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Started a trial of Ezetimibe by the Doctor.
Checked for side effects on the NHS charter,
15 pages of them, I’ve got 10 of them for a starter…
Time for me to become a bequeather?
This all seemed to me to be a lot of bother,
I agreed to the trial; did I make a bloomer?
Changed Virgin Password, done by the Carer,
Tried to use it, to find that it had disappeared,
Virgin, Oligarchs & the NHS I’ve feared…
Putting the NHS in there felt weird…
But they are so busy & underfinanced,
Being admitted is a bit of a misadventure,
I’ll have to get used to this new acculture!
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The confusing call from the apothecary,
Weighed on my mind somewhat heavily,
This all changed; a calamity with the laundry!
Carer went to fetch it, returned to tell me…
It was still soaking wet, and he was sorry,
But the dryer was broken, & very sadly,
He used another one, but he can no longer stay,
So I’ll have to fetch it, unfortunately…
In forty minutes, it should be ready,
With that, to his next call, he had to flee,
With no blame, coming from Inchie,
Concrete proof of my being unlucky!
Had to get dressed, shoes on… feeling dizzy,
All that bending, head spinning, you see,
Set off with Four-wheeled-Walker-Willy,
Down to the laundry room, hastily…
But, taking out the dried laundry,
Losing-Grip-Linda visited me…
Socks, shirts, I dropped so many,
Collecting fallen items went on exacerbatingly,
Bending so often, the head went dizzy…
Back-Pain-Brenda, felt woozy and giddy…
But I got them all in the three-wheeled trolley,
Depression Darius arrived, and I got bitchy,
With the way things were going today,
This Ode was prompted by events yesterday,
To the flat, socks paired, frustratingly…
Colour blindness and Cataract Katie,
Clothes on a hanger, made a mug of tea,
Emptied the catheter of dark coloured pee,
First pain for weeks, from the fractured knee,
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Living with bamboozlement, as a boondoggler,
And frequently, a bit of of a beseecher,
Still hoping that things would get better,
Improve, maybe even to get boshter,
I thought I’d managed well with the Accifaupas…
Not at the time, but maybe later…
But I was not yet out of the wars,
As my mind began to wander…
I had a short, sharp seizure,
Fell, & trapped my arm – I am schadenfreude?
Now I’m feeling even more toeier.
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Preparing for today, to go smoothlier,
It’s about time I had a day go easier…
The catheter-valve leaked; Am I a no-hoper!
I’m tested and tried, but remain a trier.
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I stirred, again, late & reluctantly.
For some reason, I took a snap of the desktop.
Oh, dear, I thought, is it going to be another of those days, as the resulting photo was well below par.
I took another try at it…
Not good, but an improvement.
A delivery arrived from Ocado.
Judging by the comestibles delivered, it must have been made by me. All my favourites were in there.
Including the beetroot, pickled mushrooms, cheesy-topped bread rolls, and a Milk Roll sliced loaf…
The Polish sausages, ham and even more beetroot. Lemon yoghourts and some Sub-Rolls?
And two, not one, bags of baking potatoes?
The scary thing is, I do not need these things. The scarier thing is, I cannot remember making the order, but judging by what arrived, I must have. The third thing that annoys and scares me is the promises of help from the Red Cross, Social Services and Neurologist when I was last in hospital. Well, the lack of anyone contacting me was, like, an insult, I think. Then again, did they actually come to the bedside and say they would provide assistance with my problems? Can I be certain? Did it happen? I genuinely think it did. But…
I am aware that sometimes, especially after a seizure, anything could happen; the aftereffect each time is sheer confusion for a while. Yet I do believe that they said these things, just after the Doctor told me I had had a heart failure. But do not remember anything about being taken from the ward to be resuscitated, as they told me I had, and it is out on my NHS record. As far as I know, I’d just had a seizure and woke up.
Help is not easy to get nowadays. I was so down about things last week, came out-of-it, and have just sunk down into the depths of complete depression & frustration, in equal parts, after writing this bit of the blog. And the realisation that I cannot concentrate on, or solve, any of my worries or stupid, seemingly uncountable or at times unaware of my own actions. It seems like any one day, I can have, or not have, three or four different personalities? Changing so often, as if the brain were stuttering… I see it like a roulette wheel, deciding how I feel next. Without any logical reason identified. Not that I’ve ever played roulette.
Having just read the above passage to spell and grammar-check it, I feel a right whimp… a moaner. I shall try not to moan anymore.
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While the Carer was here, I was talking to him, and a mini-seizure burst forth. He says it was only about a minute long, and I was shaking about with my arms and legs. When I came back, I was almost hanging over the arm of the chair, and had somehow or other, trapped my left arm, cause it hurt. After the Carer departed, I had a look at the arm and took a snap of it, not that it
mattered, no one responds when I sent in any photos to the neurologist anyway… Not moaning, just saying! It looks far worse than it was. In fact, now (Thursday night), it’s no bother at all.
The Carer arrived for the longer session. And set about phoning the Hospital Neurology to find the Doctor’s secretary’s email. Blown if I can recall the result, but I do not have the email on the notepad. So I assume he couldn’t get it for some reason. He did his best.
Then the big farce! Virgin Media!
The Carer arrived and took the laundry down for me. Returned and got the Virgin email opened and showed me what needed doing to change my memorable word, so we could get through to talk to them… or even a robot. That word suits Virgin.
Clever lad, this Carer. Whipped through the stages needed, completing them. It looked easy when someone in the know did it. We went through each Q&A and changed the word. Then he went down to retrieve my laundry, bless him.
While he was down there, I checked the email to see if Virgin had confirmed the new word. Nope. So, after all that work he did, I still can’t get on my Virgin site!
He made a grand effort for me. Not his fault at all. But I was getting all upset about the failures, not to mention the seizure farce.
The lad returned to tell me the clothes were still soaking wet, and the dryer wasn’t working again. He’d put them in the other dryer and told me to go down to collect them in 40 minutes. As he was at the end of his permitted time, the Carer had to rush off. Thanked him and as he left, Depression Darius really got to me, and an anger, a frustration grew within me at failing again.
I was another person, I swore, cursed, and felt like screaming. Not moaning, just saying how it was. I was moaning then, of course.
Now, I had 40 minutes to get my clothes, shirt, jumper, jacket, and shoes. Then get the three-wheeled walker from the balcony. This took up all of the 40 minutes, and the pain of getting me trews on, Humph!
No socks, of course, that is an impossibility for me to do, a step too far. If I genuflect or bend down, Dizzy Dennis and Lost-Balance-Barbara will take the opportunity to have me over.
I left my cell… no, flat, and took the lift down to the laundry room 12 floors below. No one was in the laundry room, and I started taking out the washing and untangling it. Lost-Grip-Gertrude kicked off. By the time I’d emptied the washer of clothes, nine pieces were on the floor. I wished I’d thought to take a picker-upperer with me now (Too late). Amazingly, although there were a couple of times when the giddiness hit me, I didn’t go down.
Then I cleaned the dryer filter, which had not been done in a while.
However, I did take Kodak-Tim-2 down with me. I took some photos to show you of the ground floor foyer, one of the laundry room after I’d left it first.
Laundry Room: the far-right offending drying machine.
Laundry & walker, in the foyer.
The prison’s main foyer doors.
Foyer walls by the seats.
Early Evening Sunset
Frist…
Zoomed in.
Cloud streaks or contrails?
LOVELY JUBBLY!
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The more one cherishes…
Sitting in the sun on your terraces,
Starmer will still raise your taxes,
Gather to resist, bring your axes,
He wants a modern-day Axis,
Trump & Keir, the wiseacres…
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❤ KEEP SAFE – TAKE CARE ❤
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I took two snaps of the early morning view… well, not so early a view. Hehehe! The snow is clearing well. The forecast is for more to come, heavier, late this week. I noted that the same ho
uses as usual had cleared the roofs of snow and ice before anyone else around them. The heat-jump from the attic or loft heaters used to grow Marijuana, mayhaps? Hahaha!
photo from this blog warmed my heart. Three of his cats, posing. Has to be one of the most appealing ones this year. I can almost hear what they were thinking. Their ears were up, so maybe Tim was talking to them? They were giving him the ‘Watch-it’ eye?
The intercom rang while I was in the wet room. It was the Asda order, with my potatoes for the meal, and Jenny’s instructions on how to cook them. I got the fodder sorted straight away. Taking some photographs of the fodder. Not that I was having any luck on the Porcelain Throne anyway. Rock solid! Even no farting this time.
Some good stuff was delivered today. Veg in vinegar, veg salad with peas. Lacto-free milk, expensive but lovely, I treat myself sometimes. A little pork pie this time. I ate the giant Christmas pork pie in one sitting. Guilt? Me? Yes!
I got a quick ablutipn session in, no use of the Porcelain Throne. Then took two shots from the balcony through the glass. After taking this photograph, I
espied some youths at the far end of the car park. I don’t know what they were up to, but yet again I took a poor snap of them, just in case anything was amiss or suspicious
Later on…
Laterer on…
Even laterer on…



I think, well, I know, I was having a seizure in bed, with the strangest dream, that I recall little of; apart from me watching the missiles land, as I (in the dream) stood at the kitchen window, yodelling. Seemingly unconcerned with what I was watching? Then I woke up to find Carer Ejaz standing over me, asking how I was. I recall his helping me get out of bed after he’d taken off the nocturnal catheter bag… then nothing for several or more minutes.
Aha, caught the moon!
Which house shows its attic
Not a good one…
A bit better, caught the moon!
See the drug growers’ roof?
Front car park on Citrus Way.
Through the door glass.
Side of bed bin…
Must get the new keyboard




I was up, removed the nocturnal catheter bag, did my balance exercises & made the bed; all before 06:30hrs.
A very high in the sky moon was allowed through as the clouds thinned. I returned to fetch the Kodak Tim-2 camera and went back to the kitchenette to try for some decent shots of the moon. The top was a classic Inchie result; somehow, I made the moon oval. Tsk! These cond & third efforts were a little better. Even with one eye, I could see the crevices on the moon. Sadly, they did not appear in the photographs. I did my best, but it just wasn’t good enough. Failure comes regularly. Tsk!
This morning, the visit to the Porcelain Throne went very similarly to yesterday’s. But this time, there were no 

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Today’s moods varied greatly. Changing so often, I didn’t know how the heck I was supposed to feel sometimes.
My language was coarse, of course.
I brewed a pot of tea and sat by the computer, taking this photo. I heard Ejaz as he left, saying I’m behind time. And noticing he said this around 08:00hrs. Later, when I put the picture on, I realised that I must have been in the wet room for just under three hours! No wonder I don’t wash often, I can’t find the time between Carers calling. Then with food deliveries. Emptying the day bag. Check calls, telephone calls, emails, and calls of nature. The nurses will do the legs and change the catheter. INR Warfarin blood tests. Hospital appointments, Dentist checks. How do I find time to do the blog? I stay up into the morning, mainly to catch up. Being deaf, Cataract Katie is back again. Lymphorrea Leslie, Fractured Knee Frank, Bad Back Belinda, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Toothache Tiffany, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Doreen Dementia, Obstructive Hydrocephalus (water on the brain), and Reflux Roger, Mechanical Aorta Alan. Not to mention the Seizures… Oh, I just did. Hahaha!
A close-up of the City Hospital
City Hospital in the distance.
Bit of nothingness here, (I’m good at that.
Sundown, early this time of year.
2 hours later, what colouring!
Wow!
I double-clicked, Tsk!
I enjoyed this one!
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I did get some photos done, though.
grip. Why? Yesterday was such a pleasure, too.
I got the computer started, and took a snap of it for some reason, I left the flash on and caught it on the photograph. This would not have bothered me in the slightest bit if it had happened yesterday. But it wrangles me, and although impossible, I know, cause he’s not real. He is in my neurologically-affected mind, but I imagined that
I’m getting irked, nettled, piqued, narked, and even disturbed at the slightest thing that goes, or to be precise, that I do wrong.
I took another snap from the window. To my right, that didn’t cheer me up either. The state of the poor tree copse, the jobboes have been at it again.
About midday, I got the computer on. And a Carer called as I took this snap, hearing aids and batteries, vaseline, heart-failure shot if needed, olive oil for the ears, drops for the eyes, Toothache Tiffany spray, and with the ‘Cool’ clock-calendar on view.
Back to start on the computer. Launched CorelDraw, and began to upload piccies from Koak Tim 2’s SD card…
Late afternoon.
I made another brew of Extra-strong Typhoo tea.
I was pleased with the shot I took from the kitchen window. Came out well this time, for a change. About time I made a decent job of taking a snap.
down. Another reasonable shot. This effort turned out okay. Then, as I served it up, I decided to try for a third in a row decent photo of the meal.
So much for going for a hat-trick. What a horrible outcome for all my efforts.
Came late, but he was precious!
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Not so many explosions this year, and what few that I could, against those I missed, indicate that my luck is not about to get any better. Haha!.
Kept missing the big ones. Humph!
Made a few artistic ones.
Not that I meant to.
Just caught one this time.
Not too bad.
Well…
Ayhup! Caught some!
Afternoon shot.
Half an hour later.
Half an hour later.
Close up that caught the
Perhaps the best one?
The last one of this session.
Part of the prepped food for mixing nosh.
As you can see, it was a good snap, even for me.
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No hot water, I left the tap running again.
I asked the Carer to apply a fresh plaster cast to the ankle. The toenails and under toes were nasty all day & night. Hobbling about a bit.
Got carried away with the word listings again.
Pulled myself belatedly back to blogging.
Late snap.
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were in there that I needed to use, and kicked off doing the ablutionalising.
barrier cream out, I creamed the man-breasts and genital periphery near the overhanging stomach. Tsk!
this today. After Carer Ejaz had looked after me and departed, I went to take a snap of the same view as earlier. It was a little brighter now. I wish that I were. Hehehe! 
It’s getting dark again. The mist is still there on the horizon. The lights are coming on, and you may be pleased to know that
Ejaz made the afternoon call. He seemed in a good mood. Bless him. In a rush, mind you. He’s got a schedule to keep.