September 2025 – Page 2

Inchie: Monday 1st September 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My brain and I are not closely connected,
We used to be so well integrated…
But, Doreen Dementia & my brain affiliated,
Peripheral Neuropathy, as it was expected,
His neurotransmitters got disconnected…
The link twixt brain & limb was disassembled,
Messages sent, get all broken up, entangled,
Messages received are not easily deciphered,
At times, words can’t be spoken, expressed,
Limbs won’t go where told to or directed,
With confusion I regularly get encintured,
I find little problem when being seizured,
It’s the after-effects that get me fanted,
Wooziness and unsteadiness are guaranteed,
Rare problems peeing, now I’m cathetered,
The release valve has often leaked,
You pee on the floor, your slippers & feet,
It’s a problem if your hearing aids break…
An appointment? I waited five weeks, mate,
Nurses, Carers, they can’t accommodate,
Glaucoma, deaf, bonkers, what a state,
Loneliness, guilt, bring on my self-hate,
Daily actions are so easy not to complicate,
Yesterday I broke a mug and a plate,
Taps left on, fridge door open, continuate,
More often than not, my mind is perplexed,
I involuntarily pass gas, break wind, flatulate,
Get to the bog on time? Too often I’m too late,
Eventually, one realises they are too inadequate,
Little joy, happiness, you can’t cohabitate,
Slowly turning into a nursing home candidate!
I realised coping is not going to be too intricate,
At first, I thought we just had to invocate…
That doesn’t work, let me relate…
Each Nurse, Warden & Carer knows of my sad state,
How do I get my flu jab to my Neurosurgeon date?
But how to cope? No need to machinate…
These problems: how to alleviate?If you can get FND, PN, & many a seizure,
High-Mode-Horis will follow, I’m certainly sure,
HMH is a “Sod-em-all mood”, & such a pleasure!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After taking an age to fall asleep, despite feeling so weary and tired, I kept jerking awake. Courtesy of , I’ve missed him lately, but he’s back again now. Other much unmissed ailments have been Duodenal Donald and Arthur Itis. The perennial Anne Gyna, the Sandra’s Mini-Seizures and Galucoma Gladys seem well-settled into their LNI (‘Let’s Nobble-Inchie mode). Earache Erasmus eased of this morning, but is back again now. Toothache-Tiffany only bothers me if I drink anything hot or cold, eat anything, cough, sneeze, clean my teeth (what few I’ve got left), or laugh out loud. (Of course, there’s not a whole lot of that about lately.)

05:30hrs: The nocturnal Urine was a 5 on the NHS scale. I was a little bit out of it when I got up, a smidge off-balance and confused. All signs of a nighttime seizure, but I’m guesstimating, of course.
Yet, I remembered to make a mug of Dettol tea as I went to visit the Porcelain Throne. No, that’s not right; a mug of Detox tea. (Sausage & hostage?)

I settled into the disabled raised plastic seat and retrieved the crossword book. Given that all the signs suggested it would take time and effort to get the movement started. And it did!
However, I ignored the crossword book as an inspiration for a tale of woe blog came to me. I used the inside cover of the crossword book to make some memory notes. The ideas were coming at me at a rate of knots, thick and fast. For several minutes, I also ignored the non-moving rear-end evacuations blockage. Until the pain started. That caught my attention. It took another few minutes of urging, pushing, and tears coming down my cheek before the flow began… well, not a flow, it was like slow motion as the torpedo finally edged its way out.
Kerplonk! Thud, splash! I just stayed there, adding bits to the notes I’d written. Of course, most of them were unreadable. Hehehe!

Now, I was eager to create a storyline and a graphic of some sort as a header for the extra blog piece.
Onto the computer, no wash, no shave, no medicationings. As I was about to start the story, I remembered that Matron would call on me from Monday to Thursday, and the Social lady would visit sometime this week. So, I updated some things that I needed help with for both ladies, just in case they came today. (They didn’t).

I drank the Detox, made a proper mug of extra-strong Typhoo tea, and started on the story. Made a graphic to use as a header for the blog page (Left). I thought it best not to inform anyone of what I was doing when I conceived the idea for the tale. Haha!

Then, in mid-creation, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications and spotted two possible mini oedemas on my right leg, which were no worse. Carer Nimra reported this to the District Nurses yesterday. A nurse is due to check them today, apparently. We spoke, well, I did, about the Audio Clinic appointment to get my hearing aids repaired, which was requested over five weeks ago, and nothing has been done yet. He will consult with his manager and get back to me regarding this matter. He then put the diabetic socks on for me and did a quick body check.

I returned to the story blog and, upon realising I hadn’t updated yesterday’s blog, rushed a bit, but then stopped myself upon noticing that, as I reread it, there were many more applicable words I could have used. So changed some of them to keep the humour side alive in the story. I’m hoping I got them right. Then I got on with updating the Inchie blog. Posted it off, and back to the story tale blog. By gum, I was determined today.
When I restarted the story, the most welcome visitor of the day developed in my brain.
His ability to create instant notions of a “Sod-Em-All” nature is so precious. Naturally, I knew it was not going to last long, and I seemed to appreciate the freedom from worry all the more! If only I could summon him whenever I needed him.
I imagine him being a bit like A young Spike Milligan, on form.

Back to the Time Traveller Tale. With still with me, things seemed to flow a lot more freely, and I changed a couple of sentences.

I took the photos for today’s blog using CorelDraw, and I had a slight fear of another infamous CorelDraw calamity. To be on the safe side, I ran CCleaner first.

After midday, Carer Nimra visited. I mentioned the Audio situation, and she called her manager. Later, I was asked if the Wednesday call could be rescheduled for a Thursday, so someone could ring the Audio Clinic. I agreed. I didn’t realise that the laundry room has always been very much busier on a Thursday. That is why we made the longer call for Wednesday. Too late now. No, it’s not! Although it leaves us with the same laundry problem. When Ejaz made the last call, he phoned his office and changed the longer call from a Thursday to a Tuesday, and it’s no longer on a Wednesday. I’ve lost the plot now!

Back to the plot.
I went out to look at the walker and wheelchair on the balcony. Still a smidge confused.
The thick clouds, now that the rain had stopped, looked so fresh and almost pretty to me. Then so do many traits in nature.

A shot of the local dwellings from the balcony, this proved painful for me. I had to lean out of the window to get the angle needed, and the catheter tube caught against the wheelchair and tugged at Little Inchie and his fungal lesion. The next shot was delayed while I stopped and cleaned up the blood from my testicles and legs! Tsk!
I’d like to take the opportunity to tell you how excellent these chip shop chips taste. If I ever get the time, I should be having some tonight. Well, it’ll be morning by then. Lovely!
Iceland sell them. £3 a bag.
But it’s worth it, I can assure any chip-loving reader!

Rain...
Rain…
Oh, it stopped!
Mudslide from the rain. Red car again.

Ah, a decent night shot with plenty of brown in there.
Just caught a bit of the sun on its way down.

Ejaz, on his last call, took this one. Kodak Tim 2.

Food!

CHEERIOski!

A Time-Travellers Tormentingly Troubled True Tales – Part One

– – – – – – – – PART ONE – – – – – – – –
In 1950, I went on holiday to Wales. I lodged in Tintern village. It was steeped in history, with stone pubs and the evocative ruins of Tintern Abbey, dating back to the 12th century. With its Devil’s Pulpit legend, a local myth about the Devil tempting monks from a rocky outcrop above the abbey ruins, to sin, debauch & have a good time.
This fable interested me, and on the first morning, instead of going fishing, I ventured up the rock-strewn precipice up to the Abbey Grounds and into a large wooded area. Where, the locals told me, many poachers had been found with their throats cut. With the Devil tempting monks from a rocky outcrop above the abbey ruins, to sin, debauch & have a good time… I wondered if he was still in there…

I came across a very old wishing well and casually threw in a penny, wishing I could see the Devil’s Pulpit. Well, you would have, wouldn’t you? As an afterthought, I lobbed in a threepenny bit, and asked to be given the power of time travel – I turned my head and all around me was devastation, no plants, animals or people. Then, right next to me, a sort of spaceship appeared from nowhere. Out of the ship came three men in uniforms with some kind of weapons, and they dragged me into their craft.
No one spoke to me; they clouted me around the head and kicked me in the goolie occasionally, but no one spoke. I thought I must be dreaming. Then realised the blood coming from my newly acquired wounds was real. Within a couple of minutes, I was put in a large room and hung up on the wall. It looked very hygienic and clean, so I wouldn’t have been at the old Abbey.
An hour passed, and I took a glance at the police officers of some sort, by looking at their uniforms. They cut me down. Then pointed to the open door, still not speaking to me. They had floating on air vehicles. I was put alone in one of the seats, and it took me through several walls, rooms, out over some turfing, and into what was obviously a court of some sort. Whatever they were in this massive room, they spoke to me in good English.
I can’t recall the exact words, but it went along these lines: James Timothy Gerald Algernoon Chambers, also known as Inchie, is charged with operating a time machine in a careless, uncontrolled fashion, causing damage to the flora and fungi in Sector 114/TT in the Republic of Wales this day, Thursday, 324th of Junnock 4025. How do you plead?
“I haven’t got a time machine!”
“Liar! His Lordship, the Devil’s Pulpit, issued you with one in 1951, that’s how you go here!”
“Well, I was the wishing well and…”
“Hold it, more evidence coming in…”
“It seems to have attempted to bribe the Wishing Well with extra funds to get time-travel, according to our records.”
“You know full well that each time machine operates differently, I mean, you wouldn’t drive a Sinclair 5013688014956BEX the same as you would a TREX05, now would you? That’s obvious to anyone!”.
The man with three eyes interrupted the four-eyed judge: “Are you saying you are operating a Time-Machine without a Licence?”
“Well… yes!”
There was an aghast sound from the gallery, with the odd, “Hang-Him! Cut-of-his-goolies! Give him life!.
A spoke up in protest, “That’s not fair!”
“It’s the law, Inchie. You will be beheaded on the guillotine in…”
A bald man rose and pleaded for mercy for me.
“M’Lord, can we not show mercy? At least make an appeal to our barrister-minded Saviour, His Everythingness Head Wallah, for mercy – naturally throwing in a decent backhander for Starmer?

Hahaha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
There’s more to come on this!

Inchie: Sunday 31st August 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’m worried about the Grim Reaper,
Not visited in August, now it’s September!
Has something changed his agender?
Last we met, he spoke of a nymph named Rusalka,
A female creature who seeks souls not after…
death, but before, & ferry them to Purgatory,
Each is an illegal immigrant soul-gatherer,
They come in dreams, offering virgins for a fiver,
The Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, Dziewona,
I’ve missed my designated soul-collector,
He was straight-talking, no verbal garniture,
For my last day, he promised me fresh golonkowa…
With sourdough bread & pickled cucumber,
I thought a moment ago that I could smell vinegar,
He said he’d get me in a cell with souls of kvetchers,
He guaranteed to keep me safe from Herr Starmer,
And his lies, bullying and moratoria…
I couldn’t have asked for better…
Me, a mentally-challenged failed rhymester,
When I die, decease, perish, & meet St Peter,
I leave this mortal coil, led by my Grim Reaper,
He will try to become my permanent Carer,
It’s love, I think, though it sounds macabre,
Gawd, I hope he wasn’t a leg-puller!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

She was still shaking when I stirred at 06:15 hours. (Another late one). That might teach me not to shoulder-charge the wetroom door frame… at least, not so often. I had to laugh at myself when I reached down to retrieve the nocturnal catheter bag for emptying – it showed I was still on edge from yesterday’s mishaps. I used my left hand to hold the shoulder in case she had loosened the joint with her overnight rattling and shudderings. Haha! Now, a laugh upon waking may be a sign that things will go better today. Mind you, look what happened to Hitler when he attacked Russia.

Very few photos and news on the blog today. I must try to at least complete yesterday’s blog. If I have the time, I need to complete the 30 templates for September. I know, not a cat-in-hells chance. But I must at least try.
Oh, no, just remembered I can use Jetpack, like I did last month. I did it in half the usual time. Now, if only I could remember how I did it. Never mind, there are still unknown challenges to come. Do I sound a smidgeon pessimistic?
First kitchenette shot

Evacuation Conrad Constipation Controlled.

Carer Nimra. Body Check.
Some new blood-filled swelling was spotted.
They were not painful, but Nimta called the Community Nurses. They will send someone to inspect the area. Later decided Monday, not today. This will be no problem.