Inchie: Sat/Sun 19-20th September 2026

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Lymph Water leaking from the leg
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I went to bed early and was so tired, but around midnight,
you wouldn’t believe what came on.

The Catheter blocked; agony. Took an Ezetimibe and Codeine straight away. Then angina and my back played up, as lymph water flowed again from both leg wounds. Just to add a little variety to the proceedings, cramps and toothache kicked off. 
 I didn’t call the nurses at that time of day, not wanting to be sent to the hospital by taxi again. I couldn’t dress myself anyway. The tablets did little to ease the pain, and I kept doing things to take my mind off them a little.
By 03:30, I could take no more and rang the nurses. They were very busy and told me to ring 111, or I could call back after 08:00hrs.
Then, I’m not joking; between 0330 and 0400hrs, I was stuck on the toilet. I could not get out. Every time I started to clean up the blood and poo, I needed to go again… 8 times! I hobbled back into the front room to take more medications, and the phone rang. A chap said he’d rung four times; staff were outside and could not get in. Of course I was incarcerated in the wet room and could not hear. He checked my name, DOB & address, and realised it was not my place they were at! A male nurse is on his way.
I was thoroughly confused.
Minutes later, the intercom rang. I pressed the open button, and it went dead!
I fumbled about to get a dressing gown on, no footwear, of course, to get down to admit him, and got the walking frame ready to use as the doorbell chimed and he came in. Now for some Grrreat News!

The chap looked all worn out; he was just about to go home when he got the message. He got me on the bed, asked a few questions, and told me he was going to try to force the urine in the bladder to move. He thought my rear-end escapades (constipation) may have had an effect on my bladder. A short, sharp twang of pain from the blow-bubble thing, and 15 seconds later the urine pouch had filled to the maximum! Wonderful relief!
The other pains remained, even now, but they are piffle compared to the flow-back pains. The tired-out medical genius had saved the day. 👍🏻 I was so happy, I sent a thank-you email to the surgery and nurses for their help, which I got when I took a tumble getting into the Doctor’s surgery. and for this saviour genius who called at 04:30hrs, freed me from worrying about going into the hospital Stalag, and got the Catheter working again.
Thank you all!

 Then Edward arrived; he’s so good at ignoring me. Skilled at changing the subject when I ask him for something. He knows how to confuse me, easily. I was telling him he had failed to put my diabetic socks on for two days; I glanced at him, and he was on his mobile. Still, it perked him up a bit; he made me a mug of tea and got my socks on. Applying the Phorpain, I saw the lymph water had stopped leaking! YeeHAA!
 

But I was, and still am, in a better mood after being saved from a trip to the torture chamber… I mean, hospital. 🚑

Then, the Sunday Morning Floods!
Lucky? Me? I haven’t had time to read the WP Reader or reply to WP comments in days. Medical appointments. Falls. Lights went out, District nurses, Doctor’s appointment where the Carer did not show up. A fortune on taxis. Agony from the backache, shoulders, Coccyx, and leg wounds. Dropping, losing and walking into things… three new medical appointments came in, two next week, and one to add to the one already there for the week after. One worryingly with a psychiatrist next week… I’ll check that on the letter; Sod-it! I can’t find the letter with the details of times and how to get there! It might be in an email; I’ll check. Nope, not there. I’ll look at text messages… to find the mobile phone first. I’ll have to find the mobile first. I’ll search again later.

Well, the lowest ever overall.
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In the wet room, I found that it was flooded, too!
As I was about to get it tested and, if need be, call the NCC Maintenance, the door chime rang out, and Carer Andrew came in. He gave me a hand, trying to do anything that would involve me bending down, bless him.
I asked Andrew to take the wet rugs out first. Which he did. I got the shower going, which had been used only once in four weeks, as the Carers do not have time to help me shower. Occasionally, one will help me have a stand-up wash and clean areas I cannot reach. Lower legs and back mainly. I wondered if this lack of use may have contributed to the drain failure?
Pleasingly, when the shower was turned on, the drain gurgled and worked. I hosed the bits and pieces of dropped bandages, protection-pant fluff, and even noticed a couple of garden peas go down the drain.
Don’t ask. Hahaha!

I tried to get as much down the drain as possible with the cheap long-stick sponge. Later went to check that I’d got rid of the water, as only a few specks came through the kitchen towel I put down.
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Andrew issued the medications, pain-gelled the shoulders, neck and back. He asked if I needed the diabetic socks on; I said yes, as I went back to the wet room to make sure the drain was still working. All looked okay. But we both forgot about putting the socks on.
A proper pair of clots!
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I got the computer on to try and get the out-of-date bits I’d started going again. But my new £850 computer played up, as per usual.
I lost several hours trying to get the new drive attached to the new computer, but the installer wouldn’t work, to no avail. So, yet again, I had to move things into a new file and delete them from the old file to save memory.
Everything I do is taking me so much longer with this new computer! Adding the extra medical things I need, I can see I’ll have to give up blogging soon. I do love it, though; well, I used to. Since the new Carers started, the problems I can’t solve keep increasing. British Gas, still not solved. Six promised arrangements were made for an engineer to call to look at the meter; none arrived. Carer Ejaz has been in control of sorting this out, and has done his best. But he calls far less frequently nowadays. Which is doing me no good, frustration-wise.
Now the medical needs are increasing. It’s going to need more in the near future (starting the week after next).
The cataract lasering (EENT-QMC) is taking place next Tuesday or Wednesday. From last time, I know this will need extra care until my vision returns. Various drops to be put in the eye, four times a day. Both Lymphohrea wounds will need the socks on in the morning and off at night. (But this is not happening, so the problems with them will continue for longer, needing more attention).
The psychiatrist’s monthly meetings start next week as well, adding time, Carer, and taxi costs.

We still haven’tmade an appointment at the Audio Clinic to have both hearing aids mended. Without them, it is hard for me to make and receive phone calls. The neurologist appointment has been cancelled again.
Am I moaning or just mentioning?
My chances of getting into a home are minimal, hopeless, to impossible. But I believe this move is my only hope of retaining my sanity and getting a little life back as I await the Grim Reaper’s attention. Yes, it will be more costly… but not when you realise how much I’m paying for the Carers. I could solve my known-but-can’t-do-anything-about-it problems with ordering food online. I wouldn’t need to order food online. Maybe they will offer a lift to a supermarket for occupants? Give lifts to hospital appointments? That will save me costly taxis to the Dentist, opticians, doctors, neurologist, audiologist, urology departments, outpatients, cardiac, psychiatrist, A&E; all currently needing Carer & taxi costs.
I was given this advice about my upcoming first meeting with a psychiatrist: Preparing for your first NHS psychiatric assessment (often called an appraisal or evaluation) involves gathering your medical history and current symptoms so the Doctor can understand how best to support you (PDP).
What to Prepare Before the Appointment
1) List your symptoms: Write down what you have been feeling, when the issues started, and how they affect your daily life, work, or relationships.
2) Gather medication details: Make a clear list of all current and past medications, doses, and any herbal supplements or vitamins you take.
3) Note your history: Write down any past mental health diagnoses, treatments, therapy experiences, or significant life events, history and definitely stresses.
4) Prepare questions: Jot down anything you want to ask about potential diagnoses, treatment paths, or available support services.
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Am I moaning or just mentioning?
Does it matter?
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This may take me too long; with the appointment in four days and busy days, I won’t have the time.

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Home Sweet Home.
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Now, tonight, the Catheter pouch isn’t filling up!
Well, I mean tomorrow morning, 01:20hrs
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7 thoughts on “Inchie: Sat/Sun 19-20th September 2026

    • Title fight… Hahaha!
      That reminded me of my enforced by Dad, to toughen me up against the school bullyboys; youthful venture into the realms of pugalism.
      Did you reaise that had a 100% record? Uh, yes!
      I lost every bout. Har-har!
      The draught from a near-miss could have me over.
      Dad would say each time I lmped home after a bout “I hope he looks worse than you do!”

  1. An exhausting battle, Inchie. You have a lot to cope with, but your humor and gratitude are strong. That’s inspiring, and I hope the coming appointments and care bring you some real help and easier days. A great friend of mine in Seattle is having a similar fight.

  2. That water like wound deosent look good. It would sure be nice if you could get into a home. Fight on my man.

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