Month: September 2025

Inchie: Monday 29th September 2025

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At times, we can all get a feeling of melancholy,
Though maybe not members of the oligarchy,
Leading to depression & Godforsakenly,
Depression Darius, brings thoughts sepulchrally, 
When one copes with life, so inadequately…
You’ll end up feeling dejected, inconsolably,
You accept failures almost consentingly,
Wrongs beyond being put right, lamentably,
Each day brings challenges, physically,
On the same par as those mentally,
Seizures arrive unexpectedly, episodically,
Changing your responses, mostly erratically,
Often dwelling on thoughts elegiacally,
Bringing on doubts of your own mentality,
But I doubt you’re good at it, it’s your speciality…
As with fears, worries, making many a Whoopsie,
Accifauxpas, unaware, incogniscent of reality… 
Yet aware of life’s impracticality,
Self-hatred, self-lambasting daily, invariably,
Seventy-eight, but still acting adolescently,
Lacking in life experiences, still awaiting maturity, 
My infected brain shows a lack of ambiguity,
I missed out on debauchery, immorality, & indecency,
I was fondled in my youth by the Vicar of St Trinity,
Doreen’s Dementia brought me mental otiosity,
In the name of wealth, I feel repugnancy
I feel repugnancy at the world’s hostility…
I see the coming of worldwide anarchy,
Surrounded by complexity, difficulty… little subtlety,
Nothing to get one feeling a little chirpy…
I believe that Starmer acted reprehensibly,
When stealing the pensioners’ fuel subsidy,
Ruining family farmers, scandalously,
Taking backhanders from the Oligarchy,
Lying to the WASPI women atrociously,
Turn-coating, lying; reprehensibly!
Proving that was so untrustworthy,
He lied professionally at the Old Bailey,
He got into power, dishonestly…
He lied to win the Labour leadership, honestly!
Backed Corbyn’s policies, lyingly…
Said he’d cut tuition fees, wrongly,
National water, energy & the railway…,
He’s handed over UK fishing rights, the EU say,
For another 12 years, he’s loony!
Finding an honest MP? Hard work, operosity,
Now I study things, like universal ontosophy…
Thanks to my much belated opsimathy,
I see Starmer & Putin seeking omnipotency,
While living my last years so obsequiously,
World leaders are full of self-greed and obstinacy,
Populations now adopting discord, oppugnancy,
Curiosity, AI, political mendacity, no Omniety,
Some Governments are showing signs of ochlocracy,
Less compassion, too much oppositionality,
Even those who are not a democracy,
Keirs ace at deceit, lying and knavery…
Swindling, double-dealing, repeatedly!
Ditched Labour core values, acrimoniously,
Sneeringly, derisively, nastily & offensively,
Just think, life was meant to go algorithmically,
Procedurally, systematically, methodologically,
Programmatically, formulaically, and undeniably…
If you study these tips, investigatively…
Other options, such as malodorously,
Then, mysteriously, musingly, then melancholy,
So back to Starmer, who is not deprecatory…
And is not a Socialist, more like a Tory,
But I come to the end of this Ode, or story,
Not depressed, but feeling a little effervescently,
As High-Mood-Horis paid another visit to Inchie!
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Here we go again! Thud!
I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on around me, lately. Problems, difficulties, farces, memory lapses, seizures, bad news, and a mind that didn’t really seem to be mine at all. It may not be!

25 minutes spent on the Porcelain Throne this morning. 

Carer Ejaz arrived and set about sorting me out. He dealt out the prescription medications. Performed a body check, resulting in some creaming of the ankle and legs, and pain in the back and both Cartilages, affecting Chloe and Carol. And barrier creamed my lower regions front and back. Then became my saviour for the first time today. I was searching earlier for the charging plug for the vacuum cleaner. Could I find it? No! I spent ages searching, eventually giving up, and hoped Carer Ejaz might know where it was. It (I thought at the time) was certainly not in the main room, after all, I’d been ferreting and searching for it for that long. I asked if he knew where it was, and he started looking around. Within three minutes, he was handing me the missing plug. I’d left it on the black side table, and with the plug being the same colour, I managed not to see it during my panicky search. Fool? Me? Yes!
Ejaz graded the urine in the nocturnal pouch, then emptied it for me. He’s a good lad. I’d be lost without him calling. Ejaz then helped me with the BP checks, ensuring the Arithmaphobia had allowed me to write the correct numbers for each item in the Excel list.

I popped out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park on Citrus Way, through the window. It didn’t come out well.

Elaz filled a bowl of hot water and disinfectant for me to wash my tootsies in and departed on his way. I’m getting close to being capable of doing this task nowadays. I use large kitchen towels to dry the feet on, using the picker-upperer to dry them off.

The blotching on the left leg was far less than it had been. It still amazes me how these can change daily; they looked great on the left leg, but not so with the right one. You can see the difference in the photo on the left here. The Cartilages seemed less bothersome this morning as well. And the legs had lost all of their swelling. Amazing, back to chicken legs now.

I took a snap catching the shadows made as the sun rose from behind the flats. It reminded me of a castle casting its shadow. 

I started much belatedly on yesterday’s blog catch-up. I had the only recognised seizure of the morning, a mini-one, and you would not believe how Much I was disoriented when I came out of it. It lasted for hours and never really cleared up at all. My concentration was crippled for the rest of the day. 
Talk about cock-ups! As I recall, I uploaded the photos to the wrong page in CorelDraw, placing them on Mondays, not Sundays. Even more time lost, losing precious time again. That was eventually corrected, except for my mistake of putting the wrong cartoon on each. Grumph!
I made a Morrison order for Tuesday after next. Then I would start wandering about, taking on other jobs and not finishing them as I found another to do. I suspect I was afraid of making more mistakes on the blog, which is why I avoided doing the very thing I set out to do. I hope you’re following this, because I’m struggling, and not a bit.

The Nurse from Cardiac called about the blood and heart monitors being set up. Giving me a chance to avoid getting back on the blog.

Then, to avoid making of bigger mess on the blog, I phoned Sister Jane. As I rang off, depressing Darius arrived and has stayed with me all day, up to now. 

Then I thought it would be better than messing up the blog, so I’d Speed Mop the kitchen floor. Could I find the speedmop? No, of course not. 

Ejaz called. Always glad to see the lad, even on a ten-minute visit. For the second time today, the lad was a saviour. He found the mop, not only that, but I think he recognised my uptight mood; he mopped the floor for me, before leaving on his way to his next client.
A kind lad, indeed. Thanks, Ejaz!

I reluctantly got the computer booted to try and force myself of of this Depression Darius mood.
It did not work!
While making notes of things to go on the blog, I thought the computer must have gone into sleep mode. So, O tapped the enter key a few times… that didn’t do anything. So, as the depression deepened, and the self-lambasting started… the mobile burst forth. It was the Doctor’s surgery, where I was told to expect a call tomorrow about the prescription medications. I was feeling so down that I didn’t ask what it was about or at what time; I just thanked her, saying that was alright, I’d be in all day. I was going to add, night, week, month, unless I have another tumble of the heart gives out, or jump off the balcony and snuff it – but I didn’t.

Carer Ejaz arrived, and I felt obligated to thank the lad for his help and explain how and why I was not my usual cheery self today. Obviously, I am greatly missing .
He appeared out of nowhere three months ago. He solved nothing, but installed a marvellous never had before “Sod-Em-All” attitude in me, that was abso-bloody-lutely brilliant! He visited me once while I was in hospital… Great! However, I haven’t seen or heard of him since. I could spit!
If ever he was needed, he is now!

I may be feeling a tad sorry for Horis’s missing?

I got the bread out to defrost and set about making a vegetable stew, of sorts… or something of that nature. Casserole? Soup?

HEALTH & SAFETY TIP OF THE DAY
Scenario: You’ve opened a tin of peas & carrots.
Cleaned and trimmed some red spring onions, sliced them, and added them to the stewpot. Then, I opened a can of water chestnuts and sliced a few up to add to the faux stew. Slice the just-boiled potatoes and mix them in the dish. Lastly, you add some fresh sliced tomatoes and red peppers from a jar.
You place them in a microwave dish, and put them in the oven… Then… you get distracted by the sunshine coming out, and decide to go on the balcony to take a photo – this doesn’t happen, because, and this is the H&S Tip bit.
When going into the medical-equipment-filled balcony, don’t get carried away with the gorgeous sky. There is every chance (like tonight) that you will walk into the sticking-out metal footrests of the wheelchair. This is not recommended!
Result!

Then, after a quick wipe and Germolen applied, back to the overcooked stew thingamajig.
Nice, all the same.

🤞🏻TTFN, EACH! 🤞🏻

Inchie: Sunday 28th September 2025

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Inchy felt below par in mind & body, the fool has put the wrong Ode Intro graphic title on here. This is nothing unique; the plonker has done this before. But at least he got the colour of the lettering nearly right. He expects retribution to be exacted, as it was last night. Yes, from Thought-Storming-Steve. Serves the uninhibited twit right! He’s sorry!
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Ah, the wind is blowing, as I try to get the car going…
Twas my old three-wheeled Reliant Robin,
She was aged when I bought her. She keeps stopping,
I thought it was the fuel filter, cause when I got her going,
The engine & plastic body were shuddering and shaking,
She stopped again, near a garage, so I pulled in…
Asked if I could give the RAC a ring…
Two hours later, I saw the RAC man arriving, 
Walked down to the roadway to greet him; it was raining, 
Both of us soaked, I asked the man who was serving…
If he minded if we used his WC to get dried in,
Which we did, a sociable man, we were joking…
As we left, we saw his motorbike & sidecar had been stolen,
No brooding or moaning; well, a little cursing,
I gave him a lift in my rain-soaked, now-working Robin,
To the RAC base, next to the pub, The Farmers Bobbin,
Then on to work, the rain was still coming…
I got to work late after all the kerfuffling,
What happened took some chymifying…
I told the boss what happened, but I was laughing…
I got the sack, he thought I was lying!
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More True Tales of Woe to follow,
That is, if the BP does not stay so low,
I’m running so far behind, I’ll have to go.
Not on holiday to Acapulco…
But to see my friend, Angelino…
He still owes me £150, you know,
No problem, just thought I’d let you know. 💟
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One of those terrible, LESS days.
Everything was a problem, a handicap, mingled with annoying blanks, and I was mentally all over the place. Monday, when I eventually started this blog, although feeling calmer, and the much-appreciated, even if only temporarily, departure of Anne Gyne and Toothache Tiffany, I struggled to get things in order, and some photos I cannot recall taking, but the date on the SD card told me I had taken them on Sunday.
So, I’m already behind again with the blog. With all the extra diabetic blood tests, limping slowly around with the sticks, and my mind still floating from subject A to B, I found myself doing subject C, forgetting to go back to do A and B.
I often sense that I’ve got something wrong. I’m forever going back to the kitchen to see if I’ve left the oven on, fridge or freezer doors open, or my most common mistake, left the hot water to run cold. This often hinders the washing or hand-laundering that I’d planned to do, and I become more confused and further behind with things that need doing, but don’t get done. The frustration grows, the solution being so far out of reach, beyond me.
The ablutions are now taking me a lot longer to complete. Two hours, even without having a shower. Carer Ejaz gets annoyed with me when I try to rush things or bend down to pick anything up that I’ve dropped on the floor; bless him, he has the best of intentions. He fears me ending up back in the hospital, knowing what a nightmare it was last time. Bless him. Tells me to leave them if the picker-upper cannot get them, and he will check on his next call if anything has been dropped in a dangerous place.
So, I apologise if things get out of order, are missed, or are duplicated. It’s hard work today (Monday) concentrating without getting sidetracked of thoughts and tasks that disrupt my intended pattern of plans and intentions.
This paragraph flowed too easily for my liking.
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Here I go, at last…
Bedded down at 00:10 hours, and into a broken, every now and then, sleep, forcing myself to dismount the bed at about 05:00hrs.
Carer Ejaz arrived a few minutes later as I was in the wet room battling to free the dark brown, solid, bobbly nuggets of the Constipation Konrad evacuation.
It was a long, arduous, painful task, needing a lot of urging.
Ejaz foamed the left lower leg lesions and issued the prescription medications. Gave me some extra Laxido to counteract the recent issues.
Did a body check, Porpain gelling Cartilage Chloe, and my lower back above the bottom, which he checked and reported as being bloodless. Then he barrier creamed under my flabby belly, the right arm, and the right testicle. Reminded me to take at least one stick with me whenever I moved to another room, and scolded me for bending down to pick things up. He was right, of course, he usually is, bless him. Within minutes of Ejaz’s departure, I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne again. I felt a little less resistant this time, but it did cause a bit of bleeding from Haemmorhoid Harold.

Made a start of Saturday’s blog, at the same time making several stupid errors that cost me hours to correct. Then, the return of the seizures. Then, the first one made things even worse, as it came in the middle of my trying to put right the earlier problems and foul-ups that I’d made. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it felt like it was a long one. Because when I returned in incomprehensible confusion and disorientation, it cleared so quickly. I’ve noticed that the longer ones are so much easier and quicker to recover from. Luckily, I hadn’t continued working on the blog… when that happens, it is so time-consuming and annoying having to correct the errors I’d made in the seizure. For some unknown reason, I abandoned correcting of my earlier blogging mistakes on the blog and went to the kitchenette. I got the orange/brown nightshirt handwashed and hung it up to drip-dry on a hanger in the wet room shower rail. 
I took a snap of the kitchen window view. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but this photo had a hue that was nothing like the one in the camera’s eye-viewer when I took it.

Ejaz made a quick call, and I returned to the blog to correct so many errors that even I couldn’t believe that I’d made so many of them.

During Carer Ejaz’s teatime call, he checked, as I did, the PM Health Checks to ensure I had them right. Because the morning ones were so low, back in the danger zone.

I recall taking these cloud shots from the balcony, where I went to picture the end car park, but got carried away with the beauty of these clouds in the blue sky. I saw so many shapes within them… as any other addicted to pareidolia, like me, would.

I had to abandon blogging and finish it later; I’ll catch up in the morning. Suddenly attacked, this time including the foul, acrid taste coming up from the stomach; similar to the ones that come up after a nocturnal seizure. Concentration goes out of the window; concentration becomes a memory.
I think I rested in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, and put the TV on. Fell asleep (or had a seizure) and woke up on top of the bed, the acidulous taste lingering, twixt my stomach and my mouth.
I urged my body off of the bed, and got the stick, off to the wet room to use some mouthwash & Peptac.
Within a few minutes, the acerbic taste dissipated, and my thoughts turned to food… I investigated what was available in the refrigerator and freezer.
I created rather than cooked up this little feast.
Country sausage (ready-cooked), cubed potatoes oven-baked, Water chestnuts, and roast chestnuts.
Very nice!

Out of the blue, a nurse arrived, apologising for calling on a Sunday. Someone is coming on Tuesday. Thinking I had been informed about her visit for today. (Naturally, I may well have been and I’d forgot about it – it could happen to anyone… but, odds are this is what happened). I am to have a home heart and blood monitor installed. She will return on the delivery day, letting me know the day before, and guide me and a Carer on how to use it. That was a nice gesture. She gave me a number to ring, should the BP be any lower than it was today. Advised me to pack a bag with things needed, just in case. Towel, pyjamas, razors, foam, prescription toothpaste & brush, slippers, etc. And not to forget my mobile, hearing aids & batteries, spectacles and a list of medications I take.

The Cardiac & DVT nurses, as well as the District Nurse, are also due to change or renew their long-overdue appointments . So, don’t fret if I’m unable to post a blog on Tuesday. As Arni said, “I’ll be back!” Hahaha! I might not even be going anywhere.

Another pretty view from the kitchenette window.

Ejaz made his last call, insisting that I get to bed early and try to get more sleep. Which gave me an inner excuse not to wash and shave, Hehe!

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🤎 Please Taketh Care, Each! 🤎
 And have a good kip, if you can
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Inchie: Saturday 27th September 2025

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1 believe I came across a phenomenon,
A prognostication visiting the psychometrician,
The man was a bit of a pecksniffian…
He asked if I indulge in procreation…
He noticed my tackle was positively pygmean,
We didn’t get as far as any prognostication,
One trait I have plenty of is being plebeian,
His suggestion, for my next Odes pultrusion…
My ailments & failures, now in profusion,
Said my heart failure is down to poor perfusion,
I’m not sure if he was a Doctor, a homoeopath, or a surgeon…
A consultant, obstetrician, or a prison physician,
Was it I or he who was the pigwidgeon?
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Ejaz graded this dollop as a 7½ rating.

Carers desk.
Rubbish bags.

Washed nightshirt hanging to dry

A murder of crows.
Regaining their territory. Young ones searching for carrion in the end car park. All part of parent training.

A much-belated start on this blog.

Must call Sister Jane in the morning. And Jenny, too.

A day of without a single visit from, also perhaps the brain-foggiest one since I got back from the hospital.
The increased pain from the knee fractures was tolerable. However, they eased suddenly at night, and for hours I could walk about with relatively little pain. Naturally, in the morning, they were back again, but it was an unexpected experience that I enjoyed. But I would have preferred to have had a visit from . Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany were both far less painful, too.
It was my brain that worried me a smidgeon. Active, but wayward, and when I got to sleep, activated and ruined what otherwise would have been a decent 5-hour kip.
Constantly waking up, and getting back asleep, only to find that was waiting for me. I got to the point of trying not to nod off again, and lay there mind-blankly waiting fearfully for the inevitable dropping off again, and of course, he just would not leave me alone. Churning over past errors, options taken, guilt creating and multiple embarrassing memories… non-stop. Of course, I am aware that it is me, my warped brain. This was like a self-lambasting, everlasting nocturnal period of self-hatred. Despite the knee agony that had returned, I had to go through the pain of getting up to go to the Porcelain Throne… and that was still controlled by , and only wind was passed. But that was better than listening and arguing with myself mentally. Steve had not been bothering me for ages; even in the hospital, he was noticeable by his absence.
I suppose I’ll have to mention this to the Neurologist at the meeting. Here, on the blog, I just tell it as it is. But sitting face-to-face with someone to say to them is a different experience. Hey-ho!
You never know, I might wake up in the morning, somersault out of bed while yodelling and do a backflip… free of pain, vision and hearing repaired and working, or not.

And that was only a fleeting morning visit.


I believe my brain has lost its perception
logicality, discrimination & elucidation

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Inchie: Friday 26th September 2025 – Medical appointments flooding in

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Pondering his theme, for his Ode this Friday…
Sometimes an idea comes to him immediately,
But you know Inchies’ unreliable memory!
His themes get intermingled, like a musical medley,
Differing, wrong words creep in meddlesomely,
Guaranteeing the resulting ode is, at best, mediocrity,
Gets a phone call or visit, back to his odeing for Inchie,
His themes and ideas, now written nonsensically…
The chances of a Seizure will naturally…
Inspire a blank brain, ideas, inspirations go aborally,
He waits for the return of logicality, contemptibly,
Starts feeling sorry for himself, self-piteously,
Which leaves his creativity in assymmetry…
Dawns, distressingly,
does not show up; depressingly,
Inchie stops, can’t cope, has had enough… feels sleepy?
Inchie climbed into bed, but it was agony…
From the thrice-fractured left hand and knee,
Carer Ejaz assisted me, helpfully…
To get stood up back on my knee… 
Ah, that stirred a thought, for me personally, 
My Fracture Clinic appointment at the QMC!
I have to arrange transport for Friday, October 23,
Both ways, to be at the fracture clinic for 13:30,
Carer Ejaz called & spotted another Inchie whoopsie!
The appointment was for 22nd October, not for 23…
He’s aware of my problems physically & mentally…
Checked an online order, I’d ordered a Christmas Tree!
He did not act in any way risibly…
Just cancelled it, and had a laugh with me!
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I reluctantly woke up. Realised how late it was for me, gone 06:00hrs – and forced myself through the agony of the much-fractured left knee pains up on my feet.
In the midst of this suffering, I had a visit, the first in a week or so, from Anne Gyna.
She seemed to be concentrating on my mid-chest area, which at first made me a bit concerned that it might not be Anne, but rather another new ailment related to the ticker. But by the time I’d done my morning balance testing, she’d nipped around the right side and had a stab at the left side of the neck, then returned to concentrate on the chestbone area, so I knew it was Anne Gyna and had stopped fretting about the situation. A pain you know, is better than any new pains, methinks.

I saved some of the contents after emptying the nocturnal catheter pouch into the pot I keep for such matters, so Carer Ejaz could check the colour.

I hobbled into the wet room for a fruitless and movement-free evacuation. Still, there was nothing to clean up. Hehe!  The other three visits of the day were all the same. An extraordinary amount of wind escapage, but no movement from the innards, torpedo-wise. Mmm!

The much-fractured left knee seemed even more painful today. (And it got worse on Saturday!

I got stripped and ready to tackle the medicationing and have a good scrub-up, and Carer Ejaz came.
He found some out-of-date things in the fridge and removed them for me. He told me to remember to check them every day and to remind him to… We both laughed out loud as we realised what he’d just said; His telling-me-of-frown melted in a big grin, as he saw the look of credibility on my face, and he said, “Oh, I realise what I just said – I asked you to remind me!” The shared laughter had us both in a fun mood in seconds. We do have a laugh regularly, but this one was even funnier than ever. Hahaha!
Me, remind him? There would be a greater chance of Herr Starmer admitting he’s incapable, a liar, and then topping himself. (But we all need hope).

I think Ejaz and I both missed each other while I was incarcerated in the Cardiac, Geriatric and Fracture Wards in the Queens Medical Centre for so long. With dear, sweet Jenny welcoming me back and the joy on Ejaz’s face when I got home, those moments were precious for me. I am a big softy!

Ejaz got the diabetic sock on my feet. Did a body check and Porpained gelled the knees and cartilages. He spotted a red patch under my right arm and put some Barrier cream on for me. 
He read the letter from the fracture clinic and was dubious about their suggestion that if I stayed off my feet, things might improve without the need for surgical intervention, given my age.

Back to the wet room, and took another failed evacuation. Seems it is the turn of Conrad Constipation to rule things for a while.

I am now at the page, where I was writing things down while in a mini-seizure. Cause it appears a lot of things started happening, but most of them are unreadable scribbles and far too meaningless, with the odd line of clarity. A bit like Ex-Barrister and Pensioner-Robbing Starmer? The event that followed lasted for approximately five hours. About a quarter of the notes here were readable, so a lot was missing. Even Ejaz couldn’t make them out. The odd words that I was certain of have comments of a “take-it-with-a-pinch-of-salt” about them. 

A letter from the fracture clinic. I managed to get mixed up with it in classic “Inchie Style”. Saturday, Ejaz pointed out I’d recorded the appointment in the Google Calendar for the wrong day and time.
Hard to believe, I know! Well…

A District nurse called on me to ask a load of questions. I could not make out anything else I wrote about this, but it was a page & a bit long.

A phone call (Mobile) from the Neurosurgeon’s office arrived. After a few minutes, as I didn’t understand much of what was said, we lost the connection. This new mobile phone is rubbish!

Another call from the DVT Warfarin Unit came in (Landline). An appointment has been made for October 1st for the Warfarin Blood Test. I think they are responding to each of the blood tests taken in the hospital, I was having about eight a day, I reckon. I’ve got pretty bruise patterns on both arms and the back of each hand; they are fading now, just as I was getting used to them. Laugh? Yes?

The following three items were unreadable. Possibly, I was writing them while in a Seizure, the nurse said. How can that be? Beats me.

Rubbish bins tackled.

Can’t recall taking this.

Ejaz, on his teatime call, spotted that the burgers in the fridge had sell-by dates for today.
So, I’ll get them done with some chips for supper.

I tried to sort out how to take the wheelchair pads on and off. Hehe! Not the foggiest idea!

Bootifull!
For an unknown reason, I got chest pains after, even while eating this meal. Indigestion, I imagine. Taking Peptac didn’t ease it at all. I took a Codeine 30g.

An amazing sky tonight.

I got a late landline call from the DVT Warfarin lady. They will be calling on me on the 1st of October to take blood for testing. I feel I got a call like this yesterday. But who knows what’s going on? It’s indeed not me. My mind has always been confused over the last few days. I’ve been saved several times from making a blunder by Carer Ejaz (4), Sweet Jenny (2) and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden Deana (1).
I’m not exactly in a confident mood whatsoever at the moment. My mind seems to be changing from incompetent to… well, it’s not working correctly at all. High-Mood-Horis has abandoned me. My evacuations have gone from watery, not making it to the Porcelain Throne in time, to over the last two days, nothing but wind has passed from my rear end. I must ask Carer Ejaz to give me some Laxido. I dare not ask him until tomorrow, for fear of nocturnal torrents escaping while I’m in bed tonight. I suppose I’m morphing into a mental & physical wreck. Oh, I like that description, oh yes, spot on, and witty!

Which will go first, I wonder? The ticker’s obviously now an odds-on favourite. Maybe Duodenal Donald, or now that she’s back and in good form, maybe Anne Gyna will nobble me? 

Ideally, whichever ailment or body part that knobbles me… I might make a an odds list? Hehe!
Which ailment will have me over? Cartilage Chloe? The newly fractured left knee? Anne Gyna? Water on the brain? Will Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding? No, the ticker failing is my favourite. If only High-Mood-Horis would visit with his gift of installing one of his amazingly satisfying “Sod-them-all” moods. Then it wouldn’t matter. Not that it matters much anyway. If High-Mood-Horis would only pay me a visit. Especially when Dark-Dank-Depressing Darius is dawning without warning, and his blessed “Sod-them-all” mood, would be so welcome.

There’s no question nor doubt about it…

As I was writing this, ♫Oh, Susana♫ burst from the door chime as Carer Ejaz made his last call. Glad to see him, I always am. But, unfortunatley, after he’d departed, I’d forgotten what I was going to write, and what there was no question nor doubt about!
But I’m there was no doubt… Sad,innit?

Humph! Thank heavens for Ejaz coming.

# = # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #
Have a Blessed Peaceful Day!
# = # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #

Inchie Today for: Sunday 7-24thSept 2025. Hospitalised Again

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

No photographs or graphics, I’m afraid. A cartoon.
Due to waking up at about 05:00 hours and foolishly not allowing myself time to do the balance exercises, as I was still a day behind on my blogging. And decided that getting washed, shaved, and medicated was a good idea, so I’d crack on with making this blog’s template nice and early. That was, if I remember rightly, the plan I had in mind. However…
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Sunday 7th Septsoddittember.
Dizzy Dennis sent me down in an instant, a painful, crumpled heap, in agony, but I still fell asleep, alert, alarm activated, waiting for the ambulance. Carer Ejaz arrived to wake me, then the ambulance collected me. I was taken first to the A&E. Then, I was off to the GAU (Geriatric Accident Unit) at the QMC. Bone fractures in my finger, wrist, and four in my left knee. Three weeks later, and the hip & back pains are still bothering me, ever since returning home yesterday. 24th Sept, Wednesday.
Monday 8th Septsoddittember.
Visits in the ward from Social Workers wanting to help me, nothing happened, naturally. A jolly-looking lady from Physical Therapy, a Doctor, chatted about Peripheral Neuropathy. Things may be out of order, chronologically… I almost guarantee.
Tuesday 9th Septsoddittember.
No paper left, the pen ran out of ink, sadly,
One cleaning teeth session for this internee.
Moved to Cardiac, more tests, you see!
Wednesday 10th Septsoddittember.
Shaveless, visionless, deaf, nurses emptying out my pee,
Rear-end evacuations repetitively…
Transitioning from concrete to wet and runny.
Thursday 11th Septsoddittember.
Sister Jane came to see me with Pete, her hubby,
More diagnostic imagery in Radiology,
The rest of the day was spent in painful reflexology.
Back for more tests and another X-ray.
On the hip & wrist this time, not on the knee,
Friday 12th Septsoddittember.
Friday’s fish and chip meal, I ate it voraciously…
The rear-end evacuations went uncontrollably,
A night of swearing, howling, and muttering,
Obviously, some patients were suffering…
Then they started shouting & arguing,
The nurses carried on blood taking…
Saturday 13th Septsoddittember.
My lowest to date BP reading…
Sys 93, Dys 33, Blood count 23!
Worried about this? Me?
Couldn’t give a toss at the time, actually.
Sunday 14th Septsoddittember.
Five minutes later, nurses from Cardiology
descended, and I was surrounded… lucky Inchy!
To take another reading, needles in, but I was not bleeding?
Eventually, they managed to get the blood trickling…
The colour was orange, the amount was piffling!
I was moved back to the cardiology Wing!
They gave me some of the blood sugar booster,
The medics seemed to be all in a flutter…
They said after that I’d asked for bread & butter,
Monday 15th Septsoddittember.
All drugged up, mind & thoughts unsure…
Stirred back to consciousness, aware,
The medic’s efforts had been sustentacular,
Blood count now showing 89 – 59, Spectacular!
Tuesday 16th Septsoddittember.
Back to the cardiac unit, the drugs soon had me sleeping,
I was quickly aware that I was dreaming,
Yet felt the mild ankle electric shocks shooting…
Up my leg, which was doing its own thing, trembling,
The nurse thought I was panicking & seizing.
Wednesday 17th Septsoddittember.,
There were fairies on the bed, tapdancing…
I could even see their eyes twinkling, faces smiling,
Realising then, I was having a bed-bath & towelling,
Somewhere in my mind I was tabogganing…
Then thought no, it was more like falling,
And nodded into peaceful sleeping,
I heard music, someone bag-piping?
His hand beckoning me… silently calling,
Thursday 18th Septsoddittember,
Woke up properly in Ward C54, red Zone,
A battleground with no time to cavort,
The atmosphere here had gone all wrought,
How we got through it, with staff & patients unhurt…
However, actual violence, we did thwart.
Friday 19th Septsoddittember,
Bedridden oldies, some naked, a few in a nightshirt,
Patience was beginning to run short,
Swearing, name-calling, had they been given drugs to snort?
Threats of violence, in which I was upcaught!
Saturday 20th Septsoddittember,
They kicked off again in the morning,
While I was undergoing my walking frame training,
Herbert, the worst one, started threatening…
A nurse who was calming him, well, trying…
He put his head down towards her, bullying, cursing,
This made my blood boil, I was fuming,
I launched at him,  was stopped by a Doctor & therapist,
Security arrived, taking him down with degust,
I’m usually a pacifist and altruist,
I approached the bully with his folded fist…
His intimidating a nurse made me subverst,
Was this a psychiatric ward? I was guilty, no pretence,
We all had neurological and or psychiatric psychosis,
I was spoken to by a neuropsychiatrist,
I went to the man to apologise, but he got in first…
Said he was so sorry,
We both acted shamefully!
When things blew up again later, I reacted more calmly,
Ensuring I was never again a haranguer.
Sunday 21st Septsoddittember,
Informed that tomorrow, I’d be leaving,
Informed the staff of Inchie Today, blogging,
Pleased, I was told by many doctors,
Of many upcoming appointments,
One with a neuropsychiatrist…
Rearrange missed appointments,
First, with the audiologist,
Then with the Sherwood Dentist,
Warfarin and Deep Vein Thrombosis,
Monday 22nd Septsoddittember,
My leaving was delayed today,
Perhaps it will be done on Tuesday?
Through three arterial blood gas (ABG) tests,
67 at its highest was the best,
Time for another session on the oxygen mask,
And rich foods to avoid cyanosis,
I’ll look this up when I get home, see what it is.
Monday 22nd Septsoddittember,
Early morning blood oxygen level is even lower, 
I can only hate & blame Starmer! 
To me, this doesn’t show adversity,
Fed ultra-sweet stuff, persistently, Sickeningly,
Misadventures, afflictions, never-ending calamity,
Mistakes, errors, life’s incompatibility…
Frustration, depression, apprehension… 
Surviving had been my vocation,
Until insanity found my location,
I’ve never been anything like a vaurian,
Look up what it’s like to suffer verbigeration,
Oligarchs see wealth as being Utopian, 
This waffling off subject, nears its conclusion…
I’m now tired, baffled and full of confusion…
At life’s cruel creeping transubstantiation,
I’m no philosopher, scholar or theoretician,
In fact, I’m bonkers, there’s an admission!
I’m a mentally affected phenomenon…
I’ll finish this Ode with some trepidation, 
Then take my tablets for constipation,
Things may improve after my trephination?
If considered necessary by my neurosurgeon,
Anyway, the QMC released Inchy…
On 24th Septsoddittember, Wednesday.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I had a lift home in an ambulance, had a joke or two with the ambulance men, and got them laughing en route.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Although it was a right mess that required cleaning up. 
No one had responded to my request to inform Blogger Paul of my incapacitation. In fact, the Warden did not even know I’d been in the hospital! But I was so glad to be home, and took some photographs of the kitchen sky views when I got in before doing anything else.

Oh, I missed these cloud formations,
Just love them.
Enough pleasuring for a moment, I 
had to check the dates of the food in
the fridge. Then remembered I called Deana
to tell her I was coming out, so as to speak,
Hehe, and she’d checked them earlier for me. 👍🏼❤

Then, Carer Ejaz arrived. We’d missed each other over the QMC holiday (sarcasm there, Hahaha!)
He did a grand job with the laundry and sorted all the medical paperwork I had been sent home with for me. Checked the catheter bag and body welts. I’d got a lot of them, with all that time I’d spent lying in the hospital bed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I got a call from Jenny in a flat below, bless her.
She came up to see me and we had a natter. That was precious to me, a lovely lady, and it was she who rang Deana and Julie about my blog not being published. And since her back was so painful when she had to stand and walk, she made the effort to welcome me back.
❤❤❤❤❤
An Angel – Bless you, Jenny XXX

Then the phone calls started coming in, which only confused me further, but they were all about medical matters. ICC (Carers) had arranged a Carer (Ruby) to give me a lift to the Doctors for the blood samples to be taken on Thursday. Smashing!
The Lady rang, confusing me about the appointment with the Nuthall bonkers house assessment being cancelled, until after the Neuropathy Surgeon had interviewed me. Nurse Rebecca came to ask about what had happened at the hospital. She then checked my legs and ankles, and arranged for a much belated catheter contraption renewal, but I can’t recall when it is for.
Next, the DVT Warfarin clinic rang.
Carer Ruby ran me to the Doctors for the blood test, and my beautiful, desirable, caring Nurse Caroline took it, and passed on messages to Ruby about the Warfarin home visits being cancelled until the 1st of November. Then a new Warfarin dosage arrived. Still too high, with a change. By now, I was struggling to get a grip on the flood of changes coming in. 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Ejaz had got a grip of the medication dosage changes, though.
Thankfully!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Got some nice evening shots.
From the kitchenette window.
It is now 02:25hrs! Tired out, I am, and 
must get something to eat.
Sweet & Sour vegetables with sausage, accompanied by Gung Po sauce, and cheesy bread rolls.
I think I’ve uploaded the wrong photo here.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Friday already, no sleep, all the hassles of the day, and now the damaged knee has been joined by pain from Anne Gyna, which worsens when standing, sitting, or walking. Humph!

Bedtime now, or is it worth it at 03:00hrs?
Better wash the pots first and do the safety checks.

Oh, Ejaz made a quick visit, Porpain gelled the knee and my back for me. I think he’s a grand lad.

Cheers Each
All The Bestest!

Oh, I forgot, I found this photo on the web of British cigarettes from the 1950s and 1960s. The equivalent of about 17½p a packet.
Did a check on today’s prices on Google.
A pack of 20 cigarettes in the UK currently costs between approximately £14.00 and £18.00, with the average price for January 2025 reported at £ 16.40.
Good job, I stopped years ago. Who can afford them at these prices?
Oh, yes, Oligarchs!

PEACE!

Inchie: Saturday 6th September 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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The power of Hope, an emotional force that instils meaning,
Optimism, anticipation, aspiration, and yearning…
While all around us, people are killing and demeaning,
Oligarchs, their reasons for existence are self-prospering,
Power, ruling, financial gain, self-wealth accumulating,
What percentage of their profit are they donating?…
To war victims, innocents, to stop the war’s killing?
The dying, homeless, blind, diseased and starving?
Selling rockets, tanks, ammunition, to powers warring!
There are those out there, I’m always applauding…
Greenpeace, RSPCA, the NHS, all financially-struggling, 
Gangsters so violent, mugging, drug-selling & taking,
Burgling, carjacking, stabbing, and shooting,
Our PM has been pensioners & farmers robbing,
Former barrister? That’s why he’s an Ace at lieing,
His porkie-pies have been amassing,
I’m looking towards his passing…
To Heaven or Hell, I’ll be happy death-knelling

Today was another cock-up ridded, frustrating mess of a day. I am now even further behind with everything than I ever have been. With little sleep last night, I’m not feeling up to my usual blog writing, which I really enjoy. I’ll skip many things, but try to mention the calamities and frustrations.

I Fank You!

Woke up, made some pots, and had some Detox tea; the bruised leg had improved no end. Anne Gyna was kind, but Toothache Tiffany countered that a bit today.

Carer Nimra got the diabetic socks on my feet, gave me the medication, and did the following two calls. Lunch, then at teatime.

A District nurse called to check on my leg. No need for any plasters, she said, but left one just in case it leaked again. I apologised for bothering her.

A MAMMOTH SEIZURE.
I had no idea what I was doing while out of it, but things had changed from their previous state, and I’d taken off my protective underpants. Left the hot water tap running. I found that my fungal lesion was bleeding. What the heck had I been doing?

The Iceland delivery arrived.
The driver was not in a good mood. My EQ told me something was annoying him.
It was a large order.
Managed to get some bleach at last.
Best chips available.

Snapped the end car park after I’d got the delivery stored away.

Got into blogging.

Nimra made a call.

I checked the leg-damaging machine on the balcony. I tried to figure out how to turn the feet thingies inwards, but no luck.

THEN, I COULDN’T BELIEVE THE ABSOLUTELY STUPID THING THAT I’D DONE!
A second duplicate order arrived from Iceland!
I reckon the driver knew about this earlier, and that’s why he was so pissed-off with me.
Positively anti-social this visit!
Depression Darius Dawned, and I just couldn’t think what made me order two for the same day?
Kirchen towels galore, now.
Even more mineral and soda waters!
The fridge filling was a work of art, but I still couldn’t fit everything in!
I was ashamed and angry at myself at the same time.
I rang Jenny and asked her to take some of the duplicated dated items and issue them to whoever wanted them. Iced coffees galore as well. Breads, croissants, etc.
I was feeling really down and lacking confidence now! I took the carrier of food down to Jenny’s apartment. Guess what?
I got out of the lift on the wrong floor! Not that it bothered me so much, but it was the continuation of errors that got to me. I rang Jenny’s bell and handed her the carrier bag, explaining that I had got out of the lift on the wrong level. She smiled and said she did that as well. Hehe! She is a treasure.🤎

I got back to my cell… I mean, flat, to find that this time I’d left the cold water tap running!

What next, I thought; I’ll tell you…
I was back on the computer, having accomplished so little, and all the time was lost due to my own incredulity. Scepticism and doubt about my errors, along with worry over my future.
I can’t go on like this. I’m praying someone from Social Services calls or reads this blog. I need help.

Carer Nimra made her last call. I told her of my rotten day. That did nothing solution-wise, of course.

SHIT!
The long standing prob;;em of shortage o memoru came up again Nagkrangles!

Computer gone so slow,
Telling me various things will no longer be able to be saved or stored?

I may be on my last blog, so I’ll try to save it and send it.
Otherwise, it’s all a waste of time; no one will know. Cheers

Inchie: Friday 5th September 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

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++ THE ANATOMY OF INSANITY ++
So many folk bear insanity, unknowingly…
Some will turn a blind eye, denyingly,
Recognising insanity shows not negativity…
Welcoming it shows a certain peculiarity,
It’s known as bonkersness, characteristically,
It can test your brain’s battery and vulnerability,
Robbing you of your perceptivity & sensibility,
First, it tries your short-term memory…
Long-term stuff, will have some accessibility…,
Naturally, this is only initially,
But it gets worse when you get near 90,
I’ll not mention the body’s lack of controllability,
Some folks can get an amygdalotomy…
But only royalty, politicians & the Oligarchy,
But it costs way too much for the likes of you & me,
Don’t call it madness, but instead, cerebropathy,
It starts for most affected people, grimly…

Your loss of memory will come under self-scrutiny,
“I forgot I’d made that cup of tea!”
“Where was I going? Ooops, I was going for a pee.”
“Damn it, left the hot tap running, silly me!”
“Didn’t get to the bog on time – diarrhoea, messy!”
“Missing words off, can’t spell, missing an apostrophe!”
“Thank heavens I paid a fortune for Gammarly!”
“Forgetting where you were going in the hallway!”
“Missing appointments, with neurololgy…”
“The dentist, optician, and Doctor Finlay”
“The Bank, Phlebotomy & Cardiology!”
“Burnt my dinner, no food for Inchie!”
“Why am I in the lift?” You ask bemusedly,”
“Fridge freezer door left open, you curse angrily!”
“Toenail cutting? £35 quid it costs me”,
“Huh, cartilage bother, arthritis, & acne!”
“Cathetered, cancer & Peripheral Neuropathy”,
“Seizures, tumbles, dead hearing aid battery”.

05:00hrs: I shot awake and checked out how I was mentally. Not bad, so no seizures suffered this morning. I grudgingly, unwillingly, hesitantly and cautiously moved the legs off of the bed. Great, Cartilage Chloe & Carol were no bother. Dizzy Dennis, Lost-Balance-Belinda, Jerking-Neck-Nigel, and Reflux Roger, along with many others, were being kind to me this Friday morning. But… Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany were a different kettle of fish. Both continued to bother me intermittently throughout the day.

Still, you can’t expect to win them all, can yer? I took Codeine before even taking off the night catheter pouch, such was the pain from Tiffany’s toothache.

The pouch is removed and left for the Carer to assess the grading colour upon arrival. Not much urine was passed last night.

I put the Codeine box back on the crowded Carers’ desk, and saw how dark it was outside. I meandered to the kitchen to take a snap of the view.
Not a good effort, then again, I’ve been making lots of them lately.

A sudden movement and a gurgling from the innards sent me, with some haste, (I nearly dropped the walking stick), to the wet room and the . Just as well I didn’t delay getting there. Within seconds of my bottom settling on the plastic seat of the raised toilet… Spurt, splutter, splatter… all over and done in seconds! 

I got the computer on, and after a jumpy start-up, I began updating yesterday’s blog.
My typing skills had gone to pot, or rather, the neurotransmitters were not getting the message to the brain when I pressed a key. This lasted for about half an hour. I was on the verge of giving up until things cleared, then the problem dissipated.

Carer Ejaz arrived. I think he said this is his last visit until next week. Sad that!
He soon had the prescription medications issued, disinfectanted the leg wounds, and put the diabetic sock on for me. Not here long today, I think he has got an extra job on, which he may be doing all over the weekend. Ejaz got all his tasks done!

I pressed on with updating the Thursday blog, despite the neurotransmitters failing and many mistakes being made. I got it finished and posted it off.

After a while, I meandered onto the balcony for a breather and took a snap of the end car park through the glass on the terrace.

I came back inside and updated the thingamibob calendar clock, then made a brew of Co-op 99 Tea. 

Carer Ahmed, Peptac.

Got things ready for the big wash, teggies, shower & shave, followed by medicationings for various parts of my body. Not a pretty sight!

Afternoon clouds. In 
beautiful formations.

As I was taking the following photograph of the sky a few minutes later, it was as if my energy batteries had all suddenly died on me. I did not return to the computer again. I instantly felt so all-in and drained.
I closed down the computer. (In the morning, realising that I’d not saved the CorelDraw or WordPress to file – Humph!), I had no choice other than to just sit down and sleep. That was the plan anyway. But falling asleep, I’d have thought, would be automatic, in the state I was. But No!
Well, falling asleep was easy, but staying asleep, impossible at that time.
It was terribly frustrating, that when I woke, each time I woke up, I felt a little like I do after having a seizure, but I don’t think I had any.

Carer Nimra woke me up upon her arrival and asked me to get up to see how I felt. So, I did.
Cartilage Carole was all over the place as I meandered into the balcony…
I scuffed my left leg against the wheelchair leg rest, swearing a smidge as I bruised the leg on .
Looking at the photo, which Carer Nimra took, there appeared to be three minor bruises. She said it matched the layout of the metal leg supports that I had clouted it against.
Sorry that I got up now. Hehehe! Nimra was tired after her long day. I bade her good luck and wished her well as she departed after giving me the medications and ointmentated my legs & knees.

I sat down again, in search of sleep. But after the faux pas with the leg, I just couldn’t nod off.

So, I put the TV on to see if the adverts would help me in my desperate search for sleep. They didn’t!

I realised I had time to make a meal before the last Carer calls and eat it. I pondered making an easy meal. I decided a tinned dinner cooked in the microwave would be the best idea. I put a can of vegetable stew and an Irish stew in a microwave bowl, and added half a bottle of Kung-Po sauce, some Bovril and chopped up some water-chestnuts and added them into the microwaveable dish of delight.
Belatedly adding a drop of extra-mild peri-peri sauce with lemon juice. Danish wholemeal bread to be dunked! A great mix of sweet & sour flavours!
Delightfully tasty meal, that I really enjoyed! While searching for the Gung Po photo, I stumbled upon a picture I took many years ago in Skegness. This took me back, evoking both good and bad memories.

I washed the pots, or rather, I left them soaking in the bowl in the sink. And climbed into the bed, but for some reason could not get comfortable, and gave up, got out and into the I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite recorded, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV.
I drifted of within seconds, I even felt the joy of it while sleeping… but, 🎺the “Oh, Suzana tune burst forth to wake me up from the intercom.”
Carer Mizra arrived. As I got up to press the admit button in the hallway, Calamity! !
Gave way, and I ended up back in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
“Oh, Suzana” tune had stopped, and by the time I got myself up. Mizra was ringing the buzzer and came into the room. Mizra took off the diabetic socks for me and issued a painkiller and some Peptac.

I collapsed back into the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner, again in a desperate search of Sweet Morpheous.

After an hour or so, I drifted off and started dreaming again. It wasn’t a nice one, but details are escaping me as I write this. I was once again woken up, this time by the telephone ringing.
An inebriated-sounding voice demanded to speak with Allison. I pointed out that there is no Allison here, telling him that he had got the wrong number. He started to talk, telling me not to *muck* about and put Allison on! I rang off.
My mind was all over the place now.
I decided a mug of tea might help, and toddled off to the kitchenette to make a brew. Taking this snap of the evening view.

Back in the £300, used, c1968, dirty-beige-coloured, not-working, creaky recliner.
Sleep-Seeking!
porc tttAfter an hour or so, and on the verge of going potty, I had to rise for the umpteenth time, to utilise the yet again!
Thankfully, the evacuation was over in seconds. Unfortunately, the cleaning took so long that I’ve forgotten what day & time it was. Not that I was bothered either way – after called on me, and from then on, nothing was a bother or a hassle. Even when I got back to the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, sickenly beige-coloured recliner. The powers of my hero  are incalculable. Nothing had changed; I was still physically shattered, tired, weary and still struggled desperately to get some sleep.
Did I care after Horis arrived? Nope!
But I wished he had called on me earlier!

A PRECIOUS HORIS 10%

Inchie: Thursday 4th September 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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Dad thought Mother a bit of a load,
Cause I was confused between load and lode,
As I was with mowed and mode…
Also, concerning cold, code and chode,
Bathrobe, overload, overroad, and outmode,
Forward, forbade and forebode,
Clawed, clewed, conclude and concrewed,
Dad was more concerned with what we owed,
I never showered, nor was I empowered,
Mother didn’t smile, but she glowered…
Debt collectors; now those she feared,
Arguing, fighting is all I heard,
Then be warned not to say a word!
The violence, in my brain, was intaglioed,
Fear of their hatred was installed,
Life seemed to be ornimentalled,
Dad paid the bills, Mother would be bailed,
It’s no wonder I grew up befuddled,
Years later, I got Dementia installed,
Not surprisingly, I was mentally bepommelled,
As a lad, I was socially bethralled…
In adulthood, I’ve been shot, mugged & burgled,
Sacked, made bankrupt, and vitriolised,
Now, in old age, I finally realised…
My usage of language is unsyllabled,
Looking back at the choices made, I’m appalled
My Whoopsiedangling was unparalleled,
Chopping my own confidence, it was felled,
My cerebrum and I are unreconciled,
If we ever were a unit, thoroughly combined,
Now the seizures, these I don’t mind,
But the aftereffects can drive me wild,
They recovering can leave me unbeguiled,
Physically at the mildest, unbalanced,
Mentally, thoughts are hampered & impeded,
The filling catheter pouch may not be noted.
The flow-back pains can be noticed,
But bending too early to get it emptied,
It’s dangerous, & shouldn’t be preempted
You realise you shouldn’t have absquatulated,
Until back in control and reacclimated,
After recovering from a mini-seizured,
Can any more ailments be accommodated?
November; I’m due for an operation, to be trephined,
At least the procedure to be assessed & defined,
High-Mood Horis is currently in my mind…
I hope Depression Daruis leaves him unthwarted,
There’s one other thought that should be reported…
I’m hoping Starmer gets hung, drawn & quartered!
Can a thought like that ever be bettered?
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05:30hrs: I’d been lying here in bed for a few minutes trying to get back to sleep again. I pondered for a second or two on what or why I had shot awake with such violent vigour. Had I stayed there, it would have become apparent, but unfortunately, I almost hopped off of the bed, removed the nocturnal night pouch from the day bag, and rose on my feet and legs… I shouldn’t have done that, and should also have known what was about to happen. But I didn’t then; it all became apparent the moment I lost my balance and crumpled to the floor. Hitting my head on the way down was of little hindrance.

My self-lamabsting was. How I didn’t recognise that I was in a seizure when I burst back into grim wakefulness is beyond me. Then, to add idiocy to the dumbness, I even stood up so quickly. 
What a nitwit, doofus & idiot I am! 
So, being as I’d landed with my back against the back 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, and was not injured or in pain, I stayed down there for a few minutes until the brain rebooted on its own accord.

The best bit about this tumble was where I had it. Perfect place to use the recliner and bed in combination, to get myself upright again. And although a painful exercise, I was soon feeling a lot better, lost some of my inner temper, and greeted the welcome, but unexpected arrival of ! Who was more than a blessing in disguise. He helped me not worry about the Porcelain Throne pain. There was plenty of that in this morning’s lengthy battle to force things into action from the rear-end. Each of the four depth-charge-shaped clumps that evacuated took it in turn to escape.

I washed, then made a brew of Detox tea, which I left to steep for 20 minutes, before going to change the clock calendar dates. But didn’t. I opened CorelDraw, and the oddest things seemed to be happening. 
When I loaded last night’s photographs and attempted to save them, I received odd messages indicating that the system cannot save this file due to a link with a Swiss font being attached. I couldn’t understand the details that followed, but I chose option two, and they saved. After saving a bout eight, the message stopped coming up each time I saved. Then, on about the 14th, it came back on again. This time, I foolishly chose the left one. The warning came up, and I had to select the following ten final photographs. Later on, it saved without a screen for me to select saving options from. I hope this will not change the blog when it’s been published.

Now I am panicking a little. I’d forgot about the Detox tea with the CorelDraw problems. So into the kitchen to have it cold, and…
Muggins here had left the hot tap running. Another day without hot water, a shower, a shave… Grrr!

Then, of back to the wet room for Porcelain Throne visit number two. Another marathon job, but without the assistance of , proved to be more challenging work and seemed a lot more painful. The evacuating torpedo, a beast of a thing, clunked the porcelain loudly when it finally escaped the clutches of Constipation Conrad. So hard & noisily, I feared it might have cracked the basin!


Handsome, male-model-like Carer Ejaz arrived. Did a good job changing the catheter bag, issuing medications, and applying cream to the legs and feet. Graded the nighttime catheter pouches wee-wee as a 4½ on the NHS Richter scale. Ejaz checked the use-by dates in the refrigerator for me. None is out of date. A good lad.

I should have put this photo on the right in yesterday’s blog. I think that I didn’t. It is of a J Sainsbury pack of Triple Cook Chips, Taste the Difference 400g £3.25. It looks like a Special Offer of some free diseased chips has been added to the tray again.
The label says there is a Taste Difference within?
Well, you can’t argue with that, can you? Hehe!

My mind was wandering a little, but, of course, that’s perfectly normal for me.
I belatedly changed the clock-calendar thingies. Oh, and made another mug of Detox tea.

Started to update the Wednesday blog. But…
CORALDRAW FROZE.
I was drawn into a place distant, certainly nowhere near me now. But Darius was persistent and got a smidge deeper every time I made a mistake, or one of the Oh, so many computer problems occurred! I turned off CorelDraw, gave it a few minutes, and then rebooted. That was the plan. At this stage, Carer Nimra arrived. She tried ringing the Audio Centre for me, but couldn’t get through, just an AI recording. She called her ICC boss, and they agreed to make an appointment for me and let me know when it is. Then another mammoth asked to ring Easy Link to see if they could give me a lift on the day.

It went all dark… the rain poured and the thunder thundered. No lighting as far as I know.
I took three shots from the kitchen window.
To the right.
To the left.
Straight ahead. Seemed to change colour?

Then a shot of the end of the car park.
Did you notice something different?
Two cars were parked on the lines, and the red car had to park in a parking bay.
They’ll be annoyed!

Carer Nimra took the waste bag with her for me.

Meals Delivered.
The full selection.
Below is a closer view of each.
I tried an all-day breakfast this time.
Veg Korma, Cumberland Pie.
Vegetable Lenyil and Steak hotpots.
I just wish they were larger portions. Hehe!

Meal of the Day
Baked potatoes with no-butter butter & a pinch of salt. Five different types of tomato. Fish sticks, and a red spring onion sliced up.

As I did the washing up, I took this late view from the kitchen window.
A pareidolia’s delight with these clouds.

🤎 Best Wishes Sent to All 🤎

Inchie: Wed 3 Sept 25 Mini-Seizure Clusters

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

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I couldn’t help the first thing, being born, 
Getting thrown in the canal at Halthorn,
Mother and Joan of Arc for being a Capricorn,
I wish I could have avoided being earthborn,
Mother didn’t want me; she ran off to Eastbourne,
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My canoodling days, I spent happily in revelry,
Then a burglar decided to shoot me,
No praise for stopping the burglary 
I nearly got the sack, I was thirty-three,
I tried to share things, antediluvially,
Shot again, got the sack, started the despondency.
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I’ll have to stop doing this eventually,
In fact, due to seizures, each one is a shortie,
Cruel after-effects, taking longer in recovery,
If I ever get the blog started, midnight a departee,
So far behind, hours lost, Anne Gyna is having a party,
Today’s seizures are rampant, I’ve never had so many…
I’ll have to try again on Thursday morning.
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Not feeling too well this merry morning. After four hectic, go-wrongable days, I’d hoped things might improve for me today. In fact, they did, whoopsiedangleploppery-wise. But, a new one today. A series of short mini-seizures started just before midday. I’ve lost count of how many. Each time, the recovery was taking longer and longer. Mt concentration was so bad. I was not getting the time to fully recuperate each time, and it felt like the next seizure recovery time… I’m just saying, getting back to semi-normality was impossible. I found myself going off track, which meant I couldn’t catch up on the blog. No time for the WP reader or comments again. I shall call the District Nurse if this lasts much longer. As I recall, my wanderings took me off track for the day. I split some boxes, tore them up into bags, and then took them along with the waste bins to the rubbish chute.
And I could have left them for the Carer’s to do, and most importantly, in moments of clarity, I kept urging myself to get on with the Ode and blog. Then I started, and was hoovering the room and hallway… not that I can recall much of this incident. Because the seizure would not subside. Well, they did ease off from about 17:00 hours to 20:00 hours… at least I think they did.
I’d taken photos and got a few on CorelDraw, but not on the blog gallery. Some I cannot recall taking.
Yet I coped, unhappily and grumpily, I admit, with the previous hell-days problems. I’ve been mentally all over the place today. Yet, I still managed to jot down some notes on the pad.

I may phone Matron about this Mini-Seizure barrage in the morning, even if the seizures stop altogether – I cannot cope with repeated short seizures. Having said that, it is the first time I’ve had so many, so close to each other. During any longer breaks between the seizures, I was another person. I swear I can recall laughing and joking with Carers’ Ejas and Nimra. At times, just until the subsequent recovery was needed. And I experienced some great moments despite Sanda’s Mini-Seizures.

I’ll see how things go on Thursday.
(Thursday morning, now) I’ll have to cut down on detail, not that they were entertaining anyway. To save time. Giving myself a chance to catch up.

Health Check Monitoring this morning, Carer Ejaz double-checked the returning figures for me later on, gave out medications, diabetic socks were put on, and a body check was carried out.He checked prescription medications…
,
And no prescription ones in the wet room.

Cragnangles! Done it again!
Wrong week for the Ocado order!
,
At least I’ve got some bread now, hehe!
Mor favourites too!

Seizures kicked off, I’ll say no more!
Well, maybe just, ARRGH!

Late afternoon, teatime.
Carer Nimra, I think, pointed out the state of my right leg. Next call, Ejaz put some Cetraben cream on the area, and it was much calmer in the morning.

,
I took this while recovering from the last bout of Seizures; they did not return after this. The odd single one, but with plenty of time to recover. Nice!

Three snaps of the rain on the kitchen windows.
Straight ahead.
To the left.
To the right.

The shot below was taken after I’d made, eaten and pictured the feast. But could not find the food photo in the morning to use? Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.

Now, I’m having to contend with Sandra’s Mini-Seizure-Stampede. Grrr, Kragnancles and Flipping-heck come to mind. But, of course, they didn’t bother me in the slightest; I just laughed them all off. There is a slight modicum of a chance here that.

Despite these Seizure stampedes, there is one thing that they could not stop me getting, HMH;
I think my estimate of the division between Evil & Heaven is accurate. I may not have been as high a percentage for HRH. However, the relief gained while he was here was priceless.
I think without these High-Mode-Horis moments, I could not go on. They are better than any of the medications I’m on. The ‘Sod-them-all’ sensation that accompanies Horis is so unlike me; I’ve always been a worrier. In fact, I’m now worrying how I will cope without them. They came from an uncontrollable, weird entity… my own brain. How, why, I know not?
The only Anti-Depression-Darius Succes, without it, I’d be in a right mess.
Sorry about that bit of self-analysis. I wish the Neurologist would read this blog.

Kitchen window view.

🤎 GENTLY GOES IT 🤎

Inchie: Tuesday 2nd September 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I was never happier than when I was canoodling,
I recall when the urge was first brewing…
1952, Christine at school, and bikeshedding,
I was shy, and she was bodybuilding,
Things I’d not seen before, I found amazing.
These adventures I found benchmarking…
At that stage and age, it was only fondling,
In 1956, we were barbecuing,
She was learning typing & bookkeeping,
I was street gas lamp lighting & snuffing,
Our routine became more challenging,
Groping, sharing and mingling…
Pairing, discovering and ogling,
Sauciness skills accumulating…
Temporarily ego-boosting!
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MEMORABLE EVENTS FOR THIS DATE
Include World War II’s official end with the formal surrender of Japan in 1945, the 1966 Great Fire of London beginning, the UK’s adoption of the Gregorian calendar in 1752, and the observation of World Coconut Day in recent years. 
A little less known, was on this day in 1952, WP Blogger Inchie, a six-year-old back then, was thrown off of Wilford Street Canal bridge by a motley gang of yobboes. Ending up resurfacing and clinging on for dear life to a rope hanging from the British Waterways barge. His hand frowing colder the longer the time went. Needless to say, he was scared stiff. He was prepared to lose his grip and go down and drown. But strong hands grabbed him, lifted him up and put him into a boat. A policeman took him home.
He got belted by Father for coming home soaking wet and dripping all over the linoleum.

Today made me all behind again, Humph!
Carer Ejaz performed a body check, administered medications, put on diabetic socks, monitored Health Check, and checked the food dates in the fridge. Two items were dished.

Took a balcony shot of the end car park, which had a little mud slide from the overnight rain, but it’s now cleared up.
Asda Deliver
The driver put the things in Iceland carriers for me.
Selection of favourites.
A few more…
I now have a good stock of spring water and soda waters. These keep the bladder working.

Vyne Delivery. I expected to find the catheter contraption spares, but instead, I found a packet of Barrier Cream sachets and some catheter pouch bags.

Two minutes later, the Amazon-supplied self-propelling wheelchair arrived. I struggled to get it into the hallway, but managed to put the Cream and bags on top of the wheelchair box.
Carer Nimra arrived and checked the barrier and catheter pouch cover.
We got the wheelchair into the balcony for assembling later. ,
Not much room.
Showing the damage to the wheelchair box on arrival. Nimra counted a total of 22 holes, tears and/or crushed corners. 

Carer Ejaz called. He took down the laundry, returned, and then attempted to erect the wheelchair.
This is as far as we got, (he) got with it, and we ran out of time. In between, Ejaz went down to move the washing to the dryer, then returned and had another go at getting the leg pad and brakes fitted. He managed to get one on. 

Going to get vague from here on, no notes on the pad. And I had the worst response to coming out of a seizure than I’ve ever had. This toyed with my brain, balance and patience.

Carer Mizra had bought the prescription medications.

L made a meal of potatoes and peas. No bread,
I thought I’d taken a photo, but there is nothing on the SD card.

It was a Bad Night – Full of blanks, depression, and those short, silly seizures, which left me puzzled and confused.

What a puddling day. Still, I’ve had worse!

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