Alto-Inchie: Ayup Inchy, I’ve come to cheer you up!
Inchy: Christ, that made me jump, you plonker, fancy materialising when I’m on the bog!
Alto: I’m surprised missen, when I call on yer, yer usually always on yer blog! Hehehe!
Inchy: ‘Ow, come you’re talking in my Nottingham Meadows accent then?
Alto: Well, I’m gonna miss yer when you clock out, kick the bucket, snuff it…
Inchy: Just hang on a second here… do you know summat I don’t about my departure from this miserable mortal coil?
Alto: Well, yer… I was talking wiv Thanatos, formerly known as Azrael, and better known to humans as the Grim Reaper. The personification, embodiment, and spirit of Death yesterday…
Inchy: He’s real, then? What does he do?
Alto: He collects humans to carry them off to the underworld when the time allotted to them by the Fates has expired, and recaptures souls escaping from the underworld…
Inchy: Owd-it, let me clarify this: you are an Alto-Ego that goes around getting into humans’ minds just to annoy them. Is that right?
Alto: Spot on dog-breath! You might have made a rotten stinking mess of your earth life, dumbo, but I reckon you’ll make it in the underworld; the surreal is more palpable to you than reality is… I don’t blame you, really…
Inchy: You don’t blame me, really. For what?
Alto: You’ve gone through a lot; yer one only a handful of humans that have ever recognised an Alto-Ego when we visit, and you know that it actually you, you’re talking to!
Inchy: Well, that comes naturally, dunnit?
Alto: Not to anyone who’s sane; it doesn’t…
Inchy: Meaning, insinuating?
Alto: Let’s look at the help you’ve had over the years, shall we?
Inchy: Help? Me? Erm… all right then… worra yer mean like?
Alto: You had a rough childhood; no question about that is there…
Inchy: Suppose so, but it didn’t depress me, just took it as a normal life…
Alto: Exactly, Inchy! Despite the struggle to reach your teenage years and become a temporary alcoholic, you pressed on, gave up the drink, until your brain got infected…
Inchy: Infected?
Alto: Yer; starting with Dementia Doreen, I know you give each ailment a name, see. Then you got the Peripheral Neuropathy; I’ll not mention your being made redundant at 60. Then, you worked in Security, the only job you could find, and got yourself shot twice.
Inchy: Oh, kind of yer not to!
Alto: Next, you had the stroke, then confirmed with Cogniscent Impairment Iris & Dementia Doreen.
Inchy: Sound bad, dunnit?
Alto: It was and still is, mate! Yer now in yer Coffin-Expectancy-Years but won’t get one because you’ve prepaid for yer cremation funeral already. Not to forget your mechanical Aorta Valve heart operation of course. And going deaf.
Inchy: A long list innit Alto?
Alto: I’ve not finished yet, Inchy…
Inchy: Oh!
Alto: All the ailments mentioned have brought on Constipation Conrad, Arthur Itis, Cartilage Collapsing Chloe and Carole, Duodenal Donald, Lymphorrhoeas Leslie, Anne Gyna, Back Pain Brenda, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Reflux Roger, Bladder Belinda, and Prostate Paul. Cathies Catheter Contraption,
Inchy: Have yer done?
Alto: No! Left Hip Pain Hilda, Leg Papules leaking Fluid, Leaking Leg Papules Leonard, Colin Cramps, Diabetes2, Acne and Eczema, Ankles PN electric shocks, Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding, and giving you monolithic-moods of massive depressions! And your latest one, Non-Epileptic Seizure Disorder… he needs to be given a name yet, you know! What about Seizure Disorder Sid?
Inchy: Oh, you noticed? Yes, Sid is fine with me…
Alto: Had I been a human, I’d have paid to send you to Switzerland or Dignitas for active euthanasia years ago. Don’t use the Samaritans; they’ll only try to talk you out of it…
Inchy: It’s weird, I know, but you seem to be in a caring, compassionate mood.
Alto: After my chat with Thanatos, the Grim Reaper, I got the feeling that he will be with you soon, and he will. He is excited and looking forward to collecting your Soul…
Inchy: Marvellous! But why? He must be so busy with the Middle East battles, diseases, and Ukraine and Putin’s Russian deaths; why would he bother about my demise?
Alto: As I said, he is interested in seeing how you go on in the underworld…
Inchy: Underworld? Is that hell?
Alto: Well, yeah! But an ethereal one, not like the Bible supposedly tells us.
Inchy: I don’t follow that…
Alto: I can’t tell you much about it, as Alto Rule 403320/b/death/keep.schtum prevents us from passing on any details you see. They don’t want any souls escaping and making hard work for the already overworked Grim Reaper.
Inchy: Why?
Alto: Wiv all the wars going on again, the poor chap is up to the neck in ‘Soul-Collecting’…
Inchy: Well, he can miss me if he likes, it that helps!
Alto: Yer missing the point, mate. Yer Oligarchs, Politicians, Parole Board Members, Warlords, and the like, will not go to the underworld; it’s just pure hellfire for them.
Inchy: I like the sound of that!
Alto: I shouldn’t tell yers really, but, as I’ve grown to like yer…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes…
Alto: The world ends shortly, as I mentioned to yer last month, but a new planet has been forming in the outer universe interplanetary space… Well, it’s being done by the unknown to anyone apart from the universe’s Altos and Thanatos workers. It should be a complete regenesis by August this year, which, as long as you are in the underworld by then, you will be able to start life again on a breathable planet. I am most intrigued to see how you get on with it… And Thanatos needed a good laugh!
Inchy: You’re pulling my plonker, ain’t you?
Alto: Yea… Hahaha!
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Going done so often caused me many problems and ultra-frustration. I have used more swear, curses, and words of hatred today than ever. 
I took off the 
night bag. Got it emptied and safe-wrapped for disposal.
None of the 
were leaking this morning. But it looked like the right leg infection was creeping up the chin area.
Took a photographicalisation of the morning’s view..
And a close-up nosey at the house being done up.
Started the notes of the day.
Within five minutes, the above.
… And boy, I was forced to by the oligarchs of 
.
Had a mess to clean up. Then got the gown back on. 
So, made another brew, Thompson Punjana, this time.
Fancy that!
Only for about 5 minutes offline this time.
I started to write down the order for the food I didn’t need, but at that time I didn’t realise I didn’t need it, cause I’d forgotten about ordering the Asda order that I’d done a day or so ago for the next week… I think!
Took this snap of the agony-giving legs. 
owners of 
Far left; the jaws of a creature.
Back again… for one minute!
As Victor Meldrew would say…
A long mouse lower centre?
Fantastic! A Michelin Man – Bigfoot in the clouds, with a Dolphin jumping out of the clouds to the right! See it?
The pan with the vegetable soup with Borchst added was now a blob of nothingness! I threw away the pan contents, triple-wrapped them into the bin, and washed the saucepan. But, It’s led a charmed life, this saucepan has. The number of times I’ve burnt food in it) Hehehe! Tsk!
and my 
against the server trolley wheel and leg.
A great nosh despite all the hassle.
Bootiful! I could see a stretched face in there?
A close-up, taken by accident. 
A wide shot…
A close-up of the orange rift; Is that the word?
Stir back into imitation life. Remove the night catheter bag from the day one. 
for bleeding – Put olive oil in the earholes – 
eye drops in the cataracted right eye, 
eyedrops in the same eye, then some in 
left eye. Next, check that 
needs any ointment to be applied. Then check on the ever-changing Warfarin dosages.
Remove the ankle ulcer pad, and clean up any seepages; if so, put a new pad on.
.
s habit of bringing on an involuntary 
. Which has had me over on many occasions. 
often causes the odd nick or two.
Decoking the hearing aids and checking the batteries have to be done. It’s easier when I remember to put the olive oil in beforehand… which is not very often.
, to make sure that in the event of my remembering, I’ve got another hospital or clinic appointment; and have booked a lift there and back.
Consult the medical log to make sure I’m got them right. I should do this first, but always seem to forget all about it until after. This fault is helped along by 
or
checking the boll-weevil traps, in case any need emptying and replacing. 
By now, it’s generally time for my late breakfast. Occasionally, I have the one mug of Glengettie tea allowed me per day, by the kind doctors at the 
, and some biscuits with them. Not with the doctors, the mug of tea.
Loosely, this is true, but, I’m beginning to resign myself to it now. Hehehe!
I love this one; just look at the dates. Hehe!
I burst into life with a jolt, inane muttering coming from my mouth; I must have been in the middle of a dream? 
.
Decent-coloured urine this morning.
in complete charge. Messy!
A stand-up job. Bleeding aplenty from various departments during the washing-up, of my magnificent, muscular, firm, women-attracting body. 
Where from? I’ll tell yers: Teeth and gums, nose, chin, neck, head and of course the regulars, 
, and poor old 
tube.
took me half as long again as the flipping wash & brush-up did.
Within five hours it had been down nine times! (And more followed!) By the end of the day, the smoke & mirrors money fanatics had failed me no less than 22 times! I really must say, My hatred for them grows!
boss Herr Fries led and owned companies internet 
Laundry returned.
Something else to do while the Liberty-Global internet is down.
Back on the computer…
Ad an early meal, just a small one.
Not sure why or when I took this one.
, 
, 
or maybe even a
took a shot of the end car park as it was beginning to darken a little. We can’t have had much rain lately; the mudslide from Woodthorpe Grange Park was noticeable by its absence! 
Waking up to the flashing light from the TV screen, which did the cataract no good.
The amazing blue hue of the night.
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and 
prevented me from moving for a while. I grabbed the Pain Gel tube, and somehow managed to get up on my feet without tripping over the 
tubing, and lathered on where I could reach o the back, then took an extra Codeine Phosphate painkiller. It didn’t do much good.
Struggled to get the thick slippers on.
Emptied the night bag, wrapped it and binned it in the appropriate bag.
While the Internet was down, I tried to read the letter from Nuthall Hospital. But it was hard work with the spyglass. I asked a Carer to assist to make sure I got the time & date right. Put it on the calendar.
While waiting for the Liberty-Global owned, Virgin Media to start again, I realised that it must be the demand on the system my Royalists wanted to see the Coronation? Or would that be right? Would it affect things? 
I titivated the Carers stable a bit – and sod-it, 
– 
were joined by 
all increased their agonies inflicted on me. I know full well that I should not take Ipobrufen, but the Paracetamols are not doing anything to ease the pain at all, so I took one. 
He informed me that they had been given the wrong area code, which is why the parcel was not delivered yesterday. I confirmed it with him. It will be arriving later today. After ringing off, I wondered how the food had been stored, cause there are some fresh foods ordered? Later a driver called me, couldn’t understand much of what he was saying, but gathered he needed instructions t
Set about sorting it out.
Got it opened and the things sorted…
This should see me through without an order next week.
Goulash etc., fit for a king!
There had been ice packs in the box. But with them coming a day late, they were now just bags of water. Got some meat for Sister Jane as a treat.
We couldn’t work out what cloth it was. 
ten minutes of the performance. But found it a little sad in a way.
Potatoes, vegetable loaf and the swede & carrots.
Vegan ice-cream.
Just after midday, I think!
Front car park.
Pareidoliaist-time here. Can you see anything?
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milling 
Still, it didn’t affect my distinguished looks. Hehehe! 
, 
or by the double-glazed head-butting wound on my forehead. However… conversely, 
arrived. I was so pleased to see him at last. But I was so tired I could not communicate properly. He told me to ring Matron about the leaking papules. Can’t recall much more; I think I kept nodding off while he was talking. Not being rude; just worn out through lack of sleep. I think he said as he left he’ll see me next Monday? A look at the roster later backed this up. Shame, only once a week.
was trying Otto stop me from talking, doing a reasonable job too: That the Carer, who was just out of the hospital with a similar problem, advised me to. I didn’t impress her!
.
, each one was messy.
.
and/or
, was assisting 
.
A few lonely little clouds…
Flavour Rating: 802/10!
Oh, there was one other break in my sleep I’d forgotten about. I jouncingly, joltingly, and jarringly woke up, positive that someone had come into the flat. Not sure if it was a noise or part of a dream I’d been having, but I was certain someone was in the hallway…
testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, uncomfortable recliner… if there had been anyone coming in, they would have been about ten-minutes older by the time I got to the hallway. 
Deaf with Dementia?
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But the joy was soon dented.
was in full command of the evacuation again.
Kept guzzling water in hopes that the catheter would not be put back on.
Boxed them for me.
Cupboard bag
Fresh stuff
Full fridge, do you think?.
Tried to ring 
for me to find out about the account, but she was unable to get through to them.
arrived, and now I was in utter confusion. Tsk!
I laughed as the tube went in and through Little Inchy, the urethra, the prostrate and then into the urine-filled bladder. I was nattering away to help them keep calm! They looked rather nervous and kept asking me if I was alright and if it was hurting? Bless ’em.
I burnt the pan of tomatoes, cleaned it up and put another can in the pan.
Arrived, a know-all, snottily superior attituded lad. Self-Self, Self. He asks, “What have you got to tell me, then?” Goes on his mobile and doesn’t listen. And didn’t take the bags with him to the chute on
! I was feeling so slow-witted and tired suddenly. Everything is normal then!
Light-headed. heavy eye-lidded, and with a new (to me) style of viewpoint, I shall call it ‘Soddumall Sunday’, I pressed on with getting the Health Checks sorted… No wee-wee! No call to the Porcelain Throne, no Dizzy Dennis when I stood up from the computer; I’d been on for about six hours, none-stop… and; I genuinely felt I just wasn’t going to get all hot and bothered about anything! 
figures had come down.
I poddled out into the balcony and was greeted by the wind and 
I heard the beeping noise when the text came in, but I just could not locate where it was. It had to be close for me to have heard it. I checked all my pockets and got down with the torch to look underneath the Hopewells 1966 broken, with doors hanging off dangerously cabinet, but it had not fallen underneath that.
and 
that was the cause of this. As the day progressed, I saw more and more areas of the carpet mainly, that looked like they had water running along them. Looked in the wet room, junk room and kitchen without any success. So I gave up. 
Into the kitchen to make another brew of tea, Thompson’s Punjana, this time. 
Cutting this short now. Just got to get some sleep; not feeling well at all.
The potatoes looked and tasted okay.
the scab off of the finger. put a plaster on.
looked okay. Been a grind getting it done today, but felt a smidge smug about my struggles and efforts.
ridden!
At last, sleep, peace, escape from the fretting and mental nitpicking and panicking… 
Kiya, I think, woke me up… it was a foggy memory in the morning; nothing scribbled on the notepad, and no recollectionings either?
I woke up nearly five hours later, much refreshed at 01:40hrs. The smell from the abandoned meal I left in the kitchen permeated sickeningly throughout the flat. This forced me from the recliner to bag it up several times and into a final waste bag. A twinge of guilt at the state of the surrounding kitchen encouraged me clean things a little. (Not a lot, mind you!)
Well, I thought that the Blood Pressure figures would be enough to put me down towards the amber zone.
rang, and I got a jump when she came into the kitchen and greeted me. Hahaha! 
The new DVT Anticoagulant Therapy Record was found by accident. It had fallen underneath the Carers table.
The 
took a grip as I was readied to go. So many checks and rechecks were carried out, keeping an eye on the time. 
I was so glad to avoid a painfully vicious and bruised bloody battle with 
.
had to got me again! I was wee’d of with myself, but not as much as usual. (Fed-Up Grade B style!) I decided to just go into Bulwell for a hobble around, feed the duck=ks and birds and inevitably, do some shopping. So, I did!
I went to the machine; I’d never seen such a small one like it before. I asked the lady when she’d finished using it, apologising first for bothering her, which way the card goes in. She stayed with me, bless her, and went through it with me. When it came to putting in the number… believe it or not, a four-digit number came into my mind from somewhere in the ether. A flash prayer, and I put it in, and it worked! 
The mini-machine only allowed £40 to be withdrawn. I thanked the lady customer so much for helping me and whatever entity it was that gave me the number needed! Can I remember it now? Nope!
I hadn’t taken a pen with me! I had a search around all my pockets and the trolley, nope, no pen! 
Hunger being a new desire, I got whatever they were supposed to be vegan slices in the oven. Then wondered if I’d locked the door instead of leaving it open for the carer coming. I went to check…
&
already damaged and broken back double molar, and it joined the beans in my mouth! 
Next time I go to Bulwell, I shall inform the sellers! The orange yoghourt tasted a little sour to me, but it was on its last sell-by day. So, I’ll throw the other ones away.
I spat out th
at just the wrongs time, it shot out of hand. I think I heard it ping as hit something or other and disappeared into the ether? Carer Richard is good at finding things; if I don’t come across it, I’ll ask Richard to have s look for it for me on Monday. I’ll likely find it by treading on it with my bare feet as I walk around.
On my first reading of the letter, I fear that between my 
, 
, 
, with the help of Glaucoma Gladys, brought on stabbing pains from 
, 
mode, was automatical engaged. – 
These things never fail to arrive at the weekend. When there are no ILCs on site. I have to stew, fret and panic until Monday. Then sometimes, I can’t get in touch with Deana. Fair enough, she is up to the neck and so busy looking after us all. 
came in. He looked so tired; bless him. It must have been about 19:20hrs; it must have been his last c
and my depression combined to ensure that sleep was not an option for many hours, gone 02:00hrs. I got three hours in, though. Before bursting jumpingly awake at 05:00hrs, with a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne… but, did I make it in time? Dang, dang dang, danggg!