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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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I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. This is one of them I had to buy cause of the mess up and lack of help with my ordering. Some do have a drainage clip that has no drainage tube. Took it to the WC and used scissors to cut and drain the pouch. Still, it was no bother 
and went okay. As I got to the kitchen to get the kettle on, the innards grumbled and rumbled; in response, I returned hastily to the Porcelain Throne.
was going to ask someone, a Carer, when they came next. But of course, I forgot all about it, even when she was playing me up! I’m forgetting more each 
day! 
Not up to even my low standards.
photograph failers ever. No idea what I did wrong, but Surely I must have done something wrong to get this terrible result on the right?
order.
Spent a lot of cash this time! Mushrooms for pickling later on. Jamaica patties, a lamb and a beef one. Pork Pie, no-butter butter, Cornish Pasties, tomatoes, cream cake treats, and some horrendously pricey 
garden peas from Nigeria. I love these! Marmite Rice cakes, cheesy-topped rolls, a bag of sea salt & cider crisps and Marmite crisps.
A bottle of mulled wine. Reduced to clear after Christmas. A large bottle, cans of Sainsbury’s cider, and a bottle of washing-up liquid.
I took this snap of myself inside the main junk room, looking through the balcony doors and blowing my nose. Then took the photo below as the day slowly 
dawned, and turned brighter.
it gave way to me, and I walked into the foyer door frame. I believe I said, “Well, fancy that!” 
I struggled to communicate with Chloe, yet I always seemed to be waffling and losing track. Then, my beloved Nurse Hristina arrived while Chloe was hoovering the hallway for me. 
I managed about five minutes on the blog, and the landline chimed up. The call was from Sister Jane. Not heard from her for a while. All the best for the new year sort of thing. But had a good chat. Jane & Pete are going to the pantomime shortly. She was sorting the food, and Pete the booze. Hehehe!
Then, back to have another go at this blog. 
in-the-bog!
I returned to the computer again and finished about 15 minutes of work. The door chime chimed out! En route to the door, this time, Cartilage Carole gave way. I opened the door, and to my delight, the postman was working late and delivering my eBay-bought nocturnal catheters! We had a chinwag, as we both have catheters, but he has the latest ones, which look so painless to wear; I was jealous when he told me the other week about it. He is being sent supplies that have built up, and he has too many! Another twitch of jealousy crept in; Hahaha! He kindly told me that if I was ever running so low again, I was to put a note on the door, ‘Barry, I’m short on night catheters’. He even checked on my catheter to ensure the tubing was the same size. What a kind, thoughtful gentleman he is!
I gathered the items needed to make the pickled mushrooms. got the mushroom in the slow cooker, on a high heat,
Going to take a photo of the evening sky, this time it was 
. The Catheter Day pouch took a good hit but surprisingly did not split open. Even more amazingly, as I was about to get back into the main junk room and the recliner to get back up again, I grabbed the sink side and got up; painfully, but I got up! 
Art Decko?
A bit of both?
Well, what can I say?
.
Ah, well, I did my best!
Ah, better get the mushrooms into the pickle jar. I would have a pastie, peas and chips for my morning meal. But I’m too worn out to bother now.
But I ate it all!
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After many false starts, lack of interest, and repeatedly nodding off again, I felt the motion in the innards. Rumbling with the odd, almost sloshing sensation at times that threatened the return of Trotsky Terence’s return. But not yet of an urgent nature, more a pre-warning, methinks.
As I was taking this snap of the removed from the catheter nocturnal pouch and saw the terribly deep colour, the need for the Porcelain Throne became more intense. In my haste to ensure I got to the WC on time, I 
had a couple of Accifauxpas en route. 
sent a couple of disorientating streaks of lighting up the leg. I’ve never suffered two in a row before. She carried on throughout the day, giving me the odd one now and then, but no more doubles. That double was really painful!
. 
was back in full control, no doubt about it. However, the Kharki colour that he had favoured for a fortnight now was again on show. It was straw-like in appearance. I checked the time and decided I could get the ablutions done before a Carer was due. So I did…
, to give way.
tube. Next, to the various medicating duties. I olive-oiled the earholes. 
Then Phorpain gelled Cartilages Carole and Chloe. Then Arthur Itis’s patella to the front of both legs. Got Acne on the head and eczema on the 
belly and chest creamed. Red Rash ointment under the man-breasts and down bellow. I can’t reach to get the ingrowing toenails done or get my Diabetic socks on; I’ll ask the Carer later. Sprayed over the toothache. Nasal sprayed the nostrils.
On to the blogging.
The Iceland Man Cameth.
Popped the bags in the doorway for me.
Topped up with drinkies to keep the bladder and catheter happy.
And some treats for myself.
arrived.
I took this shot of the sunset from the kitchen window. Then 
I didn’t!
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, 
, 
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along with 
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, & several nasty 
& 
. No doubt these were assisted by 
.
Far too dark, again!
Carer Kimberly took a photo of my head wound that I knew Nothing about. So, there’s nothing new there!
Bootiful clouds!
A rather skimpy early meal. But it tasted nice. Podded fresh peas, a pastie and a dab of pickled ketchup.
Afternoon, the sun was in and out for hours.
Bottom rear department…
Carer Chris arrived, taking snaps of the leg and ankle problem area. I must ask someone to call the District Nurse; maybe they can send a photo of the infected area?
This is the last shot of the day that Kodak Tim allowed onto his SD card, but where did they go? How? Why?
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gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think? This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had 
, in front, along with 
bleeding at 
the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.
dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, g
,
, 
, 
or any of the ailments really
room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my 
was getting better bit by bit. 
are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. 
is to 
blame.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.
about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. 
I took these photos later. 
, I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A 
swiftly, ASAP.
I gave up on the blogging
.
But the meal was worth the hassle. 