Duodenal ulcer

Incontinent Inchy: Monday 15th July 2024

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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04:25hrs: I begrudgingly heaved and hauled my overweight, blubbery body from the bed. I even thought of getting back in it as Cartilages Carole & Chloe kicked off the moment I put my colossal weight on the knees. 
I bent to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. The bag was a  little fuller this morning, considering I’d only been in bed for about four hours. Yesterday’s not being a happy laddie lingering into today. There I was, sitting on the Throne, having a go at the crossword puzzle book, just seeing if I get some answers to the many not-finished ones over the months. I 
counted the cracks I could see on the ceiling. It amazes me how I seem to get a different number each time. And I suppose. 23 today.  The first long, deep brown torpedo escaped painfully, followed immediately by splatterings from . The end loose evacuated product was once again of a Kharki hue, small and wet but lumpy. Well, it made a change for me. Haha! 
The were tackled next. Starting with the hurtful, bleeding-again teggies. Then, the extremities needed cleaning in preparation for the medicationings. These were done before the shaving this morning. Another first for me is that I’ve always done the shaving first, but not today. I’ve no idea why. One good thing about having the diabetic socks and the compression bandaging on both legs is that I can’t clean them, so one job is saved. Also, I do not need to medicate the leg ulcers or ingrowing toenails.
Were Germoloided once things had dried from the washing of the bottie. I found that I’d run out of the anti-fungal cream for Little Inchies cream. So I tried some Germolene to see if that eased it a bit.
It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things any worse, either. 
I got the Derma cream under the arms, man breasts and forehead, which was silly because I’d not done the shaving yet. Tsk!
Then moved on and gave a good rubbing in of the Phorpain gel to both knees. To ease the pain from , and . Next, I got the olive oiling done down both earholes. Had a bit of an then. I dropped the dropper bottle and lost even more time cleaning the mess I made up. But worse, all the bending to retrieve the olive oil from the mat and floor, set the Cartilage gals, Arthur Itis and off. I then performed a short but natty, nasty version of a , which made me wobble and joined the list of injuries. And I hadn’t even tackled the dangerous parts of shaving and getting dressed yet!
Still, being of excellent pain tolerance, a twerp, and so brave with it, it didn’t worry in the least, not one bit! But I assume you already knew that?
Then , the costly Cataract Blepharitis application process had to be done. The spray is no bother, but the drops I just can’t hold my hands steady enough to get it in right. Doing the pads is okay. Then, I waited for the regulation for 5 minutes and wiped it all off again from the eyelids. I would estimate the cost of liquid I missed the eye with that ran down into my mouth and onto my testicles from my chin, not to mention poor Little Inchie; it must have been about ÂŁ10 worth every day I do this.  
Now, the shaving needs to be done. I wondered how long I’d already spent doing the ablutions. I reckon I was already over two hours and still had to shave and dress.
The shaving was cutless! Yes! But getting the PPs on more than made up for my good luck with the shaving. 
With either knee being liable to give way, my left leg is so painful to lift up. 
Always a risk and or possibility.
On routine, I set about the tried, tested, but often failing ‘get-the-pants’. I wedged my rear end against the sink, with at hand, and of course,
the small Plastic Pickerupper Paul. I was gobsmacked at how easily I got my right foot in the pants. Might not be so bad, I thought to myself… What a plonker!
I all but went over when I first tried to lift the left leg up high enough to get the foot in the pants. On about my third attempt, I was getting frustrated, to say the least. Not necessarily because I couldn’t get the foot in; this is a regular problem, but with the pain I was going through trying to! 
I tried one last time and was prepared that the pants would stay off if this did not work! Which, of course, is not on if Little  Inchies fungal Lesion bleeds, as it often does, hence the PPs in the first place; it could be bloody and embarrassing if a Carer or nurse was here when it flowed down my legs, over the catheter bag and pouch, onto my foot and then the carpet! 
There’s no other word for this; Lifting the leg with one hand holding the sink and the other with a picker-upperer and the walking stick was bloody painful! One final effort, a grimace, a few curses and both legs were in!
I was shattered! Aching all over. I felt like I’d been up for hours; in reality, it was about three hours of angst and pain, but at last, it was all over… until the morning, it’ll start over again!
Painkillers and some anti diarrhoea capsules were taken!
I actually chirped up a little later, Yes! Then again, I usually do if get on the computer, and even more so when the eyes are as clear as they can be, and I can see the keyboard and the letters. But at the back of my demented brain, I know that come midday, the double vision will return. (It did)  

Carer Richard arrived minutes after I turned on the computer. I patiently waited for CorelDraw to load up —no, that’s another fib. Richard got the medications sorted out, but I forgot to ask him to take of the diabetic sock, so it will have to stay on until tonight when a Carer can take it off if I remember to ask him or her. I bet it reeks a bit! 
I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bags into one. I left it near the door.
I returned to the computer and steadily progressed with the extra blog of old cartoons blog. Then, a sudden… well, fear came over me. Had I left the hot water tap running again? I hobbled hastily to check.
All was okay. After yesterday’s farcical, imbecilic three times of letting the tap run cold, my confidence was at a low ebb. I checked several times today, but up until now, I have not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. At least today, I got a wash and shave with hot water available. Despite spending nearly four hours in the wet room in agony, at least  I got the cleaning and medicating done. 
I had a mammoth, or maybe it was one of   . Or perhaps I fell asleep on the computer? Up to now, I’ve only had two ! 

The sun did its best to get through today, but it couldn’t do it just like yesterday.
I took this shot through the kitchenette windows.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I never got around to making one earlier.
I took the brew to my beloved but poorly computer and digested some of my favourite biscuits via a good dunking. Haha!
I like Yeo Valley organic milk and have tried it a few times. As instructed by the Doctor, I’m keeping within her demands that I have only two mugs of tea a day.

Arrived. A nice young gal. Showed concern at my wobbly walking. I explained the ablution episode and showed her a photo of yesterday’s burnt meal and saucepan. She did laugh!
I found some potatoes in the only saucepan I had left. Humph! They were well seasoned with sea salt, pungent soy sauce and a drop of vinegar to eat later.

Great balls of fire!
The bag tore off of the catheter pouch; it was so full!!! It had filled up so quickly.
It’s a darned good job that Carer Kara keeps a supply in stock for me.

Now I’ll have to pack up on the blogging. My vision is getting much worse.
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Back to finish off in the morning – I hope!

I’m back…
Carer Chris arrived. Tucked into the nibbles and drinkies, but he was in a rush, poor lad.
He turned down the heat on the oven. And I watched part of one episode of the old Heartbeat on the resistance to making a link, unwanted and needed, overpriced Virgin Media fibre TV.

I had a pastie, potatoes, and sliced fresh tomatoes for my meal of the day. 
Followed by a naughty but nice Lemon and cream Bliss.

I took this late shot while washing the pots and settled to get some sleep. It took me hours to nod off, yet my body and mind were worn out.

Tired? Me? YES!

TTFN each. 🤔 
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Incoercible Inchy: Thursday 11th July 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Possibly my most confusing day for weeks now.
In and out of control of things and happenings.
One late morning and Gawd knows how many more throughout the day.
I can’t recall being in such confusion for a long time.
I found out later that I’d placed an order for J Sainsbury. But it’s all a mystery to me. Looking at what I ordered really made me wonder how the hell, why, and when I made it.
I can’t help but occasionally worry about it and myself.

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It’s too dark yet again. It usually clears a bit later.

Taken while getting the Nocturnal Cather Pouch unattached. The white spot is the flash from Kodak Tim.

Made up a waste bag and hoovered around the main room. It’s that Inchy, you know, forever dropping crumbs, pens, torches, mobile phones (when he can find them), and anything else that is not attached to him is droppable, really.

Ablutions, medications & Porcelain Throne Visit(s)
I carried out another Whoopsiedangleplop after the first painful use of the Porcelain Throne – I forgot all about, or maybe I might have thought I’d done it, the shaving!
As with yesterday’s first attempt, the movement was showing no signs of any interest in escaping the depths of my heavily fabbed body and innards.
So, I got the crossword book out. Flipped it open and started on the random one. I also got a few answers; I got two more answers anyway. Then, the pain started, which again caught me by surprise. All the signs were that it was going to be a Trotsky effort. To take my mind off the pain, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling for a while. There were 27 cracks up there, I think. The pain suddenly reached a crescendo, and a tear came to my eyes; I gritted the few teeth I had left in my mouth, cringed and anticipated that a lot of blood would need cleaning up when it finally arrived. As it almost shot out, the pain eased, and the plump, plump… plumps were heard as the almost cube-shaped giant, Kharki-coloured Oxo cubes hit the water – to be followed by what I thought would have been the first things to exit… Whoosh, splatter, all done! I reckon it was controlled by 15% of Constipation Conrad; the rest was definitely a Trotsky Terence follow-through. This horrendous evacuation may have helped me forget I’d not shaved. 
The medicationalisationing went tremendously well! Getting the PPs on was not so easy. With the assistance of the small pick-upper I keep in the wet room and sticking my butt in the corner near the door for support, I was pleased with how I got the right leg in the pants so comfortably.
I had to lift my left leg with my left arm to get it high enough to go into the leg hole of the pants, keeping the pick-upper in the same hand to pull at the pants to get my foot in. One second, I was struggling to keep my balance. The next second, I clumped down onto the floor on my knees. This upset,  , , and in both knees, they let me know their discomfort in the usual fashion. Arrgh! didn’t seem too bothered by my tumble. This shows he’s healing up a bit.
Even crawling on all fours to the recliner to regain my feet was almost tolerable pain-wise. It took great effort to clamber up on the ÂŁ300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. I stayed there for a minute or two. As I grabbed , I’d left in the wet room and rose gingerly from the chair. Carer Christopher arrived. He seemed in a light mood, bless him. He got the one diabetic sock on and medicated me fully.
I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette. I took this Kodak Tim of the grim view on offer. I think the sun will struggle to get through today. As usual, my eyes were much better in the morning than in the afternoon. So I made a mug of tea and pressed on with yesterday’s blog while I could see well enough. By 10:30hrs, the double shadows started to kick in. Krunglebumps! But I did get the blog finished and posted.

FLAT FIRE ALARM: I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that the Fire Alarm went off. This was the first time it had activated since they installed the new, louder one, and I did not hear the old one when it was activated. I had a hobble around to check things in the other rooms, but all looked well. I imagine it must have been a test. Because no brigade or staff members had arrived to check things out. They may have changed the day of the tests. When I could get about, any changes used to be amended on the notice board in the foyer.

The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved. Carer Kara visited me. She opened yesterday’s mail, both letters were from the bank. Nowt to fret over, she said. She asked how I was feeling and checked the catheter bag. Kara kindly took the laundry bag down with her.

I returned to the wet room, determined not to have any more tumbles, to get the shave I forgot about earlier done. I had a Porcelain Throne Mark2 visit. No chinks this time, straight to the slushiness if a regular heavily Trotsky Terence commanded evacuation.
Well, at least I get diverse, multifaceted, distinct evacuations. Hehe!
Then, I tackled the shaving. There was just one tiny cut, nothing to bother about. It took me much longer than planned because I couldn’t find my spectacles after getting on the new nightshirt. (I found them later)

My eyes are fading now. I’ll make a meal while I can do it a little more safely before the eyes get worse. 

It’s not a bad effort visually. But the beef and I found both bits of it between the grizzled and fat, was disappointing, as was the so-called gravy. So much for ready-made meals! 
Thankfully, the potatoes that I baked to accompany it were superb. They were seasoned with black pepper and some of the adorable No-butter butter, but even this did not fill me.
So I backed up the sad-tasting but good-looking meal by delving into my favourite biscuit box! Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets. They were nice!

Carer Christopher arrived. He took off my one diabetic sock. Dealt out the medications, and then I asked him to take a photo of me in the new nightshirt.
Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways.
â‘  The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. ② The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” ③ And most uniquely, this is the only time anyone has caught me having two of my shakes on camera simultaneously. Bearing in mind that they are rare and usually do not last for more than a minute makes this all the more remarkable. I ought to be in the medical Gazette! Hehe!

I can hardly recall the details of Carer Chris’s last call. He woke me up but was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, she never stops her bemusing, irritating meddling with the synapses and memory cells. is to blame overall, I think. But I could be wrong, of course. Perhaps failing was involved in the brain invaders’ plot to send me into another world of confusion. For all I know… which is more guesses than estimates.

May Peace & Contentment surround you

TTFN.

Incidental Inchy: Wednesday 10th July 2024

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At 03:30 hrs, an electric shock woke me. I did notice as I lay there thinking of getting up, or at least the possibility of this, that the nocturnal catheter back had next to nothing in it. Then nodded off again. I stirred again back into mock-life around 05:00 hrs and was glad I did. The memory box had sent me a message that ‘we’ must get the ablutions done before anyone arrives. Not that I needed this thought prompt; the moment I whiffed my BO was enough to trigger me into frantic action.  
I rolled off the bed, stood leaning on the bed bar, wobbling for a few seconds, and then carried out the catching-my-balance routine. Which took at least three minutes of strenuous exercise. Hehe!
I considered doing a few press-ups, toes and a bit of shadow boxing, but the protection pants had come down and were hanging on the compression bandaging, and that caused me to forget about the physical jerks. It was true about the pants, though. Tsk!
I got a dressing gown on, and the innards instructed me to go to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. The evacuation was a half & half-style. It took a lot of effort to get anything moving. And not a little pain. I was convinced that Constipation Conrad was back in charge of the action. Thinking that this would take some time, I got the crossword book and started having a go at it. I was doing well, as well. Then came the rapid splurge of liquid evacuating; it was all over in seconds. Unfortunately, the mess it sprayed all over took me ages to clean up. There’s always summat goes wrong! And I’d only been up for 10 or thereabouts minutes! Then the morning ablutioning and medications were started.

I got the too-large PPs off and cleaned my lower regions first. Medicated poor old , and Germoloided the piles. Washed my torso; it’s not easy for me, you know! All that blubber around the middle and the getting gigantic man breasts, a hell of a painful job getting to things. Applied the barrier cream around my goolies, under my man breasts and armpits. Cleaned what few teeth I could find left in the mouth. And started shaving. Astoundingly… I thought I’d not have a single nick shaving. , but I should have known better than getting cocky. As I applied the Brut aftershave to my face and body and sprayed the gargantuan mass around my bones and belly, I caught my , knocking it over. I hit my head as I bent down on the sink and simultaneously stubbed my toe as I began to get up from lifting Mickey.
Of course, this didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I got on the computer and am new to this site. Carer Evelyn arrived. She issued the prescription medications, and Evelyn swapped the diabetic socks for me. I asked her to take the laundry down for me. Nice gal. But after she’d gone, the laundry bag was still there. Not to fret, she said she was doing the next call as well, as long as I remember to ask her again.

Onto yesterday’s blog catching-up. It was slow-going as the eyes began to play up with the double and treble visions again. It looks like the sun may come out later.

Carer Kara came to do the financials for me. She went through my emails and opened the letters I could not read. Things seemed okayish. She then kindly told me that the doctor’s surgery had rang her back about the problems with my eyes. I have to have my eyes tested first with an optician. Then, get a report on them from the surgery. Then, the doctor might refer me to the EENT for another operation on the Cataract and Glaucoma… or at least get me on the list for them. I waited 2 years for the last operation that didn’t work. My eyes are worse than they were before the procedure. Humph! 
Kara then called an optician who does home calls. The lady she spoke to said the home eye test would cost me £90. 
They will call Kara back after giving us a temporary date without a time of day for the visit and determining whether they can fill it. Kara put the date on the Google calendar for me. July 2nd. Carer Kara is as good as gold. 
I’m not chuffed with it, but it has got to be done.

Carer Evelyn, the washing has still not been taken. At the bin bag, oh, Carer took that, I think.

But make a meal, I’m really not feeling good.
TTFN!
Morning, I’m back.
The Caregiver called but still did not know where to take my laundry; the bag remains awaiting collection. I was in the right state when she arrived, so tired and exhausted.
I sorted out and ate the meal and settled in to watch the England Euro game. I fell asleep and missed most of it. Huh!

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Food Rating: 9/10!

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Ode From Fellow Blogger & Poet Paul.

Down Nottingham, there’s an odist called Gerald.
Whose smithing of words keeps us levelled.
He’s housebound but not gagged.
By his words bad leaders are scragged.
All of these make him our prophet and herald.

Paul wrote this in a comment. Nice!
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TTFNski, each!

Incapacity Inchy: Friday 5th July 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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From here on, this blog will be sparse… very much so. For my eyesight and memory seemed to go off so much earlier today. Having less than 2 hours of sleep did not help. Finding no logical reason for this irked me a smidgeon. I slowly got a lot more tired earlier today. Then, the double vision started. Shame really. But the nurse came and rebandaged the leg and ankle. The wound on spouted out with a flourish of thick, deep red fluids when the nurse took off the sealing pad. She was not pleased with that. She noticed the bruise on my chin, and I explained my Non-Epilectic Seizure and told her how I could not recall going into the wetroom and did not even know I’d taken a tumble or if I’d passed out or not. I just came around mangled in the shower chair with a bleeding gum, broken tooth, sore chin and a headache. She said for me to ring my doctor and her. I’ve gone out of sync again. 


I did not put the night pouch on last night, so heap-geep-coloured urine was in the nearly full-day day pouch.

My eyesight seemed pretty decent when I started writing the blog. But it faded quicker than usual.

Carer Maryham arrived, concerned about my looking so pale, and asked about the scar on my chin. I told her what had happened in my usual wit-interposed way. I got a good laugh back, which was my design. Hehehe! Maryham was concerned for me. Which was nice.


I watched a bit of TV for a while, including election results.


The trip to the wet room was a painful one. I thought yesterday’s was, but this was even worse.

!!!
The computer froze.

Then I got a message telling me things were being auto-mended. It was at it for two hours. I feared this was the end!

The District Nurse arrived. I was unhappy with the ulcer wound’s not healing at all. She also asked about the bruise on my chin, and I launched into a humorous explanation: ‘Ring your doctor!’

The computer was turned off because everything had frozen again. I was at a low ebb now.

Carer Kim came. We went through the same process, but I got a more significant response this time. Kim laughed so much.
‘Ring your doctor!’

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Amazing clouds as I made a brew of tea.
Then, the eyes finally got too bad, and I was about to pack up and restart in the morning, and Carer Chris came.
He medicated me and had to nip off. He was busy but looked so tired. Bless him.
I got some potatoes in the oven and then closed down the computer. Boy, was I tired!
For some reason, as I was cooking, my mind went back to Rationing. Many years ago, when I was on a fishing holiday with Bill, Malcolm and Jock, we had just arrived at Lockerbie in Scotland. I was backing the van into the car park, and Bill, a butcher, said out of the blue, “I wish they would bring rationing back; I made a fortune with all the fiddles…” It’s funny how I can recall this clearly, but I’d forgotten what I had planned earlier to have for my meal tonight. I think it was lamb burgers, but I found a short-dated vegan pie and had that.
I forgot to add the garden peas. The potatoes were grand, but the vegan pie was not so good, although the gravy was absolutely delicious!

Cleaned the pots and back to the ÂŁ300 second-hand shop bought, c1966 made. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. And spotted the scene outside of the sunset.
I thought I’d nip onto the balcony and take a Kodak Tim of it, which I did. Lens blotches included.

It was well past midnight before he let me into his world, a world that I was forced torn from by one of the longest-ever leg climbing I’ve had since they started three months or so ago. After which the ulcer emitted short, sharp, shocks, every ten-minutes it felt like, for the rest of the night.
had returned with a certain degree of nastiness and persistence.


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Have a good day, Tatty Bye!

Incandescent Inchy: Thursday 4th July 2024 Election Day, Expect a Massive Labour Victory

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and   complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning.
I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit . 

It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today.
Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.

Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.

I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!

Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.

Here are cloud photos taken over the day.


I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.

We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?

I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google. 

PN vs. MS vs. FND

Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy – Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness. 
 People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others.
Please read this, Doctor, Please!
I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!

It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.

Morning: Catch up on this blog.
A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’
I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for ÂŁ300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.

Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her! 

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Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.

Farewell, Mon Ami!

Imp Inchy: Wednesday 26th June 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I jerked awake and spotted the Gh, so colourful dollop of urine in the catheter this morning!
I got the night pouch disconnected from day one.
I pulled the soft plastic drainer tube off at the same time. Tsk! I didn’t realise this initially because I needed to visit the Porcelain Throne urgently!

I hobbled to the wet room, which took me longer than I thought. The ankle lesions and ulcers were giving me some grief, accompanied by regular electric shocks up the leg. Cartilage Chloe gave way a couple of times when I started limping, but she didn’t have me over this time. I knew this was going to be a painful day.
I swear it was slower and more painful than yesterday’s double torpedo evacuation was. A deeper shade poo in the basin, when flushed, stubbornly refused to go down to the sewer. Luckily, with my record of going between Constipation Conrad and Trotsky Terence so often, I keep some bamboo sticks to break it up in the wetroom, along with the speed-mop had it been Trotsys Terence’s turn, to tackle the excrement problems. It worked a treat; with a second twist of the handle and a loud regurgitating noise, it disappeared. Gorrit!

The Asda delivery arrived.
A pleasant driver put the food into my bags for me. That was a kind gesture, and I appreciated it very much. Thank you, driver! Four items were unavailable, and two had increased in price.
I started sorting out the products. My gorgeous lemon tartlets, bicarbonate of soda, milk, and Milk Roll sliced bread.
Lemon mousse, lemon yoghourts, No-Butter Butter (I think this tastes so delicious), meat pies, Lamb Patties (Carer Chris loves these), and MĹ«llers Lemon & Cream desserts.
Lamb-burgers (Richard likes these). And some potato chunks.
There was room for more after getting the fresh stuff in the fridge! Rare, that is.

I put some drinks in the fridge so the Carers and nurses can have a cold in this warm weather. I sorted the waste bags into one and placed them near the front door.

Carer Richard arrived.
Telling me off for calling Putin. Pointing out the things the West have done over the years. Hehehe! After he’d gone, I got on the computer and soon felt a warm, wet liquid running into my slippers.
The plaster the nurse put on yesterday was leaking bodily fluids. The burn and ulcer were leaking again. Humph!
I dried it as much as I could. It was difficult bending down so far, and Dizzy Dennis paid a visit. I cut some bandages from the roll, hoping to seal the leak, and thought I’d put them over the sterile pad. Of course, I used tape to hold them in place.
After ten minutes on the computer, the whole thing fell off the ankle and leg! I just put more tape on it, but it didn’t help. Still, a nurse is coming back on Friday. 

Carer Kara called next, with Trainee Carer Sham. It was the Financial call she was making at the same time. She gave me medications and applied cream under my arms and man breasts. Haha! Kara also saved the day over the lost catheter tube end. She took one off of the spare too-long day catheter and put it on to this day catheter. Then, Kara helped me with the three problems I’d been whittling over with messages and emails. I couldn’t follow what she was doing, but it only took ten minutes from start to finish; three worries were solved. Greattt! 

I’d better get some nosh made, then. I’ll take a Kodak Tim shot of the view first. Then, I can concentrate on the cooking and not burn myself. Maybe…

Two baked potatoes were halved with added non-butter butter, black pepper, and sea salt. Milk Roll sliced bread, sufficient to use one for each vegetarian sausage, to be wrapped in and dunked in the tomato sauce with pickle, pot. (Am I making you puke or hungry?) A pot of lemon mousse to follow. I even considered having some salt & vinegar crisps afterwards, but of course, my dedication to the doctor’s list of what to not eat is, as you know, sacrosanct to me, so I didn’t have any . Well… I only had one tub. (Ahem!)

After washing the pots, I swiftly hit the sack and drifted off into what I thought was a deep sleep. When Carer Israel woke me up, I knew it had to be a deep sleep because I hadn’t been woken by the door chime. And was only half aware of events or happenings. I recall feeling guilty and telling Israel to pick a nibble and drinkie as he left.

Zzzz! Back into the land of nod within seconds of Israel leaving. But it was not the deep sleep I love so much but rarely get; it was back to shooting awake every few minutes, reminded of my failings, ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, mistakes, errors, and so on that I’ve done over so many years by . He was so persistent and almost nasty with it that I got up and meandered around the flat, half-asleep. But discovered in the morning that I’d taken these Kodak Tims. Although they seem a little light, I presume I may have taken them earlier in the day. 
His disturbing fault-finding onslaught continued within minutes of my getting back to sleep.
But, of course, it wasn’t Steve at all. It was mind-immigrants and an extension of their mind-control techniques, which I assume indicates that I was doing it all the time. I didn’t realise I could be so cruel to myself. I am not to others.

I only got two.
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May any darknesses you have turn to heliotrope!

Impecunious Inchy: Tuesday 25th June 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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Sleep was initially no problem last night… Now, staying asleep was a horse of a different colour! I lost count of the times I detonated and burst into wakefulness! Although it was the most prolonged overnight period of skip that I’d had for a long time, I reckon actual sleeping amounted to a couple of hours at most. It was not a good start to the day; again, it worsened.
Humph!
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0545 hrs: I stirred, realising I was not lying in bed (I can be quick sometimes, Hehe!).. It only brought back last night’s farcical, demented, horrible series of calamities and Whoopsiedangleploppery to mind.
I offered up a quick prayer for things to get better today. The plea was not directed at any God, Devil, Witch, Oligarch, Compassionate alien, Sorcerer, Wizard, Soothsayer, or medical practitioner who could help me.

THE WET ROOM FARCE: There was not much hope or effort put into the plead for help, but it was something to do while I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne, awaiting Constipation Conrad to release the first of the morning’s two torpedoes. He fooled me completely this time. The first grindingly slow concrete submarine edged its way painfully out and plonked, with a clunk, into the WC waters. Relief flooded over me! A smile was almost coming over my face in thanks for completing the task at last and me getting rid of the associated pains!
However, a second missile assault developed that almost shot itself out of my rear end. It was quick, but I wasn’t prepared for the extra shot of pain it brought on. Tears developed. True!
When I saw the blood everywhere, I grabbed onto  and I stood up. It was almost a major operation getting everything cleaned up and medicated! Both cartilages, the ankle ulcer and even Arthur Itis, kicked off simultaneously.
This made me nervous. I was in the wet room, so I decided to get the ablutions done immediately. One cut shaving, no shower, and teggies were done. Next, medicating various parts was needed, which went reasonably well. Even the shaving cut was soon stopped.
Then, the real challenge: getting into the Protection pants!
It was easier to lift my right foot through the leg hole. It hurt, but I laughed it off, knowing the left one would be the most painful. I was right, too. But I didn’t think I was going to take a tumble. I was wrong on that, too! I tried resting the bum in the corner behind the door. This usually helps. (I was wrong about it this time), I used Picker-Upperer-Petal to move the PPs out so I could lift the left foot with the right hand to get it in the pants left hole… are you following this? Hehe!
During this, I noticed that the urine flowing from the Bladder to the Pouch looked awfully red. That was my mistake, taking my mind off of the challenge. I can’t explain how I managed to take the tumble, landing against the shower chair. I limped to the recliner on all fours, making the ulcer leak more and hurting the ingrowing toenails and cartilage. Chloe and Carole protested the only way they knew how to… giving me such pain that only agony would fit it.
Getting back on my feet was probably more painful than all the other incidents. Yes, it was!
I painfully put on the dressing gown and slippers. I was pondering whether I should have a brew of tea or not when ‘Oh Susan’ chimed from the door chime.
Carer Richard arrived. He didn’t particularly like the state of  Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich or the red and, as he put it, under the man- breasts. Hahaha! He told me not to wear a dressing gown, so I wore a tee shirt. It’s not the prettiest view for anyone calling on me. Bearing the catheter’s paraphernalia. He asked if I had any pyjama bottoms to put on. I was surprised he’d forgotten I can’t get trousers, socks or shoes on or off without help nowadays. He left a note on the whiteboard for someone to call the Doctor and District Nurses about the ulcer and ankle blotches later.

came with a new Carer, Sash, I think her name was. No, it was Sham. Kara was training up the new gal. She checked the catheter and called the Doctors about the red patches underarm and, as Richard said, Men-Boobs. Hahaha! She said I am to keep on with the Terbinafine cream for the arms and titties. Then she looked at the leg swelling, ulcers, and new growths. Then she called the District Nurse’s place. They will be sending a Community Nurse to look at them later on. 

A few PN electric shocks joined the ulcers and swellings, bothering me.
It’s an excellent job that the Cartilages have both calmed down somewhat. I may well regret saying that, of course.

Carer Christopher arrived. He gave me some Peptac and a painkiller and looked at the state of the legs with the dressing now on the ulcer. And got carried away with Kodak Timing them all.

Chris noted that new growth was coming up in the left leg.

Then, that the padded plaster was not sealed and was leaking fluids. He soon put that right for me as well. I think he just enjoyed giving me pain, Hehe! 

Were increasing in frequency now.
Chris put some ointment on the Man-Breasts and underneath each of my arms. He’s a good lad! And he likes his treats, too. I gave him his choice of a cold drinkie from the fridge, and his pockets secured some nibbles.

I’d better get some food sorted before the England match on TV. I’ll be back later, probably in the morning.

Good Morning! I got it wrong again. The England match is tomorrow (tonight). But no! A double cock-up from Inchie! I got the dates wrong again. And the Doctor told me my getting Arithmaphobia is not the end of the world! England’s match was on, and apart from not realising it, I also slept through and missed the other matches! Grumph! Grump! Gragnagles!

MEAL COCK-UP! I thought I ought to have some of the Air Fry crinkle chips I ordered in error months ago to make room in the freezer. So I did. I threw the rest of them away afterwards. Amazingly, some tasted okay, and others were too hard to cope with my lack of teeth. 
Then it dawned on me… I’d cooked them in the oven! It could happen to anyone, of course. But the odds of it being me must be very short!

I took this evening’s view, complete with blotches. Slightly miffed with myself.

I nodded off into sweet, Thought-Storming-free, precious oblivion. Although  were not letting up, particularly the right ankle with the burst ulcer on it, Carer Chris did the last call. Chris seemed keen to get home, bless him, and not to disturb me too much. So he sorted me out in the darkness and put some tape on the wadding on the ulcer that had already come off and leaked the fluid all over my foot during the kip.

I found it in two seconds!

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TTFNski, Folks!

Impatient Inchy: Sunday 9th June 2024 – Gloom!

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’m sorry, but it’s another quickie blog. I’m afraid I got the depression glooms in the afternoon. I feel sorry for myself, and the Cartilage injury makes any movement painful. I think I may have to go to the hospital in the morning if there is no improvement. It’s a miserable day for a miserable Inchy! Grumpy, self-hating, and lonely curmudgeon. Hehe!

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Scary colour. Mind you, with the tumble, expected.

Late morning shots.

Feeling moppy. Got on with the blogging.

Med-morning urine – definitely blood in there!

Forced Missen to tidy the bed.

Took three snaps from the balcony Ahead, down and right.

The sun was covered for a while.

Put this old graphic on for some reason, or maybe it was no reason. Can’t think why.

Oh, dearie me. I felt the wet, warm sensation emanating from the Little Inchies area. The fungal lesion was bleeding now,
Took me ages to clean the lesion and stop the flow.
Then, the depression started.

I made a CorelDraw graphic using part of one I made last month. Was I trying to get a laugh, maybe?
I could do with getting one.

I missed the star, Humph!

Got some rostis & last of the fresh vegetables in the oven.
Turned off the computer. Feeling sorry for myself again.

I got an email from Lisa-Ellie. Such an angel she is. That made me feel guiltier at how I felt. ♥♥♥ All she copes with, I wonder what her star sign is?

I did make a little in preparing this one.
I forgot that the beef was in black beans, and I also cooked some vegetarian sausages. Ah, well, I ate it all up!
Yummylishious!

I got the things washed up and snuggled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, ageing, whiffy, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige-coloured, anti-sleep I designed,  c1966, second-hand bought, for ÂŁ300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I tried to stay awake so that I’d hear the door chime when the carer arrived to take my socks, attach the nocturnal bag to the day catheter bag, and slip me some painkillers. 

Apart from the odd few minutes of nodding, I stayed awake. I even turned the TV on, so the light from it helped me not to nod off. It was getting harder to resist temptations, so I rose from the ÂŁ300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner and into the kitchenette, taking this shot.
But all was in vain! The Caregiver did not turn up, the same as last week. I must remember to check the bill when it comes in. But these things happen, as they did last week as well. He/she may have taken ill or had an accident.

Took me belatedly into his grasp!

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Arrivederci!

Limping Inchy: Wednesday 8th May 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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04:15hrs: The start of what was going to be a busy day.
I got the nocturnal pouch off of the catheter, and my mind wandered to last afternoon’s computer cock-up with the unknown message that informed me that WordPress could not access Jetpack, whatever that is, and would not let me save my work. Heres the wakkle that filled across the screen each time I tried to save the blog…
I was washing last night’s things in the sink and had to stop. I needed to know if WordPress would work again, so I got the computer on, added a bit, and then tried to save it. Goodness Gracious Me—it did! I got all excited and got on with doing the work I’d done yesterday, again, as it was lost into the ether when Jetpac interrupted me so rudely. A long slog, but Putin may take the bother away shortly. 
Many hours later, got up to where I was before (yesterday) and realised I’d not taken a single photo yet, so I thought I should, so I went off to the kitchen. Would you believe this… I’d left my hot water tap (faucet) to run cold! My joy and excitement at finding the miracle of WordPress working faded to pointlessness. Boy, I was so angry with myself. This was made worse by the fact that I had no had a wash or shave, never mind a shower, in my haste to check the computer. Not a good start to the day anymore! 

I did take one photo, mind you. I’d hoped to get the two houses being reroofed and extended together—the left and right dwellings. I may not be checking very often, but I can’t recall seeing any worker at either house all week. 
Carer Shaquille arrived. After I got my medications done and my socks fitted, I got back to Google and blogging. Another two hours or so later, the Iceland order arrived. The first photo was taken as I was putting the food away on the right. Fancy drinks and a Pina Colada for the treats. Kitchen towels, salt, and how kind of Iceland. They sent part flattened, part squashed wholemeal sliced cobs. The bag they were at the bottom of had bleach and a large bottle of tomato ketchup on top of the cobs. Humph!
The second photo shows grated strong cheeses, a Cornish pastie, and a few beef slices on the offer price, which looked very nice on the packet, but they had also been pre-mangled. Next snap; the Warburtons sliced Milk Rolls had been manhandled and misshaped in advance, too! The 8 large pork sausages, I was most surprised when I made the order; over £1-50 off of the normal price; great, I thought. Putting them in the fridge, I realised their use date was today! Iceland certainly conned and mistreated me today. I felt more than a smidge irked by being treated like this. 
I struggled to get the chips and bread into the freezer. A lot of taking out of and reshuffling was needed, but I eventually got them all in.
A lot of bits and mess from the freezer drawers fell out on the floor while making room. 
I took the made-up waste bag to the front door and back to check the kitchen. The floor needed to be hoovered and mopped again. Iceland… Grrr!
Had a massive-long ‘Out-Of-It’ Carer arrived, then Carer Kara, that much I know. But recalling what happened is impossible.
Hazey, confused, and uncertain about anything.
When the ladies left, I was still working on the blog, but it felt as if I’d been sleeping, nodding off all the time. I did once mention this to a nurse, who patiently listened to me as kept looking at her wristwatch. I think I gave up.
It was Carer Israel’s turn to call. I gave him some drink and nibbles of his choice. I’m sure I was nattering to him all the while once he’d finished the medications, but what of?

I pressed on with the blog, but all the breaks along with the Mind Blanks, meant when I got back on WordPress, there were so many errors, it pee’d me off!
I stopped to take these two views of the amazing sky.
I got the sausages out ready for when the oven heats up. I opened the packet of chopped tomatoes, put them in the saucepan, and salted them, adding a bit of basil to tang them up.
Saved all the work and closed down the computer 

I took a snap off the meal. No SD card. 

 

In Agony Inchy: Tuesday 23rd April 2024, Arrgh!

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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That should have been a Pooper at the top, Sorry!
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The three medical outings in five days have left me with immense pain from the tubing being moved, tugged and adjusted by the medical staff, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding is giving out pain like never before.
It’s wearing me down so persistently. I’d like to explain what actions were taken here in case I forget it later.
When she came, I explained the pain to Carer Kara. She kindly rang the District Nurses and advised them of my dilemma.
As Kara was rushing off, they called back. I handed the mobile to Kara as my ears were not picking up what whoever rang was saying. It was a Nurse who gave the fantastic advice: “Tell him to take Paracetamol.” (Surely they know I’m on the maximum permitted every day, anyway?) “We are calling on the 30th anyway!” Great, a 7-day wait for pain relief. I am taking an extra Codeine 30g of it, but I do not feel too happy about it, even though they do not help much either. The chance of getting side effects will be multiplied if I take more than prescribed… I’ll look them up while I think about it. Here they are with explanations as to how they affect me personally.
Constipation: Dead right there! Spot-on!
Feeling sleepy: Check!
Confusion: (Unable to concentrate or think clearly muddled thoughts): I have been like this for two years!
Feeling dizzy and vertigo: Yes, both; I call them Dizzy Dennis and Balance Bothering Brenda.
Dry mouth: Yes!
Headaches: Nope!

Anaphylaxis: This is a life-threatening allergic reaction that happens very quickly. It can be caused by food, medicine, or insect stings. Call 999 if you think you or someone else is having an anaphylactic reaction. Symptoms of anaphylaxis happen very quickly. They usually start within minutes of coming into contact with something you’re allergic to, such as food, medicine, or insect stings.
Well, that’s as clear as mud.
But I’m taking another one, no choice, I can’t bear this pain!
That’s handy. There are only two Codeine tablets left in the Carers pot on the desk, and I can’t find any in the medical drawer in the kitchen. Hopefully, some may be due soon. I’ll get in a tizzy if I run out, which I did in the morning!

Good colour.

Morning view.

Much painful urging was needed.

My food order arrived.
Spring water.
Carers, nurses, treats.
Food Glorious Food!

Carer Marie arrived, helped me put the last few things away, and checked some dates.

The pains from the catheter were even worse today! Concentration is done in.

Sky photos were taken frequently as I made a mess of blogging. The pains eased a smidge when I got stood? 
Ever-changing views of the clouds.
Do you see the face?
Faces again.

As I was getting the meal sorted.

Carer Christopher came while I was imbibing the nosh. 
Can of tomatoes with tomato & Mediterranean vegetable sauce. Sea salted, and Milk Roll bread dunked. Some cheap bacon misshapes cooked in the oven were added.
Christopher got the sock off for me.

I’m not sure when I took this Kodak Tim shot.
But it looks gorgeous.

TTFN.