Angina

Inchy Today: Friday 20th December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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HMG’s Labour are ridden with hebetudinous, 
Backhanded by tailors, clothiers & haberdashers,
Football seats, glasses… there’s no hiatus,
Killing stealing from pensioners, they’re haematophagous
Herr Starmer, who is emotionally listless…
What else can he tax for Christmas?
No doubt, he’s planning more humdingers!
Encouraging pensioners to become homeless?
Heat or eat? Stopping winter fuel help was heinous!
His lying by omission was horrendous…
Farmers, pensioners, left helpless…
As I prewarned, a Labour win will be hazardous,
He’s created a land of worried householders, 
Imbued in depth to the voters, hopelessness,
Revealed his backhander hungriness…
With the compasson of a hypopotamus,
Or scavenging, greedy, hunting hyenas!
Displaying heartlessness and haughtiness,
He’s dangerous; well, certainly not harmless!
To Labour voters, the future seems hopeless,
We must now be weary, scared & hypercautious,
Starmer will always be unsafe and hazardous…
Best see a Doctor, hypnotherapist, or herbalist!
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A rundown on the not-so-good things today:
①: l left the hot water tap running… thus there was no hot water to shave or shower.
②: The nurse didn’t show up.
③: I took a tumble in the junk room. Thankfully, Carer Joanne was with me and got me up again.
④: Electric Shocking Sherida went for nine hours without bothering me at all. At about 17:00 hours, she kicked off and is still electrocuting me now as I write this.
⑤: The most annoying thing was the Seizure Sandra and, or, the Memory Blanks. These left me wondering where the time went today. What I really did today. I can recall most things, but there were primarily bad things or thingamibobs.
⑥: While in a seizure, I assume I’d made an order for Morrisons through Amazon???
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I can remember waking up and looking at the clock. I was a trifle befuddled… it was 08:35hrs. I’d been in the bed for 8 hours, bejesus! I only woke up a few times, five maximum, methinks!
Then I had to access Doreen Dementias’s brain and work out if I was expecting any delivery, medical personnel or other caller. I was pretty sure there was no food arriving. Then I recalled the nurse saying she would call to check on the lesions, pot marks, Eczema & Acne. But which day? I felt sure she would not call early… but she did not appear.

I started the daily drudgery.
.Starting with removing the catheter nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Johanne gave it a 6 on the NHS scale.

I felt a little guilty after discovering that the hot water tap had been left on for all those hours. And did a bit of house… well, flat work. There was no stopping me once I got going…

I moved the prescription medications that had arrived last night into the kitchen near the medicine chest.

I cleaned the parts of the air fryer.
Thought I’d done a decent job. And no spillages or dropping anything… up to now, anyway. I did cut my finger cleaning inside.

The new mini cooker was given the hygiene treatment. The counters, as well. Not that much of them were exposed. Now I have the mini-cooker, mini air fryer, microwave and slow cooker scattered about, filling most of the prep workspace. Tsk! 

I cleared the mess and emptied the waste bags, placing them near the front door to take to the rubbish chute later in the day.

I vaguely remember photographing the morning view from the kitchenette window.
Later, I found that it looked like this on the right. A sort of photo of nothingness? Sad!

But my energy and willpower had not faded yet! Oh, no, I seemed to have the bit between what few teeth I had left!

I tipped spring water into two Schweppes bottles I had been imbibed and added some flavouring and effervescent Paracetomals.
Lemon to one, and orange cordial to the other. Very nice!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and went with it to the computer. I changed the dates on my old-fashioned calendar clock and was about to start on the blogging duties, but I realised that no carer had called yet. This being about 0945hrs. I hoped someone was not ill. 
A little later, Carer Joanne came in. She apologised for being late. But I didn’t mind at all. We had a natter as she fitted me a new Catheter-Day-Bag and mesh cover. Then she removed the socks I’d forgotten to last night and put a loose-fitting pair of short Diabetic ones on for me.

After Joannne departed, I entered a phase of constant Mini-Siezures. I went from feeling rather industrious to a whimpering, concentrationless dumbo. This lasted for hours. Yet I still found when I’d come out of it that I’d finished and posted the blog and made a start on this one?
Hours later, I found an email from my friend and neighbour sent by Jenny ♥. Informing me that the email I’d sent with the link to Friday’s blog I’d mailed was not working. Yes, I’d done it again! Finished the blog but did not post it!!!
That must be the third time I’ve done that this week! I mentioned that I had some food to give away and I’d take them to the laundry room after the nurse called. Jenny kindly rang back, saying she’d come up and collect them for me. Bless her.
It’s lovely having a natter and laugh. Thanks. Jenny!♥

I was feeling more with it again now. 
Then, I got an email from Amazon telling me my order was coming from Morrison’s. And one did! 
How can I make an order, send it off, and not recall making it?.
It was not a big one, granted. The biggest surprise was that I ordered three boxes of x160, 99 tea bags! I am aware I was getting low on these teabags, but what in hell did I buy the other stuff for? I give up
I can’t get any help. Then again, do I deserve any. 
A deeper than usual dawned.
I got the rest of the stuff packed away.
The fridge had so much food in it. And I’m not eating much lately.
I could use the word frustrated. The other words I thought of are better left unspoken at this point.
I hope the cruelly expensive tomatoes I bought will keep fresh enough until I need them. I’ll have some tonight with something or other. Or not.
The black tomatoes are already turning to a brown colour.
Mind you, they do taste delicious. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but they have a flavour almost like eating meat. Gorgeous!

I’ll wait until Christopher’s last call before eating anything. His Christmas present is coming tomorrow, and I’m praying they have it in stock.

Carer Christopher arrived on his next to his last visit. I didn’t mention my cock-up with the ordering food again. Well, he was in a decent mood.

I went on the WP Reader.
Chris arrived for an early last call.
And I got some food made.
Back in the morning. TTFNski.

Good Morning – I have not been to bed yet.
Taking me longer than ever!

NOSH
Tomato sarnies – with No-butter-butter.
Pickled beetroot & mushrooms.
Frankfurters. Marmite Cheese.
Raw Garden Peas.
With a lemon-fool to follow.
NICE!
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Not feeling too good at the moment, Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, (I think) I’ve pulled the catheter tube, and Little Inchie is sore!    – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

KEEP WELL, MON AMI’s

Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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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

/ Inchie / 8 Comments


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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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Depressed Inchy: Monday 16th December 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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I’ve still not made an appointment with the audiologist,
Life’s gone all confused, with more abstrucities,
Now I’ve got problems with the new Pharmacist,
The prescriptions were not delivered by the chemist,
Got to phone Matron at the clinic…
Then, the dispenser chap at Jaypex,
I was less confused with Covid and Brexit!
Hearing aid kaput, that takes the biscuit!
Can’t hear folks talk on the phone; dolorific!
Got to ring Matron Julie; that’ll be terrific!
Plans and logic have gone folkloric!
Are my memories actual or fictitious?
I thought the swap-over was completed?
My remaining confidence is now depleted!
Problems! But am I to blame or guiltless?
Mix-ups, failures, unknown conjunctures…
Forgot, misheared, errors are circumforaneous!
Baffling, min-bending, even deceptious,
Many complications; I dare not make a list!
What happened with the gastroenterologist?
It was long ago, memories in a fog & mist,
Fears, worries, rampant, not just a glitch,
Thought I was helping with the chemist switch,
Frustration, I’d had far more than a glutch,
They ask me things, but Memory Mangling Iris…
Has me guessing answers, not sure, hyperbolic,
My thoughts are non-heuristic, pathetic,
The nut Doctor said I was hypokinetic…
Don’t understand it, but I can remember it!
I need some help before I go manic,
I’m getting nothing solved, chewing at the bit,
New meanings and instructions just don’t fit,
I’ve never been so misanthropic,
My brain is ever more peripatetic,
I suppose this reads rather pessimistic?
I think that was the idea and or trick…
Peripheral Neuropathy, seizures, a diabetic…
Angina, Glaucoma, knees & hands arthritic,
So many ailments I can feel phantasmagoric!
No wonder I’m going all self-pedantic!
Folks should see that I’m oxymoronic…
Double-check I’ve not made a mistake,
Get me help… that’d be just the tonic!
Depression can be recidivistic…
Shames and embarrassments are automatic,
This day I have a new enuredness…
Life today enfolds a deeper equivocalness,
Murkiness, obscurity, apprehension,
Anonymity, tension, lack of invention…
I suppose I’m a mental circumforanean,
Full of depression and exasperation?
Self-pity, grumpy and mental exhaustion,
There’s one possibility, one explanation…
My self-floccinaucinihilipilification?
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05:10hrs: Got up and took the night pouch off. 
I decided to finish the Sunday blog, shower, perform Throne duties, have a shave, and put on my trousers, ready to go to the shops later. Huh!

I cleaned up a mess I’d left in the kitchen sink, made up the waste bags, and got on with the blog—but not for long. The innards rumbled and off to the Porcelain Throne.
The evacuation took 30 seconds, and the cleaning up afterwards took about 10 minutes.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
The Asda order arrived.
This one was in a big, big order.
The fridge was filled.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Richard arrived. He was not very happy with me for changing the chemists around. I was hurt a smidge, not the lad in any way. It’s just that when Matron Julie suggested changing it, I thought that it would be a good idea to save Richard from fetching the medications for me each month. But he’d set up a system with the Carrington Chemist. Not only that, Richard said the prescriptions should have been delivered by now from the Jayplex Chemist. I must ring them today to find out what is going on. I felt terrible at getting it wrong, and Depression Duncan came on. Everything I try to do to help seems to fail! 

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Chloe came, and I was in a part-depression and part-seizure mode. I explained why to her. She issued the medications and went to check the taps for me…
I’d left the hot tap running! 
It had run cold. So, no washing and shaving until tonight when the heater comes on. Another bout of self-name-calling, and I got so angry with myself over it. It was getting to me even deeper now. I felt awful.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. I got a text message, followed by another one, before I could get to my super-new mobile phone. Hehehe!
But the message thingy told me, ‘Unable to save this message’ on both calls. Now, I wondered if it might be from a company that might be delivering the prescriptions. But, like most things in this world, it was a mystery to me. Maybe it was to tell me a parcel is on its way? I’ll never know. I deleted some messages, hoping they could or might send them again. And praying that it was the medications in the first place. No shopping for me, and no shaving, scrubbing, or medication until the evening when the water gets hot enough to wash & shave. I think that might be read wrongly.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. 
They were kicked off, and now, five hours later, they are still with me! Fortunately, they have all been short ones up to now. Enough to break the already near-absent concentration, though.

I gave up on the blogging. What I’ve got is all I can put on. found a new depth.
I can’t recall it being so frustrating for a long time. Of course, I and ‘remembering’, do not have a strong affinity.

I felt even worse now, thinking that the prescription may of may not be coming. I was also too scared to use the tap to make a brew of Glengettie because I was afraid of running even more water. All in all, I was on a downer.
So, I decided to make an early nosh. But being blessed with indecisiveness, a lack of willpower, and aboulomania, combined with a degree of… well, forgetting things, I forgot about the food and went on the WordPress Reader.

Cheesy cobs with no-butter-butter
beef and tomato slices. Garden peas.
Pickled eggs with black pepper.
Shop-bought pickled silverskins &
Home Pickled, pickled mushrooms!
Lipsmackingly Good!
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TTFNski, Each!

Somnipathy Inchy: Sunday 15th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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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Apathy Inchy this Sunless, Friday 13th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Sometimes, one must be strict,
Especially if Summat’s been nicked,
Or someone acted uncaringly wicked,
Be it by human creatures or bionic,
Suitable punishment would be a tonic,
Sentences & crime do not befit,
Murder sentences are bullshit,
To save the cost of housing in the nick,
Parole Boarders are so easy to bootlick,
Provided inside with drugs & arsenic,
Solutions are beyond the bureaucratic,
Then, there’s Starmer & the Tory’s deficit!
His rosy cheeks indicate an alcoholic,
Who’s not diplomatic but diabolic!
Robbing pensioners was rather drastic,
His stealing from the poor & increased taxes,
Complains about this from Unions & Voters,
Keir ignored them, and they hoicked,
Freebies? He’s self-absorbed, narcissistic,
Take his vows with ethylenediaminetetraacetic,
Listing his backhanders would be encyclopaedic,
To the Labour party values, he’s econoclastic…
This ode sounds docudramatic,
But I can do nothing but kvetch…
The ode’s themes are, sadly, logorrhoeic,
And far from being mesmeric…
The name Starmer I use as a mnemonic,
When I can’t recall the word pathogenic!
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I woke late and might been even later if it had not been for the unintentional waking me up from the dream I was having by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. And it was not the leg! The last time I made an unpremeditated Hitler Salute was many months ago. This morning’s  ‘Heil Hitler Salute’ knocked over two bottles of spring water, two bags of Frazzles, and a teaspoon & fork. (Although they may be dropped in my slumber, especially if I have a dream or seizure. I tend to do a fair  bit of nocturnal damage, you know!) 
The dream was a good one, what bits I can recall. I was on the roof of the flats, and I couldn’t remember the door code to get back in. So I jumped off the building (15 floors), landing in a tree. An ambulance arrived instantly. Three medics came to, I thought, rescue me. But instead, they beat the hell out of me and took my bank card, demanding the number. I swore at them… something else happened… I was under the ambulance with one of the medics with a notebook and a pen bent over me. Telling me that the ambulance would run slowly over my bone-dome if I didn’t give them my pin… Well, I couldn’t remember it! She called to the driver, and the bloodwagon’s front wheel started to press against my head. I’m sure I thought to myself, ‘Ah, sod it!’ The next second, I was in bed Hitler Saluting, which clouted my knuckle against the wall, and reining in my arm, I bashed my elbow and hit my head on the safety bar. Knocking stuff off the overbed table. Still, I thought it was much better than getting my head crushed underneath an ambulance. (I was temporarily confused between reality, logicality and fantasy, then?)

I let my head clear… as straightforward as it will ever be, and removed the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch from the day bag. Later, Carer Chris Confirmed this bloodied pouch had a number 6 rating on the NHS check card. Far too red!

I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a small mug of Co-op 99 tea. 
Taking a couple of snaps of the morning view.
A lot of difference in the sky colour. They were taken within about three minutes of each other. The green aura was back again. This often comes morning and night. No idea why.

Kettle on, and I hobbled to the wet room to get the ointmentating done in my private areas. Piles, Little Inchies fungal lesion, under my arms and man-breasts. Hehe! Plenty of cream to use. I hope I remember ordering some more on time. On leaving, I managed to get my leg tangled up with . Which tugged at , and she’s not forgiven me now, 12 hours later! Hope I’ve not made things worse than usual. I’ll see how it goes.

Carer Chris arrived in a jolly mood. It was nice to see that. He and I forgot to put the diabetic socks on. But he invoked changing the day catheter rigmarole for me. Did a good job, too. Then he took some photos of me with different expressions on my mush to use later in the Inchy Today… tomorrow.

Later, after struggling, I still got them saved, so I took this snap of the computer screen with them in CorelDraw.

I sorted the bin bags out and felt I’d forgotten something. So I checked around, including taps, fridge and freezer doors, windows, etc. But I felt uncomfortable not knowing why everything was alright after looking around.  

They kicked off and stayed with me for at least three hours until Carer Joanne came. I was trying to sort the Thursday blog finalising. But it was hard work with all the correcting I had to do. The gal had done the not-machine-washable gowns for me again. She really is a lifesaver. We laughed and joked, and I did most of the talking. I do that too often. Tsk!


Ace reporter & photographer Inchy of Cell 72 took these photographicalisations of the fire from his kitchen.

I put Radio Nottingham on to see it. I could find out where it was; it looked close, maybe on Hadyn Road.

The intercom burst into song. I was a delivery. Surely I had not done it again and ordered more bloody food?
Nope, it was the Mini-oven that was due tomorrow.
And it is much bigger than I thought it would be. But the deliveryman carried it through to the kitchen for me. I’m doubting it will fit on the old clapped-out stove now.
I’ll ask Carer Chris when his next day in is and beg him to help me fit it.
It looks wider than the flipping freezer!
Oh, dear, another Inchy Cock-up?

Carer Chris came later. He seems to think it might just go on the stove. He opened the box to check. I’m not sure, but I hope the lad can manage it for me. Bless him.

I got the rolls and onion out of the fridge. (I can’t get into the freezer, whimp me, can’t move the mini-cooker, it’s too heavy for me to manage. Tsk!
I got back on the computer and was impressed with how far I’d got on with it. !

Well, it’s now 19:25. It’s a toss-up between washing, eating, or going to bed. No problem. I’m too tired to wash and can’t sleep anyway, so I’ll make up the two cheese cobs with red onion, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, and beef with no-butter butter and have summat to eat. That sounds fair enough to my gluttony. Hehehe!

Hopefully, I’ll be back in the morning to finish this.
TTFN.

I got the meal sorted.
The resulting feast.
Three cheese bread rolls are spread with extra-strong cheese paste, ham, tomatoes, red onions, and pickled mushrooms. I forgot the beetroot. Tsk!

Carer Chris arrived for the last call. He removed the diabetic socks, medicated me, and grabbed some nibbles and a drinkie to help me sort out the mini-cooker on Monday. I hope he does anyway.
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Keepeth well and safe. I wish everyone could.

Twitchy Inchy: Thursday 12th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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05:30hrs:  I stirred, with Cartilage Chloe giving me pain the moment I tried to genuflect the leg. She’s still bothering me a bit now. I detached the night ouch from the catheter day pouch. A little dark, but I’ve had far worse. I felt pretty good as I started plodding around, apart from Chloe. There have been no electric shocks so far! It was very cold this morning. I sorted some waste bags and limped into the kitchen. I snapped a picture of the morning view and checked the fridge to ensure I could fit all of today’s food in when the delivery arrived. 
I removed a pack of the horrible-tasting Asda brand cheesy topped rolls and binned them. Make a fine, tasty brew of Glengettie tea, and I got the computer booted up.
The Windows update brought up some Microsoft details that confused me about what it was reading. Grrr!
Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose in a rush. I got to the wet room ASAP, only just in time as things started moving of their own accord. Trotsky Terence controlled. Messy, back to the Karki colouring, pooey, and sticky. It took a lot of cleaning up. I cleaned and ointmentated various body areas and parts in need. I have no shortage of Barrier cream!
The intercom chirped up. It was the J Sainsbury order arriving. The driver soon appeared at my doorway and was very helpful & understanding of my problems. Thank you, driver!
As I began to put them away, Carer Sam arrived. With the order on my mind, I forgot to ask her to put on my diabetic socks. Tsk! Sam issued the medications, and we had a mini-natter and a laugh. I wondered if she knew how long one had to pickle mushrooms before one could eat them, as I intended to try making some today. Neither of us knew, so I’ll look it up later on the web. Off she went… and I got back to unpacking the foodstuffs. I’ll do it now! 

Oh, dear! I remembered I did not have a cooker now! So I can’t boil them. Humph!

Back to unloading and storing. This photograph shows potato chunks, mushrooms (Huh!), beef tomatoes, beetroot chilli, a jar of garden peas, imitation butter, and lemon desserts. 
Some drinks and nibbles. Then I checked the fridge, but there was almost no difference from the one I had taken earlier. No shortages, though.
Plenty of jars of meat, few cans in the cupboard, and some long-life, ready-made meals to do in the microwave. 
Then I took another kitchen window shot. I think that is the last I remember taking that picture, for about an hour or so. The most odd seizure that I’ve ever had. Time to call the medics! I was back on the computer when things became more transparent about what was what. I was searching for the Nuthall Hospital number, and the landline chirped. Who was it? A lady from Nuthall Hospital! Amazing! They are cancelling next week’s appointment and will make a new one for the new year. Me? I thanked her very much and wished her a Happy Christmas. As I was emptying The Catty Catheter day pouch minutes later… It came to me that I forgot to tell her about the seizure & I was worried about it lasting so long. I gave up and didn’t bother again! EQ informed me it will get worse, mate! It did, too! And went into another seizure. Just a few minutes worth. I made silly errors in what I did on the blog while I was semi-conscious. A depression dawned.

I went to the wet room, intent on showering, shaving, and doing the teggies. Then, get the medications sorted. Not a chance! Carer Sam came in. Mind you, it was nice to see her again. She got my diabetic socks on for me. It may only have been for a minute or two of nattering, but it was good and relieved my tensions somewhat. It didn’t last for long but it was nice.

Naturally, after she’d gone, I forgot about my showering. I went contentedly back on the computer.

Peripheral Pete gave me half an hour or so of one-legged dancing, a sort of cross between doing the Oki-Cokey and the Stomp! The two ailments have lasted longer than ever before. I wondered what the third would be.
When the one-legged come dancing was over, I went to make a brew of tea.
I realised I had not thoroughly cleaned up after the food delivery, so I made another waste bag for the chute.

I have started pottering around and have never finished doing endless unrelated jobs. Finally, I’m convinced another visit from Seizure Sandra had got me, of all things, starting to make some pickled mushrooms? I even took photos of the process!  However, I had another leg dance when Carer Chris came in and dropped the camera. Chris looked at it and thought it was alright. But when I came to upload the three photos after he’d gone, they were not on the card. The camera was Kaputt! Now, I hit the depths of depression and disbelief! 
I snapped this screen to see if Kodak had saved it to the card. Dag-my-Knangles, it did! But look at the fading on the right side? I took another shot, fingers crossed and praying. I took one of the evening views from the kitchenette window. This one seemed alright? I thought I’d take a shot of the ‘Inchie-inspired jar of pickled mushrooms with seasoning and water chestnuts in pickling vinegar. It says on the web to leave it for a minimum of three days to season the mushrooms, but it is best to leave it for a minimum of 5 days before eating. It also said how easy it was to make them. Easy & me, do not go together. At least they should be okay to eat for Christmas. And the photo looked to be alright this time. 
I’ve got two cheesy cobs out of the freezer. Here is my plan; Slice and no-butter butter the cobs. Slice some tomatoes with some salt, maybe some beetroots on the side? Slice some red onion to go in the cobs perhaps. Whichever, I’ll turn the TV on to see if anything is worth watching and get the cobs done.

The Liberty-Global-owned Virgin TV was turned on, and for ten seconds, all looked well. Then A screen filled fully with a message telling me that an updated version is now available. Press the Install Now or Do it Later (Or not now) tab. Of course I tried but nothing happened, the screen remained there annoyingly. I tried turning it off several times, and I got the same result each time! Failure! 
Eventually, it clicked. The message was not from Virgin; it must have been from the TV makers, Bush, that Liberty-Global engineer (I’m talking loosely here), routed through the Virgin Fibre thingy. There followed a one-hour search for the bush remote control. It was a bit of a miracle that I found it at all.
Then, I pressed the Not Now option. Great!
Then… it came back on every ten minutes! I gave up and nervously pressed the Install button.
I was fed up and turned Del Boy on the TV. 
Then, the message came up again.
I clicked install, and a mass of options came up that I didn’t really understand, in the least!
The screen went blank.
I swore, could I take anymore?
To my amazement, the TV came back on.
Now, I will need both remote controls to us it.
I was struggling to get used to one!

Carer Chris will be here soon; no time for me to get the food done before he arrives. I’ll start prepping the nosh. I can wrap it up to keep it fresh for later. I hope Chris doesn’t stay too long… I may have to start eating him. Hahaha! I gave the lad one of the two iced buns with cream. He said he’s taken some photos of facial expressions for me tomorrow morning. So I can use them later on the blog. We’ll see if I remember.

I just realised that I didn’t have the shave & shower!!!

Two cheesy cobs, heavily spread with no-butter butter, and sliced tomatoes slightly salted. Surimi sticks, raw fresh garden peas. A pickled egg and mushrooms. Cooked sweet-chilli beetroots with chopped red onions. Followed by an iced bun with cream! 
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Many Good Fortune befall you!
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Inchy: Masses of Mayhem Monday 9th December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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.

Scratchy Inchy: Sunday 8th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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At the bayou, having mayhap a barbecue,
Or you may be out hunting deer or caribou?
Answering the taxman’s letter at your bureau,
On the Porcelain Throne, using the tissue?
With your beloved, about to bill and coo, 
Or just thinking, what’s the world coming to?
At the bar, having your 13th drinkypoo?
Watching a movie, The Battle of Waterloo?
Eating your takeaway curry with aloo?
Enroute to hospital after a blanscue?
Practicing fencing or jujitsu?
Just back from holidaying in Limpopo?
You could be shopping, waiting in a queue?
At the Zoo, looking at a sucuruju?
At a show, Hard Rock or burlesque?
Sorting out a medical snafu?
The 4-minute warning sounds… Woo-Woo-Woo!
What do you do? – Cause it’s due!
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Māori: A hill in Porangahau, New Zealand.
Name In English; ‘Music playing at the same time’.
The longest place name in the world.
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I woke around 03:00hrs, fell asleep and shot awake again at around 06:00hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the catheter day pouch. I emptied and wrapped the pouch up for disposal.
When I made these, I found I had an intense thirst. So, I made some bottles of spring water and flavoured them: orange and pineapple in different measures for the small bottles and lime juice for the larger ones.
When starting to sort the waste bags, I  needed the Porcelain Throne. I grabbed and we poddled off to the wet room.
Constipation Conrad was still in charge, but I felt less pain & it bled less. The two- and three-toned colours had gone. This visit, it was back to a light Kharki.

I washed as I insist on this thrice a week, even if not needed. Hehe! I put the compiled bag near the front door. And back to the blog.

I took this shot of the view from the kitchenette window when I went to check that I’d not left the hot water tap running. It doesn’t show, but it was raining. I returned to the computer and took a snap of the ancient clock diary thingamabob. It showed 0623hrs as the time. So, I misread read it earlier?

I struggled with the things I had got wrong and changed yesterday. Some of the corrections were wrong as well. So I had a go at sorting my own made mess. arrived, so I immediately knew I would be in a quagmire when I returned to the sorting after Shaquille had gone. I’d had a sort of pre-warning that depression & irritability were imminent for me to suffer. It was right, too!

Shaq was his usual calm, laid-back self. A nice lad. He got the medications sorted and issued. He put my diabetic socks on for me. It is much appreciated; it is blooming cold today. The lad left, and I returned to computer cock-up sorting…

I got into a chronological turmoil that left me just hoping things would come out right. I was lost, really. I had photos and graphics spread over three days of templates.
I thought at least three times that I’d got it right. But, No! I think I was more confused than when I first discovered them on yesterday’s blog. !
I gave up and hoped for the best. Which was good timing cause kicked off. Things would have been impossible to sort out if she had been in action during my rescue efforts for the blog. Not that I think they have been sorted. Maybe they have been made less noticeable, conceivably. Whichever and whatever, I started to update the Saturday blog at long last. Hello, I wondered what that noise was. The rain and wind are coming again, but it’s gone dark! I’ll try to take a photo of the rain coming into the balcony.
I went through the doors into the balcony, and the rainwater came above the boardwalk planks, and I now have two more wet socks, slippers and feet!
Double Humph!
I took a shot from the end window as I got soaked. I must say that the weather looked horrible out there.
The mudslide appeared to be mammoth-sized. The wind howled, and rain poured as if thrown at us by the Gods above! As the stagnant-standing rain reached my left slipper toes. I got back into the flat post-haste.

arrived to do the afternoon visit. She looked at the blog and laughed at my writings about the terrible day that I was having. Hehehe! Not really, she laughed with me, not at me ♥.

I continued to get the blogging/correcting advance. It took me hours to get Saturday’s blog titivated enough to post it off.

I gave up on the computer and got a meal sorted. Early to bed for me, the plan was to eat, then sleep – needed desperately. I think that I ought to have enjoyed this meal. But didn’t. I threw most of it away. I believe this is due to a sleep-stopping bug I must have caught. 
As for the rest of the day, your guess is as good as mine up to about 21:30hrs. I was feeling suddenly shattered. I realised in the morning that I had been working on Sunday’s blog and had gotten a lot done. Made a mess of most of it, thanks to the weariness and multiple and persistent .
 Carer Ali answered the teatime call and asked if I wanted him to call the doctor. The doctor? On a Sunday evening? It was nice of him to ask and recognise my state. Looking back, I recall struggling to find the words as we spoke. Sheer fatigue, and I’d done very little physical activity all day? All I wanted to do was sleep. Huh! After he’d gone, I lay precisely where I was on the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Carer Richard arrived as I was nearly nodding off. I chirped up a little after getting up and stubbing my toe. I was, I think, communicating better.
Within a few minutes, my tiredness returned, and I was back in the recliner. I couldn’t get to sleep in the recliner, so I moved into the hospital bed. Then things got worse,  , and joined in, assisted with the odd sharp  interludes; this assured that it was another night of No-Sleep.
It was horrible, and I didn’t feel all that good on Monday morning (Now).
Poor old sausage.
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TTFNski
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Defective Inchy: Saturday 7th December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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PAREIDOLIABLE FIGURES IN THE SEA
FACES, THERE ARE 3 TO SEE.
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I’ve been left in the lurch, besmuched,
Abandoned, ignored, and besmirched,
At first, this left me puzzled…
Like a dog that had been muzzled,
But I’m no longer bothered or troubled,
As my concentration departed, well, idled,
To my inanity & insanity, I came beguiled…
At least when my ailments were still mild,
Soon, they permanently bivouacked…
In my brain, aliens boondoggled,
The inner voices spoke; well, bastinaded,
Often delirious, worryingly bloviated,
They’re me, really, so can’t be hated?
This fact is worthy of being debated,
But results have become complicated,
For relief & help I waited & waited,
As one does when one’s constipated,
At a minimum, insanity & I are related,
It’s myself that I’ve berated…
My problems can’t really be explicated,
I can & do, at times, feel enervated,
Causing more fears to be generated,
Often I’m feeling enfeebled, exhausted,
Decision-making gets debilitated,
Common sense practicality is ingurgitated,
Plans, choices made are perpended…
Worries for the future proliferated,
The simplest acts get shemozzled,
There’s always a reason to be wherrited,
Designs and choices get aberrated,
Lifting moments, hopes just get withered,
Now we’ve got storms to be weathered,
Thoughts unchanneled and cancelled…
Long ago, I became tee-totalled,
I Loved Trad Jazz & skiffled,
Socialised, lived, cohabited,
Memories are available that I stockpiled,
10-minutes ago memories, get abducted,
The catheter bag gets punctured,
Monthly, the bladder is irrigated,
And I grow evermore irritated,
Why? This ode has illustrated,
My hopes & desires get commandeered,
Dementia Doreen has no threshold!
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Carer Benjamin gI semi-stirred and nodded off several times. I was finally woken up with so much pain by Carer Christopher. The guilty ailments were Cataract Chloe, Back-Pain-Brenda and Littlee Inchies Fungal Lesion. A bit off-putting. It got worse as Chris was doing the medications and getting my socks on; I’m such the paid a few visits. Other than what’s been said, this visit was, or is, a blank for details this morning. Back-Pain-Brenda stayed with me all day long. I wondered if I was having sex in a dream and pulled something? Hahaha!
I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch after Chris had gone and had a painful rinse and wash. BBB was giving me a lot of aggro again.

After running the CCleaner, I continued updating and made extra graphics to use tomorrow before the memory stopped me from saving. It was a clever idea, I thought. Now I wonder why I bothered! After doing them, I continued to put all the imported graphics and photos onto the Sunday blog in error! Then, I found myself even more confused than ever when I saw that I’d saved some for Saturdays and others for Sundays! By the time I had sorted them all out, the computer’s memory would not let me save any more. So, I reran the CCleaner and was satisfied that I had cured the mistake. I was satisfied I’d cured the mistake! Hahaha!
I discovered that I’d cleaned the Sunday graphics and put them on the Saturday page – then cut and pasted them instead of Saturday’s back on the Sunday page. Hang on, there’s more to come… These happened later, but it won’t matter; I’d got everything out of sync now. 
While still in the middle of trying again to get things back in order, the intercom rang. I thought it was the unintended food order arriving – but no! A tenant told me there was a box outside the foyer doors with my address on it. So kind of her. I hastened down in the lift, and the lady met me as the doors opened. She put the box in the lift cage, and I thanked her. I exited the lift and sent the cage down for the lady. Going through the flat lift lobby door, I got myself tangled in the door and floor when I dropped the walking stick and grabbed for the falling parcel! I got indoors and did my best to rub some pain gel on Back-Pain-Brenda. I took an extra Codeine. I was about to investigate the mess I’d made on Corel Draw, and Carer Joanne arrived. As she left, I got set to investigate again…
The intercom rang. This was the food order I didn’t remember making or wanting. 
Another packet of Chestnuts, two cans of water chestnuts, Meet-in-a-jar-Miestwo, fish sticks and black bean sauce.
I put the drinks in junk room three to keep them safe.
I put a few bottles underneath the computer in the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors that had long fallen off.
I took the waste from the wrappings to the waste chute.
No injuries falls, or trapped fingers were encountered; I dropped the walking stick several times.
I returned to the flat and noticed scuff marks near the lift door. I emailed the Low-Cost Food Store to inform them that I would not use their services again. I explained the problem with the food being left outside and my ailments. I haven’t received a reply yet!
The promised rain appeared I took this photo of it when I made something to eat as the evening approached seemingly in haste?.
I decided to take another look at today’s Accidauxpas.
I managed to get the snaps and graphics in the WordPress gallery. But all were out of order, which meant relying on my memory, Hahaha!
The gourmet meal I made for tonight’s feast is on the left.
Two herby cobs with Marmite and some out-of-sell-by-date chips from the freezer. Did them in the air-fryer. They tasted okay to me, well, wellish. So far behind with everything again. I tried to get a good WordPress Reader session, but I was getting so tired so early that it took the shine off. kicked of with venom. As the night approached with and both giving me what for painwise.

I was deep in sleep when Carer Chris came on his last call. He put on the night pouch and the diabetic day socks off, without hardly disturbing me. Bless him. 
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TTFNski each & all!
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