Episodic Ataxia – Page 2

Inchie Used Cartoons: Dedicated to pensioner robbing, liar Keir Starmer

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Hope they raise a laugh!

Inchie: Monday 29th September 2025

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At times, we can all get a feeling of melancholy,
Though maybe not members of the oligarchy,
Leading to depression & Godforsakenly,
Depression Darius, brings thoughts sepulchrally,
When one copes with life, so inadequately…
You’ll end up feeling dejected, inconsolably,
You accept failures almost consentingly,
Wrongs beyond being put right, lamentably,
Each day brings challenges, physically,
On the same par as those mentally,
Seizures arrive unexpectedly, episodically,
Changing your responses, mostly erratically,
Often dwelling on thoughts elegiacally,
Bringing on doubts of your own mentality,
But I doubt you’re good at it, it’s your speciality…
As with fears, worries, making many a Whoopsie,
Accifauxpas, unaware, incogniscent of reality…
Yet aware of life’s impracticality,
Self-hatred, self-lambasting daily, invariably,
Seventy-eight, but still acting adolescently,
Lacking in life experiences, still awaiting maturity,
My infected brain shows a lack of ambiguity,
I missed out on debauchery, immorality, & indecency,
I was fondled in my youth by the Vicar of St Trinity,
Doreen’s Dementia brought me mental otiosity,
In the name of wealth, I feel repugnancy
I feel repugnancy at the world’s hostility…
I see the coming of worldwide anarchy,
Surrounded by complexity, difficulty… little subtlety,
Nothing to get one feeling a little chirpy…
I believe that Starmer acted reprehensibly,
When stealing the pensioners’ fuel subsidy,
Ruining family farmers, scandalously,
Taking backhanders from the Oligarchy,
Lying to the WASPI women atrociously,
Turn-coating, lying; reprehensibly!
Proving that was so untrustworthy,
He lied professionally at the Old Bailey,
He got into power, dishonestly…
He lied to win the Labour leadership, honestly!
Backed Corbyn’s policies, lyingly…
Said he’d cut tuition fees, wrongly,
National water, energy & the railway…,
He’s handed over UK fishing rights, the EU say,
For another 12 years, he’s loony!
Finding an honest MP? Hard work, operosity,
Now I study things, like universal ontosophy…
Thanks to my much belated opsimathy,
I see Starmer & Putin seeking omnipotency,
While living my last years so obsequiously,
World leaders are full of self-greed and obstinacy,
Populations now adopting discord, oppugnancy,
Curiosity, AI, political mendacity, no Omniety,
Some Governments are showing signs of ochlocracy,
Less compassion, too much oppositionality,
Even those who are not a democracy,
Keirs ace at deceit, lying and knavery…
Swindling, double-dealing, repeatedly!
Ditched Labour core values, acrimoniously,
Sneeringly, derisively, nastily & offensively,
Just think, life was meant to go algorithmically,
Procedurally, systematically, methodologically,
Programmatically, formulaically, and undeniably…
If you study these tips, investigatively…
Other options, such as malodorously,
Then, mysteriously, musingly, then melancholy,
So back to Starmer, who is not deprecatory…
And is not a Socialist, more like a Tory,
But I come to the end of this Ode, or story,
Not depressed, but feeling a little effervescently,
As High-Mood-Horis paid another visit to Inchie!
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Here we go again! Thud!
I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on around me, lately. Problems, difficulties, farces, memory lapses, seizures, bad news, and a mind that didn’t really seem to be mine at all. It may not be!

25 minutes spent on the Porcelain Throne this morning.

Carer Ejaz arrived and set about sorting me out. He dealt out the prescription medications. Performed a body check, resulting in some creaming of the ankle and legs, and pain in the back and both Cartilages, affecting Chloe and Carol. And barrier creamed my lower regions front and back. Then became my saviour for the first time today. I was searching earlier for the charging plug for the vacuum cleaner. Could I find it? No! I spent ages searching, eventually giving up, and hoped Carer Ejaz might know where it was. It (I thought at the time) was certainly not in the main room, after all, I’d been ferreting and searching for it for that long. I asked if he knew where it was, and he started looking around. Within three minutes, he was handing me the missing plug. I’d left it on the black side table, and with the plug being the same colour, I managed not to see it during my panicky search. Fool? Me? Yes!
Ejaz graded the urine in the nocturnal pouch, then emptied it for me. He’s a good lad. I’d be lost without him calling. Ejaz then helped me with the BP checks, ensuring the Arithmaphobia had allowed me to write the correct numbers for each item in the Excel list.

I popped out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park on Citrus Way, through the window. It didn’t come out well.

Elaz filled a bowl of hot water and disinfectant for me to wash my tootsies in and departed on his way. I’m getting close to being capable of doing this task nowadays. I use large kitchen towels to dry the feet on, using the picker-upperer to dry them off.

The blotching on the left leg was far less than it had been. It still amazes me how these can change daily; they looked great on the left leg, but not so with the right one. You can see the difference in the photo on the left here. The Cartilages seemed less bothersome this morning as well. And the legs had lost all of their swelling. Amazing, back to chicken legs now.

I took a snap catching the shadows made as the sun rose from behind the flats. It reminded me of a castle casting its shadow.

I started much belatedly on yesterday’s blog catch-up. I had the only recognised seizure of the morning, a mini-one, and you would not believe how Much I was disoriented when I came out of it. It lasted for hours and never really cleared up at all. My concentration was crippled for the rest of the day.
Talk about cock-ups! As I recall, I uploaded the photos to the wrong page in CorelDraw, placing them on Mondays, not Sundays. Even more time lost, losing precious time again. That was eventually corrected, except for my mistake of putting the wrong cartoon on each. Grumph!
I made a Morrison order for Tuesday after next. Then I would start wandering about, taking on other jobs and not finishing them as I found another to do. I suspect I was afraid of making more mistakes on the blog, which is why I avoided doing the very thing I set out to do. I hope you’re following this, because I’m struggling, and not a bit.

The Nurse from Cardiac called about the blood and heart monitors being set up. Giving me a chance to avoid getting back on the blog.

Then, to avoid making of bigger mess on the blog, I phoned Sister Jane. As I rang off, depressing Darius arrived and has stayed with me all day, up to now.

Then I thought it would be better than messing up the blog, so I’d Speed Mop the kitchen floor. Could I find the speedmop? No, of course not.

Ejaz called. Always glad to see the lad, even on a ten-minute visit. For the second time today, the lad was a saviour. He found the mop, not only that, but I think he recognised my uptight mood; he mopped the floor for me, before leaving on his way to his next client.
A kind lad, indeed. Thanks, Ejaz!

I reluctantly got the computer booted to try and force myself of of this Depression Darius mood.
It did not work!
While making notes of things to go on the blog, I thought the computer must have gone into sleep mode. So, O tapped the enter key a few times… that didn’t do anything. So, as the depression deepened, and the self-lambasting started… the mobile burst forth. It was the Doctor’s surgery, where I was told to expect a call tomorrow about the prescription medications. I was feeling so down that I didn’t ask what it was about or at what time; I just thanked her, saying that was alright, I’d be in all day. I was going to add, night, week, month, unless I have another tumble of the heart gives out, or jump off the balcony and snuff it – but I didn’t.

Carer Ejaz arrived, and I felt obligated to thank the lad for his help and explain how and why I was not my usual cheery self today. Obviously, I am greatly missing .
He appeared out of nowhere three months ago. He solved nothing, but installed a marvellous never had before “Sod-Em-All” attitude in me, that was abso-bloody-lutely brilliant! He visited me once while I was in hospital… Great! However, I haven’t seen or heard of him since. I could spit!
If ever he was needed, he is now!

I may be feeling a tad sorry for Horis’s missing?

I got the bread out to defrost and set about making a vegetable stew, of sorts… or something of that nature. Casserole? Soup?

HEALTH & SAFETY TIP OF THE DAY
Scenario: You’ve opened a tin of peas & carrots.
Cleaned and trimmed some red spring onions, sliced them, and added them to the stewpot. Then, I opened a can of water chestnuts and sliced a few up to add to the faux stew. Slice the just-boiled potatoes and mix them in the dish. Lastly, you add some fresh sliced tomatoes and red peppers from a jar.
You place them in a microwave dish, and put them in the oven… Then… you get distracted by the sunshine coming out, and decide to go on the balcony to take a photo – this doesn’t happen, because, and this is the H&S Tip bit.
When going into the medical-equipment-filled balcony, don’t get carried away with the gorgeous sky. There is every chance (like tonight) that you will walk into the sticking-out metal footrests of the wheelchair. This is not recommended!
Result!

Then, after a quick wipe and Germolen applied, back to the overcooked stew thingamajig.
Nice, all the same.

🤞🏻TTFN, EACH! 🤞🏻

Inchie: Sunday 28th September 2025

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Inchy felt below par in mind & body, the fool has put the wrong Ode Intro graphic title on here. This is nothing unique; the plonker has done this before. But at least he got the colour of the lettering nearly right. He expects retribution to be exacted, as it was last night. Yes, from Thought-Storming-Steve. Serves the uninhibited twit right! He’s sorry!
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Ah, the wind is blowing, as I try to get the car going…
Twas my old three-wheeled Reliant Robin,
She was aged when I bought her. She keeps stopping,
I thought it was the fuel filter, cause when I got her going,
The engine & plastic body were shuddering and shaking,
She stopped again, near a garage, so I pulled in…
Asked if I could give the RAC a ring…
Two hours later, I saw the RAC man arriving,
Walked down to the roadway to greet him; it was raining,
Both of us soaked, I asked the man who was serving…
If he minded if we used his WC to get dried in,
Which we did, a sociable man, we were joking…
As we left, we saw his motorbike & sidecar had been stolen,
No brooding or moaning; well, a little cursing,
I gave him a lift in my rain-soaked, now-working Robin,
To the RAC base, next to the pub, The Farmers Bobbin,
Then on to work, the rain was still coming…
I got to work late after all the kerfuffling,
What happened took some chymifying…
I told the boss what happened, but I was laughing…
I got the sack, he thought I was lying!
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More True Tales of Woe to follow,
That is, if the BP does not stay so low,
I’m running so far behind, I’ll have to go.
Not on holiday to Acapulco…
But to see my friend, Angelino…
He still owes me £150, you know,
No problem, just thought I’d let you know. 💟
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One of those terrible, LESS days.
Everything was a problem, a handicap, mingled with annoying blanks, and I was mentally all over the place. Monday, when I eventually started this blog, although feeling calmer, and the much-appreciated, even if only temporarily, departure of Anne Gyne and Toothache Tiffany, I struggled to get things in order, and some photos I cannot recall taking, but the date on the SD card told me I had taken them on Sunday.
So, I’m already behind again with the blog. With all the extra diabetic blood tests, limping slowly around with the sticks, and my mind still floating from subject A to B, I found myself doing subject C, forgetting to go back to do A and B.
I often sense that I’ve got something wrong. I’m forever going back to the kitchen to see if I’ve left the oven on, fridge or freezer doors open, or my most common mistake, left the hot water to run cold. This often hinders the washing or hand-laundering that I’d planned to do, and I become more confused and further behind with things that need doing, but don’t get done. The frustration grows, the solution being so far out of reach, beyond me.
The ablutions are now taking me a lot longer to complete. Two hours, even without having a shower. Carer Ejaz gets annoyed with me when I try to rush things or bend down to pick anything up that I’ve dropped on the floor; bless him, he has the best of intentions. He fears me ending up back in the hospital, knowing what a nightmare it was last time. Bless him. Tells me to leave them if the picker-upper cannot get them, and he will check on his next call if anything has been dropped in a dangerous place.
So, I apologise if things get out of order, are missed, or are duplicated. It’s hard work today (Monday) concentrating without getting sidetracked of thoughts and tasks that disrupt my intended pattern of plans and intentions.
This paragraph flowed too easily for my liking.
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Here I go, at last…
Bedded down at 00:10 hours, and into a broken, every now and then, sleep, forcing myself to dismount the bed at about 05:00hrs.
Carer Ejaz arrived a few minutes later as I was in the wet room battling to free the dark brown, solid, bobbly nuggets of the Constipation Konrad evacuation.
It was a long, arduous, painful task, needing a lot of urging.
Ejaz foamed the left lower leg lesions and issued the prescription medications. Gave me some extra Laxido to counteract the recent issues.
Did a body check, Porpain gelling Cartilage Chloe, and my lower back above the bottom, which he checked and reported as being bloodless. Then he barrier creamed under my flabby belly, the right arm, and the right testicle. Reminded me to take at least one stick with me whenever I moved to another room, and scolded me for bending down to pick things up. He was right, of course, he usually is, bless him. Within minutes of Ejaz’s departure, I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne again. I felt a little less resistant this time, but it did cause a bit of bleeding from Haemmorhoid Harold.

Made a start of Saturday’s blog, at the same time making several stupid errors that cost me hours to correct. Then, the return of the seizures. Then, the first one made things even worse, as it came in the middle of my trying to put right the earlier problems and foul-ups that I’d made. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it felt like it was a long one. Because when I returned in incomprehensible confusion and disorientation, it cleared so quickly. I’ve noticed that the longer ones are so much easier and quicker to recover from. Luckily, I hadn’t continued working on the blog… when that happens, it is so time-consuming and annoying having to correct the errors I’d made in the seizure. For some unknown reason, I abandoned correcting of my earlier blogging mistakes on the blog and went to the kitchenette. I got the orange/brown nightshirt handwashed and hung it up to drip-dry on a hanger in the wet room shower rail.
I took a snap of the kitchen window view. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but this photo had a hue that was nothing like the one in the camera’s eye-viewer when I took it.

Ejaz made a quick call, and I returned to the blog to correct so many errors that even I couldn’t believe that I’d made so many of them.

During Carer Ejaz’s teatime call, he checked, as I did, the PM Health Checks to ensure I had them right. Because the morning ones were so low, back in the danger zone.

I recall taking these cloud shots from the balcony, where I went to picture the end car park, but got carried away with the beauty of these clouds in the blue sky. I saw so many shapes within them… as any other addicted to pareidolia, like me, would.

I had to abandon blogging and finish it later; I’ll catch up in the morning. Suddenly attacked, this time including the foul, acrid taste coming up from the stomach; similar to the ones that come up after a nocturnal seizure. Concentration goes out of the window; concentration becomes a memory.
I think I rested in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, and put the TV on. Fell asleep (or had a seizure) and woke up on top of the bed, the acidulous taste lingering, twixt my stomach and my mouth.
I urged my body off of the bed, and got the stick, off to the wet room to use some mouthwash & Peptac.
Within a few minutes, the acerbic taste dissipated, and my thoughts turned to food… I investigated what was available in the refrigerator and freezer.
I created rather than cooked up this little feast.
Country sausage (ready-cooked), cubed potatoes oven-baked, Water chestnuts, and roast chestnuts.
Very nice!

Out of the blue, a nurse arrived, apologising for calling on a Sunday. Someone is coming on Tuesday. Thinking I had been informed about her visit for today. (Naturally, I may well have been and I’d forgot about it – it could happen to anyone… but, odds are this is what happened). I am to have a home heart and blood monitor installed. She will return on the delivery day, letting me know the day before, and guide me and a Carer on how to use it. That was a nice gesture. She gave me a number to ring, should the BP be any lower than it was today. Advised me to pack a bag with things needed, just in case. Towel, pyjamas, razors, foam, prescription toothpaste & brush, slippers, etc. And not to forget my mobile, hearing aids & batteries, spectacles and a list of medications I take.

The Cardiac & DVT nurses, as well as the District Nurse, are also due to change or renew their long-overdue appointments . So, don’t fret if I’m unable to post a blog on Tuesday. As Arni said, “I’ll be back!” Hahaha! I might not even be going anywhere.

Another pretty view from the kitchenette window.

Ejaz made his last call, insisting that I get to bed early and try to get more sleep. Which gave me an inner excuse not to wash and shave, Hehe!

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🤎 Please Taketh Care, Each! 🤎
And have a good kip, if you can
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Inchie: Saturday 27th September 2025

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1 believe I came across a phenomenon,
A prognostication visiting the psychometrician,
The man was a bit of a pecksniffian…
He asked if I indulge in procreation…
He noticed my tackle was positively pygmean,
We didn’t get as far as any prognostication,
One trait I have plenty of is being plebeian,
His suggestion, for my next Odes pultrusion…
My ailments & failures, now in profusion,
Said my heart failure is down to poor perfusion,
I’m not sure if he was a Doctor, a homoeopath, or a surgeon…
A consultant, obstetrician, or a prison physician,
Was it I or he who was the pigwidgeon?
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Ejaz graded this dollop as a 7½ rating.

Carers desk.
Rubbish bags.

Washed nightshirt hanging to dry

A murder of crows.
Regaining their territory. Young ones searching for carrion in the end car park. All part of parent training.

A much-belated start on this blog.

Must call Sister Jane in the morning. And Jenny, too.

A day of without a single visit from, also perhaps the brain-foggiest one since I got back from the hospital.
The increased pain from the knee fractures was tolerable. However, they eased suddenly at night, and for hours I could walk about with relatively little pain. Naturally, in the morning, they were back again, but it was an unexpected experience that I enjoyed. But I would have preferred to have had a visit from . Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany were both far less painful, too.
It was my brain that worried me a smidgeon. Active, but wayward, and when I got to sleep, activated and ruined what otherwise would have been a decent 5-hour kip.
Constantly waking up, and getting back asleep, only to find that was waiting for me. I got to the point of trying not to nod off again, and lay there mind-blankly waiting fearfully for the inevitable dropping off again, and of course, he just would not leave me alone. Churning over past errors, options taken, guilt creating and multiple embarrassing memories… non-stop. Of course, I am aware that it is me, my warped brain. This was like a self-lambasting, everlasting nocturnal period of self-hatred. Despite the knee agony that had returned, I had to go through the pain of getting up to go to the Porcelain Throne… and that was still controlled by , and only wind was passed. But that was better than listening and arguing with myself mentally. Steve had not been bothering me for ages; even in the hospital, he was noticeable by his absence.
I suppose I’ll have to mention this to the Neurologist at the meeting. Here, on the blog, I just tell it as it is. But sitting face-to-face with someone to say to them is a different experience. Hey-ho!
You never know, I might wake up in the morning, somersault out of bed while yodelling and do a backflip… free of pain, vision and hearing repaired and working, or not.

And that was only a fleeting morning visit.

I believe my brain has lost its perception
logicality, discrimination & elucidation

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Inchy Today: Saturday 12th July 2025

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I’m not sure of the theme of this Ode,
My brain took off on the highroad,
I’d got harrowed and I heehawed,
I’ve more facts I’d like to Herald…
My memory, that once glowed, is now gnawed,
But my brain is Doreen Dementia-Dominated,
I feared her when she first bestrode…
Into my skull, with Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, behold!
I don’t pass wind, I sort of noisily displode,
I live with Doreen… Ah, yes, she’s this Odes epode!
This, and my ailments, I spent years enwallowed,
Her qualities I studied and furbellowed,
But my struggles multiplied by a myriad,
So I wrote this little palinode,
I hope you are not too pshawed?
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THIS DAY OF OUR LORD
I just had to show you the Mood results…
Much improved on yesterday.
Of course, there’s time for things
to go apeshit yet, I suppose.
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Going for a record here, to get this caught up with in record time. Probably the longest! Haha!

First chicken view.
That should be the kitchen view.

Health Checks Done
Blood oxygen was low.

I was up late this morning again, without realising how late it was, I poddled to get the
Done. Only got as far as sitting on the Porcelain Throne, nothing evacuated again!
This is the fifth ‘No-Go’ sitting in three days! And two more failed efforts later on!
Hope something moves soon!
Carer Ejaz arrived. He took a snapshot of my legs and issued the medications. He performed a body check and judged the urine colour for me. We swapped farewells as he departed.

Back in the wetroon. All five teeth left were cleaned. Cut my gums. I shaved (one cut), medicated my ailments, & off to make a brew.
Got the cheesy rolls out of the refrigerator.

Second kitchen photo.

Checked the fridge, the
Silesian sausages were in date.

Third kitchen window shot.

Computer on. Catching up on yesterday’s blog took me three hours, plus I got carried away writing a second Ode. Hehehe!

More hours sorting, loading, saving and eventually filing photos in CorelDraw.

Another brew made,

Carer Mizra was in a rush, bless him.

I’m blogging more, but I’m not getting on very well.

Went to make up another water bottle, and put it in the fridge so it’d be cooled later.

The bread rolls I photographed had been in the direct sunlight. They will be edible now.

Two more bottles of water were made up.
I’m peeing well through the catheter!
Wish I could pass from the rear end!

SUNDOWN SERIES

Nice!

Time to do the WP Reading and comments.
Late now, tired out, and it feels like Anne Gyna is going to accompany me with the meal and sleep. She doesn’t half pick her times!

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Sweet Dreams!
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Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

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But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
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I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all.
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time!
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
I soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd July 2025

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It’s amazing what you think of in the shower,
In a bath, or on the Porcelain Throne,
Cutting tomatoes three times, I’ve stabbed Starmer,
Once, sat on the WC naturally all on my own,
Doing a crossword, trying to find an answer,
Got a Dizzy, & I fell off, and broke my anklebone,
In the ambulance, I remembered Asda…
When they substituted cough drops with a dog bone,
That must have been about 1998 in November,
I’d have complained, but didn’t have the backbone,
The funny things I recollect and remember,
Last month, I burnt my dressing gown,
Fishing, I’d puff my pipe of Erinmore mixture,
That could be why I never won a match fixture,
And today, up to now, I have not suffered a seizure,
In 1980, I bought my Nokia 100 mobile phone,
Got a new one, too complicated, like a megillah…
So, I went back to Nokia,
When I clocked for the micropsia,
I went and bought another,
I can’t recall its nomenclature,
It might have been Motorola,
I was no necromancer…
But I was an obtruder,
Changing the SIM, I cut my finger,
It bled on the Nokia, no, the Motorola,
A whiff of smoke, I’d left it in the charger,
Yet again, I went back to the Nokia,
I still use it, though we’re both much older,
I can’t see it, and I’m much deafer,
I’m tired and hungry; I’ll have a cob with tomato!
I’m losing the plot again, but no problemo…
Tomorrow, I may muse over crocodiles in the Orinoco.

I am sick and tired of listening to myself moan as things continue to keep going wrong.
Now (Wednesday), I could face a farcical first-time calling Carer for the three-hour visit I pay for. This is supposedly for them to have time to do the laundry, check the banking figures, advise me on mail received, and occasionally have time to mop a floor or clean the oven for me. Carer Joe used to get all these jobs done for me, and I didn’t need to worry.
Carer Ejaz, who has substituted for Joe twice, when I became more confused answering his questions about where things were and what to do.
I assumed Ejaz would be replacing Joe. But, No! I got a telephone call this morning from ICC (the Carer company). They are sending someone I’ve never heard of. Mind you, the phone line had terrible reception. (I wish they’d use the landline.) Either Jackie or Johnny will be coming this afternoon. It’s possible that whoever it is has been there before, and I’ve forgotten the name, of course. However, they will not be aware of my needs, and some of them will even take control and do as they please, ignoring me as if I weren’t there. But how can I deal with the blog, the possibility of the Oligarch Meter installers working, and then Nurse Hristina 🤎 taking the blood samples? Possibly Matron Jackie calling, and or the Catheter Changing Community nurses and the Neurologist who failed to call yesterday might get through. All this, and I have to stay aware of what’s going on around me. What needs to be done hasn’t been done, or has been missed altogether. However, my EQ just gave me good-jibes about whoever comes to do the extended Wednesday visit, positive.

Let’s face it, I can lose track just talking with myself!
The slightest happening, such as a phone call, the doorbell ringing, or going to the toilet, is each alone sufficient for whatever I was doing, going to do, or needed to do to be instantly discarded from my previous diabetic dementia, but has now been changed. Having been recently reclassified as Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment.
So what chance will I stand if those who didn’t come yesterday might call today, along with a strange Carer (I think), who needs to learn from me (Hehehe!) all the needs of the extended Wednesday visit?
Even if none of them call (Although J called to return the hand washing today, bless her 🌺).

Just a few photos, I’ll add further details of the Carers’ visit later on… I hope it goes well, but it doesn’t bode well for the future if it does not!

No shave. Two visits to the Porcelain Throne, both needing a good clean-up after the evacuation was completed.

The pins and plates were in better shape today!
I received a phone call on the landline. Oh, more joy, it was from my DVT Nurse, Hristina.
To advise me that she would be calling to take blood for the Warfarin INR test in the morning, between 10:00 and 12:00 hours. Lovely!🤎

I went onto the balcony to take a shot of the view.
Took this one of the old dilapidated three-wheeled walker, and forgot to take the view shot. Tsk!

I created the daily Ode eventually.

Care Ejaz arrived.

Call from ICC Carers. A Jackie or Jody will be doing the extended visit today.

I started this actual blog. Made a brew.

The long-visit Carer arrived. Nice gal, her name was Josie. I took my Kaftan off, put it in the laundry bag, and Carer Josie took it down with the laundry for me. On her return to the flat, she got the kitchen floor mopped for me. Did a good job. Then she checked through the food for out-of-date products. And wiped the inside of the fridge after.
Cheese, lemon juice, jellies, food colouring, yoghourt and a few other food items were put in the rubbish.

Josie helped me search for another elderly person’s mobile phone, but we couldn’t find one that charges from an electrical outlet. Not from a computer.

Josie went down to collect the dried clothes, returned and hung them up for me.
Time for her to go, a lovely gal. I asked if she would be doing the Wednesday visits each week. A shame that she didn’t know or not. I hope so!

I chopped up an orange tiger-tomato and some red onion and added it to the stew to be cooked in the microwave later.
Put the dish back in the fridge.

Then back on doing this blog.

I tried another search for a suitable mobile phone and found one for the older models that had a direct link between the charger and the phone. I ordered one from Amazon. Due on Friday.

Late afternoon shot.

The fridge after Carer Josie had finished. Nice!

The meal of the day, Stew!

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Dasvidaniya!
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Inchy’s Ode: Friday 30th May 2025

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I had a great idea, all be told,
To go into today’s Inchy Ode,
I was unshirted, & the brain unsorted,
To the Porcelain Throne, I ventured,
The motion was being prevented,
Constipation Conrad; I was tortured,
An hour later, the torpedo appeared…
To the blood & pain, I was not enured,
It painfully slowly came out, multicoloured,
I felt my innards being distorted…
The monster stuck, it was unimparted,
Surprisingly plopping, it was aerated!
Back to the Ode, but it had to be aborted,
I think my memory box had busted,
My mind & body, both beleaguered,
Back to the WC, I almost blubbered,
I got the second torpedo out painfully,
Then, a brainwave came to me…
I’d lost the Ode’s plot, alarmingly,
I’d tell you of the WC barbarity,
I had to make visits again, how many? Three!
I thought I might take up residency…
Arthur Itis’ knees, both rheumaticky,
Since the Covid jab, I’ve felt so sleepy,
But I’ve not lost it completely…
My brain is acting somewhat whimsically,
Another tumble, another Whoopsie!
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TTFN’ski

Inchy: Wed, Thur 30th May 2025 The end of an era

Now, CorelDraw will not let me save or import any graphics or photos at all! Even the ones I took in the afternoon!

Wednesday 28th
Horrible busy day. I took pictures in the morning and got graphics on.
Carer Joe arrived. And he set to sorting the junk room.
Wore me out.

I was peed off when I realised the CorelDraw problem.
I don’t understand it at all.

Thursday.
The nurse came to administer the COVID-19 injection.
I remember last year and the three days of sleeping that followed. It did again.

Friday.
CorelDraw has blanked out all the options on the screen. Can’t import, export, save, or copy anything…
I’ve really had enough.
Can’t see any help on the horizon.
But I’ll bother Carer Joe again when he calls next. And ask if his lads can help me sort out the problem.
With tax, CorelDraw cost me £449 plus this year, and I can’t use it!

I could, indeed have been crying. Sorry for myself.
I’d like to pull out of it all together.
The lads may help me in doing that, I hope.

When I get over this sleepiness and tiredness, whenever that may be, I’ll try to get the spirit to do a graphicless, or use an old one for a daily Ode on its own daily. But my spirits are so low.

I’ve never felt lower.
I also have a lot of comments to catch up on, as well as WP Reader. I’ll do them as soon as I can after posting this saddest of blogs.

Sorry about this.
Cheers.
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 27th May 2025

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MR PHOOEY
One of Sister Jane & hubby Pete’s cats.
My personal favourite. The lad had all sorts of problems. I believe he would have been around 13 years old in this photo, taken at their mansion.
The poor mite went deaf and almost blind a couple of years later. Then, he had kidney problems and many others, and he became fragile. Finding this photo made me think of Tim Price and Doug, WordPress cat owners who have gone through the anguish of losing their loves. Mr Phooey was an amazingly calm, & friendly cat. When one picked him up. I could hear and feel his purrs when I got a chance, and it was an honour to be able to gently fuss him, along with Jane, as in this photo above.
Thank heavens for memories!
Soft? Me? Yes, I loved him!
Bless Him!
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Be suspicious of those who bootlick,
Making sure it’s your boots is the trick,
Avoid Inchy’s odes; they’re logorrhoeic,
Men avoid women who are logorrhoeic,
And Starmer, the anthropophobic,
And known to be an anthropophagic,
He’s also deceptive, false, demagogic…
I find time for this sort of epodic,
Guillotines, designed to be ergonomic,
I think this Ode is funkadelic?
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You’ll probably guess better what happened than I can remember occurred.
Scribble only, and few photos. Recorded well for the first few hours, then the multiple seizures confounded me; I was in and out from then on.
04:50hrs: Stripped, grabbed the necessary items, and headed to the wet room to perform the ablutions and medicationalisations.
Soaked my feet and stood in a bowl with disinfectant while I cut my face… I mean, shaved. Hehe!
Getting my feet out of the bowl, I spilt some water, slipped on it and cracked my head against the sink. I seem to be mastering this little exercise more regularly these days. Tsk!

06:25hrs: I got on the computer. 07:15hrs: Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications. Then, I added mesh netting to the catheter contraption and got the diabetic socks fitted on my now dangly legs and feet.

On the computer, I came across an old photo of Sister Jane, Mr Phooey, and me. (above) I am as soft as grease, I know. But I thought of all my WordPress heroes who have cats and gone through the anguish of losing them. I am the same with my Cyril and Lady, and of course, Jane’s Mr Phooey! 💛

The computer needed a reset in the hope that this would correct its habit of sticking mousse.
So, I got the Hoover out and did a bit of cleaning up. The emphasis is on ’A bit of cleaning up!’ Haha!

The food delivery from J Sainsbury’s arrived. I started to put away the foodstuff… I must have taken this photo.

A mega-seizure followed by a slowly dwindling series of mini-seizures.
How two Carer visits came and went with only glimpses of any memory of them amazes me.
Not as much as how I did work on CorelDraw during the long one. And what bit I did and no cock-ups in them… that I could find anyway. No taps were left on. No food doors were left open.
How? That’s what I’d like to know!
No signs of aches or new pains to indicate any tumbles being taken, either.
I meant to mention this to Carer Joe when he came, but I don’t think I did. I hope to remember to tell the Doctor when she calls on the Wednesday after next. There are so many little things, extra, different things I’d like to recall and relate to the Doctor. But they drift off into the ether. Carer Joe should be here when she comes, so I think it’s important to keep him updated. As he might jog my memory or tell the Doctor himself. Is it likely to be more reliable than I can be? It was so good of him to move things about on his busy schedule, to fit me in to be here when the Doctor arrives. Thank’s Joe!

Looking at this photo, I’d guess what I’d had for nosh tonight or whenever. Possibly a boiled potato cut into cubes? Orange, red and yellow tomatoes. Pickled water chestnuts. Pickled mushrooms. Beetroots, red onion, and Marmite cheese. Cheesy topped bread rolls. The dessert might be a jelly & custard pot? What is on top of the potatoes and what was in the bread rolls will have to remain one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.
How the heck can I not recall this meal? It looks delightful to me in this photo?
Ah, yes. As I’m still two days behind with the blogs, confusion is to be expected. Especially when I get distracted from my intended actions.
These are perfect examples of this; while draining the catheter pouch (three times in three days), I got distracted and either did not turn the valve off or only partly, in my rush to answer the phone, the intercom and the door chime. Resulting in more agitation when I realised that each time I’d got urine on my leg, socks and part filled the slipper. I ran out of slippers when I did it today! They are all in the wash with the pouch netting and socks. Then, a master risk! I had to get water from the kitchen sink into a bowl, disinfect it, and bring it to the main room to soak the feet. Having to dry them with paper towels using the picker-upperer. Bending down to get to the feet is a no-go. Just too painful on the knees and back and causes me to have dizziness. Which is best avoided. I think I’ve had two tumbles in two days caused by bending down. Hitting my forehead on the wet room sink each time, but I stayed upright at least; that is a blessing. Otherwise, the long crawl on all fours to get to the recliner to haul my body back up onto the feet is such a painful struggle. Arthur Itis, Little Inchie, the catheter tube pulling and causing bleeding… I’m moaning again, aren’t I? Shut up!

The short Mini Seizures took over.
Coming out of these, the confusion seemed well out of proportion. More than when I escaped the mammoth one?

I may have got things out of sync or repeated. Sorry.

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All The Bestest!
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