Harold’s Haemorrhoids

Inchy Today: Saturday 26th April 2025

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A NEW AILMENT
I was sitting there, having a drink of Zinfandel,
I was depressed but not feeling suicidal,
Admittedly, I was finding life barely wadeable,
But why was I now thinking so depressional?
I need to cheer up but lack the wherewithal,
I’d gone from singing to feeling vincible…
I didn’t feel a part of anything tellural, 
Then I’d turn all phlegmatic and stoical.
What had changed? Guilt, now I feel sacral,
Suddenly tired, so tired, feeling sardonical,
Accepting that life is but ephemeral…
High Horis visiting is so enjoyable…
Depression Duncan returns, he’s unshakeable,
But why? It’s all unanalysable,
Keeping calm may be advisable,
Arguing with myself again, I must be tactful,
PN hinders thought and movement transferral,
Doreen Dementia is also not terminatable,
High Horis returns! Seemingly therapeutical,
Mini-seizures; sometimes things get threnetical,
Ailments can prevent stuff from being doable…
Problems mental and physical,
What I’m going to say may sound unbelievable…
In a High Horis, life seems incredible…
The sensation I had was execrable…
I floated out of my body, extrinsical…
I looked at myself, existential…
A chance, of course, this could be dubitable
Which gave me a theme for this doggerel,
Are these events possible or circumstantial?
With my mental ailments, possibly corporeal?
Another seizure then found a new carbuncle,
In a rear area just below my belt buckle!
As bad as things are, I still had to chuckle!
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03:10hrs: I bounded out of bed, somersaulted over the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, landing safely by genuflecting my knees at the perfect time. Yodelled, and…
Oh, well, alright then…
03:10hrs: I struggled to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. Then, I struggled even more to get my legs off the bed, knocking my walking stick over (I’ll get it in the neck for making noise this early from Marie, who lives below, next time I see her!), as both Cartilages and Arthur Itis didn’t seem to appreciate my sleeping in the hospital bed and were giving me some gip. I sang out as I stubbed my toe on the Ottoman… Twice!

I took this snap while checking the taps, fridge, and freezer in the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t left anything out of order. No doors are left open, windows are closed, and cookers are turned off.

This session took well over two hours. There were a couple of things that went well. I can’t recall them at this moment cause so many went wrong!
The first thing I tackled was pouring jugs of hot water, washing-up liquid, and Dettol into the grey bowl that my plates of meat fit into. To soak/wash them while doing my teeth and shaving. Which I did, and cleaned my painful, going rapidly-rotten teeth. My mistake was forgetting about the bowl with my feet in it and reaching for the Toothache Spray. I tipped the bowl, and water spread all over the floor! Still, I had clean feet. I also cleaned up the floor. It’s not easy with a mop, bucket and walking stick in tow. I also had a third stubbing of the toes. What can I say? Maybe Arrgh? Finally, I got back to do the shaving. Three tiny cuts underneath the chin, neck and nose. How I cut myself on my nose will remain a mystery. Nobody knows! I stopped the bleeding with the Brut aftershave. It stings a little but does the job.

Porc failedI had to use them before starting the medicationings.
Constipation Conrad ruled absolute this morning. It was pure agony.
I tried to expedite the process, but the evacuation was very slow going. My head was going dizzy with the pain and effort needed to encourage some movement. Eventually, the motion began, but it got stuck part-way!
Oh, what a painful morning!
I felt like I’d been on the toilet for an hour or more.
Suddenly, but oh, so slowly, the torpedo, it felt more like a submarine, quarter-inched its way out.
It plonked into the bowl with a thud.
There was a fair bit of blood!
From , well, there would.

Med HydrI then washed, antiseptically cleaned, and applied cream to the affected area. Doing it over again with some Germoloid Ointment.
More precious time was lost. However, the washing and medications did nothing to ease my situation. It was almost  Lovely!
Then, I made a brave decision. (Yes!) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion would be done next! Get more pain out of the way. I usually leave it until last, as it is the most painful one to do.
Ugleklump! Cragnackles! That hurt!

I did both eye sprays. Then, after cleaning the ears, I inserted the olive oil into each channel. A nasal spray was squirted up both sides. Then, another challenging task was undertaken. Needed the Barrier cream to be put on the right ankle. The left ankle was not leaking. A simple enough job – but reaching down to apply it was the problem. It was entirely overcome by my cunning use of paper towels dabbed, and the small plastic Picker-Upper was used to apply it. It wasn’t exactly pain-free, but it was bearable.

Oh, I am good! Hehe!

I’ve been using this graphic of the small picker-upperer on and off for years. I’ve only just noticed that I had spelt ‘picker’ wrongly. Tsk!

7:00hrs: I got two potatoes out, ready to go into the slow cooker later on. Of course, I forgot all about them; they had shrivelled a bit, and I threw them away, opting for frozen mini-roast spuds instead. I spotted the tubers on the counter around 21:00hrs.

Carer Ejaz made the first call of the day. Diabetic socks and medications were sorted out.

Daytime photos taken.

The clouds grew thicker.

It got hazier.

Then, it cleared a little.

Brightened up a smidgeon.

Struggled with updating the Friday post.
Well into teatime before I’d got it done.
Today, the above Ode cost me a few hours. Chiefly due to repeated mini-seizures and my mind wandering, I found myself scripting while I was out of it. So many corrections to be made. I may have missed some as the fog dawned in my head.

I got carried away searching for an old photo of myself to use on a future blog. More hours lost.
I spent too long thinking of and getting the photos cleaned up a smidgen; here they are.
c1951.
Then I took one taken earlier this year.
2025.
This sent me off on an unpleasant tangent.
Guilt and shame showered over me for my past actions. However, it clarified the reason for my bad luck and the mental and physical pains I now experience. Truth is, I deserve them. This afternoon, I found myself unself-pitiable.
A kind of freedom lingered, of acceptability.
I hope I can experience this feeling of peace again.

Carer Mizra did the second call. Confusion over medications. Mizra’s second time of calling. She put the socks on and creamed the right ankles for me.

I think I made a Sainsbury or Ocado order later on. I’ll need to verify this tonight.

Carer Rozma did the last two calls. I was having mini-seizures on both calls. It’s only through the scribbled notes on the pad that I remembered he’d called.

Approximately 21:00hrs.
What a change in the view!

My belated meal
Very nice, too!
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Up The NHS – Bless!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 24th April 2025

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Here’s what the future holds, I’ve gleaned,

Putin & Trump, agreements are formed,

Their wars were turbocharged,

Trump: Mexico was savaged,

Putin: Lithuania was occupied,

Trump wanted Canada but was denied,

Putin: finished Ukraine, on to Poland,

Trump: attack and took Iceland…

Putin: The Idle of man was scavenged,

Trump proved he was  unhinged,

Jamaica was attacked

Is this how it all ends? Can you imagine?

World Rulers, Trump and Putin?

The only opposition is China?

What of the UK, Australia…

France, Spain, Africa, India?

What of bean-counter, Starmer?

I’ve been advised by an astrologer-auger,

That this is not on our future agenda,

Who can avoid this abomination?

Save the world and each free nation?

You’d know if you were a Christian!

It would be lovely to be awestricken!
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A mixed day mentally. It was rife throughout. Today was a day of hard work that left me baffled. Sparse blog, sorry. Up at 04:50hrs. 

Hoovering.

Potatoes are ready to make cheesy spuds later.

First brew of Glengettie.

Kitchenette view.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Diabetic socks.

Window cleaner called. The price is going up by 20%. Spit! The first bit of bad news, plenty to follow.

Ocado delivery.
Cheesy cobs.
Fridge

Just as I was bending and stretching to reach the bowl, I’d just dropped on the kitchen floor. Whoopsiedangleplop! Balance-Loss-Bertha and Dizzy Dennis gave me a double assault.
Down I went, hitting my chin and head en route to the floor and landing on the pile of bottles I’d knocked over. My language was a bit crude!
Hitting the chin, set off Toothache Tiffany.
Then came the harrowing part. The trip on all fours to get to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner; to haul me back up onto my feet. The short journey must have taken me a good few minutes to get there. I had to keep stopping to move the catheter pouch into a less painful position. I was knackered when I got there, then faced the challenge of hauling my elephantine-bellied body up on the recliner. Only to find that 
it was bleeding from the tube tugging and adjusting en route.
More time was lost, having to clean and medicate Little Inchies’ fungal lesion and the scrape and bruise on the chin. That stung a tad! 

I moved back onto the computer. Concentration was terrible, mistakes rife, and I wasn’t feeling too good physically now, either. My work rate disintegrated, my mind wandered off of its own accord, and I had a prolonged, weird, cracking seizure when I recall most things. I knew I was doing wrong, but I just thought this was a dream and carried on blooping! That is unless I was really dreaming. The oddest one yet.

Coming out and back to semi-reality, the young lady Carer arrived. I was draining the urine from the day bag to the dedicated jug. I believe I had another mini, a few-second-long seizure at the same time. Peptac was taken given.

I started on the blogs. Only to realise that I felt the warm, wet sensation in my left sock, feet and slipper!
Yes, I’d failed to turn off the release valve on the catheter yet again! I think a combination of the Seizure, the effects from the tumble, and being distracted when the Carer was asking my questions may have caused this accident.
It’s been the same for some time now. As I was warned at the Dementia meeting, it will get worse, and it has… my concentration evaporates when I try to do two things at the same time nowadays.
I know I’ve left the taps running when the door chime rings or I get a telephone call from someone. I forgot what I was doing when interrupted.
I had to take off my socks, which was even more painful than the first Accifauxpa with the tumble, all-fours-crawl, and fungal lesion medicating! Then, I had to wash my feet – another challenge, as if the agony of getting my socks off was not enough! I fetched a bowl from the wet room and half-filled it, a jug at a time, with water from the sink to fill the bowl halfway. Washing up liquid and Dettol added. I brought a towel with me. I’m not sure how I’m going to dry my feet with it yet. I managed it, but it was another painful struggle. Fed up? Me? Yes! 
I sat my feet in the bowl for about twenty minutes, placed a food order for the next week, and returned to the blog. The water was well cold now. I had hoped a Carer might call early to offer some help, but no luck. I decided to wait for the Carer before risking carrying the split plastic bowl to empty and store in the wet room. Then, I decided to wash the urine-soaked socks I had left earlier, soaking in Dettol and laundry liquid in the kitchen sink. Rinsed them and hung them to dry.
Funny how one can get a picture to come into one’s mind instantly, word association, maybe? As I typed ‘hung’, I thought of Starmer! Ha-ha!

I got an email from the Bulwell-based Diabetes training folks.

Sunset shot.

I’d bought some Albert Bartlett potatoes.
£2.50 for 2kilograms. Well, the ones I had last year for baking cheesy potatoes were wonderful!
But not so much this time!
I knew I’d have difficulty with them when I saw the amount of black mould in them.
This is how they came out of the cooker, ready to have the husks emptied into a bowl and mixed with some no-butter butter.
Leicester cheese, sea salt, black pepper and Worcestershire sauce. 
However, it took me an hour to cook them in the oven and almost another hour to locate and remove the spots of black Rhizoctonia Solani, which I had investigated. It is a fungal disease that causes stem canker, damping off, black scurf, skin netting, and tuber growth distortions. And getting them back in what was left of the husks… well, I think I deserved a medal. The mixture was replaced in the skins and returned to the oven for twenty minutes until the tops were nicely browned and crisp. However, they did taste so good! But it took so long to sort them out that I was falling asleep eating them. 
With some pickled beetroots and Nordic bacon!

Naturally, after washing the load of pots, cutlery, basins, and plates, I settled down around midnight to watch the original Death Wish movie on TV.
But couldn’t, as it didn’t have any subtitles. I did not want to wake up the chap above by having the sound load enough for me to hear it. Those two or three floors above and below me would have all been disturbed. I’d have had a lynch party waiting for me in the morning. Haha!

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– Passe une bonne journée –
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Inchy Today: Sunday 20th April 2025

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Cooked pot of pork knuckle, beetroots, pickled black beans and water chestnuts, a giant potato pancake, two doorstep sized slices of bread, and a spot of BBQ sauce added. A cheap icecream cone to follow.
Ate it all up, like a good little boy. Hehehe!

22:20hrs: I got bedded down, and was soon off into the land of slumber, where I had a dream.
I was in the Tardis, with Herr Starmer. I recognised it from the TV series, but there were also members of Parliament, all arguing. Starmer seemed oblivious to this, and carried on over-talking them. I wish I could recall more. But that’s all folks! As some old Walt Disney cartoons used to end. Not that I can recall it at the moment, but I reckon I must have got up during the morning, and took these photographs from the kitchen window. Putting them on, I remembered the green sky, and wondering what I’d done wrong?
To the right I think.
To the left I think.
Ahead, I guess.
Closer shot, ahead. (Brown now?)

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Well, he’s back another reactivation,
Imbedding in me, thoughts of a madman,
Or perhaps, to be closer, a badman…
Silly thoughts, developed, began…
Will I ever get to use a bedpan again?
A chance to dance, the twist or can-can?
If I’m reborn, I’d like to be a Casanovan,
I’m passing wind with power of a turbofan,
I can hear words, they’re stentorian…
However, I refuse to pay attention,
They are full of hatred & vilification…
Loathing, defamation, castigation…
Giving me collywobbles & trepidation,
They laughed at my coming trephination,
Is the voice mine? Am I in regression?
My alto-ego is a much better rhetorician,
I leave no progeny, offspring, scion,
What will I leave in residualisation?
With age, comes a painful realisation,
Unwarranted dismal and depression,
I’d use a little prognostication…
Involving perception, conceptualisation,
But it would only be assumption, supposition,
I’d love to know before my conclusion,
Can life really be just an illusion?
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Best Week All Year!
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I had to use the Porcelain Throne twice overnight.
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At 06:40hrs, I bounded out of bed, and I did a backwards flip. One-handedly whipped the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Burst into song; Frank Ifield’s Wayward Wind. Did a few press-ups, and ten minutes of shadow boxing, and opened the kitchen window to yodel my greetings and best wishes to all who could hear me… Or, if you prefer the truth…
It’d been another stormy night. It must have taken me four hours to fall asleep. with his nit-picking and reminders of various mistakes and bad choices I’ve made over the years, I finally gave up his attack. I feell asleep for about an hour, sprang awake, waited for to stop trying to twist my neck off, and as he subsided, had her turn at dislocating my shoulder bone. No chance of nodding off again no matter how tired I felt, now. At 06:40hrs, I removed the night bag, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I could hardly feel the evacuation taking place. As I stood up, I couldn’t believe the amount of mass of evacuated product in the porcelain! I’ll say no more...


Made a brew of Glengettie.

Carere Ejaz called. I forgot to ask him to take off my socks. And pointed out that have only one warfarin dose left in the stock. Ejaz said sorry for being late. No bother at all. He was using buses on a Sunday.

I prepared the meal for tonight.
Large white beans, black-eyed peas, Gung Po sauce and gravy, water chestnuts, Light Soy sauce, liquid smoke, and potatoes. Heating it slowly in the crock-pot. Yes, the same again. I do like it!

More kitchen views.
Sunshine getting through.
Decent shots?

Back to the blogging.
Then onto the WP Reader.
Hoping it lets me ‘like and comment’ this time.

Carer Joe arrived. He’s bought some prescription medications, bless him. Great, I was on the last Warfarin tablet, too! Thanks!

Got the meal sorted. Took snaps of the evening view.
Amazing cloud formations

The days meal.

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May your week go frabjously,
Your hopes develop fabulously,
Your days each go unfractiously.
May your plans go flawlessly,
May your luck go favourably…
for your fancies and foibles,
Each day pass felicitously,
You avoid all that goes feudally,
Your dreams mature flawlessly,
May others greet you fondly,
And have a bit of luck, financially!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 16th April 2025

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Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
and my bodily, dedicated to medications,
Going in, my shoulder had a collision,
Banged my head, nearly had a concussion,
The Porcelain Throne, I dumped on,
Had a Trotsky Terence evacuation…
All over within what seemed an instant!
Standing, I saw blood, & liquid aurulent.
I checked my bottie and protection pants,
Blood on the lid… is that appurtenant?
Blood twixt the top between each buttock,
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I cleaned my teeth, and they bled,
Then got on and shaved,
Five cuts with my razor blade,
I should really stay bearded,
To myself, I blethered,
Then, with me being butterfingered,
Washing my delicate feet, barefooted,
My ingrowing toenail was stubbed,
The bottom was still well blooded,
Smearing barrier cream, I lathered,
Of course, I wasn’t really bothered!
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Started the medications, antibiotical,
The clock had stopped, its analogical,
Found another sticking out blood vessel,
Then I had something of a tumble…
To the floor, I slowly crumple,
Any more, and I’ll be biopsable!
This was not the end of my trouble,
My ailments are not inalimental,
Many ailments were responsible,
Anne Gyna, Cartilages or neurological,
None of which are nullifiable!
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On all fours, to the recliner, I had to go,
I got on my feet, muttering mumbo-jumbo,
Again, banging my poor camel toe!
Back to the wet room, slowly, adagio,
The rear end was still bleeding, though,
After getting up, the fungal lesion too,
I greeted Carer Ahmed, Buongiorno,
Ahmed said I’ve to let the nurse know,
About the blood that still did flow,
But it stopped later, so I thought, no…
I did feel a bit of a drongo!
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Ahmed medicated me, put on my diabetic socks,
Back to the wet room, I had aftershocks…
No blood is coming now from my buttocks,
Seizures, which for me is now orthodox,
Anne Gyna started, as usual for Inchcock,
Flood alarm sounded, off went the stopcock,
Left the tap running, causing more havoc,
My brain went into a maze, gridlock,
Hearing aids in, I heard the clock’s tick-tock,
Confusion is still running amok!
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Lamburgers & Potato slices.
Iced & Cream finger rolls!
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Laundry and sorting day today. Not me, most of it was done by Carer ‘Joe’. Did a grand job for me as well.
He was up and down with the laundry. And sorting it out in the main room, making space so there is theoretically less chance of taking any whoopsies. I helped with the finances, a problem with photograph storage, and emails. I also checked the dates on the food for me. Thanks, ‘Joe’.
So very light on detail today.
I’ve forgotten half what took place; I’m so busy.

Morning shots. Straight ahead
To the right
To the left.
But I might be wrong.

Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
And my body is dedicated to medications.
Details are at the top of the above Ode.
Believe it or not.
The session took me three hours to get done. Then Carer ‘Joe’ here for three hours, it didn’t leave me much time ot get owt done. Although I did get bits done. But not much on the notepad apart from the wet room visit of gloom.

19:20hrs: The rear end is still leaking the odd little bit of blood now, but it is less each time I check it than in previous investigations. A lot of bloodied tissues. I’ve got to laugh about it… now! Haha!

I did have time earlier to cut some water chestnuts into a jar to pickle them. I put them in the fridge next to the delicious Gung Po jar of sauce and the black bean sauce. 
I made up a tub to microwave the planned meal later, but I’m nowhere near getting it done yet. So it may be morning again before I get a nosh. But I think it will be a good one. Another can of the odd, nobbly, stumpy Bularian soft sausage and giant white beans. With Gung-Po already mixed in the microwave dish for later, and some water chestnuts added, either tomato sauce of beef gravy will be added, like the other day. It didn’t look terrific, but it was sooo tasty! 

I took this of the tree copse and pathway.
I think I did, I’ve no memory. I may have taken it another day. Cause I was having a series of mini-seizures that left me more confused than I had been for a few days.

When Carer Ahmed arrived, he thought I was in a seizure. I’d just come out of one. Well spotted, young man. He offered to take a look at my bleeding rear end. It was bleeding, but he wasn’t sure if it was inside or out. Had it been inside, it may have been or .
But a little discomfort when I sit down tells me I’ve chaffed the coccyx (tailbone), from falling in the tumbles or just sitting down so often. I kept cleaning the area and putting some barrier cream on each check throughout the day.

I was trying to get the Ode done. But four hours later, I did get it done. Little else. ‘Joe’ was patient with me, persisting. He knows how addicted I am.

I took this at about 20:15hrs.

I got the food out and added a can of beef stew. Stirred it all together, ready for when the Carer has called, and then I can cook it and dig in. I got three chunky, thick slices of bread from the freezer and thawed them out, ready for the feasting! Haha!

The tiredness and weariness came later than usual today. I’ll try to catch up in the morning, but there’ll not be much to do. Unless some exciting events take place unexpectedly, like: We have a fire, I have another heart attack and or stroke, I leave the taps running, have a tumble, world war three kicks off, or someone calls to adopt me as a grandad. 
I’ll not set any odds. Hehehe!
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Sunday 13th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle!
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05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute.
This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk!
Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .

I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.

Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to Med Hydrhelp when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem!
I got the pain gel cream on   and .

Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!

Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles?
Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.

I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. 
However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?

Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!)
The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.

Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever

I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever.
It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.

Never got back on the computer again today.
I’ll try to catch up tomorrow.
Not good this.
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All The Best, Folks!

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Inchy Today: Friday 11th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I’ve never received an assumpsit,
On a jury, they’ve never let me sit,
Won £5 on the pools; nothing on the Lottery,
No prize for my Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Never been called dictatorial, or absolutistic,
Lived most of my life as allegoric or metaphoric,
After some seizures, I go all apathetic,
All dreams I have are absurd, amphigoric,
At 6, I decided I’d learn how to whittle,
And chopped my thumb off, that made me widdle,
At 7, crossing a bridge, I got thrown in a canal,
At 9, I fell downstairs, made myself vestigial,
At 10, for a dare, I ate an angelwitch!,
Now elderly, I’m an insomniac, agrypnotic,
When younger, I was most apolaustic,
Got sacked a few times, an experienced attrit!
Since my stroke, I’ve experienced being abiotic,
Teachers said that I was idiotic!
They found my ulcer had turned carcinogenic,
Which left me feeling a mite catatonic,
Hoping my odes are seen as copacetic,
My few remaining teeth look like eolith,
This afternoon, I got stuck in the lift!
This is all true, you know, not a myth!
So, can you see why I sometimes get miffed?
I think laughing at myself is a gift!
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A rough start to the day, but I’ll explain later.
Three hours into consciousness, things improved healthwise. In fact, as I type this, it’s been a much better day.,
But only physically, healthwise. Mentally,  it brought me many things I could have done without.
The most frustrating thing was the computer. It was causing internet blackouts, and I’ve reloaded Google eighteen times already. Blunkerbonks! Losing work done every time. Depressed about this; I know it will eventually become unusable. However, none of the computer people I asked for help responded positively. When I rang, they informed me that they were swamped, but the engineer would contact me. Please be patient. That was seven months ago!
Very little on the blog today because I lost all my later photos in a blackout.
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05:20hrs: After an improved sleep, I stirred into imitation life and dismounted the hospital bed. Emptying the nocturnal pouch, I realised it had not been assed for colour, but the Carer will do it for me, I poured some of the wee in a cardboard cup, to be checked later.
My mind was not exactly clear, and I kept wondering what it was I’d planned to do while mountaineering from the hospital bed.
I went to check the taps, fridge, freezer and stoves to make sure I had not left anything on again. Nope, all looked good, and Anne Gyne had missed her usual attacks that assault me within an hour of waking up. Well, they have been doing the last few mornings.
Boy, what a fantastic sight greeted me from the kitchen window.
At first, I thought I’d lost half a day, and it was nighttime. When I changed my glasses, I realised it was not a sunset but the red moon disappearing over the horison. I took a closer shot of it within 30 seconds and saw how far it had gone down since the first snap was taken. The mist was far less this morning. It felt a lot warmer this morning.

I gathered the things needed to do the ablutions and medications. I also remembered that the Yauhuol needed handwashing. I’m struggling with this job, so I spoke with myself, telling myself to be extra careful when washing and not to spill any more water again. I believe I cursed myself for having done it for the last two mornings. It knocks me up having to mop using the stick.
A bit of advance planning here. Oh, yes! While doing the ablutions, I realised I was going to hang the Yahuole on the shower railings, so I put the bowls in position to catch some of the dripping water. Cunning that, I thought!  Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed. Messy more than ever this morning.
The teeth were done, then the shaving, and multiple nicks bled. But the ever-reliable Brut aftershave soon stopped them all from bleeding. I’d sooner not talk about the medicalisationings if you don’t mind. Oh, go on, then, but it brings back the pain. As per usual, the worst was from the creaming and massaging of. Arrgh! does not begin to cover the pain this time. I threw in a few naughty words and curses at myself; being generous by nature, I lobbed a few in for and at our Banckhander-taking, Pensioner-Killing Conservative Fürher Keir Starmer. I wish someone would inform him that he’s supposed to be leading the Labour Party. Albeit they are showing signs of beibg more like a Nazi- Party!
I lost the plot there; sorry about that!

Carer Ahmed arrived. We tried the key safe, and we actually got it open! Well, Ahmed did. As we were walking back inside, I knew it had to come, it was guaranteed; she launched her morning attack belatedly and kept it up for hours without a break. I asked if I could have an extra Codeine, but after calling his boss, this was refused. I could understand why. It says on the box that I can take up to four a day on the prescription tag on the box. I regularly take 3 a day, rarely needing a fourth. But as the commandant said, it will mean me taking two together, and this cannot be allowed. Eventually, she calmed down around teatime. Fair enough, but the pain was peracute; is that the right word? 
Fair enough, but the pain was peracute. Is that the right word?  It felt excruciating at the time. Hello, she’s off on her tour of my chest, ribs and neck again!

Eventually, late afternoon, I realised the Yahuole was still soaking in the kitchen sink, so I got it handwashed.
I came so close to having a tumble as I stretched to get the coarhanger onto the shower rail. Had it been Cartilage Cathy (right knee) and not Cartilage Chloe (left knee) that gave way, I’d have had noting to grab a hold of to stop me crumpling into mop bucket, the bowls used to catch the drips, and possibly another head bashing on the trolley or sink. 
But no, a bit of luck falling the other way, with a safety bar within reach… which clung onto! Just found a tiny bruise on the left ribs.

The seizure took care of things for about two hours. I have no idea if I did anything silly while out of it. No, I lie! I did do some work on the blog. Later, I found all the cock-ups I made and will try to find and correct them all (I hope) in the morning.

Carer “Joe” is due for a late call anytime now. I’m going to make two sandwiches: thick, chunky bread, no butter, sliced cooked pork loin to go on the bread, and Marmite and beetroot! If I feel brave enough, I may do some oven chips to go with the sarnies. I’m so rascally at times. Haha!

Carer “Joe” said he is off tomorrow. So the Small Asian Angel & Carer Ahmed should be serving me this Saturday.

NOSH
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Word of the day: flibbertigibbety
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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday, 9th April 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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ME & MY MATE ARTHUR
We’d go out every Friday night to the Astoria,
Do the twist, jive, waltz, especially with Nora,
That’s when the fallout came with Arthur,
You see Arthur dated with Dora,
I often entwined with Nora,
One night, I caught Arthur & Nora,
Arthur sounded like he was having a dyschezia,
Nora was calling out, Oh, yer, Oh Yer!!!
Arthur dismounted; I gave him a right-hander!
The scrap was a blockbuster, a bloodletter,
With Nora’s support, he fought better…
Bigger than me, and a blacksmith’s welder,
Arthur finished me off; the bounder,
Giving me several cuts and pyrexia,
I was comforted by Dora later,
Dora was a uranographer,
I mapped the soul & body of her,
Then stopped Friday night visits to the Astoria!
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Today was my busiest for months.
It is now 16:00 hrs, and I am shattered, tired, worn out, and weary. Glaucoma, Gladys, is affecting my eyesight, as usual. Here is a quick rundown on how I got into this dilapidated state! Hope I can stay awake long enough to get my ablutions and medicalisationings done. And the nurse has not shown up yet – possibly due to my putting the appointment in the calendar for the wrong day, and it should have been tomorrow.

I didn’t wake until 06:00 hrs again, but I did not get to sleep until 02:00hrs. There were fewer waking-ups with neck jerks.

I got the waste bags sorted out and placed near the door. Not knowing for 100% that the nurses would be arriving, I did not do the ablutions, or body medicationing, in case I missed the intercom. Then I handwashed some more socks and hung them above the sink to drip dry. Then, I utilised the Porcelain Throne.
This time, with Constipated Conrad still in charge. The evacuated product came out slowly and painfully, but all in one long, even bigger than the frequent Torpedo. It was more the size of a submarine! Gignormous!
Not messy whatsover!

Carer Ahram arrived. We left the bandage on the leg so the nurse could examine it when she arrived.

I got the kaghoule handwashed (made a mess on the floor ringing & ringing) and hung it on the shower rail in the wet room to drip dry. Painfully!

An email from Amazon said the delivery would arrive today before 21:20hrs. I concentrated on getting as much of the blog caught up with before the nurses arrived or the second Carer.

MISTAKE MADE HERE… WELL, TWO!
Firstly, I spilt water on the floor while handwashing and walked it all over the kitchen, so I thought I’d mop it up. I had a visit from Lost-Balance-Bernard and kicked the bucket, redistributing the dirty water back onto the floor! So, so I thought I’d mop it up again.
Second, I could see the sun coming around, ready to blast through the window, so I decided to hang the thin dressing gown on the rail to protect my eyes.
I knocked a jar of mint sauce off of the shelf, and it broke as it hit the just-mopped-twice floor, catching and seasoning the bandaged & right leg en route!
I was livid with myself!
I believe I was praying and cursing at the same time as having to mop the floor for a third time. My EQ knew something. I swear he laughed at me!

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived as I was cleaning the oven.
He’d got an extra hour today, so he could do the laundry and make space in the front room, as I had been taking tumbles & knocks lately. Damned decent of him. While he was down taking the laundry, I went to check some dates on the food.
MISTAKE MADE HERE…
I dropped a bottle again. I thought I’d mop it up. Gragknangles! Four damned times now!

‘Joe’ started making some room between the chair and my bed so I would be in less danger and bother using them.

He then went down to collect the laundry and helped hang it up with me. We went into the kitchen for something—ah, yes, food date checks! I wobbled a little and knocked a jug of water over.
Gragknangles! Five Ruddy Times Today!
‘Joe’ to the rescue; he took over, bless him!

I was embarrassed, but ‘Joe’ was understanding and calm about things. A nice, helpful chap.

He hoovered where we (well, he) had been sorting things out in the space-making mission.

I then realised that the kaghoule and dressing gown I had on had got soaked on the laf spillage episode. So had to change into a fresh one of each. And then had to hadwach for a third tine today. To wash another kaghoule!

He said he’d be doing the teatime call later on.

I felt begraggled, bewitched & bewildered!

A delivery and possibly a nurse to come yet!
I must keep going if I can. I dare not fall asleep and miss the nurse of delivery. Fed-Up!

I pondered my position and constant bad luck.
I’ve decided that I deserve no better. Will is just as well because I’m not going to have things get any better, now am I? 

Maybe it’s something I did in a previous life?
I was born as Hitler committed suicide!
Maybe I ought belatedly to run for Prime Minister?
Oh, no, we’ve already got Herr Starmer.

As tired as I was, and I know I was tired.
Cause today had drained me.
But thanks to Carer Joe and his amazing help given to me today, I got more clearing up done than for years!
A big thank you is warranted!

I settled after washing the pots up and sat in the recliner from the c1966 second—or third-hand Charity shop bought £300, broken down, catheter tube crunching, dried blood covered, grotty, dirty, and creaking recliner. Expecting to nod off quickly.
But, no! So, I put the TV on. This usually works. 
But no! Then the doubts came over me again: Had I left any taps running? I’m so glad I checked. The taps were all off—but what a view from the kitchenette window! I hastened to fetch Kodak Tim Two from the other room and almost rushed back before the view changed. I loved this one. At last, a decent photo!
Bootiful!

I went back to the front room and somehow manipulated my tired limbs and aching body onto the hospital bed. It took a while to get it into the optimum position, but once I found it, glorious sleep came at last! It was a little broken but still far less than of late.

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A Darned busy but productive day!
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I wish you each lots of luck!

Inchy: Monday, 7th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

LIBERTY-GLOBAL-OLIGARCHS?
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Let’s delve into the truth of ‘Hope’, clinically,
To see if it developed from ampullosity,
‘Hope’ to me seems somewhat bizarrerie,
Because finding it is hard for me…
I don’t act belligerently or truculently,
I’m a ditherer, I don’t act confidently,
My Carer say’s I’ve got too much benignity,
I think I’m shy, nervous and cowardly,
There I go off the subject again, you see?
I’ll try to concentrate more, hopefully…
‘Hope’, to me, seems to be, hypothetically,
A forlorn dream, with no reality…
I thought ‘Hope’ would help Inchy,
But I forgot about his mental instability,
His? I’m him! Another drift from verity,
I still want ‘Hope’ & help regardlessly,
Although I see the pointless futility,
Sometimes I consider ‘Hope’, frivolously,
The next time, maybe negatively,
Then back to frustration & hostility,
Yet I still try so desperately…
Then I go all unenthusiastically,
Depression falls, I turn apathetically…
A seizure, a giving way from Cartilage Chloe,
The coming arrival of complacently,
And I ‘Hope’ for ‘Hope’, pessimistically,
Body & mind acting chaotically,
Ménière’s Mini-seizures, increasingly,
I think I must not lose hope, glibly…
I even turned for help to quixotry!
As if to prove my eccentricity,
Or maybe that ought to be docility?
My physical ailments seem a triviality,
Finding ‘Hope’ & help, surely unrealistically,
The Lord made my life qualificatory…
A body and mind, deformed & queachy,
Doomed; never be happy or peachy,
I have had luck! But only quadrennially,
I acted rightly & astutely, well, in 1953,
I’m more hopeful for my sempiternity…
Not knowing where or when, for eternity,
Pray, please, no return ticket awaitingly!
If I find ‘Hope,’ will it also make me lucky?
Finding ‘Hope’, I try so persistently…
‘Hope’, is it mythical? It’s beyond me!
Why is it such a mystery to me?
Is ‘Hope’ biodegradable and sugar-free?
Why is it issued unequally, unfairly?
I can’t get any ‘Hope’, that’s a certainty,
No ‘Hope’ within by boundaries, locality,
I live in la-la land despondently…
And a part-reality, customarily,
Like others ‘Hope’ seeking, despondently,
I collect bills and demands; it’s called scripophily,
Carer Joe sorts them out for me weekly,
No offers of hope delivered to Inchy…
Finding ‘Hope’ may help propitiatingly,
‘Hope’ I get it before my necropsy!
Sorry about this Ode’s nugacity,
Call on me, & we’ll have a mug of tea,
Ice cream and/or chocolate biscuits…
I’d love a chinwag, mischievously!
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Got yesterday’s nosh photo to go on!
Well, I think it was.
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I didn’t rise until gone 0630hrs this morning. I’d had a long sleep again, broken, but not all that often. I reckon I got six hours in, and that was on the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner.
I felt a little perky when I got up and decided to clear the waste bins, etc. I
pictured & emptied the night bag. U6 rating.
Took a snap of the morning view out of the kitchenette window. I was hit by another of the odd seizures where I knew what was happening, but I was unsure why or what.

This was followed by general confusion and an almost total lack of concentration. I coughed, bringing up phlegm, and my voice went croaky. Walking, it was not easy to keep my balance.
Carer Ahman arrived. He showed concern and again wanted to phone for an ambulance. I disuaded the lad, telling him I was going to get in the bed as soon as he finished. I assured him I’d use the alarm wristlet if things didn’t improve after I’d had a kip. I’m sure we spoke of other things, but not what about? He put my diabetic socks on and gave me the medications. I got into bed while he was doing his report on his mobile phone. He also shut the curtains for me as the light in the room annoyed me for some reason. Ahman said I was not talking clearly but mumbling more; I think he said the same Sunday morning. I genuinely hope that this is not going to happen each morning. A third time, and I will have to press the alarm. I do not have the foggiest idea why this waking up and fading is happening. At least it didn’t last for long.

I bade him thanks and cheerio and settled in the bed, adjusting the settings to ensure I was not lying too flat. Comfort arrived. Yes, I did nod off for a short while. Waking up without any neck, shoulder, or leg jerkings. That in itself was nice! I was under the impression that I’d slept for a few hours because I was feeling so much better now. The wall clock told me I’d only slept for half an hour, but it did the trick.
I wasted no time in taking advantage. I went to take another kitchen window photo and used the speed mop to clean the disgustingly dirty kitchenette floor—I hope I’ve not left it sticky again. Then, I took another snap of the late morning view.

I spent ages trying to get the photos on the blog and got most of them on, but it took an aeon!

My beloved tree copse, looking thin still.
Close up of the battling for life leaves.
Even closer & higher, the crows
have not arrived yet?

Much to my amazement, Carer Joe arrived. It was already 13:25hrs! So, I assume that

Arithmaphobia Arnold had me fooled again. Maybe I’d had some non-epileptic seizures? I can’t remember having them. 
Peptac issued, I was thinking of asking for a Codeine, but with Anne Gyna being minimal bother at that time, I didn’t want to give her an excuse to kick off with her mobile stabbing pains, which make breathing a little overheavy, painful & hard work.
The unsteadiness of my balance was lingering but slowly getting less frequent. The froggy-sounding voice remains, but none of the serious stuff.

I wondered if I’d gone into the kitchen with Kodak-Tim-2 to snap the incredible view while the floor was still wet. I went to check. Now I really was confused. It must have been many hours ago when I mopped it up; there is no chance it could still be wet. What a plonker! Still, I took another shot at the pathway I could no longer get into Woodthorpe Park. Spit!

However, now things were getting better, not the croaking voice. Anne Gyna had belatedly started greeting me with her roving pains and breathing botherations. However, my dizziness and balance had improved, and I found myself singing.

Great Balls of Fire! What’s going on here?
Where have I been? What was I doing?
It’s nearly 20:00hrs already!

The Carer will be here anytime now, over the next hour or so, and I’ve not had anything to eat or done the ablutions or medicalisations yet! 
How can this be happening?

Skin on chips, a vegetable and no-meat meat pastie, pickled chestnuts & mushrooms, two wholemeal rolls to make chip butties out of, and salt & vinegar, pepper and  Soya BBQ sauce. (A little too hot for me… anybody fancy a bottle?)

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Chow!
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Inchy: Sunday, 6th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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That’s the lot concerning photos and graphics. Sorry. I was allowed to save just the first of the many pictures and graphics made and taken. I had some I could use again in the WP Gallery. All that time and effort was spent, too. I had some cracking Kodak Tim 2 snaps as well. The computer problems just have me beaten!

I gave up, deciding then not to, and tried again. I cleaned the computer yet again, all of it and put it back on again. Now, the only way to get a photo or graphic on is one at a time, and you have to rename the old image and save the new one using the same name. This cost me hours and hours, so long, I gave it up as well. If I tried to carry on getting photos on, it’d be such a long job, I’d still be doing it on Tuesday! At last, I can put some on, at least one.

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This morning, I may have wassailed,
But, in a tumble, my head was whacked,
I felt weirded and wrongheaded,
My bonce was bruised and wounded,
All a part of my life and my world,
Accifauxpas, to me, are well-founded,
To get back up, I struggled & wriggled,
The catheter leaked, so I widdled…
I laughed; at the same time, I writhed!
Falling back down on the walker…
My neck was sort of whiplashed,
I swore and cursed, but I only whispered,
The Carer arrived; he was wheritted…
Got me up, in pain & urine-wetted
I cleaned & medicated, just as I wanted,
But my confidence by now had wilted,
Anne Gyna joined in, I wearied,
I had a private stocktake, worded…
Me and my brain witwantoned…
For a solution, I waited, & waited,
Peace of mind is what I wanted…
I prayed, hoped & wittered,
Eventually, I just whimpered…
So depressed; Is this life warranted?
My prayers were so wholehearted,
I felt even more withdrawned,
The realisation of failure wrangled,
I can’t recall when I last womanised!
The last time I was pleasantly wooed,
The loins moved, and I was wowed,
Then my leg lesion wheeped…
The fate Lucifer on me has wreaked…
Satins Curse blew & wuthered!
Another seizure, the brain whirled!
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I’m handwashing again. I laundered two Kaghoules and some socks, hung them in the wet room, and turned on the heater. 

Bamboo socks

ABLUTIONS
The teeth & gums bled. However, that shave was better, with only one tiny cut!
Hoovered the hallway.
I took some boxes with the sorted waste bags to the rubbish chute without bothering anyone.
Medications went okay, well all apart from the fingal lesion, but I soon stopped the flow.

Carer Ahram arrived. The diabetic socks were put on, the medications were taken, and the daily catheter pouch was changed. It’s all good!

MY LONGEST-EVER SEIZURE!
I think Ménière’s disease brought on this type of seizure. I stop doing things when I get this type, but I am reasonably aware of what’s happening. I just can’t get involved until things are clear. But I could be wrong. This has been known regularly daily. I should think maybe nine or ten times a day, at least, and possibly more.
Alright, it’s a gusstimate! Haha!

Carer Joe came while I was out of it, but I knew he had been here. He also did the teatime call. 
Medications and little natter of which U could take part. I like it when that happens.

I investigated what was available for my evening or morning meal in the fridge and freezer. There was much to choose from.
The fridage has never been fuller. This is due to my expert skills and ability to carry out, repeatedly; 
after . By way of doing food orders that I can’t even remember doing. Usually, I end up throwing food I can’t afford to away weekly. As I cleaned the microwave, I often started one job and went on to another, forgetting the original designs I had started with.

Then, I wander off to do something else. The annoying part is when I realise I’d left the hot water tap running, the window open, the fridge door open, even the oven left on – in any combination! I once did them all on the same day. The hot water tap twice!
Sure enough, I wandered off and decided to open a can of water chestnuts, slice them up, and add them to three jars: one of pickled mushrooms, one of sweet and sour sauce, and one of black bean sauce.
I mixed and shook the jars and put them back into the fridge. Then, I had to nip sharpishly to the . A affair.
I cleaned things up.

Then, I returned to the computer to continue my Ode Creating task, which is one of my favourites!

CONTINUED...
An hour or so later, I felt doubts come over me. Thinking I may have left the hot tap running, I checked the wet room and kitchen. 
All was good with the taps… but I’d left the fridge door open! .
The fridge had spewed out water down the freezer below onto the floor. Cleaning it up, I could smell vinegar. Huh!
One of the jars I’d just made up had a crack! Fancy that, I suppose I must have caused it; I recall struggling to get the mushroom and chestnut jar into the fridge. I moved it to the top shelf.
I had to clean each shelf in the fridge, the inner of the door, the outer of the freezer door, and the floor!
. I cannot believe today’s rate of mistakes, Whoopsies, Accifauxpa, cock-ups and sheer bad luck!
I was well weary, depressed, self-condemned, and self-denigrated. Self-disparagement. Self-ridiculed. “I’m afflicted with a proclivity for self-criticism whereby every blemish is revealed in all its unredeemed ugliness.” Angry at myself too!
It’s not easy mopping and hoovering with the stick, mop, bucket, and hoover, especially in my current state: back angina, Glaucoma Gladys fading, and fogging my eyesight. Which is typical for this time of day. Usually starts to fade around 17:00hrs

STILL CONTINUING...
I got back to the computer. Again, the fear that I’d left something wrong in the kitchen made me investigate.
Nothing was left on or open.
However, I had still not cleaned the microwave. As I moved it to clean underneath, I found these tablets.
Wonder how long they’ve been under there.
The tablets got me looking at some from the medical draw to identify them. They were clean-looking. I didn’t get around to cleaning the microwave! I must have lost similar tablets before cause this photo above was found on file, showing the worktop under the microwave. Angst and depression increased!

I am so tired and frustrated, and at this moment, I am full of pathetic self-pity and something awful!
I did not want to make anything to eat until the last Carer call. I’ll have to go at the WP reader & comments until he/she arrives.

Carer Ahmed came. Socks off, painkillers given.
I won’t attach the night catheter bag because I will cook a meal. I just hope it lets me use it in the morning. Cheers!

I got the photo to go on late Monday morning.
MONDAY MORNING: What a start that was!
One for the annuls of medical history!
Worth reading. You might not believe it…
But it was how it went for the first two hours.

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TTFNski, Each!
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Inchy: Friday 4th April 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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Be aware that in indiscretion,
You may get a mental collision,
Which can cause self-derision,
Messing up your neurotransmission,
And, without your permission!
Ailments have no obluctation,
You feel that they get oblectation,
You visit your neurosurgeon…
Is life a pseudo-hallucination?
All of our lives are in regression,
You’ve lost your retrocognition,
PN, DVT, no prognostication,
Pharmageddon via your medication?
First Diarrhorea, & next constipation,
Confidence dies, feeling a pigwidgeon,
You think your brain’s an odditorium,
And life has got to be ordalian,
Do you feel different? Quotidian?
Is your social life in desolation?
Struggling with conceptualisation?
Are you livelier, antemeridian?
At noon, do you feel weather-beaten?
Do you get afternoon exhaustion?
Is tea-time your kipping season?
In bed, you can’t sleep for some reason?
Is mental fatigue the causation?
Or is it your body’s erosion?
Does the world seem dystopian?
Suffer from sanitary & sanity deterioration?
This is often just an old-age condition,
Do you think an interruption, a disruption?
Have you yet visited a psychometrician?
Does Earth need a reconceptualisation?
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Don’t expect a new life to be utopian!
Holidaying in the toilet or the Caribbean?
Has life been riddled with Damnification?
Was it spent in the lower echelon?
Do you suffer self-expostulation?
Do you know Earth’s nearing extinction?
This is not a joke or effutiation…
On this, I stake my reputation,
Do you feel an antiquarian?…
Well, don’t; it might cause acerbation!
It’s now time for an epiphenomenon,
Use your brain & nervous system…
Admit your guilt, write a eulogium,
Shout from Earth’s highest fastigium,
Humankind’s end is undoubtedly not an illusion,
We’ll all be free of intimidation…
Wars, murders, Oligarchs, every politician,
The greed, hatred and the odium,
Dead, we’ll all be egalitarian!
No way get a world-peace installation,
Well, this is my prediction…
It won’t bear too much contradiction…
Life’s events timewise, socialisation…
Birth, drugs, sex, physician, mortician,
Even if this gives you the impression…
That I’m suffering from depression!
It’s good to see the back of discrimination!
I believe this is mostly speculation…
Of course, it’s all theorisation,
Moulded to bring frivolity & jollification!
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05:20hrs: I rose fumblingly from the hospital bed, trapping the nocturnal catheter bag on the remote bed adjuster, and gave Little Inchie a hell of a tug. This started Inchies’s fungal lesion bleeding; it bled on the quilt, down my leg, and onto the carpet. 
After I sorted out the mess, I went to the wet room to empty and wrap the catheter pouch that had been removed.
After months without a stubbed toe, I gave myself a second one in two days, on the same ingrowing toenail, as yesterday.
Then, I took a regulation photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window. Well, I got two.
This is one of a man and his dog walking into the tree copse over the road, the dog’s tail wagging furiously. A double dose of jealousy affected me. Haha! First, I wished I had a cat or dog for company; second, I missed my beloved, unable to do a daily walk through the copse. (Feeling a smidgeon sorry for myself now.)

Luckily, next, I had just nipped into the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running and found  again. I’d run out of the cortisone cream. So I cleaned it and used some of the Germolene instead. Then, I returned to the kitchen and took another photograph of the broad view on offer.
Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd’s warning!

A bit of a marathon this morning. Bled a little more, I tipped over the bowl I was putting on the floor to stand in while shaving. Bending down to clear up the mess, and
flowed again! I finished shaving and got the PPs on.
I also touched up the Fungal Lesion, using the acne & eczema cream this time. I’d searched the medication drawers and found a partly filled tube of a different name. But it had a use-by date on it of… Hard to believe, I know, that it’s November 2019!

Carer Joe did the first call. I forgot to mention that Friday was the change-the-catheter bag day.

I booted the computer, an spent the nexy three hours farting about trying to get the photos to save to file. I did the first four, and there was no problem. Then it stopped saving. The usual cCleaner routine; I had to do it six times today! That didn’t help. So, I turned everything off and back on again. That proved an idiotic thing to do, well, not that actually, but forgetting to save the ode I was partway through writing was stupid!

At least it wasn’t so bad—up until now, anyway. Things took a dip after the young girl Carer called on her visit.  
I was still trying to sort out CorelDRAW and the photos, and a series of kicked off that stayed on and off for a good three hours. This threw me out altogether. With my concentration gone, I managed to get some photos backed up later, but I had to delete the ones used and replace them with the new ones, so to put it. Now, the only copies left are on WordPress, and they can’t be copied or saved for use on the blog or email. I’m not sure if I was heartbroken, frustrated, or I was momentarily leaning towards suicidal.freezer 08When the Iceland order arrived, I only took one photo of the whole fridge. I didn’t bother taking more because I knew the chances of using them lay within the corrupt power of my old, in-need-of-help, ailing, terminally ill computer.
I got some stuff I can’t remember ordering. And somehow I believed I’d ordered some tinned baked beans and tomatoes, none came. It will be better when Carer Joe starts helping with the food ordering. I can’t be relied on, know it, and am incapable of anything that involves numbers, dates, concentration or logic. 

The Social Services lady rang to ask how the new Carers were doing. Last week, I wondered if there was any chance of help getting me out shopping rather than the mistake-ridden online routine. The Carer said his boss said no chance. But the Social Lady told me they are giving me an extra hour (Still got to pay for, of course) for domestic and/or shopping assistance. Going slowly senile is a horrible thing, cause you know it, don’t want it, and can do nothing about it. I suppose it’s a little bit like my sex life, nonexistent. Hehehe!

Carer Ahram made the last two calls. He was in a good mood, bless him. The communication was complex, but I like the lad. When she rang, I told the Social lady that he’s likeable and willing. Without Carer Joe, I might have cracked up last week. His help was invaluable to me. 

I did notice that when someone came and I put in the repaired hearing aids, I could hear the wall clock ticking and other sounds I could not recognise. Haha!

By the time I finished the meal, it was past midnight. Three oven-baked bacon cobs. This is a terrible photo. I wish I had not bothered with taking it now! Getting this onto the blog took me over two hours in the morning! Saturday’s blog will be a smidge bland. I just can’t keep spending all this time getting the photos saved to file. As usual, the first two went on without a bother. The rest must have taken me hours and hours of repeated failed tries. This can’t go on. I openly beg someone to help me with the computer, please?
The trouble is that I can no longer understand written instructions and don’t know any computer jargon, and I get more confused.
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TTFN
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