Inchie Today: Thursday 30th July 2026

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UK’s Latest Flare-Up
Newest outbreak: An area of about 600m by 200m (1,968ft by 656ft) was alight in Abbot’s Wood
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Thursday 30th July 2026
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06:10hrs, almost an : As I blurbed back into faux-life. To the sound and sensation of what felt like a bubbling evacuation doing its best to escape. Although this was a semi-panic moment, I recognised the foul acidic after-seizure tasting reflux on its way up through my throat, mouth and nasals. Meaning my balance was not so good, but I used all speed available to get up and hasten to the wet room. Before I’d left the room, I realised that the evacuation was gaining impetus, and an aroma, if that’s the word, escaped and permeated the entire flat. Most fortunately, the WC door was only about five paces from where I stood. Which equates to about ten of my shuffles.
I was certain sure that I did not tear my protection pants down in time as the flood, nae, torrent began. Once it had finished, I nervously checked the state of the PPs. Fabulous! All was white! Can’t I say the same for the Porcelain? This fortune seemed to ease the depths of my depression; I liked it!
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I took off and emptied the nocturnal night bag, cleaned the room’s furniture. Then had a wash, shave, and was about to clean my teeth, and the intercom rang out. I got to the panel, but it had gone wonky again: no sound, but it showed the view for a second.
 It was a food delivery.
My depression sank again. Why the Hell, how the Hell, did I order food again? I think I may have made the order for next week; later, I found it recorded for next Thursday on my calendar. I tried to blame it on my Arithmaphobia, the Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Toothache Tiffany, Fractured Knee Frank, Arthur Itis, anything but myself. I lost the plot there again. 

I had to get a dressing gown on quickly, to get down to let him in. But, no, by the time I got to the lift, the driver was getting out-of-it. A sociable chap. When I mentioned I ordered for the wrong week, he told me I’d be surprised by the number of times that older people have told him the same thing. Which is basically the same as the Iceland driver told me two weeks ago.
There’s a moral here. Somewhere?
He helped me get the food into my carriers. Then asked me to amend my telephone number on the J Sainsbury site; he tried to phone me earlier, and the number JS gave him was not recognised. Also, next time you get the day wrong, or forget it, or are unprepared, I can call. Hehe!
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I got the food away, and hoovered the flat. Then I emptied all the waste bins into one big one. In what turned into a vain hope, that the Carer would trip over it and take it to the waste disposal tunnel. Hahaha! 

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I tried to get my slippers and protection pants on. Coped with the PPs, but the slippers were too painful.

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♬ Oh, Susana ♬ chimed from the doorbell; in walked a Carer. Not even noticing the waste bag. Med’s issued.

He took this shot of my extremely long-nailed, painful, Raynaud’s phenomenon-ridden toes. But the legs and feet have lost all their swelling. He is doing a long visit at noon. I asked him to replace the day Catheter bag. He still thinks it is two-week changes.
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I got on the computer and swiftly got lost with what I was doing, done or going to do. Thus, three hours later when the Carer returned, I’d only just updated yesterday’s blog. 

I asked him again if he would go shopping with me. No answer. So I pointed out he refused to yesterday, saying he’s going tomorrow. I had to convince him, and showed him the vegetable stew I’d been making. How can I have a vegetable stew without potatoes? He scowled a little, but I put pressure on him and by the time he’d dressed me and we got to the bus stop, he was back to normal. Sat on the bench with his mobile out.
We were soon in Sherwood, and walking up Mansfield Road towards Ozan store, Carer told me we must hurry. I said I’m doing my best, and gave him an Inchie stare-glare! When we arrived at the store, he’d mellowed and took an interest and helped me get a selection of foods. We got some Soda water, Hungarian. Couldn’t find the French cheese I got last week, but he chose one for me from the other blue-veined cheeses. We investigated their wonderful deli-meats counter; they had none of the pork I wanted, so the Carer took me to the prepacked meats and found some smoked belly pork that tickled my fancy. The veg they had was not fresh, but I got a carrot and a bag of potatoes, the best of a bad batch, with help from the Carer. I also got a mini-sized thick-coated lemon madeira cake, well, two of them. One left now.
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Paid up, and back up to the bus stop. Carer sat down on the floor near the bus stop; due in 18 mins and back on his mobile.
I kept talking to him, which was not appreciated. So rabbited on even more. Hehehe!
Back to the flats, and the lad seemed to cheer up a smidgeon. Hobbled through the three flat block sections, and in the lift back up to my cell.
Carer got his coat on. I said farewell; he said, Arnie-like, I’ll be back. Haha!
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I added some carrot, sliced very thin so it would cook quicker. After all that, I cut up spuds thin again. Cut some more yellow tomatoes, onion, water chestnuts, sweetcorn, chestnut mushrooms, left on a low light.
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Back to the computer, still struggling to concentrate. Jenny’s hubby, Frank, came in with dried laundry for me. So kind of him. Bless him.
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Carer came for the 16:00hr call. Medications issued.
I was feeling drained, and my eyes were worse than ever. (Cataract). I have to keep trying on and changing to a pair that might be easier.

It’s been around erm… I believe it was April when I went for the preop checks, when I had a seizure. and got another last week. It’s been a long time, and I’ve got to wait again now for the operation, well, lasering. Jenny had a similar kerfuffle; she was telling me. When she finally got to have the operation, they decided not to do it! Poor Jenny! 
I struggle with seeing the keyboard, especially worse in the afternoons and evenings.
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The vegetable stew/soup was served up; not a lot. Much of it seemed to have gone and evaporated? What did I do wrong in the cooking process? No idea! However, it tasted rather good. Taste Rating: 8.8/10.
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Carer Mirza did the last call, and very Welcome. The lad is a Gem. I was so tired. I still hope for a miracle, and Mirza & Ejaz can start visiting me again. But, with me deciding to try and cut out the long visits done by the uncaring young bully-boys, I’ll stand no chance now.

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TTFN, Keep safe, and Good Luck!
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Inchie Wed 22 July: Off to the EENY for Cataract Preppimg

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Inchies Hospital Day Blog
Wednesday 22nd July 2026
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Might be short, timewise, medical limitations, and the cost of the bloody taxis might bankrupt me. “Tsk!”
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Another broken sleep pattern. I rose, jumped out of the bed, did a double somersault over 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. Popped out onto the balcony and sang a good morning yodel to the local neighbours, and did 200 naked press-ups…
All right, I know, I know. I’ll start again then.
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I woke at 05:15hrs, and stayed there, dejected, morose, and stayed in the same position, physically, but under the strain of mental turmoil and depression, for an hour or so. Thus, a normal awakening.

Again, I’d not put the night pouch on last night. It was so blown up I expected it to burst, but it didn’t. Was my luck changing? Hahaha! What a daft thought!
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I measured the jug of urine
, and guessed the colour, and hastened, albeit it more of a hobbled-swift-limp, to the Porcelain Throne. This evacuation was in much more of a Constipation Conrad style, a rarity of late.
Much to the displeasure of my haemorrhoids. Little cleaning up was needed, & no escpages. Which was a nice change
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Of to check if I’d left anything on the cooker, left the fridge or freezer doors open, or taps left running. Then took the potatoes from the pan, ran cold water on them and threw them away. Krangleturds! Then washed last night’s pots I’d left soaking in the sink.

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My mind semi-engaged, as I remembered this was the hospital day, and faux-planned what needed doing in preparation. Which, as usual, I abandoned and started doing something else. This time I strayed off the plot, and did the Health checks. And was pleasantly surprised to see (both of the day were) figures in just High. 

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I got the computer on, and realised I’d not made the list of things to do and take with me to the hospital. But got sidetracked in my mission, as Carer Akram arrived.

He noticed a fresh bruise on mt forehead. He took a snap of it with my camera. I could not see a bruise. Akram is a good listener and remembers things that I ask him to do, MedPhorpainand started without any asking or prompting. He Phorpained my back, neck, and shoulders after using the remover spray.

Issued the medications. I forgot to ask him to have the Catheter bag changed. 
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I spent a while making a list of things to do in preparation of the hospital visit, what to take with me. Mizra reminded me to take the paperwork last night, and put it into the waker-trolley for me in a hard envelope, bless him. The camera was too big to carry. A Kodak, and an old Kodak, so it is rather bulky and heavy.

Hearing aid in the tab-holes with new batteries, and both of my prescription glasses. Added the bus pass if needed, and enough money for the taxi each way.
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When the next Carer arrived, he thought that there would be no Escort coming. Then I got an email saying the Easy-Link lift to go to the QMC EENT had been cancelled due to the bus breaking down.

This brought on anger, as my bad luck gets more frequent every day! A deep depression, and fear about not having enough cash to pay both ways for taxis!
With a chance of no Escort as well, I was ready to call it a day. But I think a Carer said it was arranged, but it won’t be me… I clung to the hope.
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I turned off the computer, and pressed on with a stand-up wash, shave and teggie-cleaning in the wet room.

With a most disturbing uncertainty.
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As I washed and shaved, the telephone chirped into life. 

I got to the landline, and it was the Doctor’s surgery receptionist, giving me the INR test results.
I returned to the wet room to find I’d left the hot tap running and now, potentially had the cleanest wet room floor than ever before. I’d just put soap powder and bleach in the sink to soak the flannels, then the water spilt over onto the deck!
As I was mopping it up, I knocked a full kitchen roll into the flood. Without thinking, my mind at this point was engaged with self-pity… I bent down to retrieve it, and hit my head on the edge of the sink. Then the intercom
 chimed up. No video on the screen, just black. I pressed the open door button, and returned to the wet room and hastily got some more water to go down the drain hole.
Whoever it was on the intercom had not arrived yet. 
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PREPARING, TRAVELLING TO,

TREATMENT AND RETURNING
What a wonderful pleasure; it was Carer Ejaz who arrived to be mt escort to the hospital! I could not help myself and hugged him as he entered the room. Bad news about having to get taxis both ways, but he was such a help in getting me ready, and a comfort. He went through the list and made sure I’d got everything needed for the trip. Ordered a taxi and got me dressed; I gave Ejaz all the cash I had to sort paying the drivers with. And down to the main foyer in plenty of time to meet the cabbie. Helped me into the car, but the trolley walker collapsed in the boot, and we were off on our way to the hospital.  
The driver got us there in plenty of time. But by the time he’d struggled to get somewhere to park and drop us off, things were a little tight. £8.90, not bad that. I went in; no one was on the reception desk. Ejaz asked someone where we should be, and we were sent to the lifts. Once we got there, I recognised the layout from my last visit. We signed in and sat down waiting to be called in.
A few minutes later, a lady came and called out my name, and we followed her to a treatment room. I thought she looked like the lady who was treating me when I had the seizure. When we got in the room, I recognised her as the same lady. She was so understanding and patient with things and me, Bless Her.🌸🪷
A long session of eye-testing and Q&As followed. She was understanding of my struggle to get into position on the viewer, with pain from arthritis in my neck and shoulder. Never showing any sign of frustration. Nine different tests were done on each eye. Then the wall chart readings through different holed cards, and with various other patterns, were done. At this stage, she kindly explained the result so far. This was prompted by my Ejaz saying I thought I’d got Cataract in the left (far worse vision than the right one), and Glaucoma in the left eye. 
I was wrong. I’d got Cataract in both eyes. The floaters had increased greatly in the left eye, and were starting in the right one. Then she explained how serious it was, much worse than they were in her tests months ago when I had the seizure. That stopped the proceedings as she thought I was having a heart attack, and she called the CAT team, and I was kept in cardiac overnight. 
I did mention that when I’d been home for a few days, I was not sure if I’d been fully assessed or not. I called the hospital and asked if I needed to come in again, or await further tests. I was told, “They do know what they are doing”, and the phone died. She seemed concerned about this, and it prompted an apology for it taking them so long- months- to get in touch with me.
Then a lady said I need further tests in the scan room, for further examinations to clarify her own findings. She led us back to the waiting area, where I found a slightly higher chair to sit on as we waited.
I can’t recall the name of these scans, but they were better than a kaleidoscope, and much brighter.
On both eyes, she took several different scans. I was struggling to keep perfectly still, and she had to do a few again. But she was patient with me, and talked throughout, explaining what she was testing and what she was testing. But even with the hearing aids, I didn’t realise this; Ejaz told me afterwards. 
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Then all done, the first lady collected us, and we went back to the first treatment room. One more test on both, for clarification with scans.

Then, some eye drops were put in. I was given two double-sided A4 print-outs, with tips and procedures to be followed, and follow-up guidance. The print was so tiny, minuscule! She recommended that I get someone to read it to me. Had she noticed the hearing aids I was wearing?
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I was hoping to get the tram & bus back home was we left for the exit; both free with my passes. But no, Ejaz (not his fault) ordered a taxi, as he had to get me home quickly, as he had his regular client to visit. My immediate thought was, why am I no longer a regular with Ejaz? I sense some ulterior motive for this. Thus my £39 in the morning dwindled to £3.45 by the time we got back to the flat.
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Well, gone midnight now, I’m so weary. I’ll try to make a meal up, and myself get to bed. Not that I anticipate getting much sleep. So many nights of broken sleep, with the mind always rattling away reminding me of my multitude of unresolved problems,
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TASTE RATING: 7.1/10
Knocked ice off of individual clunks of out-of-date chips from the oven. They were not as good-tasting as anticipated. But the no-butter buttered bread rolls, and last of the Roquefort cheese? Delicious!

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🌹🌺🌷TTFN🌷🌺🌹

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Inchie Today: Saturday’s Waffle & Odes20th June 2025

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G: Ayup, midduck, yer looking rough…
I: You would be if yer had my unlucky stuff,
G: Complaining again, always moaning,
I: I’ve got cause for bemoaning & groaning,
G: Have I upset yer yet again?
I: Nae, I’m sorry, everything’s going wrong,
G: Yeah, tell that to every time I come along,
I: I always have bad luck attacking, with increasing unsolved problems amassing,
G: Yeah, I know that, obviously…
But helping you cope could be tricky,
I: All you do is take the piss out of me!
G: Can’t blame me if you’re off your trolley,

I: Do yer mean sort of mentally?
G: You’ve lived too long, yer going bonkers!
I: Nae, I’ve been that since the sixties,

G: Yeah, also a worthless bupkus…
I: Hang on, bupkus, what’s that? Tell us!.
G: Man of no value, significance, or substance!
I: Why are you making all these besmutches?

G: You were caught wearing bodices…  
I: I was only four, they were my mams’
What’s all this to do with my problems?
G: Don’t get upset if I get carnaptious…

It’s what happens to your soul that matters,
I: You’ve come to add it to your collections? 
G: Oh, aye, we Reapers are also clavigers,
I: Blimey, more rare words, go on tell us…
G: We’re your soul’s caretakers, custodians,
I: I’ve lost your plot, worra yer saying?
G: It’s compassion that I am relaying…
I can return your soul as you get buried…
So you must avoid being cremated…
See? I can have you resuscitated!

I: And I can live again? Sort of reactivated?
G: I guarantee you’ll not be disenchanted,
I: Reincarnation? Makes me feel dejected!
G: Typical answer, I expected!
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THE DAWN OF ANOTHER DAY
Saturday 16th June 2026
Terrible night again last night, but at least the crippling mind and body failures of Friday have not affected me at all this morning. I’m curious as to what caused my problems yesterday. But so glad that Carer Ejaz made the first call. To take good care of me, I appreciated that.
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I finished off yesterday’s blog, turned off the computer, and settled in to watch a series of three World Cup Matches. But, fell blistfully asleep. For the longest period of the night. About half an hour. Then Carer Andrew arrived and woke me up, much to my discontent.
Medicines taken, legs Cetraben-creamed, Shaking Shoulder Shirley & my back was Phorpain gelled. After the lad had gone, I felt sure that sweet Morphius would enfold me again.
He didn’t. For the next five hours, I kept nodding off, but only for a minute or two, and sprang awake accompanied by various elements,   and  a few times in a “Where-the-Hell-am-I” mode. 
My intentions to get up were prompted by the arrival of . But at least I got up today without falling back down again. That was pleasing. I pressed the ‘Booster button’ on the meter and sat at the computer for a further hour or so. hoping the water would heat up. 
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I replied to an email from Jenny, then went to check the heat of the water from the tap. It was not exactly hot, so I had to boil a kettle of water for shaving. Sorry that I bothered you now. I made a terrible job of shaving. Not realising until after I washed & brushed up. How I didn’t notice before, I don’t know. A check on my Bic razors revealed they needed dishing and new ones using, but I didn’t do either. They were clogged up. 
Then I had an incident with the toothbrush that, if filmed, would have been a prime recording worthy of being sent to You’ve Been Framed. I leaned to pick up the toothbrush, with the toothpaste in my other hand.

Bear in mind, this all happened in about 12 seconds. The brush shot out of my hand and hit the wall. bounced back shooting by me, rebounded off of the top tray, I managed to grab it, and dropped it straight away, and it fell into the WC.
While I was smiling at this, I realised that during the battle to control and retrieve the toothbrush, I’d squashed the toothpaste from the tube. You would not believe how much shot from the tube, spreading all over the wetroom mats, floor, sink, the WC, and down my overgenerous belly, left leg and foot, and on my testicles.
A bugger to clean up as well! Humph!

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I did my best to catch up on sleep. I actually drifted off. 

For about half an hour, the Carer crept in and woke me up. This time, I literally jumped awake. Setting off, Shaking Shoulder Shirley. Carer issued the drugs, Porpain gelled the shoulder and legs. And was soon off, he was running behind, he said. I tried putting the TV on, which usually works, when I can’t get to sleep. But it was of no use; back to just dowsing and involuntarily adopted a sort of, well, a Give-It-Upperdness, and got on with creating the second Inchie Ode At I5:00hrs. I got nearer to falling asleep than I had all day, doing this. They do not flow easily when one is struggling to concentrate & has not slept for 4 days.
I paused to ask Google for advice on this.
I wrote: An 80-year-old imitation male, under stress, cannot sleep despite being tired.
SLEEP & AGEING
Insomnia is a common sleep disorder, characterised by a persistent difficulty falling to or remaining asleep, despite the opportunity to do so. People with insomnia also experience excessive daytime sleepiness and other cognitive impairments while they are awake that directly stem from sleep loss. People may have sleep-onset insomnia, which causes difficulty falling asleep, or sleep maintenance insomnia, which causes difficulty staying asleep. Some people with insomnia experience sleep onset and sleep maintenance issues.
According to current estimates, 15-30% of 70-year-old and older adults live with insomnia. Older people are more susceptible. Attributed to a few different factors. Seniors are at higher risk of medical, psychiatric and neuropathological conditions. That can lead to insomnia symptoms, as well as other sleep disorders. Breathing or restless legs syndrome. Our internal circadian clocks and sleep-wake cycles can also change as we age, and these changes affect how long – and how well – we sleep.

Additionally, certain medications used to alleviate symptoms of geriatric medical conditions can, in fact, cause more sleep disturbances.
Glad I asked for advice on the problem.
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Self-faults that one has detected…
Situations that one has diffused,
One’s capabilities… now disintegrated,
Awareness of being disprivileged,
Dreams, hopes, now devastated,

The air we breathe, spiked, defiled…
Promises, compassion are disparaged,
As truth and decency are disavowed,

The poor demotivated & denigrated,
Violence, wars, Oligarchs delighted…
The balloon-of-hope is now deflated,
Death disregarded, water disconnected,
Innocents dehydrated, decapitated,
The world has never been so divided,

Commoners lives & deaths
 disacknowledged,
Lifetimes of pain for the disadvantaged,
Millions of colaterally-damaged, destituted,
Our new HMG has already disintegrated,
Sadly, these facts do not deprehend!
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 17th June 2026 – Teriible start ot the day!

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MUST BE THE WORST DAY EVER – UP TO NOW
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LOUSY NIGHT – CRUEL MORNING
Managed a few moments of sleep, kept waking up in a right peed off mood. Just needed sleep, but the demons and evilf-fieindly bad-luck-bringing thoughts of my own concoction seemed unbeatable today.
Rising from the bed and hobbling my way to the nocturnal Catheter pouch on the floor near the recliner, my right leg gave way, and once again, as yesterday, I was fortunate enough to lean towards the chair to land semi-softly and injury-free. 
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I was still sitting in it, and trying to nod off again, as the intercom chined out its “Oh, Susana” tune. The knee gave way as soon as I stood up, and by the time I’d got to the panel to admit the Carer, it had closed down. I waited a few minutes to see if they had been admitted or would ring back, then returned to the recliner, expecting the Carer to come in. “Oh, Susana”, rang out again. This time, I got to the box a bit quicker and in time to let them in.
Carer Mizra appeared, did a body check, and creamed or gelled the areas in need. Shoulder, back and genitals. Then Mizra got the medications issued.
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I was pleased with how the new computer was working. When first opened, both external drives were accessible! But, of course, within a few minutes, they had disappeared. Back to normal, then.
The hour-and-a-half Carer visit didn’t happen, the same as yesterday. 
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1) The computer, specifically CorelDraw, froze as I clicked export for the Cartoon to go to the file to use here.
2) I could not close down by the regular route. So had no choice but to turn off at the power sockets.
3) But I could not get the computer to reboot.
Nothing but trouble since paying £850 plus fitting to get this computer, and I could not find his telephone number!
But knew that Mizra had it, as he liaises for me.
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4) Carer Andrew made the short midday call. I asked him to ring Mizra and ask him to call the engineer. No reply, so I don’t know if he did.
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5) While he was here, I tried a couple of times to get the computer back on, but both attempts failed.
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6) I found the Carer lying in the hallway on his mobile.
I thought he’d gone. I asked him again to contact Mizra for me. No response.
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7) I did get the loading to go as far as the opening label screen, but this one usually comes up first… so it was not a surprise when the ‘Working Circle’ appeared and the mouse arrow showed on the screen. It stayed like this for over an hour! Demoralising!
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8) I turned everything off at the power again and lost the TV signal in doing so, and heard a series of Beeps coming from the hard drive.
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9) All off again. TV was not affected this time.
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10) This had to be my last try. I was so downhearted.

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11) Then, I got a telephone call from a something navigator, from the Doctors Surgery. She mentioned a meeting with advisers I’d been invited to via email. There was a vague memory, but nothing certain. The lady explained it was about sorting people’s needs out, and the best way to do so. I jumped at the chance. I think she said someone would be calling to arrange a meeting.
Linda, I think her name was. I mentioned my wish, if possible, to go into a home. In hopes of relieving the tensions from getting nothing sorted, with problems being added almost daily, which challenges my sanity,  health, and my ability to cope.
12) Today is a good example.
The early tumbles. The computer is playing up yet again. No hot water. 4 weeks since my last shower or shopping assistance. Adding to the Banking, British Gas, Virgin Media, the new Catheter’s lack of information or instructions. No help was given with managing procedurally.
13) Do I carry on with a weekly day-bag change? Is it safe to use with a nocturnal pouch fitted?
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14) Not that I could put photos on the blog, anyway, both camers are broken!
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14) Now, my prime love/hatred, the new computer, cannot access CorelDraw or Excel. So, there are no graphics or photographs that can be used. Other than any already in the WordPress gallery.
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15) I rang the District nurses for help on how to manage the new Catheter, who told me to contact the QMC. I went on a little about the situation I am in.
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I then rang Jenny, who rang back. But I was not really with it t the time, in fact, I had a nasty seizure after making the call, mind blank. Extra confusion.
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16) I received a call back from the nurses while still a little out-of-it. I was asked if I am really interested in going into a home. I think I took this opportunity to get my thoughts out, and they will ask Matron Jackie to see if she can get the ball rolling. Brilliant. Cause things are getting worse here now. Problems increasing, solutions decreasing.
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Movements from the rear end started again today, all in Constipation Conrad mode. A bit of blood each time from the haemorrhoids. At least no accidental evacuations with Conrad.
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I’ll have to do only the Ode. Oh, it’s been such a busy, annoying day; I’ve not done it yet.

I suspect this blog holds ampullosity?
Changing moods bring ambivalency,
Spent most of the day crestfallenly,
Spent many sessions self-critically,

Problems show
ing no curability,
Concentration, showing a deficiency,
Hopes, needs, logic, all seem to disagree,
Depression increases, diurnally…
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Is life, like a politician, an effigy?
Not realistic, no ecclesiology?
What happened to youth’s excitability?
80, first time owing for your electricity?
Into the mist, goes you equilibrity,
No more mental or physical euphony…
I used to hope for an epiphany…
But life now proves more euphuistically,
I also dreamt of finding eudaemony…
I got this depressing ennui!
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It was once suggested by Dr Neurology,
To help me electroencephalographically,
But that was in September, 2003,
Then a stroke, TBI, and Cancer hit me,
Dr Neurolgy again saw me in 2023,

Sometimes I can think with clarity…
I hasten to add, this happens rarely,
Then my mind goes wanderingly,
Mind blanks can hit anytime, lastingly…
or for a few moments, mysteriously,
Moments too, of great falability,
Frequent occasions of mental obliquity,
With unstoppable times of neurotomy,
Hoyrly changes to me nimiety,
Dementia turned me flibbertigibbety,
Duodenal ulcer, hernia, verbal nugacity,
But can I face the nitty-gritty?
The crux of the problematic matter?
Slowly but surely going détraquée!
I’m now an ace at dontopedalogy,
Few teeth left, crinkled skin, pilgarlicky…
Had enough of life’s woes & mallarky,
Being as I don’t want to sound sarky…
To avoid moaning and negativity,
I blame it on my pfropfschizophrenie!
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Lack of control, of happenings & events,
My ever-changing consciousness,
From unawareness to utter cluelessness.

People I talk to will see/hear a difference…
No in-between, Depression or High Horace,
Decisions to be made, I’m on the fence,
Knowing danger, what’s my response?
Forget; as it dies in my memory disperses,
Involuntarily, to my memory burners,
Lack of control, of happenings & events.
Make life a struggle, that’s so intense…
Worries, problems, Catheter, fears…
Self-hatred, incapable, many mental fratches,
Solutionless, can’t batten down any hatches,
I hate my changing moods & responses,
Often say things I find erroneous,
Mostly to myself, & of course Darius,
Important dates, numbers, emails…
Texts, etc., that no one can solve,
Fade away, making me feel injudicious,
I used to think that life was so precious,
Now it’s approaching worthless,
New computer, camera, faith, & hopes,
All kaput, I feel so inefficacious,
Really, my outlook is hopeless…
I hate my changing moods & responses.
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I’m Struggling!
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