Inchie, Mon 2nd Mar 26: Mr Fooey.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sister Jane & hubby Pete, many, many years ago.
With my favourite one of their clowder of cats.
But I’d like to start with Tabitha.
Seen here checking over my retirement pension details in the kitchen. Hehe! The runt of the litter, very small, delicate, beautiful, friendly, and curious, so curious.
The first to pass away in the new home they had moved into. I always remember Tabitha. 💟
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Here is Inchie, with Mr Foooey, Foooey to his fans. The poor thing was nearly blind, deaf and arthritic.
But I never saw him get nasty, no matter what was going on around him. I recall on one of my visits, to show off my new Diahatsu 4-track car… as I left, as I  opened the car door, there was Mr Fooey on the passanger seat purring away. How he got in was initially a mystery. On the way home, I realised the roof window was open. He was younger then.
Such a gentle animal in every way. I still miss him as much as my Cyril and Lady.
It was great visiting Jane. They had Big Albert, Dainty Tabitha, Poorly Mr Fooey, Arthur, and Cryrille.
But it’s Mr Fooey’s memory day today.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

MR FOOEY

🤎
Sister Jane, seen here, clipping Fooeys ever-growing tufts. He rather enjoyed this.
End of my visit, handing Mr Fooey back to Jane.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So long ago, but I reckon it must have been a
day!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie: Sunday 1st March 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Errors, Dark, Dank Depression Darius, Tumbles,  Frustrationes, Mistakes, Embarrassments, Humiliations, Explosion, etc.
Each of the daily emotionally challenging visitors above seems to be an embedded, permanent aspect of Inchie’s daily life. (Well, I say life, life, that may be an extended pretence for his existence & struggles as he continues to survive, wondering what for & why.) Inchie can’t recollect the word he was going to use at this precise moment. Today’s main offenders were:
Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and 
Depression Darius. Much of the day’s events will be missing or brief due to the inordinately long time it took to implement countermeasures after the explosion. I used the word explosion here to catch your attention. Hehe! 
Not to mention the pain caused to Bad-Back-Brenda, Fractured Knee Frank, and a new head injury incurred when sorting out the after-effects of the calamity.
Hope that got you wanting to know more with bated breath? The clean-up operation took me over three hours! With another hour & a half
worth of help from the Carer on three of his calls. The entire flat has a sweet, pungent whiff floating about this morning, seventeen hours after the incident was cleaned up.
The volatile liquid covered the whole kitchen floor… more later, in between the usual boring stuff I pen.
Have I whetted your appetite for the story?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A lousy night’s sleep, broken waking, worrying, nodding off, waking, worrying, farting, nodding off, waking, belching, Shaking Shoulder Shirley belting away, nodded off, woken up this time by Twitching Neck Ted, fell asleep…. Enough of that.

Ejaz arrived, medications given, a full-body check, Phorpain gelled, toes and ankles creamed and medicated. Fresh socks put back on. 

Care Mizra called. Pouch checked & emptied. Painkillers and Peptac given. I mentioned the NCC email needing clarification at a council link. He got it up and led me through filling it in. Which was great. Had he not been helping, there were times, if I’d tried to do it on my own, I’d have made errors. Saved the day, got it done. Thanks, Mizra!

Although I didn’t realise it at the time, had I done so, hours and hours of painful, Accifauxpa-inducing cleaning up the mess could have been avoided.
Which verifies my rotten luck, I’m always getting up to investigate noises; was it the tao overflowing, the water alarm, had something fallen over, etc. and always (but not this time, Oh, no! I could spit) check!

NOW, THE HAPPENINGS BEGIN!
As Mizra departed, I thought I heard a noise, similar to when someone doesn’t fully shut the door, and as they opened the foyer door to the lift area, the flat door slammed shut in the draft. It was just like that sound, so I didn’t even give it much thought. I was getting back into doing the Ode for the blog. 
A mistake that cost me so much angst, pain, and took me hours to clean up… As I stood up, about an hour later, to make a brew, I could smell something but not identify it. To the kitchenette door and stopped so suddenly, I dropped the walking stick. All I could see in the kitchen was what I thought was water covering 80% of the floor! A panic came… I started shuddering and shaking, but knew that I needed to turn off the tap, which meant walking into the deep water. So I did. Walking stickless in my haste. One step into the kitchen, I saw that the tap was not running. I looked up at the ceiling for signs of incoming water, but there were none. Then the smell hit me, and I felt giddy. I realised then that it was bleach. I looked at where I’d left the 5-litre container of thick bleach, seeing it on the floor, burst open. I thought casually as I recalled then, ‘Well, that’s me in the shit – Again!’
Damned good job that I had so many rolls of kitchen towels at hand. I threw them into the water as best I could to help soak up the bleach. Then foolishly stepped forward to get the paper to go all the way into the kitchen, and all but slipped over on the thick bleach. I used about five kitchen rolls’ worth of paper and intended to give it a few minutes, then see if it was safe to add more paper. Then realised that my Kagoule and dressing gown had made contact with the bleach! They were rotting away as I looked at them. I strangely thought this could make a horror movie that people would believe, Hehe!
BUT IT GOT WORSE!
I withdrew from the battleground into the wet room, tore off my dressing gown and Khagoule, and placed them in plastic bags for the rubbish chute.

Had a rinse, and got another dressing gown on, as I did, there must have been some bleach dripped onto the floor, which my foot found and Whoopsiedangleplop, down I went, oddly enough, catching and activating my alarm wristlet as I crumpled onto the shower chair. Struggling up onto my feet again, I heard the NCC monitor controller speaking. Went to the room and said I just had a tumble setting the alarm off at the same time. But, no. I explained about the bleach, and she asked ARE YOU INJURED – No! “We can do nothing about your water. Wait until a Carer comes. When is one due?” About 2-hours. If it is a leak, call our maintenance or repairs.
Thank you, kindly, [Tut], I rang off.

Back to the kitchen and spread some more paper towels to help soak up some of the bleach, left it for a few minutes, then went back to gather what I could into waste bags.
Have another go with fresh towelling, and then I began the slow, painful job of mopping and rinsing out the mop often. This involved rinsing the mop in the sink with cold water, then using the wetroom tap to part-fill the bucket for another pass over the floor. Naturally, the bucket needed to be rinsed after each use. Using a small jug to get the water from the sink to the bucket. The smell got to me again, and I kept feeling a bit giddy. I did this six times in all. I had opened the windows. This snap on the right was how it looked on the fifth attempt. I was in a lot of pain by then. Back, shoulder and a new bruise on my head. As I collected the last of what I could, I had to leave the areas between the cupboards, the stove, and the fridge; it was just too painful to get down that far. I filled three more big bags with the bleached, covered towels, bringing the current total of eight bags taken to the refuse chute. I pressed on with mopping the kitchen, but that bleach wouldn’t come out at all, without a fight.

On the bright side, it cleaned up my fingernails nicely. Even if it did ruin my new dressing gown, slippers and Khagoule, all waste-shutting with a few words RIP style proffered as I sent them 12 stories down in the chute, to the big bins below.
I only bought you both a month ago,
It’s so sad to see you have to go,
Hope it doesn’t hurt you, though,
When you land twelve floors below!

Carer Ejaz finally arrived, and I told him of how my blog-writing time had been further deprived. Showed him these photos and told him of what I’d been through, the time lost, the pain, and the frustration. Yet, amazingly, nae astoundingly, nae, mind-bogglingly, a miracle… had not dawned or visited me, yet! Yes, I was angry, a smidgeon sorry for myself, maybe. There was certainly an inkling of self-sympathy lurking in my mind.
But when the air had cleared, the blood had bled, the pains subsided, and Ejaz stuck into helping, and the kitchen was beginning to look clearer and safer, I had a short, curt visit from,

When I sat down after Ejaz had departed, I anticipated falling into the wonderfully welcoming arms of Sweet Morpheus. But, No! Fractured Knee Frank, Back-Ache Brenda, & Shuddering -Shoulder Shirley, kicked off at the same time. It was like someone turning a pain switch on, instant agony. I thought it was bad enough while doing the bending, but now it is worse than ever, as Victor Meldrew’s catch phrase went. I Do Not Believe It! When Ejaz returned for his last call, he had planned to tidy the kitchen, but didn’t. Why?
He recognised the state I was in purely pain-wise.

Ejaz took a snap of the little bruise on my head for his records at ICC. Then he made some instant mash, cheese with ketchup and sausage for my meal. Not wanting me to get up from 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. He even suggested I don’t move into the bed, rather stay where I am, the effort of climbing into bed he feared would set off the other ailments.
Also snapped shots of the view from the kitchen window for me, since he knows I like to take them for the blog. The Carers have been a treasure for me today. And how, why, did Deep Dark Depression Darius stay away? He did get one fleeting visit in, but was it worth his efforts? I think not. But I pray tomorrow that he keeps away.
Perhaps I was so busy, and in so much pain, he didn’t feel the need to get at me as much? Nae!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie: Saturday 28th February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today was poddling along without too much bother or hassle. Until I suddenly became tireded and weary to such a degree, I closed the computer and got down to have a kip on 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. And stayed there for the rest of the afternoon into the night. Then the morning. But… not nice, but could I get and stay asleep? No! Apart from the Carers, bless them, waking me up, I must have stirred dozens of times. But couldn’t get up. What a state!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I was woken up by Carer arriving. Surely he could see the state I was in? But insisted on asking me about the medications. When he handed them to me, the pot seemed a little bare.
But that is ementia for you, or me, or both of us. Hehe! No doubt it was correct & right, but due to my previously called Cognitive impairment, Diabetic Dementia, Vascular dementia, and now newly named Pre-Morbid Icogniscence Impairment, I tend to get things mixed up and wrong, misread, misunderstood, or confused. Especially in the state I was in this morning, well, most mornings.
I spent what seemed like frequent bouts of problem viewing in my mind. British Gas, Carers’ hours, the computer, Virgin Media, EE mobile bills, food ordering, Arithmaphobia & seizure recovery problems, and unsolved queries. An out-of-it-day.

Morning photos
The end car park mudslide!

Rainy day.

Much-loved by WordPress readers and bloggers is getting-on-a-bit (Doug’s) Andy. Full of character. He’s had a lot of medical treatments, some that scared us, but the lad came through again. Bless Him!

Morning brew.

One cloud in this photo looks almost ghostly to me. Is it an alien cloud containing the next universe’s seek & destroy vessels? Hehehe!

Ayup, the sunshines out!

Sun on its way now…
A closer shot…

Out a bit…

A final twinkle, as she does fade

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Looking suspiciously young and thin in this snap of his head? Wonder when it was taken? Ah, 2002!

TTFN

Inchie Today: Friday 27th February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Rainy Morning…
Later, a rainy morning…
Food Delivery
More sauces?
Did I say it was a rainy morning?
Rainy evening.
Not a good day, but I’m sick of moaning.
Realised I had not got help with filling in the NCC form online. Ejaz, I think he’s not coming this Saturday. I can’t ask Dilon, the lad can’t cope with many things, and this from would be as baffling to him as it is to me. I’ll ask him to wash the feet in the morning, and cream the toes. He’s doing the weekend, I think. 
Constipation Conrad again, massive torpedo style.
Cock-up, an order arrived. The trays of black bean & beef meals: two had split open, covering the other items in the bag with the sticky black bean sauce. That I just do not need and cannot afford, which, or remember ordering, added to the depth of .
I was pathetic at coping with things today. Self-loathing, frustrated and having silly thoughts.
A greenish raiony shot of the end car park late on.

Ah, a better shot later on.
I’ve just told a Carer about my struggle with ordering food. No reply, but he did tell me he could see a marker pen under the bed. Off he went, as I was saying how low I was feeling, no answer or comments as he disappeared through the doorway. I locked the door and felt worthless.
This black bean meal, yes, I ate the third of the meals; the others went in the bin. Messy, mess.
I thought it tasted nice, but couldn’t get the satisfaction it should have. Moaning again!

TTFNski, each 🤎
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Inchie Today: Thursday 26th February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Late, late getting to bed. about 6 hours, so it wasn’t too bad, it was just the waking up early got to me. Even worse was trying to force myself out of bed!
I seemed be having a mental battle with myself and my Alto Inchy. I knew I needed to get up early, despite the reason having drifted off into the ether. It may not have been Alto Inchy I was battling verbally with. It may have been Morbid Cogniscence Impairment Iris.
I kept telling her or him to sod-off and let me get up. Or, as we say it in Nottingham slang, gerrup.
I won in the end, but it was hard work. As I fumbled my way out of the hospital bed, a long-lasting escapade of wind from the rear end, which I, for once, diagnosed correctly, forewarned me that
 would be in control of the upcoming evacuation process. And expected it to be a hard job again. It was. I was still sitting there on the Porcelain Throne twenty minutes later when Carer Ejaz arrived. As he passed the wetroom door, I shouted through the partly opened door that I was sorry, but I’m trying to get rid of a rear-end torpedo, and the damned thing is stuck part of the way out. I didn’t get a reply. This made me think it might have been a Nurse coming in, not Ejaz. There was no rushing things along at all. Just too painful. So, I broke off the lump sticking out, cleaned myself and went into the front room. It was Ejaz.
I felt there was no risk of any unexpected restarting of any movement while I was being tended to.
Ejaz issued the medications. Then he took off the socks and creamed the toes and ankles. 

IK am now out of notes on the memory pad. So, have nothing to refer to, no memory prompt. I’d love to know why. I’m certain that last night I started a second page; I’d made so many notes. I searched through the pad, but found no more for Thursday.
Bafflement blends in so easily with me lately.

I’ll have to rely on my memory, oh, dearie me.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
MedPhorpainI think Ejaz also Phorpain-gelled the right shoulder   and the lower back . And colour-coded the urine pouch.

Morning rainy views.

The intercom rang, but it cut out quickly before I could press the open-door button. I went down and found that it was the Amazon man with the Asian biscuits.
I went down in the lift to let him in. He was getting in the lift as I was getting out, so I stayed in and went back up to my floor. I took the parcel off of him and went to get out of the lift…
Not sure how I managed it, butk the door closed to and I trapped my arm in it. Hey-Ho!

Sorry, not much on here, but my short-term memory is getting worse. Disappearing notes do not help.

Teatime, I went out to get the kettle and to marinate the food. 
The first effort turned out artistically. Tsk!
Made a better job on the second.

While it was cooking, I was back on the computer.

It all came to a halt. Gawd knows how long, or even if I can get it going again. I resigned from computing and got the meal served up.
Beef curry with Teryaki sauce and water chestnuts added. The curry was from a can, but it was okay. I thought that the Teriyaki sauce went well with it.
Dunking the bread in the liquid and eating ot with the Sourdough soft bread was so enjoyable.
Slurp!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Today was so different. Oh, did I mention the nurse coming to see me? Nice gal. All clear on the head and elbow wounds.
I still haven’t remembered to ask a Carer to help me with filling in the NCC questionnaire! Not that they would have time, mind you.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

This is the 3rd day my memory notes have gone AWOL!
I’m thinking I may be getting… I’ve forgotten the word now… Erm? I had it the second I was going to type it… But it ran away. They do that a lot nowadays. I’m waffling on in hope it comes back to me… Oh… when you think someone is trying to make things worse, get at you, tease you? I hope that when I get this posted, it comes back to me. I think I thought, I’ll add that to my word list as well.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

This is unbelievable in the extreme…
I got an email telling me my Asda order is coming on Friday between 2030 & 2130hrs. When the heck did I make that one? And for so late? But the contents are all stuff I buy regularly… I can’t prevent myself from feeling so low. Guilty, embarrassed, self-harrassed, and annoyed at myself. The help with this issue never arrived. The neurologist said they would get me help… or was it Age UK… maybe Social Services.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

This week has seen me feeling more and more depressed. I checked on the Asda site, and there was a massive order for the day & time as in the email.
At first, I considered doing an Ode about this, but soon realised it would do me no good. So, I won’t.
Or will I? No. No… I can’t forget these things despite my warped memory. Even the blog is taking far too long, and lack of a sleep pattern is not good. My Angel pointed this out to me. I don’t think I could cope without Jenny’s good nature and understanding.

– – – – – – – – – – –
Cheerie Bye
– – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie Today: Wednesday 25th February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I really don’t believe it!
Impossible, but true!
“I’m Not Complaining – just telling”
Today was busier than yesterday!
More cock-ups. More Confusion!
More Stress! More Pain!
Physically and Mentally!
So busy, and frustrating!

After yesterday’s mayhem and staying up for over 19hrs, I beat that today, with 22hrs.
It all started as I forced myself to wake up at 07:00hrs. Got the nocturnal Catheter bag off in haste, and stumbled my way to the wet room. This was not a good thing. I should have given myself time to catch my balance, but I didn’t. I can only blame myself.
I got a wobble in the hallway, grabbed the clothes airer to steady myself, and pulled at the Catheter as I caught it between the pipes. At the time, there was barely if any real pain, and I belatedly stopped to get my balance, and entered the room, and got my pants down, ready to sit down on thePorcelain Throne. The ecrement, in the form of a gigantic fat torpedo, started its escape straight away, but froze with a few inches of it outside. 
I applied as much pressure as I could. Possibly the biggest and hardest torpedo release of the year. Well, at least there’s no gooey mess to clean up for a change, I thought to myself. Then, putting the Germoloid cream on, I spotted a lot of blood on the tissue. Ah, that will be Haemorrhoid Harold suffering. Wiped it of, got the cream on and pulled up my protection pants.
Wahed got up and returned to the bed to get the pouch for emptying. Drained it into the Throne, as I turned to leave, I saw spots of blood on the floor where I’d been standing. Checked the rear end, only a tiny streak of blood… where had it come from? It baffled me.
I carried on into the kitchen and thought about putting the kettle on.
Carer Ejaz arrived. He Phorpain gelled the shoulder and back for me. Medications issued. We managed a mini-chinwag. I told him of the earlier bleeding.

As he left, I got the computer on. A little pain from Little Inchy started. I lifted my Kagoule to tighten the straps on the Catheter. The protection pants were more red than white. Back to the wet room to check things out. I thought it was, or must be, from the fungal lesion. A good clean-up, some Savlon on Little Inchy, changed the pants, and went back to the computer. Determined to get at least some of Tuesday’s blog started. The intercom flashed and sounded.
It was my Ocado order being delivered.
Blimey, I’d ordered a lot!
I took the many bags through to the kitchen. As I was about to start sorting out the food, I spotted droplets of blood on the floor! Back to the wetroom, and cleaned it up again. This time, as I cleaned things up, the pain from Little Inchy was more bothersome. I had a feel but the bleeding had almost stopped now. So, a wash and back to the kitchen. Got some good stuff in today.Cooking sauces, sourdough bread, coffees for the nurses, etc. No-butter, butter, Kenyan garden peas, Jaffa cakes, one for me, one for Jenny. and some daffodils. For Jenny🤎 of course, not for me. I’ll see if I can get them down to her later on. Just finished putting the stuff away, I got back on the computer…
The window cleaner arrived. He did a good, thorough job of cleaning the balcony windows for me. Paid him. Back to the computer.
Started working on CorelDraw, and the screen went dark. I grabbed the camera to record it – see photo on the left. ,
The door chime chimed. And in walked Matron. She asked some questions, but I really can’t remember what they were about. As she was getting ready to leave, she asked if anything was worrying me, and I mentioned the bleeding from Little Inchy. Embarrassment Time!
She investigated and said something I didn’t catch as we bade each other farewell. 

Back to the computer. Not for long, and the dark screen still showed. The mobile burst into life. It was someone from the Riverside Diabetic Clinic. Wondering why I had not gone to my appointment on Monday. No way could I remember making or getting an appointment with them. He’ll make a new one. I asked if I could be informed via email, please cause I have Premorbid Cogniscence Impairment. He said, “No problem. I thought that if he sent a letter, it might still be in the pile of unopened letters that I have.

Back again to the computer.
I wondered if I’d ever get rid of it, and what caused the dark screen to come on. As I was musing over this, and will I get it off and ever get the blog-catching-up started, let alone finished. And I don’t think I touched any keys, but the screen with CorelDraw on it reappeared. I was overjoyed, something good had happened… 
Then in walked two nurses! Attractive young things. They had come to check out my bleeding Little Inchy! Embarrassment time once more! I did what I did yesterday, since they were different nurses, and quipped that you might need these as I handed my glasses to the younger trainee nurse. Adding, you may need these to find it. Hahaha! It got a smile, if not a laugh. After inspecting the area, they cleaned it up. One said I also had a tiny cut on the penis. Probably caused by a tug on the tube and or during insertion. Well, she got that spot on. I must have happened when I had the Accifauxpas in the hallway. Then they moved the pouch from my left to my right leg. They took a look under the head wound plaster, all good.
They bade farewell, saying they would call again on Friday to check things. 

Back to the Computer… Tsk!
The man from the NCC, I think, arrived. So many things, questions I could not answer. These concerned my pensions and banking. He went through the files lying around, then had a quick look in the cases to find the details he needed. I know, well, I think I know they are in there somewhere. He rang the bank. They will send details, and I am to ring him when I get them. No idea what his number is. He rang someone else, the original pension company, I think, but not sure what the result was. Must have been a failure. He did his best. He said he would call next Friday.

Back to the Computer… Tsk! Tsk!
Then it got complicated…
Carer Manpreet arrived; she was doing the domestic role. She started. This might be out of order or sequence. I think she cleaned the microwave and cooker first. Then she took the washing down for me. Complications: Manpreet returned, telling me there are no washers available. Then mopped the kitchen floor. Went down to move the things into the dryer, but no dryers were available. Asked for the key fob so she could use the Winwood laundry. But ran out of time to fetch the dried laundry back. Said to ask the teatime carer to fetch it up. Again, no laundry was done fully. For six weeks now, it hasn’t been completed. No blame on previous Carers, they have to escort me on medical visits. Wednesdays are the only days I get an extended visit. Not enough time to do things. Then Carere Ejaz arrived to do a medicine-only call. I was getting rather more than just confused.

Back to the Computer… Tsk! 
Another different Carer arrived to do the teatime call. When I asked her to fetch the washing up, she insisted she didn’t have time. Fair enough, it’s how it is.
I said I’d call Jenny. I hated doing it and bothering her, but she is a genius at getting me sorted out and giving good, honest advice. The Carer said she’s do it, but needed the key fob. It was good of her to change her mind. She returned with the bag of clothes, creased and crammed into the laundry bag, and left it in the hallway where most of them will be hung.
She had to shoot off, bless her. 

I unpacked the clothes, straightened them as best I could, and hung up the long shirts and dressing gowns, then sorted the socks into pairs, a difficult job as they are diabetic socks that, for some reason, have L’s left and R’s Right and need sorting. The eyes were doing their usual evening-time blurring. I was tired, so tired and depressed with going so long without the help that I needed. I’ve not had a shower for months.
Jenny emailed me with sound advice. We spoke on the phone, and she offered to fetch the laundry back for me if the Carer rings her before going down to the laundry room. I felt guilty again. Bless her🤎

Back to the Computer… Tsk! Tsk!

The intercom sounded; it was Amazon delivering yet another computer keyboard and a mouse. This one had the keys marked incorrectly, too! All a part of mystery from Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Dank Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Cataract Katie, Lymphorrhoea Leslie, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Grim Reaper Pete, Diabetic Derek, & Memory Mangling Malcolm. Along with Whoopsiedangleplops, Fata Morgana, hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae,   that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, and supreme example of oligarchs, Amazon.

I made a start on this blog at 02:20hrs!

I made the nosh and left it to marinate. Sweet & sour chicken ready meal. With added water chestnuts, red chillis, and Tiryaki & Gung Po sauce. Hope to get to eat it by 05:00hrs. See how fast I can type.

I took these snaps of these dark, dank, oddly-coloured Kodak-Tim-2 photographs of the night sky.

Ended up getting my head down at 05:00hrs.
Woken about 0715hrs by the arrival of Carer Ejaz

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Fings ain’t wot they used to be,
When I was younger and pain-free,
I’ve lost logicality, gained inadquecy,
Working my way into docility…
Depression in abundancy,
So many are worse off than Inchie,
I’m deaf, bad-sighted, & pilarlicky,
Thanks to all who’ve helped me🤎,
Helped me keep some dignity!

TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 

Inchie Today: Tuesday 24th February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today was yet another mind-floating, uncertain, confusing day. In which my mind took more detours, made more mistakes, deviations, took repeated vacations, miscalculations, while finding time to worry about so many things that are all in abbeyanbce. 
The computer is being sorted by Asif. Full of uncertainties. And the Oligarchs: Virgin Media’s memorable name. British Gas, the promised engineer to get a meter reading, is not showing up – I’ve been trying to sort this one out for years since they last had a reading. The NCC man is coming today to check on all my financial situations, so he can pass or say nae to the Carer’s extra hours appeal. The nurse is coming to look at the top of my head cuts, only a few of them. She may also change or fit a new . It feels like it is about time for it to be done. But then again, what do I know? Very little with any certainty. A lot of self-doubt and ever-present suspicions that what I am doing might be wrong. Hehe! 

I’m going to use photos as a prompt. Why?
The reminders on the notepad seemed to have gone off into the ether… Again!
Got up late, took these

Later from the balcony

End car park.

Getting used to the warped keyboard now.

The sun is on its way down.

Almost gone, nightie-night!

Eerie-looking end of the car park.

The sky is now blue.
Beautiful distant shot.

Front car park.

There is a reason that today’s meal looks sort of radioactive tonight, well, a few.
: Refused to let me read the instructions on the ready meal packet. Spy-Glass-Gloria didn’t help either.
MY BEST GUESS at deciphering the cooking time was 8 minutes. Too late to help, but Carer Ejaz later checked, and it was 3 minutes, not 8. I put too much Leicester cheese on top of the pie.
I also used the wrong Tiryaki sauce. The one I used was for marinating.
The pie blew up in the microwave. But the mess did not get through the cheese; there was far too much of that on top. The burnt bits blended in with the gravy, potatoes, and cheese. It was not too hard on , as long as I moved each spoonful to the left of my mouth to chew, and it took some chewing, too!
However, I enjoyed it!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

ARRIVADERCI
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie: Monday 23rd February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
And I thought the last two days were busy!
Today was busier than both!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
At least I can read the memory pad notes easier, cause I’m doing this in the morning. (Tuesday morning) The eyes have not begun to blur badly. They will later.

Not knowing what was to come, I started the day with the help of a visitation. The first hour or so was…well, fantastic!
Catheter Pouch off. Bins sorted. Ablutions were tended to. It was in charge this time. But the pain and effort needed didn’t bother me at all, not with in attendance. While I was almost playfully fighting to get the torpedo to flow, I remembered the Cancer-phoo-test-kit. So I stopped before the torpedo appeared to fetch the kit.
I tried to force the submarine out again. Again, it didn’t bother me, with Horis on site.
All went well, and I got it done, bagged and in the envelope and sealed. Just as the intercom burst into life, Carer Ejaz rang to be admitted. And as I left the wetroom after checking it for taps running, I met him in the mini-hallway.
Ejaz checked the sample and took it with him to post it for me. Dealt out the medications. Phorpain gelled my sMedPhorpainhoulder, & lower back and . Which also helped with Arthur Itis, and’s pains eased a little. I thanked him, and off he went, throwing me a ‘Tara’ as he left.

Then things went a little out of sync, and things got busier, much busier. In fact, scarpered post-haste, and at the same time
Although the git stayed with me for the rest of the day. I had so many other things to sort or try to, as you will see, the cacophony of cruel interruptions had an inexhaustibility never known before. My blogging efforts were abandoned. They flowed in one after another, unintermittedly, back-to-back, incessantly… But I’m Not Complaining! Just mentioning.

ONE: 25 minutes; (Welcomed) My sweetheart nurse arrived to check the state of my top-of-the-head wound. Replaced the dressing and said it could come off next week. Not the head, the plaster padding. Hehe! She also checked Little Inchie’s bleeding lesion; now that the Catheter has been relocated back to the left leg. At this point, from somewhere, by humour came forth as she was about to take down my fluffy protection pants, I quipped: Well, if you’re going to wash or medicate it, first you’ve got to find it…’ adding quickly, ‘Would you like to use my glasses or my spy glass?‘ I loved it when she burst of with a smile followed by a giggle. Hope she passes that one on to the other nurses. Haha!

TWO: 7 minutes; (Welcomed tentatively)
The agency INR Warfarin gal arrived, took the blood samples within 7 minutes, and left.
A Speedy Gonzalesess?

THREE: 7 minutes; Jenny 🤎 emailed about the Computer man. Always helpful that gal. 🤎

FOUR: 10 minutes; Ejaz made a call.

FIVE: 12 minutes; Someone from the Doctor’s surgery telephoned me on the landline. Saying I ought to ask a Carer to help me buy a head shaver, to avoid all the bangs and cuts I keep getting on my bonce.

SIX: 9 minutes; Someone else rang from the Doctor’s surgery, with the results of the INR Warfarin blood test and new dosages. Easy-peasy, 1½ each day.

SEVEN: 2hrs and a bit: It was a landline call from someone other than the person who rang earlier. We lost connection a few times, but the lady was patient each time and rang back. Bless her. I didn’t make a note of who it was, but gathered that the surgery is setting up a geriatrics panel to monitor old foggies like me, and see if anything can be done to assist us. She asked if I had any difficulties. 
Well, of I went, verbally, about the problems and things I can’t cope with. On and on I rambled. I didn’t want to miss the chance to let them know how I am struggling. Extra Carers’ hours and why. The laundry is not getting done, and I have had to bring it back up for three weeks now. Explaining that it is not the Carers’ fault. With so many hospital and clinic visits they have to go with me on, there’s no time left for laundry or cleaning. I mentioned my walking into the road having a seizure when we went to the Dentist. I got a little tongue-tied trying to recall what I wanted to say to give a proper picture of how I’m struggling. At times, I had to cope as  
The lady was kind and bore with my situation.🤎 
I told her of my seizure at the ENT. Also, of my escapade getting back from the Neurologist’s visit. Falling over in the tram, yobboes aggression in the slab square. I got the wrong bus and had to walk all the way back up Winchester Street Hill, stopping at least ten times to ease the pain in my chest. Dropping my mobile when the Carer at the flat was waiting for me to return. A stranger who helped me find the bus. Verbals from yobboes as they drove past. I assume I must have mentioned other things as well. Oh, yes, I think I mentioned that, although it has not been diagnosed, I do not need anyone to do that, I have developed Arithmaphobia. This is causing me financial problems. And most important to me is that it is handicapping me from doing my blog, which was just about the only thing keeping me going.
6 months ago, it took me an hour to do the template; now, we are talking 3 hours minimum. Depression is a result. Seizures in a day can range from 0 to 12. The shorter ones are taking so much longer to recover from. And recovering can take so long, during which I dare not stand up. I just wait until the vision and confusion go away. Then gingerly test out the balance; often, well, usually, I can judge it accurately. This brought to mind the time I woke up after having a nocturnal seizure and decided to stay where I was to give myself time to recuperate. But this happened during a time when Trotsky Terence was in control of the back passage and innards. I felt the gurgling and pressure on my rear end and got up quickly to the Porcekain Throne to avoid the often-occurring premature leakage. As I stood up, I collapsed as if I didn’t have any legs, landing on a waste bin, then down onto the floor with a thud. Pressed the alarm wristlet, Warden arrived, and paramedics were summoned. Off to the hospital, eight bones in the hand and wrist, five in the left knee. Heart failure 3 weeks later, while still in the hospital.
Also, a fear of opening letters, and I  have a mini-stack of them at my side now. I’m waiting for a Social Worker to call, and then I can show them. 

Ah, a breather… Erm, No…

EIGHT: 16 minutes:
Blooming ‘eck, hello-hello & Crikes!
Message from the Bank Manager!
Wanting me to arrange a visit, and take a Carer with me, as I did on the last one. No cause or reason given. Just said it was ‘Important & Urgent’. I tried to find out what it was for, but he was tight-lipped.

I’m Worried Now.

Finally, around 23:00hrs, I got something to eat.I dropped the tray in the kitchen!
Did I cry? No!
But I swore & cursed a bit!
Made do with some crispy nibbles.
I couldn’t eat biscuits cause of
Tired, weary, confused, worried,
The eyesight was fading fast.
Clambered gingerly into the bed.
Had to get up again to check if
I’d left the taps or the cooker on!

Then
kicked off. I realised that I’d not

put the night bag on when I felt the
flow-back pain. Got out of bed.

Grabbed the night pouch and
did some more swearing as I
got it fitted. All the time,

was
reminding me of past and 
present worries. Huh!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski, Cheers!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– –

Inchie: Sunday 22nd February 2026


– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

First snap of the day.

Ejaz called, med’s, body check, feet, ankles, headwound were checked. Phorpain gelled the lower back, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Catheter Cathy’s top strap’s scars. Fractured-Knee-Frank, above my testicles, and Arthur Itis/Cartilages. He played with the vacuum cleaner. Hehehe! Made his report on his mobile phone. Still fasting, so no nibbles were offered.

Tons to catch up on with the blog, I’ve never been so far behind. Well, I have been, but that was when I tumbled and spent 3 weeks in hospital with Fractured-Frank. And fingers and wrist. Then, I got heart failure in the third week. But I got back home, many people have not got a home now – it’s been missiled, or bombed. So, I’m not complaining.

Had a lot of trouble with CorelDraw. Hours lost trying things to get it to work, I kept nipping out to take a photo, refresh my mind and calm down, then try again, sorting out, and trying to work out what I’d done wrong to cause it to play up.

From the balcony.

Straight ahead.

Back in and attention given to the CorelDraw problem.
Couldn’t sort it, so I turned everything off and left it for a while before rebooting again.

Waste bins were collated into one bag. Had a wash and used the Porcelain Throne. One massive but soft torpedo slowly ejected. Used almost a full toilet roll, cleaning up afterwards, and then remembered I hadn’t done the Cancer Phoo Sample taking. 
I took the paperwork out of the envelope and stuck it up on the TV screen. This should remind me next time I go to pass my stomach’s contents, to get the test kit thingy done. It didn’t, cause I didn’t go again today.
I must remember tomorrow. 

Carer Ejaz did the medday call. Issued the medications and quickly reviewed the instructions, which I could not read with my reading glasses or a spyglass. Glaucoma, Gladys, and Cataract Katie will soon get dimmer, as they do each day. I am not complaining! Ejaz said if I get it done in the morning, he would post it off for me. (The Test Sample)

I must get back to the CorelDraw problem.
I got the computer on.
All I achieved was more bemusement.
Went for a hobble around again, with my blank, used-up mind still searching for something I could try. Another wander around to take snaps.

Back on the balcony.
Blimey, three vehicles all nearly parked between the chevrons! The mudslide is receding.

Computer rebooted. Although CorelDraw was miraculously letting me change colours again, everything was slow and jumpy. I expect its end soon. As I do with myself. I’m not complaining. Hehe!
But I am now!
Depression-Darius-Deepend, when I opened Excel. I got so many messages, of which I could only understand one of them.
Which of thee files do you wish to use: eight to pick from. I did not know which one, so I left the side pop-up on and started to record my HC figures on the one in the main part of the screen.
The panel on the left flashed, orrahter blinked, and a small window came up. With options to choose from. No idea which one to go for, I just clicked on and pressed continue. At first, it returned me to the screen as it was on, and I thought I’d cracked it now…
But, no!

I’m not complaining, just saying.
The computer and Google thingies came up, telling me I do have enough space on the hard drive to store them. Select another drive location (or something like that).  
Now I was pretty well pee’d off, and clicked ‘do not save’… a risky gamble I know. As I closed it down.

Ejaz made the teatime call. I could not believe how fast the time had gone, and so little had been done.
I’m not complaining!
Medications given; back and shoulder pain gel applied. Peptac, and he reminded me to do the phoo test in the morning if I use the Throne. He moved the letter in front of the TV to ensure a final reminder.

Then I opened Excel again.
It worked as it normally does, and looking in the file, the page had been saved. I had no intention of getting too happy about this, knowing my luck.
I’m not complaining!

I found some used pictures to use here.
Semi-faux-content, but confused, with fingers crossed, I pressed on with updating the Excel Health Check log page. And got it done without any obvious errors of hassle. Then stopped a few seconds before seeing that it had saved the new file. Then I put a high-memory graphic into CoralDraw to see if the computer could save that one… No! Then tried it in Corel Paint, but the computer didn’t have enough memory to even load it.
I’m not complaining, Just Saying!
.

Took this snap.
Ten minutes later.
These below.
Somehow I double-clicked?

Soft Irish stew with added mushrooms,
Gung-Po sauce. With soft bread and
a soft lemon fool dessert.
Toohache Tiffany appreciated this.

Evening, All Snap.
Some bad, one decent.

Shame…

TTFNski!

Inchie Today: Saturday 21st February 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was unquestionably out-of-it, more than with it, this stuttering, confused, mind-bending Saturday.
A mind-bending Saturday? Why? 
I’ll try to recall things, but many will be missed, hopefully. Cause they are bound to involve failings, Seizures, daydreaming, going off-track, and various minor calamities with the Catheter (again!), glaucoma and cataract problems, and other bits of depression,  moaning and self-pity. Which will not be missed or of interest. It is now Sunday morning at… no! Sunday afternoon just gone, 13:30hrs, and I’ve only just started this blog. I do not want to moan. 
No doubt the serious bits may get a mention, Ahem!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I stirred back into pretend life at 07:20hrs. Jumped out of the bed and did a double back-flip, while yodelling and picking my nose, landing on one foot and started shadow boxing… Haha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Grumpliy, noticing that during the 5 hours of unbroken sleep I’d enjoyed, the Catheter had only amassed about an egg cupful of urine from the bladder. More problems to cope with, but I’m just saying, not moaning.
The following four lines on the memory pad were unreadable, but it was probably miserable stuff, moaning again, so not to worry.
It was more painful than usual. Maybe she’d been giving me some hassle while I was sleeping, and that was why she was more stinging than usual? I’m not moaning! I then sorted the three waste bins into one refuse sack and bound it. And took a couple of snaps of the glum morning view of the skies, with little puffy clouds on the horizon.

Carer Ejaz arrived, I greeted him, and we had a careful, slow dance. I’m not joking. We are both bonkers, maybe. And Ejaz took it steady, ’cause he knows how painful my shoulder’s been lately. Ejaz called the District Nurses again about the Catheter. He is fasting on his second day until evening; then I can offer him some nibbles of his choice andMedPhorpain an iced coffee later. Ejaz issued the morning medications, tablets, and medicine. Then got some Phorpain Gel on my right shoulder. Checked the scuff marks underneath the Catheter straps, and applied some of the acne & eczema cream on them.
Also, put some under the massive, seal-like but wobbly belly fold that I’ve gained since not being able to get out much. Well, at all without a Carer.
But, I’m not moaning, just saying!
Ejaz then checked if I’d done my teggies, olive-oiled my earholes, and used the Anusol or Germoloid creams on Harold’s Haemorrhoids yet. I had probably written four lines of undecipherable bad writing on the notepad. Oh yes, I’d also undergone a visit tothe Porcelain Throne.
I’d have thought I’d remember that without being prompted. I can now.
It was a right gooey, sticky affair. But at least it was back to a brown shade.

Started the Friday blog well late in the day. I went to make a brew of Glengettie, which I’m sure of doing. Not sure if I actually made one. Why? The haziness dawned. I started on the computer and found myself doing CorelDrawing and Painting, in between other things. I got myself in a right pickle, and forgot all about this blog needing to be done. Hours later, it dawned on me, at the same time Darius dawned. Nothing had changed from when I was mindlessly, but contentedly making mistakes in CorelDraw, doing things that didn’t need doing until Sunday… I think.
Then, I lost interest in doing anything, and… this is true. I woke up in bed hours later. I can’t even recall getting into bed, and it is a painful job for me to do, and I still can’t remember doing it. I was all over the place, mind-wise, for a while as I lay there trying to figure of why I was in bed.
Getting out-of-it is another struggle. I resisted at first, then realised the Nurse may be calling, and feared she may have been while I was in the land of nod and would not hear the doorchime. Unsure, I got up, painfully, grabbed ,
and went to the front door to see if any notes had been put through the letterbox. A Royal Mail envelope lay on the floor; it was from HMG, and I left it there. I’d not taken with me.

I got back on the computer and, instead of starting the blog, I went on Amazon and placed an order! I found this reminder on Sunday afternoon, when I saw an email telling me I’d ordered some stuff. I investigated : what the heck had I ordered now? I went to the Amazon site.
Paper table-bowls? What? I’ve got dozens of them in the kitchen cupboard. I need help.
Bombay potatoes; Well, that’s okay, I’m down to my last packet.
5litres of bleach? I am aware that bleach nowadays is weaker. I know this because when I pour some washing-up liquid & bleach into the mug or mugs to soak them, they used to come out sparkling clean. Now, it takes half a bottle for it to be effective. But what made me think this was going to work? And per litre, it’s twice the cost of the ones I was using? Dad used to call me doollaly (Not in possession of all one’s mental faculties), and now I am doollaly!

Then, wandering off topic again, I put the clothes that weren’t yet properly dried in the wetroom, leaving the bank-balance-buggering immersion heater on to get them dried. Hanging on the shower rail. I used the long picker upperer to get them up. Being in the wet room reminded me of something… I still had not completed the Phoo test kit for returning to the Bowel Cancer Programme at the Queen’s Medical Centre Hospital. Fancy me forgetting something!

The day was almost gone, and after Ejaz departed after his teatime call, I got the meal prepared. All soft and edible with anyone like me, short of teeth, with those remaining chipped, cracked, loose, painful, and no doubt missing their fallen-out or pulled-out neighbours.
Instant potatoes made with no-butter butter, sea salt, and red Leicester cheese, in the bowl, bashed and mashed together. I added Teriyaki sauce on top.  
To leave it a while so the sauce seeps down into the spuds.
I closed the computer down while crying and cursing myself for not being with it enough to realise I hadn’t started the blog yet. Ran a scan check and went to put the spuds in the microwave. Then got some bread, pickled green tomatoes, and red peppers (I had to ask Ejaz to open the jar for me earlier). Looked and smelled so good. Added the last of the sausages and microwaved the pots & hostages. No, Sausages. Sorry, Herr Keir Starmer. Hahaha!

A last snap of the amazing, most baffling, out of touch, disoriented, out-of-the-loop, abstracted, inattentive, sidetracked, absent-minded Saturday of this year. The sky in this photo turned out a smidge brown?
I’m not moaning, just saying!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TTFN