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In my dream, were things terrestrial,Â
Thoughts, hopes, desires, nothing bestial,
Treaties, warrants, insurances, so torchable,
Guilty, Oligarchs, politically, & legally untouchable,
Due to our lawmakers being so quickly bribable,
MPs values, honesty, reliability at best theoretical,
How have they solved the Bermuda Triangle?
The mystery seems to be uncrackable,
No-hours contracted workers, legally sackable,
Farmers, pensioners, HMG find robbable,
MPs expenses no longer seem checkable?
Proven dishonest leaders are impeachable?
Guilty murderers are so quickly freeable?
Ministers are unpalatable, unpardonable…
Them lining their pockets seems unstoppable,
Morals & standards are sacrificeable,
Decency & compassion are no longer salvageable,
Despotical bigotry, actions detestable…
Wars, violence, greed everywhere detectable,
Can we trust anything electoral?
Politicians are doubtable, dishonourable,
Do they need help, exorcistical?
They are unceasing with their flummadiddle,
They’ll always seek a way to fiddle!
They are the reason the world’s in such a pickle!
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With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon.
Last night, none of the others made it to the SD card, but this one did! (Or did it?). I half expected it not to go on. I spent ages trying to get the card recognised, and when I eventually got to it, this photo was there! There is a chance it may be an old one, of course. So, I took another picture straight away… that did not go on. The second, third, and fourth ones didn’t make it either.
Now I’m doubting what I actually had for the meal.Â
With the others not going on, I think it is likely that I made a mistake somewhere along the line. My new excitement at thinking the camera had miraculously started working again was replaced with a new low – mostly at my stupidity in thinking this was from last night. Humph!
Confusionableitis Reigned.
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Once again, the night’s rest was well-broken. However, I soon nodded off after each awakening, back into the bliss of sleep. I had several dreams, but my memories are too vague to guess at their topics. When I shot awake at 7:00 a.m. and realised it was so late, I also realised that I must have skipped at least six hours. So that was good.
Then the run started.
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and started standing up using 
. Within seconds I was clunking back down into 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, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Unsure if 
, or 
hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!
I cleaned up and medicated the lower regions first. Then the 
areas, then the rear end. Then, the Phorpaining of both Cartilage Chloe and Carole’s cartilages moved onto 
knees. Olive-oiled the ears, 
applied, and Creosoted the Ankle Ulcer. I’ve named it Creosoted because it reminds me of it when I painted it on. Haha!
Then, I decided to get the showering and shaving done. I had to get a long shirt and fresh dressing gown sorted first. Â I’d run out of clean shirts! These can’t be 
washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that. This, of course, got me all confused. I ended up washing another shirt in the sink. Hanging it up to dry over the sink… but the shirt was too long. I went into Sherlockian Mode to work out what I could do? Finally, deciding to hang it on the shower rail with a bowl underneath to catch the water. I very nearly adopted a 
.
I went back to the wet room and hung them up. Of course, now I couldn’t get in the shower. So I pressed on with having a shave. As I’d got the foam on, I dropped the can. I held onto the seek carefully as I bent to pick it back up – naturally, the foam was on the sink, and my hand slipped! 
.
I hit the top of my head on the Porcelain. Carried on with the shaving and noticed a trickle of blood coming from the top of my head in the mirror.Â
As I went to grab the aftershave, I knocked the long shirt off of the rail… it fell into the water below… I swore rather vociferously, as I recall. I retrieved the shirt and rehung it, all freshly rewetted. Huh!
The blood had by now left a pretty pattern down the side of my head, over my chin, and onto my man breasts & chest. I used paper towels to clean it. Using a lot of aftershave to stem the flow. Back to finishing the shaving… The shaving was completed within a minute or two. By this time, a similar pretty pattern of the leaking blood had reappeared.
Off to the medical chest to get a plaster cleaned after shaving the tiny little wound and applying a plaster.
Then I wrote on the memory pad, which enabled me to write this rubbish in detail later.Â
I had to sort out the mess in the kitchen from earlier, the wet room, and the shirts. What did I do? I decided the most crucial task was to make a brew of tea, which I did! However, I didn’t get to drink it. Carer Chloe arrived at 08:50 hrs on her first visit.
She pointed out that I had blood running from my head—haha! She wiped it and put a plaster on it while I bore her with tales of my calamities of the day. She then issued the medications and put on the diabetic socks. She also took the laundry with her, including two long shirts. That was kind of her. She was due back later on a domestic call.
As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened!
This evacuation was the messiest ever! Well, not counting the involuntary one when I had the stroke, of course). Gooey in the extreme! An entire toilet roll standard! Stinky! .
I’m no longer as confident of events as I was earlier. Things got foggier when Carer Chloe returned. She’d kindly returned the washing all done apart from the long-shirts. They could not be used in a hot drier, and the ones in the laundry room do not have that facility. So, she hung them back up on the shower rails again. All that help is back at square one. Hehe!
How can people talk about being bored in old age?
If, as I have, one becomes accustomed to Accifauxpas, Whoopdiedangleplops & evil luck, it certainly avoids any chance of boredom setting in. Just a point, but I’d rather like time to get some being bored in! Not too much! I just want to see what it is all about. Of course, I have the benefits of Cogniscent Impairment Iris, FND, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, & Seizure Sandra’s attentions. Is having all four of these ailments probably better than having just one? I’m not confident or sure of how I worked that out now. But it seemed apparent & logical to me at the time.
Chloe checked on the dates of the food. I asked her to take some short-dated items for others to use. She washed the main kitchen windows for me and quickly wiped the floor.
Tomorrow, I think, is a finance visit. Maryham, I guess.
Carer Sam called. We had a precious laugh.
Pressed on with the blog. But such a late start. I’m miles behind with things yet.
It’s now mid-afternoon. Not a single seizure from Sandra has not reported a single seizure. However, I’m sure the mini-ones have been missed in the past.
17:20hrs: Carer Rachel did the teatime call.
I gave up on this blog and went on WP Reader & Comments.
SUGAR! 
is off again.
I’ll try to get summat to eat.
Carer Rachel made the last two calls.
Sleep was a long time coming tonight.
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AU REVOIR
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I began the battle to get out of the bed. Back-Pain-Brenda and Cartilages Chloe & Carole were unhappy being forced to move at 0500hrs. I noticed there was not much in the Ncturnal night pouch this morning. At first, I was most satisfied to see the bright colour, but when I got around to emptying it, I realised that it was one of the new ones that eBay had delivered last night. These were much cheaper than the others available but did not have a release valve. Also, the PVC, or plastic bag, was much thinner, and the urine was much darker as I cut the bag. Can’t win’em all!
I got into the kitchenette to check things; no taps had been left on, and no doors or windows were left open. I avoided going into a 
The sky was fog and mist-free! That’s because the snow and ice will be brewing from Storm Darrach, bringing Red Warnings for Wind and Snow. Apparently, the lowest temperature recorded in Nottingham was −13.3 °C (8.1 °F) on 13 January 1987 and 23 January 1963. That’ll cheer up amphibologically-trained murderer Starmer. I can see it now; “200 Nottingham pensioners died in last night’s storm.” Herr backhander-taking Starmer was told, he replied, “So?”
All that stuff I’d done. Some witty, some sarcastic. But it was all a little entertaining, I thought. There were many insults about Starmer – but not now. I’m even nervous to try again. Thoroughly depressed beforehand. Knowing it could happen again if the seizures or shakes return. I’m heartbroken, I think.
Waste bags sorted.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Say no more…
The night shots I had to force myself to take.
Despite my low spirits, I countered them by telling myself that whatever lousy luck I suffered, I must deserve it. I should accept these Accifauxpa & Whoopsiedangleplops without all my childish moaning and groaning, self-castigating episodes.
Last of the sunset!
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. 
shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Brenda was happier there, painful still, but not by so much. Then, I removed the night bag from the catheter contraption. What an odd mixed colour it was?
ff to get the kettle on, and I took this snap of the view out there. This one was oddly coloured as well. To my eyes, there were no clouds at all. I 
may have taken it in the wrong mode, I think. To the wetroom next, to visit the 
.
got grounded and burst by the cement like evacuating product. I was pleased at first that there was no splattering to clean up. But blood had dribbled down the legs. No winning for me. Trotsky or Conrad, one or the other extreme to cope with. It’s never an ordinary session nowadays.
I went to sort out the waste bins and took these two shots from the kitchenette window. The top one shows the shadow of the block of flats as the sun rose from the left. 
I was about to turn on the kettle when the intercom chime chimed out. It was the J Sainsbury order. I’ve already made an order for food from Asda for next week. Huh! Read on.
Got the goods in boxes, and the catheter needed gallons of water in the hallway.
as I did so. 
The second box, which I emptied, contained Luxurious Limoncello desserts, beef slices, tomatoes, Bartlett potatoes, soft Flora spread, and bleach. Then, I tackled the 
third one of the boxes.
pain. 
The driver put the goods into boxes and bags for me. He had to shoot off; he was miles behind with his schedule of deliveries. Poor chap. He left the boxes in the hallway for me. And I sorted them out in the kitchenette – with a definite 
feeling of de-ja-vu! Marmite cheese, beef slices, lemon fool, and lemon curd desserts are on view. Three ready-made meals, Cumberland pie, Shepherds pie and a Lamb Hot Pot. A BBQ pork pie, a reasonable price that, a third off the regular price! Lamb pattie, and half-price imitation chicken, 
cooked chicken pieces. 
I had already used Ccleaner twice and dared not use it again when a Memory-Shortage warning appeared on the screen. This depressed me more than it had before, and I 
gave up on the computer and made a meal. I took a terrible photo of it. Nice though!
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Jolly Good Day to you all!
If I remember, I’ll add some used-before graphics to fill in the blog a bit. To make things even worse, I could not find the notepad with the reminder scribbling on it! I’ve searched through the bins, drawers, pockets, and cupboards without any success
Photo One that survived the CorelDraw Attack (Crash)
murdering of my photo gallery.
I found them all within 10 seconds! 
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This morning, I could not find this photo from yesterday; I thought it had gone AWOL into the ether. But here it is. Baffles me, but that’s not unusual.
Morning view. Later than usual, of course. I was still in bed when Carer Chris arrived.
I know where it went. Hehe!
Got the computer on, and went into a Mind-Blank stroke 
. I was already miles behind on the blog as it was, and now I had lost over an hour.
The day bag had filled quickly again.
I went to the kitchen to get some potatoes in the slow cooker and took these two shots of the view.
I tried to get the Asda (Walmart) bag and label in the shot. They were called Asda Extra Special. Likely Special because some of them were in an especially terrible condition. See above! But, they did give me a moment of pareidoliaing, and I spotted features of a face and bald head on the skin of the spud. Can you see the lips, eyes and an ear in the picture?
Still, it comes!
Got the nibble box topped up.
Pork pies, beef pasties, Mediterranean vegetables, Eurgh-flavourless Moroccan tomatoes,& baguettes.
Turning a little lighter at last as the afternoon went on. Wonderful clouds.
Got the dressing gown to change into later.
This great shot was taken to the left of the kitchenette window.
This one is to the right.
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I tried to take a photo in the reflection of the balcony glass of me waving at you.
Morning view.
My one and only mug of Glengettie of the day! Of course, I let it get cold…Â Tsk!
Filling up quick again, dark shade.
Mystery photo taken?
I put the TV on and became more confused about what I was doing. Left it on for hours. Forgot it was on!
Again.
I heard the tune playing for ‘Keeping Up Appearances’ on the TV and watched the episode.
Carer Christopher arrived, and I mentioned that the laundry had not been returned. He gave me the medications and shot down to fetch them for me. Bless him. 
Still too dark, I must start guzzling the water again.
I’d not turned on the oven!
, 
, 
, and 
. With the possibility of 
bleeding, 
, or 
joining in the feast of pain and discomfort. 
, along with 
whether or not I remember all this on Wednesday morning. So, I suppose that 
will have to play his part in the proceedings, too. 
, and hobbled semi-hastily 
You can almost see the heat in this shot.
I salvaged the porcelain bowl from the vice-like grip of the artistic-looking, smelly mess. (I should have sent the photo to the Tate Gallery?) I left it in the sink bowl in hot water, bleach, baking soda and washing-up liquid to soak overnight. I’ll inspect things in the morning.