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I’m now frequently confused, flabbergastingly,
Doreen Dementia guarantees my fallibility,
Working things out, I have little flexibility,
Sometimes I wish I lived in a Friary,
But there are people there who confuse Inchy,
I have ailments, not a disability…
I admit to having physical & mental frailty,
And live with seizures, most of them mini,
Compared to my lifestyle, formerly…
I don’t mind saying, nowadays I worry,
No one to converse with socially,
Sometimes, I’ll wake up gratifyingly…
But, never satisfyingly,
At times, I find life adversarially,
I fret over things universally,
In seizures, thoughts go atmospherically,
My usual mode turns to abnormally,
In rare up modes, I press on blithefully,
Ever present are doubts & hamartithia,
I lack tranquillity, equanimity & ataraxy,
Existing in solitarily, unsociably, introvertedly,
At times, showing stoicism, fortitude, longanimity,
I’m not short of talkativeness or loquacity,
But that’s usually with my EQ or Little Inchie…
The Grim Reaper, God, but mostly, with me!
I can still have moments of near lucidity…
I need help with my feeling nugatory…
But where do I find a mirabiliary?
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Busy morning, getting things ready to go to the surgery.
I thought I’d done a decent job of getting everything ready. I was running a little later than I’d hoped, but I still thought I could make it as I locked the flat and walked to the Sherrington Park Medical Centre. Going down Winchester Street, about halfway, there were plenty of things to photograph. I went to get Kodak Tim from the three-wheeled walker trolly… I was livid when I realised that when I’d put new batteries in back at the flat, I must have put them down and forgotten to replace them in the bag. I recall a Carer coming in when I was replacing the batteries. It doesn’t take much for Imchy to lose his plot or plans! Grumph!
I can’t believe the things I could have taken snaps of on my walk up Mansfield Road to Carrington. A gang of youths lurking behind the fast food kitchen in the back. A bumper-to-bumper crash near the Chapel. Then, four police cars belted past, going toward the City; I was at the top of the hill when they went by and could have caught all four vehicles, one an armed response one, in one frame.
As I was swearing and calling myself names for forgetting to take the Kodak, two more cars passed with lights on, both unmarked with hidden blue lights in the grill. I got even more annoyed with myself then. I would have taken a few shots of some trees and shrubs down the hill with various shades. By the time I got down into Carrington, I could feel bile building in my stomach… possibly caused by my inner outburst of self-loathing at forgetting the Kodak. It really pissed me off! I’d not felt so annoyed for at least 20 minutes. Tsk!
When I got to the Sherrington Park Medical Practice—I’m not kidding—I was still giving myself grief about not taking the Kodak and walked straight past it! I got down near the Lidl store and realised what I’d done. The self-annoyance, nay, self-anger, got even worse with me then! I wondered if I had a mini-seizure as I got to the surgery.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – ONE!
When I got inside, the do-it-yourself signing-in thingamajig was in use. No receptionist could be seen, but one did arrive shortly.
She arrived because somehow I’d crashed the signing in, wotsit. I couldn’t see how I could have done wrong; it’s only pressing the four confirmation buttons; I can’t recall which day, the month of birth, and the first letter of your Surname, I think. A message came up saying ‘Your arrival has been recorded, then the screen went blanl and the lady arrived, giving me a sort of look that said, “Oh, dear, it’s Him!”, or “Why does he have to come every time I’m on duty!” She was very nice about it, though. But my EQ rang out with that look I got. Haha! As I sat down, the lady in the waiting room indicated that the same thing had happened to her. That cheered me up.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – TWO!
I sat down and got my crossword book out, which made me more self-discussed! I also forgot to take my reading spectacles with me! It was much like hard work reading the clues, so after a few minutes, I gave up and put the book back in the trolley basket.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – THREE!
Whether it was a mini-seizure or I fell asleep, I can’t say.
I was roused by concerned patients in the waiting room. I was just about to fall off the chair when two of them grabbed me, preventing me from falling. The lady said she could see me nodding off, and I began to lean to my right more and more. Thanks to the man and woman for helping and rescuing me, whoever you were. ♥
SURGERY JOY – Nurse Caroline
Nurse Caroline came to collect me, and we entered the treatment room. The DVT nurse was not coming today; I expect another appointment will be given. But seeing Caroline’s sweet, helpful, caring smile took away any concerns. She has this effect on me, you know. 💘 I think at this stage, I had a mini seizure again cause the next thing I recall was leaving the centre and going into the car park. With no pain in either arm, had I had the RSV infection or not?
After a few minutes of pushing the 3-wheeled walker-trolley up the hill towards Sherwood, I felt the serum doing its thing in my right arm. There was very little pain compared to the two shots, COVID-19 and flu, last week. As I descended the Mansfield Road hill into Sherwood, I felt a little fatigued, a side effect I expected. I took my time.
I called into the J Sainsbury Local store the first time I’d been there. I got some treats for the wardens.
Then, I popped into the Continental shop to get another jar of the fantastic-tasting Golonkowa.
I got onto Winchester SDtreet and to the bus stop just as a bus arrived! It was one of the new buses that had space for me to stand up for the journey. I was soon up the hill and getting off the bus. There was no way I was up to walking up the hill. So, I’d had good & bad moments on today’s outing.
I was a smidge concerned about having good luck. Seeing Nurse Caroline, even if most of it was a blur now. Catching the bus with perfect timing!
It’s not natural to me.
BACK AT THE COMPLEX
I got off the bus safely, thanking the driver.
I called into the office to drop the bits off.
To the end of the building and up in the lift to cell 72.
I wearily got in and straight to the Porcelain Throne.
Trotsky Terence Contolled, a little messy.
Hunger took a grip, and I decided to have the cheesy cobs I’d bought, no-butter buttered, with pork in jelly, sliced oh so thick and crammed into the rolls. I also sliced some tomatoes (slicing off a bit off of the end of my left-hand thumb) to salt and add to the feast.
They tasted just grand!
The meat and the jelly blended with the cheesy roll delightfully!
Carer Promise arrived as I was emptying the day catheter. It had not filled up much because while out and about, I also forgot to take some water with me, as with the reading 
glasses and hearing aid batteries, and to pick up the Kodak Tim camera. As I emptied the urine pouch, I soon found out that it was not a good idea to forget to take the water with me. 
As you can see above, the urine was the bloodiest for many months, perhaps a year.
As per the NHS instructions, I called 111. Luckily, Precious had not left, and he took over the phone as I could not make out the questions being asked. As if I didn’t know what was about to be told me, it was “To drink more water.” So, I did! Fair enough, because I’d fallen asleep and did not drink enough.
I took a wash and meandered into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, but I stopped myself from making a brew, what with the dark colour of the urine.
I took these snaps of the sunsetting and got down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. The idea was to watch a documentary on the TV and then get my head down.
I’d gone off into a deep sleep within a minute.
I sprang a wake, unsure when or what time, and looked at the night catheter on the floor. It still seemed very dark to me. Got the Kodak and took this snap of it on the floor. Realising I’d not got into the bed, I checked the time… it was 04:00hrs. I got up, changed the catheter,
and decided to stay up. Bleary-eyed, with blood from the thumb having trickled down my nightwear. I was wiping it with a towel and 
on the bed leg.
I merely laughed it off! Of course.
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I hoped the Grim Reaper might be calling… but no! Hehe!
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I woke up, checked, and removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. I was eager to get going with the ablutioning. I seemed to be avoiding the usual morning depression today. That’s good for me! 
wind emitted from the rear end. So, sharpishly, I traipsed into the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne. It soon became obvious that yesterday’s 
Trotsky Terence affair was a one-off
It’s frightening how quickly one’s outlook on life can change. Depression can come on instantly and rapidly, followed by self-critical, lambasting thoughts and the desire to spit! 
I 
③ I gave up on the keyboard and threw it on the recliner. Keep the pain-givers together. Then, why didn’t I realise it sooner? I realised I’d got a 
new keyboard I bought ages ago, so I decided to try to set it up. 
⑤ It was a bit of another struggle for me to get the battery hinge off. Fancy that!) Then, I saw it took AAA batteries, not the AA ones I have lots of in the flat!
Of course, it had cost me two and a half hours to get it to work. But working it is! YeeHaa!
After putting the photos together, I found the one I thought I’d forgotten to take of yesterday’s meal: caramelised sausages, fresh peas, 
tomatoes, beetroot & red onions. Early evening sky, Bootiful!
I got the torch and looked underneath the dilapidated, breaking up, partially doored, second-hand bought Hopewell’s E-plan cabinet, with 7 drawers, of which two are still working, hoping to find that the remote had fallen and slid underneath it. I found pens, a pencil, and dried-rock-solid fresh peas. Along with a 1960 Scan Security Certificate of Merit, training courses passed, and two of the missing Health Alert wristbands… along with an old laptop, four AA batteries and an old pair of glasses in a case. But, no remote!
Then I foolishly tackled moving the 
I hoovered as I went along to reduce the mountain of dust, more rock-solid garden peas, more pens, and yet another mystery: three packets of French Fries with a sell-by date of February 2020. Ahem! This made me feel so guilty.
Saw a corner of the remote control sticking out. 
After washing the pots, I took five shots of the early-morning views from the kitchen. This is the only one that came out reasonably.