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Be aware that in indiscretion,
You may get a mental collision,
Which can cause self-derision,
Messing up your neurotransmission,
And, without your permission!
Ailments have no obluctation,
You feel that they get oblectation,
You visit your neurosurgeon…
Is life a pseudo-hallucination?
All of our lives are in regression,
You’ve lost your retrocognition,
PN, DVT, no prognostication,
Pharmageddon via your medication?
First Diarrhorea, & next constipation,
Confidence dies, feeling a pigwidgeon,
You think your brain’s an odditorium,
And life has got to be ordalian,
Do you feel different? Quotidian?
Is your social life in desolation?
Struggling with conceptualisation?
Are you livelier, antemeridian?
At noon, do you feel weather-beaten?
Do you get afternoon exhaustion?
Is tea-time your kipping season?
In bed, you can’t sleep for some reason?
Is mental fatigue the causation?
Or is it your body’s erosion?
Does the world seem dystopian?
Suffer from sanitary & sanity deterioration?
This is often just an old-age condition,
Do you think an interruption, a disruption?
Have you yet visited a psychometrician?
Does Earth need a reconceptualisation?
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Don’t expect a new life to be utopian!
Holidaying in the toilet or the Caribbean?
Has life been riddled with Damnification?
Was it spent in the lower echelon?
Do you suffer self-expostulation?
Do you know Earth’s nearing extinction?
This is not a joke or effutiation…
On this, I stake my reputation,
Do you feel an antiquarian?…
Well, don’t; it might cause acerbation!
It’s now time for an epiphenomenon,
Use your brain & nervous system…
Admit your guilt, write a eulogium,
Shout from Earth’s highest fastigium,
Humankind’s end is undoubtedly not an illusion,
We’ll all be free of intimidation…
Wars, murders, Oligarchs, every politician,
The greed, hatred and the odium,
Dead, we’ll all be egalitarian!
No way get a world-peace installation,
Well, this is my prediction…
It won’t bear too much contradiction…
Life’s events timewise, socialisation…
Birth, drugs, sex, physician, mortician,
Even if this gives you the impression…
That I’m suffering from depression!
It’s good to see the back of discrimination!
I believe this is mostly speculation…
Of course, it’s all theorisation,
Moulded to bring frivolity & jollification!
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05:20hrs: I rose fumblingly from the hospital bed, trapping the nocturnal catheter bag on the remote bed adjuster, and gave Little Inchie a hell of a tug. This started Inchies’s fungal lesion bleeding; it bled on the quilt, down my leg, and onto the carpet.
After I sorted out the mess, I went to the wet room to empty and wrap the catheter pouch that had been removed.
After months without a stubbed toe, I gave myself a second one in two days, on the same ingrowing toenail, as yesterday.
Then, I took a regulation photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window. Well, I got two.
This is one of a man and his dog walking into the tree copse over the road, the dog’s tail wagging furiously. A double dose of jealousy affected me. Haha! First, I wished I had a cat or dog for company; second, I missed my beloved, unable to do a daily walk through the copse. (Feeling a smidgeon sorry for myself now.)
Luckily, next, I had just nipped into the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running and found 
again. I’d run out of the cortisone cream. 
So I cleaned it and used some of the Germolene instead. Then, I returned to the kitchen and took another photograph of the broad view on offer.
Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd’s warning!
A bit of a marathon this morning. 
Bled a little 
more, I tipped over the bowl I was putting on the floor to stand in while shaving. Bending down to clear up the mess, and
flowed again! I finished shaving and got the PPs on.
I also touched up the Fungal Lesion, using the 
acne & eczema cream this time. I’d searched the med
ication drawers and found a partly filled tube of a different name. But it had a use-by date on it of… Hard to believe, I know, that it’s November 2019!
Carer Joe did the first call. I forgot to mention that Friday was the change-the-catheter bag day.
I booted the computer, an spent the nexy three hours farting about trying to get the photos to save to file. I did the first four, and there was no problem. Then it stopped saving. The usual cCleaner routine; I had to do it six times today! That didn’t help. So, I turned everything off and back on again. That proved an idiotic thing to do, well, not that actually, but forgetting to save the ode I was partway through writing was stupid!
At least 
it wasn’t so bad—up until now, anyway. Things took a dip after the young girl Carer called on her visit.
I was still trying to sort out CorelDRAW and the photos, and a series of 
kicked off that stayed on and off for a good three hours. This threw me out altogether. With my concentration gone, I managed to get some photos backed up later, but I had to delete the ones used and replace them with the new ones, so to put it. Now, the only copies left are on WordPress, and they can’t be copied or saved for use on the blog or email. I’m not sure if I was heartbroken, frustrated, or I was momentarily leaning towards suicidal.
When the Iceland order arrived, I only took one photo of the whole fridge. I didn’t bother taking more because I knew the chances of using them lay within the corrupt power of my old, in-need-of-help, ailing, terminally ill computer.
I got some stuff I can’t remember ordering. And somehow I believed I’d ordered some tinned baked beans and tomatoes, none came. It will be better when Carer Joe starts helping with the food ordering. I can’t be relied on, know it, and am incapable of anything that involves numbers, dates, concentration or logic.
The Social Services lady rang to ask how the new Carers were doing. Last week, I wondered if there was any chance of help getting me out shopping rather than the mistake-ridden online routine. The Carer said his boss said no chance. But the Social Lady told me they are giving me an extra hour (Still got to pay for, of course) for domestic and/or shopping assistance. Going slowly senile is a horrible thing, cause you know it, don’t want it, and can do nothing about it. I suppose it’s a little bit like my sex life, nonexistent. Hehehe!
Carer Ahram made the last two calls. He was in a good mood, bless him. The communication was complex, but I like the lad. When she rang, I told the Social lady that he’s likeable and willing. Without Carer Joe, I might have cracked up last week. His help was invaluable to me.
I did notice that when someone came and I put in the repaired hearing aids, I could hear the wall clock ticking and other sounds I could not recognise. Haha!
By the time I finished the meal, it was past midnight. Three oven-baked bacon cobs. This is a terrible photo. I wish I had not bothered with taking it now! Getting this onto the blog took me over two hours in the morning! Saturday’s blog will be a smidge bland. I just can’t keep spending all this time getting the photos saved to file. As usual, the first two went on without a bother. The rest must have taken me hours and hours of repeated failed tries. This can’t go on. I openly beg someone to help me with the computer, please?
The trouble is that I can no longer understand written instructions and don’t know any computer jargon, and I get more confused.
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TTFN
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nothing had changed from when 
was with me. No questioning the facts. That 
.
This first photo saved alright, but I lost several others.
Two hours later.
Another half-hour.
After sunset shot. Nice!
I’m unsure when or why I took this one. The bladder waters. It is possible that it is an older photo that was missed or that it was used earlier.
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. She was persistent with it. I think I may have had a few nocturnal seizures as well. So many wake-ups, but my response was different for some of them, and it took me a lot longer to get back to sleep after a few of them. There were none of the 
episodes and a few of the 
. Did you see that? I was being diagnostic, investigative, and problem-solving, on the verge of being semi-logical in my assessment of the night’s kipping difficulties? 
I removed the night bag from the day bag, and bending down, I got a visit from 
… that was a bad one. In the late afternoon, while on the computer, he called again and was even more effective. I had a good few today.
It looked bleak outside, with a bit of drizzle.
I did some hoovering and sorted the waste bins. Then, I felt guilty about the mess in the wet room that still needed to be cleaned, so I went to the wet room.
1
, gave way and I dropped the walking stick. I slid down with my back against the wall and plumped on a pack of six (approx. 5-inches high) mini-mineral spring water bottles onto my bum. With both knees doubled up, Arthur Itis and the Cartilages were agony!
The fridge.
The freezer.
The waters.
I took another kitchen window shot.
The day’s original Beloved Copse shot
To the left of the window and down a bit.
A ready-made beef in gravy with colcannon mashed potatoes. I added the last can of minced beef in gravy, carrots, and peas. Added some Marmite to the mixture and stirred it all up. Just four minutes in the microwave & it was ready-to-eat. 
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First view shot from the kitchen.
All being broken by being interrupted, and harder to get back into as the mini-seizures returned. I do not usually carry on doing anything when these arrive, just sit staring blankly, they tell me.
The carer also coded the night bag contents.
She took my blood, and we had a few minutes natter. I do love her so. ♥
Akmad wrote all the details down for me to put on the calendar.
I hung all the diabetic socks on coathangers above the sink to drip dry.
Early one.
Afternoon.
About 17:00hrs.
20:30hrs.
I was so tired out while making and prepping this decent-looking meal. And foolishly not asking the carer not to put the nocturnal catheter bag on cause I’d not made a meal yet. This means I was doddering around with Four-Pronged-Waking Stick Willie and carrying the night bag while trying to prepare the meal. Not easy. I don’t know what went wrong with the chips, but they were awful! I couldn’t find a use-by-date on the bag, but maybe they were outdated. I can’t remember even buying them.
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A seven onb the NHS Richter-Scale card. Hehe!
Ah, well!
Handwashed the thin dressing down.
I started with the usual seated part of the session.
,
From the computer, many things go wrong after the Windows update was installed. 
A late afternoon shot with Kodak Tim 2,
I prepped the meal for later cooking.
I have no idea what will happen. The preview is correct, but it’s all a frustrating mystery to me.
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from the kitchen window.
Then…
I made a brew & reset the antique-style calendar clock.
Oh, dear…
I didn’t get to finish them, as the intercom rang.
I got on the computer and used the Ccleaner again to get any photos onto CorelDraw. Well, I could, but it would not save them to file. No reasons were given, so I assumed the storage space was too low again. That did the trick, and as I was uploading…
got to me. Seconds later, I was getting on with the job, happy as a lark.
Two more mini ones, this time they left me fuddle-headed and confused to a degree. At least I realised this and stopped working on the computer for fear of going into a deeper seizure. I turned the computer to sleep mode, and before I could stand up – I’d gone into a cracking long, I assumed, Absence Seizure.
.
Tesco order. Just three bags – £59!
Mind you, I got two bottles of cider. (Guilt)
Food, food, & food.
Medications, soda water, PPs & bleach.
One.
It should be a balcony shower. WP or Google, although in the editor the proper photo shows, they keep shoving something else in, distorted snaps? I’m fed up with this.
What a variety!
Really dark at times today.
My worst effort this year, I think.
I then emptied the cookie jar of Cheezies! 
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Mystery Photo?
Got up to take these moon shots.
What happened to the moon?
Bad to bed. No kip. Up again and ate a jelly.
Early morning shots.
Blimey, I’d bought a lot! Marmite, potato cakes, patties and a pasty. Chips, yoghourts, Parmentier potatoes. Ready meals, cheesy cobs, Milk Roll bread…
Peas, more meals, Chinese sweet & sour…
Water and roast chestnuts, cheesy cobs, drinks, and cleaning products. Boy, did I spend!
.
The potato cakes were terrible!
Last night, I slept much shorter, but I was far less ridden with jumping awake all the time. And I did get back to sleep more quickly each time, even if 
tried a few times to tug out my interstitial sulcus. What was totally missing for the whole time was 
Misty morning.
Clock-Calendar changed.
Waste sorted.
The spuds were readied and put in the slow cooker.
Evening shot.
Nine hours later, I made the first mug of tea.
Realised I’d turned the slow cooker on to boil the spuds but left them on the old cooker.
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With cooked beetroot and battered mashed potatoes.
Two Natorra tomatoes left to have later.
from the day pouch, and from then on, I started so many tasks in a short space of time and made many errors. 
For example, after I started sorting the waste bags out. Got three bags into one and intended to do the other two. But no, not me. I found myself with my head in the oven cleaning the racks. I say I found myself because obviously one of the seizures had got a hold of me; the last thing I remember doing before this was taking the first bag to the door. And was going to sort the front room bins. I looked in the room, and they had not been done.
I reckon it caused me a bout of vertigo as I removed the shirt from the sink to the bowl. No need to tell you, but I will: I dropped the bowl, water all over the floor and me, and the monitoring station came through to tell me the water leak alarm had activated. It took me a minute or two to regain my balance sufficiently to reach the monitor.
Throne duties done.
as before I’d shaved! 
went okay. And… I got the fresh PPs on without any falls, stumbles or droppages! 
A Caregiver arrived, and I remembered that I needed to hang the Kagoule on the wetroom shower rails to dry. So, after the carer had medicated me, I got another kagoule washed and hung it up with the other in the wet room.
to the chute yet. 
traps on my fingers or my hand. And no walking into the doorframes. 
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Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
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.
After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.
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.
I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.
Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Early evening view.