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Ode Of Thoughts
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Tuesday 11th August 2026
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06:15hrs: I bounded out of bed, took off my nocturnal Catheter as I leapt over the armchair, Tarzan-yodelling as I landed and ran off 200 press-ups. Followed by 100 squats, 150 bar lifts, 200 56lb arm curls, and 500 toe touches…
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Alright, I’ll start again, then…
I stirred, coughed, and the pains from my bruised coccyx forced out a little argh under my breath. Bent down to take off the night Catheter bag, and Dizzy Dennis and Arthure Itis joined in the assault. I decided a wash, teggie cleaning and shave was needed. As I hobbled to the wet room, the knees and long, toenail-nailed toes, which had curled under the toe and caught on the carpet, produced some bad language from me. Shaking-Shoulder-Shirlely kicked off, and Lost Balance Belinda almost had me over as I went into the wet room, nearly dropping my three-pronged walking stick. Preparing the shaving tackle, I was laughing off the pain, and an evacuation from the rear-end started of its own accord; this proved to be one 
of the oddest visits I’ve ever had. I was so lucky, yes, lucky, that I was only 3 feet away from the Throne, and got down just in time. A sluggy wet mega-squirt or two, and it was all over… I thought. Seconds later, every blocked. The second coming came so slowly and needed so much input to force it out. And there was a lot of it. A little bleeding from my haemorrhoids, but not as much as yesterday. I remember thinking, ‘Thank heavens that’s done and dusted. I opted to do ablutions in a different pattern this morning. I cleaned where I could reach below the stomach, dried it off, and applied Barrier cream to the lower regions. I went to fetch a pair of PPs. Struggled a while to get them on, then did my teeth, and washed where I could reach,h bodywise. I started to shave.
I’d got the lather on, and blow-me-down, another evacuation started! Yet it was a rock-Hard torpedo job.
Three different performances. Hehehe!
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View of the mobile aids storage area. Formerly known as the balcony. Walking frame, walking sticks, wheelchair, square walker, and old 3-wheeled one.
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Iceland order arrived.
More…
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Afternoon, Carer Ejaz came. We caught the bus down to Mansfield Road, and it was agony! Each time the bus went around a corner or hit the rocks and cracks on the road, I had to lift myself up quickly to avoid pressurising the bruised coccyx, which brought on the arthritis in both knees! I’m rushing now, leaving a lot of stuff out, because it is so late; the last caller just arrived. You’ll understand, maybe, when I write with a fresher outlook to finish this blog. Sorry.
We walked to the ATM, and Ejaz helped by watching me to make sure I didn’t cock it up and lose my card (this has happened several times). Called at the Continental Foods Store; I’d have written the name, but I forgot what it was, but remembered what it was in the morning… well, afternoon. Ozen.
I forgot to take the Kodak Tim 2 with me, Grrr!
Ejaz got the last six bottles of Carter’s Soda Water and lemon wafers. Well, here’s a photo of the food I took later after getting home. Making a mess of this; I can’t spend much time (Wednesday), and I’ve got to get dressed and prepped for the trip to the hospital.
We got to the bus stop; Ejaz was worried about being late and overstaying his visit, and I felt guilty for not understanding what he told me earlier, letting him down, and I paid the price.
We’d just missed the bus. I felt terrible. Ejaz was getting annoyed and said we’d have to walk back up to the flats; I’m already late for my next client. I had to keep stopping repeatedly, for Anne Gyna was giving me Hell and breathing was so painful. Not to mention the back, the knees, the poor toes (had to wear slippers), and I got the dizzies a couple of times.
Got back to the flat, asked Ejaz to leave the bags on the bed. He gave me a painkiller. Off he went. No high fives.
Minutes later, the door chime went; it was Ejaz coming back. I let him in, and went back to the room, and saw he’d left his headphone thingamajig. I took it to the door and handed it to him. Swapped high fives.
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He’s so Caring & attentive, as is Mirza.
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I worked on this blog until Carer Prem came.
Hopefully his calling back about his music phone thingy was a good sign, and he’ll forgive me.
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Making a meal now; I hope to take a snap and find a way to add it to this blog. It took me hours to find the photo of the day’s meal. I’d taken it without the SD card in the camera. A regular failing of mine, mind you. Hehehe!
A slight mistake or a few were committed in making this meal. I baked the potatoes for too long, and they were too hard for my terribly truncated, rotting, breaking, falling-out teeth to cope with. RIP to another tooth, which kindly left a little bit of itself in the gum, just to make eating that smidge more painful (as the overcooked, leathery potato skin removed it from attendance in my mouth and sent it down into my gullet for disposal. I’m not looking forward to that exiting on my next Porcelain Throne evacuation!
The blue cheese I purchased at the Continental Store was most disappointing. It cost me £4 for 120g. I expected it to taste like Roquefort cheese. A great, weak-flavoured cheese this was. The foreign name on it was- I’ll get the pack out of the bin… Gorrit! It reads: Turkish – Detected: ‘Yörem, Kars Küflü peynir.’ I put this into Google’s translator; it gave me “Yörem, Kars Mouldy Cheese”. That was a surprise. But not such a big one was how tasteless it was. Humph! £4 worth!
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TTFNski Each
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Inchie Today: Monday 10th August 2026
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Sorry, it’s a bit bare in detail
So many things happening,
I’m not coping well with them.
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Inchie Today: Sat/Sun 8/9th August 2026
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SATURDAY 8th AUGUST
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An even worse day today, for memory.
Notes virtually unreadable. Made a lot of them as well; I deciphered a few bits. Not a lot, I admit. I’ve got to stop doing this. I cannot understand why this new affliction has come on so quickly, as well. Three days now.
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Porcelain Throne a Constipation Conrad style.
Carer: Oxycodone taken. Arthritis in neck, far worse.
Phorpained shoulder, neck and knees.
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Carer Ahmed: Said he would arrange a takeaway meal for me from the Willow House. Then found they will not enter our flats; we have to fetch food from the lobby door. I thanked him, but gave up on the idea. Ahmed said he could collect it on his way in. Smashing!
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I called Jenny. She offered to get the British Gas non-showing of electricians on four occasions, on Monday, bless her cotton socks.
The next page was total rubbish; I could hardly make of a handful of words. Eyesight is the problem, I think, the Cararact? Don’t know.
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Ahmed returned, and I realised he meant another day. The Willow was closed. Jenny 🧑🏼❤️🧑 said she could go down to fetch me the meal. So kind. But, of course, it did not come. I had to have a meal of bread, tomatoes and crisps. Just too tired to make anything.
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SUNDAY 9th AUGUST
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Up unwillingly just before six. After an even more regularly jumping-awake-all-night session was enjoyed. When I did eventually give up trying to get any worthwhile sleep, and gingerly, slowly, very slowly, I bent down to take off 
the oddly well-filled Catheter night pouch, the need for the Porcelain Throne developed.
Making the hobble to the wet room, I had so many bodily pains, I didn’t know which was the worst.
So many to choose from this morning; Arthrits in the neck and right shoulder was noticed first. Then, the bruised coccyx as soon as I sat on the loo, knocking my injured left arm wound. Constipation ruled this session. I spent ages urging, pushing and could feel the blood coming from my haemorrhoids.
When finally getting up from the porcelain, I grabbed then dropped the new toilet roll. I don’t think I need to tell you what it fell in, do I?
I cautiously bent down holding the grab bar, and gave myself one heck of a toe-stubbing! Right on the longest-
nailed toe, the big one! I realised that my stomach, just emptied, was swelling up almost visibly! Naturally this pain and cock-uppery was taken with a smile. Ahem!
Then I cleaned up, and limped into the kitchen, to make up a 2-litre spring water bottle to keep the Catheter happy.
The Carer arrived later, taking a photo and commenting on my expanded middriff. The feet and toes were a bother all day. I can’t wear slippers of shoes. I may manage to bear the slippers on, if I get someone to help, and cut a knick in them? Of course I’ve not had the Catheter leak on me for several days, so I might risk cutting them, so I can wear them for the hospital visit on… on, erm… just checked on the calendar, this Wednesday. I’ll get it in the neck for not taking a 
Carer, but can’t afford to. My shoes are simply too painful to wear; no wonder the toe-stubbs hurt so much. And both legs have gone really thin again? Chicken legs!
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Carer Ahram came while I was working on the first part of this blog. Barrier creamed the belly mould, underarms and Phorpain gelled shoulders, underarms, man-breasts and neck for me. Heeven spees mopped the kitchenette floor. This lad only needs asking once.
He remembers, and is a nice, gentle bloke.
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Ahmed: Surprisingly, on his teatime call, when I asked him to change the Catheter pouch for me, he didn’t do it. But did give my feet a wash and dry, putting on athlete’s foot powder afterwards, and issued the medication, followed by a full safety check of the flat.
The feet are now feeling a little less painful.
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Having very little fresh food left, I’ve made an order on Iceland for Tuesday or Wednesday. I investigated what tinned food I can pick from. (Five out of date found).
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I was so worn out, mentally and possibly physically, that I did not eat the prepared meal. I’ll have it tomorrow, earlier if things work out, before the fading and tiring-out dawns on me, and Arthur Itis and Shaking Shoulder Shirley kick off. These two and Colin Cramps are virtually guaranteed around 20:00hrs.
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Inchie Today Friday 7th August 2026
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Sorry, such a busy day.
Even though British Gas did not arrive again.
Heard nowt from the toenail cutter,
(I’ll be a cripple soon. Humph!)
The kind Social Lady arrived.
Help from Carer Ejas appreciated.
Unfortunately, had a seizure.
She gave me a good Q&A session.
But the seizure left me so confused, I’ll have to ask Ejaz for the details of what happened from when I came out-of-it. Saturday morning, I felt even worse.
Thankfully, recovered about noonish.
So could not do a blog as such.
I put some old blogs on,
Now, to start Saturday’s blog…
I’ll try to get some details from the depths of my warped, infected memory.
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Inchie Today Thursday 6th August 2026
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An awakening with a difference. In order, I think: I looked at the nocturnal pouch, and it had not leaked overnight. As it had done for the previous three nights. Detached it from the day bag, and caught a glimpse of my ginormous 
man-breasts and chest. Not a pretty sight. What had happened, I had no foggiest notion of. I’ll take a closer look when I get a wash & shave later on in the day.
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Morning view
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Struggling with my eyesight.
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I dropped some dried milk onto the carpet.
Dropped the hoover,
Caught my arm wound against the edge.
Hoovered the mini-hallway.
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Found the photo of how the new hooked Catheter looked the following morning. The array pad, which I was told not to take off, fell off the following morning.
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Time has gone again, lost. Did a lot on Ejaz’s visit. He got the washing in the laundry room. Helped me wash and medicated all areas in need, got my PPs on for me.
Next Carer to collect the laundry from the dryer. Ejaz wrote on the mobile to remind him.
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Carer arrived, but did not collect the laundry. Asked him to fetch it up. It was squashed in the bag, creasing things, screwing the slippers. I then had to ask him to hang them up for me. Which he did. I’m not in a good place.
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I was soon feeling low again, and had no interest in eating yet. I may not bother. I was making up a list of things to ask and tell the Social Worker, who I hope is calling tomorrow sometime; Sister Jane rang. I should have appreciated this, but I didn’t. I felt terrible; I’ve never felt lower than I do now, in my life. And can’t help it.
The worry of the last gasp with the Social Lady is wearing me down, maybe. The bit of news I’ve gleaned about getting into a home is not encouraging. The bank situation and my bank balance are the lowest they’ve been since 1964.
I will be forced to cancel the Carers if something isn’t corrected soon. Managing without them will be hard, but it’s the only option. Just when Ejaz and Mirza are beginning to service me again. Both lovely Caring lads.
But I have no option. Unless the Social Lady can find some miraculous help for me.
It’s 19:17hours as I type this.
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Last Carer, I understand it is not to my Ejaz or Mirza; it is due shortly. I’m not interested in food, but I’ve done some boiled spuds. I’ll eat them for my meal and try to eat them. I’ll see what’s in the cupboard.
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Back in the morning, Cheers.
I’m back.
Late morning now, a lot to get done and sorted today (Fri).
Social Lady to arrive.
Foot Lady to arrive.
May not get a blog done.
Toothache, arthritis and coccyx bad.
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A bit blotchy?
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Inchie Today Wednesday 5th August 2026
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Inchie is up for adoption as a grandad
Just thought I’d mention it.
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On this day in 1945: The United States dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan.
Humankind has not learnt a lot, have we?
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Good Morning. Good morning? Well, it wasn’t at 06:25hrs when I stirred back into fau-life so reluctantly. I eased the painful sacral region, my coccyx, from the bed; ARRGH! Unbelievable, the nocturnal Catheter, the new ones of a different design, had leaked for the third day on the trot! Partly my own fault, for putting it on without thinking. And some new original ones had been delivered, arrived last night. I could have used them. The self-lambasting started, frustration flowed, bad language, really bad. A flipping good job they can’t hear me in the other flats. (I do hope not) I suffered a fit of pique, I suppose a sort of temper-tantrum. Directed at myself. I’m not proud of it.
I got even more annoyed and stroppy by the time I’d disinfected and put layers of paper towels down repeatedly, and the coccyx, lower back and Dizzy Dennis kicked off with all the bending. 
I stubbed my gigantic long-nailed and 
more than a few times. 
But I’d calmed down a bit by then… well, just accepted the situation I now find myself in. Good luck is a mystery to me. Getting the short end of the stick, being jinxed, conned, depressed, evil fortune, frustrations, mental & physical limitations, TBI. As for better luck next time; that never visits nowadays; these are not lessening… the same as my problems, just grow and multiply. But I waffle again. Don’t know why I do it; it never gleans any help. What a
terrible start to the day; well, usual start for me.
Depression is starting an early heyday… again.
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Smashing, Carer Ejaz did the one call. Said he was not doing any more today. Not sure of later on in the week. Humph! Love the lad.
So much for promises.
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Carer Ahmed did the noon call, I think. A nice chap, willing and ready to help.
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The teatime lad was his usual self.
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Carer Mirza did the last call. A short one in which he perused the emails, none needing attention. Then he filled in some more of the Mad House paperwork.
Another treasure, dedicated Carer.
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My one visit to the Porcelain Throne took ages to start the evacuation moving. It was hard work, even after they had started. Four thick nuclear submarine-shaped torpedoes slowly escaped, but the really surprising thing was the colours. The first two, which I thought was all that was coming, were coloured deep red and light brown. About to wipe and clean my bottom, the second two started; they were like concrete and thicker. I could feel the blood trickling from the haemorrhoids, and the next ones were far easier to pass, and were deep red, both with deep yellow turd ends. A different shade and texture every time I use the Throne. Hehehe!
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Wonderful yalking-to-clouds again today.
I took the above two to try and catch what I thought looked like a beast head, maybe a fish. See it?
This snap reminded me of Mr Trump.
I wonder why?
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Evening mug of Glengettie tea,
I need some chiropody,
Will my night Catheter again go leaky?
I hope my night will go dreamlessly,
Will Thursday go exacerbatingly?
I’d love to have an Epiphany…
British Gas: What a crap company,
They promised an engineer would visit me,
Three times this year; verisimility,
Lies, fibs, from the BG Oligarchy,
I’ve fractured anconeus, wrist and knee,
Catheter, obviously I can’t voluntarily pee,
Mechanical aorta, TBI, brain injury…
Constipation & Peripheral Neuropathy.
Dementia, seizures, and poor memory,
Ingrowing toenails, piles, since 2023,
Love cheesy potatoes, beetroot & boleti,
I suffer deafness and indeterminacy,
Confused over life’s insubstantiality,
Intangibility, vagueness, and ethereality,
Gawd, I do miss sexual reciprocity!
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I fell asleep eating it, while watching TV!
I ate all of it, except for the sticky Tiryaki sauce-covered potatoes that had stuck themselves to my body: testicles, legs, stomach, etc. The cushion, the carpet, the chair arm, and I found one had attached itself to my foot. I thought I’d got a blister or carbuncle coming up. Haha!
I cleaned the mess up, between bouts of cursing. Went through agony bending to clean it up, got the dizzies, and at one time, fell on my coccyx; that didn’t help my mood in the slightest. The cursing increased, but I did realise it was now the early hours of the morning, so I kept down the volume of my obscenities and expletives.
I cautiously took my time when doing the washing up and putting away the cleaning materials used.
The lower back, bruised coccyx, my right shoulder and left fractured knee each had a visit from Arthur Itis, and I had to give up getting into the bed, just too painful to find a comfortable position to accommodate the pains.
So, I moved and added cushions and folded towels on the recliner, enough to get into a bearable position, painwise.
Got settled, and confound it; started worrying if I’d turned off the cooker, turned off the taps, or left the fridge door open. I just had to check these things!
Grappling my way up out of 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, my coccyx was the main botheration; after all that time getting into a comfortable position, too. The feet and knee joined it as I hobbled into the kitchen; but I was so pleased I’d checked things, I’d cleaned the pots, and put the ceramic bowl back in the slow cooker earlier, but left it switched on!
On the way back to the recliner, Shaking Shoulder Shirley started going. Then, it’s happened many times; my memory of getting back in the recliner was so painful, but I cannot recall doing so? When I did wake up, the acid taste was up in my nose and mouth, so I had more nocturnal seizures, I imagine.
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Inchie Today: Mon/Tuesday 3/4th August 2026
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MONDAY
BLOOD WORK.
From the Warfarin Nurse.
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Dodgy BP on second mock run.
over 180, did not ring 111.
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ICC Carers phoned in reply to my request to stop the longer visits, due to their ineffectiveness and financial limitations. I was told that Ejaz would be doing all the long calls this week; the days would be changed. No mention of stopping them? No mention of the times they did not come, and I was still charged. At the time, I was just glad that he would be serving me once again.
The rest of the day was mental mayhem.
I was so far behind with the blogs and medical things, and this made it harder to recall. There were some notes on Monday’s page on the pad, but written so poorly I had to guess at some bits, but could only decipher about 15% of 
it. It is now Tuesday morning, and I’m only just starting to update this blog. I’ll see what I can get from my notepad. Fingers crossed. Self-Note: I must write larger letters!
Argh! I woke up to find that the new nocturnal bag had leaked all over the carpet! Took ages and a lot of back pain to sort it out. ICC phone call (above).
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Carer Ejaz did the long visit. A great help in sorting things as usual. As I stood up to get paperwork, my dizziness came on, and I fell over into the chair, as the knee gave way. Hitting my coccyx and head at the same time. Struggled around in the chair so as not to fall out-of-it. Ejaz was in full control and was a blessing.
(Oddly, I recall all this bit)
A day of Catheter shortage, and Ejaz called for supplies for me. All the rest of the page? Unreadable.
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Sorry, I made a mess of this.
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TUESDAY
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‘Orribly Oracled Ode
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04:00hrs, I woke up with a very painful coccyx. Much worse than just after I hit it on the armchair on a Whoopsiedangleplop Accifauxpas, yesterday.
I decided, well, very nearly, that I had to get up earlier today. Remembering my last two mornings, which took ages for me to stir and to get up and were filled with many droppings-offs. When I actually tried to get up, the agony from the coccyx bone was so bad, it took such a lot of gentle manoeuvring to ease the pain; it was 06:30hrs!
But I dropped off! This was followed by at least a dozen more trips back into the land of nod. Once on my plates of meat, the agony had turned to a little bit of discomfort.
For the rest of the day, it remained the same. It only stung me badly when I stood up or sat down. Curious about this, I took off the night Catheter bag and got the computer on to ask Google about the coccyx bone. Fearing another injury that I couldn’t afford trips to the A&E anymore, I gave the details and got this reply.
“A bruised tailbone causes lower back pain, swelling, and tenderness that typically heals on its own within four to eight weeks. (Good to read) Relief comes from using an ice pack wrapped in a cloth, taking over-the-counter pain medicine like ibuprofen, and sitting on a special ring or wedge cushion.” An ice pack? Would that mean me going shopping for some? I can’t afford a Carer to go with me, so that is out. Ibuprofen. With the arthritis being so bad, I’m already using my max-allowed three times a day in liquid form to control arthritis in the fractured knee & wrist, lower back, neck, and right shoulder and arm.
But I was pleased it would dissipate later.
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While on the computer, I got emails coming in. One got to me and started self-lambasting and swearing at myself,
Your order will be delivered today at…
The times I do this! People say, well don’t order any then!
Thanks to a mixture of the TBI, Depression, frustration & premorbid cognitive impairment, maybe helped along by
Concussion: A mild hit to the head can disrupt brain work and cause short-term confusion or memory loss. Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI): Hard blows or accidents damage brain tissue, making it hard to form new memories. Stroke: Blocked blood flow or a silent stroke harms brain cells and leads to sudden or slow memory decline; I’ve had them all!
Depression and Anxiety: Emotional stress and low mood make it hard to focus and remember daily details. (Oh, yes!) Vitamin Deficiencies: Low levels of vitamin B12 hurt nerve cells and cause forgetfulness. (I’m on B12 vitamin tablets, but they are not given to me by the Doctor; a Nurse brought some. The carers will not issue them or remind me to take them; I forget. Of course, they must be out of date by now. Sleep Apnea: Bad sleep deprives the brain of oxygen and harms recall.
I’ve had or got them all! I’m just greedy for agony!
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The sun came out; temperature got up to 29°c, later.
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Off to the Porcelain Throne now;
Core-Blooming-Blimey! Phooey!
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The late sky clouds…
I swear they spoke to me…
Full of awesome beauty,
Fearing mankinds complacency!
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Reading my notes, with difficultly…
Writing too small, you see
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Meal of the day,
Beetroot, Stilton cheese, tomatoes,
smoked mackerel, mini gherkins,
pickled onions, soft sourdough
bread with no-butter, butter.
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Inchie Today: Sunday 2nd August 2026
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SUNDAY 2nd AUGUST 2026
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Topsy-Tervy Today
Shortened due to time lost with the blood pressure issue. Not a lot… but being the dedicated young rascally lad that I am, I started this blog as soon as it was possible.
Monday morning at 04:00hrs.
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Short but not sweet, I fear.
So many changes, so many new problems. So far behind with everything. So many phone calls; Doctor, INR, and Cardiac blood, British Gas, so many unsolved issues…
Oh, that’s for Monday. Tsk!
I may not be back, Humph!
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Whoops, missed these last night.
BP Check results. When the Carer left, I called 111 to ask advice on these high readings. According to the list the nurse made me, so high should have been a 999 call.
I rang them and told them I’m feeling unwell. She put me through to another department. I answered the questions. And they sent an ambulance to check me out. I feared the very thought of going back into the hospital. I’ll try to cut this short, as it is now 19:30hrs on Monday.
Q&As, many tests, and they gave me a leaflet thingy, telling me not to do BP tests until after the Carer comes, as the ticker and blood tablets are given in the morning. I thanked them, apologised for bothering them, and they were packing up their tackle when one got a phone call.
I was whisked off. Many tests, much sitting around waiting for the results, and I got a lift back home.
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Near teatime, but I’d thoughtfully told the Carers not to call at lunch or teatime, and I’d ring if kept in, back to some out of sync & timing events.
Sorted waste.
Early view
Feet with the longest toenails ever
Bit of fat around the ankles.
Disappeared by morning.
Potatoes, Curlies & Stilton, with a mini pork pie.
TTFN.
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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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