Inchie: Friday 31th July 2026

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Friday 31st July 2026
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A Little Moan & groan to start… Sorry.
I/ve had a few days of bad depression; I sometimes get to the stage when I lose interest and despise myself for doing so. Take it as it comes. But not this week.
My invented helper, , has not visited for ages. Although maybe I created him to help me cope? This indicated to me that I have lost interest in all my failings, flundering and fearsome unsolvable problems. I can go on as long as there is money to pay my direct debits… Little things like electricity, rent, etc. Then what?
My problems in tackling problems are not something I want. The Dementia is getting worse; no question. I cannot do something one day and can the next. Obviously there is more to the effects. Like remembering what has and hasn’t been done. Many folk in my position have these and other problems to cope with. How come this morning I can write things like this? Yesterday, another example, both bad days for depression?
I loathe myself for dropping, walking into things, forgetting things, but most of all, my inability to get to the bank to sort money out. If I go, it will cost a fortune that I don’t have; my balance is that low. Taxis & Carers to go with me, likely to be £60, based on what I have to pay for taxis to and from the QMC-A&E when the Catheter blocks. (Why they sent me to A&E is unknown.) The nurse told me to get a taxi as it would be quicker than an “ambulance.” And classed as a medical emergency. I arrived at A&E, and it took 4 hours to be seen. During which, the Catheter remained painful and blocked;  Then he could not get the tube back in on two tries, went to another office, and it took that man twice to fit it in. I’m missing chunks out from here on, after seeing the waffle I’ve already put on.
Last time I went, the taxi there cost more than usual, and I did not have enough to get one back. I got no guides or facts given about frequencies of changes. Or how to undo and refit the tube collection array on my leg. The only thing said was: do not let the array fall loose! It fell off the following morning.
I’m due a visit to the Nuthall Hospital in August. But will not be able to take a Carer to answer questions. Hopefully I can get a lift from Easy Link, if their bus does not break down again like last time. 

So, you see here approx’ 15% of my problems. Huh!
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I gorrup at 06:40; (depressed without cause) The first thing I noticed was the night bag on the floor, in the same position it was when I got my head down. I cannot recall being woken up overnight. No acidy tastes in my throat, so no seizures had. Yet I felt so tired and worn out!
There was plenty of urine in the bag as well. I got the BP tackle out and left the night bag on the recliner, and did the BP tests. BP high; BP was 170/70, pulse 68, Temp 35.5, blood 95 high, 78 low. Had it much worse these last three weeks. I think this is why Matron took a photograph of the Excel recording sheet with her.
Ah, Matron, my only hope to get in a home.
Matron said that it is getting harder to find space.
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A most rapid sudden requirement for the toilet arrived. Nothing new about this, this last week. I think it was a fourth first-morning visit on the trot, and I barely got there in time; my excrement suits itself when it wants to evacuate. A Trotsky Terence job again.
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I emptied the night bag and returned to the recliner to record the reading. You’ll notice in the photo above that the urine in it was bright and orangy. Minutes later as urine began to flow… Scarily, it was mostly blood!
That got me worrying. The very thought of going to the damned uncaring QMC A&E deepened my depression and frustration. Not to mention the £30 or so that would be needed to get there and back, for the taxis.
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I started to get things ready, paper towels and glasses put in the three-wheeled walker as I got it from the balcony. Got the trousers and jumper out. Could not get the shoes on, but managed to get a pair of slippers on. I was going to ring DG. Realising the Carer’s due around 0800hrs, and decided to wait for him so he could get my proper outside shoes on for my feet, and help with the trousers. 
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I got a giant potato in the crock-out while waiting, and cleaned up a bit, and did the teggies. When I got back to the room, I noticed the urine was now much lighter and much less bloody. Another flipping mystery! But the joy of not having to go to the A&E briefly visited me. Great!
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0800hrs, the Carer arrived. I did not mention the blood problem for fear he would ring for an ambulance.
Medications: Porphyrin pain in the shoulder and neck.
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I got today’s grusone daily Ode created; I’d sunk back down again in spirits, self-pity had to be avoided.
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Then caught up with finishing yesterday’s post. But throughout the day, my concentration was once again cognitively weak. Easily sidetracked, disoriented, warped at times. None of these was helped with the eyesight getting worse. I’ll be glad to get one of the eyes done; when? No idea, waiting for the summoning appointment to arrive. My mind was the second concern today. 
The Bank situation being the top one.
I’m missing .
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Checked the overcooked potato in the crockpot. I overcooked it a little when I say little… I mean a lot. Tsk!
It’ll have to be eaten mashed.
Or maybe roasted slices?
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I went onto the balcony; the heat hit me when I opened the door to take some cloud and sky shots. No signs of rain amongst them today.
The floor greenery is going yellow and brown out there.
Still look beautiful up in the sky though. 
But the lack of rain and too much heat is destroying the greenery all around. 
The end of the car park, which usually had wet mud slides from the Woodthorpe Park behind us, looked bone-dry. The lawn bit is now 80% destroyed. Sad! I imagine the wildfires may spread to more areas when this cooler spell returns to hot weather.  
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Chicken sausages, boiled, sliced and then baked potatoes; with Teriyaki sauce. Tomatoes and some raw garden peas.
Taste Rating: 7/10.
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Short but Welcome!
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Inchie Today: Thursday 30th July 2026

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UK’s Latest Flare-Up
Newest outbreak: An area of about 600m by 200m (1,968ft by 656ft) was alight in Abbot’s Wood
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Thursday 30th July 2026
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06:10hrs, almost an : As I blurbed back into faux-life. To the sound and sensation of what felt like a bubbling evacuation doing its best to escape. Although this was a semi-panic moment, I recognised the foul acidic after-seizure tasting reflux on its way up through my throat, mouth and nasals. Meaning my balance was not so good, but I used all speed available to get up and hasten to the wet room. Before I’d left the room, I realised that the evacuation was gaining impetus, and an aroma, if that’s the word, escaped and permeated the entire flat. Most fortunately, the WC door was only about five paces from where I stood. Which equates to about ten of my shuffles. I was certain sure that I did not tear my protection pants down in time as the flood, nae, torrent began. Once it had finished, I nervously checked the state of the PPs. Fabulous! All was white! Can’t I say the same for the Porcelain? This fortune seemed to ease the depths of my depression; I liked it!
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I took off and emptied the nocturnal night bag, cleaned the room’s furniture. Then had a wash, shave, and was about to clean my teeth, and the intercom rang out. I got to the panel, but it had gone wonky again: no sound, but it showed the view for a second. It was a food delivery.
My depression sank again. Why the Hell, how the Hell, did I order food again? I think I may have made the order for next week; later, I found it recorded for next Thursday on my calendar. I tried to blame it on my Arithmaphobia, the Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Toothache Tiffany, Fractured Knee Frank, Arthur Itis, anything but myself. I lost the plot there again. 
I had to get a dressing gown on quickly, to get down to let him in. But, no, by the time I got to the lift, the driver was getting out-of-it. A sociable chap. When I mentioned I ordered for the wrong week, he told me I’d be surprised by the number of times that older people have told him the same thing. Which is basically the same as the Iceland driver told me two weeks ago.
There’s a moral here. Somewhere?
He helped me get the food into my carriers. Then asked me to amend my telephone number on the J Sainsbury site; he tried to phone me earlier, and the number JS gave him was not recognised. Also, next time you get the day wrong, or forget it, or are unprepared, I can call. Hehe!
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I got the food away, and hoovered the flat. Then I emptied all the waste bins into one big one. In what turned into a vain hope, that the Carer would trip over it and take it to the waste disposal tunnel. Hahaha! 
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I tried to get my slippers and protection pants on. Coped with the PPs, but the slippers were too painful.
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♬ Oh, Susana ♬ chimed from the doorbell; in walked a Carer. Not even noticing the waste bag. Med’s issued.
He took this shot of my extremely long-nailed, painful, Raynaud’s phenomenon-ridden toes. But the legs and feet have lost all their swelling. He is doing a long visit at noon. I asked him to replace the day Catheter bag. He still thinks it is two-week changes.
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I got on the computer and swiftly got lost with what I was doing, done or going to do. Thus, three hours later when the Carer returned, I’d only just updated yesterday’s blog. 
I asked him again if he would go shopping with me. No answer. So I pointed out he refused to yesterday, saying he’s going tomorrow. I had to convince him, and showed him the vegetable stew I’d been making. How can I have a vegetable stew without potatoes? He scowled a little, but I put pressure on him and by the time he’d dressed me and we got to the bus stop, he was back to normal. Sat on the bench with his mobile out.
We were soon in Sherwood, and walking up Mansfield Road towards Ozan store, Carer told me we must hurry. I said I’m doing my best, and gave him an Inchie stare-glare! When we arrived at the store, he’d mellowed and took an interest and helped me get a selection of foods. We got some Soda water, Hungarian. Couldn’t find the French cheese I got last week, but he chose one for me from the other blue-veined cheeses. We investigated their wonderful deli-meats counter; they had none of the pork I wanted, so the Carer took me to the prepacked meats and found some smoked belly pork that tickled my fancy. The veg they had was not fresh, but I got a carrot and a bag of potatoes, the best of a bad batch, with help from the Carer. I also got a mini-sized thick-coated lemon madeira cake, well, two of them. One left now.
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Paid up, and back up to the bus stop. Carer sat down on the floor near the bus stop; due in 18 mins and back on his mobile. I kept talking to him, which was not appreciated. So rabbited on even more. Hehehe!
Back to the flats, and the lad seemed to cheer up a smidgeon. Hobbled through the three flat block sections, and in the lift back up to my cell.
Carer got his coat on. I said farewell; he said, Arnie-like, I’ll be back. Haha!
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I added some carrot, sliced very thin so it would cook quicker. After all that, I cut up spuds thin again. Cut some more yellow tomatoes, onion, water chestnuts, sweetcorn, chestnut mushrooms, left on a low light.
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Back to the computer, still struggling to concentrate. Jenny’s hubby, Frank, came in with dried laundry for me. So kind of him. Bless him.
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Carer came for the 16:00hr call. Medications issued.
I was feeling drained, and my eyes were worse than ever. (Cataract). I have to keep trying on and changing to a pair that might be easier.
It’s been around erm… I believe it was April when I went for the preop checks, when I had a seizure. and got another last week. It’s been a long time, and I’ve got to wait again now for the operation, well, lasering. Jenny had a similar kerfuffle; she was telling me. When she finally got to have the operation, they decided not to do it! Poor Jenny! 
I struggle with seeing the keyboard, especially worse in the afternoons and evenings.
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The vegetable stew/soup was served up; not a lot. Much of it seemed to have gone and evaporated? What did I do wrong in the cooking process? No idea! However, it tasted rather good. Taste Rating: 8.8/10.
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Carer Mirza did the last call, and very Welcome. The lad is a Gem. I was so tired. I still hope for a miracle, and Mirza & Ejaz can start visiting me again. But, with me deciding to try and cut out the long visits done by the uncaring young bully-boys, I’ll stand no chance now.
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TTFN, Keep safe, and Good Luck!
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Inchie Today: Wendnesday 29th July 2026

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WEDNESDAY 29th JULY 2026
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06:10hrs: As I stirred this morning, EQ-Inchy was warning me that I would regret getting up today.
Astoundingly, he was right, once again! Worra Rotten Day!
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I’m not going to record everything; it’d take too long; I can’t remember everything anyway. The first thing I realised was the absence of calls to the Porcelain Throne. Nine hours later now, and still no evacuation. Mind you. I did eat all of the meal and a half that I ate just before getting settled. I’ve put the photo on again.
An absolute feast it was. Raw fresh garden peas, potato-curls, and a packet of bacon-bits in the six thick slices of sourdough bread, with Teriyaki sauce. And two yellow tomatoes. May I have mayhap eaten too much and blocked the innards up? Hehe!
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I mosied, well, hobbled into the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie tea; remembering I smashed a precious mug the other day, and taking extra care with this one.
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I reached up to get the tea, knocking a Thompson’s tea cabby out with the Glengettie one, which lost its lid as it bounced via the kettle, radiator, fridge and rolled in a circle as it hit the floor; scattering the black tea bags en route. As I finished collecting the tea bags with the pickerupper, to be sorted and save the unbroken ones to use again, the landline chirrupped.
I picked up the receiver, said, ‘Good morning’, and a strained female said something along the lines of: “Wot time do yer call that gerrome?” Silence fell for a few seconds followed by, “Oh. I am a C_ _ _! I’ve rang the wrong number, ain’t I?” Then the dialling tone returned. I was sniling to myself as I tripped over the laundry bag. And fortunately fell to the right, and leaned into the bed. Thus saving a possible trip to the hospital. Which is so bad these last few visits.  
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Chronically depressed about the things that happened today. Can’t pull myself of of it.
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Although Matron calling usually picks me up, well, it did, but it didn’t last long once she’d gone. All did was tell her of my woes. Bless her.
Depressed like never before.
The Red Cross engineer who called as well, to service & check on the bed, was a grand chap. He told me to ring my quack and ask to be referred to an O.T. I think I have been, but am not sure.
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Still not paid a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
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Higher due to Matron visiting,
The helpful RC man,
and Jenny’s email.
It’s not me today; I’m so depressed.
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Thursday morning, catch-up. Feeling a slight bit less down; a sense of acceptance of failures is easier than fighting a losing, unwinnable battle.
The first incident, accident, or failure will, of course, bring out my frustrated temper with myself of late.
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19:00: Meal of the day.
Soup & last of the sourdough bread,
TASTE RATING: 5.2/10
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Didn’t even get a peep-in today.
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All the best, oh, the UK has now got blazing trees on the South Coast. Expect more, we’re told on the news.
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Sussex Fire
Isle Of Man…
Isle Of Man, second one
Isle Of Man…,
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Inchie: Tuesday 28th July 2026

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My last photographic adventure,
I thought I’d caught an alien invader.
Come to see Europe’s raging wildfire?
I had a minutes-worth of Ataxia,
Did they bring weapons, armamentaria?
“‘Twas the light bulb’s reflection, “I get dafter!
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Last night’s meal left me with digestion,
How did it taste? A Good question,
My rating was 3.5 out of 10!
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TUESDAY 28th JULY 2025
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06:30hrs: Bounced out of bed, removing the night pouch as I jumped over the wheelchair and did a few minutes of shadow boxing, as I hummed the National Anthem.
A hundred or so press-ups later, then some squats and toe touchings, and I needed the Porcelain Throne…
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Alright, I’ll start again then…
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I begrudgingly woke up with bladder pains of the flowback nature. My immediate thought was: Shit! I’ll have to get a taxi to the QMC A&E now. Naked, I instantly started finding problems before checking first. 
Another £30+ in taxi fares, then a wait of four-and-a-half hours like last time, waiting to be seen. Blood and urine bursting out through the fungal lesions on my sadly shrinking minuscule, battered mini-pinkie… The embarrassment, frustrations, and a mega-depression to cope with…, then realised there was nobody to help me get dressed! I’d have to go with the clothes in the walker-trolley, and a dressing gown on. 
I checked the night bag to find I’d left the smaller day bag on overnight! That was the problem giving me the backflow to the kidneys. I emptied it straight away, and slowly, after emptying & taking an Oxycodone.
I noticed my eyesight was much worse this morning, put oil in the ears, and drops in the eyes.
Then all the other unsettled, unsorted, not solved issues came flooding in. Oligarchal British Gas & Virgin Media. CorelDraw, the bank farce, Neurology, EENT, Nutall Hospital… on and on these worries worried me. 
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Some bother with the Carer this morning. I was in a right bad, gruff mood, and I kept finding things for him to do each time he sat in the recliner to use his mobile. I told him yesterday that we would go down on his longer call to get the keyboard I can see. He went through each of the clapped-out keyboards I had and found one that had packed up yesterday. Got it going, but it is still too much hard work seeing it in such a worse state.
I suggested we go to the computer shop to get a replacement; then he told me the man rang him and said he had no lit-up keyboards in stock. Doubts showed their faces, but I said we would go to the shop tomorrow. Then get some spuds, then call at the opticians to explain that I had a seizure at the pre-op meeting at the EENT, and had to wait six weeks to get another appointment; that was for two weeks later! Then we can catch a bus outside the opticians back to the flat. If I have time, he said.   
I got him to mop the kitchen floor; it needs it nearly every day, with me being barefoot. Got him to clean between the fridge door; it was filthy. He returned to his mobile in my recliner. I asked him to check the dates on some food in a box behind the chair. Five minutes later, he was back sitting on the recliner, mobile recording.
I asked him to clean between the cupboards in the kitchen. But he just watched me do them instead. I did a decent job too. Then realised it was me who did them. I asked him to sort the dates in the fridge, and he said, “I’ve done enough now”!
So, I was busier than before he came on his second hour-long visit. Which meant that when he arrived for the 16:00hr medicine call, I’d barely started this blog!
I used to love doing the blog. I was so weary, foofy-eyed, and frustrated that I let him do his usual: more time spent on his phone than doing anything.
Which tempts me to accept the offer from the lady to be Carer for me, and get rid of the pathetic young Carer I’m stuck with. No problems with Misra, but he calls on me less often, and Carer Ejaz doesn’t call at all now.
I still sense an ulterior or hidden truth about the way I’m being treated. Shame.
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Sister Jane rang me, but I was at my lowest ebb in years at the time. I may have been less than appreciative, forcing a thanks for calling as I put down the phone.
Feeling ashamed and guilty.
The last time my balance was as low as this,
would be around about 1966.
I can’t write anymore.
I’m a gibbering wreck.
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I’m hoping that Carer Mirza comes tonight.
He did not come; another vote in favour of
getting rid of the Carers altogether.
Without the help of Mirza & Ejaz,
it’s just not working. I cannot see it working, and I cannot afford it. I need intervention from a safe source, PLEASE!
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Carer in other room as I prepped the meal.
Mizra would help me when using knives, knowing I drop and lose grip on things later in the evenings.

Dropped the mug Jenny gave me last time I broke one, grabbed at it and clouted my knuckles on the counter edge and missed the mug, which shattered on the floor. Carer appeared and got the mess cleared for me.
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I wondered for a moment if my plea to go into a home is proceeding or has been rejected? No communication re the situation. But with the crisis in Social Care and the NHS, I can understand if it is being refused.
But I can’t go on much longer financially, or emotionally, with the cost of the Carers, and the bank statements not being looked at yet, weeks after they arrived and I informed the relevant people. The Warden and the NCC Procurement. No communication re the situation.
Understandably, methinks, but it still makes one think about an existence amidst billions, and feeling useless, pathetic and abandoned.
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Sourdough breag, bacon, fresh peas,
potato Curlies. I ate the lot!
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Inchie Today: Sunday 26th April 2026

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After washing the pots from last night’s meal, I dropped the cutlery and cut my finger as I retrieved them. I was so down, it didn’t even bother me. Took this snap later.
Got an ice cream from the freezer, settled into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. My aim was to eat the ice cream cone while watching some recorded episodes of ‘Heartbeat’. This didn’t work out, fancy that!
I put down the ice cream cone to investigate why the TV was informing me there was No Internet Link, or something like that. HUH! Could I find the Virgin Media remote control that I’d used five minutes earlier to turn on the television? NO!
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, and spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. The Catheter threatening to block, causing a mega-painful flowback, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, the damned seizures, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane. I searched the room; it had to be in here somewhere! Surely to Heaven? Not in the chair. Not on the floor. Not underneath the chair, cupboard bed or on the Carers’ table? No. I looked in the wet room? No. The kitchenette? No. But it was a good thing I checked in there. I’d left the hot tap (faucet) running. Cleaned up the mess. Then I even looked in the hallway for the remote control. No!
Back to the front room, and saw it straight away!
It was on the cabinet with the TV on it!
My spirits were sinking, but I was so glad I found it. But it proved of little help in my getting the damned thing to work. I got the computer back on, and that was working okay. Fiddled with plugs and sockets to make sure they were all connected. Tried turning the box off then back on again. I’d not yet got the night Catheter on, and the day one was getting full, so I emptied it. Recorded the colour and amount, emptied it in the toilet, returned and gave up with the TV. I plopped down on the recliner to take the slippers off… squashing the now melted ice cream with my bum as I did so. I swore a fair bit, then got the cloths to dry things up. I gave up the search. I climbed into the hospital bed, still swearing and cursing at my lousy luck!
I was amazed when, within a minute at most, sweet Morpheus welcomed me.
Story to be finalised later.
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SUNDAY 26th JULY 2026
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0620hrs; I stirred back into imitation-life, almost falling, getting myself out of bed, to hasten to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Another Constipation Conrad affair. Causing some bleeding from
Cleaned things up, and medicated the rear end. Then thought I heard voices?
I checked the front door in case someone wanted entry; nobody there, but still I could hear voices nearby?
I soon realised they were from the front room, and thought the Carer may have arrived early, walked into the room, and Another miracle: I found that the TV was on! A Sherlock Holmes Mode was engaged; to try to work out what had gone on, and was going on! I did my best to work it out logically. To put the TV on, I have to press the remote control each time. I was in bed… Ah, I rummaged through the bedding and found it. Leaving another puzzle to be sorted. I think, erm… How, when using it for the first time, did I manage to transport it to the bed, when I did not find it or go near the bed after losing it? I think I’ve confused myself now.
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Had a quick wash, and took two photographs of the amazing sky and the clouds on offer from the kitchenette window, then went back with the remote to see if the TV would come back on again.
Well, it did, but the screen flickers a bit and I still can’t get on to watch any prerecorded stuff that I’ve saved to watch. Tut!
The computer farce, £850 plus fitting. British Gas, increased payment to nearly £300 a month. The Bank demands that I’ve got to go see them, and that would cost me dosh for a Carer to go with me. They must know my financial situation… Then again, I can’t get on their site; they have the wrong telephone number and the wrong email address. But they use the right one with the statement totals? I could lose it altogether.
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I’m feeling bad this morning, but with a twinge of accepting that things are not going to get any better. Where can I get help from?
Someone, not a Carer for Heaven’s sake, to go with me to the Bank. Advise me on how to cancel standing orders I know nothing about.
Finish with the Carers; I’m simply running out of money. And it’s not working at all; now they have taken Ejaz and Mirza off me. I hope to get a cleaner to replace them, to do the laundry, and not have any Carers call at all.
I’ll need help with the dosages and medications, of course, before they are got rid of.
That way, hopefully I’ll be paying a lot less for the cleaner, and I should be able to survive financially.
Need help to sort things out, of course.
A home seems a great idea, but I don’t think it is on the cards now. Haven’t heard anything about it.
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Gawd, I’m feeling even lower now. And feeling a chunk pathetic, to say the least.
The BP readings are depressing as well.
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The bikkies My Angel Jenny sent for me were put in a bikkie jar all themselves.
The Carer arrived, ‘Leave-it-Stewart’ this time.
I can’t help this sinking sensation and feeling. Worried.
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Second caller, Ahram arrived.
I searched for some nocturnal Catheter pouches as we only had a few left under the Carers’ table now. I found a bag after a lengthy deep search. As you can see in the photo above, another thing to worry about. Can you see how much narrower the new tube on the top is compared to the usual one? And the sealing around the release valve looks likely to come apart before the urine flows in. Carer Ahram offered to ring them about it on Wednesday.
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I went into the wet room with a view to getting a shave and wash. guess what?
I’d left that sink’s tap running this time. So, shaving & washing are off the menu.
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TTFN

Inchie Today: Thurs/Fri 23/24th July 2025: Bad days, especially vague Friday

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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 Wed 22 July: Off to the EENY for Cataract Preppimg

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Inchies Hospital Day Blog
Wednesday 22nd July 2026
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Might be short, timewise, medical limitations, and the cost of the bloody taxis might bankrupt me. “Tsk!”
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Another broken sleep pattern. I rose, jumped out of the bed, did a double somersault over 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. Popped out onto the balcony and sang a good morning yodel to the local neighbours, and did 200 naked press-ups…
All right, I know, I know. I’ll start again then.
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I woke at 05:15hrs, and stayed there, dejected, morose, and stayed in the same position, physically, but under the strain of mental turmoil and depression, for an hour or so. Thus, a normal awakening.
Again, I’d not put the night pouch on last night. It was so blown up I expected it to burst, but it didn’t. Was my luck changing? Hahaha! What a daft thought!
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I measured the jug of urine, and guessed the colour, and hastened, albeit it more of a hobbled-swift-limp, to the Porcelain Throne. This evacuation was in much more of a Constipation Conrad style, a rarity of late. Much to the displeasure of my haemorrhoids. Little cleaning up was needed, & no escpages. Which was a nice change
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Of to check if I’d left anything on the cooker, left the fridge or freezer doors open, or taps left running. Then took the potatoes from the pan, ran cold water on them and threw them away. Krangleturds! Then washed last night’s pots I’d left soaking in the sink.
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My mind semi-engaged, as I remembered this was the hospital day, and faux-planned what needed doing in preparation. Which, as usual, I abandoned and started doing something else. This time I strayed off the plot, and did the Health checks. And was pleasantly surprised to see (both of the day were) figures in just High. 
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I got the computer on, and realised I’d not made the list of things to do and take with me to the hospital. But got sidetracked in my mission, as Carer Akram arrived.
He noticed a fresh bruise on mt forehead. He took a snap of it with my camera. I could not see a bruise. Akram is a good listener and remembers things that I ask him to do, MedPhorpainand started without any asking or prompting. He Phorpained my back, neck, and shoulders after using the remover spray.
Issued the medications. I forgot to ask him to have the Catheter bag changed. 
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I spent a while making a list of things to do in preparation of the hospital visit, what to take with me. Mizra reminded me to take the paperwork last night, and put it into the waker-trolley for me in a hard envelope, bless him. The camera was too big to carry. A Kodak, and an old Kodak, so it is rather bulky and heavy.
Hearing aid in the tab-holes with new batteries, and both of my prescription glasses. Added the bus pass if needed, and enough money for the taxi each way.
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When the next Carer arrived, he thought that there would be no Escort coming. Then I got an email saying the Easy-Link lift to go to the QMC EENT had been cancelled due to the bus breaking down.
This brought on anger, as my bad luck gets more frequent every day! A deep depression, and fear about not having enough cash to pay both ways for taxis!
With a chance of no Escort as well, I was ready to call it a day. But I think a Carer said it was arranged, but it won’t be me… I clung to the hope.
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I turned off the computer, and pressed on with a stand-up wash, shave and teggie-cleaning in the wet room.
With a most disturbing uncertainty.
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As I washed and shaved, the telephone chirped into life. 
I got to the landline, and it was the Doctor’s surgery receptionist, giving me the INR test results.
I returned to the wet room to find I’d left the hot tap running and now, potentially had the cleanest wet room floor than ever before. I’d just put soap powder and bleach in the sink to soak the flannels, then the water spilt over onto the deck!
As I was mopping it up, I knocked a full kitchen roll into the flood. Without thinking, my mind at this point was engaged with self-pity… I bent down to retrieve it, and hit my head on the edge of the sink. Then the intercom
 chimed up. No video on the screen, just black. I pressed the open door button, and returned to the wet room and hastily got some more water to go down the drain hole.
Whoever it was on the intercom had not arrived yet. 
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PREPARING, TRAVELLING TO,
TREATMENT AND RETURNING
What a wonderful pleasure; it was Carer Ejaz who arrived to be mt escort to the hospital! I could not help myself and hugged him as he entered the room. Bad news about having to get taxis both ways, but he was such a help in getting me ready, and a comfort. He went through the list and made sure I’d got everything needed for the trip. Ordered a taxi and got me dressed; I gave Ejaz all the cash I had to sort paying the drivers with. And down to the main foyer in plenty of time to meet the cabbie. Helped me into the car, but the trolley walker collapsed in the boot, and we were off on our way to the hospital.  
The driver got us there in plenty of time. But by the time he’d struggled to get somewhere to park and drop us off, things were a little tight. £8.90, not bad that. I went in; no one was on the reception desk. Ejaz asked someone where we should be, and we were sent to the lifts. Once we got there, I recognised the layout from my last visit. We signed in and sat down waiting to be called in.
A few minutes later, a lady came and called out my name, and we followed her to a treatment room. I thought she looked like the lady who was treating me when I had the seizure. When we got in the room, I recognised her as the same lady. She was so understanding and patient with things and me, Bless Her.🌸🪷
A long session of eye-testing and Q&As followed. She was understanding of my struggle to get into position on the viewer, with pain from arthritis in my neck and shoulder. Never showing any sign of frustration. Nine different tests were done on each eye. Then the wall chart readings through different holed cards, and with various other patterns, were done. At this stage, she kindly explained the result so far. This was prompted by my Ejaz saying I thought I’d got Cataract in the left (far worse vision than the right one), and Glaucoma in the left eye. 
I was wrong. I’d got Cataract in both eyes. The floaters had increased greatly in the left eye, and were starting in the right one. Then she explained how serious it was, much worse than they were in her tests months ago when I had the seizure. That stopped the proceedings as she thought I was having a heart attack, and she called the CAT team, and I was kept in cardiac overnight. 
I did mention that when I’d been home for a few days, I was not sure if I’d been fully assessed or not. I called the hospital and asked if I needed to come in again, or await further tests. I was told, “They do know what they are doing”, and the phone died. She seemed concerned about this, and it prompted an apology for it taking them so long- months- to get in touch with me.
Then a lady said I need further tests in the scan room, for further examinations to clarify her own findings. She led us back to the waiting area, where I found a slightly higher chair to sit on as we waited.
I can’t recall the name of these scans, but they were better than a kaleidoscope, and much brighter.
On both eyes, she took several different scans. I was struggling to keep perfectly still, and she had to do a few again. But she was patient with me, and talked throughout, explaining what she was testing and what she was testing. But even with the hearing aids, I didn’t realise this; Ejaz told me afterwards. 
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Then all done, the first lady collected us, and we went back to the first treatment room. One more test on both, for clarification with scans.
Then, some eye drops were put in. I was given two double-sided A4 print-outs, with tips and procedures to be followed, and follow-up guidance. The print was so tiny, minuscule! She recommended that I get someone to read it to me. Had she noticed the hearing aids I was wearing?
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I was hoping to get the tram & bus back home was we left for the exit; both free with my passes. But no, Ejaz (not his fault) ordered a taxi, as he had to get me home quickly, as he had his regular client to visit. My immediate thought was, why am I no longer a regular with Ejaz? I sense some ulterior motive for this. Thus my £39 in the morning dwindled to £3.45 by the time we got back to the flat.
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Well, gone midnight now, I’m so weary. I’ll try to make a meal up, and myself get to bed. Not that I anticipate getting much sleep. So many nights of broken sleep, with the mind always rattling away reminding me of my multitude of unresolved problems,
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TASTE RATING: 7.1/10
Knocked ice off of individual clunks of out-of-date chips from the oven. They were not as good-tasting as anticipated. But the no-butter buttered bread rolls, and last of the Roquefort cheese? Delicious!
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🌹🌺🌷TTFN🌷🌺🌹
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Inchie: Tuesday 21sr JULY 2026

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TUESDAY 21st JULY 2026
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Rose at 04:30hrs, left the night bag on, the tube had blocked, with what looked like little bits of cotton wool intermittently all the way from the Catheter! Made up some spring water bottles and gulped a lot down.
Removed the night pouch and got the computer on. I’d left it in sleep mode. Found the snap of yesterday’s meal, and added it to the blog.
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Off to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation? Treble-stinky, soft but gooey. Bearing in mind that there were no accidents, I was amazed at how long it took me to clean up, unsticking the gluey, tacky, smelly deposits from the tacky bowl. I remembered to reset the Calendar clock.
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Carer Leave-Pots arrived. I pointed out that he has not cleaned or barrier-creamed my Man Breasts (which were bleeding), Back Wings, or underarms for a few weeks now. I got out the Medical Cleaner, Barrier Cream, Allpressan, and Phoroain Gel ready for him to use. I got him to wash my back and dry it well. Then back to the front room, and got him to clean, dry, then apply the barrier cream to the areas in need. When he came in, a tiny spot on my chest was leaking blood; he put a plaster on it. Then I asked him to put the Allpressan foam on the leathery areas of my legs, after getting him to wash my back for me. Sitting down after each treatment to put details on his mobile phone, I pointed out that I was naked and cold, and he moved on to another part of my terribly overweight body.
Wore him out! Hehehe!
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I made a microwave porridge pot, and started on creating the depressing Ode for today.
Forgetting all about the rare brekkie, and it had congealed too far to eat.
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Got to stop now and get things ready for the trip to the shops. Shave, teggies etc., get what clothes I can on.
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Carer arrived. I’d had a wash, teggies cleaned, and shave already done. Got my Protection Pants on, and had cleaned and barrier creamed my privates. All in an effort not to keep the lad waiting when he arrived. Called at the Warden’s office to tell her about the Bank Statements’ arrival. Forgot to ask about toenail cutter, though. I’ll ask on the way back.
We got to the bus stop in plenty of time after all. A bit messy getting settled. With six of us old dears and lads with walkers and trolleys. Hehe!
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I asked the Carer to take some photos in Sherwood & send them to me by email, please. He had the shopping list, and we departed in the lift. Which is when he remembered he’d not logged in at the flat. So, we went back up, and he did so, back in the lift.
We were soon dropping of in Sherwood, and made our way to the Continental Food Store. 
The potatoes they had on show were obviously not new. I managed to get some tiny loose ones that were not too faded, but at £1.69 a litre. Had to search for tomatoes that were not soft, bruised or split open. The meat I wanted was not available. No soft spreadable strong cheese.   
2 bread rolls, to be lathered with no-butter, butter. and sliced red tomatoes. Along with yellow cherry toms on the side.
The mini- potatoes bought today, along with some red onion. No doubt, I’ll sprinkle some salt on the tomatoes  and Tiryaki sauce on the spuds. That is, of course, if I don’t fall asleep. The little trip out to the shop has left me in a thoroughly tired-put condition. Hehe!
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The Carer came to do ten minutes of caring, and twenty minutes sat down on his mobile, but found a few minutes to almost listen to me and had a laugh. He sent the photos he took on Mansfield Road to my email. Off he trotted, quoting Arnie, “I’ll be back”. They were not bad.
The first one as we approached the Azanz Continental Food Store.
You can see the fruit and veg displays outside on the pavement. I have to say again that the quality of food was below par today. I asked if we could go on the first free Thursday next time in hopes of getting some fresher greengroceries to choose and purchase. The lower snap was taken on our was back up the incline to catch the 40 bus.
The paving slabs hurt my feet, toes and knees a little. Uneven, but if I could get a toenail cutter and some stronger Arthritis gel, it would have been a lot less painful and easier walking.
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We got off the bus at the flat complex; the Carer was asked to take this shot of the Winwood Courts bus stop and the bus. Not much interest being shown now; I think he was worried about overshooting his time limit for the visit.
Bless his cotton socks.

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We went into the Winwood doors, and I asked Deana if she had had a word with the foot lady yet, and mentioned that the bank statements had arrived on Saturday. But my calls were not answered, so I sent you an email. She laughed. Hehe! She asked what time the visit to EENT was on Wednesday. I turned to ask the Carer; he had taken a seat in the foyer and was on his mobile. He had no idea; neither of us had at that moment. Luckily, I guessed I was to be there for 15:15hrs. I found it was right later on in the day. Smug-Mode-Apopted.
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We got in the flat, and the lad was off in a couple of minutes of giving me the medication, and I got the food put away and planned today’s meal as I did so. The bread rolls are a little hard in places for Toothache Tiffany to cope with. I’ll just take care and suck them a little first. Hahaha! 
I tried to read the label on what I thought was Danish blue cheese; I think it said Rueberg or summat like that. I looked up French cheeses on Google to find a similar name. AH! Gorrit! Roquefort. It said on a further search: Roquefort is a powerful, unctuous blue cheese made from raw sheep’s milk. It delivers an intense, salty punch up front that quickly mellows into a rich, buttery creaminess. The deep blue-green veins provide a sharp, tangy, and slightly spicy finish with deep, earthy undertones.
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TASTE RATING: 8.3/10
Oh, sod-it! I’ve deleted the wrong meal snap,
and put an old one on here. Huh! Fool!
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Inchie: Monday 20th July 2026

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MONDAY 20th JULY 2026
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I woke around 04:00hrs, and thoughts instantly coursed through my brain. Three hours later, I was still in the same position, fretting over one unsolvable problem. Before I could get to the root of the issue, others would flood my mind at once. A merry-go-round of unwanted fears & hassles. Then the new ailments started to be recognised. When I tried to get up, dizziness, blurred eyesight, and loss of balance were joined by a sore throat and a tickly cough. I’m sure it’s just a chill.
Carer Andrew (Leave-the-pot & mobile) arrived. As I got up again, the right lower leg was massive compared to the left. Took this snap of the pins. Then, as I moved, Arthritis in the shoulder, back, left knee, right arm and neck!
Medications were given. Short on Phorpain Gel & Barrier Cream. So, I asked the Carer to make sure some are ordered, the same as I asked him on Friday & Sunday, as we are down to the last tubes of barrier cream and a pot of scar cleaner. No reply again. Asking him if it had been ordered prompted an answer: “I don’t know!”
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I was certainly feeling more at ease with the balance problems now. But the various forms of Arthritis were all words. Can’t win them all!
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NL cleaning was done by the Carer, so I got the mini-hallway vacuumed.
Then got the uneaten meal from yesterday warming in the crockpot, and made a pot of instant porridge, & ate it. 
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The stomach started rumbling again. But nothing as bad as it has been for the last two days. No Accifauxa, all over quickly, with little cleanup to be done.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP!
I dropped the toilet roll; it bounced off the floor cabinet and hid behind the WC!
I reached down with the picker and clouted my already hurting right shoulder on the raising bars of the seat. I gave a broad grin and laughed it off.
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The agency worker arrived to take the Warfarin INR blood sample.
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I decided to get the new £850 plus fitting it up computer started. This proved a longer battle than usual this morning.
It took me over half an hour.
It used to load a Pica screen, followed by a Dell screen, first, and then within ten minutes, it got through to opening Windows. Today, nine tries were needed.
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While waiting and praying, I remembered I hadn’t phoned Warden Deana, as she wanted me to straight away, as soon as the bank statements arrived. Naturally, with my luck, as things usually do, I arrived on a Saturday (this time) or on a Sunday. So I couldn’t get in touch with the wardens. I got no reply to my three phone calls. So sent an email to inform her that I had come.
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Carer Andrew returned. He tried ringing her, but no luck. Then I asked him to ring the opticians for me. So I could keep them updated about the Cataract prepping and treatment, and apologise for not remembering to do so earlier. No answer there either. Then, I spotted the wrong date on the battery-powered calendar clock. I’ve asked the Carer to please see if it is correct each time they call. Only Mirza has done so. Carer Ejaz would have noticed and would have updated it each time he called. But, of course, the Carers have stopped Ejaz calling on me. Why? Who knows? Who is disappointed? Me.
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I took a snap of the pretty, gorgeous-looking sky from the kitchenette window.
Are those contrails, or naturally forming clouds?
Just asking. Hehe!
I snapped the houses in front of the flats, and the phone rang. I thought it might be the Warden, Angel Julie, or the NCC regarding the bank statements. Wrong number!
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Another downfall in concentration, with strange with-it moments in between. Started going out-of-it regularly. Not sure if I was having seizures, but very little acidic tastes in the gut, throat or mouth. One moment with it, the next floating. Both eyes much worse later on. This was concerning, as short-term memory mangled, cleared and returned to being not there.
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On Carer Mizra did last call. Details I can’t recall?
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I found this snap of the day’s meal, Tuesday.
Fish sticks, a can of peas, Tiriyaki sauce-
drenched potatoes. No-butter buttered
Cheest bread rolls, with sliced tomatoes.
RATING: 7.6/10.
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Inchies Memories of Starmers Short Stay

/ Inchie / 1 Comment

MEMORIES OF STARMERS SHORT STAY
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Cart Starm StPeter– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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STARMERS PLANS?
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