Inchie Today: Thursday May 21st 2026

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After returning to semi-consciousness, I lay there in a half-sleep mode for a good hour or more. My terrible memories from yesterday were playing, drumming away in my tormented mind. Had I known that the new, bafflingly confusing to an oldie like me, computer, MS Word, MS Snip, and the ever-playing-up Corel (Rotten) Draw were going to give me even more hassle and problems today, I may well not have bothered getting up again.
At one stage, I regretted doing so.
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At least the feet were far less swollen. It’s just the under-toe electric-like twangs that defeat everyone. Me included, naturally. Caring Carers Ejaz and Mizra, three different District Nurses, and even the window cleaner have each taken a look and can see nothing that may be causing the shocks. No marks, no reddening. Just yet another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Not to mention the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity of mind. Also, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Ménière’s disease, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Legs Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Iris, Cataract Katie, Sandra’s damned seizures, Back-Pain-Brenda, Arthur Itis, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Fractured Knee Frankie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Unwin’s Unguis Incarnates Ingrowing Toenail, Reflux Roger, Replacement Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine,  Hydrocephalus-Hilda, &  Toothache Tiffany. And my recently diagnosed TBI, Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD), which is causing Flowback-Agony with the Catheter-Contraption-Carol’s exit-tube being blocked.
The NHS sent me a note about this problem before it started happening: It read…
If your Catheter tube is blocked and not draining, it is a medical emergency. Immediately check that the tube is not kinked and the drainage bag is below your bladder. Do not attempt to flush the tube or remove it yourself unless specifically trained by your Doctor. There was a problem, the first time it happened, Carer Ejaz rang the District Nurses. Five days later, a nurse called.
The second time, I rang myself, and was not holding back on how painful it was. Two hours later, a nurse arrived. Got me on the bed (No, nothing like that. Hehe!), and decided to put a new contraption into Little Inchie with his bleeding, leaking urine through it as well, a fungal lesion. As she pulled out the tube and balloon, she showed me the black material blocking the tube. I asked whether it is likely to happen again. As you usually change the contraption about every four or five weeks, and did so a fortnight ago, why is it already blocked? Adding, can anything be done to prevent it, cause it was more painful than my heart operation was?
Not really, I have a few other older dears with the same problem. Well, that cheered me up a ton!
Still, yer don’t like to complain, do yer?
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I got carried away again there, sorry about that. It’s a combination of old age, senility, brain invaders, and depression, you know.
That’s my excuse.
Took these two snaps later in the morning. The clouds still held and showed me beauty. Why? Not sure?

My Angel Jenny told me what the flowers were called on the bushes out the front of the flats and near the tree copse. I miss walking through so much. Sad, innit?
I took this quick, zoomed-in shot of a lady with her baby and pet dog as they walked into the gap between the trees. I think I can still remember the smell in there. I miss it so much. Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer? Humph! Haha!

As I took these two photographs of the housing to the left of the kitchen window, I realised how few people were in the snaps. Also, the trees and bushes are coming back to full life, with growing greenery and a scent in the air. Then I passed wind and nobbled to the WC.
I emitted a lot of swishy, splattering multicoloured Trotsky Terence evacuation. I could not believe the range of colours it had in the basin.
Fair enough, I am colour-blind, I know, but I swear I could see reds, yellows, greens with streaks, similar to veins of a light blueish colour in the freshly released reminiscent of Irish stew, seeming to gurgle and wobble in the water.

Then the computer troubles started again. And did so all day. Some examples, unbelievable examples.
1: Throughout the day, until I’d had enough, Google lost connection four times, and I lost unsaved work every time.
The fancy Alien Font replaced a few of my typed words in the Gluten font. 2: Using the MS snip, and it froze as I selected the work to copy. Every programme used had this red outline box in front of the screen. 
3: MS Word fills the screen with gigantic buttons that leave little room to see the typing area.
4: On one Google opening, the Yahoo browser came on?
5: I got this message up again in a blank screen,
I’ve not the foggiest what it is all about, but then again, that in itself is not surprising to me, at least. This flipping whatever it is came up four more times?

Fed-up! But, I got fedderupperer later!
Just as I was taking the food from the slow cooker, to strain and serve it up… I managed with the greatest of ease, without any intent to have my right leg wobble, and dropped the hot Porcelain dish full of food, hitting my leg twice as it galloped on the way down, leaving this mess on the kitchenette floor.

They stung and left a little burning smell.
I had to leave the mess for the poor Carer to sort out, and rubbed some Germolene on the two tiny injuries. And waited for the last Carer call to arrive. I did get some plasters out in case they were considered to be of use by the Carer. An hour or so later, Carer Mizra arrived. He cleaned up my mess in the kitchen after giving me the medications. Helped me heat up the rearranged meal in the microwave and serve it.
Bless him. He had to rush off to his next call, which was difficult for the lad using buses.

I hobbled into the kitchen and washed the pots. Espying the lovely sky, which begged to be photographed.
So, I did.

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