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Humans from different nations should be mingleable
Nations resist being intergratable, annexable,
I blame them for being self-financially acquiral,
Oligarchs, Politicians, unrightly boondoggle,
They rob, steal. Kill fellow humans,  brangle…
Haves & have-nots rarely commingle,
Words rarely exchanged, mostly conjectural,
With unknown illnesses, cerebral, neuronal…
Evil thoughts & desires, greedy, demurral, 
Were we the same when we were primordial?
Did cavemen have dinosaur cordial?
Compared to us, did they have less trouble?
We have heart attacks and seizures…
COPD, wars, arthritis in the knees,
So many kinds of rapaciousness,
Hate crimes, cancers and murders…
Neanderthals, of course, had no doctors,
Mine is Sherrington Park Medical Practice,
Appoints? First, there’s the artificial intelligence,
If you are lucky and give the correct answers,
You get through to the ‘Care Navigators’,
Whose soul task is to issue bullhittings…
To stop you seeing the Doctors…
Emergency ring 999, 111 or Chemists,
Do not phone if you want prescriptions!
Email us, and not text us!
His clever claptrap discourages,
Little Faith Left in the NHS!
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Time is a big enemy of Inchie. So Much he’d like to write, but so much happened, and it’s gone midnight already. I’ll skip the hogwash; leave the bits out.
Finish it tomorrow afternoon.
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Early morning view.

Waste bags collated.

Spuds readied for tonight.
Leaving them out helps
me remember the meal plan.

Made a brew. I intend to crack on with blogging.
Due to Doreen’s Dementia, this did not happen!

A J Sainsbury food order arrived.
UNSODDING BELIEVABLE!
There was no stopping Depression Darius, and Frustration Frank was dawning after this!
Obviously, I ordered it, I know this from the food delivered, my regular gastronomic choices. But, when and why did I? I must have ordered it. I had an Asda order on Saturday, but I knew I’d placed it. I just ordered it for the wrong week. I got so confused and angry with myself. I’m short of cash as it is. The self-lambasting started the moment the driver left. I stored the fodder away. Spitting, shouting, and cursing as I did. I hope the neighbours didn’t hear me. How I need the promised help with this problem. From the neurologist who has not contacted me since November.
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I had not really calmed myself down by the time I got the food away. I emailed Jenny to make sure where the freebies were to be left. The C|theter needed emptying, and what a dark colour it was. I hope it was not an effect of the new tablets. To help stop myself thinking about the cock-ups, I got ready to hoover the hallway.
But it didn’t get done. I had to visit the Porcelain Throne, and it took me ages to clean and wash up afterwards. Trotsky Terence was back in charge.
A messy session in the extreme! I walked by the Hoover, but then I was back to talking to myself, changing subjects as I nattered along.
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The Carer arrived. Gave me a body check, foamed and creamed areas in need. Medications were given. We spoke of the Doctor’s appointment still in abeyance. And which way to handle it? No conclusions.
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DONET YET AGAIN!
A second delivery of food!
4 carrier bags full.
Many items are repeated with JS.
Talk about self-anger!
Spring water.
Freezer choker!
The fridge is the same.
Hallway.
Top corner.
Cupboards.
Drinks.
Shelves.
I’m so depressed I can’t talk about it.
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Sunset.
Sunset.
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This was not bad, but the chicken was dry.
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Late picture.
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TTFN
Not Up To Much.
On a super shameful downer!

What an ars… a Silly Boy I Be!