Episodic Ataxia

Inchy: Wednesday 19th February 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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THINGS I’VE MISLAID, But not DDDD!
I recall losing my spark and ebulliency,
That disappeared relatively early,
As for my romantic… we’ll call it urgency
The desire remained, but not the capability,
It didn’t help having a toddler named Inchy!
Some sessions were like a farce, or comedy,
I did my best to offer some excitancy,
Usually offering the gal only oscitancy,
Until I met Grizelda, tall, thick & muscly,
Who declared her love of danglers, mini,
Our sessions made us both happy & giddy!
We mated, rhapsodically repeatedly…
She would always ritualistically,
Throw me on the bed, into reverie,
I swear we produced radioactivity,
It was our seven-times-a-week proclivity,
That was before I went all rheumatically,
But now I’m nearly an octinarianary,
With a catheter stuck in my Willy,
Incapable of any sexual prithee,
Even recalling Grizelda’s memory,
Her hairy chest, & biceps is risky…
Cause it always gets me frisky,
Willy grows; things go painfully!
Now my urges have left me,
But I never had enough adequacy,
I had to get by somehow, accursedly!
Imipramine, for depression, 3 times daily,
Thus, I lost all urges, sexually…
Started considering things, funereally,
Depression and Peripheral Neuropathy,
I got shot twice; the arm and knee,
I went bankrupt financially…
I hung on a bit longer to my morality,
A mechanical aorta valve was fitted, thankfully,
Now, when I wake up, it’s half-heartedly,
I look back at things I did unwisely,
Unthinkingly, recklessly or tactlessly,
No doubt about it, I exist apathetically,
Bladder cancer made me live virginly,
I’m still here, still terminally…
With the seizures & DDDD; mental anarchy,
Never again to pee voluntarily,
Barred from any sexual activity,
Glaucoma Gladys, blurring what I see,
I got an appointment at the doctor’s surgery!
Nine days away, for 27 Feb, next Thursday,
I won’t see her, she’s going to ring me!
That’ll be good if I talk stutteringly…
Will I hear her, knowing I hear deafly,
Let’s be honest here, does it matter?
But I’ll not be a quitter or attritee,
Guess who’s just left me? DDDD!
I’ll make the best of it, & brew a mug of tea!
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Flashback to 1965
GNCS (Greater Nottingham Cooperative Society) 118 store, Arleston Drive, Wollaton, Nottinghamshire. I was the Fresh Fish & Greenfruit Department Manager then. I have so many happy memories of this store. I’ll share a few if you don’t mind.
The Manager was a Gentleman, Bill Morris, my much-admired mentor. Many years after the above photo was taken, when the store had to close, I was promoted (if that’s the right word) to Lily Grove Greengrocers shop. It was an old serving counter store with a grocer and butcher in three separate units.
Mr Morris retired. He passed away shortly after leaving 118. It’s sad, but he taught me much, and I admired him.
We had an armed robbery early one morning before opening the doors. I heard some shouting, and I went out of the back door to the front of the shop and caught the number and colour of Hillman Minx they were driving away in. I recognised one of the three in the vehicle. Informed the police went to the nick and was interviewed. I got the impression they thought I was involved in the raid. Credit to the police, they caught all three of them within two hours of the attack. I had two visitors to my flat the following week. They advised me not to identify the bloke I had already identified. I phoned the police while they were threatening me. They couldn’t understand or were pig-thick and carried on the threats while I was on the line. I was so angry with them, as a siren was heard, one pulled out a gun… which I knew was a starting pistol, cause at sports club we had one exactly like it. I must have sounded rather brave as I swore at them and stopped them from escaping before the bobbies arrived. Looking back at it, I must have been a different person then. I wouldn’t do it now; that’s for sure certain! In court, their mates said I would pay for this, as they were found guilty and sentenced immediately. Thankfully, I never heard from them again.

I enjoyed writing that. Mind you, I was in a high mood when I wrote this.

Sorry, not much on again. Had a few decent spells.

I detached and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch and collated all four waste bins into one bigger one and placed them next to the door. I got the kettle on, made a nice strong brew of Glengettie, and had to divert to the wet room .

This was even more gooey and sticky than yesterday’s evacuation! By the time I’d cleaned up and returned to the kitchen to get to the mug of tea, it would have been pointless. It was bound to be too cold! So, I decided to get the washing procedure done early.

Started with the shaving today. And broke a record, I reckon. I acquired seven cuts, all bar one (under my chin), on the back of my neck again. Still, they were all tiny efforts, and the Brut soon stemmed their flow. The stand-up wash went quickly enough, as did the teggie cleaning. Suprisingly.
The medicationings and dressing had their moments!.
The top strap sores on the catheter holder were… what can I call it? Sore, and they became even more painful when the barrier cream was applied.
bled a little, but not a lot.The other areas.were nae bother.
The Phorpain Gel was well-used. in both knees
needed a good lathering. And and were massaged.
I could not reach to get the Germolene onto the split ingrowing toenail. I used the picker-upperer to put some tissue on the big left toe.
And were applied. I’m so glad I don’t use the drops now. More of any ete dropping missed the eye and usually ran down my cheek and into my mouth. Hehe! Much more straightforward with the gels and sprays. They cost a lot more… but I can’t take the money with me when I clock out. is with me as I type this; I’m pleased to see a little humour creeping back into the blog while 
Has taken a temporary furlough from his haunting ways. was done without much bother for once! .

Finally I  .
Now, I must tackle getting the PPs (Protection Pants) on.
I was doing so well with the help of the picker-upperer.
I’m not sure how I managed it , but somehow, I caught the release valve while making the final adjustment. Drip-drip-drip… Unwanted semi-panic, I closed the valve, grabbed the large kitchen roll and picker-upperer to clean the mess up… and dropped the roll. Naturally, it bounced on the lip and dived as if under remote control. Splunk into the WC! I finished the cleaning, mopping, freshening up and getting dressed. Not the socks, of course, which are beyond the capabilities of this ageing bad odesmith, with a magnificently muscled and highly toned body and razor-sharp brain.

Made another brew of 99 tea to replace the cold one.
I took this morning’s shot from the kitchenette window, and Carer Shaq arrived just as I returned to a state. I could not stop waffling on. I think, anyway. He put the socks on for me (I knew they were on later), and medications were issued.  

Belatedly changed the clock calendar. And the day’s started. They were most persistent today. (More later).

And the seizures mean a blank or lack of details of the later Iceland delivery. Yet, I found these photos taken without the slightest memory of taking them.
The fridge… no freezer.
Not much in the fridge?
I’m not sure about what or why this was taken.

Returned later, and I got a good crack on blogging. Albeit interspersed with the mini-seizures throughout, and being error-ridden, needing so much time ot correct so many cock-ups. I may have overloaded the Grammarly memory that is available. Haha! 

During Carer Kimberley’s visit, it seems I had several seizures that she witnessed. When I came out of one, she told me that I had been ‘out’ for the longest time Chloe had ever seen me. I was muttering words that made no sense for a minute or two, as if she thought I was asleep and having a dream or nightmare? As she left, she made notes of this on the log. Also told me she recognised two or three of the mini-seizures on this visit, those I was not aware of at all. Then again, I may have got all this wrong or confused due to the seizures. But I think this is one of the more explicit memories. But…

I recall cleaning the old cooker and under the new one and vacuuming, I think, when Kimberly arrived. I’ve found these activities in the morning, down on the notepad.

Hours of doing nothing. I can’t honestly recall turning everything off on the computer, but I must have. On Thursday morning loading, the Ccleaner had been used, so I had to sign in to everything again.

I suddenly felt drained, so I made a meal. Carer Promise helped me with the timing of the cooking.
A mixed bag of Beef in black bean sauce meals with extras!
A tray of Parsley Box Beef in black bean sauce.
A tray of Iceland Box Beef in black bean sauce.
One went into the oven – 15 minutes later, the second went in.
To try and get them to be cooked simultaneously.
Removed from the oven, some garden peas, water chestnuts, and boiled potatoes were added to the slow cooker.
Result:
Some milk-roll bread for dipping. Haha!

I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights.
I didn’t make it. I drifted off into a deep sleep… but only for an hour. Jumped awake and found myself talking? It took me no time to nod off again.
After that, it got farcical and frustrating.
As I recall, it was almost a different type of cause for waking up again, which felt like they were every five minutes.
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Eric’s Electric Leg Shocks, Coughing or sneezing, and the most often one was from Twitching Neck Nigel. I think these may have been caused by Sleeping or Nocturnal Seizures?
I’m glad Carer Chloe helped me get an emergency appointment with the Doctor on Monday, the 17th, for Thursday, the 27th. So a ten-day wait to get assistance, and then it is only via a phone call from the Doctor, not a visit.

I assume the seizure problem is based on or coming because of my FND and/or Peripheral Neuropathy links. There are many possible etiologic agents for FND. I seem to have most of them, according to the United Kingdom FND site on Google.

I had my worst night’s sleep ever. It was worse than two weeks ago; I had none for three days.
Still, the Doctor is rushing to my aid. Phwert!

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Inchy: Tuesday 18th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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– MONDAY MORNING BLIMP –
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GENERALLY WAFFLE
DDDD’s then unnatural highs…
I’m either spouting fripperies,
Tweedledum’s, then Tweedledee’s,
Both or either, but rarely neither
No solution, no help, no arbiter…
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The DDDDs swapping with the highs is eclectic,
Leaving me mentally drained, endorheic,
Lows are deep, highs make me ecstatic,
Why lows? That remains somewhat esoteric,
Change of moods, without any logic…
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I suspect it’s something neurophysiologic,
Mental or Peripheral Neuropathic?
High, Low, High Low, very methodic,
Lows can be curmudgeonly, choleric,
Highs, for no reason… neurotic!
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I can no longer remain an abnegator,
I’ll make an appointment with the Doctor,
Say how DDDDs make me feel blanker,

Two sandwiches short of a picnic, seizure!
Beg for help with my dysphoria!
Oh, and tell her of my gastrectasia.
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A five-cut shave was quite an achievement,
Because Shaking-Shaun was absent,
Porcelain Throne call, a Trotsky Terence Torrent!
This morning Anne Gyna was so condolent,
Sandra’s Seizures the opposite, calcitrant!,
Ankle Ulcer Ulrich was not urticant!
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Dementia Doreen had my mind all volitant,
Seizures repeatedly came and went,
Another letter, writing on it said ‘urgent’,
A bank letter, unhappy at what I’d spent,
An email which caused befuddlement,
I’ll pay the bill; be acquiescent!
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Food, power price up, & the rent,
Starmer gets me feeling termagant!
Nicking pensioners’ fuel cost grant,
As PM. he’s a dishonest abomination,
The Tories did less damage to the nation,
His election stance was anticorruption.
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Keir should be served a summons or citation,
Arrested, hung, in any combination,
For his lies and known transgression,
Never has a PM been more unloved,
He at least, should be vilified & reprehended,
Criticised, castigated, but not castrated!
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He may be academical, but he is not an Aristotle,
Hid backhanders are not apodeictical,
His lies turned voters apoplectical,
His smugness come over as antagonistical,
His past actions are somewhat adumbral,
His responses are agathokakological!
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No oligarchs are interested in antipoverty,
Nor peace, compassion or any amnesty,
Selling arms to both sides, but not equally,
They make fortunes with utter efficiency,
Innocent victims dying daily,
Safe, in their towers, sipping Drambuie
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A busy, tiring & trying day. But some progress was made. I got an appointment with the doctor. No, I’m not joking! 
Carer Chloe helped me as I called the doctor’s surgery to make an appointment to get help with DDDD, the Seizures and the ankle ulcer. What a performance it was! The recorded message told me I was fifth in the queue. Recorded messages kept playing, but they were too loud for me to understand them. Sounds daft, but anyone with ménière’s disease would understand the problem. A wave of Chloe’s hand after everyone told me to ignore them, they didn’t matter. Finally, a message telling me I was next in the queue and informing me that I would not be speaking with a doctor, but an Appointment Assessor. I did! She took my details and reasons for wanting to see the doctor. Then, I explained that it would be a telephone call job from the doctor. On Thursday the 27th between nine & twelve. That helped my depression no end. Here is a memory prompter; Can you remember when medics would say, “We’ll keep him in overnight for monitoring”?

I’ve not been well today at all, but apart from DDDD and the seizures taking a tumble, there was no apparent cause for the reversal either, again. Yet, High Spirits Herbert kept popping back up now and then. Puzzled!
Not any detail other than impotant stuff, to me.
I fell asleep this afternoon for hours 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. A sudden feeling of weariness flooded over me. I might be disintegrating bit by bit? Hahaha!

Nocturnal Catheter Bag.

Morning kitchen window view.

First things first!
I increased the shaving cut to seven this morning. All tiddly little ones. I also cut my finger when cleaning the razor.

Finally got on the computer.
Changed the dates on the clock calendar.

Choe made the first call and then the second, which was domestic. This was when she helped with the mail and doctor’s non-appointment. Hehe! She also checked the dates on my fridge foods and hoovered the hallway. Taking a threatening letter from BG about my needing a new electricity meter down to the Warden’s office.

Carer Sam did the midday call.

I fell asleep due to a sudden feeling of weariness dawning.
It’s not as if I’d done much.

The bacon & cobs tasted terrible.
All the others were delightfully tasty!

Carer Christopher took my diabetic socks off. Medications.

Night-time snap.

Did some catch-up on this blog.
Then, onto WP comments and the Reader,
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Hasta La Vista!
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Inchy: Monday 17th February 2025

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A Morning Whoopsie Result
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Often, I muse over things celestially…
But mostly of things dyspeptically,
Musing over outer space’s infinity,
And my mentality-psychomotricity,
My situation has changed dramatically,
I sense the coming of instability & insanity,
I would not refuse help psychiatrically,
I turn to the world of pneumatophilosophy,
But knowing it cannot help me be free,
I can’t stop the depression, as you see…
But sometimes they can instantly flee…
From depression, I move to near gaiety,
Nothing has changed, preposterously,
In this High Mode, I regain some precocity,
I often reach the heights of complacency,
My problems remain, but do I feel so jolly?
Yet things will return, & I feel melancholy,
Then DDDD returns again, tenebrously,
This is a guaranteed certainty…
The cycle will start again, unfortunately,
I’ve had DDDD for years, well, about three,
Thinking they may stop pessimistically!
Hoping his reign would go deciduously,
Not coping now, reacting despondently…
I just read up here, and I feel dweeby!
It reads dourly and dyspeptically,
I shan’t write another ode when DDDD…
High Mode Horis isn’t visiting me,
Doing so was a bit silly!
I’ll say a prayer, doxologically,
Now I’m singing, albeit untunefully,
Thank Gawd, I’m currently DDDD-Free!
But of course, that’s only temporary!
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MONDAY 17th FEBRUARY 2025
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Things are so out of my control, changes are in motion, and the ailments, particularly my and myoclonic seizures. Both seemed… no, not seemed, they were more profound in depth and frequency today. I had a cracker of a DDDD this morning. That was deeper and more overpowering than either had been before. Humph & Tsk! Seriously though, the depression was terrible and stayed with me for hours.
. I got nothing done for ages. I was pityfully sorry for myself, yet nowt had changed to cause this reaction! Well… not from yesterday, anyway. I’ve got to order the prescriptions from the chemist later; I’ll call to see if I can get a Doctor’s appointment to mention these recent increases in depression and seizures.
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05:00hrs; I woke in an almost usual manner. was noticeable by his absence, a cough and a sneeze, and I rose to get the catheter night bag freed from the day bag. The colour was the best for months. I was in a decent mood. No seizures or depression; Anne Gyna was good to me, just a few and one twinge from Duodenal Donald. I was already making plans as I hobbled into the kitchen to get the kettle on and took this snap from the window to the right of the offer view. An unidentifiable glow of light in the centre?
As I was making up the waste bag (An old photo used because later the computer or WP would not let me put the one taken on here. Spit!) I decided to get the done. I think by the time I got into the wet room, I was singing to myself. Honestly!Hehe!
The need for the Throne. Trotsky Terence was in complete control. It was messy, very messy, and pongy, too! Again, it was all over in seconds rather than minutes. Cleaning things up took much longer. The shaving went well, not a single cut or knick!
Teeth cleaning was a smidge painful, but that’s an accepted thing with the state of my teggies. Haha! The was a success, too! No wonder I was merrily singing. No tumbles or walking into anything; nothing was dropped or broken. ! Well, I did knock over , but let’s not nit-pick while I was in such a reasonable frame of mind.
I dressed and returned to the kitchen to make a brew of Co-op 99 tasty tea. That was when I opened one of the medical drawers to get some anti-poo-poo tablets. I needed to work out which tablets would last a week. It’s a good job that Richard told me it was the chemist to ring last night, or I would have rang the Doctor’s in error. Hehe! I wrote down all the names of the tablets and dosages morning, midday, and evening from the Carers log, then checked that there would be enough to last me. If I remember to call the chemist. Ahem!

I was planning the Ode of the day. (Sorry, it sounds downbeat to me) But it just flowed out, with frustration and depression, I assume. I was going to take it off, but for some reason, I didn’t. The ailments of the day kicked off!

Carer Chris arrived while I was amidst several myoclonic seizures. And DDDD quickly backed them up. I’ve never had either of them for so long or as acute. Chris gave me the medication and put my socks on; that’s all I can recall.

Eventually, DDDD abandoned me in an instant. (I’m certainly not complaining!) The Up-Mode returned, and I was almost content. These changes are doing my head in! And all without thyme or reason, Harruph and Humph!
The myoclonic seizures, I believe, returned. I sat in the chair for two hours, and nothing was done.
Well, not that I could discern, anyway.

Then, as my awareness improved, but not my confidence, I felt no logic to it for an unknown reason! That I had made a mistake with the medication listings. I reviewed and checked the paperwork; it was the same on the Excel worksheet. I could find nothing out of order, but I feared I might have made a blooper in counting the individual tables, so I counted them again. With my Arithmaphobia, lousy eyesight and this nagging conviction that I had done it wrongly, it was no surprise that DDDD had another light-putting-out session on me.

Carer Joanne did the midday call while I was in the middle of assessing the worksheet. It was lovely to see her. She saw the paperwork, and I explained why I was doing it. She’d popped in to return the non-machine wash laundry for me; bless her. She was soon of again on her rounds. ♥

I had one last check, looking for anything obviously wrong with the figures, spelling, or the number of medications in stock that I was about to order from the chemist.
I carefully dialled the telephone number—at least, I thought I was careful. A recorded message told me I had rang an incorrect number and to try again. So, I tried again!
I was so pleased: First, I dialled the correct number. Then the voice of the lady answering the phone was so hearable. Then, with the lady’s patience shown, with my stuttering.
I’d mispronounced some of the medications. She said she had to confirm with the Doctor, and the delivery should be on Thursday or Friday. After thanking her, I avoided going into a . With my luck, DDDD was also making shorter forays into my brain now! I’m crossing my fingers.

Dammit! It might be too late to ring the doctor now, but I still did.
Recorded Message; “You are 13th in the queue” Shame!

I have to get something to eat. Oh, no. The Caregiver is due in the next hour. I’ll leave the fodder until after he or she has called.

I’ll go on to the WP reader and comments.
Concentration was crumbling. But I got them done.
A couple more seizures didn’t help. I hope I didn’t make any mistakes. These were the deep types, where I seemed to carry on and find wrong things later.

When I did this update on Tuesday morning, I found the snap of the teatime clouds I’d missed.
Bootiful!

DDDD was back. I did not eat anywhere near all the fodder on the tray. Somehow, I lost my appetite halfway through.

Carer Promise took off my diabetic socks.
Paracetomol and Peptac taken. I rubbed some Phorpain Gel on Catheter Chloe, & Arthur Itis’s knees.
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Cheery-Bye!
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Inchy: Sunday 16th February 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Inchy: Grim, is this call fer yer soul-gathering process?
Grim: Well, it ain’t exactly going to be posthumous,
As yer not dead yet, let alone redivivus!
Inchy: Oh, aye, were yer bein’ punctilious?
Grim: No, it’s a social call, I wasn’t bein’ serious!
You don’t greet me with any doubtfulness?
Inchy: I see you as my saviour & retiarius!
Grim: Have you been on the drink? Is yer stocious?
Anyway, what does that mean, retiarius?
Inchy: A word I got from my thesaurus…
Grim: Oh yeah, you lost yer word list, gonna tell us?
Inchy: A Gladiator with a net, called iaculums…
Way back in Roman or Greek civilisation,
Grim: In the arena, I saw some action…
Inchy: Did yer go in a gladiators competition?
Grim: Aye, in my last life, I was an egalitarian …
Inchy: You told me yer was a Roman!
Grim: You don’t know that word, do yer; egalitarian?
Inchy: Is it an island in the Mediterranean?
Grim: Life was good then, full of adventurism,
Mind you, we discovered anthropotheism,
3.000 years earlier, I became a theoretician,
Life before that, I was a Pelasgian,
I put my head in the mouth of a lion…
I died at the Roman Coliseum,
Inchy: We seem to have had a lot in common
Grim: Yes, you shot in, & I got stabbed in the brachium
I enjoyed this natter; some folk won’t listen,
Inchy: Does St Peter show contradistinction?
Grim: On a bad day, he sees humankind’s failure
Of course, he dare not tell his gaffer,
The one in Heaven or the Beelzebubian?
The last souls I took were a proper motley collection,
An oligarch, terrorist and a politician…
Inchy: Of Heaven &Hell I’ve many a conceptualisation
Grim: I’d think when I collect souls for incineration…
You’ll be full of expectation, scepticism, apprehension?
Inchy: You’re right there, Grim, there’re cornucopian
Grim: Gird yourself for destruction & disputation,
Inchy: So, like Earth then, it’s full of desolation?
Grim: There’ll be billions in the queue waiting,
They’ve had to widen St Peters’s gating!
I’ll tell you when to stock up on your Amoxycillin,
To make time pass, they say to go Angel-watching,
Eventually, you’ll get through the brainwashing!
To Earth, 99% will be returning…
Where they can slowly die again, starving,
They’ll live in caves until the Earth starts exploding!
Inchy: Well, I’m so glad to hear you explaining!
Grim: Haha! Fear not, for I was just teasing!
Inchy: For a while, then, life was not so depressing.
Thanks, you certainly had me laughing!
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BEST WEEK FOR YONKS!
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A BAD AFTERNOON & NIGHT
THE MORNING WAS FINE.
Sorry, not a lot on from PM.
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Woke without any .
I did miss him. Haha!  was easier than she had been for the last two days. Bless her!
The Ailment Excrutiatera of this Sunday were & . In the latter part of the day, the SS’s repetitions were scary.
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I didn’t wake up until 05:00hrs. And did so without the neck twitches! I got the
removed. A dark shade today. I’d had a good 6 hours of sleep, mind you!

I had hurried, but I don’t know why I hurried, stand-up wash & shave (three cuts). The medications all went well, and then I got seated on the WC in anticipation of another solid, not-wanting-to-escape torpedo to be evacuated. I got the crossword book and pen, as I settled…
One minute later, the splonk-all-gone Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation was all over!

To the kitchen, taking some snaps of the view.
Both of them turned out badly.
Unfortunately for me, Shaking Shaun gave me a bit of a mini-battering at the time.

I got carried away for hours with the Grim Reaper Odeing.
I found it difficult for some reason or other formulationalisations of this Ode. There’ll be a reason for this.
If anyone knows, please let me know. Haha!

Carer Shaq called, and we had a snow shower when he was here! He took the camera and tried to get some snaps that showed the snow falling. He realised the Shaking Shaun was visiting and helped.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
That was a waste of time. Hehehe!

Carer Kimberley arrived. Medications given.
What I believed were Myoclonic Seizures kicked off. These ones are where I carry on doing things without realising it. They hounded me for the rest of the day. Not good. 
Eric’s Electric Shocks joined in later, but no bad ones, and they were not overmany.

I made the second mug of Co-op 99 tea bags.

I went back to blogging and Coreldrawing as soon as I completed it, then did a disastrous job of getting the Ode onto the top of this blog. With seizures and the occasional Eric’s Electric Shock joining in, I’d had enough, and I will try to get it all sorted out later. The colours I chose kept changing, and I couldn’t figure out why or what I was doing wrong.

I was feeling a bit of a mental wreck when Carer Ali arrived.
But he cheered me up a smidgeon.
After he was done taking the medications and taking off my socks, I decided not to give in altogether and caught up with the WP Reader and comments. Getting hungry now!.

NOSH
Ready meal. Added some Marmite.
Milk Roll bread defrosted.
Lemon Yoghourt.
Nice!

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Due to a change in circumstances, my blog will have to get smaller starting Monday.
There may be the odd day when it cannot get done.
Many extra tasks to find out how to do them and then get them done. The first one tomorrow is to remember how to order the medications directly. Carer Richard informed me I have to phone the chemist each Monday after checking the stock and let them know what needs to be done. If the Seizures are as often as today, I’ll ring to get an appointment with the Doctor. Life is getting more complicated now.
Poor little sausage! Hehehe!

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TTFN, Each!
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Inchy: Saturday 15th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Friday 14th February 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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SMUG MODE ENGAGED
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Continued from yesterday
This Friday, I feel horrible and grottier…
More depressed than when I was a gravedigger,
Mindful of failures, thoughts gongoozler,
I mustn’t moan & be a gossipmonger,
Emotions, thoughts like a mental-galumpher,
A change in my luck would be a game-changer!
: : : : :
Plots, decision-making harder, see a headshrinker?
Depression strikes; it’s like getting a mental haymaker,
With sudden spots of uncaring contentment, however,
Following each low, it seems scarier, hairier,
The Sod ’em mode returns with spirits even higher?
Depression; I’m becoming a Harrumpher!
: : : : :
What I’d give for a sanity-reinstaller,
Now my thoughts have caught implicature,
I’m worried about life’s confusing infrastructure…
And the brain neurotransmitters & infostructure,
I’m feeling much more insecure…
Oddly, on the lows, I feel so immature!
: : : : :
When on a high, I’m no joypopper,
In fact, I can be a bit of a jester,
On a low, my mind was like a junketeer,
Back comes a high, & I’m joyfuller,
Doing a crossword, or a jigsaw,
These up moments are much janglier!
: : : : :
On a high: Life seems so much kinder,
A low, life gets instantly knottier,
They’re like a mental-kneecapper,
A high returns, back to things kindlier
Depression, again, is a mental killer!
I feel done up like a kipper!
: : : : :
I feel I could turn back to the liquor…
With depression sent me by Lucifer,
In life, I’m just a leaseholder…
The home had no electricity but a walk-in larder,
The shop I had turned out to be a lossmaker,
Now depressions, life is lurider!
: : : : :
Hello! I’m feeling mirthfuller!
Or is this, though, just misconjecture?
I don’t want to misinfer,
But I feel far less mustier,
Huh! depression back, the meddler,
Suddenly, I’m back in an emotional mire!
: : : : :
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Seizures can affect people differently, depending on which part of the brain is involved. I know!

Some seizures cause the body to jerk and shake, while others cause problems like loss of awareness or unusual sensations. They typically pass in a few seconds or minutes.
Seizures can occur when you’re awake or asleep. Sometimes, something can trigger them, such as feeling very tired after exercising. I’ve got them…

Simple partial (focal) seizures or ‘auras’
A simple partial seizure can cause:
A general strange feeling that’s hard to describe.
I’ve got these as well…

A “rising” feeling in your tummy – like the sensation in your stomach when on a fairground ride.
(Too true!) I’ve got them…

A feeling that events have happened before (déjà vu).
Spot on! I’ve got them…

Unusual smells or tastes.
(Oh, yes), I’ve got them…

Neurological Tingling in your arms and legs. An intense feeling of fear or joy.
(Too true!) I’ve got them as well…

Stiffness or twitching in parts of your body, such as an arm, joint, or hand. Twitching Neck Nigel, Shoulder Shuddering Shirley, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete Hitler Salutes, & Leg Dances – got them all!

You sometimes remain awake and can often be unaware while this happens. I know, I’ve got them too!

These seizures are sometimes known as “warnings” or “auras” because they can be a sign that another type of seizure is about to happen.
Yes, I’ve got these, as well!


Tonic seizures: Your muscles can suddenly become stiff, like the first stage of a tonic-clonic seizure. This might mean you lose balance and fall over.
I went tumbled twice yesterday!

If you have a seizure, your GP may refer you to a specialist to determine the cause. Hahaha!

You’ll usually see a neurologist, an expert in conditions affecting the brain and nerves.
I’ve done that, waiting for surgery. Hope they can remove Dementia Doreen. Hehe!

They’ll want to find out more about your seizure and may suggest having some tests.
The Doctor? Not mine!
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Depressed for so long today!
Can’t shake them off, but I keep going into the opposite state, a sort of ‘Sod It’ I’m Not Bothered’ mode every now and then?
Singing, uncaring, amazing. The up modes are rare but lovely despite them being short periods. ‘Deep-Depression-Duncan’ (DDD) keeps returning for no apparent reason?
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I had a decent but short sleep. I nodded off early and sprang awake in a DDD mood at 03:30hrs.
Changed the catheter bags, and visited the wetroom..
Beyond Messy!

Had a wash and did the medication, no shaving.
The right ankle ulcer looked less inflamed than yesterday. Electric shocks have been shooting up my right leg on and off all day today. The seizures were less frequent than usual, although I did have one before getting the computer on. That lasted for an aeon. Well, it felt like it. But I did no work on the computer. I found that I’d changed the clock calendar.

I got myself all involved in doing some more word-finding for the Odes. I’m addicted. I have no idea why. I spent hours on Word Hippo. I still have not completed the first file!

Carer Chris and then Carer Joanne made the first two calls.

In the late afternoon, I went to make a brew of tea in a vain effort to rid myself of DDD. The garden man had another fire on the go, so I got the Kodak Tim and took two snaps.
The fire looked a little larger than on Thursday.
At one stage, I thought the trees may set alight.
But no, all was well. The chap seems in control.
But what is he burning? Doesn’t matter really.

I got the blog done and sent it off to WP. Then, I went on the WP reader. Some great posts on there today

Caught the sun, a rarity in the sky today.
I don’t think there will be a sunset tonight.

Went on the WP comments.

I’m waiting for the teatime Caregiver, so I plan to prepare a meal. Potato cakes, perhaps? With garden peas? Nordic bacon? Beetroot? Pickled onions?
Of course, if DDD returns, I may not bother eating at all. But I hope I’m not tempted like I was last night to crack open the cider and beer. I didn’t, but it was a close thing! I’m sick to death of these repeating low spells today; I hope DDD does not return again. Dare I dream?

Potato cakes, fishcakes, tomatoes, beetroots.
A simple meal for a simple dimwit.
I loved it!
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I washed the pots and settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV. Which I did. As I sat there in a ‘high-mode-mood’, enjoying the storyline, and the commercials came on the box, I thought it advisable to nip and check in the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running, the oven on, or the fridge and freezer door ajar. So, I did just that!
As I stood up to catch my balance, I felt my left foot was wet, which made me investigate… Yes! Once again, the release valve on the day the catheter had opened was probably my fault, and I’d involuntarily peed into my slipper!

Now, I faced the dauntingly painful task of getting the wet sock off. What a struggle! I had to stick the picker-upper-grabber on the toe end of the sock and try to pull the foot away to start freeing the sock. Bearing in mind the agony from as I bent the knee, I gave that effort up.
I got the diabetic sock as far down as I could with the help of the picker-upper-grabber. This was not very successful—a little like me in life! I took a tumble. But an hour later, I felt exhausted after struggling to get back up. However, at long last, I’d got the sock off. I think I ought to apply for some kind of medal? Hehehe!

I had to soak the socks in powder and disinfectant in the sink’s bowl. Then, I used the carpet cleaner and freshener around the recliner spillage area. I spread tons of kitchen towels and trod on them again several times.

I was exhausted and was now suffering from the attentions of Back-Pain-Brenda, Cartilage Chloe, Electric Shocking Sherida, and Anne Gyna.

I sprayed the slipper and put it in with the laundry for washing.

I rinsed the diabetic socks I’d left soaking, wrung them out, and put them on a coat hangar to dry above the kitchen sink.

The next job was to clean the left foot. I used the overworked kitchen bowl again. Throughout these disablingly painful procedures, Dark Dank Depression Duncan did not bother me, nor, as far as I’m aware, did I have any seizures.

Carer Chris did the last check call. No socks to take off tonight. Amazed that I’d taken off myself. (So was I, Humph!)
The lad took the laundry bag with the socks down for me, along with the waste bag.

Life can be so disturbing & worrying. Hehe!
Every Day a Challenge…
Well, bring them on, mush!

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All the ‘Best of Luck’ sent through the ether!

Inchy: Thursday 13th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I no longer seek an admirer,
Anyone to be an adorer,
One thing I’d like to acquire…
Is for someone to answer,
From someone like an augurer,
Why my life’s not been aglitter!
: : : :
To say why life’s been a bugger!
I’d have liked to have been brainier,
I tried to be a bagpiper,
To have been less of a blunderer,
I was born to become a blooper,
In life, I’ve always felt like a beginner…
: : : :
Not that I want to be a complainer.
With age, I’ve become more crotchetier,
I was never a gambler or cardplayer,
I didn’t want to become a conqueror,
I was bare, down to earth, not cavalier,
I admit to being a clodhopper.
: : : :
I’d sooner have been a dragonslayer,
But in reality, I’m more of a doomsayer,
Generally, I’ve fallen into disfavour,
Making me become a despairer,
Life’s becoming ever-drearier,
Harassed by seizures and dementia,
: : : :
Ailments taught me to be an endurer,
I should press on – but don’t feel too eager,
Should I see a medic or physic-examiner,
I not looking for a life-extender…
More interested in being an escaper,
The bliss of being an Earth expirer.
: : : :
Looking back, I wish I’d been flirtier,
I turned out funnier but freakier,
Like Keir Starmer the UK Führer,
A new movement must foregather,
With leaders up for going farther…
I bet it’ll be a pensioner or farmer!
: : : :
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– –Doing Well, Again!– –
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I’m so sorry, but depression is rampant.
Overriding the electric shocks up the leg.
Thankfully, Anne Gyna has been easy on me.
Can’t win them all! Humph!
Creativity is a minimum, as is the desire to bother.
I apologise again.
I’m still making up the 200 files I permanently deleted a month ago in readiness for my return to real life. I just can’t concentrate and have this overpowering desire to replace some of the word sheets from scratch. Nothing else got done much at all, really. I did get the early morning ablutions, shower, and shaving done by 06:30hrs because the ups and downs regularly changed to a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ happiness. To the other extreme of frustration and depression, especially early today. I was up at 03:30hrs, waking in a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ mode that kept reversing. No middle-of-the-road, either unstoppably on a high or sinking back into depression. 
I’d done the shaving, showering, and medicationalisations, and they were all on a high note. All finished and sank down again. Then I got this bug to make up some lost word lists from scratch. Done nothing else, really; I just can’t get it together.

I took a few pictures this morning, but the afternoon was spent on this stupid idea of making up some word lists.
I still do not have them on the blog, but I’ve started on it, although it will be sparse. I’ve used the camera for some photos and left the SD card from last night in the computer thingy slot. So, I hope they can be got at them. I’ll give it a go now… with a bonkers guilt about stopping the word list-making. This is just not natural. But what is?
I will book an appointment in the morning for any time I can get into the surgery with the Doctor; I’m genuinely worried now with Anne Gyna and the Seizures being so regular. The Catheters are getting cunning now, although they have not given way yet today. That threat remains. I need to make time to write down things that I am concerned about, and I will try to be more forceful and make her listen to them all. But I forget so quickly… I’m determined to.
There may not be a blog for a few days, but I’ll try to make a few notes and keep you all informed. Let’s see if I can access the photos taken, not that there are many.

Well, it took me ages and repeated tries, but I got them into CorelDraw on the fourth attempt. I thought the computer would let me save them this time.
Yee-Ha!
0345hrs Morning shot.

Rubbish bag to the doorway.

I had never had so many cuts shaving before. Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was the main culprit; after shaving, she stopped again. Huh! Still, they were all tiny ones and didn’t bleed a lot. And I didn’t bang my head!
The ankle ulcer had some odd-looking growths coming up. The electric shocks up the leg were on & off all day long.

As I dressed after the medicationings.
Depression arrived. No logical reason.
Nothing had changed, but this did not stop
the , and
he stayed with me until around 17:00hrs.
Then and the ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered.’
happiness mode kicked in. This situation has been
reversed so many times without cause
or reason. Up, down, up, down.
I must add this to the list in the morning.

I got the clock calendar undated.
And a mug of Glenettie.

Then, I lost myself and did nothing besides the word list for the ode and, eventually, the ode itself.

I did make a mug of 99 Co-op tea later.
Taking these photos.
When Sam did her 2nd call, I showed her the pictures from the camera. What is it he’s burning every Thursday?

I’m going to get some food cooking.

Back in the morning, I suppose.
TTFN.

This feast tasted so lovely, and I tucked into it.
Part-way through &
returned. Why? When I happily ate while watching
my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ on the box, with a
contented glow, seconds before?
I just stopped eating and threw it away.

Carer Chris called. Medications issues, he got the diabetic socks off for me. Christopher attached the nocturnal catheter bag for me. 

At least sleep came early. A broken, ever-jumping, awake session. In the end, I got up at 03:35hrs.
With the irritating desire to get the rhyme words upadted.
But resisted it. For a while!

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Cheers!
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Inchy Wednesday 12th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I seem to have acquired more blameworthiness,
Does this come from my apparent guiltworthiness?
Or possibly, from my innocence & guiltlessness?
May it be due to my banal gullibleness?
It could be from my gutlessness or gutsiness,
My seizure episodes that bring gormlessness?
My life lived with no moments of being gregarious?
Or my periods of excessive garrulousness?
A lifetime of receiving sideways glances?
Undoubtedly, my depression and gloominess?
Or my lack of confidence, which is ginormous?
My infected brain has a certain grotesqueness,
My ageing body shows signs of ghostliness,
Mind & body decaying, it’s getting grievous,
As I mentioned earlier, always the guiltiness,
My search for painlessness was gainlessness,
Surviving life’s been a stab in the dark, a guess!
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Not the best of days.

At least I got some good sleep. It was broken, of course, but I reckon I still enjoyed a whopping seven hours. Nice!
The nocturnal pouch clour was another 4 on the NHS scale. With the Health Checks doing so well, I was well-pleased, to say the least.

A morning of mini-seizures. I’m not surprised; I was notified of a change in living circumstances late in the day. My own fault; only me or Doreen Dementia is to blame.

The seizures didn’t help. I struggled with the odeing and spent far too much time (Over four hours) trying to flow right. I’m not all that sure I improved it.

No confidence today. Plenty of the ankles sending electric shocks up the ankle, and the seizures, albeit they were short ones, I think, handicapped my brainpower.

A morning shot of the kitchenette view.

Adjusted the calendar clock.

And the biggest, well, most prolonged Seizure ever visited me.
I cannot recall much; the blanks were long.

In the late afternoon, I got the letter hand-delivered informing me about the upcoming changes.

Oh, I’ve not put the delivery photos on yet. So, I will.
Some of my favourite eats were delivered.
But I was not in the mood to feel cheerful
about anything.

The Natoora tomatoes were a bit soft, but I used them in the meal later. They were tasty!
Chessy-topped cobs.
I’ll have two of them tonight.
The fridge was looking fuller now.

Now it’s Nosh Time.
Battered onion rings were done in the oven.
The mini Spanish tomatoes were thrown away; they tasted terribly bitter. All else was eaten.
In my depression, I forgot to score the taste.
And cannot remember what I gave it.

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Cheerio Each!
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Inchy: Tuesday 11th February 2025

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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A PROBLEM-SOLVING ODE
I have difficulty nowadays with problem-solving,
They keep coming, constantly revolving,
Solutions, Dementia is abnegating,
With her, I find myself argufying,
Neither side prepared for amnestying,
She seems against consciousness-expanding,
Memory-Mangling-Malcolm is not attenuating,
I spend far too much time error-correcting,
Instead of problem ameliorating,
Anne Gyna refuse pain subjugating,
My brain is beyond any aestheticising,
And I cannot take any more criticising,
Nit-picking, mockery or Starmer’s lying,
Crooked politicians, I find aggravating,
To hopes, I am no longer clutching,
I find life fatiguing and debilitating,
For Starmer, the hatred I’m harbouring,
His lack of compassion is inturbidating,
The Labour Party he is torpefying…
With his lying, fiddling & cheating,
His hatred of pensioners is unrelenting
He financially crippled anyone farming,
Thus, I find myself Starmer vernacularising!
Pensioners he has robbed & now he’s killing,
How he’s escaped prosecution is concerning,
He knows the crimes of others? It’s unnerving,
Is this why the opposition isn’t even chiding?
If they did, may they be in for good hiding…
Does he know of others’ financial juggling?
How to stop him? Revolution energising,?
To get my hopes pulsating, piquing…
To read of his painful, slow dying,
I’d celebrate by doing much imbibing!
It’s past time that he should be resigning,
Each day the git stays, the more I’m spitting!
I’ve few teeth left, but they are gritting…
He should leave, take up birdwatching,
Best suited would-be Emus; Australian,
With his record, he needs chloroforming,
With his cabinet, there’s been little conferring,
Apart from his drinks cabinet, port drinking,
He needs help, maybe some counselling,
By the Grim Reaper would be a good thing!
Assassination, I’m not considering…
Although assassination has a comforting ring…
His decisions may soon start boomeranging,
If the end comes, & he goes… that’ll be bracing,
Starmer will need swiftly replacing,
Mayhap by a druid or a droid, it’s complicating,
Or a human being, with his nature contrasting…
One who isn’t always fiddling or lying?
But to find  an honest MP may be disillusioning,
One fit enough to do Prime Ministering…
Especially one that is morality-emitting,
One who is history-free of lying & fornicating…
An honest MP? It’s just an impossibility!
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04:40hrs: I stirred back into ersatz life. I waited for Twitching Neck Nigel to ease off. Nigel was accompanied by a few of Eric’s electric ankle shocks, which were shooting up my right leg. I think that Lymphorrhea Leslie is beginning to swell enough to burst again. But come the late afternoon, Anne Gyna became the worst ailment, even than the seizures, pure pain, and I was gasping with it as I walked back from Sherwood after shopping in the rain, but I mustn’t complain, and going to the dentist and cake shop. Not for me! 

I used the small picker-upperer to get some cream on the ankle. Then, I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day Catheter bag. I realised I had time to go before getting dressed to go to the dentist, and I sorted the waste bags out as the first job. 
I decided to have just one mug of Co-op 99 tea and cut the water drinking out. I hope the catheter bag does not overfill while I’m in Sherwood. Before concentrating on what I need to do and take with me, I have a bus pass, keys, cash, card, and Bisoporol Fumerate in case Anne Gyna kicks off. Would you believe that I forgot to put some in my pocket? What a twit!
I took a couple of shots from the kitchenette window of view on offer to the right and left.
These didn’t come out too badly. The few snaps I took while out in the rain, legging it back up Winchester Street Hill, were terrible efforts.

I got the things needed in the walker and my pockets. (Well, as I said, I did forget to take the Beta-Blockers!

I put my feet in a bowl with an antiseptic disinfectant and soaked them while brushing my teeth and then shaving. I had so many cuts shaving this morning that counting them was hard. Haha! 7+ is my guesstimate! I spent much time stopping the little bleeders’ flow, but the Brut aftershave eventually won.

I got some more Germolene cream on Lymphorrhea, Leslie. Then dropped the tube… hitting myself on the head on the sink. I precisely targeted yesterday’s injury as I bent down to retrieve it! Looking at this selfie, I seemed to have acquired more bruises than I thought. Of course, they could have been from last night’s Whoopsiedangeplop? 

The innards rumbled and grumbled as I left the wet room, and I got down on the WC post-haste! Had I not been naked and I’d had to remove a dressing gown and nightshirt, I’m sure I would never have got down in time! This would have been another major embarrassing incident to clean up!

I got the medicationings done in a short time. My concentration was elsewhere, you see. I wanted to get at least a little done on the blog. I adjusted the old-fashioned clock calendar. I made another brew of 99 tea. Somehow, I failed to drink the first one earlier on.

Arrived on the first call. I had just gone into a Seizure Mode. Events are a little vague. I feel she helped me with the bus timetable. I can’t understand why I have this Arithmaphobia about numbers, time, etc. Dementia Doreen, I assume, getting worse and spreading her control.

I pressed on with the blog and got Mondays posted. Not a good one, but at least I got it out.
Returned to do the Domestic. I was fully with it this time. She helped me get the diabetic socks on, explained the buses, and checked on my appointment with the dentist. She also cleaned for me. Bless her.

DENTIST SHERWOOD VISIT: I still can’t realise I left the Beta-blockers behind. But I think I’d got everything else I needed. I intended to walk down the hill and get the bus back up. But it turned out the opposite. As I was going out, Carer Sam arrived, and she walked me to the Winwood Court lobby. As I approached the bus stop and walked past it, I noticed a bus was due in two minutes. So, I caught it. Made a mess of getting myself sat down as Cartilage Chloe gave way on me. Two passengers helped me get off the bus four stops later in Sherwood. There are some kind folks. I appreciated that cause I was having a seizure at the same time that I got off the bus. My thanks go to them! 

As I crossed the road to visit the Heron Store for the first time, the rain started splattering down. I remembered the pork knuckle, Pork Pie with egg, and potato waffles they used to sell in the Bulwell store, and my taste buds were already tingling as I went in and made my way to the fresh food fridges.
They had none of my favourite foods on the shelves they used to stock long ago. Sob!
However, looking at the receipt when I got home, I’d spent £16 with them. Cellotape, treats for the Carers and nurses, Easter eggs, and some Schweppes Tonic Water with watermelon. I did not realise what I was spending at the time due to a three-minute seizure at the checkout. I felt it coming, coped with it, then realised I was not with it.

Up the hill to the Dentist. A complete stranger saw me struggling to get the walker shopping bag up the 4 steps outside the front door of the surgery. Bless her. ♥
I’d never have made it without her tremendous help.
I got into the reception, only to find that I had got the wrong time for the appointment! I was 1½hrs early! The lady looked at me with a sideways glance. I responded by saying not to worry, that I had my crossword book and pen with me, and I apologised for getting the timing wrong.
I moved into the waiting area. And started on the crossword book. Amazingly, I got a few answers, too! 
The receptionist told me they had rearranged the dentists, and I could go to the surgery in a minute to be seen by another dentist. A minute later, she indicated that I could go in now. 
The Dentist had an investigation into the state of my teeth. Summing up, he said you will need significant surgery; are your teeth too painful. I waffled on about the pain spray I used almost daily, and he said the same as the other dentist said on the last four visits; We’ll see how you go; they should be alright until then, don’t you think? OK, I said.
Went to pay the receptionist. £30. Who helped me & my shopping down the 4 steps at the front door.

The rain was heavier now, but that did not deter me from going to the cake shop to buy some cream cake treats for the staff. 
Unbelievably, as the lady asked which cakes I wanted, I delved into another seizure. Asked her to pick them for me. Paid with my bank card, and as I went out, I read the receipt,  £8.90. 
I’ve spent a bit today.

I decided to take a different route back up to the flats. Instead of going down Mansfield Road and up Winchester Street Hill back to the apartments, I went down Hallem Road and around Winchester Hill. En route, the rain had disturbed all the mud from the many trees being cut down. They were pushing their roots up and cracking the pavement tarmac.
I felt sorry for this one on the left. I can see beauty in trees, and I had a little natter to this one as I passed it.
Don’t laugh! Hehe!
As I got onto Winchester Hill and turned left, up towards the flats, I took this snap on the right.
And the heavens opened up! The rain flooded down, and I tried to protect the things in the bag from getting soaked. But, worse…
Suddenly, it got the worst she’d been, pain-wise, for years. But I was not surprised in the least. The struggle up the hill had annoyed her. I was stopping to get even wetter every few minutes and let the stabbing pains from ease off.
Half an hour later, I’d reached the level of the flats. Anne Gyna eased off for a few minutes when I hobbled along on the straight, even, flat Chestnut Walk.
I felt so much better when I got into the Winwood Court complex. I dropped the cakes off, and they gave me the list of my banking details; bless them both.

I felt weary but contented at having made the little trip without any real . And feeling good. I got up to the apartment and dried myself off. Emptied the catheter pouch, got the kettle on, and put the purchases away.
Ah, I forgot I’d bought some beer-battered chips & onion rings. I might have them for tonight’s meal. If I ever get this blog started, that is. I opened the watermelon soda bottle and got on with updating this blog.

Carer Chris arrived. His new daughter, whose name he gave me, is in fine shape. I forgot her name, and I asked him twice.

It’s late now, so I’ll get summat made to eat. Carer Chris will be calling again soon.

Bad News. My own fault.

I’ll report it tomorrow.

If I can.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Sunday 9th February 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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