Inchy Today: Monday 10th March 2025

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I’m not coping with life’s cock & bull,
Not living life much, indeed it’s not complete,
It’s less agreeable, more allegorical,
With the ingrowing toenails on my feet!
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Lonely, depressing, confusing and exilic,
Killing, wars, hating have become endemic,
Greed has now become most eclectic,
This is making me into an elegiac!
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If companionship I could acquireth…
A recovery in my spirits may beginneth,
Even at 80, can life refresh?
No, I’ll just bewaileth!
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To avoid getting any angrier, or angstier,
Full of failure and being depressederer,
Maybe I ought to see an augurerer?
Before I meet St. Peter?
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I now struggle with things arithmetical,
As I always have with things astrophysical,
My knees and hands are all arthritical,
But I try to stay amicable.
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I’ve always been something of a hypothesist,
I wanted to be a mouth organist, a harmonicist,
And was always a reader, a hermeneuticist,

And a pretty fair anecdotalist!
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Nowadays, I’m incapable of getting a crescendi,
Sad as it is, at least I do know why,
But with the end of the world being well-nigh…
I worry about the survival of the tsetse fly!
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I went to learn about antispyware…
There were a lot of people there…
An MP, a roadsweeper & a beefeater…
Good job it wasn’t a vegetarian affair!
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I went to an anti-Starmer get-together,
We all agreed he spoke bilgewater,
We knew sadly that he wasn’t a suicider…
So we bought a steamroller to run him over!
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Sir Francis died aboard ship of dysentry,
Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley & Kennedy,
Each President was assassinated, sadly…
But no one has killed Starmer yet? – alackaday!
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WARS STILL RAGE IN OUR WORLD
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Last night, I slept much shorter, but I was far less ridden with jumping awake all the time. And I did get back to sleep more quickly each time, even if   tried a few times to tug out my interstitial sulcus. What was totally missing for the whole time was . A smile emanating! I considered thinking about the possibility of making the bed but chose to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch, and urine was a six on the NHS scale.

Matron Jackie and an assistant called on me.
(As did seizures, dizziness and Anne Gyna)
I struggled to follow things with two voices to listen to.
Matron Jackie will try to get me help with hospital visits and doing the ablutions.

Seizures increased after they had gone.
Confused, I did not make any notes.
Did take some photos. Not necessarily in the order put on this blog, Confusion Konrad to blame.

Misty morning.

Clock-Calendar changed.

Waste sorted.

The spuds were readied and put in the slow cooker.

Evening shot.

Nine hours later, I made the first mug of tea.
Realised I’d turned the slow cooker on to boil the spuds but left them on the old cooker.
This could happen to any other idiot, you know! Hehehe!

It was yet another busy day, but little got done.
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Keep Safe! – Kia Haumaru!

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Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed. 


Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!

I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me! 
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some  shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.  
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

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May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

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Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,

Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,

Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,

One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,

I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,

I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say… 
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
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I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

These time-consuming procedures were carried out without Accifauxpas—just one cut shaving and an unintentional shoulder charge on the doorframe on leaving. Which set off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, who soon calmed down afterwards. The medicationalisationings went very well indeed. (No, I’m not joking) For some reason, creaming underneath the catheter strap bleeding did not hurt one iota! The new type of barrier cream is more effective than the old one. Or, due to me being in a mood because I had just drifted away into the ether and left me feeling free?

A decent, more normal-coloured morning shot from the kitchenette window when I was making the first of what turned out to be far too many mugs of Glengettie, Co-op 99, and Thompson’s Punjana tea? 

I sorted out the waste bags and put them near the door.

I dropped the , as a series of Shaking Paroxysmal Dyskinesias seizures visited. Each lasted for about a minute, with about two minutes before the following one came along. I had five, I think. But there was no tumbling or falling with them. All of the seizures can’t be controlled and are like Starmer; they come, do anything they want, and kill people (pensioners & farmers in Starmer’s case) at will… but of course, the seizures don’t lie or take backhanders, unlike our hated, loathed, despise, lying by omission, figure & fact destroying, Tory-like Labour PM, Fürhrer Keir Isod the voters) Starmer. Who would be defenceless over his lies and manipulating facts in any court of law? But, of course, this is the HMG we are talking about.

Only today: Again, Starmer is laughing a loud lie.The Prime Minister has told Louisa James that pensioners will be better off in the long term under Labour because of the tough decisions HMG makes to stabilise the economy.
Hahaha!
But I respect his skill and determination to be and use a great misleader, with his slithery sidestepping, hocus-pocus, and mumbo-jumbo in the Houses of Parliament.
May He Rot In Hell! (Soon!)

At this point , increased in frequency and variety. Two mammoth ones included.
No memory notes left to use on the writing pad.
Around 05:00 hrs, the seizures got less frequent and were almost copeable with, as Carer Christopher arrived.
I had to stop writing the big ode and blogging. Glaucoma Gladys was fuzzing my eyesight, as she does after I’ve been daft enough to use the computer for so many hours.
I blame my love of odeing, which didn’t come out. It needs amending and catching up on in the morning. Indeed, this will require a lot of work and a smaller (above) ode writing, as initially, it was going to be the Alphabet Ode today, so I’ll do one in the morning. That reads confusingly to me? Sorry.

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

What a magnificent pose!
Glad to report that Andy’s servant, Doug, says that the lad is now back eating his greenies again!
Just look at the expressionable face Andy is putting on. Showing to me Contentment & expectations. ♥

Carer Joanne called, bless her heart, to return my laundry.

As Carer Christopher came, and I was feeling better after the seizure flood, I started feeling hungry. I took this sunset photo as I checked what I had to choose from for my daily meal. I bet Herr Starmer has more than one meal a day. Chris took my diabetic socks off, medications were issued, and we had a mini-waffle session.

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

Corned beef & potato hash.
A pot of instant mash, with a pinch of salt and black pepper, and a fork of Marmite added and mixed in, along with some garden peas.
With a pot of Ykos lemon yoghourt to have for afters. Nice! It went down well.

Now, I had to stay; I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. Huh! Zzzz!

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Doctor this coming Thursday.
Need help with DDDD.
The seizures are coming more severely.
Hope the Doctor can help me.
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TTFNski!

Inchy: Saturday 15th February 2025

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I met with the Doctor & we nattered,
There was talk of my being neutered?
After the local gal who I’d carefully nurtured!
My emerging passions looked numbered,
I’d misheard; it was the hearing aids I needed,
I went to Ivy; she said she had been nominated,
I made my move. Is she ready to be mated?
Then, I asked if things could be negotiated,
Mentioned about me being buried or cremated?
Without thinking, I said I was getting hornier,
And she threw me into a corner…
Over the years, as I have grown older,
Ivy moved to live in Oxfordshire,
Ah, our first fumbling manoeuvre,
It was far from being ordinaire,
I thought I heard an orchestra…
She was older, a good instructor…
I thought our romping was over,
Now, 70 years later, I bumped into her,
She too, now had a pacemaker,
We went to the flat, we started to perspire,
The amour flowed, she looked even prettier,
Passion and satisfaction we did acquire,
We repeatedly satiated our desire…
I got weary, but I wasn’t a quitter.
I wished I was 70 years younger…
As I rolled off, and she had vodka…
Belatedly, I answered, ‘I’d prefer being cremated!’
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03:30hrs: I jumped back into mock life with the two-morning regulars  and shot up the right leg from, I assume, coming from  . Which made me take this snap of the ankle. It’s definitely better than it has been for a day or two. 
I got the Nocturnal Cather pouch detached from the day bag. I got the kettle to make a brew using two of Thompson’s Punjana tea bags. They seem so weak nowadays. A little like what I am! Hahaha!

I adjusted the old-fashioned Clock Calendar near the computer on the 1962 Hopewells E-Plan cabinet with the laptop on top of it. And the hinges, broken doors and discoloured, cracked top, and three draws with only two openable.

I made up the waste bags into one and put it near the door
Then, as I made the brew of Punjana, I took this shot of the view from the kitchen.
Then, after forgetting to drink the tea, I meandered into the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne, initially.
COR BLIMEY!
I got myself settled on the plastic seat, and nothing would evacuate. What a change from yesterday’s almost liquid ten-second evacuation! After a few tentative urges and no response other than pain, I got the crossword book and pen. 
I even got a few answers in as well.
But then again, I had plenty of time once the monster torpedo crept out a little… and that was it for fifteen minutes more pain as the unmoving brute stretched everything stretchable!
I could feel the warm blood on my bum, then my legs.
Finally, things began to move again, but so slowly.
There was at last relief as the beast dropped almost with a thundering thud… and the water shot up and spray cleaned the blood on my bottom for me. Haha! Joking there! 
I soon got myself and the blood cleaned up. 
Then started the ablutionalisationings. Teeth first, then I started shaving. The strange hairs growing on my neck just didn’t want to be cut again. I tried all three pairs of razors. Humph! Why it bothers me so much, I don’t know.

While finishing off the shaving, Carer Christopher arrived nice and early. I did a quick medicationing of the Acne & Eczema, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the crutch and man breasts.
Christopher gave me the medications, got my socks on and went above the call, and shaved those damned hairs off of my neck and up my head. They were growing now!
Much appreciated that. How come for forty years no growth, now it starts? Another of the many mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?
Or, not like. Haha!

ANOTHER MYSTERY!
Could I find my Kodak Tim mark2 camera?
Unbelievable! After a half-hour search, I gave up. Yet felt confident I’d find it later. Which I did… 8 hours later.
The real mystery is how I couldn’t find it in the first place. Once I saw it, I remembered putting it on top of the microwave when making a brew earlier. Sad, innit? Still, in the searching sessions, I did find the sink unplugger. That was underneath the hospital bed. I know, I know! And the toothache spray was underneath the 1962 Hopewells E-Plan cabinet with the laptop on top of it. With the hinges, broken doors, discoloured, cracked top, and three draws, only two openable.

So, there are a few photos for today’s blog.

Carer Joanne did the midday call. She helped me sort some paperwork. Thank’s gal. The seizures, absent previously, started kicking off when Joanne was here.
And they repeated for different lengths of time until teatime arrived. Then, eased off a little.

I made a food order for next week. JS Tue 6>10:00hrs.

Carer Christopher made the late call. Took my diabetic socks off. He returned the involuntarily pee’d-on slippers that had been washed for me. Much appreciated that.

Battered fishcakes, and some with tomato ketchup in the centre. Both are from Iceland. Both delicious! I used up all the remaining fresh garden peas. Lovely! The pickled beetroot was soft enough not to bother my remaining crumbling teeth. The thing that lowered the taste rating a smidge was the terrible sour-tasting mini-tomatoes, Spanish.
An unexpected bonus tonight, well, three!
One: Not a single seizure while eating the meal. 
Two: Eric’s Electric Right-Leg Shocks didn’t strike once!
Three: Twitching-Neck-Nigel did jerk once while eating!

I got the things washed up and found the watchable TV programmes were all on the same two channels, straight through for four hours, ending up with Match of the Day.
I settled into the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, with a bottle of soda water.
I watched a Del Boy episode, then a Dad’s Army, and turned over to watch the football highlights on BBC 1.
I didn’t even see the start of any match. I slipped off into a deep sleep. It felt like I shot awake a minute or so later… but no! It was three hours later, as the football intro music and credits came up for the end of the matches!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

 

Inchy: Sunday 9th February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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04:55hrs: After an often-broken sleep caused by dear  , I still got about 5 hours of sleep in bits, so that wasn’t too bad; I woke most unenthusiastically. I pondered over things as I sat there on the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, not fully aware of things, trying to figure out why I felt like this. I put it down to my having woken up with an activating seizure. My confusion started to clear after a few minutes. But I still felt a little off-kilter, mentally. Voids in my memory, despite believing I had been dreaming, there were no indications of what of. Annoying that, innit?
I eventually, gingerly rose from the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, creaking, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and caught my balance. I took off the Nocturnal Catheter pouch to free myself to start the short mini-exercises… Well, that was the plan.

Within seconds of starting the stretching, I was on the floor, with a decent bruise on the forehead gained on my way down to the carpet. I still have no idea where or what I hit my head against. It all seemed to occur so quickly.
Getting back up was as easy as it could have been, with me landing next to the recliner. Obviously, it was painful clawing my massive, flabby body back up into the recliner. Sensing that this was much more painful than usual, I considered pressing the Help Line Alarm. As my head cleared again, there was no blood at all coming from the wound, just hardly seeable scratch and bruise. I went into my Sherlockian Mode and realised why it hurt me so much, and I found the cause of the original tumble! Yes!

Had given way. I feel sure! After a few moments. The head bump was painless and only was hurting… until a minute later, when Took over as the ‘Head Ailment’. Confusion Konrad remained. And I’m not sure all this is in order of happening now.
I forgot all about doing the balance routine after that.

I’m not sure why, but I thought a mug of tea would be a good idea or of any benefit. But I made one and adjusted the old-fashioned clock-calendar.
I nipped to photograph the morning view from the kitchenette window. Misty and cold out there again. This snap came out all right. But I thought when taking it I saw a planet, albeit a tiny one, on the top left. No signs of it?

Carer Selina arrived. She noticed the bruise on my head. I made her laugh, telling her how it happened. Haha!

Back to my blogging. In ten minutes, I had five short visits . Then, nothing for an hour or so.
And back she came, I had to give up, for fear of making so many mistakes that I didn’t realise then and losing hours of precious time to correct them. Humph!

I got pm Word to write the day’s Ode. 

Came back on again.
I had to give up again. I will sit down and wait it out, hoping it will not be another long one. They seem to tire me out.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Shasha is one of Tim Price’s
Colony of Cats. Bootiful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Made a meal and settled the football game.
There were two FA Cup matches to watch, and I did not move out of the recliner for hours and hours.
I took this in a break between games.
The first one was Plymouth Argyle beating Liverpool!

Made the nosh and settled down to see the second match.
Aston Villa v Tottenham Hotspurs.

Then I realised that Quatermass & The Pit film was showing on the same channel after the footy. 
1967 FILM NOIR 
They don’t make them like this anymore!.
From 1953 to 1967, They made three Quatermass treats.
The first one was made for a TV series. But, 40% of the original tapes have since been lost by the BBC. There are DVDs, but they have a lot of missing action. But I loved them them all.
The TV one was poorly scripted, badly acted, and as for ‘Rocket Ship’ landing in the house’s bedroom, without destroying it… well, it was part of the fun and mystery. This was given the title, The Quatermass Experiment. The film concerns three astronauts launched into space aboard a single-stage-to-orbit rocket designed by Professor Quatermass. A TV series. 
Then (1953) QUATERMASS II film. Strange metallic meteorites rain down over Winnerden Flats, an eerie new town near a strongly guarded chemical plant. Professor Quatermass discovers that contact with the meteorites causes an unusual infection. He is also astonished that the chemical plant is modelled after his design for a moonbase, where life can thrive in an artificial atmosphere. Investigations uncover a conspiracy that extends from the Government level to the zombie-like workers who will stop at nothing to protect the plant. Quatermass deduces that aliens from one of the moons of Saturn travel to Earth in the meteorites, possess human minds, and share knowledge through a collective consciousness. I loved it! Especially with Sid James getting killed in the pub on Winnerton Flats.
Ah, Memories!

.
The last photo was taken as I looked around to ensure I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have. All looks good!

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I’m off to bed now!
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I got about four hours’ worth of Kip! Great!

Acci-Whoopsies Sat 8th Feb 2025

HAVE A GREAT DAY
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do
I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain,
What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again,
I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline,
The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin,
Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place,
Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face,
I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again,
Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane!
Dancing, laughing at the pain
I’m happy again…
I’ll cope and smile at the pain,
I may flinch cause the pain is a bane!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. 
I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.

Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. 
The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not
give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.

Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay.
2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before.
3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned.
A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me!
At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! 
. Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea…  Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening.
I’ve had better mornings!

Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment.
There I go,
moaning again. Tsk!

I got the computer on the go.
By Gawd, it’s going so slow.
But so was I, like an armadillo.
Then I got rumbling below…
Back to the wet room I went!

I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! !
Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now.
However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through.
A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, 
thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind.
Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them.
Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha!
Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. 

I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!

Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥

Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?

Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.

Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.

I updated this blog up to here.
And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea.
This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.

Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.

The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!

Then, I sorted out a meal.
But this one wasn’t!

I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. 
Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner.
Constantly waking up with either  or pains twinging away.

A painful day and night today!

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Evening… or, Morning Each

 

Inchy: Friday 7th February 2025

If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare,
I speak to those with compassion in their agenda,
Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger…
To those who self-profit is not their main allure,
Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator…
Even if they fail on the alcoholometer!
: : : : :
Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair,
Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater,
Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer,
A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander,
To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer,
He comes across as a blind bullshitter!
: : : : :
Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder,
I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer,
In 1968. Starmer became a barrister,
In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer,
1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber,
Then became the Labour Party Führer!
: : : : :
Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter,
The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber,
The everyday growing creepier and dishonester,
Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller,
This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter,
This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur!
: : : : :
I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver,
Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer!
If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser,
I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor!
Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor!
Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania!
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Up at 0540hrs:
The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6

Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!

Carer Richard made the first call.

I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first.  and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now! 

As messy as it could be!

I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had.
The world… and my world is going mad!

From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away.
Bags out in the flat lobby.
Started emptying them.
I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr!
The fridge still had room in it!

Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.

Getting late now. Tsk!

Getting dark already.

Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.

I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.

Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully).
I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!

07:30hrs Saturday.
I’m Back! Hehe!
I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself!
Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) 
Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty.
I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started.
rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me.
All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe!
I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.

The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all?
No was the answer!
But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.

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Fare Thee all well!
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Inchy: Unbelievable Tuesday 4th February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – HELP FOR ALL! – – –
There’s usually a thought worth thinking…
Until a problem arrives, more demanding,
Though factors currently depending…
On seriousness, practicality & spending,
Earlier plans may need synchronising,
The original idea may need some tweaking…
Options left available may leave you seething,
Chances of success may be receding?
Can you see where this ode is leading?
Your intentions may be beyond solving,
But you’ve got me sympathising,
You must be realising…
I do not want to be scaremongering,
Needs, desires, once so promising,
Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising,
If possible, they need reorganising,
These failures will be nauseating,
Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening,
No need for any self-admonishing…
Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing…
We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing,
I’m pretty good at motivating…
You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing!
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻 

Then things started to get farcical!
The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working.
JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. 
They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery.
I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time!
The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed.
This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows!
Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘

Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!

Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.

Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card.
I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour.
If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in Porc failedan unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know.
Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!

The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?

The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.

Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.

I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.

Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting.
A wide shot, the top one.
Pretty really!
I zoomed in to get a close-up.
Strangely, this one came out alright, too.

The next job was to get something to eat.
Which I did.
Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault!

I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! 
Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! 
I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!

Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
SO FAR THIS YEAR…
A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost! 
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly!
The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular!
I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems.
Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent.
Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups.

Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time?
Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. 
Can’t get any help!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I am struggling all around, losing ground…
Things going wrong… others compound,
Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned…
The end is high; I’ll be bound!
I’m sick of being flatbound.
The sanity I once foreowned…
Has departed, and I’m all alone,
With help, my confusion to unconfound…

For solutions to confusion, I toss around,
But my brain is now thought-barren ground,
Ever more problems to confound…
Will I take them with me to my burial ground?
Frustrations are just grinding me down!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
KEEP SAFE, FOLKS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 2nd February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – PART 214⅔ – – –
My confidence in politicians is gone forevermore,
It’s been fading, but now we have Starmer…
I don’t want to be an alarmer…
But the animal is a liar and a falsifier,
Prime Minister? More lie a financier,
A get-rich-quick dictator, a Führer,
I hope he soon starts to flounder…
His dodgy use of his filibuster,
Attacking now the fox-hunter,
After robbing money from each pensioner,
And financially crippling each farmer,
Next election, we’ll have no agriculture!
What next from this fiddling fraudster?
This untouchable political freebooter?
What is next on his agenda & addenda?
Expect anything from this tax-imposing liar,
: : : : :
As for his pensioner’s fuel-payment abduction,
That was his most significant, cruellest abomination!
No sign of the Railway’s renationalisation?
The only things that he shows any affection…
Seems to be backhanders, port & bourbon,
His ego seems to flourish and bourgeon…
Increasing taxes, with contradistinction,
WASPI campaign, Starmer tapped into the emotion,
“Said he’d help them get compensation”, more aversion,
HMG denied 3.6 million women’s discrimination!
He said they would cut energy bills to £300 immediately,
Set up GB Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company,
1st Jan; the EPC came into effect, bills rose, alarmingly,
More Starmer lies proven, Ministerial batrachomyomachy!
Labour promises are fake and disobligatory,
Starmer’s killing off the Labour Party… magnificently!
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Starmer has all of the required political armamentaria,
To be the most successful Labour Party annihilator,
He’s moraless, and a clever cunning misleader,
An effective commoner, worker & proletariat bleeder,
He seemingly believes his own counterpropaganda,
Lies freely, takes backhanders without any forfeiture,
Installs a lack of faith & hope in each Labour voter,
He’s ridden with greed, self-wealth & pleonexia,
He’ll falsify, confuse, cleverly pretends to palter…
I’d like to see him go on a psychogalvanometer,
He has arrogance, deceit by the plethora,
A verbal illusionist, an indirect trickster,
This completes today’s Ode to Starmer!
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– – – DONE WELL THIS WEEK! – – –
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I’ve been counting Starmer’s lies, worse than I thought – He simply won’t stop! All politicians are economical with the truth. Sir Keir Starmer has lifted lying to a new level. And he doesn’t even hide it. If there’s an art to lying, the PM hasn’t bothered to master it. He lies and lies again, and there’s no art in it at all. He just says whatever suits him at the time. Broken promises, u-turns and pledges, and it’s exhausting. I’d quickly run out of space if I tried listing them all here. He started by lying to his own party, winning support for the Labour leadership with 10 key pledges, including abolishing student tuition fees and the two-child benefit cap and nationalising public services. All quickly dropped. Having secured the support of the Corbynite left, he stepped up his efforts by lying to the rest of us to win this year’s general election. Starmer led us to believe Labour would retain the Winter Fuel Payment and said nothing about scrapping the £86,000 cap on social care costs for elderly or tax-targeting farmers! There are further proven 162 lies recorded that I can use later. Undoubtedly, he will have added to the total by the time I get around to using his current lies and deceitful statements. Bless the unscrupled git!
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04:00hrs: After one hour of sleep, I bolted awake, coughing away,  jerking my neck and head to my right. I’ve never had a more extended Ted session before. I was close to pressing the alarm-alert wristlet. I was getting a little unnerved by the Twitching. But within 5 minutes, the chesty coughing died down, and ten minutes later,  calmed down. Phew! He didn’t just stop as he usually would; this session was a gradual slowing down of the rate of twitches until it stopped. 

I removed the grade 7 on the NHS chart urine catheter pouch from the day pouch. I realised the weekly Friday changing of the catheter day bag had not been done this week! No wonder I’m suffering with pain from the tubing in poor Little Inchy! But it’s partly my fault; I’ve had unfamiliar Carers calling this weekend due to the shortage of regular carers with illnesses. I should have reminded them. 
Later, I even forgot to ask Carer Shaquille to do it. Tsk!

I suspected things may be different today when the innard’s warning to get to the wet rooom Porcelain Throne was interspersed with violent belching and noisy escapages of wind from my rear end. I was right! It took me a lot of pain, effort and time to force the one massive, gigantic, solid submarine to even start evacuating. I can’t remember any events of this nature where it took me so long to achieve the required bowel movement. Amazingly, there was less bleeding than yesterday, but the escaping product was half as large again compared to Saturday’s torpedo. It was so much so that I added water, waiting for the cistern to refill 3-times from the tap to encourage and unclog the monster on its journey to the sewer below!

I took some early morning shots of the view from the kitchenette window. Both have the ‘blotch’ partially hidden.
Again, there was a green hue in the sky. I took both shots slightly higher than usual, so the darkest bits masked the blotches. Haha!

I got the computer going and started updating the Saturday blog. First, I needed to use CorelDraw. After doing so, I had the first run of since yesterday’s teatime. They were all short ones, but this made them more easily recognisable. So I decided it would be better to go and make a brew of Glengettie. Gave way on me as I went through the kitchen door. Banging my knee against the cabinet corner triggered a reaction , and both ailments got a good dose of Phorpain gel, and I took a Codiene to be on the safe side. When any cartilage and Arthur Itis get a clouting at the same time on the same leg, well, it does hurt a bit. Haha! Of course, this didn’t bother a fit young man of my granite-like pain-bearing qualities.  

The tea had gone cold, so I made another one. Making sure I drank it while it was hot enough! As I took this photo, I realised I had not yet changed my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. So I changed the day & date on my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. Then, I discovered that I’d made  I’d been dating all the graphics with the wrong date and had saved some as the 1st and others as the 2nd to different files! It later cost me hours to find and move them where I wanted them. Obviously, I did not swear, curse, spit, thump the wall, growl, wail or get angry or depressed over this at all.

Carer Shaquille arrived. Changed my socks, medicated me, and we had a short natter & laugh.

I was working on the ode, and revisited me. Boy, was this bad. I had to give up, but I did some work on the Liar Starmer insult content. My hatred for him still came through!

Carer Kimberly did the next call. Which helped me come back from the brink of unconsciousness. I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I was up for the previous few hours before her arrival. We spoke about the dentist and nurse’s visits and the Q&A form for HMG that I need to fill in next Wednesday. Kimberly will go through it with me.

As the seizures eased off, took over as the primary ailment in action. The occasional coughing and sneezing, presumably from the Novovirus.

The sunshine was trying to come out late this afternoon. I used the loan camera from Jenny for this one to avoid blotches. It came out okay?

Another emptying of the catheter day pouch. I must remember to ask a Carer to change the day bag. How I keep forgetting beats me. Mind you, so does the cotton wool, which looks floating in the urine. Might the cause of the feedback pains be the pouch not being replaced and the cotton stuff blocking the exit tube? I must remember! The regular Carers usually remind me about this on Fridays. But so many are off work poorly. I felt guilty; had I passed my virus?

I was desperately trying to get to sleep. Amazing… I nodded of at long last after days without sleep!

Carer Victor arrived and woke me up!
I struggled again to get back to sleep for about four hours.
Blessedly, I nodded off again.
Carer Richard arrived and woke me up!
After this awakening, I could not get back to sleep. I gave up the idea at 01:30hrs and got my ablutions tended to.

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TTFNski!
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