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MONDAY 19th OCTOBER 2026
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I was in the midst of my last horrible dream; I was trying to jump from a wooden string-roped bridge into the water below. Not worried about going over at all. But the odd things that kept interrupting and kept me from diving in were endless. Some I recalled the moment that Carer Andrew came in and switched the light on. I tried to stay with the dream, and I don’t think I responded to the lad very well. Well, you wouldn’t when a pink gorilla came from the trees and shouted that he is an Alziemers councillor, and started towards me on the rickety tied-on wooden planks, shaking the bridge all over, and this made me change my mind, and I decided not to jump after all.
I think, well, I’m almost sure that earlier an alien alighted from a dome-topped mini spaceship, laughed at me, calling me a whimp, and tasered me. Climbed back into his tiny ship, turned, put two fingers up, and said, in a squeaky voice, ‘Cheers, Dumbo!’)
Vague, broken memories of other dreams lingered for a while, and then I realised Andrew had arrived when the light made me jump and forced me into a semi-responsive state. I greeted him, and he didn’t look happy. Why? I wondered if I’d been doing the somniloquy stuff again when he came in. Last week, when Inram did a teatime call, and I’d fallen asleep in the computer chair. He laughed so much when he woke me. He told me that I was talking unintelligible gobbledygook and was using a fair bit of bad language, but laughing as I did so. Of course I didn’t know if I was somniloquying this morning, but I might have been. Young Andrew did not seem too impressed with things. Haha!
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Another horrible day!
British Gas called me; I found out why: Jenny, my Angel, had contacted them. The bloody mobile phone of mine. I so hate it. It doesn’t ring when anyone calls, and I can’t hear voice messages. BG showed 8 missed calls (which grew to 19). And 11 missed calls. Ejaz contacted them, and I had to give my email, name and address. While doing so, the bloody mobile disconnected. TWICE!
Ejaz spoke with them; they said they would have to get back to me in a few days to prove who I was… WHAT?
I began to be frustrated and mega depressed, and didn’t feel very good.
I tried to get some of this blog done, but then the Catheter started flowing back- the pain! So I took a Codeine and Morphine.
Agony, but to make things worse, I then took a mild tumble. Not feeling up to much.
I’ll have to stop here, sorry.
I was already worried about the visit to the Audio Clinic, and getting things sorted as far as I could, but felt even more out-of-it. Then the BG farce, and bloody mobile. At one point, I was on the bloody mobile, and the landline and the intercom rang at the same time. I reckon that helped me take the fall. The sodding intercom wasn’t working again; I had to go down three times to see who it was, and each time no one was there at the foyer door. Now I know I won’t have time to catch up on this blog, a chance I may have to go to A&E with the Catheter problem… the Carer to be asked to help me get dressed. Will the Catheter… Enough!
Might get this a little caught up tomorrow…
Ha! Just remembered I changed the delivery time for the food to between 21 & 22:00hrs, so sleep will be a more urgent need than whatever it was I was going to write, but I’ve forgotten it now. If my bladder backs up, I might ring the District Nurses? I’m fed up. 
A near-noon photograph from the kitchenette window. Very few photos taken today; I’m afraid they’re scarce, indeed negligible. However, that is due to cock-ups and failures on my behalf, but the main culprit was, without a doubt;
British Gas: oligarchs with the worst complaint record of any of the 20 active domestic energy suppliers supplying the UK! So many indecisive, detail-seeking, and rejecting phone calls made and received today.
There was no time to even start this blog!
In fact, and I’m not joking, it is now nearly midday on Wednesday 21st October, when I started this blog!
To make things worse, it took more time and was, frustratingly, mentally crippling, as Tuesday was as bad as Monday was for time and dwindling finances! I had no time to get any blog done, and with so much short, pathetic sleep, my body forced me to get some on Tuesday. When I was sitting at the computer, I couldn’t get myself mentally together to try to make a start… I did scribble a few notes, forgot to take the camera with me; I was so…
But I’ll get to that later. (I hope)
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British Gas
Here to Solve!
The lying Oligarch, communicatively confusing,
sourpuss, and AI, off-putting, rigmarole-ridden, sending us around the houses just to reach a human, although I question that at times, awkward, two-faced, off-putting, disconnecting our calls. They give us numbers, direct us to another company that, judging by their pissed-off voices, tells us to keep telling people to ring us, and we have no connection with British Gas! No doubt in reply to a management instruction, in a vain effort to reduce the amount of complaints by making sure we can’t get through, and giving out dates for service maintenance or repairs they have no intention of keeping?
I suppose you think that I am getting annoyed? Piqued, cross, aggravated, disgruntled, exasperated, irked, irritated, nettled, and upset with British Gas’s lack of honesty, cheating, misrepresentation, equivocation, deception, fabrication, fibbing, falsification, fooling, deceiving, deluding, hoodwinking, conning, tricking, bamboozling- are you? They are the most deceitful, underhanded, deceptive, chicanery-ridden, unscrupulous, devious, artful set of customer (non) service givers I’ve ever known. Bearing in mind, I have suffered similar avoidance & evasion tactics to suit their own measures from Virgin Media and HMG Customs & Excise. (I lost those battles as well).
Having tried all of the above, and failed.
Makes British Gas Customer Service ineptitude far worse (or superior) than that of all the other Oligarchs, guilty parties, and companies put together.
A company that exists to sort out people’s complaints against power-supplying companies will not help anyone using British Gas for electricity; see below.
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CEO Chris O’Shea: total pay package £4.73 million
A Genuine letter from British Gas Oligarchs to an elderly customer… Mrs Nightmare is not her name!
I’ve got to stop on this subject.
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Photos taken during the day.
Sweet & sour with egg fried rice.
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Sunset snaps
Last one
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TUESDAY 20th OCTOBER 2026
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DISAPPOINTING DAY
Little was achieved, compounded by the failure at the Audio Clinic, which at first seemed great but left a lingering threat of terrible things, like needing to telephone my Doctor, a challenge much feared nowadays, with the possible result being taxi fares to get my ears de-waxed. My Doctor told me that although she had cleaned the hearing aids, there was still so much wax in them that she expected the Cerumen to block things up again in a few days.
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PRE-DURING & AFTER THE VISIT
I spent an odd evening and night,
Nodded off in the chair, woke feeling shite,
Just had a seizure, became a somnambulist…
For 4 hours in the chair I’d slept,
Realising, quick as a sulphite,
Twas the end of my sleep tonight,
For tomorrow’s, to Audio Clinic…
The thought got me in a panic,
Things to plan, & with my Attention Deficit,
Details, timing, my brain went bicentric…
My mind resisted, went all abulic,
Wanting things to go right, I’m apophenic,
What to take, have I got the schematic?
Painkillers for knees & shoulders rheumatic?
Hospital Transport arranged, ‘ecstatic’!
Trouble is I’m so amnestic,
Expecting today to go all tragicomic,
I think my plans will turn out theoretic,
Lovely people at the Audio Clinic,
Surely, they’ll make me hear better,
Then I can offer them a douceur,
My offer in thanks will be sincere,
A Clinic? To me? More a sacraria.
But today, it was scarrier,
Tell you more later.
Later came Andrew, my Carer,
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The lift arrived from the hospital,
Two drivers, one short, one tall,
Got me there without a fall,
Into the crowded waiting hall,
Cram-packed, space available minimal,
No one spoke, well, said little at all.
As all awaited things audiological,
We got sat down; Andrew did squibble
When I stood up for an amble,
Cather bag was slowly filling,
Been there a long time, I wasn’t caring,
My name was called; we were led in…
Soon she hearing aid mending,
Then my ears investigating,
She said both ears need olive-oiling,
Said do that, twice daily,
She frowned, and said earnestly,
They’re working now, as you can see,
Expect another blockage, & quickly,
You must phone your surgery,
See if they do wax removal…
If not, you must pay for it privately,
Costing £50 an ear is normal,
I agreed, querimoniously,
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Then we left to ring for a taxi,
Then I started to get a little angry,
At the route taken, costing me…
I said, “Where are you going, matey?”
And this taxi cost was mounting,
I’m using GPS; where should I be?
I told him, pensively,
We got home eventually,
It was as much as going to the QMC!
Got up in the flat, Andrew and I,
I wanted, needed a mug of tea.
Thus today did not go satisfactorily.
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Bed, sleep seemed an attractive idea; but no!
I’d rearranged the food orders for late in the day.
The first one at 17/1800hrs, the second for 18/1900.
Carer Mirza called me; always glad when he calls. I planned to get down for 1630hrs to let him in, but I got stuck scribbling notes about the day when the intercom rang. I went down, but no one was there. I thought it was later than it was, and the wardens wouldn’t be able to let him into Winwood Court. I went back up to the flat and found him in there. To my pleasure, they were here because he’d arrived earlier than usual. Good job, too!
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Boiled two large spuds, cut
them in half, and added
some smoked vegan cheese
on top of each slice, and
they tasted Grrreat!
Lip-smacking good!
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First food delivery arrived early
Second one a smidge late
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Done for, fell asleep after washing the pots.
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WEDNESDAY 21st OCTOBER 2026
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Woke up after four hours’ sleep, with the upcoming acid reflux filling my chest, up to my throat, mouth and nasals. I was well disoriented. The Carer came in. I can’t even recall who it was, but I sensed I’d been hurried too much given the state I was in. He kept asking what painkillers I wanted. He then disappeared into the WC for ten minutes. No problem. He departed, and I sorted the bins. I was still not fully compos mentis. But thought things 
were becoming clearer. Still a bit vague, though. I then put some garden peas in spring water, some light soy sauce. I plan to add sliced potatoes for later.
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I looked at the Carer’s medication table and instantly thought, “Well, this needs some sorting out!”
But forgot about it when the intercom rang for the fifth time, and I had to shoot down to the lobby to let them in.
No one was there, for the fourth time. When I said shoot, a more appropriate word would be ‘hobble’.
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The mobile battery died. The computer would not start up. Nor would the TV. The intercom failed every call. The kitchen hot tap is dripping. The kettle went bang… but still works? I tried to count of many things I dropped, but lost track; there were so many. Ah, I found a loose page with numbers and details of some of them that I could not find or dropped: Saucepan lid, tea bag pot, pens (3), picker-upper (2), camera, mobile (2), hearing aids, toothache spray, Olive-oil dropper, water bottle (3),
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Carer Raj did the long call visit, hah! I’ll say no more; he’s a big lad, and doesn’t take criticism well.
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I thought this was an Iceland fresh cake, but it turned out to be frozen. Still, it looks like I’ll get some fresh Cream & Lemon store-baked ones from Morrisons next Wednesday. These are for my Angel & her hubby Frank, as a little thank you.
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Afternoon view before the rains poured.
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Yet another nodding off and waking up again every few minutes of the night.
On my way to the wet room, I went into the kitchen to check that the faucet doors and cooker had been left safely.
I got the bath towel from the airer, turned it off, ensured there was enough medical stuff to use, and started the proceedings.
hink I used a full roll of toilet paper and tissues to clean myself up after
Inchy’s pain. I was baffled! There were only a few specks of blood from the Fungal Lesion, far less than usual in the morning, yet while I was in the shower, no pain at all? I found out later that it came on mostly when I was seated throughout the day. I didn’t want to stop the showering; I enjoyed it so much. Little Inchy was not enjoying it. Because my taking off the bag cover pouch to have the shower meant, as I exited, the bag was swinging and pulling on Little Inchy. But I think I’d done well all the same in this session… Then, after drying myself off with the bath towel under the wall heater, I needed to get the medicationings done… Oh, dearie me! 
For years, I’ve left medicating the most painful, the lesion, until last – today, I started with that task. A few Oohs and the drop Arghs were expounded, 
with the odd Ouch thrown in. Perfectly normal!
cream. I put cream on a tissue or muslin strip and use the picker-upperer to get it on the ankles. No problem. The eczema on the arns was easy to reach. Then, the red rash was ointmentated. The ears were olive-oiled. 
Then, the not-cheap Blepha eye treatments were done. Thank heavens that the NHS has not stopped funding the cost of the 
Phorpain Gel for the knees, Arthur Itis, and Duloxetine Cartilages Carole & Chloe, and for Colin Cramps.
Finally, the ablutions were completed. It was a long, long session. After belatedly changing the date and day, I took this picture of the antiquated 1970s clock.
Jiminnee Cricket, the fog was even thicker now. Took this snap. 
. The lad didn’t need asking; he got the diabetic socks on, the med pouch, and the Vit B12 tablets. I thought, by gum, he’s on form this morning. Then I remembered I’d left the note on his table. Hehehe!
Good Heavens, it worked! I hastily uploaded the photos to the gallery, but I fear I may have put them in the wrong order, so they may be from different times. Sorry.
The Iceland delivery arrived.
At long last, there is food in the fridge. I felt guilty when Carer Chloe found all the food out of date the other day. Was it yesterday? Who knows, not me. Hehehe!
The three bags of frozen food to the right in the photo on the left cost me just a pound! They were battered fishcakes, battered fish, and battered potatoes. Lovely!
The fridge looked a little fuller now, and while putting things away, I decided to have lamburgers in wholemeal bread rolls, maybe with some tomatoes and potatoes, as well. Or Marmite rice cakes—I might like that.
I managed to get these snaps in here in the morning. Just before CorelDraw crashed again! Fed up? YES!
I thought I’d remember from which of the different views I’d taken these from, but CorelDraw kept refusing to allow me to save the odd one and I go confused as to which 
was which.
us. Hehe!
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On the right here is an admirer of Mr Clough, ‘Cloughie’. It’s Inchy. Taken this morning… with him actually smiling! Yes! Well, very nearly, anyway. That’s a rarity to be seen nowadays for the old fart to be doing. I imagine the old man was either high on drugs or Dementia Doreen was toying with him. Either way, the poor sod did not know how the day was going to go, obviously. Had his EQ or Alto Ego Inchie warned him, there would have been no smile on his face! He may well have been spitting blood & crying, too. 
I didn’t get around to this blog until 17:20hrs.
A little lighter today?
The most frustrating evacuation of the week!
Sheer agony, as the moulded-together clumps of product crept out so painfully slowly. I felt sure something was going to get ruptured during this session. The Germoloid 
cream was clearly visible in the almost black escaped mass. 
, followed within seconds b
It was only for a few seconds; it was as if I’d blinked and woken to find the pink spray bottle lying on the floor and leaking! Not a good start to the day! Then again, I should be used to them by now! But for some reason, I was riled by this Accifauxpas. Even more rileder after all that bending down had got 
misty morning. I stayed that way all day. However, I took this unintentional picture of the window ledge first. Clever that, how I didn’t realise. Ha-ha!
take the morning view.
Carer Maryham arrived and tried to ring the Community Nurses to order more day and night bags for me. But I’d given her the wrong number. She’d run out of time then, so she had to scoot off. She said she would ring them later and let me know how it went. I haven’t heard anything. She may be doing it tomorrow because I did tell her I had some left to use, but I’d like to keep the stocks up now that Kara is not calling. That was good of her.♥ She noticed me holding my arm and looked at it, taking a photo of it. More about that later.
I got back to the blog work. There was a massive cock-up, which began then!
I supposed they were triggered by the tension I felt. I couldn’t continue with the manual clear-out. After each seizure, I was lost, confused as to what I was up to or had already done. 
Evening photo.
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Jolly good colouring.
The burn scab had lost a few bits.
Made up some waste bags for collection.
Made a brew of Glengettie tea and got the computer on. I was already well behind and about to get worse. This is when the ‘Out-of-its’ started off.
First two.
I can’t tell if the blotches were there or not.
Ah, yes, this time I saw them.
Ham sandwiches and chips. I forgot about the tomatoes. Tsk! A pot of ketchup with pickles to dip the sandwiches in. Hehehe! Mandarins in an orange jelly dessert pot. Nice!
I fell asleep in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.
to blame. It was purgatory waking up so often, then chewing over the put-downs and mocking coming from within my poor brain. 
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, the Asda delivery farce, Little Inchy, and the catheter tube painfully in disagreement all day long, and so many 
episodes meant this was not anywhere near a good day for Inchy! I’m sure I had one while Carer Kara was with me today. Because I was not getting what she was saying about the text, I was left more befuddled than before I asked for help.
Very early morning view.
Porcelain Throne evacuation failure. Not only no release but no answers to the crossword. Tsk!
As I pottered about from the sink to the kettle back to the counter, I got the kettle on, went to the cupboard for the tea bag, took that and the mug to the kettle counter, and went to the fridge for the milk… I really thought my bad eyesight was fooling me at first when I dropped the spoon and looked down for it; there were trials of dripped blood all over the kitchen, some trodden on and smeared by my slippers. A closer inspection of the Little 
area revealed that blood was pouring out from near the catheter tube inserted, as it has been for over a year now in 
I cleaned up the kitchen and my body parts as best I could. Next, I was going to get a fresh pair of PPs Protection Pants) on. But what had happened in the kitchen that may have caused the problem dawned on me. I was taking the emptied catheter pouch with me as I went in and dropped it; I bent down to retrieve it rather sharpishly. That may have cracked the dried blood and allowed a follow-through? Hehe!
The delivery driver saw my predicament and took the food to the kitchen. Some were put on the floor near the sink…
Some on the kettle shelf…
The PPs on the cooker.
Bags on the floor.
Daffodils for the Carers on the draining board.
These are from a carrier I placed for photographing. I got things sorted and put away, but I could only see one of the two ordered packs of PPs and no kitchen towel. I kept looking around, searching. The email said they had been sent. An hour and four look-arounds later, I found them. They were in the hallway near the door, on the floor behind 
Wally. I took one of these out, asking the Carer to help me get into them later. I wanted to avoid bending.
The usual tiredness and weariness fell on me extra early this Tuesday. 
nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus, initially failed. I tried the trick of putting the TV on to watch 
my favourite TV programme, ‘Heartbeat’. And it worked, and I went into bliss… Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, reluctantly, he said, with a big grin on his face. Hehe! 
I had to get up to empty the 
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I made the last call of the day. I was so out of it with the blessed, deep, comforting sleep. I can see now why the lad removed the diabetic socks earlier: to let me sleep on without getting up. Good on him! He sprayed the eye spray on me, making sure I had to close my eyes first. Drinkie, nibble, and off.
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I chose to float and did so. Landed back on the carpet and could hear Acker Bilk singing ‘Buona Sera, Señorita, Buona Sera’. Angels descended all around me, miniature-sized; my beloved lost cat Cyril was lying on the recliner, purring heavily; I could hear him clearly. I made my way to fuss him… And then I woke up!
mudslide had reduced vastly.
Chimed, and into the room entered Carer 
. Who got the diabetic socks put on my legs and sorted the medications. 
food delivery arriving, Ocado this time. I can’t even remember making one with them. I need help with this problem.
was in charge,
was fighting back. A little messier than of late.
Back to sort the food. Surimi sticks, fruit in pots, brown sauce, lemon desserts, lavender Dettol, lemon mousse, black bean 
sauce and a can of ratatouille. I’ll try that tonight and see how it goes. Well, that’s the plan anyway.
Chunky vegetable soup, Lloyd tomato-type sauce with Mediterranean vegetables.
The two brown Italian tomatoes. came as three for a ridiculous price. But Ocado decided to send the pack with one of the ready-crushed semi-mashed and all runny. These brown tomatoes taste almost like meat; those I’ve had in the past have, anyway. 
Carer Sam called. And Chris returned the laundry bag – Yee-Haa! It may have taken me a few days to get someone to take it, but it came back this week. That’s a positive improvement.
I got a landline call from the QMC Deep Vein Thrombosis & Anticoagulation teams Angel Nurse, Hristina. She will be calling on Monday for the next blood-taking test. ♥
I got the ratatouille in the saucepan and added some canned garden peas. I could not resist trying some as I put them in the pan. With the Lloyds sauce, Tomato with Mediterranean vegetables. I think I’m going to enjoy this one!
for me to take a decent couple of sky-cloud shots as the sun began to dip. As I looked at the camera screen on Kodak 
Tim, I was chuffed with these, and after washing some utensils, I took a few more, which were a little darker than a few minutes earlier.
I pressed on with finalising Thursday’s blog. Then…
I caught a hold of the door when 
sent me all a-wobbling as I tried to keep upright. Of course, that didn’t help, as the door was open. I hit the deck first, followed by
few choice self-blaming naughty words flowed. Both knees, and for the first time, I noticed the backs of the knees were painful too? Mission Impossible (Painwise) was tackled
, leant against the chair then 
. I was thinking how much this hurt, and at, of all times… it chose this moment to go into action… Who was it? A 
!!!
burst 
and bled instantly! 
taken. I Phorpain gelled the Cartilages.
The sunset view cheered me up a smidge, though, all the same. I took a wide shot first, then a zoomed-in shot.
hours; There were no photos or notes to refer to until I found this evening shot. Not a good one, by the way.
Undoubtedly, it looked good, so I saw how it tasted. For once, no phone went, no carer called, and I ate nearly all of it with great relish and satisfaction! 
Did you find the spectacles?
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Well, it beat me; why was it so dark?
. I ventured into the kitchen to get the kettle on for a brew of Glengettie tea… but I didn’t make one as I got carried away when I saw the moon was clearly visible and fetched 
, I tried to take some decent shots on it…
Oh, dearie, not only did 
catch me out, but as I tried again, 
burst into a lively few minutes worth of shaking!
It may not resemble the planet, but I think this turned out to be an unintended masterpiece? Haha!
At least I got an identifiable one. But I was disappointed in not getting a close-up of it again.
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It’s surprising how my bad eyes can easily miss bits of dried-on gumph when scrubbing away in the oven.
failures. Then, as the Carer arrived…
I’ve not recorded many because I had no internet to record them on. Hello…
I sorted out the waste bags.
Got some small potatoes on the crock-pot. I added a good splash of sea salt and a sprinkling of the gorgeous-tasting
seasoning. Not unlike Worcestershire sauce, a little less intense, but the flavour lingers on the tongue more.
Mostly liquid!.
With the smoke & mirrors, number-crunching, fact-fiddling, 
giving me so much time to curse, spit and throw oaths and curses on them, it also gave me a chance to try to see why they are getting into, by investment or buying them out, so many, most if not all of the European internet suppliers. And yet, they are proving incapable of maintaining a service connection? And are they ruining the reputation of all suppliers? 
daily, or weekly for the appropriate rates. Further proof of the double-dealing, money-manipulating, by the esteemed 
.
has been, I’m going to tackle the biggest job of any day… Getting a wash and shave! There is no showering today, not with the bandaging on my right leg. Joanne took off the strapping and diabetic sock for me from the left leg. Bless her cotton socks! ♥ 
It should be a quicker and safer task today. No need for me to get dressed afterwards… well, slippers, a quilt, and a dressing gown are all I shall adorn. 
However, using the short picker-upperer, I caught the release valve on the Catheter bag, so I had to rewash the legs, carpet, and floor.
arrived. Issued the medications, and he was overjoyed at not having to do the task of 
Hehe! 
As I unscrewed the cap, a third of the contents sprayed out! Onto the computer keyboard, the leg bandaging, the recliner, the clean dressing down and my chest, face and hands, and the carpet, for many feet away!
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adopted! However, I did leave the oven on a high setting after making the meal later on for three extra hours. Certainly warmed up the flat! I ate the terrible meal and fell asleep in 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 realised also that the tablet Finasteride, for reducing my prostate size so I might be 
able to see of my own accord through Little Inchie, is a morning one, but it didn’t look like them? I discovered a strip of Warfarin tablets was put back in the Finasteride box!
What, me… Worried?
Removed the night pouch, initially with ease…
As I got up right after bending, two of my ailments had a go at me at the same time. 
and 
. I ended up falling backwards, onto the £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working, recliner, with a hell-of-a-thud!
, onto the Protection Pants, the new dressing gown and trickling down the back of my legs! 
I used the ready torn-off kitchen towelling to clean things up a bit. No Germoloiding yet, as my plan was to get an early ablutioning session and also needed the Porcelain Throne.
I wrapped the bloodied stuff and pants wrapped in a blue bag and put them in the waste bag. Then off to the wet room.
soon stopped leaking.
Well, without my glasses on, the towel sort of blended into the white of the WC. Haha! 
My rear-end Whoopsiedangleplops was tended to first. Not bleeding now, but tender to touch or sit down for a while. Hehe! The ointment eased things considerably for me.
Areas attached to 
, knees, and around the privates’ department were well-smeared.
.
This one was taken through the glass.
Methinks the front room needs tidying up?
Back into the wet room to have another look for the missing long-distance spectacles.
.
.
.
.
It looked okay, and smelt nice… but was
The potatoes were tasteless, with far too much garlic. The chunks were also bland and tough to chew!
I had, what I consider to be one of my worst (Most Painful) ever, 
. I used so much bad language and got a sore throat afterwards! I’m only joking, I didn’t get a sore throat!) I did take this photographicalisation of the evening view, from the kitchenette window, though.
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My recently acquired inability to absorb facts, figures, numbers, dates, and names and my chronically-bad memory are worsened by oligarchs 
& the company they bought and destroyed; for some obviously underhand ulterior motive, 
writing with
, 
, naturally
Don’t help me either. I’ve got to get this out of my system, even if 
s, Mr Fries, the $26 million salaried boss, sues
The attached night pouch was darker than of late. But only just inside the ‘Drink More Fluid’ area of the NHS scorecard by a little.
arose, so off to the wet room, using two sticks this time. I’m a smidge worried in case the left leg collapses again. But it didn’t… had I just taken 
, or mayhap 
alone, I can’t help but feel the leg would have gone on me again. Hehehe! 
My heart warmed when I got inside the wet room, and noticed I’d scrubbed of the “Do Not Flush” I’d written on W.C. the water tank. Tickled pink at knowing the tank would refill without me having to lug all the water from the kitchen to get it refilled. Thanks to Deana for ringing the maintenance for me about it.
(It got a lot worse with doing all the walking on Friday, to get to the bank, and sort it out tomorrow!)
The red marks under both arms had returned, but I had some of the ointment left that I used up. The usual procedure of 
was performed, without any further 
.
Tea & bikkies time, then got the computer going…
.
They outshone their own usual incapabilities today. 
rang out, and Chris entered. 
eye drops first, then the medications, and then the second 
drops. Kind of him; I think he understood how done-in I was.
tormented mind.
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. The evacuation was swift and, for once, not splattery or overly messy. Only 
and of course, the Queen of ailments for all of last week, 
, was reaching an 8 on the pain scale meter. Lugging the bowls of water from the kitchen to refill the non-working WC tank three times each flush… well, it’s some exercise, innit?
Pottered about making up and sorting the waste bags for collection. And the morning Carer arrived. I took the tablets,
was here, the Asda order arrived.
Shaquille helped to carry them through the kitchenette with me.
And tons of canned peas and various other vegetables.
Around 13:00hrs, I heard the mobile tone ringing.
It landed on the spot it had been hiding in…, but despite it being on the carpet, the back of the phone came off!
launched an attack as I stood upright.
I smelt the day long taken to cook soup burning, and I hobbled hastily to the kitchen to turn of the heat and hope for the best…
Then realised I’d left the hot water tap running.
There are depressions and depressions of differing characteristics – I nearly went into each one!
And had a few minutes of pareidolia joy.
I prepared and dined on the vegetable (it-came-out-horrible) soup, with rolls and a mistaken thought it would be delicious plain yoghourt with a pot of orange jelly in it. The Carer arrived as I was tucking into it – no, that’s not the right word; tucking in suggests that someone was enjoying something. 
And yet, I ate it all? 
. Even the jelly & yoghourt was tasteless. The Carer gave me a Covid Test yesterday, and it was clear. Taste rating: 2.5/10!
woke me up every few minutes, which is not unusual.
I had to get up to empty the day pouch of its contents and wash & disinfect the container.
containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner. I nodded off quickly for around about ten minutes. But the damned rotten