– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Where do I leave my words of perspicuity?
I’ll try to explain to you clearly,
Mayhap inside a time capsule,
Where do we bury it? In a school,
Perhaps a police station or hospital?
All three will be run by the Oligarchy,
Used by backhanergivers & the aristocracy,
If Herr Starmer gets his way,
What goes in our time capsule?
The lies of Herr Starmer, the fool?
His standards? Self-motivated & dual…
Kiers lies, barriserial & political?
I, like millions, look forward to his burial!
 – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

What a day! The agony started as soon as I woke up. I was in fact enjoying the peace of being in a seizure, unaware of that, of course, it seems the only way to get any sleep and stay in it nowadays, but the recovering after effects were pretty harmful, as per usual. The door chime rang, stirring me cruelly back to reality. But my confusion and balance were all over the place. Getting out of bed took that long; the chime stopped. I continued the battle to get on my feet and carried the nocturnal bag with me to save time, to reach the panel when they called back, and to unlock the door.
In the rush and confusion, I got the catheter bag caught on the corner shelf as I exited the room… Knocking off and breaking a small ornament I kept in memory of my wonderful Aunty Kath. Amidst all the panic, Depression Darius joined me, with Frustration Frank and a rare visitor, Fearful Fred. I was aware that the confusion and panic were coming from the seizure recovery, but that didn’t help.
When I unlocked the door,  and, daft as it sounds, I had no idea what day or time it was, which panicked me further. I’d had no rest & recovery time, do you see? I’ve no idea what happened, just a few odd bits, of which I’m not certain anyway.
When Carer Nimra came in, I was back sitting on the bed with my head in my hands. (The head hadn’t fallen off, Hehe!) No recollection of much of what took place. Lots did, cause there was a full page of scribbled notes about it. Undecipherable, so I must have written them while still recovering after Carer Nimra had departed. The last bit I could read… I went into another seizure as Nimra left. I recall her telling me to sit down, I’m going now… There was nothing the gal could do anyway. Bless her. I got back on the bed. I think it was minutes later, I came back to reality, and all the after-effect symptoms had, as expected, returned. I was not going to risk getting up too quickly or soon after being forced to; that was not a pleasant experience.

I rose carefully about 15 minutes later. Grabbed Willie the Wooden Walking Stick. Off to the kitchen to steep a Detox bag in water. I visited the Porcelain Throne. Feeling more comfortable and with it as time passed. A 100% turnaround in the evacuation. Hard work, painful and bloody session. Yet a nice change from the last eight sloppy, wet, spattery Trotsky Terence cleaning up-after trips.

Later, I found this shot of the trees & bushes on the front of the flat’s walkway and carpark. I can’t recall when, or even if, I took it.

There were numerous issues with CorelDraw and the SD reader; in fact, it completely crashed. Boy, was I struggling with fitting the new one. Yes, I was!
I got the new SD reader out of its box. The SD cards now have to be inserted upright, which my Cramp-ridden, arthritic, and Peripheral neuropathy-affected fingers were reluctant to let me do. The more I use it, the easier it might get. It features several additional benefits, including a turn-on/off button for each socket. Which will be no use to me if I can’t find out how to replug it in the back of the computer.  
I was leaning forward to plug in the one… and PN’s dying neurotransmitters, shot the wire from my grip… They often perform similar actions, such as preventing me from gripping something or not allowing me to release something. I’ve broken countless mugs and plates. You may have noticed I no longer use plates, only paper ones or metal ones. This can be a problem when removing a hot dish from the microwave or oven, and I’m unable to release the hot dish or tray. You may have noticed the number of burns I collect. Haha! 
I was nearing the point of accepting that forgetting the socket for us and losing the plug wire would cause a terminal issue here. Carer Nimra arrived at just the right moment. At my point of despair…
She knew which socket to use and inserted it for me.
WALLAH! And I then had a new SD reader that worked
YeeHaa! No, double, even treble YeeHaa! 
Bless her cotton socks!
But, more good news! I  know, you are not used to getting good news from Inchie Today.
I put the mousse and keyboard senders in the last two plugs, and the SD reader in the next one. There are on/off buttons for each connection! I then grilled Nimra, asking what had taken place this morning, saying I couldn’t recall. She calmly told me I was all over the place verbally and physically. But don’t worry, you coped well with it all. I realised she’d not put the diabetic socks on, but had given me the morning’s prescription medications. So I spent the day sockless, Herhehe! Undoubtedly, this saved the day for me and was what spurred a short, but pleasantly acceptable visit from ! Then… No chance to start yesterday’s blog update yet. Because the frustratingly unreliable CorelDraw started playing up, and after sorting out the failure to save the page was due to a lack of memory, I pondered what I could do about it.

Going into a seizure, the length of reading War & Peace, compared to the usual 2 to 15 minutes, did me no good at all. I cannot judge how long it lasted, but it must have been a long one, because the after-effects and recovery time are always easier after a lengthy seizure. Also, the mug of Glengettie tea that I’d made was now stone cold! And, getting the brain to concentrate was a lot easier than after one or a series of .
I summoned as much intellectualisation as Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Mavis could muster, to try and find a solution to my problem with CorelDraw. Graphic artists worldwide have to do this regularly, I’m sure. So, having pondered, the best I could come up with was to use CCleaner and hope it creates enough space in the process. So, I did.
I had closed Excel and Word, then Google, and after saving the work, I ran CCleaner. It allowed me to keep CorelDraw open. (Sadists! Haha!) CCleaner claimed it had removed 2500 KB from the hard drive and 967 KB from the drive. This looks good, I thought.
Back to CorelDraw to try to save the work again. I opened Google, was going to go back to CorelDraw…

That went well… I waited, and waited for the windows to update. Not sure if I fell asleep or not. What day is it? What was I doing?
I had confidence once back on CorelDraw that CCleaner must have removed enough to save the artwork. I tried – it didn’t work. I screamed, wailed, spat & cried. My language was a bit crude.
I lost all the photographs when CorelDraw froze again! I did cry this time!

Then, yet another cock-up was made! I seem to be becoming an expert on these.
Amazon sent me an email stating that the £149 wheelchair, which had received adverse reports, had been cancelled. I promptly placed an order for one of the £184 models with handbrakes on the handles for the Carer or pusher, but with self-propelling wheels. I was thrilled that I might be able to get out and about on my own.
I realised that I had not checked the comments on this model, so I did. They were a replica of the comments on the £149 model???
But it had been a terrible day for me, and I was getting more and more tired and sleepy now, after suffering enough problems, Whoopsiedangleplops and frustrations to last me over the last few days for the rest of my life. Well, maybe. I’m still far behind with blogging than I’ve ever been. I frustratedly gave up on the computer and got my overdue Ablutions done.
The seat marks under my arm had worsened significantly overnight. I’ll ask the Carer to use the barrier cream and remind them to remove all traces of the old cream, then clean the area with baby wipes. This is only if I remember to ask whoever comes. As ‘Forgetters go!’, I think I deserve an award for my sheer dogged persistence, regularity, & stupidity.
I almost had myself over when I washed my feet in disinfectant in the bowl while shaving, getting only one cut! It did bleed a bit, mind you.
I foolishly decided to get a short-sleeved black kagoule hand-washed and rinsed, then hung it up in the wet room to dry on the shower curtain rail. As I turned to leave the room… I shoulder-charged the door edge. Which set off on one of her vicious attempts to dislodge the ball from the socket! Not that this actually surprised or upset me, it was just another cog, pain and annoyance on my way to total insanity. I’m not ready for considering suicide yet, cause I still have dreams of someone assassinating Starmer; I’d hate to miss that, and it would give a little lift, and laugh. I’ve paid for my funeral. I told the Carer where the details are. Not that I’m in any rush. Oh no, but if things carry on as they are… well!

I’m assuming that I had a seizure. I came back and was mopping the kitchen floor with the speed mop. The storage trolley was out of position, I’d moved food from a cupboard onto the floor near the radiator, and opened both windows. I’d been busy during my ictus? No one has explained to me how this can be so. Impossible to happen, surely?
Now this had happened before. If I recall rightly, it was the same as last time. The recovery and confusion were far less than having had an ‘ordinary’ seizure when all I apparently did was say, according to the Carers who were with me at the time: Sometimes with open eyes, others with them closed, but always with jerks, shaking and a mumbling of incoherent short words. Joeonce wrote down what I was babbling about in short outbursts; Urghum, Worramum, ehereherehu and No, no. With different expressions for each so-called word?
But how can I do things like moving things, and mop a floor? Mind you, I made a mess of that and had to clean it again this time.

And what happened to my feeling of being so drained?
Why should I do it at this time of night, let alone during a seizure? How? Why? Thankfully, these don’t occur very often… Ah! Perhaps there is a connection to my feeling of being so tired? Nae!

I keep getting myself off track tonight. But the need of food arose. I looked in the fridge to see what was available for dining on. The photo above reveals two outdated food items that I had to discard. The pastie on the right was use-by 19th Aug. Whatever it was inside that had gone mouldy and showing through the pastry and bag was mysterious enough. But then, why did I buy them in the first place? My tiredness returned.

I decided, after seeing what was not available to eat, to opt for frozen chip shop chips, tomatoes, and two defrosted cheesy-topped no-butter buttered bread rolls, along with some cheap £1-a-packet ham slices, which were well within their use-by date, 8th September. Worryingly, the highest ingredient listed was water.
However, they were a success (Not the meat, but the tomatoes, bread and chips were lovely).

There’s a chance of a miracle having taken place here. I cannot remember seeing the moon while I was in bed. Sometimes I see the hue coming through the tatty, thin curtains. I’ve been known to scramble out of bed to take a shot of it. I’m sure I didn’t tonight… well, as sure of anything I can ever be sure of. But that’s not saying much, is it? This snap was so beautiful, I’d have thought I’d remember taking it.
It’s Sunday evening as I write this. I’m now over two blogs behind. I think. I’m waffling on, and still have Sundays to start, and 30 templates to make up.
I’ll do a quickie for Sunday. Just the top graphics, CorelDraw permitting.
An Ode, hopefully.
And a photo or two…
I should get it done by Christmasish. Haha!.

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MISSING HORIS!

🤎 CHEERY-BYE FOLKS 🤎