Vascular Dementia Doreen

Inchy Today: Tuesday 15th April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Inchie: You’re not listening to me!
Inchy: Well, I’m having a pee…
Rollocks, you can’t manually pee!
But I can empty the catheter manually!
Only if yer pouch ain’t fell below yer knee…
Then yer can’t reach it, only painfully!
If I’m you, and you say you’re me,
Why is yer always acting sarcastically?
Well, I stuck with you mentally;
No need for you to act temperamentally!
Sorry, it’s been another bad day, yer see
You don’t expect me to act amiably?
There must be some points on which we agree.
I’ve got Doreen Dementia in here with me!
And you, too, just as alarmingly!
She makes me act absentmindedly,
I’ve got her for life, intrinsically,
Playing with my mind’s psychoactivity,
She’s given me Peripheral Neuropathy!
Yes, she’s cruel, she inspires me…
Inspires you! With her psychoactivity?
She taught me jealousy & perversity!
And how to correctly use pomposity,
Then where did you get your piosity?,
The same place you got your absurdity.
Always had it; it comes naturally.
And your nastiness, and pugnacity?
I’ve had them since my birth in 2015 BC.
2015 BC? How come you ended up with me?
When your current brain dies, we float away,
To Grim Reaper Land ostensibly,
We get a new brain-lodgings for free,
Move in, if assessed okay? Then permanently,
Until they near death, which is you currently,
You’re really in antemortem, pre-autopsy.
Oh, then I’ll die owing money?
What’s yer biggest debt fundamentally?
£1,566 behind, and I need to pay my electricity fee.
How did you get £1,566? That’s a lot of money! 
Herr Starmer to blame mostly…
Ah, I understand, you’ve my sympathy.
No need to be gloomy or for any negativity,
You’ll likely die today while making your tea.
How is that supposed to cheer me?
You won’t have to pay for your electricity!
Oh, yeah. I can see clearly,
All part of life’s declivity!
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Catch-up from last night.
Vegetable stew with a sausage, some Gung-Po sauce added and extra gravy for the first time ever.
I had it in for a while and could not find a sell-by date, but it didn’t smell off. It tasted lovely. The Morrisons part-baked rolls were oven-cooked, and they tasted nice, well over-dunked in the liquid first. 
I could not read the contents of the Gun Po, but I tasted water chestnuts in it. When Carer ‘Joe’ called later, he confirmed no water chestnuts were in the ingredients. But whatever was in there, I liked it. I’ll try them again with the Bulgarian beans and sausage tinned meal.

I noted the strange mini-clouds that looked like gate tops above the yellow & in the grey.
They look like shark fins in this one.
Love to know how this happened.


A lousy night’s kipping again. Ever waking up.
I tried my best to stay asleep, but it was no good. So at 06:00hrs, I rose from the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and mused over what needed to be done. Then, I decided to get the ablutions and medications done first, hoping to catch up on some sleep later.

I must have taken these two shots of the view from the kitchenette; they were on the SD.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching a bit of the balcony.

They didn’t go so well today.
Five cuts shaving. Dropped the olive oil bottle while sucking up some liquid. The Porcelain Visit took seconds, Trotsky Terence style, but it took ages to clean up afterwards. What a mess; I’ll not say where, but embarrassment ensued.

Carer Ahmed arrived. Socks, medications, and he found I’d left the hot tap running again! Argh!
Good job that I had an early clean-up & shave.

MARATHON SEIZURE
I WAS DOING SO WELL MEDICALLY AS WELL
I came out of it so confused. I’d done a little on the blog and made a mess of most of what I’d done.
I had to stop for a while to get my head together. Well, as together as it’s ever going to get. I fear I was out of things for several hours. I think I was; maybe I’d fallen asleep? I doubt it because I felt worn out after a while, which I hadn’t before the episode. I hope the Doctor rings soon. This one was not good.

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. He had a mask on and a cough and sore throat—so did I. It was a short visit during which he assessed the contents of the Gung-Po sauce. I forgot to ask him for some Peptac.

A food order arrived that I worryingly can’t recall ordering at all.
Six bags.
Cake shop & cobs. Cakes for Carer ‘Joe’ in thanks.
More cakes for Jenny & Frank… and me!
And the ice cream cones. Slurp!
A few other bits.

Then I called to see if Jennie and Frank were at home and took some treats down for them. They tell me off, but they are so good to me. Bless them both.

NOW A SCARY MINI-SEIZURE
I was stood up when I went into it.
I felt myself going and sat down.
What felt like two minutes later,
I seemed to come round.
Crikey, was I in a state. Balance gone,
hazy-minded. Within minutes, I was
back to how I was earlier.
Mind-Bogglingly Confusing!

As I write this, about four hours later, the seizures have stopped completely. (Give them time.)

I’m going to make an early meal, see how I feel.
Lamb burgers, methinks! 
Then, I will see if I can catch up on some sleep again.
I’m off to cook the burgers now.

More Tomorrow…
Including the Lamburger Feast!
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TTFN
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Inchy: Monday 14th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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THE HAZE/HASH OF OUR HMG!
I faced adversity catastrophes, indomitably,
Searching for success, I found extinction,
Been shot, heart attack & bankruptcy,
Recognised politicians showed prevarication,
They rule unreliably and lyingly…
Take backhanders with pretension,
Reliable? Each one is a proletariat’s liability,
Growing their wealth in HMG’s pantheon!
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Starmer lines his pockets, carefreely,
Lie, steal from pensioners, Scot-freely!
Prices are rising for food, gas & electricity,
Keir does it all so perfunctorily, blasély,
Surely, he’s an under-the-bed Tory?
His price rises show his peccability,
The voters he scoffs at dismissively,
Proletariats get poverty and penury!
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Who voted for him, primarily plebian…
Realise now, it shouldn’t have been,
He’s mendacious, criminal, immoral & mean!
Keir’s term in office: a trial by ordalian,
Starmer got 3m votes, fewer than Corbyn,
Still enough to give him a win,
That was due to the Tory’s suiciding,
Citizens’ fears are accumulating!
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His lies, there’s not been an investigation,
He shows no signs of any opprobrium,
A man of obfuscation and deception,
No prosecution, just mystification…
Civil Service & HMG are both crooked,
Their guilt, either hidden or resolved,
Most of what they’ve done, I anticipated,
Starmer should be sacked & becudgelled!
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He claims to be a necessitarian,
I think that he’s Machiavellian!
Ill-conceived, ill-advised, & misbegotten,
There’s no hope, no pharma-conation,
As he strangles voters of the Nation,
I’m not saying he’s a pigwidgeon…
Nor a patrician, but a man on a mission,
To take backhanders & make commission!
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He’s worthy of, and gets my derision,
Mayhap the Lord’s resurrection…
Along with our citizens quiritation…
Can bring about, Starmer’s retrogression,
Force him into his own rescission?
Free us of Keir, the self-rhetorician?
Give him a thorough scrutinisation,
But of course, this will not happen!
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CATCH UP
Owing to my plans to get a wash and sit-down when the fatigure-fell yesterday teatime, I got nowt done on the computer again for the rest of the night.
I thought I’d fall asleep and get a few hours in before the last Carer’s call, then restart doing the blog.

Instead, I had God knows how many mini-seizures but no actual sleep. Three hours later, Carer Ahmed arrived. Said I was, sitting there mumbling to myself and breathing heavily, with my eyes open. Once I got up, I felt so drained. I nearly fell back down again. But Ahmed was as quick as a flash and stopped me from plumping back into the 1966, £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 got my diabetic socks off my feet, issued the medications and checked the taps and oven for me. After the lad left, 
I went to the kitchen to make a meal. Boy, was I tired out and drained.
I took these fantastic puffer cloud shots.

Minced beef with black beans.
Some seasoned unskinned chips.
Lovely!
A cornet of ice cream afterwards. I’d made
too much again. Well, not much!
But at least I didn’t spill any.
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How can one be so drained and tired but not get to sleep? Horrible night. Forever jumping awake within minutes of the odd nodding off’s that I got.
I gave up and got up at 05:00hrs.
Sorted the waste bins. Then the big task began.
What a session. There is no other word for it. Great!
A cutless shave, absences of , , , & . I’ll add  because she did not kick off until later.

The medicationalising was not too bad, but no worse than of late. Until, of course, it came to the last task, ointmentating and rubbing it in poor suffering . I creamed where I could reach of the ribs & backs  . Again, I could not get those on my back. I’ll ask the Carer if he can help when he arrives. At least I have a good stock of new barrier cream in the drawer. 
I must have taken longer than I thought on these tasks. As I got the PPS on without much of a struggle, I’d like to add, and was getting the Kagoule on, the Carer Ahmed arrived.

Ahmed was on good form this morning. Medications were issued, and my diabetic socks were fitted. 
He then applied barrier cream to my back and ribs, using the last of the old tubes of Derma Cream. Achmed liked doing this job and was good at it. He then sprayed the glaucoma spray on my eyes for me. I’ll call him Dr. Ahmed from now on. Hehehe! He asked for another local accent word, and I gave him ‘Kip’ for a sleep or nap. I’ve given one a day for a few days. The first was ‘Tara” for cheerio. He said he had used it with other clients this morning, and they loved it. Hearing that cheered me up. Yesterday, it was ‘Aye-Up.’ I think the other one was ‘Midduck’. No, that one’s for tomorrow.

Ahmed took a photo of me with a Kodak-Tim-1.
He’d drawn the curtains, knowing how the sunlight affects Glaucoma Gladys.
He thought I looked like a Mafia Boss. Haha!

I grafted away on the Ode making and got it finished.
Then, I updated and posted the Sunday blog. During the morning, I took these snaps from the kitchen.
The shadows from the rising sun from the back of the flats made some of them enjoyable.
The painted houses. If not, I might not see them.
My block of flats’ shadow in this one.
Took later.

Carer “Joe” arrived. He did a grand job of helping again, bless him. He rang the surgery to see if I could get an appointment for any Wednesday, his more extended visit laundry day. 3rd on the waiting list. Got through and he tried his best, but the earliest Wednesday might be 4 weeks wait, and he wasn’t sure if the Doctor could fit it in for the times that Joe was here. Chances were getting dimmer. I suggested that perhaps she could give me a call at home. Yes, but not on a Wednesday. I ended up with her ringing on Monday the 28th between 10 & 11:45hrs. In 14 days. Going well for the NHS, innit? We had to agree; there was no other choice, had we?

Computing was going very slow today.

Carer “Joe” returned to the first evening call. Again, he helped out no end. He called the chemist and arranged for the medications to be sent to his company’s chemist for collection. I’m lost with all these changes. Thank heavens for Carer “Joe”!

It’s already 20:00hrs gone. I’ll make a meal and try to catch up in the morning.

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Fare Thee All Well!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 13th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle!
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05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute.
This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk!
Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .

I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.

Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to Med Hydrhelp when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem!
I got the pain gel cream on   and .

Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!

Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles?
Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.

I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. 
However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?

Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!)
The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.

Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever

I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever.
It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.

Never got back on the computer again today.
I’ll try to catch up tomorrow.
Not good this.
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All The Best, Folks!

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Inchy Today: Thursday 10th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I was once a young, fit, healthy, wise-guy
Girls? I kept out a watchful eye,
With my lower regions, I know not why,
It was harder then, with no wi-fi.
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Life then started to become stunted,
The body aged, it became transfigured,
My sense of balance, weaved & wobbled,
My thoughts came oddly technicoloured.
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Ageing makes you crocheted & crusted,
Arithmophobia, dates, figures & numbers…
Mistakes galore, you feel daunted,
Mental capacity, slowly degenerated!
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After Toileting, the room must be fumigated,
Constipation? Teeth need to be gritted!
Facts, figures? Are at best guesstimated,
Decision making? Wrongly, not at all, or belated,
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Instructions not understood, misinterpreted,
In conversations, words can be misheard,
Burning food, taps left on, safety neglected,
Leg lesions medicated and bandaged daily medicated and bandaged,
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Living in a crime-filled neighbourhood,
No help with the computer – I spit blood!
Impossible to get life orchestrated,
No confidence can be radiated!
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Feeling defeated, doubted, rejected,
All I write needs to be repeatedly subedited,
Self-disgust, self-taunted, vision tinted,
Fears & worries are now ever accessed!
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Dark Dank Duncan Depressed,
Labour in power, as antisocialists,
Starmer, the bleakest Conservatist!
I hope death brings peace and rest,
If so, I’ll be so blessed!
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I had much better sleep in the bed last night.
The problem was, I think I’d had nocturnal seizures, possibly. Because the quilt and covers were all over the place, and the pillow was on the floor. Somehow, I’d changed the settings on the bed mover control. It’s hard to believe how I slept at all. I was right at the top of the bed, yet bent forward so much, with a dip halfway down the bed, and the end and top bits raised to the maximum.
I woke up at 05:00. By the time I’d refigured the bed to a faux semi-comfortable position, ready for use tonight or in the morning, it was 06:00- Tsk!
Here I go again, sensing some challenges may present themselves to me this Thursday. Everything was normal, then! Tsk!

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I detached the night pouch from the day pouch. I was so concerned with the state of the bed. I didn’t realise the night bag was even on. What’s more, I didn’t have any fauxpas, trips or leaks for the hour when the pouch dragged along, entangling itself around my foot and leg!
Now I was concerned! How did I manage that?
I fear I can only put it down to one thing… are you ready for this?… Good Luck! Now, I don’t say that very often. Especially after the Carer helped me out yesterday. He did a grand job for me. Questions for any God, philosopher or neurologist: Is my luck changing for the better? Will I cope with the shock, or have another stroke? Why did good luck wait nearly 80 years to appear? Will I live long enough to enjoy it? Will it continue? (It didn’t.) Can I get NHS instruction on how to be contented? Hahaha!

Starting with a visit to the .
I was back in control. But once the chunks started evacuating, it took a while for them to stop clunking into the water below. 
More than yesterday’s big dollop!

A stand-up wash. I didn’t have time to shower in case either the nurses or the Iceland delivery came earlier. I strip washed, soaking the feet as I shaved and did the teggies, then moved on to the self-medicating of my problematic areas. Argh! 
Olive-oiled the ears, sprayed MedPhorpainthe eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees and cartilages, and ointmentated each Acne and eczema area. As usual, I left the most painful bit to the end.
I gritted my teeth, cleaned as instructed, heroically pulled the skin back, and squeezed the ointment in a drop. That was bad enough, but I had to massage it from the outside each time. Self-imposed agony! But it was nothing to a man of my calibre, heroism and upper pain limit. I may even have been singing to myself as I massaged it in.

When I turned on the computer, I realised I had a fair bit to do on yesterday’s blog.
It had been the busiest day for years!

As I was making a start, Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. I didn’t ask him to take the socks off cause they were not put on last night. Haha! Maybe I could join a touring fairground group as their Memory Man? Har-har! 
My medications were issued. The lad said something about what he planned to do next week in flats the clean-up campaign.

I pressed on with the blog, but then it got busy again. The delivery came.
Seven carrier bags worth.
I got the fresh stuff away.
4 items unavailable & 2 substitutions.
Topped up the nurses & carers shelf with the new Pepsi flavours that came.
A well-overfilled filled top cupboard.
The danger of falling through the floor into the flat below the cupboard of cans of food. I shouldn’t starve to death for a month or two! Hehe!
Why did I stock up to ridiculous? What made me suddenly panic so over food stores? Am I going mad?
I’m not sure if it’s Peripheral Neuropathy, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Ménière’s disease, Episodic Ataxia, FND, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Diabetic Dementia, Absence seizures, or the Myoclonic seizures that may have caused this stupider-than-usual action on my behalf. Would doing such activities that I’ve not done for so long, like cleaning up, wear me out?

I managed to get the blog posted a little later than usual. And the fatigue started to fall.

THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY!
The intercom rang, and I thought it might be the tinned food I’d also ordered from Amazon.
Life lifted, and a smile came over my craggy, aged face. (It does that occasionally).
It was my treasured Hristina, the DVT Warfarin Blood Nurse. The heart beat a little faster, and my Angel was soon in the flat.
I mentioned that I’d run out of Enoxaparin-filled hypos. She said if they need you to start stabbing your stomach 8 times a day, they will ensure you get some. That put my mind at rest. She took the blood for testing, and we spoke of something else, but with my heart beating and eyes so busy watching and listening to Hristina—such a wonderfully calming person and so kind. 🤎

I started this blog in the late afternoon.

Then, the Amazon tinned foods arrived!
I then had to store these tinned meals on the floor!
It’s horrible having a lack of control!

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived and was as aghast as I was at the canned food I bought! No medications were needed. They were, but I forgot to ask for the Peptac and Codeine. I managed to make a brew of tea, and when I got back with it, one of the regular patches was in the regular place on the carpet. Yet I could not find any urine spillages on my legs or slippers. One of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, Starmer robbing all we pensioners, and other Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, logicalty and depressions!

Carer ‘Joe’ came on his teatime visit.
Embarrassingly, the pee-time one as well, haha!
He convinced me that it was not urine because there was no smell. He suggested that I may have spilt the catheter, which needed spring water.
He’s got the measure of me now, he has! Hehe! 

Back to this blog. The eyes faded, and the fatigue returned almost instantly. I was so tired and weary.

I foolishly tried to continue this blog. It was farcical and hopeless, so I gave up. So, I’ll be even further behind by morning. Humph!
I’ll try to stay alert enough to get the comments & WordPress reader read.
I’ll make the meal later.

Aha! I caught the sunset.
Not as good as yesterdays’

But fair for me.

I was expecting a last Carer call, but it’s 21:40hrs now.
I’ve probably got confused. Yes, I think I did. Fool!
Carer ‘Joe’ came a little earlier than usual. I’ve just seen the nocturnal catheter pouch on the chair.
I can’t cope with my decline very well. Tsk!

I’ll get the food in the microwave. I made it up in the tray earlier, so it should be ready in the oven in ten minutes. It consists of minced beef in gravy, sliced water chestnuts, pickled beetroots, red onions, tomatoes, garden peas, and a can of potatoes. It is also seasoned with vinegar, Worcester Sauce, and thick sliced bread for dunking. I hope it all goes well. I’ll let you know in the morning!

Good Moring!
The meal looked and smelled amazing!
I made too much. But ate ¾ of it.
NICE!
Into 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, to watch a nature documentary. I’m glad to say that I didn’t get to see it.
This was due to my drifting off to sleep.
There were far too many waking-ups, but I did get back off quickly each time. 
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Keep Smiling! Or, not like. Hehehe!
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Inchy: Tuesday, 8th April 2025

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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Helpful Note: A shilling was 12d=1/ – now 5p

In my morning slumber, I started musing,
Back to the day when things were amusing,
1963, when sliced bread went up to a shilling,
The reaction of the shoppers were chilling,
They brought some; some they were stealing,
A near riot, on price-rise day proceedings,
Last week, the loaf cost me £1 – shocking!
This week, £1.49! Not reassuring!
Maybe I’ll take up shoplifting.

The monthly cost for gas & electricity…
I’m back talking again of 1963,
Cost 15/- the equivalent then to 75p,
Last month, my payment went up to £423!
Starmer’s stopped our winter fuel subsidy,
Not enough cash for price rises absorbability,
Proletariats, pensioners now in poverty,
Rates, rents, power, costs rising steeply,
Our NHS crumbles, pleasing the oligarchy.

Forcing some to turn to crime, effectively
Eat or heat, food banks, charities competing,
A diet of bread & water? It’s called Xerophagy,
At today’s price of bread & water, it’s alarming!
Families, children and the aged geriatrically,
Is Starmer not aware of the voters’ suffering?
Go shopping today, do it vigilantly,
They’ll be muggers, pickpockets lurking,
Nutters, looking to act adversarially.
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Hand Washing.
I’m fed up with this!

Ankles, lower legs much clearer today.

Afternoon kitchen shot.,
THe ankles started the electric shock going later.
Carer Ahram out some cream on and leg bandage,
I can take it off Wed’ when the nurse arrives.

Sorry, not much on today; it’s been a borrowing Tuesday. The prospects for Wed & Thursday are worse than today. I’m not sure of the days, but between Wed & Thursday:
Nurse Caroline ♥ Is calling to do another upgraded Dementia Test.
A DVT Nurse ♥ is calling for extra blood for further tests. The Warfarin INR is dangerously low at 1.6.
The district nurse ♥ is calling to check on my leg lesions and the acne-eczema.
The Urology Nurse ♥ is due to visit to alternate the catheter bag.
I’ve got two deliveries expected between noon and 22:00 hours. Medical & food.
Carer ‘Joe’ is doing the laundry. After that, I have to get the two airers out to dry the washing.

It is late Wednesday morning now.
I’m not looking forward to today.

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TTFN
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Inchy: Friday 4th April 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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Be aware that in indiscretion,
You may get a mental collision,
Which can cause self-derision,
Messing up your neurotransmission,
And, without your permission!
Ailments have no obluctation,
You feel that they get oblectation,
You visit your neurosurgeon…
Is life a pseudo-hallucination?
All of our lives are in regression,
You’ve lost your retrocognition,
PN, DVT, no prognostication,
Pharmageddon via your medication?
First Diarrhorea, & next constipation,
Confidence dies, feeling a pigwidgeon,
You think your brain’s an odditorium,
And life has got to be ordalian,
Do you feel different? Quotidian?
Is your social life in desolation?
Struggling with conceptualisation?
Are you livelier, antemeridian?
At noon, do you feel weather-beaten?
Do you get afternoon exhaustion?
Is tea-time your kipping season?
In bed, you can’t sleep for some reason?
Is mental fatigue the causation?
Or is it your body’s erosion?
Does the world seem dystopian?
Suffer from sanitary & sanity deterioration?
This is often just an old-age condition,
Do you think an interruption, a disruption?
Have you yet visited a psychometrician?
Does Earth need a reconceptualisation?
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Don’t expect a new life to be utopian!
Holidaying in the toilet or the Caribbean?
Has life been riddled with Damnification?
Was it spent in the lower echelon?
Do you suffer self-expostulation?
Do you know Earth’s nearing extinction?
This is not a joke or effutiation…
On this, I stake my reputation,
Do you feel an antiquarian?…
Well, don’t; it might cause acerbation!
It’s now time for an epiphenomenon,
Use your brain & nervous system…
Admit your guilt, write a eulogium,
Shout from Earth’s highest fastigium,
Humankind’s end is undoubtedly not an illusion,
We’ll all be free of intimidation…
Wars, murders, Oligarchs, every politician,
The greed, hatred and the odium,
Dead, we’ll all be egalitarian!
No way get a world-peace installation,
Well, this is my prediction…
It won’t bear too much contradiction…
Life’s events timewise, socialisation…
Birth, drugs, sex, physician, mortician,
Even if this gives you the impression…
That I’m suffering from depression!
It’s good to see the back of discrimination!
I believe this is mostly speculation…
Of course, it’s all theorisation,
Moulded to bring frivolity & jollification!
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05:20hrs: I rose fumblingly from the hospital bed, trapping the nocturnal catheter bag on the remote bed adjuster, and gave Little Inchie a hell of a tug. This started Inchies’s fungal lesion bleeding; it bled on the quilt, down my leg, and onto the carpet. 
After I sorted out the mess, I went to the wet room to empty and wrap the catheter pouch that had been removed.
After months without a stubbed toe, I gave myself a second one in two days, on the same ingrowing toenail, as yesterday.
Then, I took a regulation photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window. Well, I got two.
This is one of a man and his dog walking into the tree copse over the road, the dog’s tail wagging furiously. A double dose of jealousy affected me. Haha! First, I wished I had a cat or dog for company; second, I missed my beloved, unable to do a daily walk through the copse. (Feeling a smidgeon sorry for myself now.)

Luckily, next, I had just nipped into the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running and found  again. I’d run out of the cortisone cream. So I cleaned it and used some of the Germolene instead. Then, I returned to the kitchen and took another photograph of the broad view on offer.
Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd’s warning!

A bit of a marathon this morning. Bled a little more, I tipped over the bowl I was putting on the floor to stand in while shaving. Bending down to clear up the mess, and
flowed again! I finished shaving and got the PPs on.
I also touched up the Fungal Lesion, using the acne & eczema cream this time. I’d searched the medication drawers and found a partly filled tube of a different name. But it had a use-by date on it of… Hard to believe, I know, that it’s November 2019!

Carer Joe did the first call. I forgot to mention that Friday was the change-the-catheter bag day.

I booted the computer, an spent the nexy three hours farting about trying to get the photos to save to file. I did the first four, and there was no problem. Then it stopped saving. The usual cCleaner routine; I had to do it six times today! That didn’t help. So, I turned everything off and back on again. That proved an idiotic thing to do, well, not that actually, but forgetting to save the ode I was partway through writing was stupid!

At least it wasn’t so bad—up until now, anyway. Things took a dip after the young girl Carer called on her visit.  
I was still trying to sort out CorelDRAW and the photos, and a series of kicked off that stayed on and off for a good three hours. This threw me out altogether. With my concentration gone, I managed to get some photos backed up later, but I had to delete the ones used and replace them with the new ones, so to put it. Now, the only copies left are on WordPress, and they can’t be copied or saved for use on the blog or email. I’m not sure if I was heartbroken, frustrated, or I was momentarily leaning towards suicidal.freezer 08When the Iceland order arrived, I only took one photo of the whole fridge. I didn’t bother taking more because I knew the chances of using them lay within the corrupt power of my old, in-need-of-help, ailing, terminally ill computer.
I got some stuff I can’t remember ordering. And somehow I believed I’d ordered some tinned baked beans and tomatoes, none came. It will be better when Carer Joe starts helping with the food ordering. I can’t be relied on, know it, and am incapable of anything that involves numbers, dates, concentration or logic. 

The Social Services lady rang to ask how the new Carers were doing. Last week, I wondered if there was any chance of help getting me out shopping rather than the mistake-ridden online routine. The Carer said his boss said no chance. But the Social Lady told me they are giving me an extra hour (Still got to pay for, of course) for domestic and/or shopping assistance. Going slowly senile is a horrible thing, cause you know it, don’t want it, and can do nothing about it. I suppose it’s a little bit like my sex life, nonexistent. Hehehe!

Carer Ahram made the last two calls. He was in a good mood, bless him. The communication was complex, but I like the lad. When she rang, I told the Social lady that he’s likeable and willing. Without Carer Joe, I might have cracked up last week. His help was invaluable to me. 

I did notice that when someone came and I put in the repaired hearing aids, I could hear the wall clock ticking and other sounds I could not recognise. Haha!

By the time I finished the meal, it was past midnight. Three oven-baked bacon cobs. This is a terrible photo. I wish I had not bothered with taking it now! Getting this onto the blog took me over two hours in the morning! Saturday’s blog will be a smidge bland. I just can’t keep spending all this time getting the photos saved to file. As usual, the first two went on without a bother. The rest must have taken me hours and hours of repeated failed tries. This can’t go on. I openly beg someone to help me with the computer, please?
The trouble is that I can no longer understand written instructions and don’t know any computer jargon, and I get more confused.
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
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A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
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I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
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Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
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I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
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WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025
I had even fewer jumping awakes last night.
Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.

After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today.
Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did.  
A good job that he remembered!

The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.

I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.

I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker.
I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!

A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe!
An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford.
I went inside the waiting room and waited. 
But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!

I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me.
I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep!
At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t.
But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.

There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.

He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of.
Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.

Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something Wrong Here!

I pressed on with the day’s blog.

Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!

Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.

I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.

Back in the morning, I hope.

Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast…
Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…

I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again!
Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room.
The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!

I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it.
I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.

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Thanks everyone!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 1st April 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I’ve no claims to anything academical,
I’m interested in anything apodeictical,
Like the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle,
Some claim that he used to hit the bottle,
I used to drink a lot, being self-critical,
The only trait we share? Being alcoholical,
But I can auger, but not astrological,
My success rate is astronomical,
I see this world is not ameliorable,
I know why Starmer is amerceable,
Takes backhanders, is unprosecutable,
His promises are agathokakological,
His cohorts are also not punishable,
As they appease the Oligarchical,
I seek words that are encourageable,
Proletariats are now extirpable…
MP’s morals uncouth, aethereal,
They lie, seek self-profit & teazle,
HMGs are foxy, furtive, deceitful,
Slithery, snidey, sidestepping, hurtful,
They should be accusable and arrestable,
Indeed, are they executionable?
Has HMG been proven unreliable?
Who takes over? That’s questionable!
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I had the usual broken sleep, but at least this time, it was broken far fewer times, and I got four½ and a half hours! I was too late to complete the ablutions before the Asda delivery arrived. 
I collated the things that I needed to take to the Audio Clinic and visited the Porcelain Throne. It was a messy! Trotsky Terence affair.

06:20hrs: I checked emails to confirm the timing of the order. 0700 > 0800hrs.

So, I got the computer to start this blog. Soon kicked off, as is typical when I am in a ‘feeling the pressure mode’ over the clinic lifts and appointments. Foggy-Brained!

GC Trolley indoorsI’m not sure when the Caregiver will arrive, but I hope he will be here for the delivery to help get it in. Then I can store it away. And get on with the hurried ablutions, medicalisationings, and risky job of getting the trousers on. I’ll get the things to take into the three-wheel-wheeled-walker while I think of it.
I must get down in the lobby at 10:30hrs so as not to miss the lift, which may come early or late, depending on how many others they have to pick up and drop off en route.

The carer arrived as I was taking in the Asda food.
After I’d got all the bags in the kitchen, I joined the Caregiver, who put the medications and socks on. Then, as I was going out, I asked him to help me put on the trousers and shoes.

Pretty colours this morning

Asda delivery

Ready-made meals (Almost)

I got the Carer’s & Nurses nibbles & drinkies topped up on the table and cabinet.

The computer stopped allowing me to upload photos. I had to delete the few I’d not put on and clean the drive with cCleaner again. I’ll try later when I get back from the Audio Clinic. That was the plan!

It was a heck of a rush getting the stand-up wash, shave, and medications done. I flapped a bit, getting all the paperwork and the list of things I needed to take with me. I checked the EasyLink lift.

On the way down to the foyer to await the lift, I dropped some bits off in appreciation of the help Jenny and Frank have so often given me on their floor. I went down in the lift, worrying if I’d forgotten to take anything. I got seated in the chair and got the camera out as I checked the bag of things in the trolley-walker. 10:15hrs, plenty of time.
They have replaced the stolen wall clock. It has fancy smaller figures, but I’d had my wristwatch on.

Almost straight away, I found myself fighting off the closing eyelid. The tiredness and fatigue were back!
I’m sure I nodded off momentarily a good few times. But at least when the driver comes to the foyer door, she/he will see me even if I’d nodded off.
But the frequency worried me; I really was struggling to stay awake. Likely it was the comfort of the chair that I wasn’t used to, having to use the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner.

I was concerned that I may have nodded for a little longer than I thought; I may have missed the driver from EasyLink. Guilt raised its ugly head.
I waited until I should have been starting the appointment, realising that I must have made a faux pas or they had trouble getting a driver. Not knowing, I decided to believe that I must have made a Whoopsiedangleplop. And  ! This turned me swiftly into a curmudgeonly grump!
I walked along the connecting passageway to Winwood Court in case they (EasyLink) called at the wrong block of flats. Nope!
Back misrably to the flat amidst the depression, self-lambasting, and the catheter bag getting overfull!

I sorted out the waste from the earlier delivery and got the bags down the waste chute.

I decided to prep the meal for the microwave later: Colcanon mash, minced beef, gravy, carrots, peas, and water chestnuts. I put it in the fridge. I also turned on the computer to keep this blog up to date. I hoped the phone would ring to clarify whatever mistake I’d made. It did!

Frustrated, Depressed & Self-Loathing…
CONFUSED! – HAD ENOUGH!
I can’t take any more of these problems!
ARITHMAPHOBIA TO BLAME, this time!

What happened, as I see it.

The pleasant lady from EasyLink telephoned to confirm that Wednesday’s lift to the Audio clinic was pick-up at 10:25 and lift back at 13:00 hrs!
When I checked the timings yesterday, I must have been the arithmaphobia. I’d already got it down for Wednesday but got mentally entangled with the digits again.
So, I’ve got all this to do again in the morning!
This sounds scary to me, actually.

I got the meal cooked and eaten.

Lightened a smidge, but I was so annoyed at myself!

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ALL THE BESTEST!
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Inchy Today: Monday 31st March – Nurses Visit Cancelled

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – GRIM REAPERS DELIGHT – – –– – – STARTED WELL! – – –
– – – Calendar Changed – – –
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– – AXIOMS WARNING ODE – –
I selected my lifelong axioms,
Since which there’s been ablations,
The occasional abstentions…
Some short-lived additions,
After some cerebrations…
Many more reconfigurations,
Now not looking like my intentions,
More like pseudo-inventions,
This gave me mental-contusions,
To mingle in with my confusions,
Did I opt for these delusions?
A list of unwanted dissentions,
Life should come with enchiridions,
With specific instructions!
Beware of HMG’s cacodemons…
Politicians who talk in idioms,
Caution with HMG’s maelstroms,
Dating ovolactovegetarians,
Eating together? Prognostications!
Put oligarchs on your pogroms,
Learn from quinquagenarians,
Fear the con artists’ clarions,
Dementia attacks parts of the cerebrum.
Check for correct reflections,
Fear not Government defections,
They think they’re all phenoms,
Anticipate political desertions,
Believe not their tergiversations,
Recreancies, disloyalties, deceptions,
Their deceit, lies & fabrications,
Codology, slyness & defraudations
This is the same for all Nations!
To survive, you’ll need patience…
Sufferance, fortitude, & resolution,
Armageddon, there’s no solution!
>>>>><<<<<
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I spent the night more awake than sleeping, which is not different from the last few nights, following the massive 5 hours of sleep I got four nights ago.
The mini-seizures returned this afternoon. I wonder where they disappeared to so suddenly?
The feeling of fatigue is still with me. I have kept feeling I need to sit, rest, and sleep all the time recently. Sometimes, I can nod off quickly, but within a couple of minutes, I’m shooting awake again without any tangible. A bit like when nothing had changed from when was with me. No questioning the facts. That was winning the mood stakes again this Monday. What things will be like tomorrow worries me. I’ve got to get up early to do the ablutions, or maybe do them tonight when I should be catching up on my sleep. Might be best for me to leave the nocturnal pouch on until it is near the time for the lift, and make a list of things needed to take with me. I dread having to go all through the process of booking appointments at the Audio Clinic, and then getting the lift sorted for when I’ll have to go back to pick-up to the clinic to pick up the refurbished or new hearing aids weeks later.

Thank heavens that Carer Joe sorted them out for me this time. I’ve got on the list; Cash to pay for the lifts, Reading glasses, crossword book and pen, Bank Card, and remember to take the non-working hearing aids with me with the others when I leave the flat. Oh, ‘eck! I just remembered. I’ve got a food order coming in the morning, too. Well before the lift is due, but I might have to do the ablutions and medications very early in the morning or tonight.
I’m sure I’ve missed something on the list.

I know the chances must be zero, but I’d love to see the lady I spoke with last time I went to the Audio Clinic. I listened to her problems, the lady has as well. I could have cried for her. I think she enjoyed being able to talk to someone non-medical about the problems she is having. Of course, I knew how she felt. She said that she told the doctor about some of the things that were happening, and she was sure the doctor just didn’t believe her. I didn’t get her name or number, but I might be brave enough to ask her if she is there again in the waiting room. She told me it took the medics three years to diagnose it.
I just looked it up on Google; In the UK, an estimated 50 to 100,000 people are affected by Functional Neurological Disorder (FND) in the community, with about 8,000 new diagnoses per year. The annual incidence is estimated at 4-12 per 100,000 people. 
My doctor is in denial about me having it and is putting it down to my .
I waffled a bit there, and now I’m even more behind with the flipping blog! Sorry, I have to rush!

This first photo saved alright, but I lost several others.

Two hours later.

Another half-hour.

After sunset shot. Nice!

More photos off into the ether, and four joined them when they disappeared from the file! Arrgh!
Including the beef in black bean meal photo.

I’m unsure when or why I took this one. The bladder waters. It is possible that it is an older photo that was missed or that it was used earlier.

Worried about Tuesday’s trip to the Audio Clinic.
There will not be much on Tuesday’s blog. This one is already terribly short on photos and detail.

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ODE 2: TIPS (Part 2.143)
Seek not what you fancy,
But what to you is needy,
Definitely owt urgently,
Try to live amenably, amiably,
Things happen accidentally…
Which can affect you mentally,
Living cheekily, cheerily, chirpily…
Sounds wonderful to me,
This ode is wrote circumlocutory,
I’ll let you know about my catatony,
When I read it up in my dictionary!
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Hahaha! Cheers Each!
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Inchy Today: Sat-Sunday 29/30th March 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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The Carer took shots of the much-improved Vasculitis-Vanessa’s right leg and ankle.
Improving nicely now.
Although the ankle is still resistant. I decided not to ask the lad to put any squabs or bandages on tonight.
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I had a good meal last night. I gave it a 9/10. As I watched the Brighton v Nottingham Forest FA Cup Match, Sister Jane reminded me of it being on TV when I phoned her. While eating and watching the match, I kept falling asleep. Dagnab it! But the Carer came and woke me up, then the surgery telephoned me. Then the water alarm activated. Then I had to empty the catheter contraption, return to the chair, and doze off while the match was on. I decided to give up. I was just too tired, and I thought I might get a decent night’s sleep in for once. Hahaha!
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>>>>><<<<<
>>>>>Starmer Ode No.325¼<<<<<
He’s a Scrooge-like abrogator…
Cut fuel help for every pensioner,
A Labour Party principles nullifier,
Ignores the core values of Labour,
Fuel and food prices get higher,
He takes many an illegal backhander,
Proletariats’ futures looking bleaker,
Takes the maximum self-paid bonsella,
Checking MPs’ expenses is not on his agenda!
I worry for Keir’s mental-cenesthesia,
As he seeks freebies at his many colloquia,
He may not be farceur, but he is farcicaler,
Politically, a liar, deluder, and deceiver,
A Labour supporters faith-severer,
The Labour voters own derogator,
What happened to nationalising power?
And British Rail’s return… he’s a fibber!
He’s Europe’s finest thimblerigger,
I would willingly handle his vivisepulture!
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Another repeated waking-up with jumps nights sleep. I had a long verbal and then physical tussle to convince the brain to get the reluctant body out of bed. This took a while and some discomfort.

My mind wandered as I sat there on the Throne. Tomorrow is the Audio Clinic appointment. I must prepare everything needed beforehand. The following shave was a bloodless affair. Yes!
Apart from forgetting to put the cream on my ankles, tummy, Germoloid groin, and grapefruit-sized right testicle and apply the eye spray, it all went well. Haha! Oh, I did stop the bleeding , and I used the ultra-stinging Terbinafine to stop the bleeding. Went back in the wet room to olive oil my earholes and other missed medicationalisationings. 

The young Caregiver arrived as I was finishing making up the waste bags. No leg bandaging needed. Joe issued the Medications. Then he checked the taps, fridge door, and stove and trotted off.

I turned on the computer and started this blog, then worked on the Ode for Tuesday in Word.

12:45hrs: I finally got the order to transfer, but now the photos are not being moved!

I’ll keep trying and surviving, and possibly start crying!

FOOTBALL ON TV
The Carer arrived. He said he would look at my emails later tonight.
WEIRD SEIZURES: This did not happen due to sudden fatigue. Not a seizure as such. I nodded off and woke repeatedly until 03:15 hrs, when I suddenly woke up and stayed awake. I was in a confused picklement. No memory of a carer calling, but they had been because they’d fitted the nocturnal night bag, and I could taste the Warfarin. The last call, I remember bits of, the diabetic socks coming off, I think I may have dropped the tablets. One was on the carpet when I eventually got up.

Piccies that I managed to save later.
Not sure if the day is right.
I think it was an afternoon shot, so I must have got up sometime after the fatigue set in.
I’m not sure if I got the meals in order.

The Weirdest Day of March!
Sensations like never before. The sudden falling of fatiguedness, so few seizures (as I recognise them). 
I genuinely think I nodded and woke dozens of times throughout the late afternoon, night & morning.
I somehow felt only weary, yet not overly tired or exactly poorly. Manifested mightily and toyed with my brain throughout. It was a bizarre, eerie, idiosyncratic, schismatic, almost other-wordly insanity-inviting day!
Half in depression – half in la-la land.

Loosing My Grip on Life’s Sinking Ship!
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But I’ll not give up… Oh, No! (Well…) Hehe!