minutes of shadow boxing, 200 press-ups, and 100 toe touches. Then onto 50x100kg snatches, 120x25kg bicep curls, 150 squats, 120x40kg bench presses, 100x55kg deadlifts, 100x22kg bicep curls each arm, 100x80kg Clean & Jerks, and 80x55kg lunges. Then ran down and back up the 24 flights of stairs in the complex. I skipped the medicine ball exercises cause I’ve got a verruca. Hehehe!
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07:00hrs: Up, unsteady, indeed wobbly. Washing the pots from last night.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He did a good job of sorting me out, bless him. Medications, body check: lower back was Phorpain-gelled. I remembered to give him the new Warfarin dosages sheet.

Finished the pots and brewed. Decent snap of the flat’s front car park area.
What’s that I see?
Three Free Spaces?
Ah, Christmas shopping?
An acute shortage of Christmas lights on show this morning. There’ll be a reason for this, oh, yes. But I’ve no idea what it is.

Then got the computer on and faced the challenge of keeping concentration (awful yesterday and this morning). Hope the vision stays as it is and doesn’t get worse, like it has been doing the more tired I get.

Started to update the Sunday blog. Struggled with it, and kept wandering off what I was doing and getting lost mentally. I hope the neurosurgeon is going to see me soon, so I can explain things to him… well, problems to him. Like losing all the photos the other day, but two were there, but what happened to the other twelve remains another mystery from Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Dank Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhoea Leslie, Dark, Dank, Depression Darius, or the Fata Morgana, hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Sandra’s Seizures, and Whoopsiedangleplops, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. Just thought I’d mention it.

Due to and Connie, the blogging went so slowly today. And of course,  and were in support, to ensure a most uncomfortable, aggravating, endless series of cock-ups and mistakes costing me so much time. Huh!

Checked the potatoes in the crock-pot. Made a brew of tea. I plan to have Bombay Potatoes with added spuds cooked separately today. But the best-laid plans of mice and men this time didn’t work out. Nice and firm when I put them in the slow cooker, the skins had burst open – not an easy thing to do in a crock-pot on a low heat. But I did it. Tsk!

Then the NHS outside-hired Carer came to take the Warfarin INR blood. Good job. 

I’m so tired, the vision dimming and blurring, I was still having a feast of fun, frantically pain-giving, fully supported by , who had decided to give me a change tonight, and is coming on for short violent bursts of activity, leaving me in peace, then back again to the point where I got all-annoyed like never before. I kept having words with Shirl. It made no difference.

Carer Mizra made the evening call. Phorpaining, evening medications and again I forgot to ask him to change the catheter bag, a week overdue now. 

The Doctor (from the surgery) phoned to ask if a Carer was here. I said he would be in about 15 minutes. The lady said she would ring back.

Ejaz arrived, medications sorted. But could not wait for the callback; otherwise, he would be in trouble with his boss for taking too long on the call.
The receptionist rang back on my mobile, but I couldn’t make out a word she was saying. The lady rang back on the landline. It was the new Warfarin dosages.

I recorded them on the pad, hoping I would remember to tell the morning Carer.

I badly needed a shower, but realised I also forgot to ask Ejaz to take off my socks. So, once again, I’ll have to make do with a stand-up-scrub, teggies, and a shave. And get the medicationalisings done wherever I can get at them. The new razors were 4-blade ones. I  thought there would, or might be less chance of getting any cuts with the gaps being narrower. Turned out that I was wrong.

Lots to do on the blog. WordPress Reader, comments… and it’s 18:40hrs already. Depressed now! The next call could be at 20:00hrs.
The blog, comments and WP reader into the early hours of the morning. Then making a meal… Nothing ever goes right for me. Even more depressed now! Better get off to the Porcelain Throne.
Well, after a series of near-normal evacuations, I’d hoped for another. But of course, it wasn’t. Bet it will be Trotsky Terence tomorrow.

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HAPPY HAPPENSTANCES!
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