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I’ve bought a little present FOR Herr Starmer. Well, it saves him from committing suicide, and I’ll be a lot better off in prison, no bills coming in, no cost for food, medical help. Money for my story when I get out. I may become a People’s Hero? Oh, yes!
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I was anti-sex… well, until I was six,
An older neighbour then gave me some tips,
How to enjoy each other’s extra bits,
Boy, did I enjoy the aftereffects!
Even now, on the pleasure, I often reflect,
No one ever found out, as I learnt more aspects…
I think we both became addicts,
Couldn’t have got better if I used Holodecks,
In the kitchen, floor, or behind the cabinets,
A highlight was having it in hammocks,
That day with her two sisters,
I realised why her house had three beds,
A surprise when her cousin interjected,
Finally, my cherry was affected…
Sometimes, all four aided and abetted…
Tuesdays, Wednesdays & Fridays were red-lettered!
I met Grizelda before those days were bettered!
To my Auntie, one day I ambulated,
Who got me to stay with her, & I was bedded!
She was posh, but a little antiquated,
It was a long way from Home, West Bridgford,
I was fed, washed, & talcum-powdered,
I’d never been so well pleasured,
It was nearer to my school, maybe I was adopted…
A TV, a record player, nightly a Jazz fest,
Kisses, gropes, lusts, sex, beyond what I’d hoped!
She taught me how to respond and multitask,
She varied the routines, changed the molests,
Come to my bed, massaging me with her breasts,
Her handwork was undoubtedly the best,
I was nurtured, never neglected…
Got there after school, my pleasures negated…
But, scarily, she had disappeared!
I tried for weeks to see her, I persevered,
No adults would tell me why; it was prohibited!
All I yearned for, and desperately needed…
Was again, be pampered, partnered, & pleased!
Such times we never again proliferated,
Well, it was much later when Grizelda appeared!
Grizelda came along many years later,
Our date ended up as an all-nighter,
A big, strong-muscular gal, hairy, but her allure…
Just thinking of her got certain things astir,
6’3” of passion, thought I might need a ladder,
My glasses would hit a nipple when I faced her
Firm, pec-flexing breasts, sending me aflutter,
I’d get lifted and thrown on the bed, gently…
Muscular legs, as she started to straddle me,
She was my Angel, and said she loved me!
My eureka moment, phenomenally,
6 months bliss, she had to go back to Germany,
In 6 weeks, she’ll return to enjoy my company,
Painted the bedroom in her colour, Coffee,
Never saw her again, I didn’t find out until 2003,
She’d been run over and died the same day,
She was a member of the East German Volkspolizei,
That was the end of my romantic activity,
Cause I got the badder bother, you see.
Then the stroke and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Cataract, heart attack, problems hearing,
Got shot twice, working for Security,
It’s also the end of me ever being lucky!
Still, I don’t like to complain! Hehehe!
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Welcome to the blog of handicapped, nearly crippled, feeling sorry for hissen, Inchy. 
The Lymphorrhoea (a common complication of lymphedema, a condition where lymph fluid builds up in tissues due to a blockage or damage to the lymphatic system) fluid is filling down to the toes from just below the right knee cap. The left leg’s selection is just the skin getting rugged and wrinkled, but give it time; it may join with my right leg in a full explosion of leaking fluids and agony yet. Well, it’ll be company for her. 
I’ve suffered with this before, but never down to the feet and toes. Walking is not easy. Not just the pain, I feel as if I’m standing up, walking on a rowing boat in the rapids at times. Haha!
I’m amazed, but semi-proud of myself for only having two tumbles all week with it.

The seizures have had me over a few times this week (3). To be right, that’s wrong… I’m getting up too soon after the aftereffects when I return from the mind-wandering and or stagnating, far too soon, each time, that caused the problem. They have mostly been short ones, but they have been regular today. Sometimes they need a little extra time to sit down to recover sufficiently before I start hobbling around. Some of my cyber-friends have told me they experience the same problem. Each time, it was the intercom ringing, and I had to get up and go to the hallway so I could open the door for whoever it was, before the timer cut off the connection. Two callers have had to ring again, which I anticipated, so I got myself up from the tumble, and went to the hallway; better late than never, and waited for them to try again.

I spent more time getting out of the seizures than I spent in them. Believe me, regaining your faculties, such as they are, is becoming increasingly complex and taking longer. I cannot say for sure which Carer made which call.  
Although Anne Gyna did not give me a full-blown attack, it’s a worrying sign when she seems to tease me with a couple of stabbing pains in the right neck, amongst others, but only a handful at most each visit. I’ve noticed that when this happened in the past, the next day she’d be in full flow.
I’ll still cross my fingers, though.

The nurse is coming on Tuesday to look at the Lymphorrhoea for me. It’s looking no worse than yesterday, apart from the fact that the fluid queues are bigger, and now down to the toes. Tsk! With any luck, they might come on Monday now she’s taken Friday’s photo and sent it to Matron Jackie… but then again, she’s not in work until Monday… yes, I expect it will be a Tuesday call, at best.

So many blanks for today. This one on the left is interesting, though. The sunshine on it indicates I may have, or someone else did, take this snap in the kitchen. No memory of it? Ah, maybe it is an old one I picked out by mistake? Because I hang dressing gowns over the kitchen window when the sun is out, to reduce the chances of annoying Glaucoma Gladys if the sun hits my eyes, and I often temporarily lose my balance and vision. I lost a lot of things today, concentration, my mobile phone, the haemorrhoid ointment, and track of what I was doing as I did it!

If I live long enough to go to the urgent Neurological surgeon’s appointment. I just may get some help with the seizures… if indeed that’s what they are. No medics have used the word ‘seizures’ in any of the telephone calls and visits I’ve made. I call them seizures cause that’s what they feel like, but I’m not sure of the proper word to use. Still, no rush, the emergency appointment isn’t until… I’ll check on the Google calendar… aha, I’ve found it; Thursday 6th November, at 15:00hrs. Shame they could not have done it as Carer Joe asked them and made it for a Wednesday. Got to get there and back on my own now. I’ll ask Carer Joe to phone Easy-Link to find out when we can arrange a lift.

I fear that if things do not improve, it may mean a nursing home for me. Anything like the one I was in for my stroke recovery… scares the hell out of me.
Sorry, feeling a bit sorry for myself again. Tsk!

Not many memories are recallable for some of these pictures. At least I got some taken.

WeeWee nice & light.

Early morning view. 03:35:hrs.

Carer Manpreet, I think, took this snap of the ankle. Showing the build-ups of lymph fluid on my ankle and foot. Not a pretty sight, as the midwife put me in a pillow slip and handed me to the mother. Who promptly said to her, “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!” I didn’t know this until a few years later, when I met the midwife, who informed me of my entrance into lifehood. Naturally, I asked dear Mother about this. I had to wait a while, cause she’d just been arrested. When she was bailed and rang Dad for a lift, she got home. I told her and asked if what the midwife had told me was true. She casually replied, as she lit up a Park Drive cigarette: “Yeah, but I took to you, a bit later on.” How reassuring for a four-year-old. No wonder I went on to get Dementia. Tsk!

I got the potatoes delivered from J Sainsbury yesterday. Intending to boil them in the slow cooker for later on. These manky ones above had to be removed from the bag first, as they all had black spots on them. I consulted Google: Black spots on potatoes can be caused by several factors, including bruising, fungal diseases such as black dot or black scurf, or a condition known as blackheart. While some of these are cosmetic and safe to eat after peeling, others, like blackheart, can indicate rot and make the potato unsafe to eat. I saved half of them that looked edible. And I put them in the crockpot on a low setting.Put to marinate.
I shelled and added some peas.
Looking good!

Final Meal!

What a view!

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The foot, ankle, and leg throbbed a bit.
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😺 Keep Safe & Well! 🐶