Anoxaparin injections

Inchie Today: Mon/Tue 19/20th October 2026

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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MONDAY 19th OCTOBER 2026
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I was in the midst of my last horrible dream; I was trying to jump from a wooden string-roped bridge into the water below. Not worried about going over at all. But the odd things that kept interrupting and kept me from diving in were endless. Some I recalled the moment that Carer Andrew came in and switched the light on. I tried to stay with the dream, and I don’t think I responded to the lad very well. Well, you wouldn’t when a pink gorilla came from the trees and shouted that he is an Alziemers councillor, and started towards me on the rickety tied-on wooden planks, shaking the bridge all over, and this made me change my mind, and I decided not to jump after all.
I think, well, I’m almost sure that earlier an alien alighted from a dome-topped mini spaceship, laughed at me, calling me a whimp, and tasered me. Climbed back into his tiny ship, turned, put two fingers up, and said, in a squeaky voice, ‘Cheers, Dumbo!’) 
Vague, broken memories of other dreams lingered for a while, and then I realised Andrew had arrived when the light made me jump and forced me into a semi-responsive state. I greeted him, and he didn’t look happy. Why? I wondered if I’d been doing the somniloquy stuff again when he came in. Last week, when Inram did a teatime call, and I’d fallen asleep in the computer chair. He laughed so much when he woke me. He told me that I was talking unintelligible gobbledygook and was using a fair bit of bad language, but laughing as I did so. Of course I didn’t know if I was somniloquying this morning, but I might have been. Young Andrew did not seem too impressed with things. Haha!
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Another horrible day!
British Gas called me; I found out why: Jenny, my Angel, had contacted them. The bloody mobile phone of mine. I so hate it. It doesn’t ring when anyone calls, and I can’t hear voice messages. BG showed 8 missed calls (which grew to 19). And 11 missed calls. Ejaz contacted them, and I had to give my email, name and address. While doing so, the bloody mobile disconnected. TWICE!
Ejaz spoke with them; they said they would have to get back to me in a few days to prove who I was… WHAT?
I began to be frustrated and mega depressed, and didn’t feel very good.
I tried to get some of this blog done, but then the Catheter started flowing back- the pain! So I took a Codeine and Morphine.
Agony, but to make things worse, I then took a mild tumble. Not feeling up to much.
I’ll have to stop here, sorry.
I was already worried about the visit to the Audio Clinic, and getting things sorted as far as I could, but felt even more out-of-it. Then the BG farce, and bloody mobile. At one point, I was on the bloody mobile, and the landline and the intercom rang at the same time. I reckon that helped me take the fall. The sodding intercom wasn’t working again; I had to go down three times to see who it was, and each time no one was there at the foyer door. Now I know I won’t have time to catch up on this blog, a chance I may have to go to A&E with the Catheter problem… the Carer to be asked to help me get dressed. Will the Catheter… Enough!
Might get this a little caught up tomorrow…
Ha! Just remembered I changed the delivery time for the food to between 21 & 22:00hrs, so sleep will be a more urgent need than whatever it was I was going to write, but I’ve forgotten it now. If my bladder backs up, I might ring the District Nurses? I’m fed up. A near-noon photograph from the kitchenette window. Very few photos taken today; I’m afraid they’re scarce, indeed negligible. However, that is due to cock-ups and failures on my behalf, but the main culprit was, without a doubt;
British Gas: oligarchs with the worst complaint record of any of the 20 active domestic energy suppliers supplying the UK! So many indecisive, detail-seeking, and rejecting phone calls made and received today.
There was no time to even start this blog!
In fact, and I’m not joking, it is now nearly midday on Wednesday 21st October, when I started this blog!
To make things worse, it took more time and was, frustratingly, mentally crippling, as Tuesday was as bad as Monday was for time and dwindling finances! I had no time to get any blog done, and with so much short, pathetic sleep, my body forced me to get some on Tuesday. When I was sitting at the computer, I couldn’t get myself mentally together to try to make a start… I did scribble a few notes, forgot to take the camera with me; I was so…
But I’ll get to that later. (I hope)
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British Gas
Here to Solve!
The lying Oligarch, communicatively confusing, 
sourpuss, and AI, off-putting, rigmarole-ridden, sending us around the houses just to reach a human, although I question that at times, awkward, two-faced, off-putting, disconnecting our calls. They give us numbers, direct us to another company that, judging by their pissed-off voices, tells us to keep telling people to ring us, and we have no connection with British Gas! No doubt in reply to a management instruction, in a vain effort to reduce the amount of complaints by making sure we can’t get through, and giving out dates for service maintenance or repairs they have no intention of keeping?  
I suppose you think that I am getting annoyed? Piqued, cross, aggravated, disgruntled, exasperated, irked, irritated, nettled, and upset with British Gas’s lack of honesty, cheating, misrepresentation, equivocation, deception, fabrication, fibbing, falsification, fooling, deceiving, deluding, hoodwinking, conning, tricking, bamboozling- are you? They are the most deceitful, underhanded, deceptive, chicanery-ridden, unscrupulous, devious, artful set of customer (non) service givers I’ve ever known. Bearing in mind, I have suffered similar avoidance & evasion tactics to suit their own measures from Virgin Media and HMG Customs & Excise. (I lost those battles as well).
Having tried all of the above, and failed.
Makes British Gas Customer Service ineptitude far worse (or superior) than that of all the other Oligarchs, guilty parties, and companies put together. 
A company that exists to sort out people’s complaints against power-supplying companies will not help anyone using British Gas for electricity; see below. 
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CEO Chris O’Shea: total pay package £4.73 million
A Genuine letter from British Gas Oligarchs to an elderly customer… Mrs Nightmare is not her name!
I’ve got to stop on this subject.
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Photos taken during the day.
Sweet & sour with egg fried rice.
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Sunset snaps
Last one
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TUESDAY 20th OCTOBER 2026
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DISAPPOINTING DAY
Little was achieved, compounded by the failure at the Audio Clinic, which at first seemed great but left a lingering threat of terrible things, like needing to telephone my Doctor, a challenge much feared nowadays, with the possible result being taxi fares to get my ears de-waxed. My Doctor told me that although she had cleaned the hearing aids, there was still so much wax in them that she expected the Cerumen to block things up again in a few days. 
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PRE-DURING & AFTER THE VISIT
I spent an odd evening and night,
Nodded off in the chair, woke feeling shite,
Just had a seizure, became a somnambulist…
For 4 hours in the chair I’d slept,
Realising, quick as a sulphite,
Twas the end of my sleep tonight,
For tomorrow’s, to Audio Clinic…
The thought got me in a panic,
Things to plan, & with my Attention Deficit,
Details, timing, my brain went bicentric…My mind resisted, went all abulic,
Wanting things to go right, I’m apophenic,
What to take, have I got the schematic?
Painkillers for knees & shoulders rheumatic?
Hospital Transport arranged, ‘ecstatic’!
Trouble is I’m so amnestic,
Expecting today to go all tragicomic,
I think my plans will turn out theoretic,
Lovely people at the Audio Clinic,
Surely, they’ll make me hear better,
Then I can offer them a douceur,
My offer in thanks will be sincere,
A Clinic? To me? More a sacraria.
But today, it was scarrier,
Tell you more later.
Later came Andrew, my Carer,
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The lift arrived from the hospital,
Two drivers, one short, one tall,
Got me there without a fall,
Into the crowded waiting hall,
Cram-packed, space available minimal,
No one spoke, well, said little at all.
As all awaited things audiological,
We got sat down; Andrew did squibble
When I stood up for an amble,
Cather bag was slowly filling,
Been there a long time, I wasn’t caring,
My name was called; we were led in…
Soon she hearing aid mending,
Then my ears investigating,
She said both ears need olive-oiling,
Said do that, twice daily,
She frowned, and said earnestly,
They’re working now, as you can see,
Expect another blockage, & quickly,
You must phone your surgery,
See if they do wax removal…
If not, you must pay for it privately,
Costing £50 an ear is normal,
I agreed, querimoniously,
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Then we left to ring for a taxi,
Then I started to get a little angry,
At the route taken, costing me…
I said, “Where are you going, matey?”
And this taxi cost was mounting,
I’m using GPS; where should I be?
I told him, pensively,
We got home eventually,
It was as much as going to the QMC!
Got up in the flat, Andrew and I,
I wanted, needed a mug of tea.
Thus today did not go satisfactorily.
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Bed, sleep seemed an attractive idea; but no!
I’d rearranged the food orders for late in the day.
The first one at 17/1800hrs, the second for 18/1900.
Carer Mirza called me; always glad when he calls. I planned to get down for 1630hrs to let him in, but I got stuck scribbling notes about the day when the intercom rang. I went down, but no one was there. I thought it was later than it was, and the wardens wouldn’t be able to let him into Winwood Court. I went back up to the flat and found him in there. To my pleasure, they were here because he’d arrived earlier than usual. Good job, too!
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Boiled two large spuds, cut
them in half, and added
some smoked vegan cheese
on top of each slice, and
they tasted Grrreat!
Lip-smacking good!
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First food delivery arrived early
Second one a smidge late
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Done for, fell asleep after washing the pots.
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WEDNESDAY 21st OCTOBER 2026
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Woke up after four hours’ sleep, with the upcoming acid reflux filling my chest, up to my throat, mouth and nasals. I was well disoriented. The Carer came in. I can’t even recall who it was, but I sensed I’d been hurried too much given the state I was in. He kept asking what painkillers I wanted. He then disappeared into the WC for ten minutes. No problem. He departed, and I sorted the bins. I was still not fully compos mentis. But thought things were becoming clearer. Still a bit vague, though. I then put some garden peas in spring water,  some light soy sauce. I plan to add sliced potatoes for later.
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I looked at the Carer’s medication table and instantly thought, “Well, this needs some sorting out!”
But forgot about it when the intercom rang for the fifth time, and I had to shoot down to the lobby to let them in.
No one was there, for the fourth time. When I said shoot, a more appropriate word would be ‘hobble’.
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The mobile battery died. The computer would not start up. Nor would the TV. The intercom failed every call. The kitchen hot tap is dripping. The kettle went bang… but still works? I tried to count of many things I dropped, but lost track; there were so many. Ah, I found a loose page with numbers and details of some of them that I could not find or dropped: Saucepan lid, tea bag pot, pens (3), picker-upper (2), camera, mobile (2), hearing aids, toothache spray, Olive-oil dropper, water bottle (3),
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Carer Raj did the long call visit, hah! I’ll say no more; he’s a big lad, and doesn’t take criticism well.
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I thought this was an Iceland fresh cake, but it turned out to be frozen. Still, it looks like I’ll get some fresh Cream & Lemon store-baked ones from Morrisons next Wednesday. These are for my Angel & her hubby Frank, as a little thank you.
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Afternoon view before the rains poured.
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SWEET DREAMS
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Inchys Horrendous Wednesday 8th January 2025

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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A STAB AT STARMER?
He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral!
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After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised.
When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.

I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on.
Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe!
I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the .
So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony!
Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! 
Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers.
They were becoming a bit itchy, too.
As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.

No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead.
The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.

It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. 
Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!

I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.

Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;

First sighting as I put the kettle on.
Is it a fire or not…
No Fire Brigade response yet.
Still no brigade.
Is it looking worse?
No response.
It’s dying down a bit, I think.

Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.

I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99.
And blow me, the fire was smoking again.
I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there.
I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!

I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website.
Very regrettably, I clicked the link… 

ARGH!
I WAS HACKED!
The computer went to full screen and froze!

The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.

Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’

They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now!
Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! 
As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again!
Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?

I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.

Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.

It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did!
Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with.
I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). 
They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone.   
Then, they went above and beyond…
They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that.
Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. 
The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. 
I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back! 

It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.

It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!

It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before.
Maybe never any.

I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.

A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her. Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.

Good Morning…
Late Carer came.

TTFN

Dhoti Inchy: Tue 24th December 2024

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

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Are you aware of this Starmer? Silly Question!
As if the Pensioner Killer would be interested!
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I’d liked to have been cleverer, astuter,
I was too busy being beaten up, & my tutor!
Then, I may have had a better life’s agenda,
Whatever is the difference between a proton…
(Not the car), and a neutral nucleon,
I think combined, they make a neutron?
Career paths that I did consider…
May I have written a book or been a surgeon?
Been a scientist, physicist or an inventor?
A scholar, maybe even the Prime Minister,
But I’ll soon lose that desire, seeing Starmer!
Remember the 11-plus, I failed that quickly,
Did I blame this on my angiocardiography?
Well, no, I had that 50 years later…
Or on the girls, who made me droolier?
The blonde-midget they used to call me.
I was about as tall as anyone’s knee,
That, I can blame on my descendency,
Uncle Arthur was only 4 foot three,
Auntie Muriel was even shorter than he,
But I grew to mind-blowing 5’3″,
Had humour and agility, also an alienability,
My failing academically drew hostility,
From those in authority, friends and family,
But the sneering stopped one day, abruptly,
I fell into the canal, in which they threw me!
I worked from 1960 until the first redundancy
That arrived when in security in 2003,
Life consisted mainly of failure & discomfiture,
I started in a house that had little furniture,
Now, in my flat with dyspraxia, & dystaxia…
Apnoea, acrasia, apepsia & aprosexia,
Determined to reach a state of ataraxia,
As I eat my meal of chips & Golonkowa…
And think of ways to terminate Starmer!
Well, someone should; he’s a pensioner killer!
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A Messy, getting-nowhere-fast day.
21:00hrs before I started this main blog.
Seizure Sandra has been busier than any other time.
Luckily, at least up to now, they have all been short (but frequent) episodes. DVT Warfarin Angel Hristina called unexpectedly. It is always a welcome, wanted, satisfying experience. ♥ Carer Cloe did the first call. Then, the second, as well, a domestic visit. Carer Sam did the middle call. Carer Christopher just finished the next-to-last call. Well, it gives him something to eat and drink. Hehehe!
With all the breaks throughout the day, I got more confused and blundered about making errors. Then, trying to sort them out the first time. This did not succeed on one of the problems, let alone the dozens I’d made). I’m going to have to rush this one from here on; sorry if any cock-ups are missed. Otherwise, I’ll never get to sleep again and never catch up on the lost head-downs. It makes things more complex with a lack of scribbled notes, and those I made are not fully legible. Here goes.

Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.

ABLUTIONING & MEDICALISATIONING

The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
I got the bowl out to stand in to soak the plates of meat and had to use the WC first.
Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Constipation Conrad was back in charge. But to the disappointment of Harold Haemorrhoids. I made a few slip-ups with the razor in my rush.
The Medicationings were made a mess of. Most of them. The groin area was cleaned a little too enthusiastically. But I stopped the bleeding eventually. Then, stupidly, I did the same on the one ailment that’s the most painful anyway, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. I lost some of the red stuff on this wet room visitation. Plenty of plasters and bandages, though. As I dried off, I felt more blood coming onto my chin. I checked in the shaving mirror and saw that my lips had cracked. They hadn’t been touched or hurt before this. Of course, now my mixed-up Doreen Dementia-owned brain has seen them; they have been irking me all day.

Got the waste bags sorted out.

Made a start on the blogging.

Nurse Hristina arrived, the highlight of the day!
The Carers called one after the other.
I was lost as to what I was going to do next.
Chloe, then Chloe again—bless her for doing the Domestics. She found that many food items in the fridge had one day’s life left, and a couple had to be thrown away. My overflowingly full fridge now looked more on the bare side! The photo taken had dematerialised and was lost in the ether!

The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.

After Carer Christopher called.
I took two shots of sunsetting.

Back on the blog prepping.
I took some snips of Cartoons to use later.
CrelDraw was incredibly slow! Oh, dear!

I pressed on, but it was taking so long. Could I continue? CorelDraw froze, and WordPress seemed to stutter at times.
I keep saying I need help.

Two later snaps of the evening sky.

Not so good.
.

I had to give up.
Tired out and annoyed at things.
I’ll make a meal.
I’ll catch up in the morning. Unless The Grim Reaper calls, but that’s only obvious.
TTFN.
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Nearly midday in the morning. Lots of disaster-mode events kept me from doing this earlier.

Tuesday Continued:
After a decent nosebleed, after I’d stopped to get summat to eat. The tissues burst open the cracks on the lip, stopping the nosebleed and opening them up!
They didn’t pour with blood, but stopping them took me ages! They would start again within minutes whenever I thought I’d stopped them. Humph! 

The intercom rang. I thought it might be an unknown carer, but I could not hear what he was saying.I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.

2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.
I drank a bit of blood when I was eating the meal.
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Blotchy Battered Inchy: Wednesday 4th December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I dreamed I was on stage in an amphitheatre,
Amphitheatre, what’s that? I’ve no idea,
I’ll have to look it up, oh dear!
Greek and Roman Colosseum architecture,
As I was dancing, I burst my ankle’s blister…
I fell off the stage, what a bugger…
Got the thumbs down from Caesar,
As out of a cage came a large gladiator,
I felt the flow from my fast-filling ureta…
Then came a lion, the Christian eater…
Oddly enough, they fought each other,
But I wasn’t yet out of bother,
They told me I’d be eaten by the winner,
I told them, I said I’m a Sun-God sinner…
And I come from the far-distant future,
Anyway, the lion won and ate me for his dinner.
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Another messy day. So far behind, it was (is) Thursday morning. Carer Richard just departed at 08:10hrs, and I just started here updating this blog – as for today (Thur), I might get that blog done by about next November. Assuming I’ve not been sectioned and sent to fearfully scary Old Peoples Home by then. At least now, after signing up to pay for extras on the cCleaner, the computer is letting me save photos for a change. (This changed an hour later, which somehow I anticipated and expected). Gullible, that’s me!
So it’ll have to be a quick job, as more nurses are coming today and another tomorrow. The ‘Scary’ one, tomorrow.
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A scary red in the urine. Graded by the 
care as a seven on the NHS scale.

Misty morning view.

A lengthy, hurtful experience.

The next few hours I spent entertaining unwanted or asked for  . I was getting nowhere fast. Time costing errors galore! was on the rampage. Carers, the nurse, and deliveries ensured that until around 16:00hrs, I was again in La-La land. The computer’s photos permitted entry onto this blog, making up for my lack of reminder notes. Sometimes, I can’t cope with things quickly when I’m dwelling in La-La Lane. On the other hand, sometimes I don’t care or realise it.


My Oder Commeth…
Not a lot.
Cream cakes for ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie. But I couldn’t reach them; they were in a meeting. 
So the Carers got an extra treat instead.
I filled up the bikkie barrel with some of my favourite cookies. LU & Maryland Vegans. Nice!

Then declined to almost none, just the odd short one now and then. (I started again when I got in bed). I gave up on blogging, as I seemed to be going backwards! I spent an inordinately long time preparing the evening’s meal. I cooked some battered chicken lumps in the air fryer and put some sweet & sour sauce, adding some chestnuts and garden peas in the microwave five minutes before the chicken’s cooking times ETA. I put them all in a bowl and washed the pots and air fryer basket. After checking taps, the fryer, microwave and fridge doors were closed, I was working out how best to safely carry the tray of food and walking stick simultaneously, and the Carer arrived. He rushed through the medications and creaming, whipped off the diabetic socks & attached the catheter’s nocturnal bag.
I was going to take a photo of the meal as usual, but I got distracted. Realising this just as I got to the end of my eating spree. Hehehe! 
So I took this belated shot, then whoofed down the bits remaining on the tray. Gorgeous!

Just gone midnight, I wrestled my lumberingly flabby-bellied body into the hospital bed. That being said, sleep took a while to arrive, but it was lovely when it did!
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Keep Safe, and have some funny frolics!

Ignored Inchy: Monday 25th November 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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ODE FROM INCHY
AWAITING THE RETURN OF LOGICALITY
Which I think will not return to me,
Another loss, just like my sanity,
Hoping for improvement shows my inanity,
I prayed pleadingly to the almighty,
I don’t think he heard Inchy, not with certainty,
Then I tried Lucifer to free me from demonry,
But I guess these pleas were more delusionary,
They were for sure rather confusionary…
Sometimes I feel near-contented, jaunty…
Usually, when Odeing, that to me is not petty, 
For some reason, it is a lifegiving essentiality,
Even when the brain mangles my memory,
My computer bars graphics, & photography,
I hate violence, war and the Oligarchy,
I left the hot tap running; I did it twice today!
Suffer many bothersome mini-seizures daily,
With manifestations through my theopathy,
As one ages, words gain a new certainty…
I appreciate words, but not as easily…
Like, anonymity…obscurity, & uncertainty,
Invisibility, inscrutability, & anonymity,
Making decisions is complex, fuzzy, hazy,
Actioning finally taken often shows ethereality,
Making corrections, ridden with inner disunity,
Confusingly, words show a level of banality,
I have to treat specific memories sceptically…
Well, indeed, every memory or action doubtingly,
Look at the world, Putin, Starmer, Trumpery!
Complaining? Me? I’ve not got the temerity,
Although life can sometimes feel so tawdry,
It can be scaring, worrying, and depressingly,
Yet, at this moment, there’s a sign of glee…
I’ve beef in black bean sauce & a mug of tea!
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Reluctantly, I stirred at 02:50hrs.
Fell asleep at 0255hrs.
Unintentionally, I stirred at 03:10hrs.
Fell asleep at 03:15hrs.
Jumped awake at 03:30hrs.
Lat pondering on a dream I’d just had that was not clear enough to recall in detail, but Grizelda was in there somewhere; the pain from the so rare involuntary movement in Little Inchies locality assured me that Grizelda was the topic of the dream. I think it was a pleasant one.
Fell asleep at 0420hrs. Tried to find Grizelda in the ether again. No luck, of course.
I woke with a jump at 04:40hrs.
Fell asleep at 05:45hrs…
I woke again around 06:00hrs and realised I needed to complete the ablutions before a carer arrived.
I carefully dismounted the bed. Little Inchy’s temporary expansion had disappeared, leaving a small amount of blood coming from the catheter tube inserted.

Not for the fainthearted!
I stripped off and put the nightwear in the laundry bag. Got a fresh catheter pouch holder, the slippers, and fresh Protection Pants, etc, ready for after the shower & shave, and medicationing duties were finalised. Took them with me into the wet room.
The first thing was to get my bottom down on the WC. The evacuation was a tacky-sticky, messy one. I did the few teeth I have left, causing, I’m afraid, to kick off. Then, possibly the most farcical event of the day. Having a shave. An everyday event, but not for Inchy. A first-ever here! While shaving, I’m sure I went into a few seizures of over 20 minutes or so. As I had supposedly finished shaving and rinsing off the foam and blood, it dawned on me that I had shaved only half of the face and neck! It’s like I go on auto-pilot… but as with the computer, where I get the majority of the seizures. I keep doing things while ‘under the grip of (sometimes), and I come to semi-awareness to find I’ve made a mess of everything I’ve done. But this is the first time it has happened in the wet room. I assume, anyway. So I had to reshave again. Bringing up the total number of cuts and knicks to a count of five.
: The usual routine was carried out, but the Catheter netting bag was not attached; too much genuflecting is not suitable for and upsets Dizzy Dennis, Arthur Itis, Cartilage Chloe & Carol, Bad-Balance-Barbara, and can trigger Tumble-over- or Trip-over-Trevor. 
, and . then rubbed in the Barrier Cream on Inchy’s-Bouncy-Belly, underneath the arms, on the forehead, lower arms and on the edges, and ,
and checked to make sure there were no more outbreaks of .

Then, I got the eyes and ears medicated. Next, I tackled the typically most painful medical sequences required daily. Little Inchies fungal cream applying!

This was the last job, as usual, in the wet room. Luckily, the pain does not bother me in the slightest bit. I just laugh it off and usually start singing a song or yodelling. Today, it was Frankie Vaughan’s Don’t Stop, Twist’… Argh!

was playing up again. Later, when I got on the computer, I gave the sparse teggies and gums a blast of £599.00 per 100 ml Toothache pain relief spray. Some effervescent paracetamols were added to the Bladder-demanding spring water bottles. I almost forgot to empty the nocturnal pouch. I then realised and stopped myself in time, as the Carer will need to confirm the colour with the NHS colour record chart/card. Carer Chloe arrived later and said it was a match with a classification of a seventh level. Ah, well!

SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME STARTS!
As Carer Richard arrived, so did Sandra. I have no idea if he noticed my condition, and my recollections remain confusing. That’s how bad Sandra’s first attack was. This time, it was not so mini-either. Richard was here for a while, making his last night shift call. Thankfully, the blurriness and confusion had cleared by the time he left. But she gave me many more mini-blanks over the next four or five hours. My beloved DVT Anticoagulation Warfarin nurse, Hristina, arrived. And she could tell the difference in my responses… even if I couldn’t.
My memories are still a little vague, but I’m sure she mentioned me talking to the Doctor about the seizures. Hristina is a lovely gal♥

My other friend, Jenny, called me. After she’d read about the Milk Roll loaf not being delivered, she arrived at the flat with a loaf of bread from her freezer for me. Another Gem! ♥

I struggled with the computer (I still am now, Tuesday p.m.), but despite getting further behind, I am determined to get the photos on the blog. It’s hard work!
Aha, got some from, not many, from earlier in the day.
Unfortunately, only these two above.

SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME RESTARTS!
Little & often. I did give up then. I sat down and tried to get some sleep, catching up. Huh!

The Carer called; I was half asleep after waking up, yet somehow knew I was coming out of another seizure.
Carer Promise took the washing down for me.

Afternoon delights in the sky

Bootiful!

Plenty of vehicles in today.

The last shot was as the sun was on its way down.
Well, it wasn’t the last, but it was the last one the computer would let me save to file today.

TTFNsk!
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Elapsed Inchy: Sunday 17 November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer,
For stealing fuel help from every pensioner,
But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later…
Although it made OAPs £500 poorer…
It got the Unions complaining angrier,
It was businesses that gave him his backhanders!
An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard,
Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted?
Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted…
Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector!
Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember,
They’ll be in a  home or alone, suffering from Dementia,
Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia,
Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia,
Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia,
Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia…
Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,

I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater,
A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler,
I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore!
A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
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A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine
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Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came,
I wanted to blame whatsitsname…
Or maybe even whatsaname, 
I considered blaming whatshername…
But for each one, I was the one to blame.
First one, I was cleaning the windowpane…
Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain,
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame,
Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane!
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Then, I dropped my written username…
I tried bending down again…
Landed on my knees, agony more than pain!
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
But doing so was such a strain,
Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train,
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!

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I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things.
A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.

This morning’s efforts.

Is my urine going darker again?

Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.

Morning all.

Afternoon-teatime views.

It looked like some clouds were going to land.

Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box.
Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!

I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score!
I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water.
Hehehe!

I got an unintentional artistic wobble on.

TTFNski, each.

Iliad Inchy: Saturday 16th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi,
He was not soul-collecting, he called socially,
I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023,
He said he was depressed but very busy,
North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine,  
Available Souls to collect rises again…
Gaza, so many humans getting slain,
Children starving, dying in pain,
There is no world affability or affinity,
Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity,
Politicians without any accountability,
No shortage of greed or ambivalency,
Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy…
Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll,
War children build themselves a bolthole,
Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole,
Free murderers, with a legal loophole,
Killers, murderers given parole, 
We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl,
Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole,
Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal,
Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole!
I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…”
Dying must surely be more peaceful?
Is heaven extraterrestrial?
Was humankind meant to be experimental,
I sense that we are all fossiliseable,
Well, of course, anything is possible…
Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal,
This starts when they are foetal,
Anklesnappers turn into people,
They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical,
Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ,
You see, but you don’t know what to do…
Your hopes for happiness are exhausted,
Your faith in humankind has vegetated…
Your lust for life has withered…
The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated,
Your caring nature has been exploited,
Life itself, you’ve never bested,
Truth is, you are no longer interested…
You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested,
You’ve not changed, but the world has altered,
You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted…
This earth has been maladministered,
Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered!
And pensioners he has murdered…
Yet Starmer remains undeterred,
Wait for him in hell to see him burn!
Then your sense of humour can return!
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Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty  Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my .
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!

Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.

I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away.
The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two.
Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.

Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.

When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.

My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!

I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?

The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.

I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.

Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot, bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!

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TTFN.

Abstinency Inchy: Wednesday 23rd October 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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‘Now look mush’, I uttered…
I know when my bread’s buttered,
No wonder I can see only the one gate,
Because it was hell on earth, mate!
Born to poverty, what a state!
Miserable, I died broke & intestate!
Bad eyesight, cancer pancreate.
Catheter, Peripheral neuropathy,
Mental & physical inadequacy,
Got shot twice, the leg and chest,
Born with nothing, I’ve got most of it left!
I grew floppy, womanlike breasts,
No help at my begging or behest!
Ended up losing loves like Audrey…
Grizelda, Marie, Christine & Suzie,
Am I pissed off? Absobloodylutely!
Send me back again? There’ll be some argie-bargie!
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I’d fallen asleep in the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. The broken, ever-wakening sleep was no worse or better than struggling to get in and out of bed. I must have had ten bad nights on the trot now. Talking of trot, my first aim of the day was to get to the Porcelain Throne ASAP. The rumbling and grumbling started as I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Trotsky Terence won the battle, as he had for eleven days now, but Constipation Conrad was trying a counterattack, and there were some small globules and lumps in the basin. Once again, all the evacuated varieties are composed of almost black and light brown/karki. It was colourful, almost, but messy. I had a body scrub and medicated the areas in need. I didn’t shave, but I may brave it to have one later.
I’d not noticed what the time was when I woke, but after the wet room session, I went to the kitchen to check the taps, etc. and took a photo of the dark, foggy view that was on offer from the kitchen window.  , I knocked the clock mentioned above off of the window ledge. Then I got out the last of the four clocks I bought last year, put a battery in, and set the time right. 04:55hrs. 

I got the computer on and soon regretted doing so. Over the next six hours, I went through torment, botherations, mood swings, and frustrations and ended up in a deep depression. CorelDraw crashed three times! CCleaner failed to enable me to upload photos, so I tried it with the Norton cleaner and had the same results. Zilch success!

During these hours, Carer Shaquille called. Then Carer Kimberley had to do the financial help, which she couldn’t because no one had shown her how, and I didn’t know. I had the joy of Carer Kara doing it all for me for months. But learnt nothing, or couldn’t remember, how to get through to the bank on the website; none of the passwords or numbers were safe in Kara’s mind. She has been moved into the carer’s office. I had to close everything down five times! My failings and inabilities made me feel even worse.

As it got lighter, amidst the computer problems, I gave up on the computer and turned everything off. I made myself a brew of Glengettie tea and ate four large cookies in dunking mode. I took six photographs as I went to wash the mug. Amazingly, the computer let me save the first two. But the other four, which had caught some seagulls flying on them, were not getting saved for some reason. The old photos I was saving had disappeared! I tried renaming the old images first, but that didn’t work either. They still went off into the ether. Saving was difficult enough before this happened! Grrr! I can’t take much more of this.

Yet earlier, when updating yesterday’s blog, it sent everything. I know there were only 4 snaps and graphics, but it seems terribly hit-and-miss since then. More miss that hit!

I got a comment from cyber-mate Tim about me trying a Tablet to solve the computer issues. I felt like a fool, not knowing what one was. Another message with links to suitable types of Tablets on Amazon. I tried them and got this message.

This is a very long-winded bit. Skip it if you like. Again! In the afternoon, after Carer Kimberly had been. She’s going to do her best to get me some help. I was going back on the computer after her visit and heard something drop that obviously I’d knocked off of the end of the c1962 Hopwells sideboard, with the hanging off doors and unclosable drawers; it took me a while to discover that it was my mobile phone. I searched everywhere, looking for it, without finding it, so I assumed it was that it fell. I moved things, boxes, books, etc., searching for it. The only place I’d not looked was underneath the sideboard. I had to search for my wind-up torch, and more time was lost! I could not bend down too far, fearing that Dizzy Dennis would have on my knees. But the frustration of not knowing where it had got to, if it was the phone that made the clunking noise and not something else, meant I’d lost the mobile. I’m making hard work of this for you. Sorry! I bent down a smidge too low with the torch search and lost my balance. Banged down on the knees, which was probably the least damaging fall ever… but one of the most painful, worse than the head wound one. Arthur Itis in the knees, the Cartilage Sister Carol and Chloe really hurt… then I felt even more pain from poor Little Inchie, as the Catheter tubing yanked at him when I tried to move as I tried to get to the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, to attempt to haul myself up.
I then realised I could have used my 1982-model newly found mobile to call for help. The thought of pressing the alarm wristlet button never came into my mind—what a clot!
Then it dawned on me that I didn’t know any numbers!
Aha! I spotted the new landline where Carer Kara had put Meridian Care, Warden Deana, and Sister Janes’ auto numbers for me. I pressed the preset bottom and got ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. Who kindly said she would get some help and come up. ♥
As I waited, I did my best to get my elephantine wobbly body back up on its plates. (Slang for plates-of-meat), Feet!)
But there was little chance that I could, and I couldn’t!
Minutes later, the rescuers arrived. I was in a praying position on my painful knees. They took an arm each from the back and hauled me up. They were here for about two minutes, did a grand job and rushed off. Both were busy ladies.
Thank you! ♥

Carer Israel arrived for the teatime medications.
I was telling him of my Whoopsiefauxpas but stopped when I realised he was writing on his log.

Then back on blog catchup.
Then, on the WordPress Reader.

I was serving the meal and took a shot of the late-evening view from the kitchenette window.
Can you see the ghostlike child in the clouds? Or dog?
The computer let me save these last two photos to WordPress in the morning!

Doesn’t it look horrible?
The Parmentier potatoes were baked in the oven, along with a pot of Polish pork knuckle meat, Milk Roll bread, and tons of strong Branston sauce.
I agree that the meat looks sickeningly repugnant. But the taste, especially the pork jelly, was lovely! 

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May you Receive All That You require & Desire!

Creaky Inchy: Thursday 17th October 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Another crap, waking up all the time all night. I shot awake so often that I believed it was late and forced myself out of bed, emptied the nocturnal catheter bag, and dragged myself miserably to the wet room. A quick clean-up: Cartilage tormentedly got the fresh PPs on and returned to the bed to tidy it up. All the time, I try not to think of the computer hassles and problems. It’s getting to me now! Then I had to go back to the wet room. Cor, what a messy job that was!

Here, depression & frustrations tested my already limited sanity.

I got the computer on, and of course, it was not letting me put photos or graphics on again. I joke not. Carer Chris arrived. I was too responsive. With my fingers crossed, I was using Norton and Ccleaner to make space on the computer. After they were done, I should have closed everything down and rebooted for the changes to take effect. I was trying to concentrate on what I’d done and what needed doing. Carer Chris took the laundry down for me on his way out, and I returned to the in-progress cock-up I was unknowingly in the middle of. I could not recall the things I’d done and not done. So, I had to close everything down, give it a minute, and then restart the whole kit & caboodle. Naturally, it would still not let me save any graphics or photographs to file or on WordPress!
I had to start the minimising and cleaning the memory all over again. It’s not as if I knew what I was doing; I winged it and prayed, knowing it would do the same thing again as I used more memory. Thunderclap?Turds!
To my amazement, it allowed me to get work on the blog!
As if I didn’t know this would happen, I tried to rush the job while the memory was available. I made so many errors I think I ended up using more memory!
Then I noticed the time on the clock was 09:00hrs! It had taken me hours to get things going! Grumble-Grunts!

I got these taken earlier shots of the few from the kitchen.

Then, as I was about to put the balcony shot of the end car park on, showing a resident cleaning his car, the card reader stopped working on me!
It took me about half an hour to get it to work. It was all a matter of blind faith, hope, and keeping my fingers crossed, jobbie.
All I did was push the connections in firmly. Nope! I took the SD card out and made sure the tab was in the read position. Nope! I disconnected the reader again and cleaned where I could get at it; nope! I shook it a bit. I was in a semi-panic-desperation mode then!
I took a break to think things through and see if I could figure out if I had done something wrong. I went into the kitchen and took some more sky shots, then back to the computer and inserted the SD card once more into the reader. And it loaded straight away? Phew!
Then, I had time to appreciate the incredible cloud formations I snapped.

I received a letter from the bank. I didn’t open it; I was ashamedly too scared to.
The photo refusing started again!
I keep thinking I can’t mentally get any lower than I am, any more depressed. But, this has proven to be untrue.

Carer Sham obliged with the midday call. I must have gotten up this morning around 05:00 hrs. Then I remembered taking a photo of the ancient clock using the other camera. I got the SD card, and it went through. The clock depicted 04:30 hrs when I pressed the day and date buttons. I realised I struggled with the computer’s memory for around five hours or more! Taking an hour of for the ablutionings and pant changes. Huh!

I keep hearing the gentleman in the flat above. He is an image of me, I think. Today, he is regularly dropping what sounds like his walking stick. I’m not bothered about this; after all, I keep doing it myself to the poor Mary in the flat below.

I’m depressed and am going to get a meal of some sort sorted. I got the oven, warming up and a tin of peas in the saucepan, then took some bread out of the freezer.
Now, I will at last get onto the WordPress reader. Some cracking poetry and photographs on today!

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TTFNski!

Inattentive Inchy: Friday 11th October 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I put this used photo online once the computer allowed me to, not to scare or shock you but rather to let you know how I felt the second I woke up this morning. For I had been dreaming a dream, dreamed like never before! Well, not for years now! 
In this wonderful, enthralling (to me) morning, the catheter was no longer attached! Griselda was on top of me, as she used to be long ago, and activities of the pleasure-making kind were taking place. Gawd, was I happy, and I honestly thought it was real and happening! But it wasn’t, of course, only in my demented but Oh-so-contented mind. Realisation returned as pain from the previously unused for yonks (Little Inchie) area that had grown in the dream. I think the catheter tube had been yanked at in the dream and partially dislodged. I soon felt and saw the blood. For some unknown reason, the night catheter bag was under my bed, somehow wrapped through the fall bars and on the floor, and still attached to the day catheter pouch. The day bag had been pulled down near my ankle, and the pain level increased as the situation dawned on me. Thus ended the moment of joy enjoyed as I woke up. 
Then, I felt embarrassed at pressing the wrist alarm, for I feared things were worse than they initially appeared. A nurse arrived within fifteen minutes. Then, just to make my sense of ignominy that bit worse, a second nurse arrived!
Mortification and Discombobulation Modes Developed! Explaining my plight to the ladies made me red-faced. However, they sorted things out for me within about five minutes. And the flat rang out with open laughter from the nurses and even me! This was because I could not resist telling them what had happened to cause my dilemma and the pickle I was in!
They cleaned me up and checked that everything was honky-dory. And it was. They stopped the bleeding in no time. Then, they removed the night bag and put in a new day bag for me. They laughed so much at one point that I thought they might have made themselves poorly. Hehehe! I bet this visit will be mentioned a few times when they return to the nurses’ HQ. They put some ointment on Little Inchies fungal lesion for me before reinserting the tube. Bless them. ♥ I suppose all this did happen and was not part of the convoluted morningmare, nightmare or dream? Haha!

The computer has been naughty all day. I’ve received memory shortage notices, and it’s not allowing me to upload photos. I may have to leave some of the few I’ve taken off the blog. And CorelDraw has been so stuttering that I’ve spent more time waiting for it to carry out keyed-in instructions than making the graphics. Grr!

I managed to do a little of my pareidoliaing of the sky and clouds this afternoon. The clear blue sky with some little puffer clouds just above the horizon was taken to the left of the kitchenette window.
Similar to the second to the right. Note I caught some of the balconies in this shot.
On this one, to the left higher up, I can see so many things in the clouds. Do they seem to be gathering together to do the Conga? Haha!
This high-up shot reveals a face, baby cloud faces, and an exhaust pipe. Well, it does to me. I bet you can see things I didn’t. Bootiful!
Then, there is a snap of the bottom field below the tree copse, with the local houses looking as pretty as a picture.

Not a lot today, so much time lost.

I’m unsure when I had this meal; it may have been yesterday. I found it amongst the shots that the computer would not let me use, and it did! But not the others. It’s late evening now. I’m going to try to take some sky photos that might please the computer’s fussiness.
Flipping ‘eck, they went on,
from window natural distance.

Zoomed in a little more for the second photo.

The closer for the third effort.
Do you notice the colouring in these shots? According to the Nottingham News, the Northern Lights can be seen tonight. I’ll take another one later. I had better get my black bean soup, red onions, chicken thigh, and chicken sausages in the pan to warm up.

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I may have made a cock-up here. I seem to think I’ve used the one above before… Oh, dearie me!

Food warming up now.
I’ll try another photo to see if the lights in the sky have changed. Well, yes, they have, haven’t they, not much!

Time to get the fodder served up now.
Black bean sauce, veggie sausages, mock-chicken chicken, sliced red onions, a dash of liquid smoke, and Warburton’s Milk Roll sliced bread. The only disappointment was that I could not open the tin of water chestnuts because it had no ring pull attached to the can. I tried the two can openers, but I cannot grip the roller well enough to turn it on. Sad, innit?
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Go forth forever, having fun & festivity,
Contentment, be counter-inflationary,
You can defy the devil defiantly,
With expediency, & exuberancy,
Life pans out pragmatically…
And you avoid pecuniosity!
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