Ode Happy Inchy: Wednesday 1st January 2025

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PART ONE⅝
On my last visit to the Porcelain Throne,
Bleeding from my rear bottom, I’m prone…
No Carer called this morning, I was all alone,
Missed taking my Beta-blocker, Betamethasone,
I pondered on this while I was abluting…
But had to get on with my shaving,
It’s New Year’s Day, a Carer will soon be calling,
It takes time to recover from over-boozing,
Twitching-Neck-Ted, hurt my collarbone…
I can take Codeines while all alone,
But not the Beta blockers, or Prednisone,
I can rub in the cream, Hydrocortisone,
Phorpain & barrier cream on my private’s zone,
Can’t take the Finasteride, or Atorvastatin,
Omeprazole, Carers watch me taking,
Yes, the Carer will soon be appearing…
My Carer, who came at noon, was very caring…
But this is not unusual or over-alarming,
Covering holidays is difficult & frustrating,
Ailments? Parts of me were pulsating & shaking,
The worst is the pain near the breastbone,
That’s why I took a Betamethasone,
But the toothache was barely aching!
Electric Shock Sheida; hardly any stinging,
My vision was hampered by Gladys Glaucoma,
Moving chest pains, I blame them on Anne Gyna,
I had cramps, Little Inchie was bleeding,
Oh, I must take my Amoxicillin!

PART TWO¾
I wondered if Starmer is still lying & cheating?
Would he ever stop his backsheeshing?
I heard him blaming Tories, badmouthing…
He’s certainly not appealing, just appalling,
After fringe benefits, influence-peddling,
Schmears, kickbacks, open fiddling!
Bribes, sweeteners, is anyone checking?
On his hush-money & bung investing?
See his expenses for number crunching?
So often, the Oligarch’s been caught lying,
He’s like a Tory, I’m not guessing…
Pensioners & farmers will be dying…
He’ll be denying blame for the bloodletting,
He makes time for self-wealth searching…
He is an overblown urchin!
A snotbag, Grade-1. But I’m fibbing,
His habit of voters & union disregarding…
It will make proletariats’ life more gruelling!
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PART THREE⅘th
I begged guidance from those in the tabernacle,
Why did I fail? In things mental & physical?
I once found life was easy, enjoyable, a doddle,
Now, at nearly 80, there’s no one to cuddle…
I was genuine and loved being charitable,
PN, Arthritis, Cramps made me xenarthral,
Dementia, memory, seizures are awful,
Now, I find life is inexplicable, theoretical,
I loved a natter, gossip or twattle…
Seeing and hearing can be a battle,
Daily complications with my catheter tackle,
I can no longer voluntarily piddle,
My aorta valve is made of plastic & metal…
I feel as if I do not fit in anything tellural,
Success is no longer there or accomplishable,
Depressions are now giving me trouble,
Around 1969, life burst my bubble…
I don’t exactly walk; it is more of a hobble,
I was theistical, but it is now there’s so little,
Confusion, delusion, constant refusal…
Lies, murders, killings, wars, tarradiddle,
With Herr Killer Starmer on the fiddle!
Every nation’s decisions are incomprehensible…
to each other, and inscrutable, dubitable,
Earth’s leaders, moraless, in a shemozzle,
Oligarchs, criminals so sybaritical,
I’ve become a loser and comical…
Old age is the sum of a riddle!
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I grafted to catch up on the blog mess after getting to bed around 0400hrs THIS morning. I got my head down for three hours and had to get up for the Carer to arrive.
No Carer Arrived. Had to guess at the medications because I’ve not sorted them myself for many months. Also, I can no longer read the label instructions of the writing in the carer record book. I Pottered about not getting onto the computer because I may not have heard if the intercom went off if I had. So, I’ve had two missed calls on the trot! And had to gamble with the medications. I’ll know later if I got them wrong. Tsk!
A quickie blog from here on, as it is now 2100hrs, and I’ve to do the ablutions yet and get summat to eat. It’ll be morning again before I get to sleep. I’ll rush.
It’s not been a good year up to now.

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Release valveless nocturnal pouch.

Waste bins sorted.

Reet rainin’ this mornin’.

Phor!

End car park mudslide.

No Carer arrived, which is the same as last night.
Essential to get the medications right.
But I could not read the labels.

Topped up the Nurses’ and carers’ treat
box of nibbles. Wonder if I’ll ever see a
Carer again. Hehehe!

I made a brew, then changed the clock calendar and got it on the computer to make a belated start on the blog.

I found two snaps that I took last night and forgot to put the SD card into the camera. Better late than never.

At midday, Carer Chloe arrived. I explained that the last two Carer calls were not made last night and this morning. Well, New Year Booze, Mayhap? Har-Har! 

Kicked off.
Thankfully, I had some pain spray for the teeth.
It does ease things a bit.

Teatime views.

I’d spent a lot of time doing the odes at the top. 
And got little else done for hours.
Carer Promise arrived. Medications given. 

The legs looked better than yesterday.
I’ll not mention the fungal lesion that’s being
tugged at by the catheter tube bleeding.
Oh, I did! Hehehe!

A better shot of Devonshire Avenue.
It seems to be well-lit compared
to the other roads?

Nosh-Time now.
I regret to inform you that, once again, the picture taken of the cheesy potato, mushrooms and garden peas meal has done a bunk from Kodak’s SD card.
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TTFN
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