MEMORIES OF STARMERS SHORT STAY
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
STARMERS PLANS?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
SUNDAY 19th JULY 2026
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Poor effort of the blog today, folks.
Got the trots again this morning. Come the afternoon, I faded. Just so tired, dizzy, foggy… Not good.
Hoping that I’ll be alright for Carer Mizra’s late visit, he hopes to help me shower. I’ll see how I feel earlier, try to get a stand-up wash, shave and teggies done before the lad arrives, then just body shower and medicationings to do. Going to have to stop here, in hope of falling asleep before the Carer comes, the thought of sleep is like a medicine, much needed. Might be back later.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I’M BACK
Managed to get a stand-up wash, teggies and a shave.
Despite the spinning head full of dizzies, rumbling-hrumbling innards and knocking off the new scab on the rib wound. I did what barrier creaming and Phorpain gelling I could get at without stretching of bending.
I even managed, with the aid of the picker-upper, to get clean protective pants on my bottom. I’ll ask the Carer to do my shoulder, neck, back, man-breasts & belly mould.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I think I only had one mug of tea today, the tonic and spring water went down well, though.
I’m writing this at midnight, cause I feel up to it now.
I settled down and fell asleep.
Carer Mizra made the last call. Not here for long, but as usual, he did a lot of helpful things; he checked emails and texts for me. Medications given. Apologised for not being able to help me take a shower. Said he would wash my feet for me tomorrow – if he is rostered to call. 
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Minutes after Carer Mizra had left, I spewed up.
Made a mess on the recliner, me, and the carpet. My spinning head & dizziness got even worse after that.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
As I settled into the recliner to get ready to watch the match. I could hear my grumbling stomach as I was watching the match. Spain outplayed the dirty, nasty, fouling Argentinians. I was so glad that Spain won.
Great! Most amazing, I managed, but only just, to stay awake for the match & extra-time!
Spain won 65% of possession and completed 762 accurate passes to 358. It was complete domination. Argentina set an (anti-record) by failing to take a single shot on Spain’s goal during the first 90 minutes, compared to Spain’s 20! 
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I thought an ice cream might settle my innards, and took an extra Codeine for whatever it was that was messing with me. A cold, maybe? When I hobbled into the kitchenette, I smelled the burning meal I’d left in the pan. So, no nosh tonight. Getting the food thrown away and cleaning the pot, I threw up a second time. Considering I’d had nowt to eat, I wondered what it was I’d regurgitated. A fair bit of it. Just me and the kitchen floor to clean this time. Back to the other room, and I got down with a strong will, to get some sleep – this time I vomited into a waste-bin bag.
Sleep was denied to me, and I got up to do this update. The innards were feeling as if there were another load brewing up for evacuation from my guts, and I started involuntarily passing some terrible phooey and often lengthy rear-end escapages of wind.
Then I had to get up to go to the Porcelain Throne. Got the stick, night Catheter pouch in hand, and wobbled my way into the wet room… Amazing! The Trotsky Terence Type evacuated product looked the same colour as each of the wrenching-ups I’d had.
Rotten Luck on the way out of the wet room. I sort of walked into the door frame as my balance fluctuated, and shoulder-charged it. 
Swore? Cursed? Me? Well…
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
—————————————
Nothing was the answer!
—————————————
—————————————
—————————————