Functional Neurological Disorder

Inchy: Tuesday 25th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Doing the right thing can leave you unrewarded,
Helping, sometimes, often, goes unrecorded,
But does it stop you from acting antideluvially?
To you, you’re just acting humanly,
Not wanting to be praised or highly regarded,
Without wishes to be refunded,
That would offend your gigmanity,
Like me, to defend your anonymity
Lest your generousness is noticed by Starmer,
He may sense he can get a backhander!
Especially if you’re a farmer or pensioner!
Your pension may get cut or rescinded,
You may get financially wounded,
By HMG’s mobsters and felonry…
Starmer so disgusts me!
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A busy enough day without my forgetting that the water was being turned off for a few hours while the maintenance team was working on a repair or adjustment for a few hours.
Which meant more confusion for my addled-seizure-prone brain. Someone was here while I had a non-epileptic seizure again. Getting embarrassed at these incidents.
A flash blog today.
If possible, I must complete the much-belated ablutions, and time is getting late and short. First, I have to see if the water is back on.
Ah, well, I’ll do what I can from the notes and photos taken.
Tomorrow is going to be busy as well. Thursday could be the humdinger if the doctor decides I need to go in for help and assistance. What am I saying? Haha!
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You may ask why my urine is in the day bag jug?
Or, of course, you may not… I’ll tell yer. Last night, I fell asleep before putting the night bag on. The day bag was nearly bursting when I woke up at 03:30 hrs. It pulled as I stood up, not realising I had not put on the three times more oversized night bag, and… well… 
ARGH!
I naturally have a pain-resistance level far above others. Being the young, fit, athletic type of person that I am, I merely laughed off the entire incident.  I smiled as I wiped away the blood running out from down my leg and foot and sang a song to myself as I cleaned up the carpet.  

I visited the wet room and got settled on the Porcelain Throne.
A Fantastic Session!
For the first time in weeks, neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad controlled; the extremes did not rule the roost! Trotsky had an advantage, though, but not too much mess. And coming out to the kitchen, I was Anne Gyna pains-free!

I got Kodak Tim 2 and took a couple of photographs of the early morning view on offer. The top one is to the right, left one to the left. Maybe it was not my best effort, but that didn’t matter then. I decided to get the kettle on to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and then get on with updating yesterday’s blog; it was nice and early yet, so I assumed catching up and posting the blog should be easier than usual, and I could get on with this blog sooner than normal. Well, getting the update completed went pretty smoothly. It took a few hours. I posted it and decided to get the ablutions and medications done…
Then I remembered the situation of no water on tap.
I’ll have to do it this afternoon or night. There is no way I will boil water and carry it to the wet room to enable me to get a shave. The last time I had to do that, it resulted in some injuries and a right mess to clean up.
So, I wet some clothes in the sink from the kettle with Dettol and dabbed myself a bit with it. Hahaha!

I cleaned the kitchen window in cold water and warmed it with water from the kettle and spirit vinegar.

Carer Chloe arrived for the first call. Medicines were issued, and diabetic socks were put on. While doing this, I realised the catheter day bag was getting filled, so I emptied it into the jug. While talking to Chloe, as she stood up to check the taps, she pointed out that the day bag was leaking! And I thought things were getting better! What a fool!
I had not shut the release valve. Now, I had to clean the freshly put-on socks and the carpet again, which cost me a lot of time.

The landline chirruped. The DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse advised me she would come in the morning between 10 and 1100 hrs to take the blood. I’m not sure I’ll have much available after Little Inchy’s tube-tugging session earlier. Hehe! I put it on the Google Calendar to be safe.

Carer Chloe arrived to do the domestics, which she couldn’t do without water. She helped check some Emails for me and did the hoovering.

I was not in good condition as it was, but the seizure kicked off again, and my concentration was terrible.

The Iceland Delivery Arrived
There seemed to be a lot of bags. Then I realised I’d bought many Cheeze-It wafers, like… Nine Bags! Guilt!
They do taste delicious, though!
Does the fridge still have room in it?
I topped up the Carers & Nurses treat boxes.
I love the mini Toffee Crisp bars. Just enough for me.

Carer Sam came. We had a little natter.

I, at last, made a start on this blog.
Then I realised I’d still have the templates for March to do!
So be it. Last month, I completed them in less than three hours. I’ll aim to complete them within the same time. Here I go, with a start time of 17:00 hrs.

I’ve Done Them!
By 1855hrs! Honestly!

Varer Chris arrived while I was on the templates.
Medications given.

Now, my plan is to get something to eat!
Nordic Bacon (lots of it), roasted onions, cheese cracker biscuits and cheezies, cheese-topped rolls with Marmite.
I ate about half of it. Just made too much of it. Tsk!

Carer Chris called, returning the laundry bag. We had a little laugh & natter as he took the socks off for me.

Washed the pots and got down 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. To watch some TV documentaries. Zzzz!

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Catch you later, Pip-Pip
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Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

Famous for my ability to talk bilgewater,
A bumbling-babbling, foolish blooter,
Searching for acquaintances that are boshter,
But always something of a boondoggler,
Then came a new ailment, bradykinesia!

I had a mini-todger, questionable cisgender,
I’ve still got it attached to a catheter…
Bald, so no worries over my coiffure,
Accepted as a bypasser or circumventor.
Never a winner, a 3rd place I’d chanticleer!

I’ve become an expert, frequent dégringoler,
Never was a fraud, cheat or deceiver,
Now, I suffer from dementia & dysphoria,
Unlike Starmer, I’m no denunciator,
The wrong word to describe me? Debbonaire!

Coffin-waiting, yet things can still enrapture,
A natter, laugh with a friendly talker…
CBD, magic mushrooms with elderflower,
Of course, I no longer use the chest expander,
Finances dwindling, so I must curb my expenditure!

I’ve led my life candidly, honestly, foursquare,
Getting annoyed at things that are not fair,
Like Starmer, PM, who lied to win, fibber!
Who loves a backhander, the freeloader,
Guaranteed to cheat, lie & work a flanker!

I’ve never been a dynamo, hero or go-getter,
I got cataracts then and still have glaucoma,
My failing brain & body is getting me grumpier,
I’ve avoided being a grammaticaster…
Now I’ve become a graphomania!

I’m an expert on my haemodynamometer,
But the stomach & body is getting heavier,
Mentally, I anticipate getting habromania,
There’s not much in my brain for it to hinder…
Only Dementia, my brain’s house-sitter!

We’ve Starmer, every day getting iffier,
Putin, who’s several countries inferior,
Hamas, Israel, peace inviting…
Amhara, Yemen, with Houthi insurgency,
Ethiopia, Myanma, Paraguay… insanity!

No wonder the world is getting jitterier,
Proletariats just want it to be joyfuller,
Leaders going for the citizens’ jugular,
Janitor, junior, juror, or justificator?
We have Starmer, the lying junketeer!

I find myself becoming more klutzier,
And unfortunately, more knaggier,
And maybe a snip more kludgier,
My ageing body, positively knurlier,
If only Starmer would act kindlier!

Can Starmer’s reign get any lousier?,
Can I get any more loonier?
I things go right, will I live any longer?
Do I want to? Can I get livelier?
Can I rid myself of this lacklustre?

Will Keir get even more of a miser?
£160,976 a year for Nottingham’s Mayor,
She is Councillor Carole McCulloch,
Why does the East Midlands have a Mayor?
Clare Ward, £93,000 a year, did I mishear?
A deputy Mayor on £46,500, Holy Mother!,

The end of the World is drawing near…
Maybe not caused by anything nuclear,
Possibly by a Green Peace neglecter,
Oligarchs, wars, or my Auntie Nora?
God, Allah or Jesus from Nigeria?

The end of the World is now less obscure!
Humankind will be the orchestrator,
A World leader on an overnighter…
To prove they are richer, the best occulter?
The most efficient proletariat ostraciser?

I now get more confused with my photocopier,
Camera, computer, & getting to Jupiter,
Anything mechanical, & phantasmagoria,
Also, of course, my own psychasthenia,
Not to mention my bladder parasitemia!

My right testicle went all quadrangular,
Had I a disease, a bug, a queller?
This concerned my partner & querida,
She said I’ve seen things queerer!
She’s such a quick quipster!

Life may yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!
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I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap. 

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,
One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,
I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,
I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say… 
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
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I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

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

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

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

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

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

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

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

Inchy Friday 21st February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I’m not so acrobatic, more aquabatic…
When the catheter plug refuses to stick,
Tablets, creams and antiseptic,
A tendency towards being apathetic,
Learned today I’m agammaglobulinemic,
Realised that I’m obsolete, old, and antique,
Hopes & abilities, are not within my ambit,
I’d be better off out of it, abiotic…
More problems today got me apoplectic,
Life is a struggle, with little aleatoric,
Seizure troubles, Depressions… amphigoric!
I’m just stating life’s assertoric,
Everyday calamities, all amphigoric,
Not long ago, I was carefree, apolaustic,
Contentment? I long ago lost it…
World leaders turn greedy & autarchic,
Leaders used to be so moralistic…
Humankind’s future is but apocalyptic…
Catastrophic, cataclysmic, adiaphoristic!
Starmer ruins the UK, not apologetic,
To honesty & compassion, he must be allergic,
To self-wealth, Keir is apolaustic,
I’d like to buy him a soda, caustic!
He seems so stoic, sardonic, & satanic,
The fact that he’s scholastic,  semantic,
He doesn’t seem to understand sympathetic,
Backhanders taken, the crooked schmuck!,
Labour’s values he does besmirch,
His speeches are hypnotic, soporific,
He is beyond being fair or sociologic,
When he talks, it’s rhetoric
With lies, deceit, all plethoric,
Is it possible for words to be pathogenic?
Cause his lies make me sick, phrenic!
His unwarranted greed is so apodictic,
His behaviour is psychosomatic,
His biggest lies used by pretermit,
His known lies have been so plethoric,
Sorry about this rant; was it poetic?
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It’s been a nightmare today. It is now 17:40 hrs, and I’ve got the above done. It’ll be well into the morning before I get this done—if then! I’m going to have to rush, so mistakes and timings may well confuse you and me! Sorry. I’ll just accept Grammarly’s suggestion, even if it seems wrong. I’ve a lot to get through cause I had some mega-muck-ups. Not early on, things went decently, but as you can work out from my errors, the pain caused Anne Gyna to tear into me when I was uptight about the happenings. I’ll try not to go into too much minutiae and still get the message across.

I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning.
I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had things bleeding later on.
To the kitchen, took a snap.
Smidge brown sky? Tons of scribble I can’t read on the notepad here. Late on in the day, the Glaucoma seems to get much worse each night.
I’ll pick out the bits I can read.

Carer Joanne’s first call. Had a small but plwant nattwe and moan about things. We do that!
Ah, I did get the Thursday blog finished. A call was made on the intercom, and I assumed the supply of catheter bags was arriving. But no one arrived at the door. Now, a problem. Someone might be on the way up if I get dressed and go down to see if they had left it in the foyer. Left it a while longer. By now, the thought of them getting nicked got me all uptight, and Anne Gyna started; on the way to the lift and down to the ground floor, I had several mini seizures. As I exited the lift, Carer Joanne was getting in with my laundry, bless her.  
We found a box that had been left in the lobby. It was from Parsley Box, the ready meals. Joanne carried it with me back to the flat. When I got in, an email said it had been delivered to the customer. This wrangled me. Joanne kindly hung the things up for me, and I emailed DHL and Parsley Box. Here’s a copy. Both were the same. 

After I admitted the DHL driver to the flats, the parcel was left in the ground floor lobby. 
After getting dressed, I went down to look in the lobby. Then, suffering from Anne Gyna and a seizure, I was lucky enough to bump into a Carer as I got out of the lift.
Carer Joanne tended to me and carried the box to the flat. 
She will complain to Parsely Box and explain that I dare not order anything again for fear of the same thing happening again. It involved just too much hassle and physical pain. I live in this Warden-Aided Block of Flats (Flat 72, 12th floor), where the box is usually dropped off at my door.
I am disabled and not in good health, which is why I was ordering Parsley box meals.
I’m not seeking compensation; I’m just disappointed and need to look for a different supplier.

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I had a bit of a mess with the lift in the first place.
But can’t read enough to say more.
I got an email from the Post Office about delivery coming tomorrow, but not the catheters. Also, the prescriptions have not arrived, although they may have been dropped at the Carers office. I’ll phone the chemist in the morning.

It’s no good I can’t read things here. I’ll get the photos taken; they may trigger my non-existent memory.
Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done.
Emptied the Parsley Box meals.
Stake Hotpot.
Corned Beef Hash.
My favourite one here!

Tomatoes, they all had something in common…
The tomatoes, I mean.Miniature bottles of shandy.

After Anne Gyna calmed down, the Mini Seizures
started, and she could do nothing for ages, and didn’t.

Carer Chris made the teatime call at around 17:15hrs, and the medications were given.

I will go on the WP Reader and then clean the place up a smidgen. Get some nosh now. I thought I’d got bread in the freezer, but I haven’t. So, I’ll have loads of Nordic bacon instead to fill me up.
The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.

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Fare Thee Well!
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Inchy: Thursday 20th February 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’ve often been maladjusted, & maladministered,
My mind has often mused and meandered…
To topics that were miscomprehended,
Possibly, because I’m muttonheaded,
Peripheral Neuropathy gets me misguided,
I do things, say things that are misintended,
Links, intentions get misconnected…
Wrong spellings get miscorrected,
Plans, & intentions may be misconstructed,
Deafness can make things miscommunicated,
In 1965, the UK was sadly metricated…
Another HMG con job manipulated,
Centimetres’ in, inches & feet mutilated!
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2025: UK pensioners exploited by Starmer,
Then, he overtaxed the family farmer,
Repeatedly proved he was a persistent liar,
He talks to you like an annunciator…
We’ll do this, you do the other,
His smugness & immovability is an appetiser,
Heralding, the coming political quagmire…
Resulting in his being proved an ambuscader,
No PM has had a chin that is squarer,
Shame he isn’t fairer, more honest or a carer,
His red cheeks indicate him being boozier,
He’s so smug and self-preoccupied…
Credit due, he tries to look dignified…
As he’s cheated, robbed, & lied!
A Labour man who’s been Toryfide!
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The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
A disastrous start to the day? Yes!
A busy day? Yes!
Seizure’s hampering on & off all day? Yes!
Visits? Yes!
However, progress made with the help given? Yes!
Again? Yes!
While a Carer was in attendance. Yes!
On each of the wearying, there were at least six visits. Yes!
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Last night’s kip was horrible! I was getting woken up by one thing or another again so often. I’ll try to explain the new thing I had overnight that added to the jumping awake count. In between Eric’s Electric Shocks shooting up the right leg, Twitching Neck Nigel trying to break my neck, and Shoulder Shudding Shirley trying to dislocate my right shoulder, I believe I had some nocturnal seizures as well while asleep. I don’t suppose they were that, but they shared a similarity with some of the day seizures. As with the shorter day seizures, I can often feel them coming on, and these short ones can be repetitive and usually leave me feeling a smidge confused sometimes and always feeling weary, tired and exhausted. This likely accounted for me falling back to sleep quickly after each one. I think? I had visions with them… well, I sense I had, and they all connected to my early life. The Meadows, where I was dragged up, and the Nottingham canal that I got thrown in as an ankle-snapper were both in there, amongst many of the vaguer-memoried others. 
I’m not keen on going to sleep at all tonight now.
Still, the Doctor granted me a telephone appointment for 7 days later, so if I can survive until next Thursday, I’m sure a few words over the phone will soon have me feeling better.
Sorry about that! Hehe!
Hence, The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
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05:00 hrs: I gave up on trying to get back to sleep. Although I’m sure I could have quickly enough, what prospectively awaited me had I drifted off was not appealing.
This is all new to me, the second night like it. But much worse than last night was. I suppose if it happens again tonight, I’ll have to ring the Doctor again and ask her to bring forward her 7-day appointment for an emergency appointment via a telephone call. I can go through the ‘You are 29th in the queue’. ‘You will not be talking to a doctor but a patient assessor’ once again… Tsk!   Again!

Doing the ablutions I ramped up the Accifauxpas total somewhat. The usual with the shaving, 4 today… oh, cuts!
But the whole time in the wet room, there was no sign of .
The medicationings was going well until I had to stop medicating and use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation started of with a reluctant torpedo slowly edging its way out, with some encouragement from me. Then it altered and flowed out almost liquid? Amazingly, it didn’t leave any of the usual gutwrenching pongs!
I cleaned things up and got back to the medicationing.
 I lost my balance as I got up from creaming the ingrowing toenail and fell backwards, landing on the shower chair that tipped over (well, it would with my weight hitting it, I suppose). I’d not hit the deck and stayed above the chair. I managed to haul my elephantine body back up on my legs with relative ease. As I was considering activating a , I felt the blood trickling down my left thigh. But it was not a lot. . The top holding strap must have got sticky with cream, and when I tumbled, it polled some hairs out and a bit of skin from under the belt. Despite all this, I was still in grip of . I finished the medicating and got dressed. Then, realising how far behind I was with the blog, I thought I’d better get on with the Ode first.

Carer Shaquille arrived. He fitted me with diabetic socks and handed me the medications. I asked him if he had the time to call the Social so I could order some more catheter bags, as I only had two nocturnal ones left. Just in case, I’d already ordered some from Amazon on the computer. They should be here today. So if they are, no panic mode is needed. Shaq did so for me, and it’s much appreciated. They should be here by Monday at the latest. 

.
Everything was harder to do and concentrate on, and I was badly gripped by it for several hours. I had no drive or determination at all. During this time, I’ll try to recall what happened. There was nothing on the notepad at all.
To make things worse – I couldn’t find Koak Tim 2 AGAIN!
I looked on the stovetop where I found it the other day, but no luck. What the hell’s going on with me? I got the loan camera out, but the batteries were dead. And I wasn’t confident enough to try out the leads for fear of using the wrong one. Then again, I was sure I would find where I’d left Kodak Tim. 

In the late afternoon, the Intercom rang. I thought it was the door chime, so I didn’t respond at first. Then I realised and hobbled as hastily as possible to the box, but it stopped as I reached it. So, I went downstairs in case it was the catheter bags, and they had left them in the foyer.
Down, in the lift, and as I got out, nine people were waiting to get in. I limped to the foyer but could see no sign of any parcels. Back to the lift, five people were waiting to get in, and one more arrived. I should have gotten in first, being on a high floor, but I didn’t think of it until they had all got in. Then I joined them, and it was a tight squeeze, not that I minded.

I Love it, getting captives to listen to my nattering on. Haha!

When I returned to the flat, I found the catheter bags outside the door. The day bag was a single one. £8.99. I got caught out there, moneywise, and a bag of ten nocturnal pouches for the same sodding price!

Again. There was no spell in between this time.

Relaunched attacks. And nothing got done of any value; Duncan & Sandra had got me beat.

I did have another search for Kodak Tim 2, but it was joyless. I thought I may have gone down to the lobby with it, dressed, and nipped down to investigate. Nope, it’s not there.

Carer Christopher arrived, and I asked him which charger fitted which camera. He wasn’t sure, but both connections fitted, so it should be all right. We gave him medications, chatted about the nighttime mind kerfuffle, and off he trotted. I totally forgot to ask him to have a search for the Kodak.
So, I had another search around for it. Nope!

Time to get some food. Came to life the moment I unexpectedly came across Kodak Tim 2!!!
I’ve made up two imaginary places and put the one where I found the Kodak. What do you think?
1: In the fridge?
2: In the microwave?
3: Shelf under the sink?
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I took these two photos of the sunset straight away. I don’t think I meant to take two, though. Do they look the same to you?
Maybe I kept my finger on the activation button for too long?
It could have been caused by my excitement at finding Kodak Tim 2?

Then. I got on with preparing the meal. A giant feast of beef in black bean sauce again. Two Parsley boxes. I added extra water chestnuts, extra sauce from a jar, potatoes, and a sprinkle of Pryprawa seasoning. Placed in a microwave-safe plastic tray. And guessed at microwaving them for  4 minutes. Singlely, they needed 1.5 minutes each.
I opened the door and stirred the mixture halfway through.
When it pinged, I removed the lid to see if it was heated enough. It wasn’t, so I put it back in for another minute.
This is the prepared and ready-to-gobble meal.
It was pleasant tasting and not too peppery.
But, after eating for a few minutes, I found undercooked cold bits and pieces. A shame!
Next time, I’ll give it a bit longer in the microwave.

The mood had been with me for over two hours now. And still, after I’d washed the pots, Carer Christopher made the late call! He whipped off the diabetic socks, and medications were given.

I settled into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. I turned on the TV and chose a channel with three consecutive programmes.
Heartbeat, then Sherlock Holmes. I nodded off several times when the adverts came on but saw most Heartbeat episodes. One that I’d not seen before.

Carer Christopher made his last call. No medications were needed. I was still in a mood!❤ 👍🏻 Carer Chris departed, taking my laundry bag with him.

I continued to watch the Sherlock Homes film. Edward Woodward played Sherlock differently, with less apparent overacting.
This 1990 TV movie, Hands of a Murderer, was his only portrayal of Sherlock. It’s a pity that following Basil Rathbone as Sherlock was asking a lot of any actor.

I turned off the TV and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. I know this, but I can recall nothing about the dream! I hate it when this happens. Hehe! I slept for about three hours. Then , and both almost made me bolt upright. Threw some wobblies as well. This was around 04:00 hrs, so at least I managed to skip for at least four hours! After this wake-up fracas, I could not return to the land of nod! I lay there, willing to go back to sleep. I realised that I had no Nocturnal Seizures like the previous two nights. YIPPEE!
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Today: A better Ratio of 35%,
Against, 65%

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TTFN
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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: Monday 17th February 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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!