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I find life to be undefined,
Plans and hopes are undetermined,
Often, my thoughts are unwarranted,
My intentions remain unendorsed,
No outcomes are usually unassured!
Daily seizures are unprecedented…
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My brain? It cannot really be classified…
My bones & joints are crepitated,
In High Mood Horis, I’m almost contented,
Deep Depression Duncan often caprioled,
No one here, no chance of getting croodled,
Life is getting more circumscribed…
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There’s a hollowness when I get depressed,
I get sorry for myself, feel disadvantaged,
It may prompt wild things to be deliberated,
My thoughts get convoluted, disassembled,
A nasty DDD session can only be described…
As coffee that’s been decaffeinated.
I hate it, sickening until it’s departed!
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DDDD can’t be rectified or remedied,
It’s beyond being cured or rectified,
After it was analysed, I was repulsed,
Dementia inside cannot be resarciated,
I admit I felt forlorn, resigned…
The seizures & DDDD never retreated,
Another visit soon, to be reinvestigated,
I wonder if my brain can be reinstalled.
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In High Mood Horis, I can feel stimulated,
Although that sounds a little sugar-coated,
To wild dreams & fantasies I succumbed,
DDDD returns, I get mentally spifflicated,
The longer the session, the more scunnered,
Mentally drained, and feel shanghaied,
Writing this ode, I’ve been shemozzled…
The DDDD has suddenly sequestered,
Blessedly to uncaringness I succumbed!
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If Happy Horis stayed all day accommodated!
And DDDD could be disconnected, abdicated,
Then hopes & plans could be activated,
Then I could be far less aggravated!
And no doubt feel much less alienated,
But of course, DDDD can’t be amputated,
The damned DDD can’t even be ameliorated,
But I can get so frustrated and acerbated…
Realising that my needs can’t be assuaged,
Dreaming the Seizures may be assuaged
And Anne Gyna’s pains be abrogated!
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Daily, I’m self-loathed and vilipended,
Verbally, I’m self-verberated,
Also, I get self-vulnerated,
Once, when I left the hot tap running, I vomited,
And again, was self-vociferated,
I believed I should be vapulated,
Had my sanity been vitiated?
I kid myself I am capably viveured,
I’ve still often get self-verbally-violated,
The line below: Can I be acquitted and vindicated?
I’d gladly see Starmer vivisepultured!
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DDDDD WAS ON FOR MOST OF THE DAY.
Little got acheived.
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I found a few missing photos from yesterday’s internal memory of the Kodak Tim 2. Here they are.
Late evening shots from the kitchenette.
To the left
Centre
And the right
An earlier shot, with the moon crescent
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There’s not a lot on here. I’ve got to admit that 
really got to me today. I’m so sorry, but I was pathetically mopping about in between the lousy seizures and just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm until late afternoon when 
visited me. He didn’t stay long, and it was soon back to sitting, staring at what might as well have been a blank screen. 
But with an overfull catheter bag, too! 
The Carer told me when they arrived. An hour later, and returned and is still with me as I type away now on this computer. I spent hours on today’s ode. The reason? I’ll tell yers, Haha! 
Who usually comes on bad around 16:00hrs or so, blurred things at 14:00hrs.
Then, amazingly, at 15:00 or so, the vision came back quite suddenly. So I’m getting on with it, but naturally, I expect the return on or at any time now. Omlt just typed this, and electric shocks shot up my right leg, 
followed by his ‘ailment-in-arms’ partner 
.
No shaving cuts today, yet. I didn’t have one! Dirty boy!
As I was about to go in the wet room. Miserably, I gave up the fight and, feeling sorry for myself, sat down and fell asleep! I was woken up by 
who was in cahouts with DDD and Seizure Sandra. The daft things, I guess!
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Only photos to trigger the memory from here on.
I’m not sure this is today’s shot of the waste bags. I may have got it mixed up and deleted the wrong one.
I was merrily grafting away here. And I got that fearful, sudden-sinking feeling; I thought I had left the hot tap running again. I moved limpingly to the kitchen, and the catheter contraption fell down to almost my ankle! Arrgh!
The tug on Little Inchy was as near to excruciating as I wanted it to be. At least the tap was not running – but I’d left the fridge door open!
Now, the problems multiplied.
I had a mini-seizure as I was checking the catheter and tried to pull it up quickly to relieve the pain. Lost my balance and reached out to grab the corner of the counter, and unfortunately, I missed it due to the intense sunshine blasting through the window! I now have even more scars on the tight leg ulcer, and it bled a tiny bit as I caught it on the trolley.
On the bright side, there usually is one if I look hard enough -at least I stayed, as wobbly as they were, on my feet.
Now I had water running out of the fridge, blood trickling 
down my leg, a mess to sort out, and the telephone started ringing!
I abandoned the mess I created and got to the landline in time. Sister Jane talked about tonight’s Forest vs. Ipswich F.A. Cup game. She and Pete are going to it. (I watched it later; it’s still on the box, in extra time).
Then I went back to the kitchenette, and it wasn’t until then that 
I realised I’d just soaked myself in the cold water I’d poured into the bowl and dropped it! Wet dressing gown, legs, and feet. Which, of course, made the messed-up area even larger to clean up now! DDDD went deep this time. I can’t recall everything I had to sort out. It must have taken me well over an hour and a half. Washing and drying inside the fridge and throwing away some soaked foods. I changed my shirt and protection pants. Putting my wet slippers, shirt & dressing gown into the laundry bag. Then, I got fresh slippers, a shirt and a dressing gown. I still had some cleaning up I’d missed, and the landline rang again.
All I could hear was background noise. For anyone who knows me, to ring this late worried me. I thought it might be my sweetheart, Frank’s Jenny, or sister Jane. Jenny might have been in a pickle with something, like Jane. I’d got Jane’s number on auto dial on the landline, so I rang her first; as I did, I realised she would be at the football match. No surprise she didn’t answer. Then I rang Jenny. I know it was late, but she might have needed support or help, so I rang. She told me she was okay, and that was wonderful to hear. She spoke of the window cleaner situation at the flats and asked about the medical problem, and I told her I was waiting for Matron Jackie to visit me to explain about the seizures. Bless her for her caring nature ♥. Then Jane rang back. I was in total disarray. So many things were happening simultaneously, and I had little, if any, control over any of them.
Anne Gyna and 
both turned their attentions on me at the same time.
I had to give up sorting anything out. Concentration and confusion took over. I’ll try to finish this before I give up and get my head down. I’m so tired and weary now. Even 
joined in the mayhem.
I’m not interested in eating at all. In the morning, I must ask the caregiver to redo/repair/replace the catheter for me.
I’ll get the out-of-sync photos on.
Aha, letters delivered.
Carer allowance cut?
It’s still unopened.
The same dosages.
I remembered and made time to update the c1970s clock-calender at 17:10hrs it seemed. Hehe!
Results of the Accifauxpas over the last two days!
I’ve eaten nothing all day and am so tired. I think I’ll have some biscuits and get my head down.
Another busy day is coming up tomorrow.
Just what I need after today’s farcicalness!
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A Thought: Please make tomorrow less stressful. PLEASE!
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I’ve got 
back with me again, now. Grumph!
TTFN.
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Night pouch.
Early morning view.
Just worth noting, I thought.
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A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning.
I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had 
things bleeding later on.
Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done.
Emptied the Parsley Box meals.
Stake Hotpot.
Corned Beef Hash.
My favourite one here!
Tomatoes, they all had something in common…
The tomatoes, I mean.
Miniature bottles of shandy.
The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.
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Nigel to ease off. Nigel was accompanied by a few of Eric’s electric ankle shocks, which were shooting up my right leg. I think that Lymphorrhea Leslie is beginning to swell enough to burst again
I used the small picker-upperer to get some cream on the ankle. Then, I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day Catheter bag. I realised I had time to 
go before getting dressed to go to the dentist, and I sorted the waste bags out as the first job. 
forgot to put some in my pocket? What a twit!
These didn’t come out too badly. The few snaps I took while out in the rain, legging it back up Winchester Street Hill, were terrible efforts.
I got some more Germolene cream on 
Arrived on the first call. I had just gone into a Seizure Mode. Events are a little vague. I feel she helped me with the bus timetable. I can’t understand why I have this Arithmaphobia about numbers, time, etc. 
As I crossed the road to visit the Heron Store for the first time, the rain started splattering down. I remembered the pork knuckle, Pork Pie with egg, and potato waffles they used to sell in the Bulwell store, and my taste buds were already tingling as I went in and made my way to the fresh food fridges.
Up the hill to the Dentist. A complete stranger saw me struggling to get the walker shopping bag up the 4 steps outside the front door of the surgery. Bless her. ♥
I got into the reception, only to find that I had got the wrong time for the appointment! I was 1½hrs early! The lady looked at me with a sideways glance. I responded by saying not to worry, that I had my crossword book and pen with me, and I apologised for getting the timing wrong.
I decided to take a different route back up to the flats. Instead of going down Mansfield Road and up Winchester Street Hill back to the apartments, I went down Hallem Road and around Winchester Hill. En route, the rain had disturbed all the mud from the many trees being cut down. They were pushing their roots up and 
cracking the pavement tarmac.
I felt weary but contented at having made the little trip without any real 
. And feeling good. I got up to the apartment and dried myself off. Emptied the catheter pouch, got the kettle on, and put the purchases away.
Ah, I forgot I’d bought some beer-battered chips & onion rings. I might have them for tonight’s meal. If I ever get this blog started, that is. 
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04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long 
sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.
I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.
I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once.
The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?
had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.
Carer Richard made the first call.
done.
Oh, some mail had arrived.
I went to get the meal cooked
What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas 
and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of 
, like never before! Tsk! 
won the battle.
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, I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻 
Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘
nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card.
an unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! 
The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
a higher-in-the-sky shot.
The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.
Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas 
that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.
Sudden darkness befell!
mission. 
I zoomed in to get a close-up.
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Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. 
holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! 
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked 
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added.
Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
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My situation could be described as delicate,
Great Results This Week!
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I got the waste bag to the doorway, then went to take some morning snaps from the kitchenette window. It felt bitter cold as I opened the window. Then, I had to change my plans again. The innards indicated it would be wise to visit the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!
Yet again, it was a close call that I got to the 
took me ages. 
1: Taking off the PPs, as I tore down the seam, I caught the top catheter gripper with my broken fingernail; this caused me to tug at the tube stuck down the poor and now painful 
. 
, it really annoyed 
.
were barrier-creamed. Then I did the eye drops and spraying.
, with the oils spread all over me, then the floor I’d just cleaned! I saw the funny side, and 
in my stride, you know. 
Hours after my first attempt, I got snaps of the morning view.
I tried a closer-in shot of Cavendish Vale. That’s the road with the suspiciously first snow-melting roof tiles on the left of this picture. Hehe!
the other day and must have thought I’d done them. So, back to catching up
I took a snap through the kitchenette window. The top right is a gloomy-looking view, complete with ‘the ‘Persistent Blotch’ showing. It’s easier to hide when taking night shots cause the blotch blends in the darkness and is less conspicuous. 
The waste bags had not been taken to the rubbish chute yet. So, I took them to the rubbish chute. On my way back after depositing the bags down the 
tube, 
it gave way. No tumble or fall, though, just pain. Hehe! I smiled at it and whistled as I hobbled back to the flat. 
Around 16:00hrs, the Co-op food delivery arrived. I’d stocked up with the cheesy bread rolls. I’m rather partial to these. I also got some ready-made beef and 
caramelised onion sandwiches. It was not cheap, but I was feeling idle and tired and had no sleep lately. I added some cooked smoked bacon, chicken thighs, German smoked cheese, & sliced tomato to the sarnie and 
overcooked battered onion rings. Well, I like them browned a little. Salted the sliced tomatoes. Nice! Complete with semi-hidden blotch! 
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With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon.
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. Within seconds I was clunking back down into c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Unsure if 
,
hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!
knees. 
washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that
.
As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened!
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The Kodak Brownie box camera?
Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa?
Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower?
Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder?
Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular?
Recall the Ration Book, weekly; 
Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir?
No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser.
The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer?
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was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off 
gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted.