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Today was bad enough, gut-wrenching, piteous, and wretched. By the time I got around to starting this blog on Saturday morning, up until about 03:00hrs, hope had returned, and it seemed I was at last going to make some progress with it. But No!
CorelDraw, MS Word, and the computer’s shortage of memory ensured that Monday was going to be the worst day of the month. Sunday was bad enough. So, I’m putting both days of the same blog in hopes of getting at least some catching up done. Sunday’s memories faded as I tackled Monday’s surge of dingbats, computer cock-ups, Seizures, insanity and failures. Sunday’s tales are going to be in short-form, detail-wise. Monday’s events took over my poor, demented brain.
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Finally got to bed.
Waking up views…
A little misty out there.
Ejaz found the ‘missing’, much-searched-for Cancer Phoo Test thing I’d lost.
Did a body check, foamed the feet, and changed the socks… well, no, he didn’t come thinkl if it… or was that on Sunday. Confused again. It would help a lot if I could read my own writing on the memory pad. Then, as I was telling Ejaz about me losing the kit, he smiled a sarcastic, sympathetic smile, shook his head, and picked it up from between the pillow and cover. I felt such a fool!
My balance seemed a lot better today, despite my lack of sleep. And as Ejaz left, I found myself singing to myself. Cliff Richards’ The Young Ones’, humming to the Shadows’ Stars Fell on Stockton’, and moved on to a quick Yodelling song, Frank Ifields’ She Taught Me To Yodel’.
Then I grabbed the phoo-test equipment and off to the Porcelain Throne to catch a torpeo in the bucket for sample taking? But could I get anything to flow? No! I waited and waited, hoped and prayed.
Nothing, not a sausage! I crossed my fingers I would remember where I left the taking- kit. On top of the toilet roll.
I hadn’t felt this good for ages; I was almost perky! I got on the computer and made great progress on Friday’s blog. I reckon I started singing again, as I opened Excel to make the graph. To add a column for the weight of the passed urine to be recorded in.
I didn’t, and still don’t know what I did wrong!
But after two hours altering things, Excel froze!
I contained mt self-anger well if I recall rightly. I just closed it and left it for a while. Then reopened it.
I’ve never seen many messages come up on the screen one after the other! I checked on Google, asking their robot what I need to do.
That just confused me more. So, I did the usual and turned everything off, then started again…
Stupidly not saving the CorelDraw and WP work I’d just done, in my desire to get the Excel book back.
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Booted up, pressed the Excel start button, and it did so. I chose the file to open, and it opened… but it was the same as when I first started it, hours earlier. I’d lost all that work! It was a struggle to sort it out because relearning how to use and manipulate the programme was so difficult to remember, and I thought I’d done a good job… but not now.
Another hour lost, then I had to start over.
Gasps of frustration!
Ejaz rushed to clean, dry, and medicate my feet and ankles. There was no body check this time.
He was so busy.
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Who is it? Does it matter?
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No doubt about it, no question.
This must be the worst snap
than I’ve ever taken.
The envelope for the phoo sample.
End car park, it looks a
little different to me?
Sheer frustration made me take this shot.
Three wheelchairs bought, and I can’t
use a single one of them! Humph!
I turned on the TV to watch some Heartbeat.
A new world record… for me anyway.
I felt like I’d blinked, and nearly nodded of and shot awake instead. Carer came in… I then felt the upsurge of acidity into the mouth, nose, and throat, so there was no guesswork needed.
This, I believe, was my longest ever seizure.
I turned on the TV minutes after he left on his previous visit. Seems that I’d been off into cuckoo-land for around three hours or more. With the recovery taking very little time, it adds value to my estimate. In the past, all short mini seizures had taken much longer to come out of. The longer ones seem so much easier. There’s a reason for this, but nobody told me what it was.
A snap here, of my right leg.
Pretty little thing, innit?
Hahehe! Seriously, though, it is far better today, clearing up nicely, now; thank you very muchly.
A bit dodgy when taking the bowl back to the kitchen sink. Can’t carry that and a walking stick, but my balance has much improved over the last two days. I’d like to say the same about Back-Pain-Brenda and Right-Shoulder-Sharia. But you can’t win them all. The odd one would be nice.
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Fings ain’t wot they used to be,
That no longer bovvers me,
I don’t say it antagonistically,
I ain’t talkin aggravatedly,
So good luck is an absentee,
I’ve got peripheral neuropathy,
Can’t see, cataract, you see,
TBI, and a fractured knee,
Catheter. no manual pee,
Bad back, deaf, Tothache Tiffany,
So many worse of than Inchie…
Arithmophobia, littlest ever willy,
But I get understanding from Jenny,
How did I get into this state? A mystery…
Please accept my apology.
Hehehe!
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All The Best, TTFNski!
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Late morning, mist lingering late today.
This is a log of Goat’s cheese, delivered tonight, and I could not recall ordering anything at all.
Evening view.
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I managed to make a cock-up with the follow-on Poo-test. I thought I’d taken the envelope and swab thingy into the wet room with me. Constipation Conrad was in full control today. I made three attempts to force things along, but on the second fail, I could not find the swab pot thingy. I searched all over, but failed to find it. All these worries add up. affecting my outlook and mood. Just when I had cause to cheer up, something went wrong again. Like me, leaving the hot water tap running to go cold, AGAIN. Luckily, after I’d washed and shaved. I was washing the socks when the nurse arrived. Broke my concentration; it takes very little to do that nowadays. Humph!
Nurse Rebecca arrived. Nice to see her again. 
No butter-buttered bread with cheese spread.
Not very good, the best I could do.
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ch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning.
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.
en me do it.
I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.
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Had a clean up, and headed into the kitchenette to put the kettle on.
Warmer now, so I went onto the balcony to take some pictures as the fog started to fade, and the odd glimpse of sunshine was breaking through occasionally. The mudslide seemed large, with no rain having fallen. Not so busy today, I regretted saying that later on.
I went to answer the phone, well, the mobile, I knew it would not be Jenny, but I just missed the call, they stopped as I opened the mobile.
Finally, at long last, I got the computer going, oh, Dearie me! It got stuck when booting up. My heart sank.
Ejaz came again. Set up the other shaver for me and showed me how to use it, as he left to take the laundry down, I tried the computer again. And…
Wonder if the sunset woi;; get through tonight? A
I went to get a bottle of spring water and saw the laundry bag had not been emptied. Sleeves inside out. socks twisted together, they took a lot of sorting out, and with it being late, and my cataracted eyes as usual got worse the more tired I got. I left it because I couldn’t see which socks were which to pair them up. I’ll ask the Carer on the last call to sort them. They used to do that, but have stopped recently with all the other jobs they have on, not their fault.
I went to see what fodder was available for my evening feast. I also feasted on the lovely view of the sun fighting its way through as it went from view.
Made my vegetarian meal with care and attention. Boy, I was looking forward to eating this one with baconless bacon, garden peas, seaweed, mushrooms and a vegan lemon dessert.
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As I was collecting the bins to sort into one bag, boy, did
nipped to the wet room Porcelain Throne. Aha, Constipation Konrad was losing his dominance at last. No bleeding either. I considered using the new razor, but in the end, didn’t have a shave. I’ll wait until Ejaz can find time and make sure I don’t break the razor of cut myself. He knows the quirks of this model and ordered it for me last week.
I got the kettle on around 0730hrs and took three photographs of the morning view on offer from the kitchenette window.
on the viewer screen after each take. Back to the computer to load them into CorelDraw.
The intercom rang, and a JS delivery arrived. And I was dead certain that I’d ordered this for next Tuesday, positive, sure, confident I had. It seems I
hadn’t. Still, I got some daffodils for Jenny.
be today’s repetitive items. (I think). I still can’t believe I’d done it again…
ordering and remembering problems. That was last November. I anticipate help will arrive any moment now.
Shelled Kenyan garden peas, & shredded Leicester
Then, what Herr Starmer said about his destruction of the NHS, England in 2026…



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Sister Jane & hubby Pete, many, many years ago.
Seen here checking over my retirement pension details in the kitchen. Hehe! The runt of the litter, very small, delicate, beautiful, friendly, and curious, so curious.
Here is Inchie, with Mr Foooey, Foooey to his fans. The poor thing was nearly blind, deaf and arthritic.


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Sister Jane, seen here, clipping Fooeys ever-growing tufts.
End of my visit, handing Mr Fooey back to Jane.
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Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Errors, Dark, Dank Depression Darius,
kitchen, I saw that the tap was not running. I looked up at the ceiling for signs of incoming water, but there were none. Then the smell hit me, and I felt giddy. I realised then that it was bleach. I looked at where I’d left the 5-litre container of thick bleach, seeing it on the floor, burst open. I thought casually as I recalled then, ‘Well, that’s me in the shit – Again!’
Back to the kitchen and spread some more paper towels to help soak up some of the bleach, left it for a few minutes, then went back to gather what I could into waste bags.
r from the sink to the bucket. The smell got to me again, and I kept feeling a bit giddy. I did this six times in all. I had opened the windows. This snap on the right was how it looked on the fifth attempt. I was in a lot of pain by then. Back, shoulder and a new bruise on my head. As I collected the last of what I could, I had to leave the areas between the cupboards,
the stove, and the fridge; it was just too painful to get down that far.
agoule, all waste-shutting with a few words RIP style proffered as I sent them 12 stories down in the chute, to the big bins below.
r myself, maybe. There was certainly an inkling of self-sympathy lurking in my mind.
cked off at the same time.
Ejaz took a snap of the little bruise on my head for his records at ICC. Then he made some instant mash, cheese with ketchup and sausage for my meal. Not wanting me to get up from 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. He even suggested I don’t move into the bed, rather stay where I am, the effort of climbing into bed he feared would set off the othe
r ailments.
his efforts?
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seemed a little bare.
The end car park mudslide!
Rainy day.
Much-loved by WordPress readers and bloggers is getting-on-a-bit (Doug’s) Andy. Full of character. He’s had a lot of medical treatments, some that scared us, but the lad came through again. Bless Him!
Morning brew.
Ayup, the sunshines out!
Sun on its way now…
A closer shot…
Out a bit…
A final twinkle, as she does fade
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Food Delivery
More sauces?
Did I say it was a rainy morning?
Rainy evening.
Not a good day, but I’m sick of moaning.
A greenish raiony shot of the end car park late on.
This black bean meal, yes, I ate the third of the meals; the others went in the bin. Messy, mess.