Duodenal ulcer

Aquaphobic Inchy: Saturday 21st September 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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MY WAKENING OVERVIEW: Carer Chris woke me up. I was in a terrible condition. Confused, & Dizzy. Initially, I did not have the foggiest idea where I was… it took a while to glean who I was. I genuinely thought I’d kicked the bucket. Then I found I could not get up! I asked Chris to leave me where I was. I wanted to sleep, but I sat there for five more hours. Just think about things and my various sad conditions. Sweet Morpheus ignoring me.

Reality meant nothing for this period. 

I was suddenly feeling wide awake and brave enough to stand up – but Cather Chloe brought me back to semi-certitude as she gave way, and I clumped down on the left knee. Even more time was lost in getting back up. Thankfully, the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner was feet away and utilised it to get me back up on my feet, albeit somewhat painfully and shakily. I thought about pressing the wristlet alarm. Something wasn’t right about how I felt. But what could I tell them? I didn’t press for help. I really think now I ought to have. The sudden semi-recovery in my awareness kept disappearing and returning for the rest of the day. 
We were having a heyday with me. These persisted from when I got up to when I settled in bed 18 hours later. ; As for him, he didn’t give me a break at all; he’d moved in permanently. 
I added a few notes to the other things concerning me for whenever I can get to see the Doctor.
However, the severity of these ailments did lessen as the day went on – well, apart from.
Sunday morning now, not a lot of details remain. But the waking-up routine has stayed with me. Recollections will be limited due to a lack of time during the day after getting up late. I’m in a state, mate.
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Too dark!

Not sure when this was taken. Not many photos were taken this morning.

Presumably, he took these before and after the ablutions. The old man got up so late that he had to do them late, around 17:00 hrs. But why did he? 

Evening snap.

Two ready-made meals in one large bowl!
A beef in rich stour gravy (cook in the pouch) and a Beef Casserole. Last of the Danish bread and a Lemon flavoured yoghourt to follow.

When I got into bed, I hoped for the best. I feared another night or morning like the last ones, with me out of it and incapable of standing up. Fingers crossed!

Then, the lightning started. I moved from the bed to the 
£300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner, so I could see the distant lightning that covered the whole horizon, beautiful! 
Then, I decided (another stupid decision) to get the camera to try and catch a shot of the lighting.
Of course, I couldn’t; the lightning was gone when I hit the take-button, it had gone.

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TTFNski, each.
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Gonglehead Inchy: Friday 20th September 2024

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On the right here is an admirer of Mr Clough, ‘Cloughie’. It’s Inchy. Taken this morning… with him actually smiling! Yes! Well, very nearly, anyway. That’s a rarity to be seen nowadays for the old fart to be doing. I imagine the old man was either high on drugs or Dementia Doreen was toying with him. Either way, the poor sod did not know how the day was going to go, obviously. Had his EQ or Alto Ego Inchie warned him, there would have been no smile on his face! He may well have been spitting blood & crying, too. 
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I didn’t get around to this blog until 17:20hrs.
I could do with some magic powers…
I’ve lost hours and hours...
Not though my fault; it angers!
I’m sick of the bad-luck adducers,
Still, I suppose it will get worse…
How can I free myself from this curse?
A plea for help is this verse!
Or at least see another nurse…
A short one today, on & on, he bleaters!
Hehehe!

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A little lighter today?

The most frustrating evacuation of the week!
Sheer agony, as the moulded-together clumps of product crept out so painfully slowly. I felt sure something was going to get ruptured during this session. The Germoloid cream was clearly visible in the almost black escaped mass.  
I stayed seated for a while, letting the pain ease, which it did in a couple of minutes. Then, I firmly grabbed the grab bars to raise myself from the WC.
My hand caught the pink spray bottle of foam cleaner on the rail. I sprayed myself, the porcelain, the cabinet and the floor as I had a kerfuffle in trying to stop it from falling on the floor and bursting open. As I stood there weighing up my lousy luck and how best to clean it and my rear end up. I got a short bolt from , followed within seconds by a few . Never had two so close before, so I was not ready for the second one. It was only for a few seconds; it was as if I’d blinked and woken to find the pink spray bottle lying on the floor and leaking! Not a good start to the day! Then again, I should be used to them by now! But for some reason, I was riled by this Accifauxpas. Even more rileder after all that bending down had got kicking-off.

I decided that an early mug of tea might lessen my woes, so I went to the kitchen and thought I’d take a snap of the dank, misty morning. I stayed that way all day. However, I took this unintentional picture of the window ledge first. Clever that, how I didn’t realise. Ha-ha!
Then I moved into position, hanging out of the window to take the morning view.
Getting back in, I very nearly swore!! I stubbed my ingrowing toenail toe under the heater. It still hurts!

Carer Maryham arrived and tried to ring the Community Nurses to order more day and night bags for me. But I’d given her the wrong number. She’d run out of time then, so she had to scoot off. She said she would ring them later and let me know how it went. I haven’t heard anything. She may be doing it tomorrow because I did tell her I had some left to use, but I’d like to keep the stocks up now that Kara is not calling. That was good of her.♥ She noticed me holding my arm and looked at it, taking a photo of it. More about that later.

Carer Joanne came later with the medications that had been ordered. She was in a rush, but I remembered to ask her how her visit to the urology unit went. She’s still waiting for the results from Tuesday. Nice gal. ♥

I got back to the blog work. There was a massive cock-up, which began then!
I was doing what I had been doing: posting pictures taken with the camera, sized, and titivated on CorelDraw to the WordPress blog. I’d done about four of them, and on the fifth, they were disappearing. I got them in the file, but they did not appear on WordPress. At first, I was not too bothered, as I recalled last week, forgetting to convert them to JPG. So, I went back to CorelDraw to make sure… While checking on the graphics… The screen filled with so many messages about the computer being short of memory came up on the screen. The depression was instant!
I then spent four hours trying to clear stuff, but after my last two manual clear-ups, when I lost hundreds of files I needed for the blog, I was nervous about doing it again.
I supposed they were triggered by the tension I felt. I couldn’t continue with the manual clear-out. After each seizure, I was lost, confused as to what I was up to or had already done. 
Then CorelDraw froze on me. Sister Jane rang me; it seemed that the Carers had called her to tell her about the whatever it is red spots on my swollen right arm. I said it was nothing and I’d put cream on it, and it is hardly noticeable now. Then she told me I was eating far too much! I’m happy she rang me all the same. Hehehe! We had a natter, and Jane told me how things were at her end, which I enjoyed. 

Then it was back to the computer problem, which caused more time loss. Ultimately, I had to pay for a CCleaner for the computer, which required another hour of downloading and installing! There was no financial help. I can’t even get on the bank’s site on my own.

By now, the day was coming to an end!.
But after running it, CorelDraw started working again! Hurrah! So, I was making a start on this blog at long last, and Carer Christopher arrived. He pointed out that I had no diabetic socks on. He was right; I’d forgotten to ask Maryham and Joanne to get them on. Tsk! Another fine day!
It’s too late for me to bother now.

I’m going to get the oven on. I’ve been at the problem sorting for too long. I’ve missed both Heartbeat episodes on TV. I just found out the day catheter bag was like carrying a football bladder on my leg, and I emptied it hastily. I will now turn on the oven to make some chips to go with bacon sandwiches. I hope Jane doesn’t read this. Har-har!
I hope to be back to catch up in the morning.


Well, that didn’t happen!
I slept for about seven hours when Carer Chris woke me up.
I’ll explain if I ever get a blog done tomorrow.
I’m finishing this because of whatever it was that made me; I just could not get out of bed for hours and hours! About 12:00hrs. It’s Saturday now, 15:00hrs and I’ve only just got up to start to finish this blog, let alone make a start on tomorrow’s WordPress blog. Back to Friday…

Evening photo.

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TTFNski

Wuggabugger Inchy: Thursday 19th September 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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After a wonderful night’s sleep of about an hour, the Fire Alarm went off. Oh, I am a fool. I’ve already written about the alarm in yesterday’s blog. At the time of starting this writing (15:20 hrs), I’ve already dealt with some of the expected visitors. And must now find the stamina and desire to continue until the last callers arrives. Only the cardiac murmur nurses left to  arrive. Then maybe, I think, the TV Bailiffs may come. ‘At any hour of any day’, as they put it in their letter. Mind you, I also forgot about Window Cleaner Joe coming today. Talk about being confused… well, you weren’t, but I was. Haha!
I had so many people calling and ringing up throughout the day. I think Concentration Conrad enjoyed it.
I’ll have to do another quick job. I don’t know when the Nurses will arrive, so I’ll get on with the photos. I fang You!

The urine was not so dark, but then again, I got woken up by the alarm, and I ferreted around each room to find the cause. So it was like a morning exercise for me. No luck—HAHAHA! No luck, as if I needed to tell you that!
Got the ablutions tended to. No chance of getting back to sleep… sleep? Sleep? Oh, yes, I remember it now.

Oh! Nothing has moved all day yet.

Then Window Cleaner Joe arrived. I opened the door, and the moment I saw him, I remembered that he was due today. Tsk!

Carer Christopher arrived. It got me medicated, and the diabetic sock is on for me. I told him of my struggle last night to get the lid off the beetroot jar. Carer Israel called, and he took of the cap without any bother. I can remember the times when everyone would bring such problems to me to solve. Things change.

I started working on yesterday’s blog update, which I was still working on hours later when Carer Kimberley visited. I asked her if she could call the nurses to order more day and night catheter bags, impressing the short-leg version, and ask for some of the muslin pouches if available. I gave her the wrong number; Kara used to sort everything out. Kimberley, but no one has told her, and I couldn’t advise her. They told her to ring a number. But she didn’t have time. I thought she was doing the Health & Bank (Not that she can, until Kara swaps the names with the bank). Kimberley said she’d ring them later. Thank you, gal.

I’m back on the blog, but with all the Catheter and Bank problems, along with worrying about the nurses and the TV License team calling, concentration was minimal.

The Deep Vein Thrombosis nurse came next; she was in and out quickly, taking my best pen with her! Took blood and my pen! Hehehe!

Then, the Iceland order arrived.
Four items were substituted. 
One of them was the mini-plum top mates. They’d substituted a pack of four heavy, underripe tomatoes bigger than golfballs. They were that heavy, which indicates little juice but plenty of flesh… I took care not to drop any when putting them away. They would probably break a toe if they landed on my foot. Good job. I’ll get a drill and hacksaw. (Sarcasm)
I did get ready and microwaveable beef meals in rich stout gravy. I’m having one tonight if I ever get the unstarted blog done. Head spinning, I sorted the other stuff out.
After jiggling the products to make room for them, I got the bread into the freezer.

The Cardiac Nurses arrived. I greeted them with a smile and Good evening. They got me on the bed, stripped my top half, and set up the worryingly technical-looking scanner system. It only took about 40 minutes, and it was all done. I had to keep silent and not move during the process. Me! Not talk or move for all that time! shook a bit, and they had to start again. I may have sulked a little when they told me off for moving. Haha!

The print-out must have been 6ft long on the machine. The nurse with the lovely stubby legs said they do not do analysis; that’s done at the hospital. I will get the results tomorrow. They were kind enough to take a nibble and drinkie. I love to thank them that bit special.

1710:hrs: I’m on with the blogging up to here. But I need food and, even more importantly now, sleep.

Carer Chris kindly didn’t disturb me too much during his last call. He took the socks off, and no medications were needed. I think we had a little natter.

Forced myself to get up and get the belated nosh sorted out.

pillock

I did better with the earlier sunset photo, though.

Finally, I got onto the bed for a glorious uninterrupted
7 hours of blissful sleep!
Waking up was the problem. Hehe!

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I got two in twenty minutes. Swim & pool.

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Fare & Fair thee all well!

Intricate Inchy: Wednesday 18th September 2024

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After a three-day test of my IQ & EQ, if I passed, I would be permitted to apply for an interview with UPS at their first opening in the UK at Sandiacre. Each failed testee (one of whom was me) was spoken to and given advice on their best job opportunities elsewhere, which they thought would suit us each. I was the last one to be called into the office. Three men sat at a desk and informed me that my rest results over the three days revealed that I had the lowest IQ ever recorded by any UPS applicant, and they have been doing this method of applicant sorting all over the world for 35 years. The directors of UPS were in the building and asked me if you would mind them having a talk with you? Naturally, I was confused, but I agreed. In walked two men with deep southern American accents and shook my hand? What’s going on here? I said to myself. It didn’t take long to find out, and I was amazed at the same time. The top dog man proclaimed that my EQ was the highest they had ever encountered in the USA and Europe! They handed me the advice print-out sheets, and as they confused me more with their questions, I bluffed my way through the answers, and off they went. Then the English chaps went through the advice with me. The job they recommended to suit my skills (more like lack of) was in the Police Force! Considering that it was donkeys years ago when Nottingham Constabulary would not entertain anyone under 6 feet joining them, how the men hadn’t noticed I was only 5’3″ tall baffled me even further. But a new urgent task took over, and I thanked them and departed. I went to the roof car park, got in my Skoda Estelle, drove home, got in, and got onto my computer to look up what EQ was.
My lack of education caught up with me!
I wandered off of the subject there, sorry!

I’d fallen asleep last night in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner.
The nocturnal catheter bag was removed, and I was shocked at the darkness of the urine again. There were little bits of something in the bag, like dried mint or oregano. (The district nurse rang up later to say that the Warfarin DVT blood test showed a deficiency. No idea what it was of. But they would call between 09:00> and 11:00hrs in the morning to take another blood sample from me for urgent testing.) This means that in the morning, I’ll have even less time to complete the blog. It’s 20:00 hrs now, and this is as far as I am with the blog! There is no chance of finishing even this one, let alone starting on tomorrow’s blog!
Why? I’ll tell yers!
1️⃣ Tomorrow, I have a food delivery arriving. A Cardiac nurse or nurses are coming to inspect the mechanical aorta valve in my chest. The community nurse or nurses will come to get another blood sample to test for the deficiency. Someone from the bank will be telephoning  me between 10>13:00hrs. 
5️⃣ Worst of all, the TV Licensing Enforcement wallahs are coming at an undeclared time of the day about prosecuting me, and no doubt threaten me with the £1000 fine!
How can I get anything done? From now on, I will have to put snaps with comments on them. Sorry.
Oh, Bother! Carer Kimberley said someone may be coming to see me tomorrow. Unbelievable!
Another painful visit.

Shots from the balcony.
Or was it the kitchen?

Waste bags sorted.

Carers Shaquille, Marie, Kimberly, and Israel served me this wonderful Wednesday. It wasn’t, but you can bet it will appear so compared to tomorrow’s football match. I may actually end up with 10 people here at the same time. Hahaha! Scary!

No wash, got on the computer to catch up. But, of course, I just get further behind.

I dropped a handful of paper towels, bent down to retrieve them, and Dizzy Dennis gave me a turn. I didn’t hit the deck because I was lucky enough to clout my head on the heater. Now the new spectacle frame has an arm loose.
Fed Up? Me? YES!

Back on the computer between the Carers calls.

I’m not pleased with this week’s health check figures!

Two unknown what or why photos were taken today.
It beats me! Then, most things do.

I did it again! Put the wrong cream on the wrong ailment.
ARRGH!

Must make summat to eat now.
I may be back, but with my luck,
you never know! Haha!.

I wonder if I’ll ever get time to blog again and onto the WordPress Reader?
I can’t believe so many visitors will call on the same day, and then there are the Caregivers to squash in.

Oh, cobblers! In fact…
Oh, Cobblers!
I can’t get owt to eat, and the Amazon batteries for the keyboard haven’t arrived yet! It’s dark and late, and I’m wee’d off with life’s waywardnesses and difficulties.
Still, Chin-up! I suppose!

Took this snap.

Stayed up until 02:00hrs to get this far on the blog.

Then, I made a meal.
Tasty!
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(Carer Israel came earlier)
Got in the bed and went into the bliss of sleep.
No Thought Storming-Steve, no shocks, no tingles, just sweet peace… For an hour! Then…

Frit me, that did! About 04:00hrs.
I had no option other than to clamber hastily out of bed and hobble around in case of a fire. It was this flat’s alarm, so I looked around everywhere. At one point, the long nocturnal catheter and tube got stuck as I meandered around the flat. Poor Little Inchie took the brunt of the pain as the tube jerked. That was the end of my night’s (Hour-long) sleep.
I stayed up and did my ablutions.
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Cheers!

Absurdismismistic Inchy: Monday 16th September 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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A totally different day today.
Many ailments went on strike.
But not Back-Pain-Brenda, Balance-Bending-Belinda, or Dizzy Dennis. These three made the day as bad as the others with their persistence and Inchy-hating habits!

The night bag of urine was terribly dark again.
The BP was an astonishing 159/75!

As I was taking this pathetic shot of the view…
My innards gave out a blast like I’ve never known before.  
I felt sure that a wet, messy evacuation was due.

I was so wrong!
I squatted for what seemed to me an hour, trying to get the evacuation to start. Painfully, too! Nothing!

Started on the blog catching up.
Went to make a brew, and I tried again to take a shot…
Ah, This one was better.

Carer Richard arrived; he was back on the crutch again. He sorted and issued the medications and then checked on the medication stocks. 

Blog progress was plodding.

Carer Chloe came. She helped me with the Liberty-Global fibre TV, which I could not get to come on. ‘No Signal’ messages each time I tried. She pointed out what needed doing and wrote it down for tonight. Thanks, Chloe!

My second windy blast extruded from the rear end… I made my way to the Porcelain Throne again. I spent a day or two doing my best, but no action! Gave up again!
Had a wash & shave
and readjusted the day pouch’s bag. I went into a Smug Mode momentarily.
Just look at that on the left. No shaking, no fizzes when I bent down… Incredible as this was, I considered the possibility that I’d snuffed it without realising. Hehehe!

I went back to the computer and used CorelDraw. I got a call from Sister Jane, which was lovely. When I returned to the computer an hour later, Dizzy Dennis was back, joined by Back-Pain-Brenda, and misery overcame me. No depression. I took a painkiller as Brenda was vicious with it now, and as I took the Codeine, Toothache Tiffany put her oar into the equation. Luckily, I had a new pot of the £599.00 per 100 ml Toothache pain relief spray. I didn’t spare any. A good spray was applied to all the offending teeth, and after 15 minutes, the pain lessened to a capable level.

When emptying the catheter day pouch again, the colour concerned me somewhat. As a rule, by midday, the shade gets lighter, but not today.

I wondered, well, hobbled into the balcony for a look around. 
It was not raining then, yet a little mudslide appeared at the end of the car park.

I took a snap straight ahead.
I thought I heard the door chime. No one came in, so I grabbed Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, and approached the front door. Nobody was there, so I returned to the front room…  
I discovered that in my haste to get to the door, in case it might have been the TV licencing bullies at the door, I’d knocked over a bottle of partially drunk soda water. The cap had dislodged, and I had a mini-lake sinking into the carpet!
Now, the depression started! I thought the day had started too well for me.
I cursed a little as I dried the carpet as best I could. Another hour of the day lost. Harrumph!

The sun came out momentarily. I grabbed the Kodak, went into the kitchenette, and took what I thought would be a decent photograph of the Sun.
As you can see, I got it wrong again! This new Kodak doesn’t like the sun ashing at it. I can’t find a red-spot reduction option to turn on anywhere in the camera.

Carer Promise arrived. I was looking at clocks with a date, time, and day showing on them when Precious called. I’d just found one that ran on batteries. He said he could set it up for me when he called again. Thanks, mate!
So, I ordered one from Amazon.

I took a break from getting nowhere fast with this blog and took this snap of the left balcony window. It’s not too bad this time.

I looked up what to expect from the enforcement officer’s arrival. This is what I found out. I tried to make a funny graphic as a header for a laugh.

Carer Promise did his last call. He’s off for a few days now. A nice lad.

22:00hrs: Worn out, hoping Toothache Tiffany leaves me alone. I’m going to get summat to eat now.

A cold, no-cooking meal for Inchy tonight.
Vinegar crisps, beetroot, tomatoes, onions, pork loin sarnies with ultra-tasty No-Butter butter.

Followed by a pot of Oikos lemon yoghourt.

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Cheers, Each, thanks.

Abessive Inchy: Sunday 15th September 2024

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BONUS CARTOONS
I LOVE THESE!
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Nocturnal Urine, too dark again.

Must get the quilt washed somehow.

Blue morning.

Constipation this time. Tsk!

The hook slipped off of the shower curtain again this morning. I couldn’t reach up to put it back on.
Another mess, water sprayed all over.

Rain again.

Late nosh. Not so good.

Series of late afternoon shots of the sky.

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We’ve gone beyond reality...
Architectonically…

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TaTa for now
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Allotriophagy Inchy: Friday 13th September 2024

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Good Morning. 7 hours in bed, possibly 4 hours of sleep.
was the main culprit. 
I’m posting a shorter version today, although it was busy. Very little was on the reminder notepad, which was rampant throughout the day. I’m using photos as reminders. But no doubt, the news will be chronologically out of sync. And details may be a bit unreliable. So, I’ll leave out anything I am not sure of. Or mention the uncertainty.

Missed the night pouch; I had this on the SD card.

Morning Views.

The urine was flowing well.

Later cloud photos. From the kitchen.

Massive seizures, mind-blanks, and ‘Out-of-its’.
I had to look up the names on the log-in book of the caregivers who called until I came around about 17:00 hrs.
Things stayed in my mind a lot easier after this. It was when Carer Chris arrived for the teatime visit. He knew somehow that I’d had a problem, as he said I was stuttering and stammering when he first arrived, then returned to my usual self. Very perceptive, lad.

Medications were issued, and he made sure I took them. Feeling a lot easier now. I
decided not to watch ‘Heartbeat’ but to get a good shave and shower session. 
Boy, what a change this time. Showering, shaving, medicating bodily areas in need, and shi… using the Porcelain Throne, then getting the PPs on has taken a minimum of 2 hours, one day 3! for the last ten visits, I think. Yet today, including the messy visit and cleaning up, I was out in… wait for it… one hour & 20 minutes! 
Super-great! But the quality of the shave left a lot to be desired. As I was drying off, I felt a load of stubble on the neck that I’d missed and found a few nicks that needed the application of the Brut aftershave to stop them from bleeding.

Carer Chris came for the last call. He removed the diabetic socks and his medications. We had a little natter, but I’m unsure what it was about.

When Cgris had gone, I got a second wind from Gawd, who knows where, and I titivated the kitchenette floor with the fancy speed mop. 
I then realised I had not put on the alert wristbands. Thinking I must have left them in the wet room, I returned to collect them but couldn’t find them.
I searched the cabinet in the main room. I even checked the waste bin to see if I’d dropped them in there, but no luck. I felt like a proper fool as I turned around and found them on top of the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
In plain view all the time!
Then I made a quick meal.
Potato cakes and bacon. Eaten in Milk Roll bread and dunked into the BBQ tomato sauce.
Lovely. But the cakes were undercooked a smidge.
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TTFNski!

Phlogogenetic Inchy: Tuesday 10th September 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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TOP OF THE MORNING!

I got my head down last night, about 01:00hrs. I woke up at 01:15hrs. Nodded off again, waking up with an streaking up my right leg that nearly me nudged out of the bed. I’m sure I heard a buzzing coming from the leg and bottom! Luckily, I hit my head on the anti-fall bar. But sleep was out of the question. 
I tried, but the shocks were coming so often I gave up and went on the computer. Once on there, the shocks stopped. But I was concentrating on just for once, getting the blog finished earlier, sooner, quicker. When I eventually realised that they were no longer coming, well, the odd one now and then, it was too late to get back in bed cause the carer would be here in a couple of hours. So, I decided to get the ablutions done. No showering; the noise from the drain would wake those below me up. I extracted the nocturnal pouch from the catheter. The shocks had at least made me pass more wee-wee. Hahaha! Expecting reluctance from Constipation Conrad, I got in the wet room and picked up the crossword book. It wasn’t needed or used. Tsk! I casually but carefully got the PPs off and sat on the plastic seat.
Well, no torpedoes today; there was no doubt that Trotsky Terence had regained command of things rear-end-wise. The porcelain filled up with what looked like Oxo cubes, but Kharki, not brown, and many of them.
Getting cleaned up, washing the lower regions, and then getting the fresh PPs on was as difficult and painful as ever. It took me so long that I feared the Carer’s time was coming, so I rushed the shaving and body wash. The same goes for medications. The results were four shaving nicks and one deep cut. A stubbed toe – miraculously, I didn’t knock the ingrowing toenail! Also, I forgot to do the teeth. I got a long Kaghoule on and went into the kitchen, fancying a mug of Glengettie. 
I took these photos, although they were not good ones, of the morning view. I went to turn on the computer, but I got distracted by the noise from the baby alarm in the hallway. I never made the brew!
It was some mail that made the noise I heard. I was not in such a good mood then. A damned depression came on instantly as I realised the things I needed help with sorting for the letters. HMG sent three of them! (TV licence), the bank (2) and an unopened one after the shock of the first few. As I got on the computer, a barrage of painful… well, no, they just made me jump, but this time went on and on at me. This encouraged me to look up the cause of these shocks on the computer and find out if there was any help. There are some sites in America, but not the NHS. I spent far too long looking this up. The Carer arrived relatively late, not that it mattered. I mentioned the problem of the shocks, and she tried to help me with a problem from XL. Carer Sham, it was a nice gal. When she left, she took the laundry bag with her. I’m surprised I remembered that. Haha! 
I did a search and copied some information that I found.

Phytoestrogens?
But it informed me what I should eat and drink to help.
Soya beans & chickpeas, yes, I eat them two.
Flax – What’s that?
Broccoli berries have been barred for me by the cardiac team. 
It is too high in vitamin K. Tea is limited to two cups daily by Urology.

Advice: to keep moving. I’m bending down all day, emptying the catheter bag.
Cut out beer and nicotine. I did that in 1975. Eat Omega, found in fish. Last month I bought some smoked haddock, and very nice it was, but it was only a half fillet, & cost me over £6!
So, it seems that when they throw my cadaver in the fire on my way to St Peter’s gate, there might be more sparks and flames than there usually are? I must warn the crematoria. Hehehe!

We had a drop of rain this afternoon to teatime.
I got the Kodak out and took these three view shots into the balcony.
The rain didn’t last long… Sounds like something the wife used to say to me. Haha! 

I turned the oven on to heat up. I’d forgotten about the fresh beer-battered chips in the fridge. They are labelled “Use by yesterday,” but I’ll risk it. And a ready-made Shepherd’s Pie with a root vegetable potato topping. I made the nosh. It has a delightful flavour.
I ate it slowly and savoured every mouthful.

The evening view was one of those ‘everything-had-brown’ in it. Great!
I fell asleep in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.

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TTFN

Mysteriosophy Inchy: Thursday 5th September 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

And Keir Can feast on his claimed & granted expenses
Now he’s PM. You just watch him go!
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05:55hrs: I woke up and took a few moments to figure out who I was, where I was, and why I had woken up. No joking! I think it must be possible to have a while one is asleep. This could possibly explain my bafflement when I stirred. It didn’t help much when joined in the confusing morning equation. As confused as I was, I wasn’t in a depression until the thought storming started, but I was then. Steve harped on and on; The computer problems, the TV Licensing Prosecution, the damned stupid and painful Catheter Contraption fitted, electric shocks shooting up my leg, the guilt of being so inadequate in even needing help to get dressed! Many other things were thrown at me at almost the same time. Things from 70+ years ago, mistakes, bad choices, stupid options that were taken… then, as I was trying to get out of bed, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail toe on the bed support bar. This was followed by a sharp-jarring pain from the catheter tube on Little Inchy, which took my mind off of the earlier depression and replaced it with a sickening ‘Sorry for myself’ moment. Lacking clarity or precision might be nearer to the optimum delineation.
The nocturnal pouch was later checked and saved for colour classification by a carer. I’d regained a modicum of logicality by the time I’d made a brew of Glengettie and drank it.

The usual start, with the throne duties first. And what a change there! It was all over in seconds, but a ‘cunning plan’ from Trotsky caught me. I’d cleaned myself and WC up and was getting the shaving tackle ready… luckily I was only a hobble and a half away from the Porcelain Throne when a second wave arrived. I made it in time, but it was a close call. Had I needed to remove my PP’s, I’d have messed myself up. Luckily, if that’s the word, I’d taken the PPs off when in bed cause they and the catheter were causing me such pain.   
pillock
I did my teeth and then carried out the various medicationings,  got some fresh PPs on, and forgot all about having a shave. I put the tackle away, thinking that I’d had one. Is there any hope?

I took an earlyish morning snap of the view from the kitchenette window. It was a bit nippy out. Brr! I closed the window, and I started updating yesterday’s blog. But, as usual, I got an idea for today’s Ode and spent ages on it, then almost forgot about yesterday’s not being done. Onto CorelDraw and Carer Chris arrived. Chris got the diabetic socks on for me. Medications were issued, and he mentioned that the catheter conglomeration looked rather painful. He was on the button there! Hehehe! He took the laundry down for me. I hope it returns today; the smaller socks were both in it.

I had a couple of minor seizures, I think, so I gave the computer a rest. And started to sort the waste bins out. As I emptied one, I

burst into life and dropped on the bins. Crumbs were scattered over the carpet. So I unplugged  Vaccumm- Vincent to clean them up. I made a decent job of it, and as I turned (a little too quickly) with Vincent to replug him,   visited, , just enough for me to kick the bin over that I’d just emptied Vincent’s contents into! 

The day started badly… it’s still not getting any better!

came in to do a battery check. We had a little natter. Well, I told her of the day’s disasters. Hehehe! I love to laugh, but I get minimal opportunities nowadays. They are so precious to me!

Minutes after Deana had departed, the door chime chimed. I’ve noticed that it does that occasionally. 
The Postlady delivered three letters. One a bill. The other two from the TLA (Television Licensing Authority) informed me that an Enforcement Officer visit has been granted the right to call on me to collect payment. A £1000 fine may be applied if the licence fee is not paid on this visit on September 15th. Nice! Keir Starmer starts by stating that he means to go on with the liquidation of the older generation. Starmer’s total travel bill for his time in charge of the CPS stood at £236,485, which included first-class flights. It states in the letter that anyone over 76 years of age does not need to buy a licence?
I phoned Deana, who gave me a reference number to give to the bully boy or girl when he or she arrives.
The day started badly… it’s still not getting any better!

I made a food order from Ocado for next week. I can starve until then. At least that would please Starmer! Haha! 

Getting depressed again.
I got the Kodak and took this shot on the left of the flat’s Chestnut Way car parking.
Not a soul in sight!
Then I took this one on the right.
To the left of the apartments. (It sounds much posher than flats, dunnit?) Haha!) 

Next, off into the balcony.
To take a shot of the dead-end car park.

I felt the weight of the mini-sized catheter pulling down at the same time as Little Inchie felt the pain. Arghhh! I hobbled back into the flat and emptied the pouch, and all but went over again, as nearly had me over as I bent down to my foot to retrieve the bag. Fed up!
I limped cautiously back onto the balcony to take a final photo.
The rain had started. We need it, though; we’ve not had much this summertime.

The day started badly… it’s still not getting any better!.

I’ll investigate what food to have for nosh later on. No, I won’t.
I’ll go on the WP Reader. Some great photography and poetry were posted for my pleasure by other bloggers!

BEEF IN STOUT GRAVY
With a baked potato, halved and salted. Wholemeal bread rolls to soak up the gravy and get stains on my humungous, horrifically hefty, hanging-down stomach!  
A couple of squirts of BBQ-flavoured ketchup on the spuds.
Naughty, but so lovely!
I got the pots washed with one hand. The other was carrying the nocturnal catheter bag in hand. Then I put the bag on the floor and took this snap on the right. It looked ominous, yer peaceful at the same time.

Got down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. Intending to watch some recorded episodes of ‘Heartbeat’. I kept falling asleep and playing back the recording to catch up on what I’d missed. The chilly-cold body tingles, along with the , assured that I didn’t stay asleep for long each time.
When I got onto the bed, the same two ailments then joined in with to give me a horrible night’s rest! One of the worst nights for months. Tsk!

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The day started badly… it didn’t get any better!

CHEERS, EACH!

Pseudosophy Inchy: Wednesday 4th September 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Another day of frustration, torment, mistakes, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, agony from the bladder, wee-wee not flowing correctly. Urine’s colour regularly changed from almost clear to a deep brown and back again, Little Inchie in agony, the Catheter Contraption tugging away at him, Constipation Conrad showing no signs of easing, and… Never mind, a typical day here up in the clouds in the imprisoning flat, with increasing rent, power to go up 20% at the Labour’s first budget in October, and the yearly Power Costs Support Money has been cancelled by the Labour Party. That’s the one that Keir Starmer told us at the election was safe in our hands! I hope I never meet him; I’ll be nervous expecting him to pick my pocket!  Or worse!
The Founder of the National Health Service and my top Hero, Anyeui (Nye) Bevan, must be turning in his grave! 
Keir Starmer is a liar, cheat, wealthy, and power-motivated creature who seems too clever for his own good.
Did he not know his deceit and underhanded lies by omission would not be revealed? It’s only the suicidal Conservative Party’s own ineptness and patheticness that got him into power! Well, fair enough. Keir’s blatant lies helped. One of his first sleight-of-hand moves was taking away the pensioner’s Winter Warmth cash: an easy target for him, and he knew it. 
The personal protection of the prime minister and former prime ministers is the responsibility of the Protection Command within the Metropolitan Police Service. The fleet of Prime Ministerial Cars provides the prime minister with a number of security features and transport. The Labour leader racked up an extraordinary expenses bill – an average of nearly £50,000 a year – while senior public prosecutor, including a chauffeur-driven car alongside first and business-class flights worldwide.

Starmer billed over £180,000 for chauffeur-driven cars in London despite living four miles from the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) office.
He took first-class flights to four continents. As head of CPS, he took an 85-minute flight to Belfast, which cost us £443. 
Starmer spent nearly £20,000 on four flights to Washington, D.C., then claimed £7.24 for a taxi in the US capital.
His successor, A Saunders, served the same 5-year term but had travel expenses less than a third of the size of Starmer’s. And we have to grit our teeth, he says, at the budget?
Starmer took home £1m over five years in charge of CPS and accrued £336,000 in pension benefits.
Long-time watchers of Keir Starmer, who have questions about his murky rise to leadership of the Labour Party, will have noted the investigation by Gabriel Pogrund and Harry Yorke in last weekend’s Sunday Times with interest. Based in part on materials from investigative journalist Paul Holden, whose forthcoming book The Fraud: Keir Starmer, Labour Together, and the Crisis of British Democracy is due out early next year, the Sunday Times article reveals the slush fund of undeclared, unregulated, and unlawful dark money – more than £730,000 of it – that financed the reconquest and reclamation of the Labour party by its far-rightwing using Keir Starmer as a figurehead. 
Still, I mustn’t let the pug-faced, tergiversation, lying, duplicitous, untrustworthy, clever double entente master, and obnoxious Oligarch git get to me!  
Keir Starmer is at the peak of his dishonesty! Or should that be at the birth of unlimited new opportunities?

I got a little carried away there… didn’t I?

I woke late, at 0600 hrs, but I felt a smidge perky, so I decided to get up and do my ablutions. I looked down from the bed to see that the nocturnal catheter pouch had barely any wee-wee in it. But the gigantic, thick, overly-long tube was backed up with much darker urine that was not going into the bag. So, I applied the usual morning task of throwing the bag around like a football rattle, then threw it back on the floor. Sure enough, the urine flowed. Still too dark, but still. Can’t win them all. I popped into the kitchen before the wetroom to check that I’d not left the taps on, fridge or freezer doors open or cooker on. They all looked good to me.

The photo of the Bottom field and City Hospital in the distance was taken. They’re not bad either, well, alright.

First thing, a sit on the Porcelain Throne, pain, effort, and Oh, so slow coming out. Constipation Conrad is still in full charge. I took another Laxido sachet in warm water later). There were only a few specs of blood on the toilet roll, and there was no mess to clean up! After cleaning my teeth, I had a shave. The aftershave dribbled onto the flesh cuts. Tsk! A body scrub, and ont to the medicationalisationings. Olive oiled the earholes; Earache Erasmus was no bother today. Put the eye drops in. Then, I got the barrier cream under the man’s breasts and belly bulge.

Germoloided Harold Haemmoroids and antiseptic cream were on the top of the legs, where the catheter straps had cut into the skin a bit. Acne cream under the arms, around the neck, and to the forehead. Then Phorpain gelled the knees for Arthur Itis. I could not reach down to do the ankle ulcer; I’ll ask a carer later. But, of course, I forgot to! The last mendicant, as usual, was the ointmentating of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. Gawd, doing this hurts! I cleaned the glasses and cut my fingernails. I was in the middle of the usual battle to get the fresh PPs on when the door chime rang out. I finished as quickly as possible, but whoever it was had gone by the time I got to the door. Hobbled back to check the wet room, but could I find my hearing aids? No! It’s still a mystery to me, like so many things nowadays.

As I put on the gown, I noticed the thick, long catheter tube was in backflow mode again. And even deeper red now! I’d also obtained a new cruise on the left leg. It might have been caused by the top strap trapping the skin. Or not. I didn’t know what I was thinking at that moment. A seizure was on the way, and I knew it. Although how I knew it, I don’t know. But it did come, as Carer Shaquille arrived. I think I was waffling a lot. I know Shaq got the diabetic socks on for me.

I made a brew and got onto the computer belatedly. I have no idea what I got carried away with, but hours later, I’d still not started updating the blog. It seems I got some work done on CorelDraw, but not successfully. Spit!

Carer Kimberley arrived to provide financial help, but of course, she couldn’t. I pointed out that until Kara told her what to do and how to do it, including changing the name of my Prime Helper with the bank, they would not talk to her. She had a look at the mail but does not know, nor do I, where or which folder has to go in where. Kara used to do it so well and efficiently for me. She will see if Kara can show her and change her name.

I took this snap of the clouds while making a mug of tea. I’ve already drank three days’ worth of my allowance, which is six mugs, which should be two daily. A twinge of guilt was soon cast into the abyss of the ‘I’m-not-bothered-anymore’ section of the brain. A Dark, Dank Depression fell that instant! 

I could not seem to break out of this downer. It appears that I also snapped a picture of a beetroot jar, but I cannot recall the reason why. But finding it on the SD, I thought I’d post it with a warning and advice for chefs worldwide who may use pickled beetroot from the UK. “Warning: This beetroot is as hard as concrete!” “It can bend knives used to cut it”, and “Break teeth”. But, think of the poor producers, who are like everyone else, who have struggled with the Conservative’s ineptitude and now face Tax rises, Price Rises, and cut-backs from expense-fiddler Herr Keir.
Just thought I’d get another dig-in at HMG.

The miniature catheter pouch emptying went on and on. And it was not a good colour at all.
That is until about 19:00hrs after Carer Israel made a quick visit. After a few minutes, the weight of the mini-pouch tugged on Little Inchie, so I emptied the bag again, as it was so light a colour? This is baffling me. 

I decided I was too tired to carry on. So, I went to the WP reader and viewed any messengers. But I needed to rush, as my hunger was growing, and I needed to eat before I fell asleep.

I was serving up the nosh when Carer Israel arrived. I forgot to photograph it. Israel took the diabetic socks off my legs and attached the nocturnal bag to what may be my most painful catheter contraption. It has a tiny bag that needs emptying far too often and a long, thick upper tube that is giving Little Inchy more pain than ever before. (Written in hopes of the Doctor reading this blog)

I took these shots of the near sunset earlier and forgot about them until I found them on the SD card in the morning (Now).

It’s not too bad an effort, even if I say so myself. Smug-Mode-Assumed!
Got settled to watch some TV, & although I was seated with my legs up, Dizzy Dennis visited me for a couple of hours. I was on the verge of pressing the wristlet alarm, and as he dissipated.

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TTFN