Depression

Injected Inchy: Tuesday 5th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

No electricity bills – it’s been cut off! Now, can everyone stop labelling me a crook, pensioner-pincher?

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I learnt today that my DNA was adenoviral…
Dying neurotransmitters made it aetiological…
To my brain, this was not logical…
It sounded pretty comical,
Most of my problems are neurological,
But this ailment may be attenuable…
That was a shock, unbelievable!
Me? Get an ailment that’s treatable?
Possibly, maybe perhaps, even curable!
The hope is to make this abrogable,
I thought this test result may be apocryphal,
He said it could be operationable…
There’s a chance your heart may go asystole,
“That’ll be fine; it’ll save me buying a pistol!”
He frowned & said; Are you suicidal?
“No, it was a joke, I was being risible!
He laughed, saying, “Haha, some people!”
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Continued from Monday:

The first visit to the WC was a Constipation Conrad torpedo of mammoth proportions, which pleased me, given the upcoming medical visits later today. There is less chance of embarrassment from any leaks.

I got on the computer to finish Monday’s blog. Then, most surprisingly, I was summoned to the porcelain Throne again. I was even more amazed at Trotsky Terence in control again! Which made me feel a fool for mentioning how pleased I was with Constipation Conrad. Now, I think the opposite. Coping with the bloody catheter is bad enough, especially with having to wear trousers again, the first time in months. I regained the worry over any leaks from the catheter or it filling up while I was out; now I fear things may escape from the rear end!
I pressed on with starting this blog. And half an hour into the job – unbloody-believable!
This third visit was messy and ultra-gooey in the extreme! It’s a good job that I have plenty of toilet paper and air freshener to hand in the wet room. Now, I worry about the bus journeys to and from the medics. Can I avoid any getting on and off of the bus? Will there be any waiting for what is needed? That will give it more time to leak or burst on the bus or during surgery. And walking is not an option anymore. That would take me an hour each way and almost guarantee an on the trips to and from Sherwood. It turned out to be a lot longer.

Stopping here, wait for the caregiver, put on socks, take medications, and then do the ablutions. Then, sort out what is needed for the trip and leave before midday for the surgery: bus pass, collapsable walking stick, Medical card, appointment card, and log book. Empty the catheter bag, wear new PPs, and wear trousers. Oh, and hearing aids and put on long-distance spectacles.+ Keys. 

It’s all a challenge that no one should have to go through. But, with no one to help, I must sort it out myself.
Life can be a @?*⇓⊗! No! Life is a @?*⇓⊗!.

Care Christopher arrived and put on my socks. He also took the laundry bag at my request. I haven’t received it yet, but it’s only been 25 hours so far. Oh, I get them back. 

Care Sam came later. She could see the state I was in with my nerves. She kindly helped me get the things together for the journey-to-hell send-back. (Well, it was a struggle, as I hope you will read about later.) Sam kindly walked me to the bus stop, which was kind of her. When leaving the flat, she returned to get my hat, which I had forgotten to put on. But, waiting for the bus, I remembered the last time I went on one and fell getting onto the bus, and then off of it!

I chickened out and walked down Winchester Street Hill into Sherwood, carefully and slowly. The famously cracked pavements were now covered with leaves in sheltered areas, and it was difficult to manoeuvre the three-wheeled-walker when hitting leaf-covered potholes. No falls yet. I reached the bottom of Winchester Street and went up Mansfield Road to the supposedly arranged flu jab at the top chemist. On the way up the hill, I called in the Co-op and got some food. As I walked up towards the chemist, the atmosphere was bleak. Nine people on that short stretch of the incline sat in closed shop doorways with the traditional pot of coffee, begging and giving out depressing stares that could melt you if you looked back at them. Poor devils or con men?
I plodded up the hill to the chemists, taking my time so I wasn’t too early for the flu jab appointment.
Whoopsiedangleplop. The lady said I was not booked for a jab, and anyway, the lady who does them is not in on Tuesdays. I explained that my caregiver had rung to make the appointment, but she may have made it at a different chemist. I might not have explained which one very carefully. I think I was in a mini-seizure when she made the calls. She recommended I try the bottom chemist, a quarter of a mile down the hill and almost up the high point on the right. So I began the long trek down and up Mansfield Road to the second chemist to investigate. I got so far down and remembered there was a chemist to the north that the Carer might have booked me in with. Turned around, passing the Co-op and first chemist back up the hill and down to the Daybrook Chemist. I was feeling knackered by then! Got there. So, back up the Mansfield Road Hill to Sherwood, down through Sherwood to the chemist.
Nope, I wasn’t booked in with him either.
He rang other chemists without any luck. But Carrington Chemist could do me now and give me the COVID-19 jab.
It was another dangerous trip over the hill and down into Carrington. Before crossing any roads, the pavements and high steps on that route need working out.
Finally, I got there and was told they would not start the injections for 20 minutes. ‘Take a seat’; I was told in a way that dared not take one. So, I sat down, knowing the agony I’d be in when standing up again from Cartilages Chloe & Carole! With all the walking and hobbling, fighting to keep three-wheeled-walker-wally from tipping over, that I’d done.
I was first in the queue, though. I got into the treatment room. The lady said she could not give me the DVT procedure but did give me the COVID and Flu jabs. An assistant stopped me on my way out. She had some Prescriptions that I could take with me. Which, hopefully, will mean Carer Richard will not have to fetch them for me this week. I must remember to tell the Carers later on about this.

Then, the long slog back up the Mansfield Road hill and down into Sherwood began.
I crossed the road to return on that side, thinking the pavements might be easier to navigate. They weren’t.
I pressed on steadily and carefully.
I did not experience arm pain, but there were plenty from the Cartilages. The arm aches started when I got into the flat.
I called into the continental shop and got some food. Then, I finally reached the bottom of Winchester Street. I have no idea of the bus timings nowadays, so I hastened… Haha! And hobbled up Winchester to the bus stop.
Luckily a bus was due in six minutes.
I stood up on the bus. I didn’t want to start Chloe and Carole off again. The arms were twinging a little now, not as bad as later on, and in the morning, Wow!

Gt in the flats, said hello to Warden Julie as I passed, and up to the flat. Food & sleep, I’m sure, were primarily on my mind.
And boy, after eating, (I took a snap of the meal as I recall, and the batteries ran out in Kodak Tim. Did I sleep? Yep! I slept for about 14 hours!

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INCHY’S PAINFUL INSPIRATION

I was so chuffed with my handling all of the confusion,
Although, at times, it seemed like a hallucination,
Sorting the chemistas out crippled my bunion!
I felt like I’d walked to and back from Euston!
It was painful to free myself from inaction,
I suffered incapacitation but had an incarnation.
Despite the pain from the Covid and Flu injections,
And having to face averbal inquisition,
I say this with no doubts but justification…

I believe this should/could be achievable…
Twice a week, if the weather is allowable…
I’ll take a walk around the flats, well, a hobble!
It may be stopped by Bunion Baz or Cartilage Carol,
Inchies, Fungal lesion, Diabetes, things Peripheral,
Seizures Sandra,  Sham’s Shocks electrical,
No problem, I can always reschedule!
The hobble will naturally start off ephemeral…
If this goes well, and my body is permissible,
Although these plans sound frangible…
My new power may make them possible!

But I’ve no desire to walk so far ever again!

TTFN

Idle not Idol Inchy: Sun 3 Nov 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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A day of struggling with my memory…
My concentration was kept in custody,
Gladys Glaucoma ensured my sight was misty,
The computer seemed friendlier to me, alackaday…
Well, in the early morning, anyway,
Pain on & off all day from Catheter Cathy,
Guess who was back? Toothache Tiffany!
Earache Erasmus also bothered me!
The mini-seizures got carried away…
So, the blog contents read scarcely.
I’ll catch up with it one day…
I’d better get on with it without delay…
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Nocturnal pouch today.

Morning views.

Tea!

Carers Ali, Kimberly & Richard
Kimberly

Afternoon Views
Seasonal colour changes.
Mother Nature!

Last Week’s Health Check Log
Managed to get it in on Monday.

Potatoes, tomatoes & beef.
Used the air-fryer for these.
No cooker/stove; it’s kyboshed!
Not too bad.
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TTFNski!

Inchy Today: Saturday 2nd November 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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He should have put ‘one word to describe this ode.’ Tsk!
Someone entered my flat, saying he was an alien…
I thought, surely this is an aberration?
I said you look like an Abyssinian,
He replied; The universe is my dominion…
I quipped, our leader lives in London…
Did you misjudge your landing?
He didn’t act like an authoritarian,
“I’m the Universal disciplinarian!…
To speak with you, cause of your acumen”,
I can’t cope with decisioning or botheration…
I have arithmaphobia, & am mentally broken!
But on the internet, you always log on!
Well, yes, Sir, I’ve put myself up for adoption,
Sir? Just address me as Zon,
Is that your name, Son?
No, it’s Starmer-The Holy-One…
Jesus, I’m worried about mankind’s preservation,
Well, you didn’t help the Indians on the reservation!
And what about the Jews and the Ukrainians?
Mankind evolved during experiments on plankton,
To the heavens, they are now an abomination,
So what can I do, Zon? 
You are the new chosen one!
How did I get in the line of succession?…
No, I’m too old, ready for heaven…
Zon faded into the ether, saying Untermenschen!
The alarm woke me up just before seven…
Well, that dream was full of diversification!
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I’m not joking; I scribbled this ode while having a Seizure.
Now, can I get help from a neurologist doctor? Hehe!
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The Prime Minister wrote on X: “Congratulations, Kemi Badenoch, on becoming the Conservative Party’s new leader. The first black leader of a Westminster party is a proud moment for our country. I look forward to working with you and your party in the interests of the British people.” (Not pensioners, of course)
Reading Starmers’ false-hearted comments, I felt nauseated.
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Computer Cock-ups Galore.
Repeated Seizures had me seething.
Stuttering-Stephanie made communications silly!
Computer farce with saving the photos!
The hot water tap was left running cold again!
Iceland Delivery came.
CorelDraw is going so slow that I’m concerned.
Another rush job to get this blog done.
Carer Joanne is feeling better – Hurrah! Goood News…

Frighteningly dark urine in the nocturnal bag!.

Another bit of good and bad news.
Good: The new wire washing sheets work wonders on the hobs of the cooker cleaning.
Bad: I need a new cooker!,

The Iceland delivery arrived.

I took this snap of the carrier bags in my super-massive hallway (Hehe!) I could see some objects formed by the bags. Can you see anything in there?
Pareidoliaer wise?

Got the fridge filled a bit now.

The Pukka pies are a new product.
Made to be cooked in the microwave.
That’ll do me with the cooker now
kaputt and deceased.

Carer Chris did the first call.

Before starting the blog, I popped into the balcony to see if anything would be worth photoing and was greeted with
Seagull poo down the glass! Humph!

The seizures, although no long ones today, were coming to regularly for my liking. It may not be the case, but I felt I took much longer to overcome each one.
The doctor did say things would only get worse.

A great choice was in the fridge if I fancied a sarnie to nibble on yeast extract, Asda, and Vegemite. They are also good as flavouring in some meals, the ones I used to make using the oven that I can no longer do due to the demise of the oven. I’ve only had it for… Ah, yes. I think it was 2008 when I bought it. I can’t get another one until the funds build up. But, I’ve got the microwave and a diddy air-fryer, so I’ll be able to cope with my usual aplomb and calm, capably copeable manner as I do with these things.

When Carer Joanne came in, I chirped tremendously. After I asked her how she felt, she said she felt much better today. Great!

At least there was no rushing to get to the Porcelain Throne in time and being late this time. I did hit my shoulder on the doorframe, entering the wet room. I never used to do this when I had a cataract problem. This Glaucoma Gladys ailment must be worse than the cataract? But, they tell me it will be treated with a laser, in the same way, but it will take a lot longer, and I’ll have to take someone, relative, friend or caregiver with me to have the procedure at the hospital. No relative or friend to help, so a costly carer is the option. But the hospital has to write in the appointment that I ‘Have’ to bring a carer with me, and not just say they advise me to get one.

When I had the cataract done, they struggled to get cover for someone to come with me. The carer who came could not stay waiting for me and left. But she was very kind and left me notes with a nurse on what I had to do when I got home. I’d got a lift that day with Easy-Link. I think the young lady carer was either finishing a shift before coming with me or had a chance to start. Nice gal. She did her best, thank you gal.
I waffled again there! I’m a rare but good waffler when I get someone to listen to me. Haha!

Much to my surprise, the computer, which had been a bugger for not letting me save things, allowed me to save last night’s sunset views that I tried and failed to go two or three times yesterday. YeeHaa! Not a bad selection. Then, it was back once again to visit the .
I needed to rush a little more this time, and I’m so glad I did!
It was a close call, but I can cope with them after having three ‘got-there-too-late events over the week.
A bit of a worry was discovered on this visit.
was oozing blood a smidge worryingly. I had to change the protective pants; they were stained a lot.
I’ll have to check this more regularly. It’s never bled so much before. Well, having said that, it has been worse, but that was when I fell off the bus at the bottom of Winchester Street and got myself tangled up in my own walker. I can remember how some kind of people came to my rescue. One lady said how pale I looked, I said I was on my way to the dentist and she walked me up to the surgery. Such a kind, appreciated gesture. ♥
I could not believe it myself, but as I came out of the dentist and got to the bus shelter, a bus came straight away, and I tripped getting onto the bus. That was a while ago, but the memory is still evident.

I tried again to get more Bookmarks on the bar. But started again, some, most, only latest for seconds. It destroyed what bit of concentration & confidence I had. It was getting late, and I gave up.

The meal was not really a meal. I felt so drained, too much to start cooking, especially with the microwave I’m not used to using. So I made two ready-sliced baps, sliced tomatoes, sea salt, and Marmite. I had a bag of Frazzles with it, and I sat down to watch some football on the TV. 
Do you know, I really enjoyed it! I had it on a paper plate, so there was no washing up to do. Hahaha!

About ten minutes into the game, I drifted off into Sweet Abvilion. Zzz! I woke up with the usual jerking neck, what seemed like every other ten minutes. I gave up on the TV as well. I sorted the night pouch and struggled into the bed, where I just carried on nodding and waking up for the next four hours. Then I gave up on that, too.

I finished this in the late morning.
I was still coughing & yawning!
The fungal lesion had blood pouring…
Which wasn’t too assuring…
My mind was busy bolixing!
So, please do your best to get some relaxing,
And get some extra rest in, 
The last tip I am offering…
Carrots help your brain in calibrating!

 
TTFNski!

Egressing Inchy: Friday 1st November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I think there must be someone high up there,
Who decided who would or would not have hair,
A sort of overlord, Tsar or Universal Emporer,
Who decided what would be unfair or fair…
Created humankind, including Pol Pot & Hitler,
Mugabe, Stalin, Putin, so many experts in tyranny,
Giving his creations free will was undoubtedly silly.
National leaders full of thimbleriggery,
Thus, we have wars, dictators and seigniory,
Nations ruled discretely by the oligarchy,
Dominated in the name of greed, sinfully,
I see the end of Earthlings… undoubtedly, 
Did he/she mean to create humankind’s ubiquity?
Was he/she mistaken in giving us free will? Maybe!
Why bother at all? Was it experimentally?
A challenge from the boss of the next galaxy?
Was Earth ever meant to be cruelly umpty?
Should it have been mankind-free?
If accurate, Adam & Eve are the ones guilty!
I was going to muse over Starmer, you see…
But I’ve got to go for another urinoscopy,
Not that I’ll ever again manually pee!
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So far behind. Going to be a cut-short version.

Morning views.

Ablutions carried out. 3 tiny cuts shaving. Little Inchie fungal lesion bleeding. Shaking Shoulder Shirley throughout the session. Porcelain Throne painful, bloody and yet messy as well? Beats me!

08:45: The caregiver arrived. He had been delayed somewhere and was in a rush to catch up. I forgot to ask him to put on the diabetic socks for me. I’m blooming cold! Hehe!

Computer on. Update from Windows, update from WordPress and update from CorelDraw.

The browser froze again.

I still hadn’t got the browser available. Carer Joanne did the midday call. (I gave her a gentle hug and a kiss) Joanne put on the new socks for me—bless her. THe hospital kept her in on her visit. The test showed various levels tested for to be too high or low. (Catheter-needing problems, so painful). Gladly, she is out again, obviously. Super news! XXX

I’m assuming here cause the timings etc., could well be all too cocked up, as I spent so long getting the computer to restart and work, I did not make any notes on the reminder pad.

Took these close-ups of the local residences.

The Browser played up again, and an update took a long time. So, I took some more Kodak photos.

The DVT Nurse Hristina rang. I think she said that she would be calling on Monday around 08:00hrs. The reason for my uncertainty is that a mammoth seizure, the longest I’ve ever had, came over me after I put the phone down.
When things clicked back in with me, I’d been working on the computer and making a hash of it. It took me hours to make things right. Then when I went on CorelDraw, I found I’d done the same there. I’d also saved some photos, not many, but they were saved all over the place, and again, a lot of time was lost searching for them to use, as the computer had stopped allowing me to save again. That needed me to use the Ccleaner; by the time I got the long-winded procedure over with, I’d forgotten where I was before!
Depressions Dawned!

These seizures are a fantastic thing to understand. They can come on for seconds without me even realising, or like this one did, for hours. I merrily press on, no idea what I’m doing or have done. A sort of… erm, I’m not sure how to describe it.
If the telephone rings, the door chimes, or anyone comes in the room, I’m instantly back in the running, aware, almost alert. But this is often reversed when I find the things I’d been doing that I’d forgotten about. One such instance today was when Chris left after the evening call. I found a paper dish with crumbs in it, and it was warm on the side of the sink. I must have heated it up in the microwave and eaten it; no food was in the bin. This morning, I realised the cornish pastie was not in the fridge… it must have been in my tummy? Hahaha!
This may be why I often go to the fridge to get something and find it is not there? Worralife!
I assume it could be linked to or spurred on by FND. Neuropathic Myoclonus: (sudden, brief involuntary twitching or jerking of a muscle or group of muscles. The twitching cannot be stopped or controlled by the person experiencing it.

All these are linked to Peripheral Neuropathy, which itself is caused by one’s Neurotransmitter’s dying. This causes problems for the brain to read the messages being sent to it, and often, the brain gets confused and responds with the wrong responses.

It’s challenging to master cooking in a microwave.

TTFNski, Each.

Dithery Inchy: Thursday 31 October 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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INCHY’S POLITICAL ODE
HMG stuttering and Starmering,
Bad manners seem to be amplifying,
Murders, knifings, people dying,
Pensioners, children, starving,
HMG is uncaring, but angering,
Involved with lying backhanding,
No chance of the gloom alleviating,
They’ve done nowt worth applauding,
Their compassion needs reactivating,
HMG’s good at pensioner annihilating,
Accepting freebies, their wallets filling,
If Nye Bevan is looking down from heaven,
He was Labour’s best; what’s he thinking?
Of new Labour’s cabinet bickering? 
Of their huffing, lying, cheating?
Most of them have bank balances bulging,
The Tories, after their election thwacking,
Not admitting the defeat was embarrassing?
With Labour split and arguing,
The future for the UK is spine-chilling.
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I only got 4 – in 20 minutes!
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This blog was not started until late last night.
More power failures. Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, perhaps the busiest day of the week… so far. The mini-seizures came in floods that lasted from a minute to fifteen. With a decent break in between. Of course, the power cuts lost me work done each time. And the biggest cock-up was my fault.

After a power cut and signing in everywhere again, I was getting caught up again and had this idea to remove some of the bookmarks I no longer use so that more of what I use can be seen. Ahem! I lost the lot! Try as I did, I could not get them back. I searched for how to make a restore point; that was before I made the cock-up. It seemed relatively followable, even for a Dumbo like me. It wasn’t!
A) Op[en Control Panel – So I did.
B) Open Recovery
C) Open System Restore. – So I did.
D) Select Next – So I did.
E) Choose Restore Point. – So I did.
Then another window opened, telling me I didn’t have a restore point to change!
F) Scan for affected programmes.
No idea what that would do, so I started the procedure again.
A) Open Control Panel – So I did.
B) Open Recovery
C) Open System Restore. – So I did.
D) Select Next – So I did.
E) Choose Restore Point. – So I did.
Then another window opened, telling me I didn’t have a restore point to change!
F) Scan for affected programmes.
So I never got as far as the other instructions, which were.
G) Choose restore point – It wouldn’t let me.
H) Select finish – It wouldn’t let me.
I) Click ‘Yes’ to restart.

I suppose my being digitally illiterate, non-tech-savvy, technologically challenged, Technology-averse, computer-inept, thick as two planks, technophobic, electronically apprehensive, and Glaucoma Gladys may have contributed to the resulting frailness of my attempted solving of the issue.
I put the ones I could remember on the bar, one at a time. It cost me two hours! So bear with me; I might get this done for you by Christmas. Hahaha! Still, in the morning (this morning), the computer allowed me to upload a greater percentage of photos and graphics onto WordPress until the Computer… well, the browser crashed!

Such a lot happened, but it’s all a jumble. Still, I did write some barely readable scribbled notes on the memory pad to use, but I’ll have to be quick. Please forgive any errors… well, I mean the errors. Although they didn’t all get on, photos can help me chronologically.

Had I known or even had an inkling of how the day would go, I’d not have bothered getting up in the first place!
As I write this on October 1st, I wonder what happened in history on this date. I’ll have a look.

Today in History

1993 Maastricht Treaty came into force. That created a common currency, the Euro, for European Union countries came into force

1955 United Airlines Flight 629 blows up over Colorado; A bomb hidden in checked luggage of United Airlines Flight 629 exploded over Longmont, Colorado, killing all 44 people on board.

1952: The first giant hydrogen bomb was tested by the U.S. On the Eniwetrok atoll.

1911 First bomb dropped from an aircraft: Before this, bombs were dropped using unmanned balloons. The first bomb launched from an aeroplane was used by the Italians in the Italo-Turkish War.

1957: Inchy got his first part-time job.
As a gas streetlamp lighter & snuffer.

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The nocturnal bag was removed and emptied.

The first sky photos were taken at about 05:00hrs.

Constipation Conrad was clearly clinging to control of the evacuation… well, non-evacuation!
Several false alarms throughout the busy day. Finally, I had a passing, but not until 23:00hrs!
Got the stand-up wash & shave done (3 teeny-weeny cuts). Carer Christopher came calling. I asked him to show me how to reset the power box, as I was sure I’d need to.

Jenny called to see if I’d had any more power losses. I told her about last night’s. She will speak to the Wardens about it. Window Cleaner Joe arrived, flashed through the job, and was off. He’s a good lad, and he likes lighting and cleaning windows. You’d be lost without him doing it.

I finally got on the computer, but not for long. The electricity gave up the ghost one more time. I rang Jenny, who again called Deana. I went hopefully to the wet room, and there was no activity again.

ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, Primo Ballerina, Deana, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie came in. They got the lights back on and investigated the cause of the failures, asking me to recall exactly what I was doing each time the electricity went off. Did they really expect me… Me, to remember? Hehe!
They deemed that the kettle was the bother, and Deana got the new kettle off of the top cupboard for me, took it out of the box, and tried boiling some water. There was no cut-outs. Thus they thought the problem was solved. It was the old kettle causing the blackouts. Later in the day, at about the same time as it did yesterday, at about 19:00hrs, I think, I turned on the hob… total darkness dawned! But no problem as I anticipated this, and I had the mobile phone and wind-up torch in my dressing gown pockets.

(Smug-Mode-Considered).

I phoned Jenny to let her know, but I didn’t want her to come up again. I put Christopher (on his evening call) on the mobile, as Jenny wanted to speak to him.

Jenny is so good to me. ♥

The photos and graphics were saved again. Yehaa!
This one I took earlier. Two of the three pairs of slippers I have. Excessive, you think? Not for an old fart with a that gets more leaks than a leek farmer! I reckon the slippers (left-foot ones) have been filled with leaking urine from the dodgy closure click so many times; it’s becoming almost expected nowadays. The shaggy brown ones once, the Tartan ones three times, and the ribbed brown ones twice! Do you think the Doctor will give me a prescription for some new ones?

Am I Lucky or What? I checked on the delivery of the steel cleaning cloths. I bought them to clean the cooker hob that had been messed up when I left a pan on the light and fell asleep. Of course, there was no rush for them now, as a new cooker would be needed and the old one would be too dangerous to use. No oven chips, roast potatoes, cheesy baked potatoes, Chilli, or bacon… I’m upsetting myself now. Just the microwave to use. Not enough room to fill the holes in my teeth, let alone make a meal! Not the same, is it?
Depressed? Me? What? Yes!

.
I gave up on the computer. Heaven knows when I’ll finish this blog, let alone start tomorrow!
I lurked around the hallway and opened the wet room door to hear the anticipated intercom when the delivery driver pressed the bell to open the door. But it didn’t happen.
I booted the computer again to check the Amazon site. It told me my parcel had been delivered and put through my letterbox! I went to the door to investigate. Nope, nothing there. I thought they may have dropped it in the lobby, which frequently happens. I went down to the front lobby but could not see anything there. I could go through the door into the outer lobby, as I had not got the keys and fob to get back in. But I could not see any parcels outside; it was pitch black anyway, so if the van was there or not, I didn’t know.
I returned to the twelfth floor and into the flat and tried to contact Amazon. Have you ever had to do that?
There’s more chance of Killer Starmer giving back the Winter Fuel Payment he stole from the pensioners than of getting through to talk to someone at Amazon. I made good progress despite not getting through all the way. I got to someone called something like a delivery organiser and clicked on a link to go to a supply organiser. Another link clicked to someone else, and I got a message back. If the problem has not been resolved within 24 hours, you can contact us again.
Huh, Thanks!

I was digesting this cunning message and admiring how cleverly they avoided anyone voicing opposition to Amazon’s inability to control things. Then the door chime chimed out. I thought this might be the delivery!
It was, being delivered to me by another tenant, who had got the same messages about his parcel, and of course, there was nothing in his letterbox either. He’d been down to the lobby and found his and my parcels in the unprotected outer lobby! And he’d kindly bring them up and drop mine off for me. We were disgusted and showed our feelings about Amazon, which included a few mild verbal rantings.

Depressed? Me? What? Yes!

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Ah, I missed the changed cake!
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I made the very belated meal using the microwave.
A ready-made meal. Beef in black bean sauce.
I added some extra-cooked beef, red onions, more black bean sauce from a jar, oregano, and liquid smoke. I mixed it up in the only microwave bowl I had and cooked it for six minutes on the high-level rating. Delish!
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Depressed? Me? What? Yes!
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TTFN

Colicky Inchy: Tuesday 29th October 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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It seems I have got poikilothermia…
I can’t regulate my body temperature?
No problems with my haemadynamometer,
SYS 139, Dia 69, Pulse 74, all lower, 
Temp; 33.4c, 34.9c, 35.4c getting higher,
Ointmented my fungal lesion, Aargh! 
Eye drops sprayed in, I olive-oiled each ear,
Have to book an appointment with the Doctor,
To be attached to the haemacytometer,
I’ll not complain, don’t want to be a bother,
Sadly, I’ve got a reputation as a yawper,
My right ankle ulcer is getting more mauver,
Yet something this morning went better…
My Porcelain Throne visit; no mess on the floor,
Constipation Conrad fought back more,
Unfortunately, this left me with my bottom sore,
So I Germoloided my sacraria,
And the surrounding area,
Did my teeth, shaved & had a shower,
And, no bother from Shirley’s Shaking Shoulder!
Got onto the computer,
Along came Sham, the Carer,
She gave a word that suited Starmer…
That word she’d found for him was pleonexia,
An excellent, most suitable nomenclature,
‘Excessive or inordinate desire to be richer’
Tonight, I was going to have some Golonkowa,

They were out of stock at Asda, though,
I’ll have lamb, carrots & colcannon mashed potato,
It may taste just like when served at a bistro?
I’ll be having spring water with it, not Cointreau,
I might add a drop of vinegar and oregano,
I’d fed up of eating food that’s cheap, 
To be honest, I’m sick of life’s fiasco,
Still, it’ll soon be time for me to go,
I don’t mind… I wanted you to know,
I’ve had enough of human’s mumbo-jumbo,
I hope in heaven I can at last get some Rumpo,
It depends on the catheter, though!

Ho, Ho, Ho.!
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State pensioners may lose £13,920, Wednesday after Labour Budget.

State Pensioners may be hit by tax hikes totalling over £14,000 from Wednesday when the new budget is unveiled. Labour has pledged not to raise Income Tax, VAT, or employees’ National Insurance contributions. Prime Minister Keir ‘Killer’ Starmer has cautioned that the nation’s “£22bn black hole” must be addressed, suggesting other taxes are likely to increase.
Labour’s manifesto already included a VAT rise on private school fees, but Chancellor Rachel Reeves could target other areas. This could leave households with state pension recipients facing up to £14,925 in additional annual charges. Capital Gains Tax on profits from selling second homes, business assets, shares, and valuable personal belongings is also under scrutiny.

Individuals are currently exempt from tax on the first £3,000 in profits, possibly vehicles, reports the Express. Currently, the tax stands at 18%  on earnings from second homes or 10% on other chargeable assets like shares if you’re in the basic income tax band, i.e., earn less than £50,270 per. That’s Cheery News!

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I woke up for maybe the 60th time of the night, remembering that the Asda order was being delivered this morning. I was totally unaware that it was only 04:00 hrs. But any chance of getting more sleep seemed a distant dream and beyond reality, so I started fumbling with the attached nocturnal catheter bag to free it for emptying.
Once I realised how early it was, I noticed the time as I hobbled into the kitchen. I do that sometimes, you know; noticed things. Fair enough, not often enough, but still.
By the time I’d emptied and disposed of the night bag, I also realised I would have time to complete my ablutionalisationing before the Carer or delivery arrived. And without rushing things, too. I liked that!
I amassed the medical treatments and appendages, catheter straps, and blood-stoppers. I replaced the Enoxaparin hypodermic, as it had leaked and was empty. And almost casually hobbled unrushingly to the wet room. Not that I was sure I would need it; it’s very rare that I do. But I’ve been told to keep a loaded needle in the wet room, just in case the blood oozes out when I utilise the Porcelain Throne (it didn’t); I was tickled pink at remembering the Enoxaparin needle, and very nearly adopted a Smug-Mode attitude. Doing that can be near fatal with my luck. Haha!
I’d already stripped and removed the catheter support bag and strappings and was standing at the sink about to get my teeth cleaned when the inner gurgling told me to get on the WC sharply.
What a Change this morning! The evacuating contents had gone from almost liquid last night, with Constipation Conrad back in charge. There were no signs of Trotsky Terence after three weeks! I’d almost forgotten how painful Conrad could be, and he was! When I used the toilet roll, I found a few specks of blood.
But this was to be expected after getting rid of the three rock-solid torpedoes. Haha! As soon as I did the teeth, I knew that the Enoxaprin could be put back on the shelf. No bleeding at all. Although, I did manage to break off a bit more of one of the troublesome double teeth. Then, I moved on to the shaving duties. I got three nicks, but none were of any bother; a quick splash of the Brut soon stopped them. 
I had a stand-up body scrub, not the delicate areas. It was far too early to wake my neighbours with the noise from the shower and drain.
Next, I got into close-quarter cleaning, ready for medicating. I started with Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the region of my bottom where things hang down a bit. Naturally, after the Constipation Conrad battle, things were terribly sore. The Germoloid soon started calming things down as it was washed and applied. I used a kitchen roll to dry that zone, and then I could check to see if there were any specks of blood, which, surprisingly, were on the towel. But not each time I wiped the area. Challenging to check cause if I twisted and bent with the mirror to try and see, the dangers were apparent, and the blood was only a few tiny specks. So, I got on with the most painful and sometimes frighteningly painful task of getting the ointment inside Little Inchie… Arrgh
After applying the Acne and eczema creams, I cover them with a layer of Germolne. I think it helps with the pain that the tube causes in the belly and lower regions with its tugging and pulling when the pouch fills up. As I wiped away the overspill, the blood reappeared on the towel—only flecks of it. The blood originated from the bottom of my onions? What next?
I’m going to ask the financial Carer to call the Doctor for me to get an appointment about this, and if she can get an appointment, to ring to see if I can get a lift to the Doctor’s appointment. 
It’s hard work, innit?

I continued with the other daily medicals I needed to do: ears, eyes, ankle ulcer, Cartilages, Carole and Chloe, Arthur Itis, etc.
Then, I refitted the new Catheter pouch, bag and strappings. Getting the Protection Pants on went extremely smoothly this morning, I have to say. yet another
So, you can see why my ablutions sometimes take me over two hours. Tsk!

I started updating yesterday’s blog. Again, getting the graphics I’d made and photographs I’d taken was a hit-and-miss affair. It’s a good job. I’ve got some in the WordPress gallery to find and use again. It let me put the first four on at the top without any problem. Grumph!

Carer Sham called late today; they are busy. She checked the taps and cooler and put on my socks. Bless her.

It was slow going on WordPress, but I eventually finished it and posted it to the ether.

Carer Chloe did the midday call, combined with the domestic call. She did her best to clean up the mess I’d made by burning the food on the cooker; she found some more food out of date in another cupboard. Chloe said to call Jenny and tell her so she could hand them out, so I did. And Jenny’s Frank came up and collected them.

Ruled for hours, out of the blue.
Some bits of memory during the three hours are clear, I think. Others… well, there aren’t any, really.
To such an extent that I just looked at the diary and found I’ve made an Iceland order for next week?
I’d worry about these spells, but I only forget to.

I just cleaned the computer, and it let me save some photos. They are out of order, of course, and belated. Grrr!

I think this was the first shot of the day.
Machine washed wee-wee’d in slippers.
Why are they all blue?

Waste bags I took to the chute.

Asda order.

Made a cock-up here!

Aha, fresh foods!

Chips, lamb burgers & ready meals.

Does the fridge still have room in it?

Afternoon shot?
I took many more but no save.

Evening.

A bit later… I think.

Even later, as Carer Chrisa arrived.
Aren’t these grand?

I’m going to get a summat to eat; I might not bother photographing it. No, yes, I will! Will I?

Back in the morning.

Good Morning.
Updated this blog.
Just the meal photo.

Minced lamb & onions, potatoes,
carrots, bread, yoghourt.
Then some Marmite rice cakes.
Memory-wise, after about 20:00hrs,
were blank or foggy.

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TTFN

Twitchy Inchy: Monday 28th October 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Are your thoughts often erratic?
Are your underpants made of plastic?
Are, were you ever a Eurosceptic?
Potassium permanganate is an antiseptic!
Should you learn & speak Esperantic?
What makes you feel ecstatic?
Why do you take drugs to be sadomasochistic?
Do you ever get over-emotionalistic?
What Jamaican food is escoveitch?
What’d you do if you became rich?
Are your knees & cartilage rheumatic?
Do you know the word, ochlophobic?
Have you dreamed of being omnific?
Personally, I think that would be terrific!
I’d get my Glaucoma fixed at the clinic!
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Regretfully, the computer did not let me save many pictures today. I have not recorded my thoughts here to avoid being prosecuted for blogging them, as they were unacceptable for publication. 
Cragnangles!

I stirred back into semi-life in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I’d not made it into the bed, the carer came later than usual, and I was too tired to bother with climbing into bed with all the risk involved; the catheter possibly leaking and my getting the clothes off. So I stayed in the chair. But could I get to sleep? Well, yes, actually, and I did dozens of times. But I was waking up with a jump, sometimes accompanied by an shock up my right leg. I was waking up so often so often. I gave up on the silly thought and expectation of getting any sleep and got up around 04:00hrs. The first thing I noticed as the brain fog cleared was the scary colour of the urine in the catheter bag as I removed it from the day pouch. I took a cracking snap of it, and it came out the exact same colour & hue as my eyes saw it. That might get me some sympathy, I thought. But, no!
Much later, after the usual morning farces had been completed, the computer was not letting me save many pictures of graphics. It arbitrarily allowed a few to be saved, but the others it refused and removed the ones of the same name I was attempting to save them as! I had neither the willpower nor the urge to make them all again, for fear that it may be the same next time I tried. It was soul-destroying!

I got on the computer and had to go through the memory-saving farce repeatedly. And with having to sign back in on every site, I lost endless time, many hours spent finding the passwords to do so. My memory lets me down every single day. Blasted Dementia Doreen, & the computer are to blame, not me. Huh!

Carer Richard arrived. He gives me advice, but my ability to do what is told is limited. The lad brought up my laundry bag, which he spotted on his way up. Bless him. The slipper I’d filled with wee-wee yesterday was returned, a child’s camouflaged face mask, an odd brown sock (not mine), and a broken, damp Smarties tube in the bag. One of the dressing gown waist belts was knotted in three places, and all the sleeves were inside out. But things like this are 🎵’Not unusual’🎵, as Tom Jones sang. Hehe!

After Richard had left, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I hastened to the wet room. I sat down in time today, avoiding a third day of embarrassment by not making it in time! Trotsky Terence ruled again, as I knew he would by the rumbling and almost squelching from the innards.
But this time, soft chunks of… a browny-green colour! Ooher! What next?

SUPRISE FRACAS ONE
I was getting increasingly frustrated with the computer and went to the kitchen to do the safety checks. During last night’s cooking, I discovered that I’d left the slow cooker turned on for about 18 hours without realising because there was nothing in it. Well, there are now cracks in the pottery bowl! At least one bit of luck helped ease things. Yes! The fire alarm did not go off again as I ran water on the bowl in the sink, and steam filled the kitchen. No new burns, either!

I cleaned the mess up and went back to the computer. I went through the cleaning routine. After the rigmarole was completed for the third time today, it let me save photos of it its own choice but not others. I’m fed up! Here they are. I snapped these first thing this morning. But didn’t do such an excellent job of them as I’d hoped to this time. Then again, I’m not surprised, I suppose, not to be honest.
I was a smidge dispirited.

The photo I’d taken of the returned slipper was saved and used. Oh, I’d better check that they haven’t fallen off the towel trickle heater. They’ve
all dried now, last night’s pee’d on tartan-coloured slipper I put in the laundry bag.
I can’t believe all the messes I get into nowadays.

SUPRISE FRACASES

Over seven days, I’ve had three tumbles, walked into the same doorframe three times and spent an estimated 32 extra hours on the computer trying & failing to sort out the memory. I also had two embarrassing accidents not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time. Oh, no, it was three. Thanks to Terence Trotsky! I’ve burnt two meals and saucepans, making messes to clean up. I left the slow cooker on for god knows how long, setting the fire alarm off. I left the hot water tap to run cold three times; luckily, the plug was not in the sink each time, so there were no floods.

As my cyber buddy Tim suggested, I’ve bought a stand-alone hard drive, but by some miracle, no one in the flats can or is willing to help me set it up for me. It could be the answer… maybe to the problem. But with my eyesight and memory, I dare not try to do it alone. I fear I could well make things worse and kill the computer.

A little after 16:00hrs, I typed away on this blog, and two screens appeared.
Not the foggiest what they were about.
I’m getting to the point of no return, I think.

Carer Kelvin called. Pointed out my nose was bleeding.
Medicated, he listened to my woes of the day. That was nice of him. He emptied the catheter-content jug for me and checked the kitchen stove and taps.

I finished here and got the bacon cooking for tonight’s meal. First, I’ll cut off the ginormous fat on it, then put it in the oven. I must remember it’s in there. I’ll use the buzzer timer, which might wake me if I fall asleep. Hehe!
I will be back in the morning to update you. Lamb burgers again, and I cooked them a lot longer today; they tasted lovely. I’ve got a food order coming in the morning.

My robotically-minded computer prevented the meal’s two photos from being saved. Humph! I’ll try to get up early to attend to the complete ablution work.

Fare Thee All Well!

Blotchy Inchy: Sunday 27th October 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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A new Google font here; it’s called Oregano.
Do you like it? Please let me know,
Ah, the ode; here’s how it does go…
The missus told me she was feeling chestier,
I said that’s my job and I took a gander…
She gave me a swift backhander,
We made up and had a mutual pander,
She was a big gal, my Grizelda,
It’s been over 20 years since I’ve held her,
The best bits that I can remember…
The sex was out-of-this-world, boshter!
 She made perfect sausages in batter,
We cared not for technomania,
No TV, computer – they didn’t matter,
We both shared a nostomania…
For sex, again and again, & more frequenter,
My passion ended when I lost her…
In heaven, I hope to find her…
I’ll get her location from St Peter…
It by chance I should again find her…
I hope I’ll not still be wearing the catheter?
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Andy is another furry who only needs his expressions; they are more transparent than if he had a voice. He loves a greenie and can get grumpy, but we all love him, including me!He regularly nods off cause he is sleepy,
Doug’s a real entertaining Kitty!
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– – There are 5 Actually, Sorry – –
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I stirred and passed wind rather violently and lay there feeling and listening to the birth of an in-my-tummy tsunami brewing up. There was no time for messing about. I needed to escape the clutches of the bed, free the nocturnal catheter pouch, and hasten to the Porcelain Throne ASAP! Once again, things didn’t go according to plan for me. After getting my night bag off in a flap, I went with Willie-the-Wooden-Walking-Stick to the wet room. En route, I knocked a bottle off the bed table and stubbed my toe. I almost tore off the dressing and nightgown, throwing them on the floor and plonked my bottie on the porcelain. The evacuation started before I got settled. I think it must be the liquidest evacuation I’ve ever suffered! And boy, did it reek! Yes, it did!
The evacuation lasted about thirty seconds. It spattered everywhere. What a stinking mess I made of the wet room! It must have taken me thirty minutes to clean everything up. How some liquid got onto the floor is still unknown; splashbacks? Then, a real insult to injury. As I was doing the mopping up, I had to move the bucket, not an easy manoeuvre with Willie and the mop to contend with; the mop slipped from its resting place on the floor cabinet… the only part of my body it hit, was my on my foot’s Onychocryptosis: ingrowing toenail. As I was quietly cursing my luck, I caught the bucket, lifting my foot to ease the pain, and spilt some of the contents back onto the just-cleaned floor!
What with the day catheter leaking down my leg and soaking my sock, slipper, foot and floor yesterday, the computer problems, and a lousy night’s sleep, now another embarrassing evacuation this morning, I got the feeling that I just might even be unluckier than I thought I was. Haha!
I finished cleaning up and returned to the bed to tidy it up. This was when I noticed that the bottle I’d knocked off the ottoman in my rush to get to the had burst open and spilt on the same spot on the carpet that I’d involuntarily wee-weeded on Saturday! More cleaning up was required, and all I’d done was get up to visit the WC!

I decided to make a mug of tea. Once in the kitchenette, I got that ‘Oh, Dear’ feeling; had I left the taps running in the wet room? I went to check. Sod Me; I had. Now, there is no hot water to do my ablutions. This irked me a little, and I hobbled hastily out of the wet room, worrying if I’d left the kitchenette tap running! And walked into the door frame… I think I’m either addicted to shoulder-charging door frames, or the NHS needs to get a move-on in tending to my Glaucoma Gladys problem and eyesight! Still, it allowed me to discuss my concerns and how I couldn’t get help. Fair enough. I know I was only talking to a wooden doorframe about them, but the doorframe and I seem to have gotten closer over the years. We’ve become firm friends. Hahaha! 

I won’t bore you with much about the computer, CorelDraw, and personal failures; just say I’m struggling more than ever.

An ailment that has been so kind to me these last few days has returned with a vengeance. This made things even more complicated to cope with on the computer. She must have visited me dozens of times, and after each one, I was lost as to what I was doing before she paid me each visit. 
I got in a right mess this afternoon with it. I thought I’d just run the Ccleaner. I went into a dipsy mode for ten minutes or so. I carried on doing the cleaning again. A window told me there was a problem with Norton, Google, and something else that meant nothing to me. A graph of Something Assistant’s workings, which I could not make any sense of, began. I didn’t know if I should minimise, close, or leave it running. I left it running and went to get a cold water wash. I didn’t shave in cold water and dared not carry a kettle of hot water from the kitchen to the room.

I started cleaning up the kitchen a bit. Then I remembered I’d turned off the computer (which I hadn’t). I returned to the desk, and the Assistant thingy was still working in the graph window. I decided on another well-calculated risky guess or gamble and turned everything off without saving anything. The computer would not let me. Grumph & Clagknackers!

I washed my feet in a bowl of water, had an unfruitful search for my bus pass, and did a bit of muttering. Then I restarted the computer about an hour later. This was about teatime.  
The computer let me save some graphics (top) and photos to a file but stopped after allowing a few. I don’t want to tell you my reaction; it was, but desperately futile and dangerous come to mind. Desperate worried me the most. Hehe!
Early this morning, I took this shot on the left from the kitchenette window. Why or how the computer let me save this one remains one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, lack of support, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Still, never mind.

Awaiting the arrival of the evening carer now. It is too early to start cooking cause the Carer may come while I’m noshing. So, another late meal. It’s not that I’m really bothered.

Carer Ali (evening) arrived, and I told him about my terrible start to the day. We both laughed. I was given medications, and I went into the kitchen.
The potatoes had boiled over and stained the cooker, floor, saucepan and counter! I was livid at myself! Carer Ali had to leave; he took the rubbish bag from the disaster with him to the waste chute.
I had to clean the floor, counter, sink and saucepan. But I still have the lamb burgers in the oven. I’ll eat each of them with two slices of bread and some tomatoes if they are still edible.
I even managed to add another burn to my knuckles, putting the assessed lamb back in the oven. It’s hard to select a word for how I feel without swearing!

I finished the burgers. I took photos of the saucepan, cooker, and so-called meal I’d made, but we’ll see if the computer will let me use them in the morning.

The story behind this miserable meal.

I took this snap later after I found the
potatoes had boiled dry in the saucepan
and covered the cooker with bubbling, 
boiling salted water, and the new pan
stained, and the handle melted!

This week has undoubtedly proven that I need more help.
Two failures to get to the Porcelain Throne in time.
Three times, the hot water tap was left running.
Two Catheter leaks that both left me with pee on my socks, feet, and the carpet.
I’m beginning to suffer more confusion and memory loss after each of the seizures.
I must ask a Carer to ring the Social for me, even if it means I must go to a home. 

BONUS INCHY ODE

I thought I was depressed before,
I think I need help even more,
Eyesight, hearing & memory poor,
I’ve lost willpower & confidence, for sure!
Leaks from the rear-end and catheter,
I’m now a supreme new bruise getter…
A decent bloodletter & bloodshedder,
It’ll only get embarrassingly badder,
I’m constantly dropping the eyedropper,
Falling, tumbling, coming a cropper,
Existence has lost all of its allure…
I regularly get a mental flashover,
Cartilages, Shaking-Shirley’s-Shoulder,
Electric Shocking Sherida…
Sham’s Mini-Seizures,
Arthur Itis and Colin Cramps getting older!
Depressions are getting far deeper,
An easy target for any crook or fraudster,
Cooker taps left on, there’s no hot water,
Mercy, compassion, give me no quarter,
Staying extant is getting fraughter,
Monday morning, I felt my heart flutter,
Will it be going into failure?
Failure; at that, I’m the master!
In this world, I now feel like a squatter,
As I age, problems get thornier,
Concentration gets weaker,
My breathing echos like a Zither,
Life is a bore that I’ve managed to endure,
New ailments arrive that to cannot abore,
I ask the Lord; Is there to be any more?
I drop things as I get more ambisinister,
Vocally, I’m becoming a babbler,
Fears, worries, increase my paranolia,
I forget what it was I was thinking over,
Some days, I feel inept, angrier, peakier,
Frustrated, depressed, or and weaker,
My outlook continually grows bleaker,
Now the computer won’t let me save a picture!
My mishmash of thoughts turns into a quagmire,
Do I need a psychological rejigger?
I need examinations done, ocular…
Audial, Diabetic & see the Doctor…
The world has never been my oyster,
My logicality & common sense get meagrer,
Each unsolvable problem is a monster,
When I die, go to the next sphere,
I hope to God they don’t send me back here!
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TTFNski

Nebbishy Inchy: Saturday 26th October 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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A CRAGKNAGLING DAY
Lots of things I do are not conventional,
Many of them are entirely unintentional,
Like passing wind, leaking catheter bag, as well…
Walking into things, dropping the kettle,
Using aftershave instead of Dettol,
Dementia Doreen ensures I stay mental,
Peripheral Neuropathy affects me physically,
Dizzy Dennis, Backpain Brenda, Toothache Tiffany,
Diabetical Glaucoma Gladys affects me visually,
Problems with my short-term memory,
So, I don’t think I can ever act conventionally,
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Somehow, I’ll fear things consequentially.
I used to love a coddle and cuddle,
And cunningly escaped from many a muddle!
Things domestic, dramatical, & dynamical,
Nowadays I have too many a whoopsies & debacle,
Like this morning, I sat doing things clerical…
It took me ages, which for me is normal, usual…
Arithmophobia; I struggle with owt mathematical,
Also, at anything diagnostical, I’m diabolical,
I felt down my leg, warm liquid trickling…
I cursed when I found the Catheter was leaking,
For all that time, my slipper had been filling…
The urine had been constantly leaking!
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Then CorelDraw stopped working,
I turned it all off and on again,
It really was a frustrating pain…
Nothing was copyable or duplicable!
I was in anger-making trouble,
Bad luck had again burst my bubble!
Depression came; it was not deflectable,
No resolution, will-power detectable…
An emotional paralysis, yet demonical…
A revenge-wanting rage got my disapproval,
The solutions tried were only hypothetical,
Terminated my plans photographical…
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My computer problems looked to be critical,
The carer said I looked pathetic!
My problem-solving was to me unfixable,
I was offered any, but I felt unconsolable,
I was at the end of my tether, it’s undeniable,
My problems are confusing and unfathomable,
I’ve had days that were more pleasurable,
Even if they are now unrecallable,
Am I or the computer more unreliable?
No help can be found; is it unrepairable?
Getting photos on seemed unachievable,
One option left to try, unbelievable,
It may work, but it sounds unconceivable…
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I put my plan into action…
Can’t save owt, here goes, no option…
Closed it and got a reaction warning,
Need saving in programmes your closing,
Excel, CorelDraw, Word, and Norton…
I sat here without much of a notion…
A taste came to my throat; absinthian!
I pulled the plug… abnormalisation!
I spent a few minutes in contemplation,
A bag of nerves, idiot, not absolute, an alien,
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Will it work? How will it be affected?
My heartbeat beat and accelerated…
Rebooted it, nervously admitted,
The Windows screen eventually appeared,
I opened CorelDraw, now almost scared,
The screen went blank and disappeared!
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Tired once more,
I’m not too sure,
Tried to save a photo,
A graphic of plain azure,
But it didn’t save, no go!
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I spent hours trying to get the photographs and graphics to appear here. Only the first few went on, Huh!
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Wee.

04:30hrs: From the kitchen.

Reflection shot through bacony.

Taken later in the morning.

Sorry, but I’m cheesed off!

Sorry about the shortage of loadable graphics & photos.
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TTFNski.

Inefficiency Inchy: Friday 25th October 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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That Starmer gave me back the money he’d stole,
To pay for, to fill in the Tories black hole,
Proving he’s a greedy, uncaring arsehole,
He eats pheasant & bison; for me, a rissole!
I went to get my Omeprazole,
To get them down my food whole,
In the box, £20 notes, quadruple!
Had Keir decided to repay me?
Mayhap he felt a smidgen guilty?
No, that can’t be; he has no pity…
I had a surge in my memory,
I put them in the box for an emergency.
That was back around 1973…
They don’t look like the new ones, see!
Would they be any good to me?
A man who cannot manually wee…
Who’s on his way to going potty!
I planned his ode; now it’s plot-free!
Gone into the ether – Oh, dearie me!
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I took another pasting from the computer today. I spent more time cleaning, closing, and rebooting it than using it! It still refuses to save some snaps and graphics, whatever I do. Now, when it refuses to save, it takes off many photos I was trying to save with an old name and refuses to save anything with a new number or name. I was using it from the previous time. I can’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into with it!
Grumph, Gnash & Gnangles!

Up late today, 06:35hrs.
Took off the nocturnal catheter bag while I was still on the bed.
A better colour, though. Carer Chris classed it as a four.

I went to do the safety checks in the wet room and kitchenette.
The view was clear after so much fog that I snapped it.
Later, the fog fell, but the computer stoically refused to save the photo of the fog to go on WordPress. I tried saving another one with a new name, but that was impossible all day! (Up to now, 15:00hrs.) Grrr!

I decided I might just get the ablutions done before the first Caregiver arrived, but I dared not use the shower, as it was still a bit early and may disturb the other tenants. Before I could get the things ready, Caregiver Christopher arrived.
Chris sorted the medications, got a telephone call and went to the balcony to answer it. Cor, the cold blew up my legs and my not-underpanted lower regions. Brr! Hehehe! 
I nearly asked him to put the diabetic socks on but decided against it, as I intended to get back to doing the ablutions. Chris said he would call back later and put them on for me.

It all went flowingly with the stand-up wash and shaving. Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving. No teeth or gums bleeding.
And I seemed to get a crack on with it and sing to myself, too! Yes! As I recall, Elvis, Billy Fury, Rick Nelson, and Adam Faith songs—well, the words as best I could remember of them.
However, the evacuation on my Porcelain Thrones was again a super-messy affair. It was still a three-tone colourisation as it had been for the last three days.
Blacks, dark browns and yellows.
Even the cleaning up seemed to take less time this morning. I feared I may break out in a feeling of semi-contentment. 

I spent hours and hours getting not very far with the blog. Updating yesterday went smoothly, and the computer let me save the two belated graphics I needed.
I was worried about that!.
That was the limit of its compassion! I got fed up with taking shots of the fog and being unable to use them, so not many new photos made it to Inchy Today.

The ode for today was just not flowing, so I added a bit of humour to it. Strewth, Christopher’s midday call arrived as if I’d just blinked from when he came earlier. The lad got the painkillers given to me and put on the thicker, longer diabetic socks for me. Ah, that’s warmer now! I was going to take a photo of the socks to show you how thick and long they are, but my confidence from earlier had been shattered.

I took another snap of the misty view. Then I cut up and seasoned the potatoes and put them in an oven tray, ready for when the oven heated up enough.

Then, I tried again to get these two photos, this time on CorelDraw and into this blog. It took a few tries, and I had to save somewhere else. I couldn’t remember for ages where I’d saved them, but I did get them on belatedly. Then it let me save the snap of Caregiver Christopher. When he was on the balcony on his phone, I could not hear what was being said.
Cunning and bothering!

I took this one earlier, and this time, it was saved!

Computers (well, this one certainly is) are one of the banes of my life!

This is a mystery photo.
Obviously, it was taken in error. I assume I don’t know what, where, or why I took it. Is it unlikely that some clever person reading this can trigger my mind?

Ah, the potatoes can go in the oven now.
I’ve got 35 minutes to get the computer cleaned.

Incidentally… CorelDraw Did Not Crash today!
There’s a first over the last 4 days.
This worries about what it will do tomorrow!

I ate more biscuits today than I ever have before. I blame the hassle of the computer getting at me more and more! I think my gobbling all those cookies (naughty, I know) ruined the taste of the meal. It looked and smelt good, but it tasted the same as the cookies. Hehe!

Carer Chris did the last visit for me. Painkillers were issued, the diabetic socks removed, and off he trotted on his way back to his wife and son, Gideon.

It was another horrible night. I woke up in pain so often that I gave up and got up around 04:10hrs. I needed the Porcelain Throne urgently. Only just made it in time!
I wonder if the meal was out of date?

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TTFN