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I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi,
He was not soul-collecting, he called socially,
I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023,
He said he was depressed but very busy,
North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine,
Available Souls to collect rises again…
Gaza, so many humans getting slain,
Children starving, dying in pain,
There is no world affability or affinity,
Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity,
Politicians without any accountability,
No shortage of greed or ambivalency,
Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy…
Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll,
War children build themselves a bolthole,
Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole,
Free murderers, with a legal loophole,
Killers, murderers given parole,
We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl,
Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole,
Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal,
Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole!
I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…”
Dying must surely be more peaceful?
Is heaven extraterrestrial?
Was humankind meant to be experimental,
I sense that we are all fossiliseable,
Well, of course, anything is possible…
Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal,
This starts when they are foetal,
Anklesnappers turn into people,
They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical,
Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ,
You see, but you don’t know what to do…
Your hopes for happiness are exhausted,
Your faith in humankind has vegetated…
Your lust for life has withered…
The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated,
Your caring nature has been exploited,
Life itself, you’ve never bested,
Truth is, you are no longer interested…
You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested,
You’ve not changed, but the world has altered,
You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted…
This earth has been maladministered,
Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered!
And pensioners he has murdered…
Yet Starmer remains undeterred,
Wait for him in hell to see him burn!
Then your sense of humour can return!
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Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary
when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my
.
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!
Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into
the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.
I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away.
The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two.
Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter
in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon
yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.
Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.
When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.
My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!
I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up
photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?
The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.
I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.

Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot,
bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!
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TTFN.



BACK AT THE COMPLEX
Hunger took a grip, and I decided to have the cheesy cobs I’d bought, no-butter buttered, with pork in jelly, sliced oh so thick and crammed into the rolls. I also sliced some tomatoes (slicing off a bit off of the end of my left-hand thumb) to salt and add to the feast.
glasses and hearing aid batteries, and to pick up the Kodak Tim camera. As I emptied the urine pouch, I soon found out that it was not a good idea to forget to take the water with me.
I took a wash and meandered into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, but I stopped myself from making a brew, what with the dark colour of the urine.
I sprang a wake, unsure when or what time, and looked at the night catheter on the floor. It still seemed very dark to me. Got the Kodak and took this snap of it on the floor. Realising I’d not got into the bed, I checked the time… it was 04:00hrs. I got up, changed the catheter,
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But does that include the product?
During the last four hours on the computer, I just got one photo to save! And that was one of the worst I’ve ever taken.
I got up at 05:00hrs and got the ablutions done. Took a poo, and it was two-tone in both ways. Started off taking agony and ages to get it moving; one giant torpedo plopped out, followed by soft, gooey Trotsky Terence splashes! A few weeny cuts shaving. I didn’t do all the medical checks, as the DVT nurse is going to check the read end in the examination later at the surgery; blood and Haemorrhoid Harold are to be tested again. 
Early evening sky.
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Bit of blood mixed in the nocturnal bag?
Morning views.
My beloved tree copse. I’d love to have a hobble through it again. But…
Late evening view.
cobs and an expensive Pots & Co. Lemon & Lime Posset.
I found seven in ten minutes!
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I got on the computer to finish Monday’s blog. Then, most surprisingly, I was summoned to the porcelain Throne again. I was even more amazed at Trotsky Terence in control again! Which made me feel a fool for mentioning how pleased I was with Constipation Conrad. Now, I think the opposite. Coping with the bloody catheter is bad enough, especially with having to wear trousers again, the first time in months. I regained the worry over any leaks from the catheter or it filling up while I was out; now I fear things may escape from the rear end!
I pressed on with starting this blog. And half an hour into the job – unbloody-believable!
I chickened out and walked down Winchester Street Hill into Sherwood, carefully
hitting leaf-covered potholes. No falls yet.
Road to the supposedly arranged flu jab at the top chemist. On the way up the hill, I called in the Co-op and got some food. As I walked up towards the chemist, the atmosphere was bleak. Nine people on that short stretch of the incline sat in closed shop doorways with the traditional pot of coffee, begging and giving out depressing stares that could melt you if you looked back at them. Poor devils or con men?
try the bottom chemist, a quarter of a mile down the hill and almost up the high point on the right. So I began the long trek down and up Mansfield Road to the second chemist to investigate. I got so far down and
remembered there was a chemist to the north that the Carer might have booked me in with. Turned around, passing the Co-op and first chemist back up the hill and down to the Daybrook Chemist. I was feeling knackered by then! Got there. So, back up the Mansfield Road Hill to Sherwood, down through Sherwood to the chemist.
He rang other chemists without any luck. But Carrington Chemist could do me now and give me the COVID-19 jab.
Then, the long slog back up the Mansfield Road hill and down into Sherwood began.
I pressed on steadily and carefully.
I called into the continental shop and got some food. Then, I finally reached the bottom of Winchester Street. I have no idea of the bus timings nowadays, so
I hastened… Haha! And hobbled up Winchester to the bus stop.
Gt in the flats, said hello to Warden Julie as I passed, and up to the flat. Food & sleep, I’m sure, were primarily on my mind.
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diverted to the wet room without any delay.
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After Richard had left, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I hastened to the wet room. I sat down in time today, avoiding a third day of embarrassment by not making it in time! Trotsky Terence ruled again, as I knew he would by the rumbling and almost squelching from the innards.
I was getting increasingly frustrated with the computer and went to the kitchen to do the safety checks. During last night’s cooking, I discovered
that I’d left the slow cooker turned on for about 18 hours without realising because there was nothing in it. Well, there are now
rigmarole was completed for the third time today, it let me save photos of it its own choice but not others. I’m fed up! Here they are. I snapped these first thing this morning. But didn’t do such an excellent job of them as
I’d hoped to this time.
The photo I’d taken of the returned slipper was saved and used. Oh, I’d better check that they haven’t fallen off the towel trickle heater. They’ve
all dried now, last night’s pee’d on tartan-coloured slipper I put in the laundry bag.
Not the foggiest what they were about.
I’m getting to the point of no return, I think.
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hasten to the Porcelain Throne ASAP!
plonked my bottie on the porcelain. The evacuation started before I got settled. I think it must be the liquidest evacuation I’ve ever suffered! And boy, did it reek! Yes, it did!
The evacuation lasted about thirty seconds.
reaction; it was, but desperately
The potatoes had boiled over and stained the cooker, floor, saucepan and counter! I was livid at myself!
The story behind this miserable meal.
This week has undoubtedly proven that I need more help.
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I woke at about 06:24,
Bother from Toothache Tiffany,
I took two shots from the kitchen window,
To the left and right, in auto,
Royal Anya potatoes & chicken,
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