Day: 12/05/2026

Inchy: Sun/Mon 10-11th May 2026

/ Inchie / 1 Comment

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BP AND TEMP UP
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A mixed Sunday. Starting with my inability to move when I woke up. No medical or mental problems as such. I just felt so tired out and drained. I think I’ve worked out what the problem was, but I can’t be certain. But then, whenever could I be? Not for years.
I was dreaming that I was in the porta-cabin where we used to hold the weekly social get-together for the residents. I really did think I was there, and could see and talk to the folks enjoying the meeting that Jenny used to organise. I reckon this caused my reluctance to get up… I must have been trying to nod off again to get back to the enjoyment and fun I was having again. See Gaynor, Cynth, Jenny, Joe, and the others again.
I know it sounds strange, but I was asleep and was knowingly trying to reach for the dream to reappear. 
I part-slept for longer than I have since having my 1996 Covid jab, when I slept for 22 hours.
I was eventually forced to get up by a disgusted-looking Carer Dilan. Not amused at all.

, after the Carer departed – I farted, and near as it is possible for me, I darted, well, hobbled swiftly to the wet room and Porcelain Throne… I’m sure my regular readers will know what happened next… but I’ll tell you, I didn’t make it in time! Then into clearing and cleaning-up mode. 

Next: After a long battle with the computer, and not knowing what I was doing, I
rather miraculously got it to boot into action.
Then spent hours and hours doing the one-off blog of Mr Starmer’s reaction to the disastrous local election result for Labour. I enjoyed doing that, but did not get it done until very late. And I was so tired again. Possibly, I thought I might get back to the Wednesday Social in the porta-cabin, if I got my head down?
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Snaps of the day
Bootifull!
Amazing skies
Accidental photo, Hehe!

Attempted wide shots, erm, failed.
Plates of meat status
A better effort
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Sorry, no Ode today. Just
A TALE OF WOE… Maybe later?
After removing the night bag, with only 500ml in it, and taking some photos, sorting the wast bins, having a wash, shave and shit,  doing my teggies, and getting the dressing gown on… the 
Catheter Flowback started again. And this time it was worse than the last two occasions.
Carer Rachid arrived and saw the pain and heard the bad language each time the stabbing, stinging pains hit me. I’ll call the nurses later to see if they can attend, too early in the day yet.

Rashid called again. I was in a lot of pain from the return of the Catheter flowback pains. He said he’ll phone for an ambulance. I explained that I’d called the District Nurses, who will be calling on me, so no need. Adding, if I go by ambulance, I’ll have another nine-hour wait in a corridor to be seen, and I didn’t fancy that again. He picked up the phone to dial 999. I said, “Do not use the landline; if you use your phone, any problems, they will phone you back, and then you’ll keep in touch with what is happening. He carried on using the landline. I made sure what to do when I took the phone, in case of it was not needed. The lady asked me to ring 999 to cancel. Which Rasid later did… on the landline. When he made his next call, the Nurse arrived. She got me on the bed, and he came leaning over me to see things. I asked for a bit of privacy. The procedure took a long time, and the Nurse handled it well. She got the tube out and showed me the black on the inner end of it, with a lot of gunk in it, like last time. Saying this can happen when we get older. So it might not be an infection. She asked Rachid to do a proper job of cleaning the testicle area. She is ordering some foam spray to clean the skin before applying the Barrier Cream. “You’ve made a right mess here.” That didn’t go down well! Inserting the new tube was almost painless; she first used a lot of the pain gel.
The Nurse took a urine sample to test for infection—the new pouch filled in seconds. The Urine was almost red. The only thing was, after she had gone. I found that the new pouch had a butterfly release valve. I’d stopped using them when I kept catching the clip and opening it. Peeing on my legs, slippers and on the carpet. Fingers crossed. Haha!

Photographs of the day
This one was taken when I woke during the night.
Why did I take these?
Anyone’s guess, Tsk!
Ah, the not-working Catheter.
The Catheter started working again seconds after, thanks to the nurses’ skills.
The Sun kept disappearing.
All-Starmer on the News.
The first flow after the initial torrent.
A bit bloody, as was anticipated.
A high shot here.
Seems the Sun was losing
the battle again. Lower down,
it was getting through.
But, another mystery here; 
Why did the shot of it
not get on to the SD card?
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Despite being overjoyed at getting the Catheter agony removed, I am now feeling very queasy, and not at all like wanting to eat anything. Another Mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind: which is now losing its few marbles it has left.
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The last late snaps…
Late sundown.
Late sundown, closer
Help was needed from the Carer to
get this one ready.
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All the regular pains returned later on.
The Ingrowing-Toenail-Titus, Back-Pain-Brenda, Lymphorea-Leslie, Colin-Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Kidney-Pains-Kitty, Fractured-Knee-Frank, Duodenal Donald, and even Anne Gyna threw in her pennorth of pain. But, with the memory of today’s chronic Catheter Flowback Pains, I almost welcomed the return of my regular ailment, which had been overshadowed by the more vicious, cruel Bladder-Blockage-Beryl agony that no medication could counter. Thank heavens the Nurse came. 🤎
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