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I’m now frequently confused, flabbergastingly,
Doreen Dementia guarantees my fallibility,
Working things out, I have little flexibility,
Sometimes I wish I lived in a Friary,
But there are people there who confuse Inchy,
I have ailments, not a disability…
I admit to having physical & mental frailty,
And live with seizures, most of them mini,
Compared to my lifestyle, formerly…
I don’t mind saying, nowadays I worry,
No one to converse with socially,
Sometimes, I’ll wake up gratifyingly…
But, never satisfyingly,
At times, I find life adversarially,
I fret over things universally,
In seizures, thoughts go atmospherically,
My usual mode turns to abnormally,
In rare up modes, I press on blithefully,
Ever present are doubts & hamartithia,
I lack tranquillity, equanimity & ataraxy,
Existing in solitarily, unsociably, introvertedly,
At times, showing stoicism, fortitude, longanimity,
I’m not short of talkativeness or loquacity,
But that’s usually with my EQ or Little Inchie…
The Grim Reaper, God, but mostly, with me!
I can still have moments of near lucidity…
I need help with my feeling nugatory…
But where do I find a mirabiliary?
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Busy morning, getting things ready to go to the surgery.
I thought I’d done a decent job of getting everything ready. I was running a little later than I’d hoped, but I still thought I could make it as I locked the flat and walked to the Sherrington Park Medical Centre. Going down Winchester Street, about halfway, there were plenty of things to photograph. I went to get Kodak Tim from the three-wheeled walker trolly… I was livid when I realised that when I’d put new batteries in back at the flat, I must have put them down and forgotten to replace them in the bag. I recall a Carer coming in when I was replacing the batteries. It doesn’t take much for Imchy to lose his plot or plans! Grumph!
I can’t believe the things I could have taken snaps of on my walk up Mansfield Road to Carrington. A gang of youths lurking behind the fast food kitchen in the back. A bumper-to-bumper crash near the Chapel. Then, four police cars belted past, going toward the City; I was at the top of the hill when they went by and could have caught all four vehicles, one an armed response one, in one frame.
As I was swearing and calling myself names for forgetting to take the Kodak, two more cars passed with lights on, both unmarked with hidden blue lights in the grill. I got even more annoyed with myself then. I would have taken a few shots of some trees and shrubs down the hill with various shades. By the time I got down into Carrington, I could feel bile building in my stomach… possibly caused by my inner outburst of self-loathing at forgetting the Kodak. It really pissed me off! I’d not felt so annoyed for at least 20 minutes. Tsk!
When I got to the Sherrington Park Medical Practice—I’m not kidding—I was still giving myself grief about not taking the Kodak and walked straight past it! I got down near the Lidl store and realised what I’d done. The self-annoyance, nay, self-anger, got even worse with me then! I wondered if I had a mini-seizure as I got to the surgery.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – ONE!
When I got inside, the do-it-yourself signing-in thingamajig was in use. No receptionist could be seen, but one did arrive shortly.
She arrived because somehow I’d crashed the signing in, wotsit. I couldn’t see how I could have done wrong; it’s only pressing the four confirmation buttons; I can’t recall which day, the month of birth, and the first letter of your Surname, I think. A message came up saying ‘Your arrival has been recorded, then the screen went blanl and the lady arrived, giving me a sort of look that said, “Oh, dear, it’s Him!”, or “Why does he have to come every time I’m on duty!” She was very nice about it, though. But my EQ rang out with that look I got. Haha! As I sat down, the lady in the waiting room indicated that the same thing had happened to her. That cheered me up.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – TWO!
I sat down and got my crossword book out, which made me more self-discussed! I also forgot to take my reading spectacles with me! It was much like hard work reading the clues, so after a few minutes, I gave up and put the book back in the trolley basket.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – THREE!
Whether it was a mini-seizure or I fell asleep, I can’t say.
I was roused by concerned patients in the waiting room. I was just about to fall off the chair when two of them grabbed me, preventing me from falling. The lady said she could see me nodding off, and I began to lean to my right more and more. Thanks to the man and woman for helping and rescuing me, whoever you were. ♥
SURGERY JOY – Nurse Caroline
Nurse Caroline came to collect me, and we entered the treatment room. The DVT nurse was not coming today; I expect another appointment will be given. But seeing Caroline’s sweet, helpful, caring smile took away any concerns. She has this effect on me, you know. 💘 I think at this stage, I had a mini seizure again cause the next thing I recall was leaving the centre and going into the car park. With no pain in either arm, had I had the RSV infection or not?
After a few minutes of pushing the 3-wheeled walker-trolley up the hill towards Sherwood, I felt the serum doing its thing in my right arm. There was very little pain compared to the two shots, COVID-19 and flu, last week. As I descended the Mansfield Road hill into Sherwood, I felt a little fatigued, a side effect I expected. I took my time.
I called into the J Sainsbury Local store the first time I’d been there. I got some treats for the wardens.
Then, I popped into the Continental shop to get another jar of the fantastic-tasting Golonkowa.
I got onto Winchester SDtreet and to the bus stop just as a bus arrived! It was one of the new buses that had space for me to stand up for the journey. I was soon up the hill and getting off the bus. There was no way I was up to walking up the hill. So, I’d had good & bad moments on today’s outing.
I was a smidge concerned about having good luck. Seeing Nurse Caroline, even if most of it was a blur now. Catching the bus with perfect timing!
It’s not natural to me.
BACK AT THE COMPLEX
I got off the bus safely, thanking the driver.
I called into the office to drop the bits off.
To the end of the building and up in the lift to cell 72.
I wearily got in and straight to the Porcelain Throne.
Trotsky Terence Contolled, a little messy.
Hunger took a grip, and I decided to have the cheesy cobs I’d bought, no-butter buttered, with pork in jelly, sliced oh so thick and crammed into the rolls. I also sliced some tomatoes (slicing off a bit off of the end of my left-hand thumb) to salt and add to the feast.
They tasted just grand!
The meat and the jelly blended with the cheesy roll delightfully!
Carer Promise arrived as I was emptying the day catheter. It had not filled up much because while out and about, I also forgot to take some water with me, as with the reading 
glasses and hearing aid batteries, and to pick up the Kodak Tim camera. As I emptied the urine pouch, I soon found out that it was not a good idea to forget to take the water with me. 
As you can see above, the urine was the bloodiest for many months, perhaps a year.
As per the NHS instructions, I called 111. Luckily, Precious had not left, and he took over the phone as I could not make out the questions being asked. As if I didn’t know what was about to be told me, it was “To drink more water.” So, I did! Fair enough, because I’d fallen asleep and did not drink enough.
I took a wash and meandered into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, but I stopped myself from making a brew, what with the dark colour of the urine.
I took these snaps of the sunsetting and got down in 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. The idea was to watch a documentary on the TV and then get my head down.
I’d gone off into a deep sleep within a minute.
I sprang a wake, unsure when or what time, and looked at the night catheter on the floor. It still seemed very dark to me. Got the Kodak and took this snap of it on the floor. Realising I’d not got into the bed, I checked the time… it was 04:00hrs. I got up, changed the catheter,
and decided to stay up. Bleary-eyed, with blood from the thumb having trickled down my nightwear. I was wiping it with a towel and 
on the bed leg.
I merely laughed it off! Of course.
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I hoped the Grim Reaper might be calling… but no! Hehe!
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Bit of blood mixed in the nocturnal bag?
Morning views.
My beloved tree copse. I’d love to have a hobble through it again. But…
Late evening view.
Beef in rich stout gravy. With added chopped red onions. Cooked in the microwave, using the new Heat & Eat vented box. Potato chunks cooked in the Air Fryer. Brown ready-sliced 
cobs and an expensive Pots & Co. Lemon & Lime Posset.
I found seven in ten minutes!
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He should have put ‘one word to describe this ode.’ Tsk!
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Frighteningly dark urine in the nocturnal bag!.
Another bit of good and bad news.
I took this snap of the carrier bags in my super-massive hallway (Hehe!) I could see some objects formed by the bags. Can you see anything in there?
Got the fridge filled a bit now.
The Pukka pies are a new product.
Before starting the blog, I popped into the balcony to see if anything would be worth photoing and was greeted with
A great choice was in the fridge if I fancied a sarnie to nibble on yeast extract, Asda, and Vegemite. They are also good as flavouring in some meals, the ones I used to make using the oven that I can no longer do due to the demise of the oven. I’ve only had it for… Ah, yes. I think it was 2008 when I bought it. I 
can’t get another one until the funds build up. But, I’ve got the microwave and a diddy air-fryer, so I’ll be able to cope with my usual aplomb and calm, capably copeable manner as I do with these things
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time. I did hit my shoulder on the doorframe, entering the wet room. I never used to do this when I had a cataract problem. This Glaucoma Gladys ailment must be worse than the cataract? But, they tell me it will be treated with a laser, in the same way, but it will take a lot longer, and I’ll have to take someone, relative, friend or caregiver with me to have the procedure at the hospital. No relative or friend to help, so a costly carer is the option. But the hospital has to write in the appointment that I ‘Have’ to bring a carer with me, and not just say they advise me to get one.
Much to my surprise, the computer, which had been a bugger for not letting me save things, allowed me to save last night’s sunset views that I tried and failed to go two or three times yesterday. YeeHaa! 
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did!
was oozing blood a smidge worryingly. I had to change the 
protective pants; they were stained a lot.
started again, some, most, only latest for seconds. It destroyed what bit of concentration & confidence I had. It was getting late, and I gave up.
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State Pensioners may be hit by tax hikes totalling over £14,000 from Wednesday when the new budget is unveiled. Labour has pledged not to raise Income Tax, VAT, or employees’ National Insurance contributions. Prime Minister Keir ‘Killer’ Starmer has cautioned that the nation’s “£22bn black hole” must be addressed, suggesting other taxes are likely to increase.
noxaparin hypodermic, as it had leaked and was empty. And almost casually hobbled unrushingly to the wet room. Not that I was sure I would need it; it’s very rare that I do. 
bottom where things hang down a bit. Naturally, after the Constipation Conrad battle, things were terribly sore. The Germoloid soon started calming things down as it was washed and applied. I used a kitchen roll to dry that zone, and then I could check to see if there were any specks of blood, which, surprisingly, were on the towel. But not each time I wiped the area. Challenging to check cause if I twisted and bent with the mirror to try and see, the dangers were apparent, and the blood was only a few tiny specks. So, I 
got on with the most painful and sometimes frighteningly painful task of getting the 
ointment inside Little Inchie… Arrgh
appointment, to ring to see if I can get a lift to the Doctor’s appointment. 
ded to do: ears, eyes, ankle ulcer, Cartilages, Carole and Chloe, Arthur Itis, etc.
Then, I refitted the new Catheter pouch, bag and strappings. 
Ruled for hours, out of the blue.
I think this was the first shot of the day.
Waste bags I took to the chute.
Asda order.
Made a cock-up here!
Aha, fresh foods!
Chips, lamb burgers & ready meals.
Afternoon shot?
Evening.
A bit later… I think.
Even later, as Carer Chrisa arrived.
Minced lamb & onions, potatoes,
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Another waking to find that the nocturnal pouch was too dark again. But at least the bag was a little fuller anyway.
Cartilage Choe gave way as I turned to deal with the pouch, and I banged it on the ‘fall out of bed’ stopper bar. I laughed it off! 
I dealt with emptying the pouch and sealed it for disposal. Then, off to the wet room, I trotted. Well, I limped with 
encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, the ex-hospital bed in it, and entry to the balcony doors in it. I spotted its state: unkempt, scruffy, untidy. I had a twinge of guilt come over me. I was determined to find the time to sort the mess out sometime today. Cause it didn’t get done! My warped mind sent me off to do other things. I can’t recall any of them getting done, though. Tsk! 
I went onto the balcony, initially when I saw it raining and thought the mudslide at the end car park might be worth a shot. There was hardly any muddy water there. Then I spotted someone behind one of the vans. The Inchy 
I found a mug of tea made and gone cold in the kitchen, and the worrying bit was that I’d left the hot water tap 
(faucet) running again!
chronological order as they were taken. I assume they were taken at different times because of their different shapes: the more square ones were taken on the cheap stand-by cameras, and the wider ones on the Kodak. So, I assume we had some more rain, but I missed it through a seizure, falling asleep, or Doreen’s Dementia. Hehe!
Obviously, a late-night shot was taken at some point. And not a very good one either. I think it might be bad enough to get into the Tate Gallery? 
Tasty battered onion rings, crispy oven-baked potato chips, wholemeal bread rolls, a giant spring onion, and lemon mousse to follow. 
ruined another night.
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They are busy, thought this might cheer them up!
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T
Gorrit, this time.
I used the ready-made mini pot of gravy for the meal. It saved a lot of time in preparing real gravy. Shake the pot rigorously, then microwave for one minute, wait 30 seconds and heat for another minute. What could be easier?
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checked on the time, and swiftly fell back to sleep again. Nice move!
I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter contraption. 
leg and all over the new nightshirt. 
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 and 
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… 
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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, I 
had a couple of Accifauxpas en route. 
sent a couple of disorientating streaks of lighting up the leg. I’ve never suffered two in a row before. She carried on throughout the day, giving me the odd one now and then, but no more doubles. That double was really painful!
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was back in full control, no doubt about it. However, the Kharki colour that he had favoured for a fortnight now was again on show. It was straw-like in appearance. I checked the time and decided I could get the ablutions done before a Carer was due. So I did…
, to give way.
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.
The Iceland Man Cameth.
Popped the bags in the doorway for me.
Topped up with drinkies to keep the bladder and catheter happy.
And some treats for myself.
arrived.
I took this shot of the sunset from the kitchen window. Then 
I didn’t!
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Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-
free, and confidence-returning day! 
The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, 
as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and 
yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!
I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
chin was embarrassing as well!
I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me.
As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what? I
against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.
.
! It was a man and woman (Amelia) 
from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming. 
, supported by 
it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.
Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
or two.
Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!
If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven.
I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.
I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.