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My biggest current hated one is Starmer,
Prospective murderer of every pensioner…
Over-taxing every single farmer,
Our UK leader, food shortage creator,
Labour Party standards & morals abolisher,
Lady Starmer shops at Harrods, not Asda,
He’s started the UK exodus, the diaspora,
Couldn’t give a toss about the poorer,
I’d love to kick him in his detrusor!
He’s a deceitful and clever truth-denier
A freebooter, ever seeking a backhander,
An out-of-order denunciator,
His talks are klutzier, a send-to-sleeper!
Blaming others for his faults, a derogator,
He thinks he’s superior, an exemplar…
A political King, a Simon Templar,
Listening to him yak, installs longueur,
Starmer’s budget was a villain’s charter,
I believe he’s infected with Cherophobia…
Except when taking a political sweetener,
He’s no vivifier but often a vilifier!
Not a captivator, more a verbal chloroformer,
The best manipulative political by-omission liar!
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I woke up with the regulation jerk and jump. I got on the side of the hospital bed and tackled, freeing the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Kimberly told me it was 6 on the NHS Richter scale card. Then I looked at the clock, seeing it was only 0350 hrs. I pondered getting back into bed, but the innards started rumbling and grumbling at that 
moment.
So, I rose to hobble to the wet room, quite carefully at first, as 
she was a little delicate, and I feared she may give way in me. This thought was forgotten as soon as I’d thought of it! The rear-end motion began to move of its own accord!
. And I hobbled at my best attainable rate to the wet room… I didn’t make it in time. 
. I don’t need to go into any detail, do I?
20 minutes later, I cleaned up the mess, sprayed the room with air freshener and went out of the wet room door… 
I hit the door frame with my right shoulder as gave way. Perfect timing from Carole. 
Kicked off, naturally. But physically, I am used to this happening. Mentally, I get annoyed and angry, especially following the automatic-style evacuation.
Making it worse, I had to put on the bulky protection pants in case it happened again. Tchah!
To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. Why should this calm me down? I don’t understand, but many folks do the same.
I saw the snow through the kitchenette window. The photo did not c
ome out well. So I bravely went out onto the balcony to take more pictures of the state of the roads. Starting with the front car park. 
Then I opened the left end window to take this shot on the left of the car park further along Chestnut Way
Finally, through the right end window of the end car park. After trapping my finger and closing the window, I wondered how many 
I’d had until now. I think I’d only been up for an hour; what else is in store for me? Hehehe!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a fresh brew of Glengettie tea.
I took it to the main junk room and to the computer thingy.
Adjusted my relic of a clock calendar’s day and date. And a real rarity here… I dunked four of my favourite cookies in the tea without any of the biscuits getting dropped. 
Seconds later… , 
. I knocked the tea mug off the desk, dropping it into the waste bin. 
Surely this farce can’t go on any further? Still, getting them out of the way early in the day is best.
So, I cleaned it up and then collated the waste bins into one bag. And with no further calamities, mishaps, or
!
Kicked off within minutes of me getting on with the blog. Thankfully, they were short, but so many of them over the next four hours.
Carer Shaq arrived. He had an inkling that I was not right, although I don’t think I had any when he was here. I did tell him later about them, though. He sorted the medications and adorned me with diabetic socks. We had a natter, but what about is anyone’s guess.
I went back to blogging and continued. I felt I was working well, but of course I wasn’t. Each time I returned to mock-life, I checked what had been done while I was in La-La Land, finding errors every time. Thus, it took me far too long to get it done. But I got there eventually.
I stopped to take some more pictures of the weather-bashed view. This was of the bottom field below the tree copse. Some kids had gotten plastic sleighs out and were having fun. I got the Kodak out when I saw the kids, but they had gone by the time I returned to the window. (Is this Possibly an unnoticed seizure?)
No wonder I’m concerned about taking a bus and walking in traffic. Being housebound—well, flatbound—benefits someone in my condition. Haha!
I made another brew of tea, Co-op 99, this time. Since it looked like just past 2 p.m. on the clock, I resisted any biscuits.
I grafted on with this blog, but I’m not getting very far very quickly, even though the frequency has slightly decreased. Anyway, the things I noticed after the event were 
all short-term affairs, which suits me.
I made yet another brew, Glengettie, this time. But I left it to mash for a few minutes and forgot about it. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberley called. She kindly put some cream on my bleeding lips and nose. I had not noticed. It’s not unusual for the pain from cracked lips and gums or for 
other pains, but I didn’t realise how much they were bleeding. Bless Her ♥. The £599.00 /100 ml Toothache pain relief spray is so effective. Thankfully, I still have some in-store to use, and I use them.
Blimey, I saw the fog descending as I returned the mug to the kitchenette. There had been cold winds, a bit of rain, then snow, and the fog was coming on. Almost eyra looking.
As I write this, I just glanced at the balcony, and the fog is even thicker now. Mind you, I think I’m getting thicker—physically and mentally.
Hello, 
is having a go at me now. A persistent little Madam as well.
Long, well, massive periods of Mind-Blanks.
Scary that I did not know what had happened for hours.
I’ll see what fodder in the fridge and freezer can attract me to my earlier-than-usual desire for food.
The fish in batter appealed. But with frequent momentary visits from , I had the nonce not to risk fancy cooking. But I fancied these battered fish, so I risked cooking them in the mini-oven, making sure that I was doing nothing else so I could concentrate and not move from the kitchen all the time they were cooking, and I checked on them all the time. I was then aware of burn and fire risk limitations.
I ate all these without any bread—just some peas—and they were enjoyed immensely. I cleared and cleaned up. Then, I settled into 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, and turned on the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV.
I tried to put on the Oligarch’s Fibre rediculously exspensive full-of-repeats Virgin Media TV. But it would not let me. No Signal came up about 2000 times in response to pressing the button. So I gave up. I was getting weary of this.
Despite Dizzy Dennis, & Confusion Konrad, Tired-Out-Inchy won the battle and drifted off to sleep.
Carer Richard woke me up to make the last call of the day. I was in the right state! Mumbling and knowing I was doing so this time. I fear things did not go well. I’ve no idea why.
Richard departed, and I floated back into heavenly sleep.
Just a few moments of waking up, I blissfully returned to the land of nod each time.
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was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. My first task was removing the attached nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag.
.
The balance was, as usual for that time of day, dodgy. But I noticed that my 
my anatomy… is that the right word? Half an hour later, all was done. I avoided putting on
The pain from the Catheter tube can be worse when putting the Tena ones on. Usually, especially when Trotsky Terence is active, there is a chance that I’d be caught out later on with involuntary escapages. Even if no one knows, I’ve often felt so embarrassed in this situation. Writing this prompted
caused me to lose balance, and I tore the pants.
few clouds, and the winds had died down from yesterday. The outside temperature on the computer was showing Nottingham as 0.0ºc. Freezing?
sh started to bleed and run into my mouth and onto my chin? 
The handle was handy as a kitchen roll holder near the computer chair. Cunning!
I checked the cupboard for snacks. The micro rice stood out, so I decided that would do. I seasoned it with water, added basil and BBW flavouring, and boiled the water. Then, I grabbed the packet – 
Carer Chris issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on my legs and had a nibble and drinkie-poo. He” be back, he said. Haha! 
I took a forgotten afternoon view through the inner glass door of the balcony. Then, I continued
Returned, but they were back to the regular sort. Some of them lasting just a minute or thereabouts. I know where I am with these. Well…
The lovely blue hue was back tonight.
Milk Roll bread bacon with sliced tomato sarnies.
After eating and washing up, Carer Chris arrived, and I sat down to see if there was any football in the box. He came early and was in a rush, which suited me. 
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Not a lot, but very dark.
Food Delivery.
Morning sunshine.
Afternoon.
Afternoon.
Early sunset.
I totally lost about two hours. But I seemed to carry on with the blog, and when things cleared, I lost another hour sorting out the mistakes I’d made. It still puzzles me how this happens.
Med’s given a little natter and drinkie.
I was looking forward to these beef sausages.
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Waste bins sorted.
Reet rainin’ this mornin’.
Phor!
End car park mudslide.
No Carer arrived, which is the same as last night.
Topped up the Nurses’ and carers’ treat
I made a brew, then changed the clock calendar and got it on the computer to make a belated start on the blog.
I found two snaps that I took last night and forgot to put the SD card into the camera. Better late than never.
Kicked off.
Thankfully, I had some pain spray for the teeth.
Teatime views.
The legs looked better than yesterday.
A better shot of Devonshire Avenue.
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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.
I got the ablutions, a stand-up shave, teggies, body scrub, oiled the earholes, and drops in the eyes. Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Barrier Creamed the Acne & Eczema. Then Porpain Gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cartilage Carol & Chloe’s knees, the underbelly lesions & underarms. I couldn’t reach Phorpain Gel Back Pain Brenda; I 
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 
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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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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Occasionally joined in. This repeated until I resigned myself to surrendering and getting up. Marvellous, one tries to stay awake so as not to miss the footy, but that comes on, and I fall asleep. I miss the football, and then I can’t get back to sleep! Humph!
I was pleased with the colour of the urine this morning. Carer Chris gave it a Five from the NHS colour chart. Best morning shade for weeks.
I went into the kitchen to check the taps and saw the fog again. It was even thicker than it was yesterday. I could barely discern 
the lights. I assume there were some out there? I took a second shot of the view in a different photo mode. This time, I could make out some vague bits of green that must be trees?
I did the Blood Pressure on the Sphygmomanometer. It came out just inside the ‘Hyper range’; it was not high enough to cause me any concern.
I sorted all four of the waste bin bags into one. And took them to the front door. I am hoping a Carer will take them to the chute for me. I would have taken it, but with the kitchen thermometer only reading 40°F, it was just a smidgeon too cold to risk going out there yet. Haha! 
Although not as big or painful as yesterday’s monster passing, it was still enough to bring water to my eyes. Hehehe! One good thing about Constipation Conrad’s evacuation is that it leads to fewer premature escapages than Trotsky Terence’s.
At long last. I made a brew of 99 tea, got on the computer and changed the date on my almost historical clock calendar. 
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Carer Christopher arrived as I tried to sort things out and what to try or do about it. 
Fish balls in batter, pickled beetroot, onions, green tomatoes, carrots & home-pickled water chestnuts.
Being unsure of myself, I rechecked the templates. I took this shot through the balcony door, and only the fog was seeable. It felt dreary and cold. I checked the kitchen thermometer, and it was showing only 35.6°F. 
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0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. 
Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge.
I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.
Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!
After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated.
Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further!
So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.
I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
What An Amazing Session This Was!
Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one! 
. I ended up with 
, and the
newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled 
. I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off 
bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!
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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!)
talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. 
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.
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!
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 collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door. 
Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
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. 
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.
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.
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Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.
The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Got the waste bags sorted out.
Made a start on the blogging.
The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.
.
I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.
2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.