Accifauxpa – Page 9 – Inchie Today

Puddled Inchy: Thursday 26th December 2024

STARMERS FUTURE
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On the humorous side…
I’m not in control nowadays, just a minimum,
Vascular Diabetic Doreen is tinkling with my cerebrum,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids controlling my bleeding bum,
Bleeding from cracked teeth, lips and gum,
Seizures leave me lost and numb,
Uneducated… what’s a quasi-isomorphism?
Between me then and now lies an impassable chasm,
I’ve lost my freedom, thus enthusiasm
But I’m still moderately skilled in sarcasm,
I was fully committed to activism…
I could do it now on a good day, but they’re seldom,
I’m still well-known for my altruism,
Gone are my days of professionalism…
Doing my ablutions? Best described as gruesome,
I fought and beat off alcoholism!
But struggle to free myself from fatalism,
Dictatorship, Communism or Capitalism?
All addicted to despotism and materialism,
Oligarchal, favouritism, federalism, feudalism,
Earthlings will never adopt pacifism…
I view hope for this earth with scepticism,
Why do I bother? I must be dumb,
No wonder I’m feeling so glum,
Will St Peter do humankind’s postmortem?
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0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. I felt much better than I did on yesterday’s rebirth into the torture of another day in my Nottingham-located Cell 72… no, flat, flat 72! My balance seemed much better, too!
I pondered on what the day may hold for me. It was a scary moment as my confidentless mind mused merrily over various possibilities and what mode of Accidauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
I got my slippers on (painfully) and meandered to the kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge.
I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
Which expletive should I use? To reveal exactly how I felt at that moment. Disappointment, self-loathing, frustration, irritation, disquietude, perturbation, self-condemnation, self-commination, blameworthiness or guilt?
I suppose any one or all of them. I chuntered away, swearing silently, lambasting myself. My spirits took another dip when I found that most of the frozen food was no longer frozen, and a puddle had poured out onto the kitchen floor that I had not noticed and had walked all over the kitchen floor.

Mopping up while using a walking stick is not one of the most straightforward jobs. But I cheerfully spent over an hour whistling and singing as I mopped it up.

A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.

Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.

Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!

After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated.
But no! Another reversal in controller this time. Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further!
I got the crossword book to help kill the waiting time but couldn’t resolve any clues. A while later, the monster moved. Gawd, it was a whopper! It must have taken a full minute to complete its escape. Massive it was! There was a tiny bit of bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I cleaned up and medicated. Naturally, the mug of tea had gone cold again.

So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.

I did the morning BP test earlier, which produced the following results. SYS 151 DIA 70 Pulse 72, Temp 34.8 Level: HYPER
I did the evening check earlier than usual. SYS 144 DIA 68 Pulse 74, Temp 34.7 Level: Normal High, better!

I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
No trapped fingers this time!

Carer Sham called. I hadn’t seen her for months, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be here (which was natural). But I managed to make her smile once. She was treated as all Carers were at Christmas. She left smilingly anyway.

What An Amazing Session This Was!
Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one!
Then, I did the teggies and nasal spraying.
Before moving on to the joy of a good shower, I had to remove the muslin day catheter bag cover from the pouch and leg. 2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
No Dizzies with the bending down, 3 no knocking anything off the floor cabinet, 4 no bruises or cuts. 5 No tearing of the mesh. 6 or accidents with the release valve. Brilliant!
Fair enough, I did tug at the tube stuck in Little Inchie, which caused me some pain… But 7, no bleeding!
I even adjusted the top two straps without causing any pain or harm. 8. Then, turn the shower power on in the hallway and collect the towel from the slow heater.
Turned the shower on. Got underneath the showerhead and carbolic soaped my blubbery-bellied body and ultra-thin bony legs and arms for ages. I wallowed in the shower.
I really enjoyed it!.
Showering was complete, so I set about drying off. First, the catheter contraption. I do that as advised using paper towels, I can’t remember why, but they told me to.
Then, my muscular young torso and bicep-ridden arms and legs.

I won’t bore you with the whole routine. If I did, I might not live long enough to finish it! Hehehe!
The first task was getting the Catheter Contraption back on.
This did not go as easily as taking it off in the first place or anywhere but according to plan. Getting a muslin cover on caused a tear or two while trying to thread the tube and bag through it. . I ended up with , and the
newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled . I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
The other medications went alright. Even stopping the bleeding and ointmentating Little Inchies fungal lesion went okay. Painful, but okay!

1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!

Pigs in blankets, frozen and oven-cooked for 40 minutes. The paper-thin bacon evaporated from the sausage.

They’d left me alone for a time; I’d forgotten about them.

FURRY TWO OF THE WEEK

Dougs furry, Andy.
He’d just got back from the veterinarian.
He’s doing alright. Medication continues.
A characterful cat.
We all love him on WP.

I was weary, closed the computer that I was initially going to go back on, and fell asleep (bliss!) in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue-collecting recliner.
I awoke with Carer Chris’s face in mine and a big smile on his mush, telling me he thought I’d snuffed it. Laughter from both parties. Hehehe!
I tried to stay awake to watch the football on TV, but I fell asleep and woke up in time to catch the ending credits of the film that followed the football. Grrr!
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Croaking Inchy: Wednesday 25th December 2024

Not Starmer, naturally!

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I’m not having any Christmas fare,
I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair,
Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger
It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger,
I feel I’m no longer a belonger…
I was happier when I was boozier,
I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier…
Living life like a boondoggler,
A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger,
Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater,
Mild now, worse as I get older…
Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter,
I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma,
Never wanted excess money or grandeur,
Others notice as you get gimpier,
You may suffer from graphomania,
Ending up a grammaticaster,
I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter,
Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier,
No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter,
Concentration and memory will falter,
You become an easy target for any finagler…
Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter,
My turn to become a contradicter…
It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania,
When it comes to life’s final closure…
Things will be revealed by your claviger…
Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever,
Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever,
To return to earth, you must be a groveller,
And bare-face liar, like Starmer!
And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer!
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Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one!
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The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday. Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)

I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about in 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. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!

My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think.
Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two.

As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time.
I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!

Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.

I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN!
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It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻

I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door. I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha!
I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.

Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night.
I’m sorry I mentioned it now.

When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer.

Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo.
It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime!
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I’d better get my Christmas meal started.
Not as good as the criminals’ meal,
But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!

Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course.
It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

Carer Victor did the last call.

I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs.
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Sayonara

Industrious Inchy: Sun 22 Dec 2024

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From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration,
His childhood stolen; his heart broken…
Full of fear and apprehension,
Daily failures, Mother in police detention…
Very little learning or education,
He grew up in debt and devil-ridden,
He became an expert in deprivation,
Coped with destruction, devastation…
In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection,
I got shot twice when working in protection,
Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction,
I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption,
I retired, to constant hospitalisation,
Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation,
Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion,
Struggling now on my meagre pension,
Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation!
Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation,
Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption,
Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion,
Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion,
Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression,
Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation…
My hopes & plans are mere theorisation,
I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion,
As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten,
There’s always something I’ve forgotten…
Unavoidable depths of depression…
Self-vilification & condemnation,
Self-criticism, and animadversion,
Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation,
Any length of time, sometimes in repetition,
Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion,
Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten,
No shortages of ointments and medication,
I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon!
Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken,
Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion,
Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion…
Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian,
Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen,
Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum,
Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm,
Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion!
Every day is literally an ordalian,
My flat is like a prison or garrison,
Compared to my youth there is no comparison,
Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian…
They’ll tell you not to eat bacon,
But you will, as a revengeful impulsion,
For your mental & physical distortion,
I think life is an intermission…
Or maybe an incantation?
I think the above lines were malapropian,
Best just stick with eating smoked bacon?
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06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did.
I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag.

The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?

So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.

Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results.
That, as you see, didn’t work!

Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved.
Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub…
Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!

Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. (I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I , then , where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to .
Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang!
. The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly!
I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released!
As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me!
I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no! had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning..
As I was getting my dressing gown on…
I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before.
This also baffled me!

I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk!
I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!

I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.

Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.

Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card?
Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner.
The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats.
The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t!
That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!

I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.

Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.

Carer Kimberley made the next call.

I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses.

When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!

I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures.
Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased.
About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!

Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack.
I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.

Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!

Then, I made the second snack of the day.
I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.

I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful.
At 0025hrs, I got my head down.

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May Your Maracas Remain Musical!
TTFNski
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Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

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Discussing death is not at all morbid,
I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’
I didn’t mind there was no altercation,
Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven!
Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid?
Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid…
Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid!
It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person,
Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration?
Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion?
Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen!
I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion,
Sid: You’re causing me some confusion!
Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion?
Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism,
Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism!
My faith in humankind’s incomprehension…
Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern!
At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum,
Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction,
Sid: But I’ll make this prediction…
Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven…
Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid,
Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid,
Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid!
Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid!
What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid!
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The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening.
The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia.
Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit?
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A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.

The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?

I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early.
&
It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates.
Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts.
I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit.
I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!

After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!

I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.

I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.

I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling!
When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago.
It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment!
It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding!
Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with.
I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!

The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!

Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥

I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha!
I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin…
Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so!
Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!

Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.

But I can remember making and eating the nosh!
Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added.
Yummy!
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TTFN, Everyone!
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Cockamamie Inchy: Wed 18 December 2024

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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day.
I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!

I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey!
I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!)
Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card?
I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!

Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.

The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have.
Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!

Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.

When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.

I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.

I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!

I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route.
What Morrison order!
I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door.
Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure.
There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been!
Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before.
Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.

Then things got even worse…
I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about.
The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven.
THE
A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it!
I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me?
Stupid Question.
I’ve lost the will to bother.

I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all.
Another failed plan for today.

I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one.
Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.

This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year.
And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.

I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven.
I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.

Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food. I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.

Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink.
Best not to waste them.

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WORRADAY!
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Keep Warm, Safe, sane and Happy!
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Somnipathy Inchy: Sunday 15th December 2024

Oh, got it now! Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –If I may describe the ways of Dementia,
She’s a brain attacker, my resident intruder,
A confuser, teaser, a permanent-squatter,
Some days, she’s a near 100% beleaguer,
Now she has got even craftier, crueller,
She created debilitating Sandra’s Seizures,
Also, bothersome Electric Shocking Sherida,
Their attacks give Doreen time to rest, recover,
It can’t be easy living in my cerebral matter,
Naturally, she’ll need time to recuperate,
While they give me hell, Doreen can resuscitate,
I think, really, she wants to be tender…
Or does it make me sound like a pretender?
Of course, this Ode is mostly conjecture…
No help from the Doctor, NHS or Pastor,
Hope is getting harder to muster…
I’ll just go battier, barnier & barmier?
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05:20hrs: I jiggled out of the hospital bed without suffering any mishaps. I freed the nocturnal catheter pouch and got on industriously (for me); I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bins out. I should, I suppose, have felt a smidge guilty as I checked out the empty crisp packets in the bed bin. One Marmite, one Frazzle, and two Pickled onion bags. Ahem!
The crumbs in the bed called for an all-off, shake-about, and a hoovering-up job. Which I bet the neighbour above may not have appreciated. It’s a loud vacuum. But I didn’t appreciate how early it was at first. But I was a good boy when it did dawn on me, and I stopped partway through, offering unheard apologies to the gentleman in the flat above.

Into the kitchen. Before the kettle had boiled, an urgent rumbling from the innards and passing of wind encouraged me to hobble hastily to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence ruled the session and took his time clearing a dirty-great load of watery, splashy, Karki-coloured evacuated product. My hearing aids are both kaputt, but I could hear the product splashing into the water two minutes later! On the bright side, there was no pain or bleeding whatsoever! Good! But a lot of cleaning was needed; the porcelain and the rear end parts of me! Not Good!
No shave this morning. Just a stand-up wash, clean and dry the areas about to be ointmentated. Not really, only little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and cleaning and creaming the groin were any hassle, pain-wise. Then it wasn’t too bad.

I went to make the tea and took it to the computer. I even remembered to change the day & date on the 1970’s clock. I dunked a large cookie in the tea and got that, which I often do. I feared I might have left the taps running in the wet room, so I checked. Why do I not get these worries and urges when I do leave it running?
Seeing the colour of the sky as I exited the wet room, I fetched the camera and took this shot of it. A much better effort than yesterday’s try. Smug-Mode!

I started updating yesterday’s blog; there was not much to add. I got it finished at 09:20 hours. I recall thinking, surely the Carer must have been by now? Then, the progress in computing took a backward step. Started, little and often, for around an hour or so. I found myself emptying the catheter day pouch in the WC; the clock showed 11:15hrs. I believed a Carer must have called while I was partially out of things. Got back to the computer and checked to see if any messages or missed calls were on the mobile. I don’t know how, but the phone had a message on it from 2022? Summat else broke? Then kicked off. This was about 11:30hrs and still no carer. I’m not confident enough to guess which tablets are for this problem. I took an extra Codeine later on. It got bad in the afternoon. arrived at 11:40hrs. Some had not turned in, and he looked tired, but only my EQ recognised it. The lad was not complaining. Hopefully, the Angina tablets, whichever they are, will start to work soon. Better late than never. It’s a devil of a job keeping to schedules at Christmas time. I know from my working days.

I’d gotten the Saturday blog sent off. I’m not sure how many errors there were, but it was a few, I reckon. I made a belated start on this blog. A stop-and-start affair was becoming less frequent now. I wasn’t happy about the bothersome Usually moving across and up and down the chest pains when they stayed in one place.

turned up, nice to see her. I had an extra Codeine as she was at her worst of the day. I got a little fretful once, but she’s calmed down a smidge now. It’s just the odd twinge to let me know she’s still there.

Were getting problematical again, but still less than a while ago around 16:00hrs.

I took a breather, deciding to take some snaps of the early evening views. I took these for over 15 minutes, which shows how fast it gets dark nowadays.

Getting weary again, the evening Carer might be here anytime now. If the poor thing has got caught up yet.

I’m planning on having some roast beef-filled rolls with tomatoes tonight. In fact, I’ll get them done now.
I am an impulsive old chap! Hehehe!

Carer Vic arrived, I asked him to open the jar of beetroot and pickled mushrooms for me.

The nosh went down well!
And very nice it was, too!.

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I’ve just…
I’ve just stabbed myself in my left hand,
Ailments and Whoopsies expand…
A bit of good luck would be grand,
Food will arrive tomorrow from Iceland…
There’s still danger from Putinland,
Tomorrow, I may cut my right hand?
I’m uneducated but still a gourmand,
In the event of going to the Hinterland,
Please play the music of Aka Bilk’s band,
Why I wrote this ode, I don’t understand.
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Have a wonderful day!
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Empathy Inchie: Saturday 14th December 2024

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A night of broken sleep again. No dreams, but a few awakenings from and ensured it was a horrible, miserable, painful night. I was in bed for six hours, but the sleeping part must have been far less. You know me; I don’t like to complain… too much. Hehe!

Carer Promise later gave the nocturnal weewee pouch a number 6 on the NHS Richter scale. Haha! I took the worst photo of the morning view from the kitchen window. I found later that all of Kojo’s photos were right out of the sink. I changed back to Kodak Tim after a few failures. I’ll ask Carer Christopher to see if he can reset the errors I must have made to my Kojo camera on Monday. Tsk!

It was too early to shower, so I had a stand session. Well, it started sitting down, really, on the Porcelain Throne. It was back with a vengeance. Talk about messy! It took me such a long time just cleaning up after that session on the seat!
Then I did the shaving… Dang dang, dang… Dang!
I didn’t do so well this time. I had a few, maybe ten cuts, all trifling ones, mind you. I got the Mini-Shakes but had not realised they were so imperceptive this time. Not only that, after I’d finished shaving and dowsed my head and neck in aftershave, I had a feel around the neck to see if they had stopped flowing, which they had… but the annoying new growths of hair on the back seemed to have avoided repeatedly the blades of the razors? I could sense them, almost hear them laughing at me. Har-Har! With my neurotransmitters dying of, I used the palm of my hand. Often, the finger ends lose all sensation. Like a week ago, two ago. I was in the kitchen and suddenly, only by smelling the burning flesh, realised I’d burnt three fingers on the oven racks! Still, I’ve got no oven now that it’s given up the ghost! I hope to have the new mini-oven fitted on Monday or Tuesday.

I removed my feet, which had been marinated in a bowl of hot water, and washed up liquid and Dettol while shaving. Drying them of when one cannot genuflect is a work of art. I found a way of wrapping some kitchen towels around the small picker-upperer so they don’t tear the towelling so much. Also, it gives me vital reach to get to the unbendable left leg of the Cartilage Chloe. Cunning, innit?

Now for dodgy duties. Today, I decided to medicate The fungal lesion on Little Inchie first instead of last. Get the painful one out of the way! I used the new cream on the lesion this morning instead of the Betamethasone cream for the first time. Blimey, it was almost painless! Naturally, the moving of the tubing was just as bad. But I’m not sure that it will work without pain. Haha! I’ll know by the morning when I wake up, I imagine. While on the lower regions of my whale-like, flabby body, I, both knees. I gave them a good long rubbing in, and by then, I tended to &
with the Phorpaining. I put the ankle ulcer rub on with the picker-upperer.
Then I water jetted out the ear holes and put olive oil in each canal.
Then I got the Blepha eye cleaner and gels rubbed in, hoping that would appreciate them and not make things go foggy so often today. Huh, that was a forlorn hope. Still, yer can’t win ’em all!
It was turn next. I also used the Barrier cream on them, as instructed by the district nurse. Never again, it’s back to the Germolene again in the morning. It’s expensive, but it eases the agony from the piles! This barrier cream did nothing for the pain. Humph!
Then, the I tried to leave in a less painful position. It didn’t work, and poor Little Inchie has had a rotten day of torment and discomfort. I shall have a word with the nurse when she calls again. I can’t understand it. Things have been much easier for Inchie for two or three days. Today, it was back to its worst ever! But, it’s only pain. If it wasn’t the Catheter, something else would be playing up… I wish it was. But then again, better the devil, you know.
Now, to barrier cream the man’s breasts, arms, belly, groin and where I can reach on the back of the neck. I left the breasts till last cause they had been so good the last couple of days.
The moment the cream touched under the man-udders, I jumped at the pain! I may have said a few naughty words and ARRGH as well.
I sprayed the nasal spray up each nostril and got my medical alert wristbands on. The Diabetic and Neuropathy Dementia ones have both broken and snapped off. Hey-Ho!

I put on the PPs, a gown, and a dressing gown; they are lovely and snug, too. Carer Promise came in as I put on the kettle to brew a cup of Co-op 99 tea. I asked him to put on my diabetic socks first, as my feet were rather cold while my uppers were warm. It was an odd feeling.
He looked after me and got them on for me. Medications were given. It was Promise who took the photo of the man’s breasts. Whatever it was that seemed to have developed, grown underneath them? I expected whatever it was to look all red and delicate, but as you can see above, it didn’t. What is it? The tenderness slowly eased over the day. It’s nearly six PM now, and I can touch them without pain. It’s a funny world, but you know that.

Carer Joanne did the net call. I think I was on the computer and in a seizure mode at the time. I talked a lot and felt we had a laugh about something.

The rest of the afternoon… well, was blank-ridden. I got all confused over the photos and made so many mistakes on the blog it was unreal. When and why I took this photo remains a mystery. Hand on, no, it doesn’t. I think it must have been to try the cheap camera again. Because it looks terrible. I guess I unwittingly changed some settings on it. Another problem for Carer Christopher to look at for me. Bless him.
I’m not sure, but I think I must have taken this this morning sometime...
I wonder if I’ll ever get help with these problems that keep bothering me? Mentally, I mean.
I’ll make something to eat after going on the WordPress Reader – if I remember to. Hahaha!

Carer Vic just called.
I will get summat to eat, but there is not much choice.
Instant mash & sausage with some beetroot, maybe.
I’ll not starve. Well…
Back in the morning. (He says)

FURRY OF THE WEEK.
From Tim Prices Blog.

Fabulous Furries and a great blog!

Yum, Yum!
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May the Force Be With You!

Tetchy Inchy: Wed 11th December 2023

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WHEN YOU WOKE UP…
Did you wake up this morning feeling breathless?
Still with your baldness? Any new bruises?
Or feel ambitionless? Did you go breakfastless?
Did you plan your day’s activities & bundobust?
Were you at your bubbliest or bleariest?
Maybe you expected your day to be banjaxed?
Were you composed, or did you feel a bloodlust?
Did your booziness make you wake in a blurriness?
Wake up with grumpiness or bounteousness?
Mayhap you had a craving for bifters?
Have you dreamt of nudists or babysitters?
Had a nocturnal visit from a burglarist?
Will you be able to find an NHS dentist?
I ask on behalf of an HMG behaviourist…
They’re thinking of raising VAT on toothpaste!
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I misspelt confirmation on purpose just to see if anyone would notice my rare error that wasn’t an error. Ahem!

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Great Balls of Fire! I got nearly six hours of sleep last night! Fair enough, it was broken a few times when dearest woke me in his criticising, debasing, mocking and cruel way. But, being as he dwells inside my head, I suppose it was me, or perhaps that was to blame. Either way, Two nights without sleep, then one with 4 hours, and now I’m up to 6 hours, albeit broken! I felt so much better when, at 05:00hrs, I returned to semi-mock-wakefulness.

I was in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 eleven years ago from the charity shop, recliner. So, I was able to remove the without getting up. I sat a little longer, thinking of a happy memory (and precious few are available) from 60 years ago. Oddly, I can’t recall her name, but the good bits I could and did. An even rarer thing happened during my daydream; I smiled!

I photographed the nocturnal pouch after freeing it from the day bag. Selina confirmed the colour as a five on the NHS Colour Card log.

Considering the events of the last few days, I felt a little perkier this morning. Naturally, with my experience and bad luck, I restrain myself from entering a .

En route to the kitchen to put the kettle on, then to visit the wet room, I had to divert straight to the wet room in response to the motion about to come of its own accord from my rear end! I tore off the dressing gown and plopped down, just in time to avoid another embarrassment. Messy, very messy, but painless and only a few streaks of blood. Naturally, a fair bit of cleaning up was needed. While washing the cleaning cloths in the sink, I remembered to do the barrier-creaming. It went okay, apart from , they didn’t like this new cream at all, and they let me know in their usual way. (Arrgh!) I may revert to the Germoloids for the back-passage in future.

I made up one waste bag and placed it near the front door. I noticed a strong cooking aroma in the flat. I checked, but it wasn’t from my kitchen. It seemed to permeate the place for hours? When checking in the kitchenette, I took a snap of the fridge. But I can’t remember why I took it now. Ah, well! Then I snapped a terrible photo of the morning view. Definitely no signs of Venus or Pluto seeable this morning.

I made a double tea bag brew. Thompsom’d Irish Breakfast and Signature ones. Nice and tasty with just a little drop of semi-skinned milk.
I didn’t notice any rain yesterday, and the roads are dry this morning, but look at the end car park mud slide’s view! Might have in the night.

After the midday carer’s visit, I made a bottle of spring water and added some cordial and a smidgeon of pineapple and orange juice.

As I was working away on the blog. I suddenly felt a little peckish. I’ll mate some cobs of some sort, and I reckon I can manage a couple. I think I’ll have some microwave sausages on the cheesy cobs and put some tomato ketchup with bacon flavouring on the tasty-looking bread rolls. I added some pickled beetroots. And I had a pot of Lemon Fool to boot! I don’t think I cooled the sausages enough. But, it all eaten up anyway! Well, I ate most of it!

I’ve had permission from the genius who took these photos of three of his fabulous furries at Cheese Treat Time.
The above link has a sunset that I didn’t know how to link on the blog. It’s worth the trouble to take a look at. It really is brilliantly taken. In New Mexico. Thanks, Tim!

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TTFNski & all the best!

Shortarse Inchy: Tuesday 10th December 2024

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Monday, I was at my awfullest,
I’ve got to get this of my chest…
WordPress lost the blog I’d written best…
I’ve never been so depressed!
Lost the ode of 33 lines, 15 photos at least,
900 plus words, some of my bestest!
I felt in a world of complete solitariness,
Showing a degree of stoicalness,
I did the blog again; anger & shirtiness,
No time to medicate or ablutionise…
Though I felt some frustration & stress,
Matron Jackie, Nurse Rayon, God bless…
Getting the 2nd one done, I felt astucious,
At the same time very carnaptious!
At times, EQ & I got a little contrarious,
If I had been born in the Cretaceous…
Would I have been luckier, more gracious?
I got on and did it again ’cause I’m cretinous!
I now sense that I’m more extraneous,
But by doing it, I felt more eximious!
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A good 4-hours kip last night. Not enough, I know, but a darned sight better than Zilch. And welcome all the same.
I didn’t wake up until after 0600 hrs. I immediately realised the Asda order was due at 06> 0700 hrs. They could have been, but I couldn’t hear the intercom going off. I prayed it would not be another day like yesterday!
I wanted a wash, shave, and shower badly, and I didn’t have one in yesterday’s turmoil. But dare not wait until later; I didn’t want to miss the fodder coming. Mind you, if I had known what I learned after the delivery, I’d have been better off locking the door! I’ll talk more about this a little later.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and took this terrible photo to ask the Carer to identify the shade number on the NHS graph card. Hours later, when I got the images on CorelDraw, I found this one on the left of the SD card. With Gladys Glaucoma sending my vision hazy so often, it took me ages to identify what it was I’d taken a photo of and why I did. I did sort the waste bags out, and I think this was the bag emptied on the kitchenette door handle. That’s my guess!

The Asda order arrived shortly after I’d done the waste bags.
The regular driver came. He is a nice bloke who does not get agitated when I ask him to put the food into boxes and bags I keep for the job. I put them into the hallway and cheerio’d the chappie as he left.
Then, I photographed the fodder as I emptied things out of the bag and boxes. I was building up my stock of spring water and soda water so I could do without an order come Christmas week. Also, the toilet rolls and kitchen towel stock were boosted a bit. Well, a lot, really. I never know if it will be a Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad visit to the Porcelain Throne. I got the nurses, Wardens, and Carer’s drinkies and treats built up and ready for the festivities.
What festivities am I on about? I don’t know. It just slipped out. There is no chance. I certainly shall not be festivalling. I like that word! I’m also stocked up with black bean sauces, bicarbonate of soda and fresh air sprays. In case Trotsky Terence should make a comeback!
Lemon desserts, bacon, pretend fish sticks, and some Macron. Aha, you ask, what is Macron? It’s Italiano lamb, sliced and shaped to look like its streaky bacon does. Expensive. You can smell and taste the lamb. I’ve enough bread, mostly cobs and Milk roll loaf, to last until the new year. Or even longer!
The freezer is entirely crammed with them. Carer Chloe helped me get them all into the freezer on her second call! Whether I can open the draws to get at them later is questionable. Haha!
Also, some microwave sausages. All of the rolls and baps have cheese in or on them.
There was even more in the following box; I think I got carried away ordering this lot! Still, it should give me more time to get other things done. I’m trying to contact the Audio clinic to tell the m about my hearing aids not working. Try to get an appointment, then book a lift there and back with Easy Link. Then, I must arrange to get a cooker to replace the current one that died a death on me.
I lost track a bit there, sorry.
I invested in a batch loaf, which the label claims has three cheeses baked. (Left)

While working away on this blog, & I took a snap of the view on offer from the kitchen window. No rain today, but it seems colder now.
I spotted the house in the snap on the left, with Christmas lights aglow. Fetched Kodak and returned to the kitchen, and they’d been turned off.

The District Nurse came again, bringing the medications from Carrington Pharmacy. They were both Barrier Creams. She showed me how to apply the cream and where to do it: on the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, the bloated colonies, under the man- breasts, on the top of the catheter leg, on the Acne and Eczema wherever they appear, and alongside the Germoloid to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. She stressed how important it is to do this twice a day. I insisted she take a nibble and a drinkie. Three more identical creams were delivered via the Post Office an hour later. Being looked after is rare but lovely!

I spent a few more hours on the blog and finally posted it.

Carer Christopher called, and I spent another hour on the computer before closing down. Then, for my meal of the day, I made three-cheese bread sarnies.
The bread with cheese was so gorgeous! So as not to waste the bread, I put half of it that I didn’t eat in a bag for Chris. I was so tired I forgot to place the barrier cream on the various parts of my body. I had to force myself to get up again and apply the cream. Applying it to the two egg-shaped glands in the scrotum was the second most painful. Putting it on Little Inchies fungal lesion, as the nurse said it would be, required a delicate application. Impossible with Peripheral Neuropathy shaking and lack of sensation on the fingers and hand. I’ll take a look and see if I can see it in the morning. She told me not to put too much on to be sparse. All the other areas were easy peasy to do. I returned to the bed and got settled, wondering if I could get to sleep… Zzz! For 6 hours uninterrupted!
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Hasta La Vista!

Inchy: Masses of Mayhem Monday 9th December 2024

I am shattered! I’d been doing this blog on and off (a busy day) for about eight hours. And, considering all the nurse’s visits and telephone calls with disturbing and good news, I was pleased with how much I’d got done come 19:00hrs.
I LOST THE WHOLE LOT!
I’VE NOT THE FOGGIEST IDEA WHAT I DID TO LOSE IT!
So here I am starting again after saving later photos as older ones to save memory. I’m in the shit! I even lost the 32 lines of my Ode! I am pissed off with myself and not exactly full of interest in trying again. The Carer who read it thought it was great… which makes me feel worse! I am not in a good place. Damned seizures must be to blame, or instead, whatever I did that cost me a day’s work! There just isn’t enough time to do it all as well again as I did.

Fed up! HEARTBROKEN!
My eyesight is bad. I’m so tired and weary of having two sleepless nights. The right hearing aid has broken down.
No way! I have not had time to reproduce what I thought was a fantastic Ode. So, after a day of struggling with other things, this happens! So, after all my work, getting this blog fully detailed with plenty of whitty bits scattered in it will have to be a rush job. Sorry! I’ll do my best. Even if it means a third sleepless night!
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I went to see Doctor Downing,
Who said I was rough-looking,
Have you done nowt about yer coffin?
I said Well, no! (between my coughing),
She said, “Well, put yer hearing aids in!”
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I must have tried to sleep for nine hours last night. How can someone be so tired and worn out and ‘not’ sleep? I can; that was the second sleepless night. I tried on the hospital bed, then moved into the second-hand, 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. But with and Anne Gyna, there was no chance. I gave up hope and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch, then went to make a brew of 99 tea. And I enjoyed it, despite nearly dropping it when I took to the computer. The need for the Porcelain Throne arose.

I went back to the kitchen and took snaps of the morning view. It was raining still. I first took a poor-quality shot of what I mistakenly called Venus yesterday. Tim Price informed me it was Jupiter. Then a straight-ahead view of the lights from the streets of Sherwood.
Another poor effort.
I started the 32 lines of the Ode. (That I lost along with the rest of the blog eight hours later). Cragknangles, Thunderisations! Criggleblogsworthisms! Grobognangles! Frangleklops! Oy-yoy-yoy! Crigglebogsnot! Grobbleknangles! Grufflemoan! Skullgranglebonks! Granglespithowlations! & Grobbledamitt!

Carer Richard arrived. I’m sure I had many mini-bouts while Richard was here.
Fifteen minutes of hazyness.

I struggled to return and find where and what I was doing on the blog. I took a breather and tried to add to and remove some items on my Asda order for Wednesday. No, it’s Tuesday or tomorrow! That means I have to be up early, it’s coming at 0600 to 0700hrs. And here I am, two sleepless nights, and it is already gone, 2200hrs. I’m doing the blog I lost again. I am so frustrated! Anyway, I couldn’t sign in on the Asda site. I spent a fair time trying to get in without any luck. So, I changed the password for the third time. Care Chloe arrived with more distractions. She helped me write the new complicated password clearly, but it would not let me in. I decided to try again later. Same thing, no-go. So, I tried using Firefox and got in. By then, I’d forgotten what I wanted to add and remove the order. Is it worth me trying to carry one?

Eventually, despite reinvigorated attacks from Ann Gyna and Shocking Sherida, I got back into a system of sorts and was doing well on the blog. (The first one, of course)

Matron Jackie arrived, and we spoke about the medications and prescription getting difficulties. She told me the Doctor had just sent the prescription today to the chemist. So it should be ready for collection on Wednesday; I explained the procedure to Carer Richard, who is in control.

Then a lovely nurse turned up; Matron Jackie had asked her to visit me so she could… Ahem!
Check on my arms, man breasts and chest. Which was fine by me.
Also, the catheter strap scars, , , My mandarin-sized testicle, condition, and the welts and pressure spots on my flabby stomach. I think I masked my true feelings, okay. The nurse told me I was wearing the day pouch too low.
We spoke of the creams that I think are at the Chemist and are now awaiting collection from Carrington. I pointed out that the Caregiver (Richard) calls each Monday, sorts out which medications are needed, and lets the Doctor know. He called this morning, and there were no prescriptions for me there.
She thought the Carers applied the creams on me and helped me bathe. I said they do not, and I’ve never asked them to. The nice nurse will let Matron Jackie know about the ailments and medications when she gets back to base.

I got back to blogging. With all the breaks, it was enough to concentrate on the work (without losing it all! Cribblebogangonies! Glunglegnatsworth! Skullgranglebonks! Cracklepackers!

I was just about to investigate what I would have for my meal (This was 7 hours ago now, and I’ve still not got it, having to do the blog twice). Dungunblast! And the landline chirruped.
It was Matron Jackie ♥. She’s been busy helping me out. She confirmed that the cream and lotions will be ready for collection from the Carrington Pharmacy on Wednesday.
She had arranged for future prescriptions to be sent to a different chemist, Jaypoen, in Daybrook. She confirmed they would take me on their list. The best part is that they will deliver the prescriptions to the flats! I looked on Google Maps and got this picture of the shop. Obviously, I misheard Matron; it was Jayplex Chemist, not Jaypoen. It is much nearer than the Carrington shop on Mansfield Road in Woodthorpe.
But if I do have to go there, there is a darned steep hill to use to get me there. Hey-Ho! I don’t think I would manage it in my condition. Well, I know, I tried a few months ago.

THE CALAMITY OCCURED!
So, I started this second blog.
I am just too tired and will try to finish it in the morning.
I did take two snaps, though, when I was making the stew in the crock pot. The rain has stopped now, and it is getting dark so early. A little later, I spotted what I thought was Venus in the dark sky. I now know that it is Jupiter. Tim Price pointed out my . I’m very good at them, you know. Hang on, with the cock-up, I think I took the Jupiter shot in the morning. Yes, I must have cause this is the other snap I took tonight. I’ve got in such a mess; I already put the ~~Venus~~ Jupiter one on! Humph!
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My primary reaction to today
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TTFN.