Month: March 2024

Irredivivous Inchy Saturday 30th March 2024

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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‘s mass of flaked-off skin covered my spectacles, chest, and dressing gown, and left a reasonable deposit on the floor and £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
kicked off the moment I moved my left leg. But her joint was utilised to help me bend down to clean up my exuviated skin. The pain and efforts resulted in many visits from , , and .

Carer Chris arrived; he did not put the socks on for me because I’d hoped to get the ablutioning done later today – I didn’t.
Well, several of them. The day shot by, and I hadn’t even started this blog until Saturday (today). I flaked out far earlier than I usually do. Gave up, ate, and spent hours trying to get to sleep.
were rampant. It’s as if they knew I’d drifted off. Sleep? Erm…what’s that then? Hehe!
I keep hoping the Doctor’s receptionist will call to arrange for me to see the medics. Then, if I remember, I can explain my problems to them.
This was likely the worst out-of-it day ever. Thank heavens, I took some pictures. I really cannot recall taking many of them.
I have to see the quack about this. Then again, as last time, a long time ago, when I told her of the situation, she seemed all calm and unconcerned. She mentioned that I’m getting older and have many problems, as do so many other elderly patients. It is to be expected. I almost apologised for mentioning my worries. Hahaha! She’s right, all the same.
Here’s the memory promoters via .

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You’ll notice that no night bag was attached.
This is due to my complicated, infected with brain; and, of course, dying. Maybe some effect from . Possibly in amalgamation with the failed operation, cleverly leaving me with double-vision, and some wonderfully uplifting new skills, like walking into door frames, tripping over unseen objects, and the latest, bending down and hitting left-open cupboard door corners when rushing to turn off hot water tap (faucet), that I so regularly leave to run cold. Hang on. That prompted me to check the taps now! No taps were running, and neither the hob nor the oven was left on… I closed the left-open fridge door! I am so glad I wrote this bit now. My food could have decayed! As I am. Hehehe! Where was I? Oh, yes, the urine nocturnal pouch I forgot to put on. Remembered to ask the last Carer to take off my socks last night. 

The Iceland order arrived. 
The only good thing about the order. They had Heinz pickled Ketchup on special offer.  
Food!
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A close-up of Harry Ramsden’s fish supper planned for tonight, well, tomorrow night’s feast.

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It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday’s. But coming around afterwards, it took me a long time to get into a condition where I could tackle checking the blog work. It didn’t help that I had made so many errors.

Fantastic, beautiful cloud shots.

The catheter pouch has filled much slower today. But the colour was much worse.
Maybe a 5 on the NHS chart.
I’ll ask a carer to check it from this photo for me later, which I did. Joanne said it was a class 6!

It’s getting dark now. After another hour or so on this blog, I felt weariness, so I gave up.

Back to the wet room.

Took this photo.
I had a pareidoliaising feast with this one.
I thought, can others see what I do in it.
In the morning, I copied it in CorelDraw and doctored it with a lot more ‘contrast’, and what I could see became more explicit in the resulting picture.
Can anyone see them? The teddy bear, ghost, face, or the animal? I love pareidoliaising.

Was the catheter pouch still a deep colour?

The late evening clouds seemed to be determined to come to the fore. You can imagine, methinks, what I saw at first with my left double-vision eye. Haha!

So weary now. I made a quick meal.
The bland, pale, undercooked Iceland chicken legs, substituted for the not available thighs, tasted like cardboard would, I imagine. The Heinz beans were also unremarkable. The instant potatoes were very nice, especially with the Heinz pickle-flavoured ketchup.

Took this last shot of the sky.
I was pleased with this one.

I managed to find five of them.

I’m yawning now. But once again, would Sweet Morpheous welcome me? NO! Heaven knows how long it took me to nod off. I had a couple of , which jumped me awake, but I soon nodded off again. I did well once I got off, about 6 hours or so. Gleaned by waking up a lot later than usual, at 05:00hrs.

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Fare Thee Well!

Inadvisability Inchy: Fri 29 Mar 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I made a deliberate mistake in this Ode; Ahem!
I wrote Further, instead of another word. Would
anyone like to guess what it should have been?
Deliberate mistake… I am a fibber!
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Moments for sheer frustration, littered with strange, weird, eerie, unaccountable moments of ‘Soditisms’.
During these spasms, I was so high that nothing seemed to bother me in the least. But, they were short and rare and were usually followed by a Depression full of self-loathing, then a realisation that I am to blame for my past guilt. Then, the circle would start again.
I think I’ve mentioned these to the Doctor, but I’m not sure. Maybe not; I’ve not seen her for many months.
On the bright side, the throughout the day, added up to only four!
I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again and burnt the food in the oven. The eyes are terrible nowadays. Any distance and things seem to have another image above themselves. Like a shadow, but clear. I’m looking now through the balcony window, and all the houses look like they have two roofs.
The catheter is a lot less painful than yesterday, mind you. My coughing has also calmed down compared to last night. I’ve walked into nothing. Fair do’s, I’ve dropped the cutlery, saucepan, washing up bottle, picker-upperer, tablets and my pen (four times).
So, all in all, a typical day.
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Night pouch.

Medicationings.

My ankles look fine.

The first emptying of the day bag.

Opening the balcony windows.

Over the next five hours, the views remained similar.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Gorgeous!
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!

I was busying away and getting a little done.
Caregiver calls only confused me. After they left, I found it nearly impossible at times to get back to what I was working on, often veering off to the wrong project and getting deeper into a mind-muddle. Memory-Blanks were rampant. For some reason, I did not keep up with the memory notes on the pad. Now, so long later (Saturday A.M. started on this section), the photos help prompt me a little. Not many of them, either. Any slight disturbance, change whatever, and I was lost again. Sorry about this

Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).

Gave up computing. I was in a long-lasting period of haziness. But can recall Carer Christopher arriving.
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
While talking, I remembered I’d left the sausages cooking in the oven… yet again!
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen.
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.

I took this night view and got settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep. Immediately started an attack of lambasting, self-hating, repeating so many things, wrong choices I’d made over the tears. Even an occasion that took place when I was just an ankle-biter, which I was not proud about doing… it was horrible being forced to listen to myself, listing and bringing back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
As I tossed and twisted, I felt the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie. I 
realised then that I had not attached the Nocturnal Pouch yet. So, I did!

By the time I’d fumbled about to get the bags linked, my & both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. . I may regret saying this later, Haha!

TTFNski each!

Inadept Inchy: Thursday 28th March 2024

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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The ‘Out-of-its’ almost equalled the ‘Nearly-with-its’ today. There was total confusion. Sadly! Most details, such as they are, were taken from the few scribbled notes on the remember pad, with the odd photo triggering a vagueness-like recollection. 
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02:45hrs; I woke, greeting life with appreciation, determination and an inclination to use the Porcelain Throne. I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch at the same time. Washed, no shave or teeth cleaning, the mind wandered again. I medicated my usual areas in need, Olive oiled the earholes, sprayed the eyes and, as delicately as possible, got fresh Protection Pants on.
Urgh!
I’d left some facecloths to soak in the sink.
Can’t recall what I put in the water; it’s usually a spot of bleach & disinfectant. Whatever it was, it left the drain full of black stains. I tried to get it off for ages, but this above is the best I could do?

Made the bin bags into one.

Early morning view of the sky.

Then the end car park.

Complete Blank…
I have been working on CorelDraw, Blogging, and MS Word for about five hours. As I got a rare double , I realised what had happened with my having a blank. Regrettably, after checking the work done while not with it, I found that so many mistakes were made. I had to virtually rewrite the Ode I’d done and make another graphic for it. Then, I lost more hours double-checking the errors, and Grammarly was working overtime and constantly changing the error notifications. During this time, the (necessary) interruptions were multiple.
This caused me to lose track so often of where and what I was amending that I thought about not doing a blog at all today – then the little-used still-there-in-the-background grittiness merged into reality. I used to love doing the blog so much. I still do, but it’s tempered by all the problems I’ve developed, making it a monumental daily task for me—but one I will continue with. I feel calmer and less confused today, writing this, so I’m pressing on with it before the expected interruptions from the Caregivers and the Doctor (who is phoning me again today) Begin happening. Any little distraction of whatever I’m doing, and it all goes to pot, and I lose the plot. Hence, so many taps I’ve left running. I purposely do not go on the WP reader or comments unless I’m in a frame of mind, such as I am now, nearly normal mentally, not depressed. I find thinking and creating things easier when the fog of confusion is not with me. Then, I can read, appreciate, and understand blogs and comments easily and try to make entertaining comments if I’m up to it. I find it (and photography) the only things that I’m still interested in. But, of course, using , with the neurotransmitters dying off is not going to get any easier. But, as my cyber-friend Tim says, it produces photos worthy of the Tate Gallery? Hahaha!

Carer Chris came. Medications, I forgot to ask him to put my diabetic socks on, nibble and drinkie. And he took the laundry down for me, bless him. After the needed visit stroke interruption, I was a little lost with where and what to blog about.

Then, window cleaner Joe arrived.
I rudely nattered away to him without stopping. Sorry, Joe! I must get out to get some cash. I think I’ve only got a £5 note left after paying my dues for the window cleaning services. I must remember to sort something out. I was going to ask Kara for advice, but I forgot! 

Blogged for a while, most of the time spent finding out where I was to start and what I had already done.

Then, the landline sounded. I knew it had to be someone business-wise or a cold call. I’d given the new landline number to the doctors, the hospital, and the clinic, asking them to use it because I could hear a little better on it. The Nokia makes it hard to decipher what folks are saying to me. It was the Doctor’s Surgery. A new doctor, who had been seen by the social lady, told me about my problems with Arthur Itis and what we think are the cartilages and walking without losing balance.
She asked me some questions about what affected me. She is going to get a receptionist to call me in view of having an examination of the patellas.

Lost again with what I was doing. The thread had bared. Haha! I took this shot from the kitchen window as I made a brew of tea.
I’m back to blogging again. Carer Chris returned with the Laundry bag and left it in its usual place. I threw away the now-gone-cold brew of Glengettie tea. Humph!

Back to CorelDraw graphic making. Not realising that I had not yet finished the Ode! Grrr!

I gave up on doing any more blogging, and I was so distant and confused.

Wonderful clouds tonight!

I burnt the sausages well and truly!
I added them to the can of tomatoes with a dollop of tomato sauce and chunky Mediterranean vegetables in the saucepan. The sausages looked really tasty, but they looked tough. Maybe too harsh for the broken and missing teggies I have available for use in my gob? The treat was Great! Yum-yummy!

I caught this scene of the amazing clouds and dying sun as I hobbled to check if I’d left the cooker on or the tap (faucet) running in the kitchen.

Carer Chris did the last check on me.

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TTFN

Interfationing Inchy: Wed 27th Mar 24

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4:00hrs: I woke feeling oddly a little sprightly (for me). As I tried to rise from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, uncomfortable, incommodious, unwelcoming and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. As I did so, gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think?  This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had , in front, along with bleeding at the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.

Then a   dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, grouchy, depressed, frustrated, bleeding, in pain, downhearted, depressed, melancholy, forlorn, glum, demoralised, fed up, down in the dumps, in the doldrums, unnerved, chagrined, miffed, sour, sulky, sullen, surly, saddened, subdued, almost sepulchral Inchy.
But within minutes, a stroke of good luck eased my misery by taking my mind off of it. As I was leaving the wet room, I clouted my head, this time on the door frame! 99% of the time, it will be the right shoulder. Blame can be attached to: ,  ,  ,   or any of the ailments really. On this occasion, the culprits were, I think, and or . The eyes are worse than ever now, and I’m sure I’ll have kicked the bucket before my turn comes for the operation. But, sorting youngsters out early is more vital. They have the prospect of living many years with their sight adjusted. We long in the tooth old things, must accept this.

This morning, the sky was a glorious blue hue again. My confusion was worse than usual for the next hour or two. I got out of the wet room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
There was a smidgen more bleeding from Little Inchy, but it’s not worth mentioning compared to the tsunami that was released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my was getting better bit by bit.

The areas where the are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. is to blame.
Getting lighter now, I took another Kodak Tim picture from the kitchen window again. The streetlights were off now.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.

Carer Shaquille arrived. I made an order the J Sainsbury’s for next week. Blogging.
Amending, blogging, correcting, blogging-getting more things wrong, blogging… well, you get the message. Tsk!
Carer Kara arrived. She sorted out the banking problem and said she would try to get in touch with Norton about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. Care Victor, did the last two calls.
I took these photos later. 
Then went into what I believe was a non-apolectic seizure. Not a mind-block. Because it was like blinking, and an hour had gone, but nothing was done whatsoever when I came around back to this miserable existence.
After the , I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A procedure Hehe! Nothing gets done as if I’d fallen asleep, but I know it wasn’t that. I think.  might play a part in this ailment.
At times, I come back to the reality of stinging pains in the lower regions from the catheter bag being too full, and I have to get it emptied swiftly, ASAP.
The sunset was about over by the time I regained a modicum of brain control, rejoined the menagerie of life on offer, and got back to the reality and struggle of living.

I DIDN’T

I gave up on the blogging.

Made myself a meal.
It tasted delicious, too! I could feel my burnt finger on the oven rack and the pain of dropping the hot oven tray onto my foot. Landing on my toe nail.
But the meal was worth the hassle. 

Wrote by Inchie c1953

Search for the meaning of truth,
Look until you’re long in the tooth,
You may find it, Gawd’s strewth,
Facts will have to be dealth…
With those who demand wealth,
Humans want for themselves,
Oligarchs will believe in elves!

See you later, take care of yourselves!

Inchy with Little Inchie Bleeding: Tue 26 Mar 24

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Today, felt like it had lasted for three days or more!
Yet I was so swamped, which usually makes the time pass quicker? The worrying early morning , the Asda delivery farce, Little Inchy, and the catheter tube painfully in disagreement all day long, and so many episodes meant this was not anywhere near a good day for Inchy! I’m sure I had one while Carer Kara was with me today. Because I was not getting what she was saying about the text, I was left more befuddled than before I asked for help.
My blogging exploits are taking so much longer, with a first-time success rate of infinitesimally low.
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Very early morning view.

Porcelain Throne evacuation failure. Not only no release but no answers to the crossword. Tsk!

I gave up, but within a minute of leaving the wet room, I hobbled hastily back, just in time. The delayed motion shot out as my bum hit the seat!

I got on with the blog catch-up. At about 06:00hrs, I thought I’d make myself a mug of tea.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP
As I pottered about from the sink to the kettle back to the counter, I got the kettle on, went to the cupboard for the tea bag, took that and the mug to the kettle counter, and went to the fridge for the milk… I really thought my bad eyesight was fooling me at first when I dropped the spoon and looked down for it; there were trials of dripped blood all over the kitchen, some trodden on and smeared by my slippers. A closer inspection of the Little area revealed that blood was pouring out from near the catheter tube inserted, as it has been for over a year now in . I used many kitchen towel sheets over the next hour; yes, it took that long. It was steadily bleeding, started heavily, slowly getting less, until it seemed to stop of its own accord. All I did was go into a semi-panic and wipe it off with paper towels. I took a photo of the last few towels used. The first few were more red than white, so you can see how much it lessened to a trickle, running down the inside of my leg, onto the now, for some reason, between my leg and the swollen right testicle. No, the left one.
I had considered pressing the alarm wristlet. But when I saw the blood getting less and less, I didn’t bother. I’ll ask the Carer to ring the community nurse’s place for me when she or he arrives.
I cleaned up the kitchen and my body parts as best I could. Next, I was going to get a fresh pair of PPs Protection Pants) on. But what had happened in the kitchen that may have caused the problem dawned on me. I was taking the emptied catheter pouch with me as I went in and dropped it; I bent down to retrieve it rather sharpishly. That may have cracked the dried blood and allowed a follow-through? Hehe!

The Asda Delivery Arrived
The delivery driver saw my predicament and took the food to the kitchen. Some were put on the floor near the sink…
Some on the kettle shelf…
The PPs on the cooker.
Bags on the floor.
Daffodils for the Carers on the draining board.
These are from a carrier I placed for photographing. I got things sorted and put away, but I could only see one of the two ordered packs of PPs and no kitchen towel. I kept looking around, searching. The email said they had been sent. An hour and four look-arounds later, I found them. They were in the hallway near the door, on the floor behind Wally. I took one of these out, asking the Carer to help me get into them later. I wanted to avoid bending.

I took this snap of the later morning view. Carer Marie arrived, medicated me, and helped me with the PPs and diabetic socks. Bless her!

Hours were spent on this blog preparation, but it was slow going again. Grammarly, Accifauxpa-ridden.

Cara Kara arrived
She called the District Nurses for me, and they will call today or tomorrow. She checked the catheter bags for me. Medications were given. She looked at the texts and emails. No action is needed. She will ring someone about something later in the week, but I can’t recall who or what it was about now. 

Blogging.

The Landline Rang
District nurse. I told her the bleeding had almost stopped and the pain, although still hurting, was far less than yesterday. They will not be calling on me now. If pain or bleeding gets worse, I’ve to phone them.

Started to make an early meal
The usual tiredness and weariness fell on me extra early this Tuesday.

One of my betterer, more tasty efforts this one was.
Lipsmackingly tasty!.
A drop of Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle decorated the top of the folder. I do like this sauce!

Getting down in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus, initially failed. I tried the trick of putting the TV on to watch my favourite TV programme, ‘Heartbeat’. And it worked, and I went into bliss… Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, reluctantly, he said, with a big grin on his face. Hehe! 
Medication issues, nibbles and drinkies given, socks taken off. And off trotted Chris. Nice lad!

I had to get up to empty the .
I took this view of the early evening sky as I did.
Amazing cloud formation!

I made the last call of the day. I was so out of it with the blessed, deep, comforting sleep. I can see now why the lad removed the diabetic socks earlier: to let me sleep on without getting up. Good on him! He sprayed the eye spray on me, making sure I had to close my eyes first. Drinkie, nibble, and off.

I was soon back in the land of nod. I’m not sure I entirely left it anyway. Hehe! My next conscious moment, deep in slumber and dreaming of physically entwining with long-gone Lady Grizelda, Was when the began bursting out.
There was no chance of any more sleep now, but I was well-pleased when I realised the time. I’d just had nine hours of sleep! Brilliant!

TTFNski, each!

Limitability Inchy: Monday 25th March 2024

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23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.

I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.

I’d better start the Diary.

04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git! 

Urine is even darker.

This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!

Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!

While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.

End car park view.

Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.

Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.

Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.

Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.

I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!

However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… …
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
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Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
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The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.

Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).

Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.

I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!

Oh, dearie me, Little Inchie’s hurting again.

TTFN.

Illaudable Inchy: Sunday 24th March 2024

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05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
The blogging was another nightmare. mistakes, errors, corrections and frustrations.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet. Poor Jane is not an early riser—the opposite, actually. She was coughing away; she’s got the Lurgie, too. Naturally, she did not know. I expect a late call this morning. But it doesn’t matter at all to me. We had a natter, and I listened to her problems for a change. She asked why they did not call me. But, to be fair, they may have when I was in the wet room. Also, I’m not sure if my new telephone number has been passed on to them or not. I gave it to the flats Meridian set-up. He came later anyway. No problems.

The pain from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was horrendous all day long. It didn’t calm down until well late in the night. The Carer saw my state and rang for advice. Said they would send someone to check on it on Monday. We’ll see.
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Dark, too dark again.

Tried to take a photograph or two of the moon. The first one was fairish, the second warped.

Off to the wet room for a shower, shave and shush.

The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful and medicating session ever! Things have not been right down there since the last nurse replaced the catheter. I don’t need to move,  and he hurts! If I could, I’d bottle the pain and send it to the Doctors with a note: “Here you are, try some of this now will you listen to me and help?”

Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. I struggled to stop stopped and creamed. , Cream on the . Barrier Creamed all around . Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
I turned to leave with the waste bin in hand and traditionally gave the door frame a charge with my right shoulder, setting off a few minutes’ worth of pain from .

Worst Ablution Session in a long time.

Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!

The carer was late, not that it mattered. Half an hour later, the landline rang out, making me jump.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.

I concentrated on the hard slog of blogging for hours and hours; just not very successfully. Little Inchie was so painful at times, which did not help me concentrate on blogging. Humph!

Carer Kimberley arrived. She could not give me any painkillers because it had not been 4 hours between calls. So I took some Paracetamols. The pain from poor Little has never been worse. I took off the PPs I put on after washing, hoping it would not irritate things as much. But no, it’s just as bad now. With not having the pants on, I caught myself catching the catheter tube more often; AARGH!

What an amazing hue!

Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little , the wee was flowing freely.

I added a packet of PP’s to the Asda order for Tuesday. I tried some different kinds this time

Carer Israel arrived while I was struggling to walk into the kitchen and showed his concern for me. That was nice. He rang someone and spoke to them. 111 probably. He told me they said it was likely to be an infection and a nurse would be calling to check it out tomorrow. Bless his cotton socks. He also had a quick sweep-up in the kitchen for me when he saw how painful it was for me to bend, stretch, bend, walk and keep a hold on things. I much appreciated his efforts. 

Back on the blog. Then noticed how bright it looked outside, and I took this truly wonderful shot with … I love this one.  
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Bootiful!

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Zoomed-in shot.
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Wider shot.

Burnt to perfection! Just how I love them to be.

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What a magnificent view,
From my kitchen window, too,
I’m pleased with these two,
I went into Smug-Mode, anywho,
Not a smudge, blotch or curlicue,
Decent sky shots were overdue,
Best view, hitherto!

All the Best to You!

Accifauxpa Whoopsie-Prone Inchy: Sat 23 Mar 24

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Woke and rose at 04:15hrs: After over five hours of kipping! Grrreat!  Took me a while to nod off, but I only had three, I think
And didn’t visit me once! But, as usual, when I moved, this time it was both & giving me grief, and it must have taken me five minutes to get to the wet room. More on that later.
The absolute worst thing to affect me was in the late afternoon, & launched an attack that I ended up surrendering to and gave up trying to do this blog. Defeated!
With the coughing and downfall of skin when the forehead. , I’m surprised I have any skin left on my head; it was falling off all day. Later I rang Sister Jane, and she and hubby Pete were not in good health at all. Jane’s cough sounded terrible. I’m worried about her now. As I moved to get the B17 tablets that Jane had told me had arsenic in them and told me not to use them, to read the label – I went down on one knee. Suddenly, I dropped the landline telephone. , I took a tumble when  gave way. I grappled my way back up on my feet to get to the landline; poor Jane was coughing away something wicked. So many people seem to have this ‘Lurgie’ thing this week. Several Carers, the nurse, the electrician… oh, and me. I hope it’s not another form of Covid, and HMG wants to keep it quiet, with the election coming up?
Much later, I tried again to get some blogging done. Well, I did a bit, but it was error-ridden and amazingly hard work, trying to keep a clear head on the task.

Passed well, not a bad colour.

Concrete, mush, torpedo, gooey, nothing moved, wet and watery, squirty… Never the same twice in a row! You watch it now I’ve said that. Hehe!

Kitchen view.

Back to the wet room. Not for the again, but to clean up Little Inchies bleeding, I caught the catheter tube closing the window. Talk about hurt! Cleaned it up and medicated things

On leaving the wet room, I saw the moon high in the sky. I thought this is worth photographicalisationing. But could I get a decent shot? No!
This is getting bad now. This time, as I was trying to get a decent shot, a , not only that but joined in as well. Then, after taking the sad pictures and closing the window… , I knocked the knife block off of the window ledge. The tip end of the cheese knife broke off when it hit the floor.

Naturally, these incidents didn’t phase or bother me in the slightest. I just laughed them off.

I made a brew of Glengettie and got the computer on to work on this blog. A new Caregiver arrived and Medicated me, put the diabetic soaks on for me, and had a little natter. What about escapes me now. Tsk!

I computed for it appears, for five hours, according to the clock, but not according to the work and progress not done on the blog. I may have suffered a   or maybe , but I recall nothing of this time whatsoever. The rot had set in.

called, and I bluffed my way through. I think, in fact, I did not stop talking to the poor gal. It would help if I could remember what she was talking about. I think I may have, possibly, conceivably mentioned the Lurgy because Joanne sounded like she had a sore throat… or did she?

I did continue on the blog, but it was a bit farcical. I’ll have to get u[ early in the morning so I can get a shave and shower before the Carer arrives, then get back on this Inchy blog. I’d taken some photos… I know this cause I found them on the SD card.
What amazing views.
Gorgeous.
Oh, how I’d love to recall the pleasure of taking them.
These two below, I took later.
I do recall taking these.

I won’t make a meal yet cause it’s close to the last Carer calling time. I’m a different being compared to the one I was hours ago. Struggling a bit here!

But I’m so glad I got the graphics and ode done early on.

Best nosh in a long time.

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You Take Care Out There, Please!

Idealist Inchy: Fri 22 Mar 24 Electrical work, Alarm and Fire Brigade

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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This Friday, the brain had its usual periods of hazy craziness, with intervals of it being floury. You know, messy, unable to sort out. Perhaps it might have been mini-seizures, I don’t know. Others are more aware of my actions when one is visiting than I am. A Carer had the heart to speak with me after being present when I departed spiritually from reality. Assuring me all that happened differently, I could or didn’t speak, but my mouth moved as if I was doing so? I kept doing things silently, some actions not being relevant to the situation, and I had no idea this was happening. I wouldn’t worry about it, at least. So glad to hear someone explain the unknown to me. Hehehe! 

This was the first time I’d had a seizure when someone was here to see one. At least, I think it was. 

The mail was delivered. I usually put it on the old DVD so Carer Kara can go through it when she comes the following week, but I can’t find it anywhere now.

The Diabetic socks arrived, all three packages, within an hour, each delivered by a different carrier. Photos are further down. Two were extra-long diabetic bamboo socks that looked fine. The bigger one was cotton socks that I ordered by mistake. 
Mistake making? Me? Hard to believe! Hahaha! 
I left the oven and hob on as well. The hot water faucet (tap) I let run cold… again. 

Three electricians arrived to install the new fire alarms and reset the power box. That was mayhem with a capital M. At one point, they had to turn off the power, which caused me to semi-panic. I was scared that the panic alarm box, the internet, and the TV might not come back on again. The very patient electrician checked everything came back on alright; damned kind of him, too! Thank you! All working!
The Fire Alarm was somehow triggered in the flat. I sounded very soft and quiet to my hearing. To the others, the klaxon was driving mad. So, one good point in my being so deaf. Har-har! The brigade arrived and checked out the flat. One spoke to me and walked away. I’ve no idea what he said to me; he’d got his BA kit on. He was soon off after talking to the electricians; at least, I think he did.

Did Carer Victor’s Health Checks on his last call.
Made a decent nosh, much earlier than usual.
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Was the Catheter’s nocturnal pouch was not very full? Then again, I’d not been sleeping for long. The NHS colour grading looked like a number four or five.

I rose from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite-producing, and disease-fermenting, bought second-hand, eyesorely horrible, grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, nocturnal-crumb-ridden, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. With insisting on giving way several times, I hobbled almost comically to the wet room. The attempted evacuation was a wasted effort. I was thinking that at least for once, a rarity,   were not bleeding, and I was nearly caught out by collapsing, giving way, enough for a tumble. It should have been one, really, but I fell in the right direction and caught hold of the shower chair in time to stop myself from hitting the rather hard-floored deck.
Infected ankles and legs looked so much calmer this morning. I washed Little Inchy, Harold’s Hemorrhoids, dried them, and medicated them. Then, I creamed the on my forehead and arms. I sprayed the eye treatment on the lids and olive-oiled the earholes. I just remembered at the last minute that I’d not put the barrier cream on the tummy infection yet. So, I did! It’s hard work getting old, Haha!

I took the wet-room waste bag and amalgamated it with rubbish from the other two bins. Making two bags of waste, and took them to the front door.
The amazing blue-hued sky in this poor-quality photo I took from the kitchenette window is so pretty.
Although that’s not the word I wanted to use; it’ll do until I remember what it was. Mind-Blank here!

I got the laundry bag sorted. I must remember to ask someone to take it down for me later. Then, I double-checked that I had put in the wash capsule and softener. They were all present.

Blimus! The catheter day pouch had filled up quickly again. The colour looked very much healthier, too. 
Bent down to empty the day pouch into the urine jug. As I was getting back upright… !
twinged into action. I was so surprised, with her being so kind to me lately. She hit me hard, and I took an extra Codeine 30g. She’s never hurt this bad before. But an hour or so later, the Codeine had done its job and had eased off. I’m so glad to report.

I scurried hobblingly back to the wet room . There was no doubt I made the right decision in rushing to get there. Whatever blockage stopped me from passing minutes ago, this time, was back in full charge of the procedure.
Wet but sticky, smelly and splashy! Cleaning things up took me a while.

I made a grand strong brew of Glengettie tea. Then, at long last, I got the computer on. No biscuits dunked. Was I getting more dedicated to the new diet? No, I let the drink go cold, getting into the blogging. Humph! A few hours later, I took a break. I needed it because I was fed up with making so many errors on the blog (grammatical and chronological).

I decided to open the socks that were delivered yesterday.
The cotton socks I wrongly ordered were a pack of 12 different-coloured socks. I must ask my brother-in-law Pete if he’d like to have them. They are long and warm. I’ll try to remember to ring and find out if he fancies them. Good quality they are.
The next pack contained 4 pairs of proper diabetic long socks. dark grey, I think. The Carer later put a pair of these on for me. Excellent fit, comfortable and warm.
The last pack included two pairs of knee-high bamboo socks. These looked far thinner and stretchier than those above, and they cost an awful lot more. I stored the socks, well, I say stored...

I took this snap of the late afternoon view with the sun and clouds. I am back on the blogging and have started creating the ode.

had once again filled up at a good rate of knots. Still a healthy colour, mind you.

I checked on the Asda order made for next week. To see if I needed anything taking off or adding to it. I took off three items and put a few on it. The original total was for £52.24. After toying with things, it now stands at £66.84!
When will I ever learn?

Another snap of the view of the sky. I went into one of my spells. 
Can you see the bird, plane, or face as I did? Bearing in mind that is making me see double, a shadow of everything attached. So maybe you can’t see them. Hehe!

An early meal tonight.
Potato rostis, Dutch tomatoes, Anya potatoes, and caramelised pork sausages. With a sliced baguette. The Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle was well used. It went down well. I’m glad I remembered to eat early, thus avoiding the Carer calling just when I was starting to eat. 

What’s wrong with the lower circle?
Fair enough, I can’t make out what it is.

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Keep Safe!

Impugnable-Inchy: Thursday 21st March 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Charged with murder and released on bail?
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This physical and mental collapse every afternoon has gone on for three days now. No… Four!
Today, it came over me even earlier. My plan was to at least sit down, with a chance of nodding off; then, after Carer Kara helped me again, but she only had 10 minutes allowed for the visit. Bless her. Carer Helen made the last call, I was to get back to blogging again. I’d given up trying to sleep and was eating the meal when she arrived. Then, as the gal left, after medicating and taking off my diabetic socks from my legs, I went into a deep sleep, which didn’t last for long and was in patches. Every time I went into bliss, shortly one of the would unceremoniously burst me back awake. About 2 hours later, I gave up trying and started to potter about. 
Anyway, I didn’t get back on the blog until around about 03:00hrs on Friday morning, and I had a mammoth task of catching up on it. Which I am currently in the process of doing, accompanied by the World Wide Hum, and a rattling coming from I know not where. 
Better get on with it…

I carried the nocturnal pouch with me as I tried to remove it. I accidentally tugged the tube as I released the valve for emptying and immediately felt the warm, wet feeling of blood in the PPs! I got it cleaned up. Then I sorted out the waste bags into one, ready for collection, and placed them near the front door of the flat.
I took a snap of the morning view from the kitchenette. It’s not a good one, but it was fairly good for me. Is there a nice eeriness about it?
After an hour or so on CorelDraw, uploading and resizing the Kodak Tim pictures, an email from Sainsbury’s came Porc failedin. I went to the wet room and utilised the ever-popular. Once again, the evacuation failed, and after much urging and inner pushing, I gave up. Knowing there was possibly a gigantic torpedo in the queue that may need some help seeing the light of the WC basin, I made and drank a drink of an ‘Ease-it-along sachet’. 

The Caregiver arrived, Victor or Israel. I think I can’t read the name on the log. My memory is blank on this visit, so it could have been anyone.
An hour or so later, the J. Sainsbury order arrived. I did struggle a little getting the bags, one at a time, into the kitchen. Well, I did not struggle; I just took extra care not to catch the tubing in Little .
The bananas came all ready-bruised to save me the effort of dropping them, so it was kind of Sainsbury’s. I got some vegan Maryland cookies, passata sauce with Mediterranean vegetables, and drinks for the nurses and carers. I also got fresh fries; they may get cooked and tasted tonight, methinks. Maybe the Anya potatoes be eaten tomorrow? They are grown only on the Monarch’s farms. Hence, Lord Sainsbury is the only person allowed to sell them. (I’m full of useless snippets)
The fridge was now fullerer than ever! Ready meals, lemon curd yoghourts, potato rosis, the lemon curd dip pots on the bottom shelve? Gorgeous! 
I got a big pack of the JO2 favourites for the treats shelf. They may last a week or more. The most popular of the drinkies on offer these are.
I also got a few of these pots of jelly in a new flavour. Not a good photo. (I’m good at doing these types, Hehe!) So you may not be able to read the label. They are… honestly, a Gin & Tonic Flavour, jelly! I can’t see these being well-liked. I wonder what they put in it to get the taste?

A little drizzle was spotted when I was cleaning the side of the cooker later on.
I took it through the kitchen window glass to try to catch the raindrops on the pane.

During the next half an hour, I got three parcels delivered.

The first was socks, three pairs, I think, of long diabetic ones, expensive ones, too! The second was socks, two pairs of thinner, longer diabetic socks. These were even more expensive, cost me a fortune. But I didn’t get the last two new pairs back from the laundry. They think someone half-inched my laundry and a new bag. I never saw any of them again. Humph!
The third delivery was socks. Six pairs of the wrong type. Hehe! I’d made a great cock-up, mistake, error 
with this order. As Carer Kara found out and told me yesterday. I thought I’d ordered Diabetic Bamboo socks. Kara pointed out that they were cotton ones. Boing! But it was too late for me to cancel. So then I proceeded to make yet another  . I ordered one of the first two above while Kara watched to make sure I didn’t get it wrong again. After she’d gone, I  checked again on Amazon and found the cheaper, although still dear, bamboo socks. I believe I’d cancelled the first pairs and ordered the cheaper pairs instead – But no! I ordered two lots! I’ve not opened the packs yet; I’ll do that tomorrow. I feel like such a fool!
If anyone would like a 3-pack of gents long cotton socks.

I took a shot of the end car park this afternoon. Then the Fatigue and weariness, along with my body’s instruction to get some sleep, arrived.
I decided to get something to eat first after closing down the computer.
There were chips, beans, sausages, and a baguette. The JS baguette was too sweet for my liking and crumbled too easily.
As I got served up, the evening Carer Helen arrived. I’d not seen her for ages, I thought she’s left.
I planned to get a kip and then restart this blog. The best-laid plans of mice and men! Or, in Robert Burns’s original, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.”
Not a chance of nodding off. I even tried the TV again, but no luck.

I moved into the bed. Just as the night before, I got settled, and the catheter night pouch was hanging down. I lit the torch on the overbed table and got into the bed.
I nodded off pretty quickly again. No idea how long for; it felt like five minutes, and then kicked off striking at will. Well, Inchy! I got up, which wasn’t easy at all. In fact, I was a bit worried about this new ailment trait.  kept stinging, then failing. Not all the time, but regularly enough.

By the time I’d got a drink of spring water, tripped over the tubing, and I’d taken this Kodak Tim photo of the moon or sun. Sun, surely? Was it this early yet? I think I may have made another chronologically here.
I know, but even a man of my extreme intelligence, quickness and clarity of mind, and amazingly reliable super-concentration powers can make the rare, occasional mistake. Ahem! had stopped bothering me. I’m sure it is worse electric shock-wise when I get into the bed, but why?

I got down in search of sleep again, this time back in the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. It didn’t help. As tired out as I felt, either or both the body and brain would not let me sleep!
The Gits!

Beats me, the car? The feet? The phone, yes. 

TTFN