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I’m aware that my rhymes, each & all,
Make me a Poetaster, if not a McGonagall,
My brain works, But I struggle to recall,
Events a minute ago, not recoverable,
But not things archaic, retrogressional,
1950, my chips were stolen by a seagull!
1953, getting thrown into Nottingham Canal,
The longer the memory, the more salvageable,
My humour can be dry and satirical…
Not skilful, clever, spiteful or sinful,
Aiming to make them laughable,
Lately, I’ve been naughtily overcritical,
Aimed at a man without principle…
You may agree that he’s objectionable,
Backhander-taking, greedy Starmer…
Who lied to get to be our Prime Minister,
His actions have been nothing but sinister,
His ministers say nothing, each a yeasayer,
Each one is a goffer, a doormat, a kowtower,
Even Labour voters begin to wither…
But why should I bother?
Humankind is doomed, whensoever, whatsoever,
I’ve been a Starmer-hating vilifier,
Hating him became obsessional,
Keir does his best, but he’s not professional,
Refuses to go to the confessional,
His promises, pledges, reversible,
Too clever to be pigeonholeable,
No accusations, prosecutions, I feel…
Existence will turn omnicorporeal,
A Labour government that’s oligarchal,
Common sense, compassion, gone occidental,
My Keir-bashing odes were not nonsensical
But my hopes for him are untenable…
And I thought he was so guillotineable!.
But, no, it was me being gullible!
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I anticipated today might be busy and Carer Joe would not be calling; he’s on holiday. But I did get help from Carer Ejaz, who made all the calls today.
The morning, spent struggling with the computer playing up, a few seizures, with Anne Gyna visiting on and off, was a good start because the depression didn’t get a look-in. Come midday, it got a bit busier. So much so that notes were not taken. I got confused with so much going on, but I seemed to take it all relatively unbothered. I accepted the pandemonium because I could do nothing to slow down or cope with them. This is true; It is now 23:15hrs. And I’ve only just ten minutes ago, made a start on this blog. I did get yesterday’s updated, and posted earlier in the day, though. Chalk and cheese.
At least we—Carer Ejaz and me—got some photos taken. I think I’ve got them in order… or close to. A late problem with CorelDraw cost me an extra hour, and the Ode writing was not as easy as usual. Concentration tiredness time came as using the dual late afternoon. The new Blood count & oxygen machine was used. I think I was using it right, but I may not have been. It kept flashing low on every occasion that I used it this week. A shame that the DVT Warfarin INR Nurse Hristina did not call. She could have guided me.
I’ll try to recall the unwritten things on the pad. Early morning is well documented, so I can bore you first. Hahaha!
Morning view from the kitchen.
Got the laundry bag filled and ready for Ejaz.
First visit to the wet room.
Made up the waste bags to go to the chute.
I burnt an oven tray last night and tried to salvage it, but it was impossible. I’ll have to stop burning my food. Twice yesterday! Tsk!
Had a brew of Co-op 99 tea and enjoyed it. Took the mug to wash… 
Found I’d left the hot water tap running and the freezer door open, and water (melting food) had spilt out onto the floor…
2nd visit. Messy again!
Salvation arrived in the form of Carer Ejaz. His first task was cleaning the kitchen floor for me. Bless him.
Then he took the laundry bag and put it into the washer for me.
While he was down there, I could not go in the kitchen until the floor dried, so instead of fetching an ice cream cone—it would probably have been too soft anyway—I raided my pot of cashew and pistachio nuts. A bad decision, that! 
I broke yet another tooth.
When Ejaz got back up and started hoovering, I showed him the half-tooth. He took a photo of my short-on-teeth mush for me.
Hehehe!
Then, two people from the Care Company arrived. They left a swipe fob and got me to sign an agreement to fit it. I think monitoring to ensure the carers don’t stay too long is the angle. They have to swipe in and out—a Carer tracker of sorts.
Ejaz went down to put the laundry in the dryer. We still have only one. Someone told Ejaz it should be repaired within three weeks.
The lad then had a go at the oven for me.
I took my meal of the day from the not-freezing freezer. I’ll have it soon; I’m feeling peckish.
On Ejaz’s next call, he took off my diabetic socks for me and rubbed some barrier cream on the ankles and legs. They looked better than yesterday, but the new growths climbing up the right leg were more painful when he took the sock off—tender, I think the word is—more than sore.
I worked on the Ode for a long time. The seizures had eased of a lot but 
had returned. She’s still with me five hours later as I type this. But I’ll not complain; she’s been a lot worse; I can cope with moving stabs, which were less sharp than they usually are. But they stayed longer.
When Ejaz arrived, I was making the microwave meal and a pot of instant potatoes with added Leicester cheese. Time-wise, I’d lost the plot.
I got it served up so Ejaz could put the nocturnal pouch on, as I’ll not be moving anywhere now. Just grafting away on this blog. (20:15hrs)
I’ll be trying these again from Iceland.
Tasty! On a Special offer at two for £4, too!
I sat with a drawer open, put the tray in it, and ate it while watching Heartbeat on the TV.
Which didn’t work out well cause I was also still working again on the blog’s Ode!
ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Primo Ballerina, & Warden Deana popped in as passing to see how things are going. Naturally, she hadn’t time for me to explain how things were going. Hehe!
The weariness and tiredness hit me more late than usual, but I still had much to do. I pressed on because I wanted to see the WP Reader and view and answer any WordPress comments.
Well, it’s early morning now.
Sleep sounds good to me. Hehehe!
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Cheerio, Mon Amis!
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kicked off for the first time since last Saturday. I nodded off to sleep in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, even with 
I felt guilty about the misunderstanding.
. 
Little Inchy, now leaning to the left, was agony!
controlled evacuation to begin.
from 
. I emptied the pouch into a jug for the Carer to evaluate. Then, I tackled moving the tubing and straps on the catheter in the vain hope of easing the pain. I decided to get the 
. 
Little Inchies Lesion, 
Carer Ejaz came in. Well, after I’d unlocked the door, I forgot to do it with the ablutions and Meds performance. A good-looking lad, he was getting some medications out of the prescription drawer in the kitchen.
Delicious!
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Carer Ejaz treated the catheter contraption 
wounds and bruises.
Kitchen view.
Sweetcorn fritters were put in the oven.
Two hours later, I took the burnt food from the stove and threw it away. 
A microwave meal is sorted.
my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. 
.
check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
lanet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.
Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. 
Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to 
help when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment 
. Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem! 
and 
.
I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
,
were regular, and the 
were more active than ever
I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
Think I missed these snaps of the red moon last night. It’s a reasonable effort for me.
Well pleased with this one!
, 
The sun went in.
I ate it in an artistic fashion. Spilling some of it on my chest, legs, dressing gown and kaghoule.
Nice!
, 
, and 
& 
At one stage, I just had to get and use the toothache spray from the computer desk. I stubbed my toe 
against the Ottoman as I moved back to the hospital bed! But I think I was soon back in the land of nod again after 
each visit—not for long, of course. The next ailment soon arrived to join in the nocturnal ‘Let’s-Bugger’ Inchy’s sleep-up routine. I think that had it not been for the damned seizures leaving me so done in, I could have coped with the lack of sleep, instead of getting annoyed and sorry for myself, which no doubt helped bring on the 
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raised to the maximum.
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with a visit to the 
.
I was back in control. But once the chunks started evacuating, it took a while for them to stop clunking into the water below. 
A stand-up wash. I didn’t have time to shower in case either the nurses or the Iceland delivery came earlier. I strip washed, soaking the feet as I shaved and did the teggies, then moved on to the self-medicating of my problematic areas. Argh! 
the eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees and cartilages, and ointmentated each Acne and eczema area. As usual, I left the most painful bit to the end.
pulled the skin back, and squeezed the ointment in a drop. That was bad enough, but I had to massage it from the outside each time. Self-imposed agony! But it was nothing to a man of my calibre, heroism and upper pain limit. I may even have been singing to myself as I massaged it in.
delivery came.
Seven carrier bags worth.
I got the fresh stuff away.
Topped up the nurses & carers shelf with the new Pepsi flavours that came.
A well-overfilled filled top cupboard.
The danger of falling through the floor into the flat below the cupboard of cans of food. I shouldn’t starve to death for a month or two! Hehe!
It was my treasured Hristina, the DVT Warfarin Blood Nurse
I then had to store these tinned meals on the floor!
Not as good as yesterdays’
I made too much. But ate ¾ of it.
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Hand Washing.
I’m fed up with this!
Ankles, lower legs much clearer today.
Afternoon kitchen shot.
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again. I’d run out of the cortisone cream. 
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 
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!
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 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!
>>>>><<<<<
was with me. No questioning the facts. That 
.
This first photo saved alright, but I lost several others.
Two hours later.
Another half-hour.
After sunset shot. Nice!
I’m unsure when or why I took this one. The bladder waters. It is possible that it is an older photo that was missed or that it was used earlier.
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First one.
My beloved tree copse.
Cavendish Vale
CorelDraw problems again.
This might be out of sync timewise?
Green skies, as well.
After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using the 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, in hopes of nodding off.
and 
, or either of the Cartilages. 
!