Inchie: Sat 30 Aug: Yet another lousy day! Confusion Konrad, Depression Darius, Sandra Seizures, but little High-Mood-Horis!

31/08/2025 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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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!
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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 🤎

Inchie Today: Monday 11th August 2025

12/08/2025 / Inchie / 21 Comments

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Dad knocked one out for me, for talking sarcastically,
Soups made from bones, tongue & hooves, are prone…
Sugar was cheap, a few more teeth, gone,
I got beaten up, lost more than one,
Dad sent me to the gym to learn to box skillfully,
Had a bout versus a muscle man, I was scrawny,
Lost all but one, won that on a technicality,
He had a heart attack, which was a bummer!
Dad got me playing cricket, being as it was summer,
Fast bowler, ball in gob, even bloody awfuller…
I got blood all over my coiffure,
A mugger, I said sod-off, he gave me a smack…
Lost a tooth from the front, one from the back,
Wonder how he did that, suppose it’s just a knack,
Hospital, trolley fell off of it, Oy, caramba!
Became an alcoholic, just beer, no gin or lager,
Pissed, miss bus, walk home, fall, lose a tooth, regular,
depression, sadness, melancholy, have a mope,
False teeth? I don’t have any hope…
Now Starmer is the UK’s new pope!
A greedy, dishonest, lying bloke,
I can’t afford to have my teeth out,
My bank balance is close to nothing,
Keir stole my money, I’ve not got gout,
Do I get no freebies? No, I do without,
I’m getting older, more scatterbrained, dottier,
But have toothache! It’s getting rottener,
But, with far fewer teeth to come a cropper,
11 medications, including Warfarin & Beta-Blocker,
I’d like to set myself up as Starmer Knocker?
A derogator of dishonest Herr Starmer,
I should really try to keep myself calmer,
If Keir would kindly die painfully, & slower,
Now that really would be good Karma!
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02:00hrs: I bounded out of bed, did a double-flip, and yodelled as I opened the window and greeted the world with a smile…
That is not exactly authentic.
05:40hrs, I woke and fell asleep again, the moment I felt the pain from lurking in both knees. Wondering why, after all the harassment over the last two days, should the one ailment that has been absent all last week, suddenly start on the rampage? Within, I imagine two minutes of nodding back into dreamland, twitched; so violently, just the once. But it was enough to make me force my way out of bed, take off the nocturnal catheter pouch, and go in search of Codeine to ease the pain. This has never happened before; not the neck twitching, but the pain being so sharp. I’m assuming that it may have been caused by not getting medication for the days while in the hospital. What do you think? I left the card nearby with the bag, so the Carer can assess the colour for me.

Then I did the safety checks, although doing them last night when I got back from the hospital and finding I’d left the oven on was not encouraging.
I glanced out of the window and thought I saw the moon still showing in the photograph that Mirza took for me. Near the centre, about a third of the way down

I then thought I’d better get the ablutions and medications done before the Carer arrives.

The first task was to utilise the Porcelain Throne. But, for the third day on the trot, no evacuation was passed! A fair bit of noisy wind escaped, but not a sausage. Nothing, ziltch, nada or a blank. The shave was bloodless. Great!

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and got on the computer to update the Sat/Sunday blog. Which I achieved – but with Grammarly telling me that I had errors, wait for it… 333 errors! It took me an hour just to check them out & correct.

Carer Nimra arrived, walked straight in without using the door-chime, and found me with just the underpants on. Well, it was a warm day. Haha!
She’d been told nothing about me being hospitalised. I gave her an outline of the incidents that led to the fall and the following 21 hours of waterless, foodless time in the hospital. Late on Sunday, a new team started their shift, and I mentioned to one of the incoming nurses that there was no food or water available, as I was doing my every 15-minute mini ECG checks. She came back with a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich and a coffee for me. I thanked her for her efforts. But unfortunately, there were two rare things that I cannot eat. I didn’t mention it; not after she’d made the effort to help me. Carer Nimra barrier creamed my back flaps; I couldn’t reach them earlier. Then, she put some on the left Cartilage of Chloe, who was giving me some bother. We went onto the balcony, she wanted to take a photo, I think. Graded the urine bag as a level 5. Nice gal.

I then had a bit of a nerve-wrenching bother with CorelDraw and the computer, though.
I’d put an SD card in, which I found earlier, to see if CoralDraw would let me clear it, and try it in the camera to see if it would work.
, No! When I tried to delete the photographs (they were from 2009), the whole shebang froze!
Almost instantly, semi-panic was birthed, and DAWNED!
I sank so low. How can I handle so many disasters in such a short space of time? I wanted to curse, spit and scream! As I tried to think of a way to close the other programs, I couldn’t. The computer or CorelDraw, or both, were not allowing me to do anything at all. As I was thinking, if I leave it for an hour, just maybe it will reactivate? Yes, that’s how stupid I am! Which brought on the pathetic self-pity as well…

The door chime rang out, and in walked the lovely retired nurse 💗 who had been tending to my Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies’ fungal lesion. She inquired why the plaster was on my head, and even the depression could not stop me from telling the tale of Saturday & Sunday. She listened too. 🌹Bless her cotton socks 🌹. She then swapped the plaster with a new one. Checked out the piles and bum; they were much easier. Off she went with my appreciation shown, and of course, returned as I turned on the computer, and the same frozen CorelDraw showed up. So much for turning it off at the plug, the only thing I could think of. Then the doubts sprouted up again; Did I think of turning it of at the plug, or did I actually do that?
Doubting Thomas’s arrival, followed by the certainty that Calamity Jane was on the way, and back into mode.
I believe that while talking and listening with my sweet District Nurse, 🌹 I think that I flirted with for a few minutes, knowing that my precious nurse was with me. Have I fallen in love at my age, and in my current physical & mental state?
Her arrival actually froze out Darius for a while! Nothing has ever achieved that before! Death will, but then again, you never know, Darius may follow you into Heaven or Hell? I’m writing down my thoughts again. Waffling on? Lost the plot!Tsk!

I regained a modicum of concentration and mused over what to try next with the computer problem.
The intercom chimed out. It was Carer Nimra. As she was coming up, I had a bit of a seizure, only a short one, but they usually have after-effects that are worse than after a long one. Blown if I can recall what took place. I feel things went well, though. Think we parted happily.

Now, back to the computer problem. I made sure this time, and had to disconnect from the plug, taking out the plug for a minute, then replacing it in the socket. I had little faith, but I continued. I didn’t turn on the computer, but instead, I turned it off again at the socket, and then booted the tormenting computer—with a flinch and a prayer. It went through a scary list of options to boot it up. To be honest, (Sorry to scare Herr Starmer by using that word, honest), I thought it wasn’t going to work, and I pressed the option buttons without making a note of them – What a Fool! It booted up! But I can’t remember the sequence for next time when I start it!
I got so angry with myself!

I pressed on and opened CorelDraw, Humph!
Some fonts didn’t load, so I had to select substitutes, which may cause problems in earlier postings.
The file you require is unavailable. Select another or save and rename this one to a different folder and name. I was baffled now. So I pressed the save-as tab and renamed the file. Well, it loaded, but very slowly. I expected a lot of work to be missing, as I couldn’t save it when the computer froze. Turned off CorelDraw and reopened it after a few minutes. The newly named file opened, and I investigated what was missing. As it happens, only a few photos and graphics were not there! I think I must have saved it just before the freeze. If so, I’m happy I did!
But the fear of booting up again lingered.

I got the Sat & Sun blog posted, and then I realised I hadn’t posted Fridays either. I was going to do that on Saturday, but then tumble interfered. So I checked that blog and posted it off too. I felt I was getting somewhere at last.

Carer Ejaz did the last call. No one had told him about the Hospital mayhem. He didn’t have time to listen anyway; it was a short visit, and he had another one to attend to. I’d not made a meal yet, so he left the night pouch on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, dirtier than ever catheter-tube-trapping recliner, for me to put on later after cooking. Which is okay, the new day bags are shorter and much smaller, so the risk of going giddy at bending down is minimal. The lad asked me to send the blogs to his mobile, which I did. He just had time to take two photos for me. One of the fantastic sun-going-down view, so fiery and colourful, from the kitchen window. Then he snapped my much-improved Lymphorrea Leslie legs. Don’t they look so much better now my new love 🌹 has been looking after them?

Well, I’m shattered now. I’m going to save & close everything, shut down the computer, and see if I can remember the sequence to boot it up again. If not, suicide is the best option. I can’t stand losing the computer forever, with all the disasters of the past week. Here goes, fingers crossed and curses and a hex on liar, back-hander taker, two-faced, unreliable, pensioner-disabler-family robbing, more Tory than Labour inspired, ☢ Herr Starmer. ☢

I may not be back…
Of course, you won’t know if I’m dead or the computer won’t boot, will you? Because I won’t be able to post this desperate plea for help, formerly identified as a blog. Crossed fingers then.
Heheheh!

What a Relief!
Got in, but with a degree of “It’ll only happen againness” – “How the hell did I do thatness” and
sank into the most prolonged Seizure of the day. I was just coming out of it when Carer Ejaz arrived to do the last call. So, my memory is a little vague again.
Ejaz, I think, took a photo of the meal. I guess it was Ejaz, anyway? Took the diabetic socks off. Left the catheter night pouch on the recliner, so I could remember to put it on after making the meal.

Got the meal of the day prepared.
Dry bread, tomato sarnies.
Red onions and some
superb chips!

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I should sleep tonight!
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Inchy Mon 9 June 25: Whoopsiedangleplops Unabated!

10/06/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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An ever awakening, lousy night’s kip,
Today, I all but lost the script…
Started okay but ended up like a damp squid,
I wouldn’t have today again for a 1,000,000 quid!
I really was error-ridden and sad…
I tried to contact Mum & Dad; it was that bad,
These things listed, I suffered and had…
I’ve now got a bruised, bleeding toenail,
A computer that drove me up the wall,
CorelDraw’s not useable at all!
The photo reader? Photos unacquirable!
Not working, no access, most frustratable!
Dropped the saucepan and a bottle…
What a mess and kerfuffle!
Again, I had a dizzy and took a tumble,
Hot water left to run cold, so unavailable,
These events are not chronological,
The last few days have been terrible,
Today, I upgraded to abominable,
Told my Carer my woes, sounding comical,
My brain was cynical, then went cryptical,
Self-hatred, guilt, thoughts pathetical,
Accepting again, no longer controversial,
Then in crept a new idea… it was crematorial,
Life seems circumscribable yet choplogical…
The wave of bad luck that’s unstoppable?
Here’s the early photos that were importable,
Urine assessment, colourful…
The kitchen view is not so colourful,
Calendar clock, just before my first tumble,
So glad I got the Copse shot; it is beyond beautiful,
Made room for the next delivery, but minimal,
Ordered some medicine, bronchial,
I worried not of anything cosmeceutical,
But, struggled with anything practical,
Had a few wicked thoughts that were biblical,
My dreams were either cryptical or cynical…
Will Starmer ever be assassinationable?
Nothing’s straightforward but curvilineal,
It’s been too long since I had a cuddle,
Failures; is it me that is culpable?
As for when I last got romantic & coital…
Which is now physically impossible…
I might be coming across as cacodaemoniacal?
As I await things becoming cataclysmical,
I dreamt of things perfect, paradisaical,
Then the dream sort of went physical…
I fell out of bed; it could have been lethal,
The catheter bag burst, forming a puddle!
Cleaning things up, I got in a muddle,
Will a day ever again be wonderful?
With heavenly moments of being peaceful?
Or stay mausoleal & ever depressible?
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Today was another struggle,
Not everything was detrimental,
High-Mood-Horis (HMH), my virtual alchemist…
Sadly, missed me off of his visiting list,
Dark Deep Dank Depressing Duncan didn’t!
His visit & my plans had no denouement,
If I had any, I may have taken a deliriant,
HMH brings a temporary disentanglement,
This turns me into a temporary recusant.
A couldn’t-care-lesser dissident,
But HMH’s visits are unreliable & transient,
Concerns, fears and worries are agitated,
The easy-going moments are replaced,
Check stocks of medications & liniment,
Taos & catheter need to be checked,
Mistakes, accifauxpas, are re-afflicted,
Self-battles, arguments to be altercated,
Thoughts to be abandoned or alternated,
Food out-of-date to be oven-incinerated,
The meaning of life, not yet comprehended,
Waiting for death, to be awarded.
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I LIVE IN HOPE – I ACCEPT FAILURE
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

03/04/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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>>>>><<<<<
Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
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A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
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I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
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Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
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I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
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WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025
I had even fewer jumping awakes last night.
Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.

After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today.
Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did.
A good job that he remembered!

The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.

I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.

I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker.
I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!

A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe!
An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford.
I went inside the waiting room and waited.
But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!

I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me.
I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep!
At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t.
But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.

There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.

He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of.
Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.

Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something Wrong Here!

I pressed on with the day’s blog.

Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!

Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.

I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.

Back in the morning, I hope.

Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast…
Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…

I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again!
Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room.
The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!

I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it.
I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.