Tag: Receptive Aphasia Phyllis

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THURSDAY 23 JULY 2026
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FRIDAY 24 JULY 2026
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Apart from when I woke up midst having my stroke, this was the worst, foggiest, most out-of-it one!
I had just had a seizure as the Carer arrived. I was practically unresponsive, I think, and went into, I believe, two other seizures while the Carer was giving me medications. I assumed this by finding the tablets spewed out in the waste bin later.
I thought he was still here, and called to him, albeit in a garbled way; confusion reigned. He had gone.
I’d not had the back, neck, shoulder or knees Phorpained-gelled. The day protection pants had not been put on. The slippers not put on. I found the night pouch on the floor, so that had not been emptied, just taken off. However, the colour and quantity had been put on the notepad?
To be fair, the Carer must have been almost as confused as I was. I thought he may have pressed the alarm to NCC Control for help. But none came.
I was being so vague for his entire half-hour visit. This is not a definitive description, but the best record I could muster. I’m still not with it properly two hours after waking up. I can’t recall having short repeat seizures as often as this before.
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Talk about falling to sleep unexpectedly!
I visited the Porcelain Throne, a Constipation Conrad affair. So painful trying to force it along. Yet somehow or other, I managed to fall asleep! And, for about fifteen minutes! Waking up, with no progress in the evacuation stakes. No acidity tastes, so it wasn’t a seizure. I gave up trying. I then made a bottle of water from the fridge, flavoured it a little with grapefruit, and made a start on this blog.
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I’m not clearing the brain fog very well, and wondered how the Carer has disappeared without me knowing he’d gone. He must have been baffled himself, to have missed all the treatments. Mind you, would I have been capable of getting the togs off for the treatments? Mmm!
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Moved on to try and get the daily Ode done.
Concentration was at a minimum. But I pressed on, and got it finished and ready to be converted to JPEG, then snipped into MS Word.
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Carer ‘Leave-it-there’ Andrew arrived on the midday call.
Do you like his nickname? I’ll explain: each time he does some medicationalisationing, he leaves the pot, Germoloid or Germaline tubes. Feet & legs foam spray, Phorpain tube when he does the shoulders, back, knees and neck where he put them on. Then we have a job to find them next time he calls. He also has a habit of leaving the waste bags where they are. I started putting the three into the large kitchen one on the kitchen door, but he just ignored that one altogether. Then I moved it each morning into the front room; he’s bound to see it and take it from there? No, he leaves it where it is, like he did this morning. Hence, Carer ‘Leave-it-there’ Andrew.
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Hallo! Movements from the innards, I think things are moving. Then I moved in the direction of the wet room, got in, got settled, and realised this was going to be a long, painful and bloody battle urging on the what felt like concrete into an evacational position. Still, apart from the blood, little cleaning was needed.
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Went into a depression. Still in it today, Sunday.
Sorry, but no one to talk to about it.
Frustrated, the world goes on, but not I.
This is a terrible thing, not socialising.
Carers who just don’t realise my problems.
My differing responses to changes in pain, and head confusions changing daily. I find myself being jealous of folk who can cope, feeling sure they…
I hope to pull out-of-it.

Cheers. 🤎🫰🏻 
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INCHIE: MON/TUES 6/7 JULY 2026
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MONDAY
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Needless to say, I stayed up all night to watch Mexico v England in the early hours of the World Cup.
A Magnificent Performance
Just Thought I’d Mention It!
I soon fell asleep, happily and contentedly, and woke up an hour later with a warm, proud sensation within.
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And struggle to free myself from the clutches of the second-hand shop-bought ten years ago, £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, virus-breeding, acne-prompting, rickety, crumb-containing, TV-remote-hiding, non-working recliner off to the Porcelain Throne. This evacuation was all over within, at most, about 30 seconds. Whoosh!
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Got the computer on, then the Carer arrived, as I was struggling with the MS Snip doing odd things as I was trying to convert the Ode to a picture. He clicked on a red spot on top of the panel, and the mistakenly taken video disappeared. Thanked him. Medications issued. Phorpain gelling was asked for and done on the shoulder and back.
No breakfast, tea, or help with washing was offered to me. I asked him to take the bin bag down with him. He decided not to listen to my questions about my appointment problems. In fact, I took a photo of the chair, which he had turned away from me, after he had gone.
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I pressed on with the Sunday blog update, finished it, and posted it to WordPress.
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I limpingly hobbled to the kitchen to put the kettle on.
Not a hard job? It was for Inchie! His poor old left knee gave way, and he fell forwards, landing on the radiator and window ledge. Knocking a large jar of Tiryaki sauce over the floor, which shattered, spreading the contents around. My first thought was to call for help. But I was not up to much this morning and got irritable with myself for being the whimp I am. Pleased to have found the brush and dustpan last Saturday, I went to the wet room to collect them. But they were not in there. Back to the kitchen to search, without any luck. In the front room and balcony, again fruitlessly. The unused rubbish room, no luck. Back to the kitchen. Which incidentally stunk of Tiryaki by now, nice Aroma though. I looked in all the places I thought it was possible to have put the brush & dustpan, getting annoyed a smidge with myself now. Back in the wet room, while looking, I set up the speedmop for later. Finally, on the verge of giving up finding them, I closed the open door in case any sauce had intruded… There were the brush & dustpan! Once I saw them, I remembered putting them there. Tsk!
I forgot, I put a full roll of kitchen towels over the glass and food first. Now, I added some more to it. I used the picker-upperer to collect them and rubbed the floor a bit. A last with more paper towels, a spray of cleaner, and got them up again.
Then, I used the mop, all done without any bending. An iota of smugness crept into my psyche. I was so cuffed, I rang Jenny to tell her. (Daft as a brush, me!)
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I forgot to ask the Carer to put my slippers on my feet. Standing up, I felt a sting underfoot. I got the piece of glass out with the small picker-upperer, thus again avoiding any loss of balance from bending. Checked the scullery floor. It looked clean enough to me. Turning to leave, I knocked a box of soap powder off of the draining board, then I wondered where I’d left the brush and dustpan!
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I rang Mr Cervic – 0115 746 9309
To inform him of payback has not been received in the bank yet. Also, it is worth mentioning that the long calls from ICC have gradually stopped; until last week, they made none at all.
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Matron JACKIE ARRIVED
We spoke of my going into a home. Unfortunately, I’d just come out of a seizure when she arrived; I stuttered and forgot words, not certain of all we spoke of. But I sense I was telling her of all the visits and the failure to secure lifts for appointments. Showed her the letters mounting up that need guidance and form filling. Those are not being done since Carer Mizra & Ejaz stopped calling.
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DOCTORS SURGERY RANG
New Warfarin INR dosages.
M:1-TWThur:1½-F:1-ST-SUN;1½
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I’m running down now.
I found the Catheter tube on the night bag had sticky bits all the way through. I’m worried now!
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Going to get summat to eat, then watch TV.
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Mr Kervic didn’t ring back.
I’ve had enough now.
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The 3% turned out to be a false alarm.
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TUESDAY
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Reluctantly rose from the recliner at 07:00hrs, following hours of wakefulness, sort of praying for sleep. And fretting over the increasing number of unsolved problems, one after another. It was not will-power that got me up, but the need of the Porcelain Throne.
The evacuation was slow, but not in the least painful, and no bleeding. I removed the Catheter night pouch, and the Carer arrived.
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Being so concerned about getting an Escort and lift for tomorrow’s appointment, I asked him to please find out whether they are coming or not and let me know.
No response, other than a nod of the head. The lad then issued the medications. Pforpain gelled the shoulder and lower back. Got on his mobile to do his report. I disturbed him when the intercom rang, and the food order arrived.
I asked him to put the light stuff in the box and the heavier stuff in carrier bags. He had to go then. As he was leaving, I asked him again to confirm if a lift and a Carer were coming on Wednesday. Getting a nod in return, then a thumbs-up! I hope he can. Uncertainty, lack of communication, and doubts plague me.
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I got the bags emptied and food stored. But before continuing, I just have to say, in putting these things away, and I may have missed some off, for I forgot about, dropped so many of them. I got so angry with myself.
1) The pod pea bag, which was at the bottom of a carrier with cans on top, burst open when I grabbed it. Pod peas decorated the kitchenette floor. Collected and put in a basin, for shelling later.
2) Then, getting the few things that needed to go into the fridge, I dropped and trod on Jenny & Frank’s cream cakes. Arrrgh! Ruined and needed cleaning up.
3) Then knocked a bottle of spring water, which luckily… yes, luckily, did not burst open… 4) It just landed on my left foot! I just laughed it off. (Possible Fib Detected!)
5) The pot of potato salad was the next victim; this one did burst all over me, the shelf and the floor. It took me ages and a lot of self-lambasting to clean up.
6) The pork & pickle pork pies, which had obviously had a rough trip to get to the flat, and/or the Carer had also put at the bottom of a carrier, were all dislodged from their container compartments. I tried to jiggle them back in, and the top pastry fell off each one I touched.
I got the cleaning up sorted… dropping a few curse words I haven’t used in years. I got some spuds in the slow cooker and started to pod the peas.
7) My estimate for dropped peas and pods would be around 25. I’m getting so many more incidents lately; I must mention this if I do get to the Doctor’s appointment tomorrow. 
8) As I was retrieving them with the picker-upperer, I noticed the carrier was still on the floor; I had not put the things in the freezer yet, so I did. Not sure what happened when taking this snap on the left, I think and expect the camera to pack up again soon. I put the bread and cobs in, and this lot filled the fridge altogether. In fact, I had to take some old stuff out to make room. A large bag of out-of-date chips that had been in there since Adam was born had to go. But and however… The bag burst when I lost my grip again, when it hit the floor.  
9) This was a little more dangerous. As I got the paper towels again, some oil, presumably from the old chips, all but had me over as I slipped on the invisible oil. What did I hit as I grabbed for the counter? The poor left arthritic and fractured left knee!
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What with these dropsies, uncertainty about lifts and escorts to the five medical appointments I have on my calendar, and the farce with British Gas about the metre (they are really confusing me now; I need help), I hope the Social can assist me ASAP. It’s getting worse than ever as the list of unsolved problems grows each day. Dentist, lifts not forthcoming, uncertainty.
I really am getting in a big pickle. The eyes, hearing, brain (memory, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment), body, lack of confidence, nervousness, suspicious, dubious of ever being content again; or that the problems will ever get solved, the new One Stop Computer Shop bought computer will ever work right. I was warned about my memory and Peripheral Neuropathy getting worse. They have not been too good, but for the past two weeks, the degeneration has increased a fair bit. At least I am aware of the reasons. I anticipate things getting worse, and I will lose more cogniscence of mt surroundings. Luckily, I am old enough to not live long enough to suffer the full consequences. Hopefully.
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I went into the kitchen to take a better photo of the freezer, and took one of the fridge by mistake. Then as I moved to take one of the freezer again…

As I bent a little to get the right angle for the picture, my spectacles fell off.
They now have sellotape holding the left arm attached to the frame. Huh!
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When the midday Carer arrived, I was just making my first brew of tea, Glengettie for a day and a half. Honestly!
I managed one sup of it, and the Carer told me there is no lift arranged, and to get a taxi to the Doctor’s. Whether a Carer will be coming with me is uncertain. This is life for me nowadays. Full of uncertainty. Inconclusiveness, instability, doubtfulness, scepticism, and dubiety, 
Rounded off with my getting all angst and I didn’t drink my Glengettie! More money spent!
If I wasn’t told off for not taking a Carer, I wouldn’t bother. And if I do, it will be a Carer who does not know my history and will not understand them anyway. I love it when they say I must bring a relation or Carer who can answer questions if I am too out-of-it. Fed-Up Again!
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I asked the Carer to take some food down to the laundry room. The last few pot noodles I dared not eat after trying them again and enjoying one; the innards were not too keen, and the next morning, I think it was about 5 Trotsky Terence trips to the Porcelain Throne. Unfortunately, I also sent a loaf of bread and some short-dated fridge items for anyone to take. 
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Then a DPD delivery arrived. So glad it won’t arrive tomorrow when I will be out at the Doctor’s. Bit of fun here, if you don’t mind, folks. What do you think the carton contained from the list below?
A: Snuff
B: Pipe tobacco
C: Cigars & Cigarettes,
D: Two bottles of Champagne?
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My two thin nightshirts are being used as curtains to help block the sun a little and keep it from making it so hot in there. I was going to move them along with the sun, but decided not to. With my luck, I’d risk knocking over another bottle or jar, pickle, sauce or vinegar.
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Going to get a meal prepped and eaten now.
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By gum, that was good!
Ate it all bar one slice of the tomatoes; I dropped that on the floor, via my hand, bulging flabby stomach, testicles & knee, onto the mat.
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Two testing days. Carer asked ot help in the morning visits. To phone to track an order, help me get washed, shaved and clothed. Ejaz and Mirzra would have known what was needed. This lad cannot answer questions from the Doctor like Mirza did, cause he’s not aware of any medical changes taking place. Then ask him to order a taxi for us to go to the Doctor’s. Must check that I have enough money with me before leaving and prepare the walker. Can’t cope with the walker and stick.
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Not sure if there will be a blog on Wednesday.
EQ tells me all will not go very well tomorrow.
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I see today more political baseness,
A lack of moral principles, sordidness,
Boastfulness, bluffness, & bluntness,
Bamboozlers, bankrollers, beguilers, belittlers,
More backstabbers, backhander, backsliders,
Churlishness, clandestineness, contemptuous,
Violence, slaughter, governmental bloodshedders,
 Deceptiveness, detestableness,
Can our rulers not see Earth’s finiteness?
In the citizenry, fear, contagious distress,
Hopes, needs, turning into illusoriness,
Proletariats, once. quite tenacious…
Exist, survive, but are trepidacious,
Who can we blame for this tragicalness?
My forecast may well not be the zaniest,
The end of days, of earthliness…
part of the real, inherent adscititious…
Earthlings will miss the end of the Universe…
As it implodes, collapses…
Well, that’s my synopsis!
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OLD CARTOONS
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Hope for the future…
To please, please I beg, mend my computer,
Help with the bank account dwindling disaster,
A miracle with my kidneys, & blocked Catheter…
Penal Fungal Cut, before they get painfuller,
To stop leaving the tap on & the cooker,
To stop taking tumbles, 
Slow down, to have fewer seizures,
These needs, how do I conjure?
I think life’s getting cruddier.
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On Tuesday, I can’t type in Notepad; it deletes letters after the ones I’m typing. CorelDraw is still not allowing me to import, export, or perform at least 18 other actions that are blacked out. The Computer warning beeps from the hard drive are back again. I’ve got the trots.

 TUESDAY: I am so frustrated. Can’t even open a new template. No reply from the calls and emails to the computer man for help. £850 quid plus fitting. He must be so busy. 

Hour extra visit: No body check, Catheter comfort check. No cleaning done. No mail help. No floors mopped, or food date checks. Bored on mobile. 

Frustrated, depressed, and have had enough!

This computer is the only thing that keeps me going. Now it doesn’t, though I believe it’s not my fault. Notebook, the internet, and the keyboard, I think, are all giving me problems typing. The internet keeps going down. No help.

Help is unavailable with the banking problems.

The promised help with getting the new wheelchair was promised in November last year. Bought six months ago, it had not been brought into a usable condition.

Oxicodone could be my way out?

Tried to ring 111 for mental help, I felt I needed it.
I rang 111, feeling I needed help, as I am having dark thoughts, and needed it.
The phone didn’t work. The Carer had knocked the 2nd unit off the hook while putting the Hoover away. I replaced it and rang 111. The very thought of going through the Robot options was making me feel worse. These are the reasons for my bank. Virgin and British Gas problems, which, along with the Computer ones and the Catheter ones, made me forget about it, and I rang off. I wish I’d stayed on now. Confused, fed-up, and no idea what to do.
Other than adopt my dark thoughts. If I don’t ring, I’ll get no help, but that leaves me where I started.

Fret not if I do get the courage, I’ll be depression, frustration and worry-free. I write this out of desperation, knowing I’m a coward and will surely suffer on longer.

Cheerio. Bless you all.