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I just had to copy this one!
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It’s so important to hang on to hope,
I thought of this today when I awoke,
Without him, life is all upslope,
You should keep him on a tightrope,
Have you ever caught a single raindrop?
Shouted for help from the rooftop?
Lost your thoughts while taking a troke?
Caught flu, COVID, shingles or croup?
Did you have a heart op or a cystoscope?
Been shot, imprisoned or had amblyope?
Are you deaf, neurotic or have deuteranope?
A catheter fitted? Had an oesophagoscope?
Your feet & ankles turned a deep heliotrope?
Is it different every single time you poop?
Does Peripheral Neuropathy make you quoke?
If something goes right, do you glope?
Do you stutter or make the odd malaprop?
Do all others consider you a fruitloop?
To counter these things, you need hope,
You must attain it, try mentally to evoke,
Hope? I’ve never met the bloke!
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A cold health alert has been issued for the East Midlands, warning them that an upcoming cold spell could affect vulnerable people and cause a rise in pensioner deaths.
No doubt Pensioner-killer Starmer will be tickle-pinkÂ
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It seems I’ll have to get used to every night’s sleep being broken, and the abysmal lack of rest and peace will undoubtedly see me off earlier than I expected visiting St Peter. What with our beloved PM, who robbed me of my Cold Weather Allowance? And the caregivers forgot to put my diabetic socks on again. Brrr!
Still, it’ll unquestionably please the living-ready reckoner beyond the reach of any moderator, who’s a hot shot at jiggling truth and data... I mean, of course, the conspiratorial, surreptitious, duplicitous Herr Heil Starmer! Sorry about that, I got a smidgeon carried away there.
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
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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?”
I am so frustrated and angry!Â
After being free of them for so long, I’d worked on this blog for nine hours off and on when the Seizures started.
I was so close to finishing it when they came. I felt things were getting more manageable and more transparent, and I expected to find some errors as I seemed to have been doing it for hours while under the influence. After coming around, what I saw made me so irate and self-condemnatory! I am still stewing inside and not in a suitable mode or mood to do much! I am feeling frustrated and depressed! I could almost cry now, my temper had calmed down. Hello, it’s returning with a vengeance…
I scrolled to see what cock-ups I’d made…
And somehow or other, I found I’d published the blog.
But even worse, I must have put it in the WP bin!
Then I discovered that over 2 thirds of the work I’d done was no longer on the editor when I retrieved it.
All those hours of concentration amidst seizures – Gone!
It’s late and dark now. But I shall try to put some more on, but there’s no heart in it. All that work! Of course, to save space in my memory, I deleted some photographs saving space.
My self-anger is building up again as I type.
The sky is red, and I had to force myself to get up to take a photo; that’s not me, this isn’t me.Â
Have I died? and am having a final nightmare?Â
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.
I’m going to have to think about this. What to do?
Well, I’ve ‘thunk’.
I’ll not have time to reproduce the same quality as the old blog. I’ll probably never again produce one with the same wit and hilarity as the original. This makes it so much harder to cope with; it was a rare cracking blog. And I was so happy with it.
What the hell went wrong? I’ll not even try to get it as good… well, I can’t now in this mood, and there’s no time to try anyway. Depression is far too weak a word for how I feel at this precise moment in time. I’ll use my few notes and photos, but as I said, there is no heart in it after what I call the ‘Sodding-seizure-to-blame’ disaster. It’ll likely all be out of sync chronologically. I can’t remember the whats, whens and whys now – And I’m not all that bothered either. It could be messy.
I’ll do my bestest, but it’ll not be good.
Starting the second try…
Waste bags sorted.
Carer Richard, Carer Chloe. The last two were Carer Promise.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Bloody and nearly 8500ml worth!
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Cobblers.
I just looked on CorelDraw, and I think a few original photos were on the page—I’m sure they were—but not a Bloody one!
What the hell had I been doing?
Say no more…
No record to use for two more hours.
The night shots I had to force myself to take.

Carer Promise came. In a rush, but he did listen to my moaning about myself and the computer cock-ups. Thanks, Promise.
Worries about what I wrote on the first blog…
It took me such a long time to select the wording, but I have no time now, so this will be, in short – a shame. I even smiled at the original moans when I wrote it.
Current concerns;
Getting the hearing aids mended.
I have to book an appointment. The Caregiver said they don’t, so it’s up to me to do it. So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone and get an appointment…
Then I have to ring Easy-Link to book a lift to and from the audio centre… So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone
If they can’t fit me in…
I have to call the audio centre to cancel the appointment and get another one made. That would be great if I could miraculously hear whoever was on the phone.
Then, I’ll have to call Easy-Link again to see if they can get it for me that day—if I can miraculously hear them on the phone. Huh!
It’s a Circus – round & round I go… getting anywhere? No!
Six weeks now, I’ve still not got my hearing aids mended!
Another problem is that the nocturnal catheter pouches are not arriving. Richard told me I had to phone the District nurses.
If I can miraculously hear them on the phone.
An unexpected box arrived last week. Thanks to Dementia Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I thought the box contained the night bags.
I got down to the last night’s pouch.
Ended up spending a small fortune getting some pouches from eBay and Amazon. Luckily, Amazon arrived on Monday; eBay should arrive on Tuesday. The ones I have now do not have any release valve on them, but they were two-thirds the cost of the EBay ones.
Carer Kara used to manage all these things for me; she was a blessing, not in disguise.
I had written three more problems, I think, on the first blog, but I can’t remember what they were at the moment.
Nosh!
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.
What you give is often what you get – despite not knowing precisely what it is, I must be guilty of it with my luck. Did you know I did the lottery for a couple of years, my neighbour, Jock, won 18 times in 1978. I never won a sausage. So, the sins I committed must have occurred before then.
I lost the plot again there, sorry.
I still enjoyed this mini feast.
Last of the sunset!
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Fings Ain’t Wot Vey Used To Be! Hehe!
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Yet another nodding off and waking up again every few minutes of the night.
On my way to the wet room, I went into the kitchen to check that the faucet doors and cooker had been left safely.
I got the bath towel from the airer, turned it off, ensured there was enough medical stuff to use, and started the proceedings.
hink I used a full roll of toilet paper and tissues to clean myself up after
Inchy’s pain. I was baffled! There were only a few specks of blood from the Fungal Lesion, far less than usual in the morning, yet while I was in the shower, no pain at all? I found out later that it came on mostly when I was seated throughout the day. I didn’t want to stop the showering; I enjoyed it so much. Little Inchy was not enjoying it. Because my taking off the bag cover pouch to have the shower meant, as I exited, the bag was swinging and pulling on Little Inchy. But I think I’d done well all the same in this session… Then, after drying myself off with the bath towel under the wall heater, I needed to get the medicationings done… Oh, dearie me!
For years, I’ve left medicating the most painful, the lesion, until last – today, I started with that task. A few Oohs and the drop Arghs were expounded,
with the odd Ouch thrown in. Perfectly normal!
Then, the not-cheap Blepha eye treatments were done. Thank heavens that the NHS has not stopped funding the cost of the
Phorpain Gel for the knees, Arthur Itis, and Duloxetine Cartilages Carole & Chloe, and for Colin Cramps.
Finally, the ablutions were completed. It was a long, long session. After belatedly changing the date and day, I took this picture of the antiquated 1970s clock.
Jiminnee Cricket, the fog was even thicker now. Took this snap.Â
Good Heavens, it worked! I hastily uploaded the photos to the gallery, but I fear I may have put them in the wrong order, so they may be from different times. Sorry.
The Iceland delivery arrived.
At long last, there is food in the fridge. I felt guilty when Carer Chloe found all the food out of date the other day. Was it yesterday? Who knows, not me. Hehehe!
The three bags of frozen food to the right in the photo on the left cost me just a pound! They were battered fishcakes, battered fish, and battered potatoes. Lovely!
The fridge looked a little fuller now, and while putting things away, I decided to have lamburgers in wholemeal bread rolls, maybe with some tomatoes and potatoes, as well. Or Marmite rice cakes—I might like that.
I managed to get these snaps in here in the morning. Just before CorelDraw crashed again! Fed up? YES!
I thought I’d remember from which of the different views I’d taken these from, but CorelDraw kept refusing to allow me to save the odd one and I go confused as to which
was which.
us. Hehe!
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I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter contraption.Â
leg and all over the new nightshirt.Â
innards. I was wrong, of course.
As I went to the kitchen, I took a shot of the morning view. Then, I spotted a red light on one of the streets. So I zoomed Kodak 2 into it and took this effort on the left. I cleaned and nearly almost tidied up the kitchenette, and the car with its lights on was still there. See the streets in Nottingham, my American friends? Talk about narrow. Pavement parking is the only option for anyone with two cars.
Thanks to Jenny’s tip in getting a baby monitor andÂ
of them again! It was the Asda delivery. Possibly the worst one ever. It’s not the driver’s
and junk room.
various places as needed.
1×6, and 4 Asda Bi-carb! I was pretty pissed off at being charged for these.



I’m afraid I missed getting full pleasure from these shots.
I’m back…Â
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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, IÂ
had a couple of Accifauxpas en route. Â
.
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.

Popped the bags in the doorway for me.
Topped up with drinkies to keep the bladder and catheter happy.
And some treats for myself.

I took this shot of the sunset from the kitchen window. ThenÂ
I didn’t!
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bleeding nose, and Little Inchy bleeding from the tube during the kerfuffle. So, I got the Catheter emptied and decided
to medicate things and do my ablutions. No outright winner twit Trotsky and Constipation Conrad, TT had an advantage over Love-15. Hehe!
Washed myself all over, well, where I could reach. Barrier creamed the stomach and around Little Inchy. Then Germoloided the sore Haemorrhoids of Harold. Germolened the lip and set about shaving, being careful not to catch the cut on the lip with the
razor, successfully. But did cut my earhole a bit.
A sudden bout of stomach-churning and rumbling sent me back to the
or rather, the white part of the eye was no longer white.Â
sent me some pictures on his mobile phone and emailed them to me.
that so annoy me.
only had the middle strip available to see the page to work on.
Germolene on it this time. That should do it.
I got the meal thought over, planned, and partly prepared at a ridiculously early hour. I can’t remember when mid-afternoon, I think
The blotches were covered by the colouration in this teatime shot of the wonderful sky with beautiful, eerie clouds, I was almost talking to them.Â
Well, well well, a record for this year to date, it was back to the Porcelain Throne yet again
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Got the pots washed.
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Still too dark, Hey-Ho!
I didn’t do a good job with my shot of the morning view. It looked right till I uploaded it. Tsk!
He started off last night.
I lost hours when this screen came up on the computer. I may have pressed something unintentionally, a combination? I’m always catching the Conrol, Windows or Alt button without sensing it.
Amazing sky again, well, the clouds.
How did you do?
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clouting of my head on the power box today.
Onwards to the photos.
The wet room farce was over. It looked good after three hours of mayhem and cleaning it up again… and again, and finally, once again this morning.
This is the first 
The day pouch was filling up swiftly today.
My first mug of Glengettie tea of the day.
The postman dropped my Anticoagulation results DVT, INR, and through the letter box. An increase in dosages. It’s a smidge low.
The most amazing cloud formation this evening.
The second mug of Glengettie was enjoyed while I was blogging away merrily. The authenticity of the last bit is dubious.


Better get the nosh prepared… it’s nearly midnight. 
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04:30hrs: I bounded lively out of the second-hand ex-hospital bed, yodelling with joy, got down, and did 100 press-ups. This was followed by 100 toe touches and some shadow-boxing for around 15 minutes or so… 
I made up the waste bags into one. And realised that I was still carrying the night pouch around with me. What an absolute plonker!
king into the doorframe, so kept my good eye on the spacing, clever that I thought…
The wee-wee is not coming so fast today. And I’ve been trying to drink more after the farcical, ridiculous, losing battle I had in the wet room. Humph!
Carer Kara came. Usual visit and Domestic today. I was so glad at last to get some help.Â
calls.
I got some potato cubes from the freezer and got them sorted out, getting rid of those I could that had the dreaded eye roots in them. These were Sainsbury’s, too, not Asda (Walmart). They probably get them from the same place.Â
A late afternoon shot taken at great risk of knocking over the knife block (I’ve nowhere safer to put it) or catching my finger closing the window. Haha!




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Passed well, not a bad colour.
Kitchen view.
This is getting bad now. This time, as I was trying to get a decent shot, a
I made a brew of Glengettie and got the computer on to work on this blog. A new Caregiver arrived and Medicated me, put the diabetic soaks on for me, and had a little natter. What about escapes me now. Tsk!
What amazing views.
Gorgeous.
Oh, how I’d love to recall the pleasure of taking them.
I do recall taking these.

Best nosh in a long time.
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Much too dark!

Made a mug of Glengettie.
Iceland delivery arrived.
Not a lot. Because Iceland had three items unavailable, this brought down my total cost to just below the minimum charge that is required for me to get a free delivery. The swines charged me nothing for delivery… but a £4 for a small order charge!
Humph!
Blimey filled up again!
Front car park at the flats.
Delivery. Toilet brush in a square box
Needing assembly.
I got this photo from the web.