– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – This’ll Baffle Peter! – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The highlight of today, if that’s the right word… was waking up. Or, instead, unable to wake up.
This is about the sixth morning in a row where I’ve woken up with the best of intentions, only to fall asleep. The morning summoning to the Porcelain Throne arrived, and has for days been a saviour. But not this time. I’d lain there trying to make a monotonous nodding off again for an hour or so, and the summons to the Porcelain Throne arrived earlier than usual.
I welcomed this, thinking once up and about, I’d be able to get on with things. The Trosky Terence-controlled evacuation was messy, hard, then gooey, and then liquid. I’ve got used to this over the last four days and, of course, now expect the follow-up of stinky fluid that adds interest to the session.
I cleaned up and went to the front room to get redressed, sat down, and Zzzz! For an hour or so, and still did not wake properly. I was more out-of-it than ever, may have had some mini-seizures, not certain.
Ejaz did his bestest for me; he’d left by the time I started to come round. I assume he’d given me the medications. Hope he was not annoyed with me.
I’ve just had to change the keyboard, it was repeating many letters, ten or fifteen times, so regularly.
This one has the wrong keyboard lettering. The hash key, usually next to the Enter key, has a backslash and a bar. See this photo, please. I think a few others might be wrong, too. What a loser I am!
I digressed there again. Anyway, with twenty minutes of getting up, I started to feel more with it, half an hour later, I was as good as I had been in days. 
What’s going on here? Doctor… Doctor!

I took a view from the kitchen window. It stayed misty and cold all day long.
Took a decent snap of the front car park.

This late afternoon shot of the amazing clouds with the even more amazing single showing of the sun.
It looked to me like either a ghost bird or a flying fish on the lighted parts of the sky.

I didn’t, I’ve only just noticed at 2020hrs, have a wash & shave today. I’m too tired to bother now. All the more pressure to get up early and finish the ablutions. But will I make it? Oh, dearie stinkikng me!

Well, going to get some spuds in the oven, butter and salt them, and eat them with a last-day-dated smoked streaky bacon slices. Bet I fall asleep eating them.

Hope to be back in the morning to finish this, or maybe in the afternoon with my daily getting-started struggles of late. I’m not confident. 
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Saturday morning, another refusal from my mind and body to get out of bed… more in the next issue of this World Famous Disasters of Everyday Life for Inchie Blog. Notorious for his mass followers’ praise, compassion and understanding. Both of them.

On with the updating, here goes, keyboard permitting.

Prepping and cooking the day’s meal. Then I took this pair of snaps of the views of the night sky through the windows with Kodak-Tim-2.
Not overly good. The sky has been misty all day into the night.

I got the spuds out of the oven, put cheese, some sea salt, and no butter-butter on top of each one. 

A decent meal this time. It took some eating and was a messy affair with the no-butter-butter running all over the place. Still, it did taste so delicious, and finger-licking, and there was a lot of that, good! A mess to clean up. Tsk!

Doing the washing up of the pots, dishes, and myself took me yonks. I ended up with a dirtier-than-usual kitchen… well, a messier one. Then took this snap with Kodak-Tim-2 from the kitchenette window.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =,= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
♠ TTFN, Mon Amis ♠
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– Witchcrafting? –

Yet another morning’s struggle getting my elephantine body out of bed. No, I lied! I meant out of 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.
Another session of convincing myself of the benefits of rising from my uncomfortable slumber failed. And several more followed. Finally, I found the courage and determination to hastily, but painfully, force myself out of the recliner… Well, I said, finally I found the courage and determination to force myself, hastily but painfully, out of the recliner. Another fib. I had to get up to use the porcelain throne.
Morning mist.
Late morning brew of Glengettie.
Warfarin INR Level.

The Virgin engineer arrived in the afternoon. A grand, helpful young man. He got the TV and recording back onto Virgin connections. And he was patient with my questions about the various buttons on the remote, which my short-term memory had erased over the eight weeks of waiting. He even went to the bother of writing down the main ones for me.
And hey, presto… I’ve got the TV working!
Yee-Ha!

Cheered up now. Awaiting a visit from
at any time, now…
Still waiting…

I took two Kodak-Tim-2 snaps of the lovely view on offer. one on the left, one on the right, and juggled and jiggled them to try to make them look like one.
Not too bad… for me. The PN won’t let me take a panorama shot… well, he does, but he guarantees that every time I try, Shaking Shaun kicks in. They always come out warped.
Another little strait that has joined in with the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Not to mention the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity of mind. Also, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Legs Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Iris, Cataract Katie, Sandra’s damned seizures, Back-Pain-Brenda, Arthur Itis, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Fractured Knee Frankie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Unwin’s Unguis Incarnates Ingrowing Toenail, Reflux Roger, Replacement Mechanical Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine, Hydrocephalus-Hilda, and Catheter-Contraption-Carol, and the hearing aids are not working. Still, it could be worse.

Fishsticks, battered fishcakes, potatoes, leeks, tomatoes and onions in parsley sauce.

A view of the scene from the kitchen window before getting into bed late.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – MUCH IMPROVED! – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I HOPE FOR A GOOD, PEACEFUL DAY FOR US ALL
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
None of these is mine. I spotted them while searching and smiled at each one!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
07:00hrs: I stirred back into imitation, pretend, faux-life. Back-aching, and a twang of acid in my mouth, throat and nose. (Nocturnal, or morning seizure?)

Made up the bin bags, hoovered and had another mini-seizure. Not time to fret about that, for I was summoned to the Porcelain Throne. Another of those rock-solid, much effort needed jobs, with a follow-through of watery spattering. Still easier than yesterday, and less messy. After cleaning up, a second follow-through arrived, not a lot though. I was baffled and still am as to why I could not get up from the loo seat! The lower back pain was just too painful when I tried. Yet I got up at least twice in the last few minutes? Again, Carer Ejaz arrived just when I needed him most. He hauled me up onto my feet. I keep saying this, but he saved the day again. Ejaz issued the medications, Phorpain-gelled the shoulder, and back. Check my lower and rear regions. Creamed. 
The Backpain-Brenda was eased by the gelling, and Ejaz did so on all four calls today. That got me through, along with the Codeines.

The Nurse turned up, my favourite one, to check the leg and ankle, and put a new dressing on it for me. Bless her. 🤎

I got on with finishing the Tuesday blog, finished it, and posted it off. Had to stop at around midday when two carers arrived. Ejaz on the cleaning &
laundry 2-hour session, and Mizra for the medications. Mizra did some Phorpaining and Emmeloinating. Nice
ad. Ejaz took the laundry down to the washer.

When he came back up, he rang the Audio Clinic to get an appointment for any Wednesday for me.
Our problem with getting an appointment is that only Wednesdays are available, because the NHS says I have to have a Carer with me, or a family member. Thus: 
Wed 4th Feb, A Dentist appointment. Wed 11th: a Doctor’s visit. The earliest appointment I can get is Wednesday, 18th Feb, so there’s still a while to go before I can hear again. But the lad got me in.
He’s a good lad!

VIRGIN CONTACTED
With our last call to them costing an estimated minimum of £22, including a £2 connection fee for 0333 numbers each time, and Virgin cutting us off three times, neither of us was exactly looking forward to making this inquiry. But Ejaz gave it a go, with me saying if they start cutting us off again and giving out telephone numbers and links for us to use, ring off. 
Wisely, Ejaz said, “You are depressed without losing your TV, and now more grumpy, let’s see how it goes.
The usual delays and repeating things to get by the robots’ marathon natter to us, Ejaz spoke to a human. They delayed things a little to stretch the money I’m paying for the call; they always do that. Twice, she wanted to speak with me. Ejaz clearly put the phone on speaker and used thumbs-up for yes and thumbs-down for no. Handed the phone back to Ejaz. Another ten minutes or so, and amazingly, astonishingly, this is the third time he’s tried to get help when the new remote stopped working, 3 months ago. This is True… They’re sending an engineer to look at it, Tomorrow!!!
Twixt Well done, Ejaz! Of course, with my record of bad luck, I will not get excited until they have been and got it working again! Then… And he stayed for quite a while, but paid no further visits after this; it was great while it lasted!
Ejaz was running out of time. But he’s done a grand job again. No time for any cleaning again; the laundry was collected and left in the bag for me to sort and hang. Medicated me, rescued me, sorted out (I hope, it is Virgin we are talking about – Although British Gas is equally as harmful) the Virgin remote control, and booked me in with the audio clinic. I’d be lost without him.

Late now, Food Needed!
Food Now Eaten, Mmm!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
🤎 I wish you all the best of luck! 🤎
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – I lost the plot again!- – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I went to bed early last night to ensure I could wake up, well, get up early for the JS delivery between 6:30 @ 7:30hrs. (I thought). Here’s how my plan went.
When I woke up, I wriggled my way painfully (the Lymphorrhrea Leslie leg was leaking and giving off electric shocks) up enough to shine the torch at the clock to check the time, 04:10hrs. A moment to gather myself together, I decided I had to force myself to get up. Despite the pains in my leg, I drifted swiftly off back to sleep.
Woke up later, and realised I’d had a dream, but only smidges of it remained in my brain. I hate it when this happens! I got the torch, wound it up, and checked the time 0430hrs.
I remember trying to get my leg higher by bending it, so I didn’t need to bend so far to get the night bag off of the catheter, Zzzz!
Stirred again, the clock was showing 0510hrs. I renewed my resolve to get out of bed this time. Getting annoyed with myself now… Zzzz!
Next awakening, I could not find the torch at first, but did in a few minutes… but don’t ask why or how, I found it in my nightcap? (I know! Me too!)  Pressed the on button, but nothing happened. I thought, I’ve got to get up to see what time it is, then I can stay up even if it’s too early. Cunning idea? Haha! As I got my legs painfully off of the bed, I felt the pus pouring from Lymphorrhrea Leslie’s leg. I used the paper towels I keep in the bed for such emergencies and dried the feet while lying on the bed to avoid too much bending and a visit from Lost-Balance-Belinda or Dizzy Dennis. The time showed 0545hrs. 
Despite the need to get up to ensure I didn’t miss the delivery, I sat in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, and Zzzz!
What the Hell is happening here?
I jerked awake. It was much lighter now; no need to use the torch to see. It was already 06:50hrs. 
Had I missed the intercom sounding? Have the groceries been and gone? 
Suddenly, this mattered less… the innards let out a long, blasting gust of wind from the rear end, and I was on my way, with the catheter bag dangling, to the Porcelain Throne. Convinced I was about to be late for a Trotsky Terence evacuation. I was wrong. I anticipated this because I had the Bombay Potatoes last night. It seems they had the complete opposite effect than expected and usually do; I got seated, and boy, did that evacuation not want to start. Ten minutes or so later, it crept out, still needing a bit more urging, and it was a messy, sticky affair.
Cleaned myself up. Got the catheter straps on and put the kettle on. Eager for a mug of Glengettie. Taking a shot of the view on offer as I filled the kettle. Tea? No! But no! 0710hrs, and Carer Dilan came in. I warned him that I’d left a waste bag where I’d left it, so he didn’t trip over it, asking him to take it with him on his way out to the refuge disposal room. Issued the medications. Checked the urine level after I asked him to. I took the urine to the toilet to empty it again. I remembered to ask him to check the sinks, fridges and cooker for me. Off he went after waiting for the fifteen minutes to be up. Just missing the arrival of the JS delivery. Seems I got that wrong on the calendar, too. It was for 0700 > 0800hrs. The driver put the food into the bags I supplied him with, leaving them in the hallway. Then, I got them checked and stored them away. Got some ready meals, lemon yoghurts, jelly & custard pots, fish sticks, and fish tails, and some Spanish-style potato cakes. One of the meals is a fish-and-chip dish with pea puree. A reasonable offer price, too. 400g for £3.45. I can have some fishcakes with them, mayhaps. Cook in the oven or microwave.
I was pleased to find some new-season daffodils in stock. I got these as a thank-you for Jenny, and some Jaffa orange wafers for Frank, her other half. Both lovely people. Bless them.
Unloaded the next carrier bag: bread, Gungo Ho sauces, dark soya, Bombay potatoes, tomatoes, water chestnuts, and a packet of Bombay mix nibbles. No need, and I must not do another order for this week! (He says)

Oh, and I restocked on medical plasters. I hope some of these will be useful for sticking on the district nurses’ bandages & plasters on the leg when the wounds ooze blood & lymph, loosening them.

The rain is continuing, but not heavily yet, just persistently. The Carer on the midday call, a lovely lad, called Mirzra, & my delivery driver told me how ‘flipping’ cold it felt out there. It was cold enough in the flat.

Carer Dilan arrived early tonight. I’d just made a brew of Glengettie at long last. It’s still there, stone cold, undrunken. Tsk!

Took another shot of the same view as earlier, with the drizzle still coming and the wind getting up. But a lot better than some places are. Primarily falling as hill snow in northern England and Scotland, along with heavy rain and wind from Storm Chandra. The bitch!

A tomato and a bit of red onion. They can go in mt fish & chip ready meal with added fishcakes, methinks?

Oh, the leg is leaking again. Not to fret, the nurse is calling tomorrow to check on it for me.
I hope.

Better get the nosh sorted out then.
I had the ready-made fish-and-pea meal, adding the fishcakes to the mix.
In the late morning, I plugged the SD card into the computer to retrieve the photo I was 100% sure I’d taken of the meal. But it was not on the card or in the camera? I was later 50% sure I must have taken the shot… certain I had taken the photo on the chair before settling to eat it. Or did I?
Maybe I got distracted? I may not have… Tsk!

That’s a bit better. I’d like it to be higher!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
===============
TTFNski Folks!
===============

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
= = Written by him, partly unknown = =
= = His mind somewhere in the ozone = =
= = For going off track, he is well known = =
= = Oh, he broke mobile dog & bone!  = =
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was busily copying the written list of items, as Jenny suggested, to use in giving details of my ailments and problems to the incoming Social Worker and Manager of the ICC Care Company to add to a Word page. The intercom chimed out, and my appointed Social Lady arrived. As she said she was early, the doorchime sounded, and in came the ICC Lady.

So pleased that they came, but had to try and concentrate, not being used to two people being in the flat with me, a risk of my getting confused and misunderstanding presented itself.

The Social Lady was carrying out a deep Q&A session, and I thought it might save her and the ICC Manager from all that writing down of my answers, if I could send them the Word document. Which they thought was a good idea. I felt elated that I had an idea approved. But… naturally, I made a mess of sending it, and added a load of rubbish with it; my nicknames for my ailments and reminders, and many duplicated, irrelevant items. The Social Lady and ICC will be thinking what a twit we have here when they get around to reading it. 
Of course, they’ll be right to do so. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Bombay potatoes, with extra potato chunks boiled and added, & Gung-Po sauce.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Horis visited after the meeting was over.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Fair Thee All Well, Hope things go Great!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Grammarly Not Working
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Very busy, getting ready for the Social & ICC Carers visit tomorrow. My fingers are crossed!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TTFN, Tara!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Welcome to my pristinely clean, neat, tidy, high-class, well-run, valuable treasures-ridden, modern, show-flat conditioned, 
furnished fit-for-a-King, dwelling. Rumours about the taps leaking and the Hopewells’ 1963 E-plan sideboard doors and handles dropping off are rubbish. It is a Hopewells’ 1965 E-plan sideboard with the doors and handles dropping off. And the leaking windows are good for one’s health. Let’s have a bit of rain and wind in, which is good when one can’t get out and about. Just thought I’d clarify the situation (fibbingly).
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

 

 

 

0700hrs: I woke and realised the dreaded
was with me as I took off the nocturnal catheter bag.
Nothing had changed. No reason to feel so down, as far as I could tell. I pressed on and, taking Kodak-Tim-2 with me, off to get some early shots of the view from the kitchenette window. All four were transferred to the computer via the SD card without any problems. After yesterday’s struggle with it, and the quality of the shots, I should have got a fillip in spirits, but the gloom of Darius prevented me from cheering up or enjoying something going right for once.
The skies were green-tinged again, but not as much as Friday morning. A fair job, I thought.

Getting the tea brewed, I had to abandon it to go to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky was in charge again, but nowhere near as leaky with it. I think things may get evacuationally firmer by tomorrow.  
Well, I hope so, Fed up with not making it in time, and the mess!
This should also have cheered me, but Darius kept his grip on me. I don’t like feeling like this at all.

Went to finish making the brew of Glengettie and found I’d left the damned hot tap running yet again! It was stone-cold water now. Will I ever get a wash and shave this week? I’ll try to stay up late tonight when the water reheats on the night tariff and get them done. 

Carer Ejaz arrived, and the tea went cold, of course. Not that I’m short on teabags after yesterday’s accidental ordering of 12 boxes of 80 Glengettie tea bags, for the two I had planned to get. Humph! 
I can see if anyone wants any later on. It would suit my brother-in-law, Pete, down to the ground. They’ve got that earthy taste that the best black teas do; they always remind me of Co-op 99, but a little stronger with it. Delicious! Jenny might know someone who likes strong tea that I could donate to?
Back to Ejaz, I lost the plot again there.
I just typed “IU lost the plot,” and the Grammarly Robot let it through. Tsk!
Ejaz did a good job on me again. Medications, Peptac, anticoagulated the catheter areas on my legs, and ,  and . He barrier creamed the We discussed for a minute or two about Monday’s visit from the social lady.

Did my bestestist to take a decent shot, no, two of them, of the views on offer from the kitchenette window. Not sure why, but one got lost in the ether.

A while on the computer, then I made a brew of Glengettie tea. Must remember to ring the audio clinic on Monday to get them mended or renewed.

Made another mug of Glengettie, I do love this tea.
Why one of the snaps from the balcony came out so differently from the other is beyond me. But then again, this could be said of just about anything nowadays. Is still keeping me down.
The spikrit-darkening varmint!

The Iceland order arrived around 0930hrs. The driver kindly took the bags through to the kitchen for me, wished me a good day, bless him.
Another thing I like, as with the Glangettie tea, well two things on those Iclenad order that suit me; The battered mini fishcakes, and those Harry Ramsden’s Chip Shop Chips. Both are morish!
The fridge filled up nicely, with the nurses’ and delivery people’s thank-you treats. Iced coffee seems to be the most popular one. I got some new varieties this time for them… oh, dear Jenny’s hubby and decent fellow Frank are calling in a while; four coffees of his choice await him. Jenny loves coffee, and I love thanking Jenny. This is typical of how things go with my head nowadays; I looked at the marinating sauces I bought last week, and decided which one to use tonight. With minutes to go, I’d forgotten which one and what I was going to make to go with it… whichever it was. 

Frank arrived, bringing me two Cornish pasties to put in the freezer, the ones Jenny suggested I would like. Ah, I could have them tonight… I’ll try to remember to ask her whether they have to be thawed before cooking and how long they take in the oven. My mind was rattling along, changing subjects as I thought or talked to myself all day today. Good reason later on, well, a bad reason really. I forgot to ask her even when I phoned her later… signs of the brain getting either less workable, or more disintegrable.

Two hours later, the terrible news appeared. The struggle to get help with the computer and to increase the memory has proven impossible… and I got a message from CorelDraw saying it can’t save my work: not enough memory available. Huh!
As if Darius was not set in deep enough already, now silly thoughts entered my brain. Amid my frustrations, I spent hours trying to find a way to save the work I had done. Nervously, I went searching for any cdr. items on the computer to try to delete them to make room. Desperation forced me into delving into areas and files I had no idea of what they were, what they did, or why they were there. But found some that had Cdr files. Dare I? Should I? Can I delete some to free up space? For the life of me, I could not make up my mind whether the risk was too great if I tried.
I went to take some photos to give my concentration a break, I attempted to get a decent picture out of the sudden burst of sunshine getting through and shining on this lousy globe… sorry about that, I need help here more than ever. The thought of being computerless would be worse if it happened because I took a gamble on deleting things just cause they were old. What to do?
Some folks have family to worry over. Me? A two-year period of struggling with a dying computer, and it looks bad, whatever I do… and I’m still undecided. If I do nothing, no more blogging. If it goes wrong, no more computer…

I got back to the computer and carried on the search. I found hundreds of Cdr items when searching in This PC. Whatever they were, every file was tiny; it looked like Vector graphics, possibly. I chose one I thought was safe, right-clicked, and deleted it. A green progress bar started creeping along the top of the window.
Ejaz did his first evening call at this stage,
He was here for about 15 minutes, and when he had gone, I went back to the kitchen window. The sunshine came out as I opened the window. I think I said to it, “Don’t bother, mate”, or something like that. The beauty of the sky failed to impress me. I knew then I was on a real downer.

{1} The Computer
Back to the computer, and the green progress bar was about a tenth of the length of the bar. Foolishly, I closed the window and carried on with the search, finding some actual Cdr. files – 6 of them. I deleted all but one, the one I still had open. An iota of hope rose within. Back to the art package, and tried to save the work again. The busy pointer thingamabob wriggled away. A good six minutes later, the soul-destroying message returned that there wasn’t enough memory available to save this file. I almost considered suicide.
Another search, and I came across some more Cdr. files; these, I had no idea what they were. I scrolled and scrolled away, there were hundreds of them, and found on that was Cdr labelled. A big one, too. Aha, if I can delete this safely, then I’ll have a chance.
I right-clicked to ask it to view in a folder… It told me I can’t delete files held on the cloud.
I was lost. If the files were on the cloud, how did I find them searching My Computer?
When I close down tonight, I’ll lose all I’ve done for future use. With all the current problems, I’ll try to do a Cartoon and an Ode for a while, until I have time and/or a miracle and can get help sorting this out.
As for the other well-documented problems;

{I} Virgin @#ers in; not letting me sign in.
Carer Ejaz and I did, but it did not work.
Virgin @#ers whose TV remote is not working.
{2} British *=#$ Gas
Who keeps sending me demands via email for a meter reading and keeps increasing the costs because I haven’t done so? Why had I not responded?
No one can understand the ancient meter. Let’s look back at this problem, shall we? In our first communication, we got cut off twice, and at £2 a minute and a £2 connection fee per call, this was wrangling Ejaz and me. My bank manager will not be pleased either. A farce, Ejaz could not understand the lady on the phone, and vice versa. We had to give up.
The following week, we tried again. Spent even more time on the phone this time. We kept being sent to the meter in the flats’ foyer to follow instructions on how to read it. Nothing worked; I had had enough and was ready to have a stroke. Ejaz was fuming, and in the end, they gave links but no satisfaction.
The woman asked us to send a photo of the meter.
At the end of the conversation, I explained clearly and slowly: All I want to do is take a reading and send it to you. I need help with this. My Warden, Carers, and neighbours were asked for help, but none of them could work out how to take the reading!
“Oh, I can arrange that for you!”
“Yes, please do that!”
Of course, we’ve heard nothing  back from them,
We are interested in seeing the label that shows the meter’s installation date as 20/4/15.

{3} NHS Audio Clinic
One of the hearing aids gave up the ghost. It really throws you off balance when you wear just one, so Ejaz rang Ropewalk House, 113 The Ropewalk, Nottingham, NG1 5DU. For general enquiries and adult hearing aid repairs, call 0115 919 4488. Ejaz said he reached an AI robot. Ring back on Monday. So he’ll try again tomorrow to get an appointment for a ‘Wednesday’ for me, so he can go with me.
{4} NHS Neurology
On my first (and only up to now) appointment, which I waited 3 months to get. The night before a lift was assured for me failed, and I was told to cancel the appointment. I managed to get a lift there, but not back. That was the one where I got lost, fell over on the crowded tram, got on the wrong bus, missed the get off stop, had an hour’s back walk up Winchester Street Hill in the dark to the flats, got a call from a concerned Carer, Ejaz, who was in my flat. I told him I should be there in about 20 minutes and dropped the mobile phone. In the dark, with no torch, I set about searching the bushes and leaves where I assumed it had fallen. Some local yobboes took an interest in me and came over the road to verbally torment me. Luckily, one of the flat residents was passing by in his car, saw the scuballs, and pulled in. They did a runner, the man found my mobile, and I set of up the last bit of the hill towards the flats. Ejaz rang again, and I told him when I got out of the disastrous, hairy trip home. The Doctor asked me to get a Carer to video it if I had a seizure. Carer Nimra did so. Carer Ejaz showed me how to send it in an email; then I realised I hadn’t asked for or been told of the Doctor’s email address. Humph.
{5} NHS EENT
I got a lift there with Easy Link. But, they could not take me back. Ejaz arranged for a hospital lift, bless him. I got into the building, to the correct reception, and into the main waiting hall. Within minutes, a young lady picked me up, and we went to her examination room, where we had the eye test done. As she was putting some drops in my eyes, some of them dripped down my cheek into my mouth, I recall thinking of telling her about my difficulties when the drops were put in my right eye a few years ago… I came around from the seizure a few minutes later, they tell me, and the Cardiac PET team were in the room. It seems that when I went through a seizure, the lady thought I was having a heart attack. I get, after each seizure, a foul, acidic taste coming up from the reflux, which is what confused the lady. So, two hours of tests that all came back okay, I thanked them and made my way to the main reception to wait for a lift. Five hours later, the lift arrived. That appointment lasted for 11 hours.
Where was I?
None of the above has been sorted or actioned yet.

I’ll try in the morning to see if the computer and CorelDraw let me perform.
I have cartoons to put on, and should be able to do an Ode, WordPress permitting. Everything I open now wants a new password. Why? Dunno!
Dunno a lot of the passwords either. Tsk!

This is why I waffled on while I could today.

This is generous to Horis.
The much-missed Horis.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
FARE THEE WELL!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
INCHIE FORGOT TO PUT THESE ON YESTERDAY
These are the foods that he could not remember ordering. I know… You can’t believe that such an educated, meticulous, distinguished, good-looking, agile, mentally fit young man could do such a thing as forget, drop, knock over or walk into things. Ahem!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
To a teacher, back in 1953…
You can sod-off, he said with glee!
I went around a corner, bumping into a PC,
I apologised, of course, immediately…
What are you doing out this late, young Inchy?
There’s just had a warehouse burglary…
He clouted me around my head, arrested me!
I worked in 1963 at a  shop, Marsden’s Grocery,
Went on a company outing to a brewery,
Free drinks… I drank a little enthusiastically,
Had to walk home, but I’d lost my key…
This is what Griselda said to me…
As she bubbled with sexuality…
I think you’ve got tons of phantasmality…
Your late – gerrup them stairs for some rumpy-pumpy,
We had four hours of hanky-panky,
Next day I ran home for more reproductive activity,
Another four hours, sweaty, but heavenly…
She grabbed my tackle, demanding more intimacy,
I may have dementia, but that stayed in my memory,
Tall, well built, husky, sex-mad, Ah, I do miss Grizelda.
Working in security, the external alarm panel ambered,
Then the laboratory alarm sounded,
Back-up and police were radioed,
Then I went and investigated…
Truncheon on my belt, to feel protected,
A laser lab window lighted…
I admit to being a smidge frightened,
As the proximity motion light darkened,
A man coming out… and I shouted…
Stay where you are, the police have been summoned!
He blurted out ‘fuck-you’, then this happened…
He shot me in the knee, then I was bludgeoned…
from behind, his cohorts had appeared,
They split up, I got up, after the shooter, I chased,
Police & back-up arrived then arrived.
A copper saw I was well blooded…
Said an incident report must be recorded!
I got cover, joined in, as the police searched,
At 02:00 hrs, to the hospital I lurched…
The guy who shot was in A&E, bedamned!
I got him arrested, I felt proud chested,
What did he call me? It rhymed with plastered!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I regret that things, although being far better than recently, had the hindrance of just not working, going, being or getting done right. That may be due to the welcome at the time, amazingly short but so repetitive attendances of Horis! Bringing his famously carefree and not bothered about anything so often and for such long periods of Horis’s ! Or rather streaks, today.
Which meant I was doing what I wanted, not what needed doing, and enjoying it while he was present, naturally. But Darius would return after each belt of Hosisness – bringing guilt. I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never got so little done that really needed doing. I was nit-picking, no, that’s not the right word, is it? Oh, Horis abandoned me towards teatime, after his many mini-blitzes throughout the day.
Took complete control. I imagine in my warped mind that he was getting a bit miffed at Horis’ impudence. You think?
So, it is now 2050hrs, and I’ve only got this far on the blog. I’m so low it’s hard work, and the blame lies with me. No good blaming Alto-Ego Inchy, Hydrocephalus Henry or Dementia Doreen; for each one is me. I could try blaming the neurologist for the total lack of response after my first meeting with him. Let’s face it, the NHS is dying a slow, mangled, messy death. 
Ah, a thought just partially gave me someone to blame. Her Starmer! I’d love to give him all the blame, but my impartiality means I also have to blame years of the Tories failing to fund the NHS adequately.
I’m on a downer – with being on the upper for most of the day, this downer seems so much worse. I’m out of time, the usual fatigue, eyesight and willpower fading fast. 
I’ll do a wuickie from here on, leave things off, just use the few photos I’ve taken, the memory notepad has gone the same way as my hearing aids and torch. I would really like to use the WP reader to read and reply to any messages left. I don’t know how to get any help. Or do I? Another plan may be needed to stop this depression, frustration and pathetic self-pity. 

Didn’t get to bed tonight. Got carried away again with the missing word lists redoing, then realised nothing else had got done (much anyway).

Poor tree copse.

No hot water, I left the tap running again.

Had a stand-up wash, shave, medicated, etc.

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.
New prob;e, with MS Word, tell you when I can get the time… Hahaha! Get the time! Huh!

I doctored a photo for a bit of fun.
I blame .

Pulled myself belatedly back to blogging.
More problems with the computer.

Gave up again and put the TV on – but it didn’t come on. No idea why, but Darius deepened.

Late snap.

Carer arrived, took me ages to get him to take my socks off and foam the toes and legs. He doesn’t understand me, and I don’t understand him.

I’d only ordered an Asda delivery!
I realy need help with this. I have no recollection of ordering anything at all!
What’s going on in my head?
The person who spoke to me when I was last in hospital said she would arrange some help when I told her what I was doing with the food deliveries.
Or, did she? Cause I’ve not heard anything from them since the November visit. No one has contacted me.
Still, I can’t blame them, really.

Going to make a meal now, not feeling very perky, but you never know, food might help.

Took this snap while cooking.

Saved the work, closed the tabs, and ran CCleaner on the computer. As I closed it down, I smelt the aroma of the burning food coming from the oven!
I’m so good at burning food this week… I think I ought to get some sort of award for persistence. Hahaha!

=============================
=============================
=============================
Fare Thee All, Well!
=============================

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
MUCH IMPROVED!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A broken (at least eight times) night’s sleep again. But I soon nodded off quickly each time. Forcing myself to escape the comfy clutches of the bed, I removed the nocturnal urine pouch from the catheter, and made for the wetroom, determined to get a good scrub-up, shave peggies, etc., and did just that. My balance was not bad at all, and the ailments were less severe than on Friday morning. I made a slight genuflection and swore not to bend again. Arrrgh! Toothache Tiffany, Back-Pain-Brenda, and Ingrowing Toenail Teresa were a few in a bad mood with me. I got the PPs, khagoule and dressing gown ready, and checked the medications were in there that I needed to use, and kicked off doing the ablutionalising.
I detoured a smidge to take a morning snap of the view on offer.
The Ablutioning went amazingly well!
Not a single cut shaving!
Not a single toe-stubbing!
No gums or teeth bled!
No banging the door frame/cabinet!
A couple of minor hiccups, though…
I dropped he razor, flannel, towel and toothbrush. The razors quite a few times. But, fortunately, I had close at hand and utilised him… I think about eleven times!
WAS NOT SO GOOD
Well, you can’t win them all, can you? I can’t!
When I got the tube of barrier cream out, I creamed the man-breasts and genital periphery near the overhanging stomach. Tsk!
And dropped the tube while putting the cap back on it. What a circuitous route it took; as I recall, it went down, hit my right knee, bounced up a smidge, and hit the things on the floor cabinet, knocking the olive oil bottle off onto the floor, which landed spot on, as if it aimed at , a perfect hit. The pain took my attention away from the flying Barrier Cream tube. Finding out where it had ended up took me ages! It had somehow slipped behind and under the exit piping at the back of the WC!  
I tried  to retrieve it, but I couldn’t reach it safely to pick it up. It’s still in there somewhere, now I can’t even see it!
There’s more…
Hard to believe I know, but I went to get the bottle of olive oil to refill the leaked squeegy-dropper bottle. And almost naturally, the bottle spilt a little and slipped out of my hand.  I don’t need to tell you where it landed, do I? ARRRGH!
So I won’t need to refer to or mention my poor, harrowingly painful ingrowing toenail.
There’s more…
The ointment went on much more easily this time. I thought, Aha, my luck’s changing… I turned to get the Khagoule from the shower rail, and for the first time in many days, a crunch followed by a little pain came from . It sort of levelled things up a bit, really. Right foot with the toe and left with the knee. I used two walking sticks for the rest of the day.

Carer Ejaz arrived, and I forgot to ask him to find and bring back the cream. He issued the NHS medications. Then did a body check, seeing that I’d missed some acne on the top of the left leg, and he creamed it for me. That should have reminded me about the wet room farce – but it didn’t.

I’ve not had many mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, for several days? I’m making up for 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! I decided to have a search for the barrier cream tube in the wet room. Not wanting to bend the knee, I took with me. After a while, I cleaned the glasses, thinking it might help me cope better with .
But I could not get at it without going down on one knee. No Way! I foolishly, nae, stupidly bent down to see if the hand brush might help me get at it… 
!!! I fell, fortunately, forward into the trolley. Putting my free hand out to prevent me from tumbling… The hand got entangled in the rubbish in the bottom tray, screwdriver, scissors, and might need razors, etc, again. I might have a new bruise coming. Still, it’s all a part of being disabled. Ask those far worse off than I am. I was just pleased I hadn’t gone down. All that bother of getting help, people calling for an ambulance, overnight in the hospital, waiting 5 hours for a lift back. Oh, yes, I’m not complaining, just glad it didn’t happen.
Anyway, what would I put in my blog? Hehe!

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 
they are both easing off a little, and I’m back to using one stick. I opted for rather than my. Well, he’s not had an outing for a while. It keeps him happy. Again, it might be hard to believe, but I do talk to them. To prove my insanity, I pretend that I’m training them, when I forget to take one, I call out… “Heel, Micky, Come Heel!” Then mutter to myself about them not responding. When someone is in the flat. It raises a few laughs, and I get the odd incredulous glance. Well, I do it when I’m on my own too, come to think of it. 
A big fear of mine is someone putting a video and or microphone in the flat. They’ll pick up some terrible language when things go wrong, and I get frustrated. But, today, there have been far fewer visits from and the odd extremely welcome visits from .

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.

I hand-washed and hung up a khagoule. While I was in there, I tried to reach the barrier cream behind the toilet again. No luck.

Ejaz did his teatime visit. In a good mood, he gave my leg a creaming. Medications sorted. He checked the lower regions and thought they needed more creaming, and Ejaz did so.

From here on, until about eight P.M., is an utter mystery. Whether I had a prolonged seizure or fell asleep was hard to decide on. There was a very mild taste of acidity when I came out or woke up, which indicated a seizure. Yet the usual confusion, loss of balance, and out-of-itness were not there?
I came out or was woken up when the Carer arrived. But he was too early to issue any medications; a four-hour minimum gap between NHS medications had not yet been reached. I asked him to take the waste bags to the chute for me as he left.

The computer was still on, and I thought I’d check the emails to see what was what. And found that I had sillily made an order for food to be delivered in the morning, via Amazon & Morrisons?
Then, a little later, the food arrived!
What’s going on here?
The computer (I thought it was its death knell) went crazy. Keys pressed and windows appeared. I was in Excel at the time, doing the Health Check recordings I’d taken earlier. Then a message came up “You are pressing Ctrl; do you want to open in safe mode.
I was not fully aware of what was happening because I was not pressing Ctrl. I pressed yes, and a blank Excel sheet opened. I managed to close everything down, gave it a minute, and then rebooted.
Same problem. I think that the Ctrl button must be stuck down. A keyboard problem? Closed down and turned off the computer altogether.
Looked at the keyboard, and the Ctrl key looked out of place with those around it.
I jiggled the button a bit, shook the keyboard upside down, nothing fell out – then again, with making my left eye so blurry, maybe some did? And restarted the computer.
For how long?
Fingers Crossed!

========================

========================

Will Peace Ever Come?
Will Our Saviour ever come?
The World Needs Some!

====================
All The Bestest!
====================