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Sorry, but today’s busy planned and unplanned schedule was stored in my reminder notepad, but much of it is unreadable because so many things happened straight after one another. Things may be of of sync chronologically; some may be missing; some I hazarded a smidgen of guesswork to identify. It did not help with the activities of the day ending so late. Meaning I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Friday morning, after the Carers had been, and a one-hour failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. I’ll have to shorten a few of the event details, partly due to my inability to decipher certain words, and the cataracted eye deciding to give me foggy-bother so early in the morning. Plus, if I tried Roget it in its usual humour-traitedness, I would not have time to get it done by Friday or Saturday…
I’m waffling again, sorry about that.
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0650hrs: Got the night pouch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning. Jaut one long, unpainful, ‘thought it would never end’ flow of wet mud.
Got the kettle on, then the computer and Carer Dilan arrived. As he sorted the medications, he asked me if we had any more Bosoprolol to hand. I went into the kitchenette to check on the Carer’s Medicine Drawer. Spotted a packet of Beta-Blockers, noticing that it had been opened. As I took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
I was trying to stop Dilan from worrying about the shortage, not that he seemed in the slightest bit bothered. He gave me the morning medications… now, in the past, I have been known not to take them. Ejaz & Mirzra always make sure I have, and have seen me do it.
After Dilan had gone, I saw them in the pot, tipped them out onto the memory pad, and took them. I know I get confused, but something told me there were not as many tablets as usual. That would be toying with me. I do get confused at times, usually after one of my rare, ‘With-it-Moments’. Which I had when noticing the tablet shortage.

I got WordPress opened, ready to start the blog, and Matron (I think) came in, always glad to see her. A few general questions, then she carried out a Memory Test. Read out a name & address. Matron asked me what time it was, and I looked at the computer clock without thinking and told her. A broad smile, followed by a mild ticking of later, she continued. Hahaha!
I can’t remember everything, but counting the months backwards, no, the alphabet, was beyond me. I feel a little ashamed. Or was it numbers backwards? I forget now. And my handwriting in the notes was abysmal; I think I was writing too fast to keep up with the prompts.
Another one I failed on was what month it is, without any doubt, and with complete confidence, I said February. To find out later, when Matron pointed out that I was wrong and had scored highly on the memory test. Which I thought was a good thing, and a grin spread across my face, a smug look about to erupt. But it was the opposite, and not a very good score. I’ll be referred elsewhere for further tests.
Carer Dilan arrived on his second call, and this reminded me about the missing medications, Beta-Blockers. Matron spoke with Dilan about sorting and finding out if they are coming and when. I’ve heard nothing yet.
Several lines of indecipherable rubbish on the page here. Eight of them. Not the foggiest idea, but they were in the Matron’s visiting timeline.
Matron mentioned that I had a little brain injury. I think she said it was a TBI.

But I’m not certain now. I’m sure it was a TBI. I thought the surgeon said they had found water on my brain, NPI, was it CSF? Then again, come to think of it now, CSF, TBI? I could be wrong. I have been known to get things confused lately.
Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

Jenny 🌸💜 appeared with her ingenious collapsible chair and handed me some Hills Shortie biscuits she had bought for me. She was aware that this brand of shortcake bickies was soft enough not to bother . A  sweetheart she is. She’s helped get me noticed by calling Age UK and getting the ball rolling on assessing and determining whether I’m eligible for extra help. She advises me with logical, coherent tips and dos and don’ts. 🎀 Understands exactly how my disabilities affect me. And is the only person to do so, about the seizures. She also offered help when the Carers cannot find time to do the laundry. Bless her Cotton Socks! X
Mind you, Jenny used to work in a hospital.

Then, Jake from the Nottingham City Council,  erm.. er… I’ll look it up on the mobile… Got it!
The Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services. He went through both of my large boxes of files and saved paperwork. It took him ages; all were out of date, of course. It’s not up to date cause the Carer’s stopped storing them for me, not enough time to do them, but I hadn’t realised. He spent ages with me, trying to find proof of various pensions and banking details. He had to call Royal Insurance, which gave him a number for Cooperative Insurance, which the Royal had taken over. So, he rang them, all long-winded and proof of everything needed before progressing. Somehow, he eventually managed to get the details from the Cooperative Insurance. Then rang Royal Insurance back with any details he’d gathered from the Cooperative Insurance. Then needed further proof from my bank, and had to ring them again. Apparently, they are going to send me a written statement by post, and I’m to call Jake at the Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services, send him a photo or copy, and then he can progress with assessing my validation to get help. Haven’t I already told you all this? I hope not.

The day had now gone, and night was falling. My eyes were fading, and my frustrations were raging.

Ejaz and the training Carer arrived, and I can’t recall if anything worth mentioning happened. I was baffled by all that was going on; I think my brain gave up on me. I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.

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As I fell asleep at the computer, I dreamt of the skies turning to stone. Ice was forming all over the planet, and as the globe began to crack, I woke with a start and hurt my back. The Inner-Voice Spoke to me, in a smarmy, crude manner, saying: “You think yesterday and today were crap? – Hehe,  just you wait until tomorrow!”
I didn’t cry. But I thought about it!
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Fair Thee All Well!
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