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But the new spectacles are not up to scratch – Mind you, I have already scratched the lens on them. Cognitive Impairment Iris, the water geyser on the right leg has had to be bandaged… by me, what a mess I made of it. Little Inchie is giving nearly as much pain as Back-Pain-Brenda is! Plus, Concentration Konrad is along with all of these, making it hard work! Can’t hear very well either. Humph!
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Such a bad day for me. Worst in a long time. Confused, even more forgetful. Back-Pain-Brenda, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchie bleeding, as were indeed poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the teeth. Then as I was about to get my head down in the early hours of this morning (Saturday), one of the right lymphatic leg leakage gysers burst open! Anyway, I must at least try to keep to at least an imitation of the events’ chronological order. (Which it is already tp late to do, innit?) But the chances of that are best minimal – in fact, I can guarantee they and the grammar will leave you as confused as I am! Tons of things have been missed off this record. Due to my impressively effective habit of losing things – like the notepad I wrote all my notes on… the hearing aids, which I got out to show Kara two days ago, and have not got the foggiest where I put them! Oh, and the new reading glasses have absconded as well. I’m not sure whether to blame Dementia Doreen or Cognitive Impairment Iris. Maybe the constant pain I’m in is sending me a smidge more doolally than it normally does?
Great colour in the nocturnal catheter night bag.
Ten hours later, with little in the way of memory, and realising the notebook had done a runner. Liberty-Global Virgin Media had gone down at least…
Back-Pain-Brenda had forced me to take extra forbidden by the District Nurse, painkillers. Then, poor Little Inchie started bleeding as I bent down to retrieve biscuit barrel, and hit my head on the edge of the cabinet. The left Cataract eye, felt like it had glass in it, and assisted Confusion Conrad in making this a terrible day for me.
Off to the Porcelain Throne…
This procedure was repeated five or six times over the day. With the same result! Zilch!
The toes remain in a two-tone shade.
Sorted the evening bags out.
I do recall Carer Chis coming n the last call of the day.
He cheered me up a smidgeon. I took his photo as he was preparing to give me the Maxitrol Eye Drops. Note how he keeps the light bulb covered as he puts them in for me?
Feeling a little perked up now, I took his Bloof Pressure etc. and put it in the NHS thingamajig. After the lad had gone, I inputted it, with excellent results coming back. Insisted he takes a drinkie & nibbles in thanks for his kindness.
Got the Wednesday blog finished at long last, and posted it of just before midnight. Realising as I did, that the potatoes on the crockpot had been cooking now for about 18 hours!
I went to investigate the condition of them… Haha! They were fine! Just right, but they had been in a low-heat setting.
I put the cheese & onion pasty in the microwave and went to attempt a wet room evacuation on the ? Porcelain Throne…
No, nothing moved. I might have my stomach blow up if I don’t get a clearout before long.
Got the meal served up, and washed the pots & pans. Nothing exciting I know, but I enjoyed it all the same. So tired out now, still with pains and aches, especially so with Back-Pain-Brenda and Little Inchies sufferings. Flavour-Rating: 7.6/10!
As I was just putting the dish and cutlery in the bowl of water to wash them… 
slipped and I nearly went over, clouted my knuckles on the corner of the sink, and at the same time felt wet dripping on my right foot. My immediate thought was that the retaining clip on the catheter must have opened… Then it dawned on me, the 
was now on my left leg?
Oh, ‘ecky thump!.
One of the Lymphorrhea Leslie water geysers had burst open, and the fluid coming out was spreading from between my toes, all over the kitchenette floor. That’s why the stick slipped I think? No panic, though! Oh, no… just the most humungous pissed-off session of my life! Which turned into a self-pitying bout of depression at my rotten, ever-worsening state of health medically and mentally.
I was so looking forward to getting some sleep after being up for so long and suffering a horrendous day… well, much more than 24 hours. Now, I struggle to find the tapes, bandages and pads, which I have never applied on my own before. I found the equipment quickly, as the flow of Lymph fluid dwindled to just a slow seeping-out stage.
Let’s face it, there couldn’t be much left in my body to come out after the imitation Niagra Falls event! Hehehe! It felt like I was wading through water as I got into the other room with the assorted medical stuff.
Uncertain about how to go with applying the coverings, I pressed on and hoped for the best. (Hoped for the best? Me? Hehehe!) I seem to recall several worries at this stage. This is not unusual as Tom Jones sang. I’ve to clean the mess up in the kitchen yet. What if I can’t stop the flow?
I recognised now what the bits of white on the kitchen floor were; I think they were skin.
Dizzy Dennis & Back-Pain-Brenda visited me, due to my breaking my strict instructions for the Falls Lady Sarah. As KI had no choice but to bend down to reach the lesion. It felt okay, and I was sure the flow had stopped within minutes of putting on my Heath Robinson medications.
Then noticed a new bruise on my other leg. Due mayhap, to my banging it on the cabinet as I stopped myself tumbling?
The agony never stops for muggings here. By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen floor and mess, I found myself apologising to Back-Pain-Brenda… as if that was going to stop her hurting? Tsk!.
Inchy’s Ode to Getting Old
A picture I’d taken and forgot to put on earlier,
Today has been worthy of a two-finger gesture!
The hurt, confusion, and mental conjecture,
I miss nattering, a good blathering or clishmaclaver,
Old age brings ills, lurgies and conjecture…
Fears, and worries, one can’t disencumber.
I used to ruminate, contemplate, consider,
My brain’s now an expert at ecdemomania,
I was considered a flibbertigibbeter,
I often wonder over life, whysoever?
Philosophy is hard when one’s not clever,
Although, I used to be a willing forgiver…
Oh, forgive me, I’m starting to yatter…
Although, does this really matter?
I’m also known as a prognosticator,
An empath, clairvoyant, or prophesier,
Closer to the grave, I’m more of a toeier,
Now the brains getting slower, foggier…
Just to think, I was a half-decent squash player,
Ageing, deciding, opting? No, I’m now a procrastinator…
With physical and mental pains… it’s a bugger!
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A FEW OLD ODES
TTFN
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room
The carer arrived, got the medications sorted and had a little chinwag.
on the way back to the 
still in command.
Got some Apache potatoes in the crock-pot after removing the growth shoots, of which there were dozens of.
I
What was going right… well, nothing was real.
tube in poor little Inchies
!!! I think this may be due tri the lack of night pouches. The nurse did say it was important to put the night bag on as it gives the day bag a chance to flow, getting rid of the infection as it did so. That makes seance to me, but no bags have arrived yet. 
. Of course, agonising pains mean nothing to me whatsoever. 
Back again to the Wet room.
Fancy that one of the Enoxaparin needles was bent. 
Youngsters were spotted trying to make a snow slide for their multicoloured plastic, whatever they were called.
Got another reminder from Severn-Trent!
By gum, the snow’s cleared mighty fast?
Aha, it looks like we might see sundown shortly.
The sun was going down so fast…
In the first of these shots, just caught the last glimpse of the sun as it disappeared from view.
The sunset was all over, just some reflection from the disappeared sun. Not sure if reflection is the right word… can anyone help, please?
Apache potatoes (7.2/10)
Soya butter. (9.2/10). 
I took this wobbly, blurry shot of the pouch as I emptied it.
I know I was awake until my last wee-wee bucket visit, which was around 03:00hrs this morning, and getting back to sleep came easily, for Sweet Morpheus has been very stingy with me of late.
It didn’t last long, about three hours, for, at 06:00hrs, I shot awake, certain that noise had woken me up! I had to fight my unwillingness to rise from the recliner and have a search around for ant signs of intrusion, damage from something falling etc., but found nothing looking untoward?
I got the computer going, and the card reader worked the first time! I put in the close-up shots of the legs and the pathetic evening meal (Although I did enjoy it!). I got the blog for yesterday, finished it, posted it and off to the wet room; I poddled limpingly. 
The event went similarly to yesterday; Despite the innards telling me to let go and my input in trying to get things moving, it was painful, so much so that I gave up and waited for nature to sort things out. I had a go at the crossword while waiting patiently. I even got two more solutions in the grid. 
But… as I stood up to check on things for bleeding and giving myself a good wipe and clean up, as I turned to return the much-used toilet roll, Dizzy Dennis hit me. I naturally put my hand out towards the wall to stop any prospective tumble or fall for me – and if I remember rightly, the following found their way to the floor, some of them via the ankle ulcer and bloated toes. The olive oil bottle, after-shave, crossword book and pen, the Germoloid tube, the Germolene tube, and a half packet of Protection Pants! After finishing off my personal medications, I tackled the item retrieving and even got a fresh pair of PPs changed into. If anyone has any surplus supplies of Germoloid ointment or cream, I can willingly take it off of their hands, only I forgot to order some, and am now have just maybe, enough for two medicationalisationings of Harold’s Haemorrhoids, thank you).
All sorted, I went to get a cold drink from the fridge and noticed that it had been raining a bit.
positions they were already? 
Got the medical checks sorted out next. 
Carer Joseph arrived. The poor thing looked shattered. The first thing I did was ask him how he was this morning? Not too bad, was his reply. I quipped; well, not too bad is better than not very good, Joseph! That brought a rare smile to his face, and it cheered me up too. He got the meds sorted and wearily got up from the chair where we’d had a natter from, picked a vodka and lime as his choice of drinkie-treats, and off he poddled. With my thanks and instruction for him to get to bed, Hahaha! 
is the thing! I’ll have to make an order for next week to be delivered, Sainsbury’s methinks.
I got the final vegetables sorted and chopped up and into the pan of the cooking Chilli-Con-Carne. 
But I got carried away, so I had to get a move on… What a plonka! 
After a few minutes, I’d got the nosh for Josie on the tray. Took this photo of the repast. The usual bowl and a potfull of chilli for her to have tomorrow as well, some drinkies from the fridge, cheese, marshmallows and a few extras on the tray. Off to Josie’s door to deliver it, on time again, of course. 
It tasted truly crap; I was puzzled at how foul the NoFish fish tasted!
Over two hours later, I was rude;y awakened from my slumber as the night Carer arrived. She looked a little down and tired, so I had a chat and cheered her up a bit. She was well-impressed with her treat, a bottle of Tequila beer from the fridge. But didn’t take the waste bag with her to the chute for me. Humph! Hehehe!
Can’t imagine what I’d been doing in the sleep to cause this on my arm? I got the magnifying glass out for a closer, Sherlock Holmesian-style investigation into the mystery. But it was no good; the glass did not help me see any clearer. So, I ytied a few pairs pf the old 
spectacles; the black ones helped a little. I’d got a spotty rash coming up the arm, and a some beneath my man-breasts too? Mmm? Another of mysteries of Winwood Heights, the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions and other grotesqueries haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock to create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!
I had a peep out of the kitchenette window, it was not raining, and the roads had dried of the residue.
Independent Living, for the aged, managed about eight reports? Hehe! Then, around midnight, I took this somewhat pathetic photo of the evening view. Even I could see on the camera screen that it was not going to come out very well. It turned out that I’d moved the view mode selector in the wrong direction, and I’d put it on video instead of Auto? Writing this made me realise I’d written an ideal description for my life: ‘Gone in the wrong direction!’
I worked out that I’d been in the arms of Sweet Morpheus for about six hours! Fought off the Thought-Storms, with the aid of needing to use the Porcelain Throne.
I rose up onto my aching for some reason feet and found that Cartilage Cathy had departed from the right knee – which of course should have given me some glee, but, you see… Arthur Itis had returned with a vengeance in both knees! So, hobbling about is going to be a smidge painful today. Methinks. 
time. It eased more rapidly after I’d cleaned things up and applied the precious Germoloids ointment to the rear end. For some 
reason, I felt I could so easily get back in the recliner and back to sleep. And wanted to! Then I liberally applied the Phorpain Gel to both Arthur Itis’s knees and gave it a good rubbing in! Put a dab of Germolene on the arm where I walked into the doorframe yesterday. I didn’t mean to! Hehe! It’s surprising how a nothing bruise like that can hurt? Not that I’m complaining, after the Porcelain Session agony. Even I’ve got to laugh!
Got the computer on, and ♫ Of Susana ♫ rang out. It was the Carer Richard arriving. A good lad, who’s been down a little lately, but I can report that he was his old self again this morning! I don’t mind him coming later cause if I am the 
last call, we usually have a natter after the medications and Alarm wristlet battery checks. 
I pressed on with yesterday’s blog and got it posted off. 
The shower, shaving and Teggie-cleaning, apart from hitting my head on the power-box once again, went very well.
Getting dressed went okay, but the medicationalisationing had its moments of farce. I ended up with
I checked on the end car park… No, the photograph has not been doctored! It really is the red van’s man’s car, parked between the lines, and in the car park, as opposed to his usual blocking the entry/exit on the chevron lines. I wanted to congratulate him, but of course, being whoever he is, he’s parked in the Contractors Only Parking Space. Hahaha! But at least he’s found his way into the car park and not blocking things, so. Well done, mush!
Hello, the intercom is flashing? It was the Wilko delivery. ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ was chiming out from the doorbell when the driveress arrived. A helpful gal, who took the boxes into the kitchen and checked the number of items, blessed her cotton socks. I am a little concerned about the size of the box containing the Air-Cooker. I thought I’d ordered the smallest one? I’m going to struggle to get that on the minimal space available in the kitchenette? Oh, dearie me! It may have to be given away or sold to someone with more room? Still, Carer Richard is calling another da this week, and he has one. In fact, he encouraged me to get one. So, I’ll ask him to open the box to set it up when he calls, or if he hasn’t the time, I’ll ask him to put it in the other room for me, it’s blinking heavy, so it must be a big one… Tsk! I must get something right one day!