
A change in style for Ode of the day today,
Sarcasm I tried to avoid, store away…
Add intelligence, albeit adumbratively,
I tried to create an eclectic array…
Thoughts, & memories a personal breviary,
Steer clear of any lachrymosity…
Not to overdo my loquacity,
Or even mention Starmer’s lubricity!
Mix reality with dreams & veridicality,
To blend farce with pretend-unctuosity,
I was hoping for some theopneusty,
I failed in all; I just created self-anxiety…
My earlier ideas mentally acted evasively…
Doreen Dementia with great audacity…
Stopped me from accessing, acted evasively…
Dealing with my thoughts circuitously,
My grey cells, infested with a new proclivity,
My intended hopes fell into jejunity!
I’m sad now I’ve missed the opportunity…
I’ve lost my thoughts, plans & fecundity,
Fading intelligence & mental acuity,
Next week, I’ll be back again in Ward 23,
The nurse said for electroencephalography,
It records brainwaves, electroencephalographically
I wish I could have done this ode betterly…
It started so well as well… Pity!
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Yet another sleepless night! I went through the same routine. Last night I watched the TV in 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 to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV and eat the meal.
But Sweet Morpheus refused to arrive. Once more, I moved into the hospital bed. But the piles were so painful, I moved back to the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner. I stayed there with the TV on and nothing to watch, but as a general rule, this often sends me into the bliss of sleep when the adverts come on. Not tonight, Oh, no such luck!
I made a halfhearted attempt at straightening the hospital bed covers, giving myself a decent
For the first hour or so, I had no
I considered adopting another Smug Mode when I saw how well it came out. And took a
It was all over in about a minute. I passed so many soft chunky lumps, along with what looked like a good dose of gravy, that followed immediately after the approximately twenty cubes of poo had escaped! It’s a blessing in a way; the differences in colour, pong, and contents in my daily visits to the wet room’s Porcelain Throne.
Never ever the same twice on the trot!
As I belatedly got on the computer, Carer Alia arrived. Medications sorted and given.
I did well with the photo saving after using the cCleaner this morning. Only a couple were rejected.
EERIE PHOTO
I snapped a picture of the horizon. The mists in the background and the sun rising from the left behind the block of flats looked beautiful, almost surreal.
I made an Asda order for late next week. I shall make sure I get it right this time! No, I didn’t, after all.
“Sorry, something went wrong. Please try again later”
Well, I did several times. But no, go!
I went to the lift, down in it, out of it, along the connecting corridor, through the main foyer, and out onto the street. I noticed no bus at the stop. Maybe I was early. I hobbled hastily to the bus stop.
All that effort and pain to get ready as well!
Along the dark, dank corridor, then through the connecting swipe door into Woodthorpe Court, limped to the lifts, up in the lift, out of the lift, into the flat’s foyer, and finally back home to the flat. I think I sulked a little! I got iI got inside, feeling that my decision to go shopping was not a good idea. It took me yonks to save the two photos on file for use.
I had to use the cCleaner twice for some reason?
Better make my evening sarnies then.
The little scallywag took them while I was eating my meal & watching something on YouTube.
I had no idea he’d done so until he handed me my camera.
The Meal: It was nothing fancy. Two large defrosted cheesy topped rolls,
Cause I don’t know how I didn’t realise that Chris was snapping away with the Kodak. Hehe!
SADLY… Sleep was resisting again!
I didn’t even bother trying to get into the bed after last night’s ‘Oh, so painful’ effort at sleeping was, for poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I returned to the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner.
Initially, I had some success and nodded off for around about an hour & a half.
Then, the first visit for several days came from the nasty
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TTFN & Taketh Care, each!
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