Inchie Today

Inchy: Sunday, 6th April 2025

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That’s the lot concerning photos and graphics. Sorry. I was allowed to save just the first of the many pictures and graphics made and taken. I had some I could use again in the WP Gallery. All that time and effort was spent, too. I had some cracking Kodak Tim 2 snaps as well. The computer problems just have me beaten!

I gave up, deciding then not to, and tried again. I cleaned the computer yet again, all of it and put it back on again. Now, the only way to get a photo or graphic on is one at a time, and you have to rename the old image and save the new one using the same name. This cost me hours and hours, so long, I gave it up as well. If I tried to carry on getting photos on, it’d be such a long job, I’d still be doing it on Tuesday! At last, I can put some on, at least one.

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This morning, I may have wassailed,
But, in a tumble, my head was whacked,
I felt weirded and wrongheaded,
My bonce was bruised and wounded,
All a part of my life and my world,
Accifauxpas, to me, are well-founded,
To get back up, I struggled & wriggled,
The catheter leaked, so I widdled…
I laughed; at the same time, I writhed!
Falling back down on the walker…
My neck was sort of whiplashed,
I swore and cursed, but I only whispered,
The Carer arrived; he was wheritted…
Got me up, in pain & urine-wetted
I cleaned & medicated, just as I wanted,
But my confidence by now had wilted,
Anne Gyna joined in, I wearied,
I had a private stocktake, worded…
Me and my brain witwantoned…
For a solution, I waited, & waited,
Peace of mind is what I wanted…
I prayed, hoped & wittered,
Eventually, I just whimpered…
So depressed; Is this life warranted?
My prayers were so wholehearted,
I felt even more withdrawned,
The realisation of failure wrangled,
I can’t recall when I last womanised!
The last time I was pleasantly wooed,
The loins moved, and I was wowed,
Then my leg lesion wheeped…
The fate Lucifer on me has wreaked…
Satins Curse blew & wuthered!
Another seizure, the brain whirled!
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I’m handwashing again. I laundered two Kaghoules and some socks, hung them in the wet room, and turned on the heater.

ABLUTIONS
The teeth & gums bled. However, that shave was better, with only one tiny cut!
Hoovered the hallway.
I took some boxes with the sorted waste bags to the rubbish chute without bothering anyone.
Medications went okay, well all apart from the fingal lesion, but I soon stopped the flow.

Carer Ahram arrived. The diabetic socks were put on, the medications were taken, and the daily catheter pouch was changed. It’s all good!

MY LONGEST-EVER SEIZURE!
I think Ménière’s disease brought on this type of seizure. I stop doing things when I get this type, but I am reasonably aware of what’s happening. I just can’t get involved until things are clear. But I could be wrong. This has been known regularly daily. I should think maybe nine or ten times a day, at least, and possibly more.
Alright, it’s a gusstimate! Haha!

Carer Joe came while I was out of it, but I knew he had been here. He also did the teatime call.
Medications and little natter of which U could take part. I like it when that happens.

I investigated what was available for my evening or morning meal in the fridge and freezer. There was much to choose from.
The fridage has never been fuller. This is due to my expert skills and ability to carry out, repeatedly;
after . By way of doing food orders that I can’t even remember doing. Usually, I end up throwing food I can’t afford to away weekly. As I cleaned the microwave, I often started one job and went on to another, forgetting the original designs I had started with.

Then, I wander off to do something else. The annoying part is when I realise I’d left the hot water tap running, the window open, the fridge door open, even the oven left on – in any combination! I once did them all on the same day. The hot water tap twice!
Sure enough, I wandered off and decided to open a can of water chestnuts, slice them up, and add them to three jars: one of pickled mushrooms, one of sweet and sour sauce, and one of black bean sauce.
I mixed and shook the jars and put them back into the fridge. Then, I had to nip sharpishly to the . A affair.
I cleaned things up.

Then, I returned to the computer to continue my Ode Creating task, which is one of my favourites!

CONTINUED...
An hour or so later, I felt doubts come over me. Thinking I may have left the hot tap running, I checked the wet room and kitchen.
All was good with the taps… but I’d left the fridge door open! .
The fridge had spewed out water down the freezer below onto the floor. Cleaning it up, I could smell vinegar. Huh!
One of the jars I’d just made up had a crack! Fancy that, I suppose I must have caused it; I recall struggling to get the mushroom and chestnut jar into the fridge. I moved it to the top shelf.
I had to clean each shelf in the fridge, the inner of the door, the outer of the freezer door, and the floor!
. I cannot believe today’s rate of mistakes, Whoopsies, Accifauxpa, cock-ups and sheer bad luck!
I was well weary, depressed, self-condemned, and self-denigrated. Self-disparagement. Self-ridiculed. “I’m afflicted with a proclivity for self-criticism whereby every blemish is revealed in all its unredeemed ugliness.” Angry at myself too!
It’s not easy mopping and hoovering with the stick, mop, bucket, and hoover, especially in my current state: back angina, Glaucoma Gladys fading, and fogging my eyesight. Which is typical for this time of day. Usually starts to fade around 17:00hrs

STILL CONTINUING...
I got back to the computer. Again, the fear that I’d left something wrong in the kitchen made me investigate.
Nothing was left on or open.
However, I had still not cleaned the microwave. As I moved it to clean underneath, I found these tablets.
Wonder how long they’ve been under there.
The tablets got me looking at some from the medical draw to identify them. They were clean-looking. I didn’t get around to cleaning the microwave! I must have lost similar tablets before cause this photo above was found on file, showing the worktop under the microwave. Angst and depression increased!

I am so tired and frustrated, and at this moment, I am full of pathetic self-pity and something awful!
I did not want to make anything to eat until the last Carer call. I’ll have to go at the WP reader & comments until he/she arrives.

Carer Ahmed came. Socks off, painkillers given.
I won’t attach the night catheter bag because I will cook a meal. I just hope it lets me use it in the morning. Cheers!

I got the photo to go on late Monday morning.
MONDAY MORNING: What a start that was!
One for the annuls of medical history!
Worth reading. You might not believe it…
But it was how it went for the first two hours.

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TTFNski, Each!
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Inchy: Saturday, 5th April 2025

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I had a vision, a flash-forwarded,
It left me feebleminded,
The future was highlighted…
I can’t say I was delighted,
Like when I was trothplighted,
I was tickled and enraptured,
A glimpse of the future I captured,
I saw it on the chessboard…
Then, in the clues of a crossword,
A black rook that waved its sword…
Lands attacked, the vision-clouded,
Those not killed hid or cowered,
The Black King felt empowered,
The landscape, already cratered…
Peace talks are being avoided…
Countries being taken and bisected,
Civilians, children, killed, mutilated,
The fear, the dying, unalleviated,
Families scattered & separated…
Water and power, both disconnected,
The Killing increased, transcended,
We’ll never see wars ended,
Pleas for peace go unrequited,
Those in need are just pitied,
Oligarchs increase profit illicitly,
Supplying arms to each party…
I am sick of this violence, sadly,
I hate the warmongers’ peccability,
East & West spout paradoxicality,
It needs one leader with precocity,
Before we all die prematurely,
Did the Bible-writers, they were many,
Suffer from psychomancy?
Our chances of survival are dicey!
Will Jesus return to set us free?
If so, he’ll need to show I.D.
Or he’ll get deported, surely?
Creating humankind was to me…
The creators Whoopsiedangleplopski!
Hope I’ve not wrote owt incriminatory!
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I moved into the circa 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, leg bandages loosening, recliner last night.
Well, at about 03:00hrs this morning.
I’d been getting myself in a proper pickle, making the photos safe for publishing. I got one on, and that was a terrible one.
I got the above graphics to go on. It took me hours. It just won’t take them at all now. A Monster Depression dawned, and I’m at my lowest point in memory. But things got worse…
I gave up and closed the computer.

I snapped the morning view I can’t use and put the kettle on to brew tea. The food was due to arrive, so I took all the bags, including the ones currently stacked near the door, to the waste chute. No problems, although started her tour of my torso routine. Not long after returning to the flat, and as I was cleaning the mug… The Carer arrived, and the second he came in, I sank into a state of… I don’t know what to call it; I started sneezing and coughing, neck and back pains came on, and a brand-new form kept coming and throwing all out of sync. I coughed a little blood at one time into the tissue. I think that was from gums or teeth, though. The young Carer was concerned, but he carried on, and I told him I was not up to tackling the catheter day pouch change at the moment, which I really wasn’t. Carer Ahram put my diabetic socks on and checked to ensure I had the panic alarm on my wrist. Talk about being foggy-brained, yet I recalled all this on the notepad!

A few hours later, he returned for the second call and volunteered to change the catheter day pouch. He did a decent job of it, too. By the time the lad left, my chesty coughing had eased and lessened, and the neck pain had eased, and Akram checked the taps as he departed.
ARRGH!
I left the hot tap running, so that kyboshed my idea of doing the ablutions until tonight, when the night heater starts working.

Then I became seriously depressed, deeply. I felt I could not cope and wasn’t too bothered about carrying on. I openly beg someone to help me with the computer again.
The trouble is that I can no longer understand written instructions and don’t know any computer jargon, and I’m getting increasingly confused.
Particularly with my stupidly leaving the hot water tap on again. I think I’m doing this more often than last week. The nurse may have come while I was out at the Audio Clinic, and I missed her. On the other hand, there are 2/1 odds that I will put the appointment down for the wrong day and/or week, and she might be calling next week. Then again, there’s a possibility that I dreamed of getting the telephone call saying she was visiting me to carry out another dementia test. What do I know!

I thought I’d added a photo to the file, and my spirits uplifted, I tried again with the other images.
Then I realised—I think this photo was from yesterday—that the thought of a photoless blog brought back the temporarily departed depression.

I decided to have an early meal, so half-heartedly. I realised it was already 17:00 hrs. I know I’ve spent hours and hours failing to get the photos to save.
Maybe the seizures did affect me differently and were from the ?

Not feeling right at all. This feels like something different to the usual collection of ailments.

I tried to stay awake to watch the football highlights of the day. I failed!

Another broken night’s sleep, but it was much longer. I must have had 5 hours of sleep!

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Beware of Oligarchs!
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Inchy: Friday 4th April 2025

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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.When 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: Thursday 3rd April 2025

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More Advice for Whippersnappers!
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Why does life go so dysfunctionally?
It’s worse when you get over eighty!
Things were once easy and elementary,
Just waking up is a struggle daily,
It’s hard work, hiding your docility,
Losing all of little in the first-place divinity,
You may keep some social logicality,
But relying on others benignancy,
You’ll no longer act condemnatorily,
Deprecatorily, reproachfully, harshly,
Limbs stop working, physically,
The brain torments you mentally,
Cataract or Glaucoma visually,
Catheter bag hanging on your knee,
Diabetes, & Peripheral Neuropathy?
Seizures, some short, some prolifically,
Allergies that send you psychedelically,
You decide to fight these, purposefully,
But not pseudo-scientifically,
You’ll try visionary things, quixotically…
You failures you accept quotidianly,
They put you in a bit of a quandary,
But you try again quintessentially,
You pray, beg, & hope for a qualificatory…
For a way to live again, more painlessly,
More reliably, more competently,
To find joy again, sociality…
The cartilage gives way on your knee,
You seek assistance medically…
Soon back home, having a mug of tea,
Crutches, walkers, some get them free,
If you’ve too much cash, quintessentially,
Then free ones will be only visionary,
Oh, to live life rambunctiously,
More importantly, it’s hassle-free,
Then, the bill arrives for your electricity,
The rent goes up heartlessly…
Food prices rise pitilessly,
No time for theory, with things pecuniary,
But ageing, ever-fading, irreversibly…
Life in the UK is now recessionary,
Oligarchs reacting unsympathetically,
HMG treats farmers, pensioners cruelly,
Scoffing at their voters, insensitively,
You youngsters must act rebelliously,
We oldies at best see HMG resentfully,
You must declare HMG’s risibility,
We’ll never see the end of war & poverty,
Murder, killing, greed or rapacity,
Look down from heaven or hell, happily…
Enjoy the long-awaited doomsday,
The end of the world? A catastrophe?
You’ll join us in Hell if there’s the capacity!
Voters have got to show more audacity,,
I dream of being able to again wee-wee,
By this, I mean, when I to, manually,
Be free of seizures and myelopathy,
Diabetic diabetes, not be so moody,
The depressions would leave me be,
Arthur Itis, & fungal-lesions go away,
My cartilages could work mellifluously,
I’d be freed of feeling minaciously,
To find a computer engineer, mirabiliary,
My hearing returns, miraculously…
My one dream left is to live carefree!
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It was a wickedly frustrating day! Not compared to the last two horrible days, mind you. But the computer toyed with me every time. Precious few photographs got on after the first few did, early in the day. Then freezes, and some fonts have disappeared. I spent so long trying get things to work, but without a lot of luck. I fear the worst, computerwise.
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The best colour ever, a three!

A dour morning.
The sun broke through later, but it wasn’t worth taking any pictures cause of the computer!

Colin Cramps paid a few visits today
(Old photo used again)

Carer Jo did the first call. He was helpful again with the mail. Thanks.

Ahram, the second. He tried to help with the computer problems, which I spent hours and hours trying to sort out. I didn’t!

Early in the afternoon, the weariness came over at its usual time. Then Anne Gyna woke up, and the mini-seizures paid so many short visits.

I made an early meal and took a photo, but I don’t expect it to get to the file somehow.

Hristina, the DVT Warfarin nurse, arrived and took some blood. I do love her.
(Old photo used)
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I was not feeling too good then.
Made worse again when the seizures kicked off and Ann Gyna joined in. I gave up trying to sort the damnable computer.

Washed the dishes, sat to watch some TV, and blissfully fell asleep around 17:20hrs.

1735hrs, the Carer woke me up.
So tired and in some pain with Anne Gyna roving about my chest, back and neck as if she was taking a hiking holiday over my torso! Haha!

GANNET INCHY!
Peed-off, frustrated, and coping with another Anne Gyna (angina) attack. Deeply depressed and fed up with struggling with the computer and CorelDRAW, I made an earlier-than-usual nosh. In the morning, it took me well over two hours to upload this one photo; the other six would not save to file! Grrr!
Beef & onion in gravy, with colcannon mashed potatoes and carrots, with the last of the milk roll sliced bread used to dunk in the gravy.
GORGEOUS!
I dined well, and Anne Gyna appreciated the stomach being filled cause she calmed down a lot!
Two hours later, after the Carer had been and gone, Anne Gyna began to worsen again. What did I think would be a good idea? To eat more!
Understand the pain that caused me to gobble up a full giant pouch of Cheez-It nibbles with cashew nuts, pecan and pistachio nuts in between! I think mayhap, may have helped me was scoffed away in between falling asleep and being woken by with more venom than normally used on me. I think I ate some nibble or other after each enforced-waking-up.

I could not get back to sleep this time. So, I put the TV on, and there were two back-to-back episodes just starting. I would guess that I must have nodded of for a few minutes what seemed like every few minutes. The jerking back to wakefulness was not hindered by this time, though.
Because I was enjoying myself so much again, that was the reason for my awakening! Right neck, jaws, left high chest, centre chest, left rib cage, lower chest, throat, back to the left neck… On and on. If her domain is my body, I think she must have taken a world cruise to issue her stabbings this time. Haha! Still, on the plus side, the steadied up, and I had few overnight.
It might be worth me remembering that. Do you think that when the come thick and fast, it might be an idea for me to eat a lot? Hahaha! It seemed to keep her calm tonight!

After missing most of the Heartbeat programmes through the mini-nod-offs, the food, the healthy and the naughty, had travelled down and through the pipeworks, and I needed to utilise the for a second time today. It may have been my uncontrolable hunger and scoffing so much that caused to be in total control of the proceedings. No doubt about it, it was the messiest mess for a long time. Maybe months!
I cleaned up myself and the Porcelain, during which an almost forgotten-about ailment accifauxpas took place. I ! Another rarity, I don’t think I’ve given myself a toe-stubbing for weeks now. Well, it’s a bit of variety for me. Hah-Ha!

With the minor kerfuffling and toe-stubbing, I was glad to get into the hospital bed. But the vague sleep that I was getting earlier, did not want to know. I still felt tired and weary but could not nod off for hours. When I did, it was back to the shooting awake with a jerk. I think I might be that jerk. Hee-hee! But it was good that after that, each time I woke, I got back to sleep easily enough.
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TTFNski, Folks!
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>>>>>TWO<<<<<
My memory has been slowly macilated,
Naturally, it cannot be modified,
My neurosurgeon tried…
That was much appreciated,
My memory then abscinded,
It’s new stuff can’t be remembered,
What bit can that is usually aberrated,
But old things are not abrogated,
When Grizelda and I mated…
The memory is now well dated,
But as clear, but abrogated…
As any bloke who’s been cathetered,
Such memories can get you castrated!

Fellow Foley-catheter-wearing men will painfully understand wot I mean! Haha!
>>>>>ARGH!<<<<<
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Have a Great Day!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

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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!
>>>>><<<<<
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!
>>>>><<<<<
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!
>>>>><<<<<
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!
>>>>><<<<<
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!
>>>>><<<<<
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Thanks everyone!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Tuesday 1st April 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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!

I’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!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ALL THE BESTEST!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Monday 31st March – Nurses Visit Cancelled

– – – GRIM REAPERS DELIGHT – – –– – – STARTED WELL! – – –
– – – Calendar Changed – – –
>>>>><<<<<
>>>>><<<<<
– – 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!
>>>>><<<<<
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Hahaha! Cheers Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Sat-Sunday 29/30th March 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
>>>>><<<<<
>>>>>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!
>>>>><<<<<
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

But I’ll not give up… Oh, No! (Well…) Hehe!

Inchy Today: Saturday 29th March 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Seizures increased – Falls decreased!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ODE WRITTEN MIDST MULTI-SEIZURES
I’m awaiting my next seizure, unobjectively,
Hoping for a mini-one, prejudicially,
But to me, even more essentially…
Depression’s bothersome, fundamentally,
The crux of the matter, that drives me potty,
It can be instant or come on accretionally,
The reason & cure leave me in abstrusity,
I get the feeling of being blameworthy,
Self-hating, ashamed, definitely guilty!
>>>>><<<<<
I can last for minutes or a marathon,
My neurotransmission can worsen,
They’re in the hands of the neurosurgeon,
But who can help with my depression?
Or is that too hopeful or a silly question?
I’m developing self-opprobrium,
Life’s a struggle, a daily ordalian,
Depression hits, I change into a chameleon,
Into a terrible bellyacher, curmudgeon!
>>>>><<<<<
Depression Duncan brings inner-anger,
He’s a sulking, self-pity, inferiority inflictor,
A mind-impinger, thought blocker…
A Peace, rest, concentration inhibitor,
I can’t help but to feel I’m inferior,
Depression Duncan, so frustrating… Grrr!
Comes & goes at his leisure…
No reason or logic whatever,
I’ll not be free of him until I pass over!
>>>>><<<<<
Will Duncan still be with me (shiver)?
That’s the first thing that I’ll inquire,
When I’m interrogated by St Peter?
I hope not; I don’t know the answer,
It’s peace that I need to acquire,,
I’ll cope with Anne Gyna & PN Peter.
Not Depression Duncan’s hellfire!
Death for me has just one bother…
Will I go to Hell with Starmer?
>>>>><<<<<
After five hours of waking up from broken sleep, I nodded back off for another full hour. I woke up with depression—Duncan in full flow. It took a few hours for him to give up getting at me. When I rang Sister Jane about the Nottingham Forest Cup Match being on BBC 1, I realised he had gone.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After over an hour of Ccleaning, deleting photos and graphics, the computer allowed me to save what I’d done on CorelDRAW and pictures from earlier. I came across this snap of a meal—with grading already done. Fair enough. I’m not precisely sure what day it was from because when I deleted the photos to make space, I got in a tangle timewise with them. I think it was yesterday or thereabouts. It was almost certainly taken this year.
I remember not cooking the lamburgers anywhere near enough, but thought I had, but no. I’m beginning to feel it was last night now, but…

The clock calendar was changed; better late than never. Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed.

Messy!

Again, but only for a couple of hours, after the Carer’s firsr visit, Duncan departed, and took over for an hour, or so, until once more and profound depths of misery and an uncontrollabe irascibility, self-petulance and testiness, were suffered. Deeper than yesterday’s, I think. But then, how would I know in my state?
Care Joe removed the dressing from the right knee’s wound and then put a fresh one on for me. It’d been leaking thinned blood(lymph fluid, I assume). I’ll inform the district nurses on Monday. Why does this always start on a Saturday?

After the Carer’s second call, I took snaps of the view from the kitchenette window.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching the balcony
To the left, with darker clouds

Not well, bleeding and seizure have really kicked off.
I’ll do a catch-up, hopefully tomorrow.
I’ll call for help now.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Thur/Fri March 27-28th 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Life has so many distractions,
And more than enough perceptions,
Of our needs and conceptions,
There’s a shortage of antediluvians,
Enforced bourgeoisification’s,
Wayward silly compunctions…
So many mental configurations,
Constant demoralisations…
Neurological dysfunctions,
I lose it if I get any distractions…
Short-term memories? Become delusions,
Taps left running when I do the ablutions,
Fridge and freezer doors left open frustrations!
Sleep & rest are not in my programme,
My parents were plebs, not patricians,
I’m envious of quinquagenarians,
Coping with mental maelstroms…
Like this ode, life has too many idioms,
Are there any cope-with-life’ enchiridions?
No avoiding the gloom and dissensions,
Rubbish issued by the epistolarians,
Lies from Starmer & his MP archvillains,
And I’m in a mess with my prescriptions!
No signs or hopes of any augmentations,
I struggle with life’s daily cacodaemons,
Will I end up in Hell’s cauldrons?
Many old men turn into curmudgeons,
My depressions are darker, not cerulean,
My ponderations are labyrinthian,
But I give the Carers my laudation!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Gawd Strewth!
What’s going on here? Now rest, no time, hassle, botherations… and unbelievably busy!
Contacted by email, telephone, or text today, and all needed time and concentration to decide what was what. I think I was in a spate of mini-seizures when each contact was made.
I got myself into a good het-up state, all worked up, and believe it or not, I lost the page with the details of each call from the notebook. Unreal!
I can’t recall many details, and this list I’ve dragged from my not-interested-brains memory box will likely be out of sync timewise.
Obviously, the domestic work of cleaning the wet room has still not been completed, after five days of hoping to find the time and struggling to catch up with my beloved blogging. I may have missed one or two off of the list.
Location: On the toilet – The landline rang.
I got to it too late. Darn-it!

Location: In the kitchen. The mobile rang.
I got to it in time, but I could not even recognise the voice of Caroline, the Doctor’s Surgery Nurse.
She rang back on the landline. She asked many questions about my health & concerns, bless her.
She will see me, possibly next week, but I’ve forgotten the date on the magically disappearing note sheet. She is going to put me through a Cognition Test regarding the dementia.

Location: On the Computer: The bank called; they would like me to call in the bank and speak with them. I explained the changes I was in at home, and they said to ring back when things have calmed down… Calm Down? For Me? Come on, “I’m obviously fated to confusion, tiredness and depression along with the seizures for however long I’ve got left”

Location Kitchenette: The Social lady called on the mobile. I can’t recall who it was or what was said, but it sounded like her voice. I asked if whoever it was could ring on the landline. But they did not call back. I was having a seizure at the time.

Location: In the wet-room, changing protection pants… I had a leak.
The door chime rang out. But when I got to the door, nobody was there. On the way back in, I knocked over the airer, which fell onto the second airer, and they both collapsed together. I then had to sort out 11 pairs of socks back into matching pairs and relay them on the airers. I didn’t mind at all. Liar!

Location: When the mobile burst into life, I was bent down at the freezer, trying to find the boil-in-the-bag of beef in gravy. British Gas couldn’t understand a word he or it said.

So many photos would not fit today. Well, wouldn’t save to file for me?

I need help again. I won’t be a happy chappie if things don’t get less harassing, gloomy, and mistake-ridden, or Anne Gyna and the Seizures don’t give me a break. I’ll have to stop doing this blog!

If it’s not CorelDraw, it’s Sandra’s Seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, etc. Something is always costing me precious time every day. I don’t think I can carry on much longer, and I’m not sure I want to.
It’s getting to me. Far less often does visit me nowadays.

Everything is a failure and hard work. I’m struggling with everything now. Nothing is getting solved, cured, or any easier or better. Sorry I had to say this!
I need so much help. I appreciate that it will not be coming. I’ll try to continue, even if it’s only an Ode now and then.
I have to accept how things are, I know. But is it worth it? Sorry again.

Morning.

Minutes later.

I sorted the clothes scattered all over the place to dry when they had been returned from the laundry. Taking this shot caused me a nasty near-tumble. Thankfully, Carer Ahmed helped me.

Bottom field and houses with some people who have family, can walk unaided, get their Glaucoma operated on, clean their wetrooms, possible have a computer or know how to get help with it when it plays up, maybe they don’t have a mechanical heart aorta, legs bandaged to counter the attentions of , both & giving way, in both knees, , , , , both their hearing aid broken at the same time. With , , , suffer from , , Taking Tumbles, a day, to keep the doctor away, , , , , , , , , , , use a , or take about two hours to get their done, or have .
Or any of my less frequent visitors, like , Four times a day (8) self- administered ENOXAPRIN injections,, , , ,
Is it a sticking valve, a present after the heart operation, or alternating between each visit with ?
I feel awkward & awful now! Tsk!