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Implicated Inchy: Tuesday 7th May 2024 – More Mayhem

/ Inchie / 3 Comments

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05:10hrs: I woke up in the 966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner.
And released the catheter nocturnal bag from the day bag pouch. Again, a decent colour of urine had been passed overnight.
As the signs from the innards indicated a change in mode to a Trotsky Terence one, I decided to make my way to the wet room without delay. A good job I did, too. The motion started as I lowered my bottom onto the plastic Porcelain Throne cover!
The spray was almost spitting-like, out all over the WC furniture and my bum and bottom. Took me ages to get it all cleaned up.
My plump, short legs were holding up the catheter bag pouch well today. Then, the bag suddenly split open down one side. Being a cunning, if pathetic DIYer, I repaired it with some of the Elastoplast and Elephant tape I had to hand and refitted it.
I topped up the Nurse’s and Carer’s nibble boxes and went on the computer for a while. I can’t say precisely how long the computing went on as another darned Mind-Blank took me over. It might have been Carer Marie; she kept coming into my mind, and her suspicious smile was in there somewhere. I found this photo in the morning of where I’d left the diabetic socks in view to remind me to ask for them to be put on. They were on my legs alright, now. Back with it, I decided to make up some bottles of spring water, adding a little cordial to a few bottles. Off to the kitchenette, I poddled!
&
After making the drinks, I decided that, as I had the funnels out, I’d make some spray with an antiseptic disinfectant that I used to sprinkle in the catheter urine jug and waste bins. I made the mix and poured it safely and freely into the sprayers.
One: As I turned away to take the filled bottles, I knocked the topless disinfectant bottle off the draining board. I made a barb for it and sprayed the liquid out of the spout. It landed on my dressing gown, which got soaked. Then I dropped the bottle on the floor, which swizzled around, distributing the rest of its contents over the kitchen floor. I did not burst into tears! I just cursed vigorously. But I did consider crying an option! I decided to take some shots from the window, as not many had been taken with all the seizures. I genuinely wish that I hadn’t bothered now.
TWO: Now, the photos themselves came out pretty decently. In fact, I was pleased with the results.
!
As I closed the window yet again, my sleeve caught the kitchen knife box, knocking it to the floor. A degree of spitting was used in conjunction with foul language, self-insulating, and loathing outbursts that lasted for a good while. What the hell Mary in the flat below must think of me?
Well, it doesn’t take much imagination. Sorry, Mary! ♥

I set about cleaning the kitchenette floor again.
I used the Speed Mop this time to save time and bending down to wring out the big mop.
Things are looking better now in the kitchen.
But not with WordPress and or the computer I’m using.

I am having all sorts of failures. I’ll whip on what I’ve got and try to post it. Sorry about this. Google has given up on me. I’m Trying Firefox now.


Fingers crossed!

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TTFN

Iconicless Inchy: Thursday 25th April 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I was gobsmacked this morning and genuinely amazed, astonished, astounded, surprised, staggered, stopped in my tracks, stunned, dumbfounded, discombobulated, flabbergasted, knocked sideways, to the point of feeling awestruck! I had a slice of inspiration last night that I didn’t realise then. I might call it an epiphany. It is complicated to word it, but I’ll tell you about it.
Last night, I was still in agony with the Little Inchie problem, so I got a wash and felt the tribulated lower regions. Anyone with a much lesser midriff than I have would have taken a look. I had a grope around. My hand felt dried blood on the hairs. I tried tugging it off, but that was too painful, so I got the scissors, and using feel instead of sight, I riskily cut of the bloodied hair. Ouch! With the help of the now-working Codeines, the pain abated shortly afterwards. Brilliant! I went into an adopted temporary Smug Mode. 

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Up at 0:15hrs. This photo on the right shows how it came, terrible and oh so blue, of the Nocturnal Catheter pouch. I did not have the foggiest idea of what I did wrong and tried another effort. That came out spot on what my eye saw. A too-deep colourisation in the urine again. Humph!

Off to the wet room. Diverting to the kitchen en route to ensure that I’d not left the taps (faucets), cooker on, or fridge or freezer door open. I took a snap of the morning view while doing the safety checks.
Eventually, it was ruled by an iron rod—or maybe a reluctant concrete torpedo. It was one of the longest evacuations, from start to finish, ever, leaving a highly stretched, pained bottom and slight bleeding. In fact, when I rose to tackle the cleaning up and freshening, I felt a bit giddy.
A quick ablutioning session, in which I did not have a shave or clean my teeth. But there is a perfectly understandable reason for this. I forgot to!
Another duff photo of the beet and legs was taken, so I tried again, and it was much better this time. The legs are getting much thinner, and the bones are showing through now! but
are more infrequent.

I had to sort some frozen foods out, and when I checked the fridge, I found many items out of date, not that I could read many of them.
I made up two more bags of waste. I needed to make some room to get the frozen food ordered for delivery today. What a Plonker!
Carer Chris came, scoffed some nibbles and scrounged a drinkie. Hehehe! 
Then Window Cleaner Man Joe arrived. I nattered away about my problems as he did the windows. Paid the lad, and off he flew to his next client.
The Asda order arrived.
I was well pleased that they had the vegetarian sausages in again. I decided to have some for my nosh… then found that the pork pie had an eat-by-date for today on it. So, I’ll have that tonight instead.
Minutes later, the Iceland order arrived. Eight carrier bags worth were put in the doorway, and I moved them one at a time into the kitchenette,
I bought some crisps and snacks. There must have been a reason for so many, but I don’t know what it is.
The freezer was not cram-packed, and the fridge a little fullerer. I’ll not starve, that’s for sure. I think I also have a J Sainsbury order coming next Tuesday! Patties, chips, pies, sausages, a veritable feast.

Or must have hit me because I recall nothing until arrived. The bad news is that Kara is going off on holiday for two weeks, so if I have trouble with the bank, they will only talk with Carer Kara as my representative or something, and I’ll be up the creek. Going to have nobody to check my finances or orders and no one to set my heart beating. Haha! Kara fitted the new catheter bag holder on my leg for me. I hope it helps because yesterday’s pain relief for me is now starting to come back on again. Kara also brought some Codeines; bless her.

I cut the pork pie into pieces, sliced tomatoes, and spread some of the gorgeous-tasting Flora Non-Butter butter thickly on some slices of Milk Roll bread. It’s a giant round potato hash cake, and very nice, too!
What a feast it was with Heinz tomato ketchup and pickle! I got the hash brown thing frozen from Iceland. It crisped up marvellously.
I may have the other one tomorrow.
A shot taken with Kodak Tim while I was washing up came out looking somewhat eerily. Haha! Another one for the Tate Gallery to reject.

Carer Chris returned, bringing the laundry up with him. He attached the nocturnal night pouch to the catheter and whipped off my diabetic socks.
Chris selected some nibbles and a bottle of Lucozade, and then we said farewells.

I soon nodded off into a deep and miraculously uninterrupted kip. Nice!

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I wanted to buy a Volvo,
But broke, I settled for an Oxo,
I don’t drink alcohol or vino,
Now I’ve become a fatso…
Chips and marshmallow?
Ever in a mental imbroglio,
Confusion an ipso facto,
I used to do judo,
Then it was Ludo.
Not now, thanks to ailments neuro,
I blog but with many a typo,
I’m mentally all Akimbo,
Physically, I need a neuro-physio,
Life’s all saltimbanco, Cheerio!

TTFN

Inadvisability Inchy: Fri 29 Mar 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I made a deliberate mistake in this Ode; Ahem!
I wrote Further, instead of another word. Would
anyone like to guess what it should have been?
Deliberate mistake… I am a fibber!
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Moments for sheer frustration, littered with strange, weird, eerie, unaccountable moments of ‘Soditisms’.
During these spasms, I was so high that nothing seemed to bother me in the least. But, they were short and rare and were usually followed by a Depression full of self-loathing, then a realisation that I am to blame for my past guilt. Then, the circle would start again.
I think I’ve mentioned these to the Doctor, but I’m not sure. Maybe not; I’ve not seen her for many months.
On the bright side, the throughout the day, added up to only four!
I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again and burnt the food in the oven. The eyes are terrible nowadays. Any distance and things seem to have another image above themselves. Like a shadow, but clear. I’m looking now through the balcony window, and all the houses look like they have two roofs.
The catheter is a lot less painful than yesterday, mind you. My coughing has also calmed down compared to last night. I’ve walked into nothing. Fair do’s, I’ve dropped the cutlery, saucepan, washing up bottle, picker-upperer, tablets and my pen (four times).
So, all in all, a typical day.
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Night pouch.

Medicationings.

My ankles look fine.

The first emptying of the day bag.

Opening the balcony windows.

Over the next five hours, the views remained similar.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Gorgeous!
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!

I was busying away and getting a little done.
Caregiver calls only confused me. After they left, I found it nearly impossible at times to get back to what I was working on, often veering off to the wrong project and getting deeper into a mind-muddle. Memory-Blanks were rampant. For some reason, I did not keep up with the memory notes on the pad. Now, so long later (Saturday A.M. started on this section), the photos help prompt me a little. Not many of them, either. Any slight disturbance, change whatever, and I was lost again. Sorry about this

Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).

Gave up computing. I was in a long-lasting period of haziness. But can recall Carer Christopher arriving.
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
While talking, I remembered I’d left the sausages cooking in the oven… yet again!
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen.
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.

I took this night view and got settled into the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep. Immediately started an attack of lambasting, self-hating, repeating so many things, wrong choices I’d made over the tears. Even an occasion that took place when I was just an ankle-biter, which I was not proud about doing… it was horrible being forced to listen to myself, listing and bringing back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
As I tossed and twisted, I felt the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie. I 
realised then that I had not attached the Nocturnal Pouch yet. So, I did!

By the time I’d fumbled about to get the bags linked, my & both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. . I may regret saying this later, Haha!

TTFNski each!

Interfationing Inchy: Wed 27th Mar 24

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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4:00hrs: I woke feeling oddly a little sprightly (for me). As I tried to rise from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, uncomfortable, incommodious, unwelcoming and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. As I did so, gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think?  This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had , in front, along with bleeding at the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.

Then a   dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, grouchy, depressed, frustrated, bleeding, in pain, downhearted, depressed, melancholy, forlorn, glum, demoralised, fed up, down in the dumps, in the doldrums, unnerved, chagrined, miffed, sour, sulky, sullen, surly, saddened, subdued, almost sepulchral Inchy.
But within minutes, a stroke of good luck eased my misery by taking my mind off of it. As I was leaving the wet room, I clouted my head, this time on the door frame! 99% of the time, it will be the right shoulder. Blame can be attached to: ,  ,  ,   or any of the ailments really. On this occasion, the culprits were, I think, and or . The eyes are worse than ever now, and I’m sure I’ll have kicked the bucket before my turn comes for the operation. But, sorting youngsters out early is more vital. They have the prospect of living many years with their sight adjusted. We long in the tooth old things, must accept this.

This morning, the sky was a glorious blue hue again. My confusion was worse than usual for the next hour or two. I got out of the wet room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
There was a smidgen more bleeding from Little Inchy, but it’s not worth mentioning compared to the tsunami that was released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my was getting better bit by bit.

The areas where the are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. is to blame.
Getting lighter now, I took another Kodak Tim picture from the kitchen window again. The streetlights were off now.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.

Carer Shaquille arrived. I made an order the J Sainsbury’s for next week. Blogging.
Amending, blogging, correcting, blogging-getting more things wrong, blogging… well, you get the message. Tsk!
Carer Kara arrived. She sorted out the banking problem and said she would try to get in touch with Norton about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. Care Victor, did the last two calls.
I took these photos later. 
Then went into what I believe was a non-apolectic seizure. Not a mind-block. Because it was like blinking, and an hour had gone, but nothing was done whatsoever when I came around back to this miserable existence.
After the , I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A procedure Hehe! Nothing gets done as if I’d fallen asleep, but I know it wasn’t that. I think.  might play a part in this ailment.
At times, I come back to the reality of stinging pains in the lower regions from the catheter bag being too full, and I have to get it emptied swiftly, ASAP.
The sunset was about over by the time I regained a modicum of brain control, rejoined the menagerie of life on offer, and got back to the reality and struggle of living.

I DIDN’T

I gave up on the blogging.

Made myself a meal.
It tasted delicious, too! I could feel my burnt finger on the oven rack and the pain of dropping the hot oven tray onto my foot. Landing on my toe nail.
But the meal was worth the hassle. 

Wrote by Inchie c1953

Search for the meaning of truth,
Look until you’re long in the tooth,
You may find it, Gawd’s strewth,
Facts will have to be dealth…
With those who demand wealth,
Humans want for themselves,
Oligarchs will believe in elves!

See you later, take care of yourselves!

Limitability Inchy: Monday 25th March 2024

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.

I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.

I’d better start the Diary.

04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git! 

Urine is even darker.

This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!

Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!

While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.

End car park view.

Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.

Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.

Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.

Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.

I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!

However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… …
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
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Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
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The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.

Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).

Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.

I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!

Oh, dearie me, Little Inchie’s hurting again.

TTFN.

Impugnable-Inchy: Thursday 21st March 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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This physical and mental collapse every afternoon has gone on for three days now. No… Four!
Today, it came over me even earlier. My plan was to at least sit down, with a chance of nodding off; then, after Carer Kara helped me again, but she only had 10 minutes allowed for the visit. Bless her. Carer Helen made the last call, I was to get back to blogging again. I’d given up trying to sleep and was eating the meal when she arrived. Then, as the gal left, after medicating and taking off my diabetic socks from my legs, I went into a deep sleep, which didn’t last for long and was in patches. Every time I went into bliss, shortly one of the would unceremoniously burst me back awake. About 2 hours later, I gave up trying and started to potter about. 
Anyway, I didn’t get back on the blog until around about 03:00hrs on Friday morning, and I had a mammoth task of catching up on it. Which I am currently in the process of doing, accompanied by the World Wide Hum, and a rattling coming from I know not where. 
Better get on with it…

I carried the nocturnal pouch with me as I tried to remove it. I accidentally tugged the tube as I released the valve for emptying and immediately felt the warm, wet feeling of blood in the PPs! I got it cleaned up. Then I sorted out the waste bags into one, ready for collection, and placed them near the front door of the flat.
I took a snap of the morning view from the kitchenette. It’s not a good one, but it was fairly good for me. Is there a nice eeriness about it?
After an hour or so on CorelDraw, uploading and resizing the Kodak Tim pictures, an email from Sainsbury’s came Porc failedin. I went to the wet room and utilised the ever-popular. Once again, the evacuation failed, and after much urging and inner pushing, I gave up. Knowing there was possibly a gigantic torpedo in the queue that may need some help seeing the light of the WC basin, I made and drank a drink of an ‘Ease-it-along sachet’. 

The Caregiver arrived, Victor or Israel. I think I can’t read the name on the log. My memory is blank on this visit, so it could have been anyone.
An hour or so later, the J. Sainsbury order arrived. I did struggle a little getting the bags, one at a time, into the kitchen. Well, I did not struggle; I just took extra care not to catch the tubing in Little .
The bananas came all ready-bruised to save me the effort of dropping them, so it was kind of Sainsbury’s. I got some vegan Maryland cookies, passata sauce with Mediterranean vegetables, and drinks for the nurses and carers. I also got fresh fries; they may get cooked and tasted tonight, methinks. Maybe the Anya potatoes be eaten tomorrow? They are grown only on the Monarch’s farms. Hence, Lord Sainsbury is the only person allowed to sell them. (I’m full of useless snippets)
The fridge was now fullerer than ever! Ready meals, lemon curd yoghourts, potato rosis, the lemon curd dip pots on the bottom shelve? Gorgeous! 
I got a big pack of the JO2 favourites for the treats shelf. They may last a week or more. The most popular of the drinkies on offer these are.
I also got a few of these pots of jelly in a new flavour. Not a good photo. (I’m good at doing these types, Hehe!) So you may not be able to read the label. They are… honestly, a Gin & Tonic Flavour, jelly! I can’t see these being well-liked. I wonder what they put in it to get the taste?

A little drizzle was spotted when I was cleaning the side of the cooker later on.
I took it through the kitchen window glass to try to catch the raindrops on the pane.

During the next half an hour, I got three parcels delivered.

The first was socks, three pairs, I think, of long diabetic ones, expensive ones, too! The second was socks, two pairs of thinner, longer diabetic socks. These were even more expensive, cost me a fortune. But I didn’t get the last two new pairs back from the laundry. They think someone half-inched my laundry and a new bag. I never saw any of them again. Humph!
The third delivery was socks. Six pairs of the wrong type. Hehe! I’d made a great cock-up, mistake, error 
with this order. As Carer Kara found out and told me yesterday. I thought I’d ordered Diabetic Bamboo socks. Kara pointed out that they were cotton ones. Boing! But it was too late for me to cancel. So then I proceeded to make yet another  . I ordered one of the first two above while Kara watched to make sure I didn’t get it wrong again. After she’d gone, I  checked again on Amazon and found the cheaper, although still dear, bamboo socks. I believe I’d cancelled the first pairs and ordered the cheaper pairs instead – But no! I ordered two lots! I’ve not opened the packs yet; I’ll do that tomorrow. I feel like such a fool!
If anyone would like a 3-pack of gents long cotton socks.

I took a shot of the end car park this afternoon. Then the Fatigue and weariness, along with my body’s instruction to get some sleep, arrived.
I decided to get something to eat first after closing down the computer.
There were chips, beans, sausages, and a baguette. The JS baguette was too sweet for my liking and crumbled too easily.
As I got served up, the evening Carer Helen arrived. I’d not seen her for ages, I thought she’s left.
I planned to get a kip and then restart this blog. The best-laid plans of mice and men! Or, in Robert Burns’s original, “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.”
Not a chance of nodding off. I even tried the TV again, but no luck.

I moved into the bed. Just as the night before, I got settled, and the catheter night pouch was hanging down. I lit the torch on the overbed table and got into the bed.
I nodded off pretty quickly again. No idea how long for; it felt like five minutes, and then kicked off striking at will. Well, Inchy! I got up, which wasn’t easy at all. In fact, I was a bit worried about this new ailment trait.  kept stinging, then failing. Not all the time, but regularly enough.

By the time I’d got a drink of spring water, tripped over the tubing, and I’d taken this Kodak Tim photo of the moon or sun. Sun, surely? Was it this early yet? I think I may have made another chronologically here.
I know, but even a man of my extreme intelligence, quickness and clarity of mind, and amazingly reliable super-concentration powers can make the rare, occasional mistake. Ahem! had stopped bothering me. I’m sure it is worse electric shock-wise when I get into the bed, but why?

I got down in search of sleep again, this time back in the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. It didn’t help. As tired out as I felt, either or both the body and brain would not let me sleep!
The Gits!

Beats me, the car? The feet? The phone, yes. 

TTFN

Incapable Inchy: Thursday 14th March 2024

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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I’m thinking of writing a blog about “How to Get Nothing Done, but find it needs amending or correcting, then run out of time doing it!” Yes, I reached a new low or high today in brain-befuddledness. Overlooking the obvious, missing the intentions or inclinations of my own tormented mind. I’ve never been so busy getting nothing done… well, done satisfactorily, or to a semi-acceptably state, competently, effectively. But conditionally. 
My senses and intentions are in remission.

02:30hrs: Better shade.

High morning sky.
Lower down.
Wonky, wobbly view.

First…

AARGH! .
I’ve done it again!
I left the Dang tap (faucet) running last night. There is no hot water for a shower or shave. Spit and grumps!

I put the kettle on and had to return to the Throne!
It gets better! Hehe!

Made a brew of Glengettie. Of course, I started writing a blog post and forgot all about tea. Huh!

A third visit to the bog!
porc tttWhere’s it coming from?

Carer Chris (took the laundry down) and then Carer Kara called. Both were in a rush, up to the neck in it, methinks. Kara looked at the whiteboard and checked the Catheter for me.

MIND BLANK or SEIZURE
A whopper, too!
When I came around, it was obvious that I had been working on the computer. To my amazement, I’d posted the Wednesday Post off; I hope I finished it first. The scribbled notes I’d scrawled meant nothing to me. I was aware of things because I went to check the cooker and taps. The taps were off, the kettle was cold, and no hobs or ovens were left on. At this moment, I looked out at the view from the balcony window.

My eyesight was worse than ever at long distances today. Every house seemed to have two roofs, and they were both moving independently of each other, according to my Glaucoma’s eyes, anyway.

The day bag dropped down the leg, so I must have been drinking well enough while half out of it?

I did notice the nibble box had been well-raided. Haha!.
Well, that’s what it’s there for.

I realised I’d not sent the blog email notification, so I did.
For an unknown reason, Googlemail would not let me import any pictures (and still didn’t on Friday?). Luckily, they went in when I copied and pasted, which made the job messy and protracted.

Can you believe this?.
And was bleeding.
I seemed and cleaned things up. After being up so early, when I returned to the computer, I decided not to continue. Then I realised that the evening carer, Chris, must have been. Could I recall it? Nope! I checked the log book, and he had been.

Despite having been up for about 21 hours, and there must be chunks of the day went off into the ether, I didn’t feel too tired, physically; then again, I’ve not nowt physical, have I?

Time to get summat to eat.
Garden peas, potato cakes and caramelised little pork sausages. These were eaten with bits of the baguette wrapped around each one and dipped in the new Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle!

Got the bed ready to receive the mini-elephantine body and decided to have a bag of chip sticks to round off the meal. I checked the taps and heating and got down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly-grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300, ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, to eat the treats.
Zzz!

Throughout the next three hours, I did not move from the recliner; I just spent the time getting oh-so-regular. I gave up and got up at 04:00 hrs. I decided to finish the stand-up ablutions. It was far too early to use the shower, and the noise would wake up the tenants living below. I’m coughing and sneezing a bit now. Tsk!

Cheers!

Indisposed Inchy: Wed 13 Mar 24 Another festive, fun day, I don’t say!

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Another out-of-it day,
A shortage in short-term memory,
No change in the depressive misery,
Computer faults so many…
Jobs gotten done were derisory.
Life is becoming a quandary!
I’m in depression, sorry…
But daily living’s becoming is a mystery.

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I rose from my so-called sleep at 03:25 hrs. The nocturnal wee-wee was a better colour, but not much. Hehe!

The ankles were looking a lot better this morning.
The overnight were far less as well. They strike a little further up the leg each day, of course. Last night was my shortest sleep of the year, so the strikes ought to have been less. I just worked that out… amazing! Hahaha! 

The waste bag was sorted into one, and I placed it near the door. At this point, I had a visit from .  I’ve not had any sudden head-spins from him for a while. But fortunately, I was in the hallway at the time, less than an arm’s length away from the walls, to steady myself. I feared he might kick off again later, but he didn’t. Mind you, I did have the odd session from the routine. One during a visitation from Carer Kara.


I pondered over what to have for Nosh.
Lame or Cumberland pie & potatoes.
Undecided yet…

Finally, after much straying off and doing other things, I got the Tuesday blog done and posted.

appeared. We had a natter while he put on my socks and issued the medications. I remembered to ask him to remind me about taking the B17 vitamin tablet. 

A little drizzle was falling, so IO went onto the balcony to take this shot of the end car park. The mudslide had been driven through a few times.

came but had little time; she checked the mail and bank letters for me. A financial visit. I’m sure there were things I wanted to ask her. She checked the emails with me, British Gas, the Bank and an unknown one. Kara said to leave it alone; it’s not a danger.


We then had a little mist for an hour or two.


I had all sorts of problems with the computer. I spent many hours on it, stopping when I got brain fog and didn’t know what to try or not risk changing. I’d nip out to take a photo or two of the view. Getting back to find I’d forgotten what and where I was with the computer. But I was still getting messages that: Your hard drive is full, and I could not save anything at all! After clearing out so much artwork and saving graphics, I finally, hours later, was able to save the work I’d done on CorelDraw. This fiasco was enough for anyone to lose it, but me? No, there had to be another problem, didn’t there? 

I finally got around to downloading the photos I’d taken: I’d DONE IT AGAIN! With the worry over the computer, I’d left the SD card out of the camera; no photos! I gave up on the computer and made a meal.

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Cumberland pie and a few potato chunks roasted in the oven to go with it.

arrived just as I’d finished the meal. That was jolly good timing from Israel! He removed the socks and medicated me. 

.
I got them, but it took me a lot longer than the given eleven seconds to get there.

Fare Thee All Well!

Ireful Inchy: Friday 8th March 2024

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Yet another sad day, concentration-wise. I swear I was more out of it than with it for the majority of the day.
Doing the blogging, or trying to, I’d wander off to the Porcelain Throne; on the way back, I’d see some bits on the hallway floor and get the hoover out. A Carer calls, and my attention varies. The ten-minute Carer’s call was over, and I’d forgotten about finishing the hoovering and moved on to check what was in the fridge to cook for my meal for tonight. I returned to the computer and was amazed that so little was done on it. Searching for a Local News Snippet on the Your Area News site, something reminded me of my youth. I spent ages casting back my mind to my horrendous school days, musing at my bad choices, the bullies, the neighbours, etc. 
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and found that the hot water tap had been left on and had run cold.
Stubbing my toe en route back to the computer, I could not find my notepad with the scribbled reminders to use. A seizure or mind-blank took over, and suddenly, the pain from a PN electric shock in the leg (it’s moved up from the ankle now) brought me back from wherever I was, and it dawned that I’d been AWOL for two hours or so. As I stood up, the pain from the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie was excruciating. I felt the warm wetness as the blood flowed down from the PPs onto my leg and off to the wet room for cleaning and medicationalisationing.
When I came out, I set about setting up the template for the blog, not realising that I’d already done that and had some work to do. More time lost. No doubt I did many other things; the proof was in the few photographs I found on Kodak Tim’s SD card. These also prompted some remembrances. But what I did most of the day was a part of the mystery. 
I reclaimed a degree of awareness of things, but not until the evening Carer called. I think Carer Sam came and put some prescriptions in the medical drawer. Vagueness is the word to describe today, I guess.
Belatedly doing, the nurse’s ode flowed easily. And although, as per usual, I was getting so tired and weary, which in itself was another mystery cause I’d done bugger all today.
I didn’t even get back to this blog until late Saturday morning! I think I’ll add Confusion to Vagueness.
Ah, yes, Carer Maryham did the first call. (I think) She was not very well; I think she had caught the ‘Bug’, bless her. I seem to recall worrying about her. 
Only a few photos to go on, with the odd prompted memory added where I had one…
Thank heavens, I at least got the top graphics done early. I’m waffling well, ain’t I?

Front car park, from the kitchen window.

Misty morning.

Late morning, I think.

The new bed, with the fall-out bar and a slide-under-table. It’s comfy enough for me!

It looked like the road resurfacing was all done.

Afternoon or teatime sky.

I missed the sunset due to a mind-blank.
But took this as I went to make a meal.

See the difference twixt reality (above),
and how it looked on the box?
Most disappointing taste, too!

All the bestest!

Inchy: Wednesday 28th February 2024

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Terribly up-and-down day today. Alternating seemingly every five-minutes to me, looking back.
But, so busy. Carer Kara helped me sort out the meal ordering. As well as the diabetic course booking.
This period was the most up one of the day.
Electric-like shocks from the ankles came on so often, far more than any other day since they started.
The new day [ouch on the catheter is leaving scars much worse than the old type were. Bleeding f from the fungal lesion is far worse. Plus, Reflux Roger with his blasts of wind coming up, making three carers, Shaquille, Maryham and Kara, all laugh.
Trouble with the Liberty-Global TV.
Watched the Forest vs Man Utd match. It’s a shame they lost; they deserved a draw, at least; the refereeing seemed biased to me… again, against Forest.
The mind blanks/seizures and Electric-like ankle shocks were both persistent today. When asleep, a rarity that… the ankle shocks often wake me up, but when awake and out-of-it, wither they do not strike or wake me up? Conrad’s Confusion reigns.

The Catheter Katie night pouch did not have much in it, and it was far too dark.
Removed it from the day bag. This new style, which I believe is a woman’s version, has a really thick, long tubing. The release valve at the bottom is touching my slippers; it’s that long! When it fills, the weight drops it down even further, making reaching it to release the valve to be emptied, is difficult and painful.

Morning view ahead.
The misty sky.

called on the first call of his day shift.
The lad looked in top form. He gave me some tips on cooking pasta, after sorting the medications out.

A few minutes later, arrived. On a financial help call. Sorted the letters that had arrived. Then handled ordering the Parsley Box order for me.
She checked the bother with the new-type catheter. I’d hoped she call the District Nurses to see if they could be swapped, but don’t know if I asked her not now.
I’m lost when Kara does not call.
Maryham, Marie, Christopher and Shaquille have all helped me this week. Much appreciated, too. But it is only Kara that the bank will talk to on my behalf. She also helped me through the options for the Diabetes Course. Manuel is phoning or calling on Monday; I’ll mention the painful catheter to him.

A nearly full front car park this afternoon. 
Sometimes, I miss having a car or motorbike to use. But it was sensible to voluntarily hand in my driving licence when I started getting the seizures. I don’t regret doing this usually, in fact, I’m kind of proud of myself for doing it. The thought that I could kill an innocent person should I drop off while driving was the reason I surrendered the licence. I was thinking of this and had a look at the mobility scooters available.

called. She had a giggle at my revelations and jokes. Did me a lot of good that did!
Kimberly found my jokes funny! Grrreat!.
Diabetic socks were put on, and medications were issued. Safety checks were done.

After an hour or two constantly sat down at the computer, the bag was filling again.
I painfully bent down to get to the release valve, which with the weight of urine, was now on the floor! And noticed afterwards the state of the top of the leg, where the extra-thick (No, I’m not talking about me, Hehe!) and long tube had worn a shape into the leg.
I wiped off the trickles of blood and took this picture of it. I’m hoping Kara can call the District Nurses, or wherever she calls it, to ask them if there is any chance they can swap back to the old shorter ones.

Easy-peasy one today… even I spotted the mistake. Albeit, it took me longer than the 4 seconds.

T.T.F.N.