Inchy: Friday 3rd January 2025

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Inchy: Why do you mention I’m depressed?
Grim: You are obviously out of it detracted!
Inchy: Detracted? No, but I am dim-witted,
Grim: Delipidated, & diabetically demented,
Inchy: Well, to a small degree, I do feel dejected,
Grim: And discriminated, against, disenchanted?
Inchy: Well, possibly disjointed & dislocated,
Grim: You’re feeling undiagnosed, disregarded?
Inchy: How do you know all this? I’m dumbfounded,
Grim: You look & sound like an eggheaded plod! 
Inchy: You’re saying I’m dunderheaded?
Grim: Yes, & downcast, discontented, disoriented,
mentally dissected, & obviously diapered,
Inchy: Hang on… am I or not being Grim Reapered,
Grim: You’re on the waiting list, position 623rd!
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0315hrs: I sprang awake more slowly today. A certain reluctance lingered as I noted what the time was. I tried to get back to sleep, but it was impossible. I removed the overnight Catheter Pouch. Cartilage Carole did not bother me as I tried to rise, but Cartilage Chloe had it for me. By the time I’d carried the nocturnal bag to the WC for emptying, she had given way twice. No falls or tumbles, though. I emptied the pouch and wrapped it up. Then I had a search for the reading spectacles lost yesterday, in I thought, the wet room. Talk about reversals; after days of Trotsky Terence in charge, Constipation Conrad was back in charge. After a determined and painfully encouraging, pushing session, I gave up any hopes of achieving evacuationing.

With figuratively crossed fingers, I put the computer on and started to upload and save the photos for yesterday’s post updating. One went okay this time.

Within ten minutes, I needed to visit the Porcelain, hoping that this time Constipation Conrad had eased off enough for me to evacuate. Off I trundled to the wet room.
After I bought more toilet rolls to counter Trotsky Terence, Conrad Constipation returned with a vengeance!
It may have only been a few minutes to force things along. Painfully! It was more like the shape of the H-Bomb, Little Boy. I needed another couple of minutes to recover from the effort! Hehe! I can laugh now! On the bright side, cleaning up after the evacuation was easy.

I poddled back to the computer. After four more hours, around 0800hrs, I realised the Carer had not arrived yet. And it showed the outside temperature at -3°c when I first put the computer on. It’s showing 0°c now. Still too cold not to have my socks on. Brrr! I will make a mug of tea to help warm me up, then put a quilt over me when I return to the computer. They can leave off the midday call now; no point in medications. I have to leave 4 hours between each tablet and medicine taking. 08:10hrs now.

0905hrs: Carer Christopher came as I took photos of the cold-looking morning views.
First, Chris got the medications issued. He remembered to put on the diabetic socks for me, and after I reminded him, the Friday fitting of a fresh day pouch was carried out. Hehe! We chatted, and he nibbled on the treats throughout. Haha!
The lad did a decent job fitting the day catheter. The socks are now keeping me warm, and I feel a warm sensation that things could turn for the better now.
Why? A Good questions.
Answer: I’ve no idea.
But it could be because I got help yesterday from outsiders. DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse Christina, Catheter bags ordering. Matron Julie, with the BP and health checks, and Anne Gyna were not playing up so much.

Here are the photographs taken just before Carer Chris arrived. I’ll change that. Here is the picture taken just before Carer Chris arrived. The Kodak sent the other one taken into the ether. Humph!

I went to the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running. I’m doing this too often lately, and it gets me mad at myself… feeling guilty and depressed. But not this morning. I came out and went to put the kettle on and found the missing pair of long-range glasses sitting on top of the mini oven. This cheered me considerably, and I took the spectacles to the junk room, where I cleaned them, finding out… . I must have put them on there and then cooked the sausages for half an hour… the frames are now warped! I didn’t cry, but it was a close thing. But it doesn’t bother me.

Frustrated, I made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. And raided my biscuit box. I wish I hadn’t now.  
The first dunk in the tea with one of the large LU cookies and the biscuit crumbled and fell in the mug, splashing the old-fashioned clock/calendar, cabinet me, and the notepad. Humph!

I was peed off with myself again. I carried on with the blog and finished yesterday’s work. A text message told me the food order would arrive between 1100 & 1200hrs.
So I got some boxes and carriers near the door to use when the delivery arrives. I took the large waste bag to the chute without walking into anything or finger-trapping.

I looked at Cavendish Vale houses to see if the loft drug growers were at it again. Looks like it to me. Do you see the roofs that were defrosted earlier than others? That looks suspicious to me. And there were two police cars and a van on it yesterday evening.
I went into a Sherlock Holmesian mode then. Sorry about that. Hahaha!

Around 1400 hrs, the Mini-Seizures, the kindest they have ever been since she moved in with Peripheral Pete and Nicodemus’s Dying Neurotransmitters, started making a belated charge and engaged her attack mode.
During this, Carer Joanne called, and we started sharing jokes and events; it was like having medicine. I was almost entirely with it suddenly. No sooner than Joanne departed the flat, then  began again, and stayed with me a long time. Everything went hazy. They were extremely short events, but was that a good thing? It seemed I could not get anything right on this block. Each time I came out of one, I had to check everything I’d done and correct it. Also, this is the first time I’ve gone back into a mini seizure so quickly, and on one occasion that I recall, I was putting things right and went off again. What the… I nearly swore then; heck is going on. And this morning, she was all but absent? The nurse thinks they are a part of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. I searched the web to see if I could find anyone who suffers from it and found anything to counter it. I only got as far as this bit that I’ve copied on neurotransmitters.

Here are some key facts about neurotransmitters, which are chemical messengers in the body & brain. Their function is to transmit signals from nerve cells to target cells. These signals help regulate bodily functions ranging from heart rate to appetite. Neurotransmitters are part of the nervous system. Neurotransmitters are released from the end of an axon into the synapse, where they travel across to receptors on the next neuron. The neurotransmitters fit into the receptors like keys into locks. How they influence neuronsNeurotransmitters can influence neurons in three ways: excitatory, inhibitory, or modulatory. Excitatory neurotransmitters promote action potential signalling, while inhibitory ones prevent it. Examples of neurotransmitters Serotonin is an inhibitory neurotransmitter that helps regulate mood, behaviour, sleep, and memory. Epinephrine, or adrenaline, is an excitatory neurotransmitter that stimulates the central nervous system. (Hence Shaking Shaun? Shaking Shoulder Shirley & Twitching Neck Nigel?) Abnormal levels of neurotransmitters can lead to dysregulation of brain functions and various diseases. Examples of Disorders Associated With Defects in Neurotransmission
Autism, Anxiety, Autism spectrum disorders, Brain injury, Depression, Seizure disorders, Neuroleptic malignant syndrome, Pain, Parkinsonism, Parkinson disease, Schizophrenia, Tardive dyskinesia, Myasthenia gravis, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Episodic ataxias (that’ll be Seizure Sanda?), Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis, Hypokalemic periodic paralysis, paramyotonia congenita, Rasmussen encephalitis, & Organophosphates.

I was going to go on to check Peripheral Neuropathy and my other ailment, but after reading this about my dying neurotransmitters… what’s the point?
It all baffles me. With so many things connected, it’s not surprising that the clinic gave this answer when I asked years ago, What is the treatment?
“There is none; no one can save a dying nerve end”.
Of course, as I knew, it was slowly getting worse, and I was getting more depressed with it all.

I just had to force myself to check on the first Peripheral Neuropathy explanation that came on my search.
PN: Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that can cause a variety of symptoms, including:

Numbness, tingling, or prickling: (Yes, I’ve got all of them)

These sensations can start in your hands or feet and spread up your arms and legs.

Pain: You might experience sharp, burning, throbbing pain or pain during activities that shouldn’t cause pain. (Yes, that’s me!

You might experience muscle weakness or loss of muscle tone. (Yes, I’ve got them)

Loss of balance: You might experience difficulty coordinating or falling. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)

Changes in sensation: You might not feel temperature changes or pain. (Spot on again!)

Other symptoms: You might experience cramping, muscle twitching, changes in skin, hair, or nails, or emotional disturbances. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Autonomic changes: You might experience heat or cold intolerance. Or related problems.

Problems with blood pressure, bowel or bladder control, or swallowing. (Yes, I’ve got all of them) In fact, the DVT Warfarin INR level is dropping again, and they are going to send me some Enoxaparin injections to go in the stomach three times a day on both sides. I’m looking forward to injecting myself, if not needed to, for over a year now. No problem, really… apart from the pain. Which is something I’ve learnt to live with… Live? Me? Cope with, is a more accurate statement. 

To add to possible concerns, there’s Metal Micky in my ticker. Toothache Tiffiny, Bad Hearing Boris, Gladys Glaucoma, Catheter Cathy’s Contraption, Diabetes2, FND, Colin Cramps, a daily Porcelain Throne Visits with a choice of Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad (it’s always one or the over, never normal), Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Deakness, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Arthur Itis & Cartilage Damage in both knees, Little Inches fungal lesion bleeding, Mind-Blanks, Short Term Memory Problems, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s Leg Dances & Right Arm Hitler Salutes, both involuntary, Back-Pain-Brenda, Onychovryptosis (ingrowing toenail), Earaches Erasmus, and Eczema & Acne. I may have missed a few. Hehehe! 

Do you know, the chinwag & laugh with Joanne, then the nurse, had was a reet treat. 

The later seizures seem to be a little different.
Gar more shaking from the right arm & leg. More persistent with it as well. My head was involuntarily bent down and forward on each of the last four episodes. I’d be lost if I didn’t have at least one new ailment or quirk to worry about daily.
The shock could be fatal. Haha!

Daily FodderCheesy cobs & tomatoes were lovely. As was the pickled mushrooms, red cabbage & onions.
The pork pie & potatoes were not so good.
Ah, well, can’t win ’em all!

I suddenly felt weary and tired. Almost instantly, after turning off the computer, Carer Christopher arrived, removed my socks, and medicated me. He covered me with a quilt after putting on my night catheter pouch; bless him. He knew I would not make it into the hospital bed tonight, and he was right!
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TTFN

Fiddlededee Inchy: Sunday 29th December 2024

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INCHY’S SPORTING FAILURES
Football for Oil Drum Lane Athletic,
They soon discovered I was pathetic…
I’d like to have tried something aquabatic,
But if I go near water, I panic,
Whist; for my partners, this was tragic!
They threw me out, but I was apologetic,
Weight lifting? 1st session, I looked cadaveric!
Angling Club had no wins, but I was the bus comic,
Darts, I played better, avoiding the gin & tonic,
Mt teammates christened me ‘The Dipshit’!
At that, I found I was even more chronic!
Now, at squash, I was doing well, almost dynamic,
Of course, I didn’t win any games, dammit!
Archery, not strong enough or ergonomic…
Parachuting, I did one; it was too frenetic!
Bungee Jumping, I did one, and it was fantastic!
Second go, that was something of a classic,
I ended up in the hospital when the platform split,
Gave me a skrik, it left me spasmatic,
On a machine, I think it was electrotherapeutic,
On to my time being sportingly pugilistic,
I may have been nervous, but I went ballistic…
I was too small. That was my sitch…
The first punch I took, I was kayoed out of it!
The reasons above for this ode reading are so threnodic!
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Yet again, it was a night of broken sleep. A little different, though, this time. The usual trend lately is for me to wake with a jump or jerk, as if someone had prodded me awake. Most of Saturday night’s last night’s disturbances were almost calm and serene. But there were far more of them this time. I was having the odd mini-seizure now and then, most times after waking. Working out the time was surprisingly difficult… did you ask why? Then I’ll tell yers. I first went into the land of bliss as I was watching TV, and… unbeknownst to me, I moved into the hospital bed. When I decided to get up, I wondered what the heck was happening. (Thinking that I was in the recliner) I looked at the clock and saw the wall about 4 inches from my nose! Hehehe!
I tried to stand up to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch off. For a few moments, I was baffled by the situation. As I turned and hit my head on the anti-fall bar, I realised where I was and could not find the clock.

Extracting my flabby body from the bed went great! Because both Cartilage Chloe and Carole were painless. Arthur Itis’s stiffness was letting me know about it. Once I sat on the side of the bed, I checked the clock; it was 05:10hrs. I got the bag off of the catheter. There was not much urine in it, and it was of a top-rating colour on the card.

I wanted a mug of tea, so I went into the kitchen, checked taps, etc. and took two photos of the morning view, and it was fogless for the first time in three days.
So, the pictures looked semi-decent compared to the foggy ones taken over the last few days. I decided the next job would be to get the done.

I utilised the Porcelain Throne first… well, I meant to. But Constipation Conrad prevented any motions from starting.
I realised I’d not got the tackle needed. So I fetched the bath towel and Kagoule, Kaftan, Thobe, Longshirt, or whatever you call it, from the hallway. Returned to the wet room, and showered, and shaved.
Apart from a little difficulty getting the fresh Protection Pants on, all went so well that I thought it might be a last treat from the almighty before the Grim Reaper arrives. Haha! 
Also, it took only 1 hour 30 minutes from start to finish!

!
All fresh, clean, and in a good mood, given how well the ablutions had gone, I went to the kitchen to make the mug of Glengettie that I’d failed to make earlier. I got the kettle on again… The innards warned me to get back to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So, I did… I cannot believe how things changed so much. At the first sitting, nothing would move, and as seen, I blamed Constipation Conrad.
But it was a performance this time. I have never been so close to a voluntary evacuation before without it happening!
So I think I had a bit of luck there, really.

I got the tea made and reset the retro 1970s-style clock calendar. Then I got on the computer. Ten minutes later, I fumbled  back as fast as possible to get to the Porcelain Throne again! Yet again, apart from Starmer, someone must have been watching over me. Because it was as close a job to things escaping as it was on the second visit! Phew! Can this good fortune last? Is it a trick by the devil to make me relax and get caught out on the next visit? I expect to have a few more yet. The innards started slowly churning again no sooner than when I sat back down on the computer. I’ll avoid starting to feel optimistic about the situation. My belief that things will finally turn around, only for another adverse event to happen, reinforces the idea that my bad luck is persistent.  Well, it is! Tsk!

Carer Kimberly arrived; I’ve not started on any blog work yet. I forgot to ask her to put my diabetic socks on for me. What a turd I am! Sometimes, the Carers remember, but not today. Not that I blame them. Just wish I could remember to ask.

When Kimberly left, I thought about what to have for nosh tonight. I had a look at the food available in the kitchen, fridge, cupboards and freezer
I put some spuds into the slow cooker. Then, what did I do after seeing the morning view getting more blue? I took a photo; in fact, I took two. I’ll blow this second one up.
Can you tell what the things in the sky are? None in the first shot, just the close-up one? Thanks!
Of course, it could be some gunk on the lens? I’ll see what the next one looks like.
I’ll have some Golonkowa later on the meal. I love pork knuckle. This Polish can of it usually have plenty of pork jelly included. Very nice! I’ve got the memory of the taste coming back now.

I was tempted to nibble at the LU Cookies, my new favourite biscuit nowadays. If I open the packet, I may be tempted to eat a few, spoiling the dinner later. So, I resisted the temptation. It’s easy when you are as determined as I am to do the right thing. Alright, I only ate
two of them! .

The blog work is getting slower and slower and becoming more mistake-ridden. I am determined to get it together and to concentrate. Then Carer Selina arrived. I’ve not seen her for weeks. She has been off for a while with a broken foot! I forgot to ask her to put the socks on again. We were having a little natter… I went into what (Selina thinks were two) mid-conversation.This time, it seemed I just looked like I’d fallen asleep, but I was muttering. I can recall nothing of it while I was out of it. Then, according to Selina, I started carrying on from our conversation… after a few words, I drifted off again. I think it was good that someone had seen it as it happened. But she said it frit her a bit.

After she left, blurred my vision, and I had to give up on the blog. I’m unsure if it was in the report, as I couldn’t read the writing. Not that anyone reads them.

I think I took this photo earlier in the day. But midst the seizures, I managed to miss it off then. I do that a lot, you know… miss things off.
These I took when I went to the fifth mug of tea of the day. I did manage to drink one of them… I think I did. I’m all over the place mentally now.
Ah, I just saw the circle I put on this one on the left. Same snap as the one on the right above. I’ve blown it up. I’m hoping that someone can determine what it is. Well, I know not what it is. Is it a bird? Is it an alien? Is it an Angel? Or is another freebie donation being delivered to Starmer as a backhander?

A Day of Mysteries, Today.

Ah, well, I’ll get summat to eat then.
Golonkowa, pickled beetroot & water chestnuts, cheesy no-butter, buttered bread rolls, and some tasteless potatoes that need the sauce to flavour them. The biggest disappointment? The crap, bland, going soft tomatoes!
But I ate it all… bar some of the spuds.

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Have a Fantastic Day!
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Croaking Inchy: Wednesday 25th December 2024

Not Starmer, naturally!

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I’m not having any Christmas fare,
I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair,
Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger
It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger,
I feel I’m no longer a belonger…
I was happier when I was boozier,
I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier…
Living life like a boondoggler,
A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger,
Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater,
Mild now, worse as I get older…
Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter,
I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma,
Never wanted excess money or grandeur,
Others notice as you get gimpier,
You may suffer from graphomania,
Ending up a grammaticaster,
I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter,
Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier,
No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter,
Concentration and memory will falter,
You become an easy target for any finagler…
Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter,
My turn to become a contradicter…
It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania,
When it comes to life’s final closure…
Things will be revealed by your claviger…
Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever,
Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever,
To return to earth, you must be a groveller,
And bare-face liar, like Starmer!
And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer!
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Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one!

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The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday.  Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)

I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!

My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think. 
Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two. 

As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time.
I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!

Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.

I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN!
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It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻

I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door.  I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha! 
I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.

Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night.
I’m sorry I mentioned it now.

When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer. 

Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo.
It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime! 
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I’d better get my Christmas meal started.
Not as good as the criminals’ meal,
But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!

Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding  (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course.
It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

Carer Victor did the last call.

I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs.
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Sayonara

Dicacious Inchy: Friday 30th August 2024

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SD CARD FOUND STUCK UNDER RECLINER! The last two lines added
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TODAY HAS BEEN THE WORST EVER FOR DEPRESSION
I’m sorry, but things are getting gradually worse.
The insurance company has cancelled my policy for some reason. Carer Kara told me not to worry weeks ago when they sent a letter telling me I had not paid. Kara had sent the month through the bank, as she is my official representative.
Now it seems I have a different Carer, who can’t talk to the bank, and muggings here can’t get through because I’ve forgotten how to do it. The new catheter is a night and day, mare.
Concentration is taken over by worrying.
I have had the odd moment of feeling easier, but that only comes when I give up and think silly things.
Not in good shape at the moment.
I’ve not done many photos.

The electric shocks have lessened after yesterday.
Carer Precious. Carer Maryham. She helped me get dressed after checking the body for marks and ointmentating the chest and ‘other’ areas. She helped me put on the Yaohuole gown, put the old one in the laundry bag, and took it down for me as she left. Bless her.
I was not feeling down at all; in fact, I was high.
Later, Carer Joanne called with a training Carer. She was Carer Šelin. Nice gal. Listened to Joanne’s instructions.
I was then even higher, singing.
Then, later, Carer Chris arrived. A letter from the insurance company had been delivered. This is terrible news for me. How the hell can I sort it out now?
I’ll do my best. I’m struggling.
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Not a lot, but clear.

First view.

Guess where I went…
Not that I was too bothered; I’d sank a little.

Second photo.

While up, I got the pander peas podded.
I shelled them and put them in the pan with some demerara sugar, and this time, I used ordinary salt.


Lack of concentration.
Fed up. I wrote a terribly sour ode, but I am unsure if I should publish it on tomorrow’s blog. It is a cry for help, I think.
See how things go the morrow.

I was sorely tempted to start on the booze again.
I’m sure I will soon. That’s how bad the depression is getting to me today. Bad!

When the seizures started, I couldn’t have cared less. Dark thoughts milled around.
Self-pity and loathing at the same time.

I’ve no idea why I put this on? I took it weeks ago.

No memory of taking these four, but it looks like I did them all at the same time; it may have been before I got the spuds in the oven on a low heat for later.
Beautiful!

And stayed in there for about three hours!
I may have to have instant mash later. Tsk!

Tried to catch up with the blogging. I’d spent so much time being depressed, coping with seizures or emptying this ridiculously tiny day catheter pouch.

If I recall correctly, I was going to check on the state of the spuds and got distracted by the changing sky.
The spuds were left for another hour and a half before I remembered about them!

Went to salvage what I could.

A slight altercation getting the spuds out of the oven.
The meal didn’t look attractive.
A vegetarian one this time.
But it tasted good to me.

After Carer Chris had departed, I washed the things, put them away, and took these sun-setting shots.
Looked a little like a water painting job.

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TTFN