Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

27/02/2025 / Inchie / 11 Comments

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GC blonde THE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
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A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
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04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about.
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris.
I’m losing the battle.

After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today.

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado.

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two?
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages.
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

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Eigðu góðan dag – Have A Good Day
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Inchy: Tuesday 25th February 2025

26/02/2025 / Inchie / 14 Comments

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Doing the right thing can leave you unrewarded,
Helping, sometimes, often, goes unrecorded,
But does it stop you from acting antideluvially?
To you, you’re just acting humanly,
Not wanting to be praised or highly regarded,
Without wishes to be refunded,
That would offend your gigmanity,
Like me, to defend your anonymity
Lest your generousness is noticed by Starmer,
He may sense he can get a backhander!
Especially if you’re a farmer or pensioner!
Your pension may get cut or rescinded,
You may get financially wounded,
By HMG’s mobsters and felonry…
Starmer so disgusts me!
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A busy enough day without my forgetting that the water was being turned off for a few hours while the maintenance team was working on a repair or adjustment for a few hours.
Which meant more confusion for my addled-seizure-prone brain. Someone was here while I had a non-epileptic seizure again. Getting embarrassed at these incidents.
A flash blog today.
If possible, I must complete the much-belated ablutions, and time is getting late and short. First, I have to see if the water is back on.
Ah, well, I’ll do what I can from the notes and photos taken.
Tomorrow is going to be busy as well. Thursday could be the humdinger if the doctor decides I need to go in for help and assistance. What am I saying? Haha!
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You may ask why my urine is in the day bag jug?
Or, of course, you may not… I’ll tell yer. Last night, I fell asleep before putting the night bag on. The day bag was nearly bursting when I woke up at 03:30 hrs. It pulled as I stood up, not realising I had not put on the three times more oversized night bag, and… well…
ARGH!
I naturally have a pain-resistance level far above others. Being the young, fit, athletic type of person that I am, I merely laughed off the entire incident. I smiled as I wiped away the blood running out from down my leg and foot and sang a song to myself as I cleaned up the carpet.

I visited the wet room and got settled on the Porcelain Throne.
A Fantastic Session!
For the first time in weeks, neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad controlled; the extremes did not rule the roost! Trotsky had an advantage, though, but not too much mess. And coming out to the kitchen, I was Anne Gyna pains-free!

I got Kodak Tim 2 and took a couple of photographs of the early morning view on offer. The top one is to the right, left one to the left. Maybe it was not my best effort, but that didn’t matter then. I decided to get the kettle on to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and then get on with updating yesterday’s blog; it was nice and early yet, so I assumed catching up and posting the blog should be easier than usual, and I could get on with this blog sooner than normal. Well, getting the update completed went pretty smoothly. It took a few hours. I posted it and decided to get the ablutions and medications done…
Then I remembered the situation of no water on tap.
I’ll have to do it this afternoon or night. There is no way I will boil water and carry it to the wet room to enable me to get a shave. The last time I had to do that, it resulted in some injuries and a right mess to clean up.
So, I wet some clothes in the sink from the kettle with Dettol and dabbed myself a bit with it. Hahaha!

I cleaned the kitchen window in cold water and warmed it with water from the kettle and spirit vinegar.

Carer Chloe arrived for the first call. Medicines were issued, and diabetic socks were put on. While doing this, I realised the catheter day bag was getting filled, so I emptied it into the jug. While talking to Chloe, as she stood up to check the taps, she pointed out that the day bag was leaking! And I thought things were getting better! What a fool!
I had not shut the release valve. Now, I had to clean the freshly put-on socks and the carpet again, which cost me a lot of time.

The landline chirruped. The DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse advised me she would come in the morning between 10 and 1100 hrs to take the blood. I’m not sure I’ll have much available after Little Inchy’s tube-tugging session earlier. Hehe! I put it on the Google Calendar to be safe.

Carer Chloe arrived to do the domestics, which she couldn’t do without water. She helped check some Emails for me and did the hoovering.

I was not in good condition as it was, but the seizure kicked off again, and my concentration was terrible.

The Iceland Delivery Arrived
There seemed to be a lot of bags. Then I realised I’d bought many Cheeze-It wafers, like… Nine Bags! Guilt!
They do taste delicious, though!
Does the fridge still have room in it?
I topped up the Carers & Nurses treat boxes.
I love the mini Toffee Crisp bars. Just enough for me.

Carer Sam came. We had a little natter.

I, at last, made a start on this blog.
Then I realised I’d still have the templates for March to do!
So be it. Last month, I completed them in less than three hours. I’ll aim to complete them within the same time. Here I go, with a start time of 17:00 hrs.

I’ve Done Them!
By 1855hrs! Honestly!

Varer Chris arrived while I was on the templates.
Medications given.

Now, my plan is to get something to eat!
Nordic Bacon (lots of it), roasted onions, cheese cracker biscuits and cheezies, cheese-topped rolls with Marmite.
I ate about half of it. Just made too much of it. Tsk!

Carer Chris called, returning the laundry bag. We had a little laugh & natter as he took the socks off for me.

Washed the pots and got down in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. To watch some TV documentaries. Zzzz!

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Catch you later, Pip-Pip
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Inchy: Monday 24th February 2025

25/02/202525/02/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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My pons may have become unattuned,
Pon a part of my brain abovementioned,
This has not medically been ascertained…
Just by my going lamebrained!
And visually, mentally purblind!
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Deep Dank Depression Duncan darkened,
Anne Gyna’s pains then reawakened,
I didn’t feel hard done by or condemned,
When the seizures emboldened,
My confusion exploded.
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Then I seriously contemplated…
My thoughts were multi-dimensioned,
I was soon feeling mentally drained,
As my limited capacity broadened,
My search for truth was disillusioned,
The more I gleaned and learned…
My faith & hopes were expunged.
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Was humankind Frankensteined?
As I saw a misty logic, I frowned,
Humankind’s faiths have not intertwined,
Humankind, revenge, greed, hate-ladened,
Always for wars, we’ve munitioned,
Compassion is no longer gleaned,
Commonsense is being overburdened!
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Words and gestures are too often miskened,
For peace, this world is not provisioned,
Genuine, kind gestures are unreturned,
Murdering, wars, unrestrained,
They were when killers were guillotined,
Now, after five years, they are freed,
And politicians are full of self-greed!
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Toward forgiveness Some are inclined,
For all who have misdemeaned,
The law is an ass that’s got beclouded,
HMG with oligarchs elected,
Muggers and rioters cautioned,
The future I cannot comprehend,
Not with Herr Starmer in command!
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– – CRACKING START TODAY! – –
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Today, Tuesday (Domestic), Wednesday (Financial, email, letters), and Thursday (Doctor’s appointment) are all going to be very busy. I’ll need patience, and they are going to be very time-consuming. Concentrating is necessary to avoid mistakes and prepare for the visits.
So, the blog will not have much detail. Unless, of course, I win the lottery big time! Then, I can afford to go private medically and pay for extra help. Oh, bother, I forgot I don’t do the lottery! Hehehe!

Sorry for the lack of the usual rubbish.
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Sprinkling of rain.

Another sprinkling of rain.

Afternoon.

Evening.

Medications looking relatively low. Some part boxes on the Carer’s table. I counted how many of each of the tablets, medicines and creams there were. The arithmaphobia made it hard work, but I think I got it right.
Then, I called the chemist to assess the situation with the delivery. She said it would arrive on Thursday or Friday, but they didn’t. No doubt I got something wrong. I had! The patient lady said or meant to say that the prescriptions would arrive at the chemist then. The delivery is monthly on a Wednesday. I’m still not sure which Wednesday, though. I was going to ask, but I was concentrating on what she was saying and didn’t want to interrupt her and get it wrong again. I asked her if it was this Wednesday, and she said yes.

So, I assume the delivery to the flat will be the last Wednesday of the month.

A lot is done in one sitting on the

Franks & Chips (bread coming in the morning)

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Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

24/02/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

Famous for my ability to talk bilgewater,
A bumbling-babbling, foolish blooter,
Searching for acquaintances that are boshter,
But always something of a boondoggler,
Then came a new ailment, bradykinesia!

I had a mini-todger, questionable cisgender,
I’ve still got it attached to a catheter…
Bald, so no worries over my coiffure,
Accepted as a bypasser or circumventor.
Never a winner, a 3rd place I’d chanticleer!

I’ve become an expert, frequent dégringoler,
Never was a fraud, cheat or deceiver,
Now, I suffer from dementia & dysphoria,
Unlike Starmer, I’m no denunciator,
The wrong word to describe me? Debbonaire!

Coffin-waiting, yet things can still enrapture,
A natter, laugh with a friendly talker…
CBD, magic mushrooms with elderflower,
Of course, I no longer use the chest expander,
Finances dwindling, so I must curb my expenditure!

I’ve led my life candidly, honestly, foursquare,
Getting annoyed at things that are not fair,
Like Starmer, PM, who lied to win, fibber!
Who loves a backhander, the freeloader,
Guaranteed to cheat, lie & work a flanker!

I’ve never been a dynamo, hero or go-getter,
I got cataracts then and still have glaucoma,
My failing brain & body is getting me grumpier,
I’ve avoided being a grammaticaster…
Now I’ve become a graphomania!

I’m an expert on my haemodynamometer,
But the stomach & body is getting heavier,
Mentally, I anticipate getting habromania,
There’s not much in my brain for it to hinder…
Only Dementia, my brain’s house-sitter!

We’ve Starmer, every day getting iffier,
Putin, who’s several countries inferior,
Hamas, Israel, peace inviting…
Amhara, Yemen, with Houthi insurgency,
Ethiopia, Myanma, Paraguay… insanity!

No wonder the world is getting jitterier,
Proletariats just want it to be joyfuller,
Leaders going for the citizens’ jugular,
Janitor, junior, juror, or justificator?
We have Starmer, the lying junketeer!

I find myself becoming more klutzier,
And unfortunately, more knaggier,
And maybe a snip more kludgier,
My ageing body, positively knurlier,
If only Starmer would act kindlier!

Can Starmer’s reign get any lousier?,
Can I get any more loonier?
I things go right, will I live any longer?
Do I want to? Can I get livelier?
Can I rid myself of this lacklustre?

Will Keir get even more of a miser?
£160,976 a year for Nottingham’s Mayor,
She is Councillor Carole McCulloch,
Why does the East Midlands have a Mayor?
Clare Ward, £93,000 a year, did I mishear?
A deputy Mayor on £46,500, Holy Mother!,

The end of the World is drawing near…
Maybe not caused by anything nuclear,
Possibly by a Green Peace neglecter,
Oligarchs, wars, or my Auntie Nora?
God, Allah or Jesus from Nigeria?

The end of the World is now less obscure!
Humankind will be the orchestrator,
A World leader on an overnighter…
To prove they are richer, the best occulter?
The most efficient proletariat ostraciser?

I now get more confused with my photocopier,
Camera, computer, & getting to Jupiter,
Anything mechanical, & phantasmagoria,
Also, of course, my own psychasthenia,
Not to mention my bladder parasitemia!

My right testicle went all quadrangular,
Had I a disease, a bug, a queller?
This concerned my partner & querida,
She said I’ve seen things queerer!
She’s such a quick quipster!

Life may yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!
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I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap.

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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Inchy: Thursday 20th February 2025

21/02/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’ve often been maladjusted, & maladministered,
My mind has often mused and meandered…
To topics that were miscomprehended,
Possibly, because I’m muttonheaded,
Peripheral Neuropathy gets me misguided,
I do things, say things that are misintended,
Links, intentions get misconnected…
Wrong spellings get miscorrected,
Plans, & intentions may be misconstructed,
Deafness can make things miscommunicated,
In 1965, the UK was sadly metricated…
Another HMG con job manipulated,
Centimetres’ in, inches & feet mutilated!
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2025: UK pensioners exploited by Starmer,
Then, he overtaxed the family farmer,
Repeatedly proved he was a persistent liar,
He talks to you like an annunciator…
We’ll do this, you do the other,
His smugness & immovability is an appetiser,
Heralding, the coming political quagmire…
Resulting in his being proved an ambuscader,
No PM has had a chin that is squarer,
Shame he isn’t fairer, more honest or a carer,
His red cheeks indicate him being boozier,
He’s so smug and self-preoccupied…
Credit due, he tries to look dignified…
As he’s cheated, robbed, & lied!
A Labour man who’s been Toryfide!
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The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
A disastrous start to the day? Yes!
A busy day? Yes!
Seizure’s hampering on & off all day? Yes!
Visits? Yes!
However, progress made with the help given? Yes!
Again? Yes!
While a Carer was in attendance. Yes!
On each of the wearying, there were at least six visits. Yes!
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Last night’s kip was horrible! I was getting woken up by one thing or another again so often. I’ll try to explain the new thing I had overnight that added to the jumping awake count. In between Eric’s Electric Shocks shooting up the right leg, Twitching Neck Nigel trying to break my neck, and Shoulder Shudding Shirley trying to dislocate my right shoulder, I believe I had some nocturnal seizures as well while asleep. I don’t suppose they were that, but they shared a similarity with some of the day seizures. As with the shorter day seizures, I can often feel them coming on, and these short ones can be repetitive and usually leave me feeling a smidge confused sometimes and always feeling weary, tired and exhausted. This likely accounted for me falling back to sleep quickly after each one. I think? I had visions with them… well, I sense I had, and they all connected to my early life. The Meadows, where I was dragged up, and the Nottingham canal that I got thrown in as an ankle-snapper were both in there, amongst many of the vaguer-memoried others.
I’m not keen on going to sleep at all tonight now.
Still, the Doctor granted me a telephone appointment for 7 days later, so if I can survive until next Thursday, I’m sure a few words over the phone will soon have me feeling better.
Sorry about that! Hehe!
Hence, The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
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05:00 hrs: I gave up on trying to get back to sleep. Although I’m sure I could have quickly enough, what prospectively awaited me had I drifted off was not appealing.
This is all new to me, the second night like it. But much worse than last night was. I suppose if it happens again tonight, I’ll have to ring the Doctor again and ask her to bring forward her 7-day appointment for an emergency appointment via a telephone call. I can go through the ‘You are 29th in the queue’. ‘You will not be talking to a doctor but a patient assessor’ once again… Tsk! Again!

Doing the ablutions I ramped up the Accifauxpas total somewhat. The usual with the shaving, 4 today… oh, cuts!
But the whole time in the wet room, there was no sign of .
The medicationings was going well until I had to stop medicating and use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation started of with a reluctant torpedo slowly edging its way out, with some encouragement from me. Then it altered and flowed out almost liquid? Amazingly, it didn’t leave any of the usual gutwrenching pongs!
I cleaned things up and got back to the medicationing.
I lost my balance as I got up from creaming the ingrowing toenail and fell backwards, landing on the shower chair that tipped over (well, it would with my weight hitting it, I suppose). I’d not hit the deck and stayed above the chair. I managed to haul my elephantine body back up on my legs with relative ease. As I was considering activating a , I felt the blood trickling down my left thigh. But it was not a lot. . The top holding strap must have got sticky with cream, and when I tumbled, it polled some hairs out and a bit of skin from under the belt. Despite all this, I was still in grip of . I finished the medicating and got dressed. Then, realising how far behind I was with the blog, I thought I’d better get on with the Ode first.

Carer Shaquille arrived. He fitted me with diabetic socks and handed me the medications. I asked him if he had the time to call the Social so I could order some more catheter bags, as I only had two nocturnal ones left. Just in case, I’d already ordered some from Amazon on the computer. They should be here today. So if they are, no panic mode is needed. Shaq did so for me, and it’s much appreciated. They should be here by Monday at the latest.

.
Everything was harder to do and concentrate on, and I was badly gripped by it for several hours. I had no drive or determination at all. During this time, I’ll try to recall what happened. There was nothing on the notepad at all.
To make things worse – I couldn’t find Koak Tim 2 AGAIN!
I looked on the stovetop where I found it the other day, but no luck. What the hell’s going on with me? I got the loan camera out, but the batteries were dead. And I wasn’t confident enough to try out the leads for fear of using the wrong one. Then again, I was sure I would find where I’d left Kodak Tim.

In the late afternoon, the Intercom rang. I thought it was the door chime, so I didn’t respond at first. Then I realised and hobbled as hastily as possible to the box, but it stopped as I reached it. So, I went downstairs in case it was the catheter bags, and they had left them in the foyer.
Down, in the lift, and as I got out, nine people were waiting to get in. I limped to the foyer but could see no sign of any parcels. Back to the lift, five people were waiting to get in, and one more arrived. I should have gotten in first, being on a high floor, but I didn’t think of it until they had all got in. Then I joined them, and it was a tight squeeze, not that I minded.

I Love it, getting captives to listen to my nattering on. Haha!

When I returned to the flat, I found the catheter bags outside the door. The day bag was a single one. £8.99. I got caught out there, moneywise, and a bag of ten nocturnal pouches for the same sodding price!

Again. There was no spell in between this time.

Relaunched attacks. And nothing got done of any value; Duncan & Sandra had got me beat.

I did have another search for Kodak Tim 2, but it was joyless. I thought I may have gone down to the lobby with it, dressed, and nipped down to investigate. Nope, it’s not there.

Carer Christopher arrived, and I asked him which charger fitted which camera. He wasn’t sure, but both connections fitted, so it should be all right. We gave him medications, chatted about the nighttime mind kerfuffle, and off he trotted. I totally forgot to ask him to have a search for the Kodak.
So, I had another search around for it. Nope!

Time to get some food. Came to life the moment I unexpectedly came across Kodak Tim 2!!!
I’ve made up two imaginary places and put the one where I found the Kodak. What do you think?
1: In the fridge?
2: In the microwave?
3: Shelf under the sink?
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I took these two photos of the sunset straight away. I don’t think I meant to take two, though. Do they look the same to you?
Maybe I kept my finger on the activation button for too long?
It could have been caused by my excitement at finding Kodak Tim 2?

Then. I got on with preparing the meal. A giant feast of beef in black bean sauce again. Two Parsley boxes. I added extra water chestnuts, extra sauce from a jar, potatoes, and a sprinkle of Pryprawa seasoning. Placed in a microwave-safe plastic tray. And guessed at microwaving them for 4 minutes. Singlely, they needed 1.5 minutes each.
I opened the door and stirred the mixture halfway through.
When it pinged, I removed the lid to see if it was heated enough. It wasn’t, so I put it back in for another minute.
This is the prepared and ready-to-gobble meal.
It was pleasant tasting and not too peppery.
But, after eating for a few minutes, I found undercooked cold bits and pieces. A shame!
Next time, I’ll give it a bit longer in the microwave.

The mood had been with me for over two hours now. And still, after I’d washed the pots, Carer Christopher made the late call! He whipped off the diabetic socks, and medications were given.

I settled into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. I turned on the TV and chose a channel with three consecutive programmes.
Heartbeat, then Sherlock Holmes. I nodded off several times when the adverts came on but saw most Heartbeat episodes. One that I’d not seen before.

Carer Christopher made his last call. No medications were needed. I was still in a mood!❤ 👍🏻 Carer Chris departed, taking my laundry bag with him.

I continued to watch the Sherlock Homes film. Edward Woodward played Sherlock differently, with less apparent overacting.
This 1990 TV movie, Hands of a Murderer, was his only portrayal of Sherlock. It’s a pity that following Basil Rathbone as Sherlock was asking a lot of any actor.

I turned off the TV and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. I know this, but I can recall nothing about the dream! I hate it when this happens. Hehe! I slept for about three hours. Then , and both almost made me bolt upright. Threw some wobblies as well. This was around 04:00 hrs, so at least I managed to skip for at least four hours! After this wake-up fracas, I could not return to the land of nod! I lay there, willing to go back to sleep. I realised that I had no Nocturnal Seizures like the previous two nights. YIPPEE!
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Today: A better Ratio of 35%,
Against, 65%