Cartlege Carole

Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed. 


Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!
I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me! 
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchys Ode: Saturday 1st March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Ode Old– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Duncan paid fewer visits today,
But perhaps I shouldn’t say…
It’s not as if he went away,
What will happen on Saturday?
Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory,
If it comes, it’s always only briefly,
Though it always returns, worryingly,
But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly,
I got that from my thesaurus dictionary,
My life bears moments of uncertainty…
Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety,
No claims to rightness or piety,
Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy,
I often act subconsciously, mistakenly,
Or over-humbly, sycophantishly,
At times, I’m away with the sidhe,
If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns,
With my own brain, I can lock horns,
Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon,
Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection,
Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration?
He can bring on a cruel self-beration,
Sometimes, a sort of zombification,
A low, deeper than being woebegone,
While accepting my own antiquation…
With its struggle amany and vulneration,
Dementia Doreen is another vaurien,
Incogniscent Iris, seisures often…
DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see,
Alternates with DDDD visit frequently,
One extreme or the other, persistently,
Never equidistantly or contentedly,
I can struggle to find reality, facticity,
Thoughts, movements show contumacy…
My neurotransmitters are dying on me, 
Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly?
A chance of it being right? They go astray!
High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly,
DDDDD? Then things can get tricky…
Throw in the odd interrupting seizure…
What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater,
I often turn into self-loathing babbler,
When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter,
Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger,
Or has the temerity to get smaller,
Or new farces & snags I discover,
While I’m under Horis’s protective cover!
MĂ©nière’s, seizures… but I always recover,
In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter,
The nurse arrived to change my catheter,
Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay,
I wouldn’t go back in straightaway,
We had a bit of a shilly-shally…
We got it in, although it was bloody,
Then she checked the state of my rear alley,
She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation,
returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
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HOWZAT!
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A bad day.
Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.

Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs.
The pouch was taken off and emptied.
Waste bags sorted and ready.
Made up some pots to use for the laundry.

Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.

Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.

Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!

I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.

The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX

I took this snap as she departed.

Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.

By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky!
To the right.
To the left.
Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.

Carer Chris returned. Medications given.

I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Good Run Continuing! –
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– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
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Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
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Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
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Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
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People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
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Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
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Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
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FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
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I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some  shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.  
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

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May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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GC blondeTHE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
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A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
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04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about. 
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris. 
I’m losing the battle.


After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today. 

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado. 

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two? 
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages. 
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into the c1966, ÂŁ300 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. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

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EigĂ°u góðan dag – Have A Good Day
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Inchy: Tuesday 25th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Doing the right thing can leave you unrewarded,
Helping, sometimes, often, goes unrecorded,
But does it stop you from acting antideluvially?
To you, you’re just acting humanly,
Not wanting to be praised or highly regarded,
Without wishes to be refunded,
That would offend your gigmanity,
Like me, to defend your anonymity
Lest your generousness is noticed by Starmer,
He may sense he can get a backhander!
Especially if you’re a farmer or pensioner!
Your pension may get cut or rescinded,
You may get financially wounded,
By HMG’s mobsters and felonry…
Starmer so disgusts me!
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– – Deliberate spelling mistake – –
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A busy enough day without my forgetting that the water was being turned off for a few hours while the maintenance team was working on a repair or adjustment for a few hours.
Which meant more confusion for my addled-seizure-prone brain. Someone was here while I had a non-epileptic seizure again. Getting embarrassed at these incidents.
A flash blog today.
If possible, I must complete the much-belated ablutions, and time is getting late and short. First, I have to see if the water is back on.
Ah, well, I’ll do what I can from the notes and photos taken.
Tomorrow is going to be busy as well. Thursday could be the humdinger if the doctor decides I need to go in for help and assistance. What am I saying? Haha!
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You may ask why my urine is in the day bag jug?
Or, of course, you may not… I’ll tell yer. Last night, I fell asleep before putting the night bag on. The day bag was nearly bursting when I woke up at 03:30 hrs. It pulled as I stood up, not realising I had not put on the three times more oversized night bag, and… well… 
ARGH!
I naturally have a pain-resistance level far above others. Being the young, fit, athletic type of person that I am, I merely laughed off the entire incident.  I smiled as I wiped away the blood running out from down my leg and foot and sang a song to myself as I cleaned up the carpet.  

I visited the wet room and got settled on the Porcelain Throne.
A Fantastic Session!
For the first time in weeks, neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad controlled; the extremes did not rule the roost! Trotsky had an advantage, though, but not too much mess. And coming out to the kitchen, I was Anne Gyna pains-free!

I got Kodak Tim 2 and took a couple of photographs of the early morning view on offer. The top one is to the right, left one to the left. Maybe it was not my best effort, but that didn’t matter then. I decided to get the kettle on to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and then get on with updating yesterday’s blog; it was nice and early yet, so I assumed catching up and posting the blog should be easier than usual, and I could get on with this blog sooner than normal. Well, getting the update completed went pretty smoothly. It took a few hours. I posted it and decided to get the ablutions and medications done…
Then I remembered the situation of no water on tap.
I’ll have to do it this afternoon or night. There is no way I will boil water and carry it to the wet room to enable me to get a shave. The last time I had to do that, it resulted in some injuries and a right mess to clean up.
So, I wet some clothes in the sink from the kettle with Dettol and dabbed myself a bit with it. Hahaha!

I cleaned the kitchen window in cold water and warmed it with water from the kettle and spirit vinegar.

Carer Chloe arrived for the first call. Medicines were issued, and diabetic socks were put on. While doing this, I realised the catheter day bag was getting filled, so I emptied it into the jug. While talking to Chloe, as she stood up to check the taps, she pointed out that the day bag was leaking! And I thought things were getting better! What a fool!
I had not shut the release valve. Now, I had to clean the freshly put-on socks and the carpet again, which cost me a lot of time.

The landline chirruped. The DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse advised me she would come in the morning between 10 and 1100 hrs to take the blood. I’m not sure I’ll have much available after Little Inchy’s tube-tugging session earlier. Hehe! I put it on the Google Calendar to be safe.

Carer Chloe arrived to do the domestics, which she couldn’t do without water. She helped check some Emails for me and did the hoovering.

I was not in good condition as it was, but the seizure kicked off again, and my concentration was terrible.

The Iceland Delivery Arrived
There seemed to be a lot of bags. Then I realised I’d bought many Cheeze-It wafers, like… Nine Bags! Guilt!
They do taste delicious, though!
Does the fridge still have room in it?
I topped up the Carers & Nurses treat boxes.
I love the mini Toffee Crisp bars. Just enough for me.

Carer Sam came. We had a little natter.

I, at last, made a start on this blog.
Then I realised I’d still have the templates for March to do!
So be it. Last month, I completed them in less than three hours. I’ll aim to complete them within the same time. Here I go, with a start time of 17:00 hrs.

I’ve Done Them!
By 1855hrs! Honestly!

Varer Chris arrived while I was on the templates.
Medications given.

Now, my plan is to get something to eat!
Nordic Bacon (lots of it), roasted onions, cheese cracker biscuits and cheezies, cheese-topped rolls with Marmite.
I ate about half of it. Just made too much of it. Tsk!

Carer Chris called, returning the laundry bag. We had a little laugh & natter as he took the socks off for me.

Washed the pots and got down in the c1966, ÂŁ300 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. To watch some TV documentaries. Zzzz!

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Catch you later, Pip-Pip
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Inchy: Monday 24th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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:::::
My pons may have become unattuned,
Pon a part of my brain abovementioned,
This has not medically been ascertained…
Just by my going lamebrained!
And visually, mentally purblind!
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Deep Dank Depression Duncan darkened,
Anne Gyna’s pains then reawakened,
I didn’t feel hard done by or condemned,
When the seizures emboldened,
My confusion exploded.
:::::
Then I seriously contemplated…
My thoughts were multi-dimensioned,
I was soon feeling mentally drained,
As my limited capacity broadened,
My search for truth was disillusioned,
The more I gleaned and learned…
My faith & hopes were expunged.
:::::
Was humankind Frankensteined?
As I saw a misty logic, I frowned,
Humankind’s faiths have not intertwined,
Humankind, revenge, greed, hate-ladened,
Always for wars, we’ve munitioned,
Compassion is no longer gleaned,
Commonsense is being overburdened!
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Words and gestures are too often miskened,
For peace, this world is not provisioned,
Genuine, kind gestures are unreturned,
Murdering, wars, unrestrained,
They were when killers were guillotined,
Now, after five years, they are freed,
And politicians are full of self-greed!
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Toward forgiveness Some are inclined,
For all who have misdemeaned,
The law is an ass that’s got beclouded,
HMG with oligarchs elected,
Muggers and rioters cautioned,
The future I cannot comprehend,
Not with Herr Starmer in command!
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– – CRACKING START TODAY! – –
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Today, Tuesday (Domestic), Wednesday (Financial, email, letters), and Thursday (Doctor’s appointment) are all going to be very busy. I’ll need patience, and they are going to be very time-consuming. Concentrating is necessary to avoid mistakes and prepare for the visits.
So, the blog will not have much detail. Unless, of course, I win the lottery big time! Then, I can afford to go private medically and pay for extra help. Oh, bother, I forgot I don’t do the lottery! Hehehe!

Sorry for the lack of the usual rubbish.
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Sprinkling of rain.

Another sprinkling of rain.

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

Evening.

Medications looking relatively low. Some part boxes on the Carer’s table. I counted how many of each of the tablets, medicines and creams there were. The arithmaphobia made it hard work, but I think I got it right. 
Then, I called the chemist to assess the situation with the delivery. She said it would arrive on Thursday or Friday, but they didn’t. No doubt I got something wrong. I had! pillock The patient lady said or meant to say that the prescriptions would arrive at the chemist then. The delivery is monthly on a Wednesday. I’m still not sure which Wednesday, though. I was going to ask, but I was concentrating on what she was saying and didn’t want to interrupt her and get it wrong again. I asked her if it was this Wednesday, and she said yes.

So, I assume the delivery to the flat will be the last Wednesday of the month.

A lot is done in one sitting on the

Franks & Chips (bread coming in the morning)

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Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

Famous for my ability to talk bilgewater,
A bumbling-babbling, foolish blooter,
Searching for acquaintances that are boshter,
But always something of a boondoggler,
Then came a new ailment, bradykinesia!

I had a mini-todger, questionable cisgender,
I’ve still got it attached to a catheter…
Bald, so no worries over my coiffure,
Accepted as a bypasser or circumventor.
Never a winner, a 3rd place I’d chanticleer!

I’ve become an expert, frequent dégringoler,
Never was a fraud, cheat or deceiver,
Now, I suffer from dementia & dysphoria,
Unlike Starmer, I’m no denunciator,
The wrong word to describe me? Debbonaire!

Coffin-waiting, yet things can still enrapture,
A natter, laugh with a friendly talker…
CBD, magic mushrooms with elderflower,
Of course, I no longer use the chest expander,
Finances dwindling, so I must curb my expenditure!

I’ve led my life candidly, honestly, foursquare,
Getting annoyed at things that are not fair,
Like Starmer, PM, who lied to win, fibber!
Who loves a backhander, the freeloader,
Guaranteed to cheat, lie & work a flanker!

I’ve never been a dynamo, hero or go-getter,
I got cataracts then and still have glaucoma,
My failing brain & body is getting me grumpier,
I’ve avoided being a grammaticaster…
Now I’ve become a graphomania!

I’m an expert on my haemodynamometer,
But the stomach & body is getting heavier,
Mentally, I anticipate getting habromania,
There’s not much in my brain for it to hinder…
Only Dementia, my brain’s house-sitter!

We’ve Starmer, every day getting iffier,
Putin, who’s several countries inferior,
Hamas, Israel, peace inviting…
Amhara, Yemen, with Houthi insurgency,
Ethiopia, Myanma, Paraguay… insanity!

No wonder the world is getting jitterier,
Proletariats just want it to be joyfuller,
Leaders going for the citizens’ jugular,
Janitor, junior, juror, or justificator?
We have Starmer, the lying junketeer!

I find myself becoming more klutzier,
And unfortunately, more knaggier,
And maybe a snip more kludgier,
My ageing body, positively knurlier,
If only Starmer would act kindlier!

Can Starmer’s reign get any lousier?,
Can I get any more loonier?
I things go right, will I live any longer?
Do I want to? Can I get livelier?
Can I rid myself of this lacklustre?

Will Keir get even more of a miser?
£160,976 a year for Nottingham’s Mayor,
She is Councillor Carole McCulloch,
Why does the East Midlands have a Mayor?
Clare Ward, ÂŁ93,000 a year, did I mishear?
A deputy Mayor on ÂŁ46,500, Holy Mother!,

The end of the World is drawing near…
Maybe not caused by anything nuclear,
Possibly by a Green Peace neglecter,
Oligarchs, wars, or my Auntie Nora?
God, Allah or Jesus from Nigeria?

The end of the World is now less obscure!
Humankind will be the orchestrator,
A World leader on an overnighter…
To prove they are richer, the best occulter?
The most efficient proletariat ostraciser?

I now get more confused with my photocopier,
Camera, computer, & getting to Jupiter,
Anything mechanical, & phantasmagoria,
Also, of course, my own psychasthenia,
Not to mention my bladder parasitemia!

My right testicle went all quadrangular,
Had I a disease, a bug, a queller?
This concerned my partner & querida,
She said I’ve seen things queerer!
She’s such a quick quipster!

Life may yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!
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I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap. 

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,
One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,
I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,
I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say… 
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
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I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

These time-consuming procedures were carried out without Accifauxpas—just one cut shaving and an unintentional shoulder charge on the doorframe on leaving. Which set off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, who soon calmed down afterwards. The medicationalisationings went very well indeed. (No, I’m not joking) For some reason, creaming underneath the catheter strap bleeding did not hurt one iota! The new type of barrier cream is more effective than the old one. Or, due to me being in a mood because I had just drifted away into the ether and left me feeling free?

A decent, more normal-coloured morning shot from the kitchenette window when I was making the first of what turned out to be far too many mugs of Glengettie, Co-op 99, and Thompson’s Punjana tea? 

I sorted out the waste bags and put them near the door.

I dropped the , as a series of Shaking Paroxysmal Dyskinesias seizures visited. Each lasted for about a minute, with about two minutes before the following one came along. I had five, I think. But there was no tumbling or falling with them. All of the seizures can’t be controlled and are like Starmer; they come, do anything they want, and kill people (pensioners & farmers in Starmer’s case) at will… but of course, the seizures don’t lie or take backhanders, unlike our hated, loathed, despise, lying by omission, figure & fact destroying, Tory-like Labour PM, FĂĽrhrer Keir Isod the voters) Starmer. Who would be defenceless over his lies and manipulating facts in any court of law? But, of course, this is the HMG we are talking about.

Only today: Again, Starmer is laughing a loud lie.The Prime Minister has told Louisa James that pensioners will be better off in the long term under Labour because of the tough decisions HMG makes to stabilise the economy.
Hahaha!
But I respect his skill and determination to be and use a great misleader, with his slithery sidestepping, hocus-pocus, and mumbo-jumbo in the Houses of Parliament.
May He Rot In Hell! (Soon!)

At this point , increased in frequency and variety. Two mammoth ones included.
No memory notes left to use on the writing pad.
Around 05:00 hrs, the seizures got less frequent and were almost copeable with, as Carer Christopher arrived.
I had to stop writing the big ode and blogging. Glaucoma Gladys was fuzzing my eyesight, as she does after I’ve been daft enough to use the computer for so many hours.
I blame my love of odeing, which didn’t come out. It needs amending and catching up on in the morning. Indeed, this will require a lot of work and a smaller (above) ode writing, as initially, it was going to be the Alphabet Ode today, so I’ll do one in the morning. That reads confusingly to me? Sorry.

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

What a magnificent pose!
Glad to report that Andy’s servant, Doug, says that the lad is now back eating his greenies again!
Just look at the expressionable face Andy is putting on. Showing to me Contentment & expectations. ♥

Carer Joanne called, bless her heart, to return my laundry.

As Carer Christopher came, and I was feeling better after the seizure flood, I started feeling hungry. I took this sunset photo as I checked what I had to choose from for my daily meal. I bet Herr Starmer has more than one meal a day. Chris took my diabetic socks off, medications were issued, and we had a mini-waffle session.

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

Corned beef & potato hash.
A pot of instant mash, with a pinch of salt and black pepper, and a fork of Marmite added and mixed in, along with some garden peas.
With a pot of Ykos lemon yoghourt to have for afters. Nice! It went down well.

Now, I had to stay; I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. Huh! Zzzz!

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Doctor this coming Thursday.
Need help with DDDD.
The seizures are coming more severely.
Hope the Doctor can help me.
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TTFNski!

Inchy Friday 21st February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I’m not so acrobatic, more aquabatic…
When the catheter plug refuses to stick,
Tablets, creams and antiseptic,
A tendency towards being apathetic,
Learned today I’m agammaglobulinemic,
Realised that I’m obsolete, old, and antique,
Hopes & abilities, are not within my ambit,
I’d be better off out of it, abiotic…
More problems today got me apoplectic,
Life is a struggle, with little aleatoric,
Seizure troubles, Depressions… amphigoric!
I’m just stating life’s assertoric,
Everyday calamities, all amphigoric,
Not long ago, I was carefree, apolaustic,
Contentment? I long ago lost it…
World leaders turn greedy & autarchic,
Leaders used to be so moralistic…
Humankind’s future is but apocalyptic…
Catastrophic, cataclysmic, adiaphoristic!
Starmer ruins the UK, not apologetic,
To honesty & compassion, he must be allergic,
To self-wealth, Keir is apolaustic,
I’d like to buy him a soda, caustic!
He seems so stoic, sardonic, & satanic,
The fact that he’s scholastic,  semantic,
He doesn’t seem to understand sympathetic,
Backhanders taken, the crooked schmuck!,
Labour’s values he does besmirch,
His speeches are hypnotic, soporific,
He is beyond being fair or sociologic,
When he talks, it’s rhetoric
With lies, deceit, all plethoric,
Is it possible for words to be pathogenic?
Cause his lies make me sick, phrenic!
His unwarranted greed is so apodictic,
His behaviour is psychosomatic,
His biggest lies used by pretermit,
His known lies have been so plethoric,
Sorry about this rant; was it poetic?
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It’s been a nightmare today. It is now 17:40 hrs, and I’ve got the above done. It’ll be well into the morning before I get this done—if then! I’m going to have to rush, so mistakes and timings may well confuse you and me! Sorry. I’ll just accept Grammarly’s suggestion, even if it seems wrong. I’ve a lot to get through cause I had some mega-muck-ups. Not early on, things went decently, but as you can work out from my errors, the pain caused Anne Gyna to tear into me when I was uptight about the happenings. I’ll try not to go into too much minutiae and still get the message across.

I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning.
I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had things bleeding later on.
To the kitchen, took a snap.
Smidge brown sky? Tons of scribble I can’t read on the notepad here. Late on in the day, the Glaucoma seems to get much worse each night.
I’ll pick out the bits I can read.

Carer Joanne’s first call. Had a small but plwant nattwe and moan about things. We do that!
Ah, I did get the Thursday blog finished. A call was made on the intercom, and I assumed the supply of catheter bags was arriving. But no one arrived at the door. Now, a problem. Someone might be on the way up if I get dressed and go down to see if they had left it in the foyer. Left it a while longer. By now, the thought of them getting nicked got me all uptight, and Anne Gyna started; on the way to the lift and down to the ground floor, I had several mini seizures. As I exited the lift, Carer Joanne was getting in with my laundry, bless her.  
We found a box that had been left in the lobby. It was from Parsley Box, the ready meals. Joanne carried it with me back to the flat. When I got in, an email said it had been delivered to the customer. This wrangled me. Joanne kindly hung the things up for me, and I emailed DHL and Parsley Box. Here’s a copy. Both were the same. 

After I admitted the DHL driver to the flats, the parcel was left in the ground floor lobby. 
After getting dressed, I went down to look in the lobby. Then, suffering from Anne Gyna and a seizure, I was lucky enough to bump into a Carer as I got out of the lift.
Carer Joanne tended to me and carried the box to the flat. 
She will complain to Parsely Box and explain that I dare not order anything again for fear of the same thing happening again. It involved just too much hassle and physical pain. I live in this Warden-Aided Block of Flats (Flat 72, 12th floor), where the box is usually dropped off at my door.
I am disabled and not in good health, which is why I was ordering Parsley box meals.
I’m not seeking compensation; I’m just disappointed and need to look for a different supplier.

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I had a bit of a mess with the lift in the first place.
But can’t read enough to say more.
I got an email from the Post Office about delivery coming tomorrow, but not the catheters. Also, the prescriptions have not arrived, although they may have been dropped at the Carers office. I’ll phone the chemist in the morning.

It’s no good I can’t read things here. I’ll get the photos taken; they may trigger my non-existent memory.
Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done.
Emptied the Parsley Box meals.
Stake Hotpot.
Corned Beef Hash.
My favourite one here!

Tomatoes, they all had something in common…
The tomatoes, I mean.Miniature bottles of shandy.

After Anne Gyna calmed down, the Mini Seizures
started, and she could do nothing for ages, and didn’t.

Carer Chris made the teatime call at around 17:15hrs, and the medications were given.

I will go on the WP Reader and then clean the place up a smidgen. Get some nosh now. I thought I’d got bread in the freezer, but I haven’t. So, I’ll have loads of Nordic bacon instead to fill me up.
The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.

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Fare Thee Well!
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