Harold’s Haemorrhoids

Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
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A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
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I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
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Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
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I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
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WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025
I had even fewer jumping awakes last night.
Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.

After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today.
Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did.  
A good job that he remembered!

The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.

I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.

I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker.
I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!

A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe!
An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford.
I went inside the waiting room and waited. 
But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!

I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me.
I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep!
At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t.
But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.

There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.

He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of.
Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.

Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something Wrong Here!

I pressed on with the day’s blog.

Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!

Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.

I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.

Back in the morning, I hope.

Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast…
Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…

I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again!
Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room.
The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!

I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it.
I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.

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Thanks everyone!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 1st April 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I’ve no claims to anything academical,
I’m interested in anything apodeictical,
Like the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle,
Some claim that he used to hit the bottle,
I used to drink a lot, being self-critical,
The only trait we share? Being alcoholical,
But I can auger, but not astrological,
My success rate is astronomical,
I see this world is not ameliorable,
I know why Starmer is amerceable,
Takes backhanders, is unprosecutable,
His promises are agathokakological,
His cohorts are also not punishable,
As they appease the Oligarchical,
I seek words that are encourageable,
Proletariats are now extirpable…
MP’s morals uncouth, aethereal,
They lie, seek self-profit & teazle,
HMGs are foxy, furtive, deceitful,
Slithery, snidey, sidestepping, hurtful,
They should be accusable and arrestable,
Indeed, are they executionable?
Has HMG been proven unreliable?
Who takes over? That’s questionable!
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I had the usual broken sleep, but at least this time, it was broken far fewer times, and I got four½ and a half hours! I was too late to complete the ablutions before the Asda delivery arrived. 
I collated the things that I needed to take to the Audio Clinic and visited the Porcelain Throne. It was a messy! Trotsky Terence affair.

06:20hrs: I checked emails to confirm the timing of the order. 0700 > 0800hrs.

So, I got the computer to start this blog. Soon kicked off, as is typical when I am in a ‘feeling the pressure mode’ over the clinic lifts and appointments. Foggy-Brained!

GC Trolley indoorsI’m not sure when the Caregiver will arrive, but I hope he will be here for the delivery to help get it in. Then I can store it away. And get on with the hurried ablutions, medicalisationings, and risky job of getting the trousers on. I’ll get the things to take into the three-wheel-wheeled-walker while I think of it.
I must get down in the lobby at 10:30hrs so as not to miss the lift, which may come early or late, depending on how many others they have to pick up and drop off en route.

The carer arrived as I was taking in the Asda food.
After I’d got all the bags in the kitchen, I joined the Caregiver, who put the medications and socks on. Then, as I was going out, I asked him to help me put on the trousers and shoes.

Pretty colours this morning

Asda delivery

Ready-made meals (Almost)

I got the Carer’s & Nurses nibbles & drinkies topped up on the table and cabinet.

The computer stopped allowing me to upload photos. I had to delete the few I’d not put on and clean the drive with cCleaner again. I’ll try later when I get back from the Audio Clinic. That was the plan!

It was a heck of a rush getting the stand-up wash, shave, and medications done. I flapped a bit, getting all the paperwork and the list of things I needed to take with me. I checked the EasyLink lift.

On the way down to the foyer to await the lift, I dropped some bits off in appreciation of the help Jenny and Frank have so often given me on their floor. I went down in the lift, worrying if I’d forgotten to take anything. I got seated in the chair and got the camera out as I checked the bag of things in the trolley-walker. 10:15hrs, plenty of time.
They have replaced the stolen wall clock. It has fancy smaller figures, but I’d had my wristwatch on.

Almost straight away, I found myself fighting off the closing eyelid. The tiredness and fatigue were back!
I’m sure I nodded off momentarily a good few times. But at least when the driver comes to the foyer door, she/he will see me even if I’d nodded off.
But the frequency worried me; I really was struggling to stay awake. Likely it was the comfort of the chair that I wasn’t used to, having to use the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner.

I was concerned that I may have nodded for a little longer than I thought; I may have missed the driver from EasyLink. Guilt raised its ugly head.
I waited until I should have been starting the appointment, realising that I must have made a faux pas or they had trouble getting a driver. Not knowing, I decided to believe that I must have made a Whoopsiedangleplop. And  ! This turned me swiftly into a curmudgeonly grump!
I walked along the connecting passageway to Winwood Court in case they (EasyLink) called at the wrong block of flats. Nope!
Back misrably to the flat amidst the depression, self-lambasting, and the catheter bag getting overfull!

I sorted out the waste from the earlier delivery and got the bags down the waste chute.

I decided to prep the meal for the microwave later: Colcanon mash, minced beef, gravy, carrots, peas, and water chestnuts. I put it in the fridge. I also turned on the computer to keep this blog up to date. I hoped the phone would ring to clarify whatever mistake I’d made. It did!

Frustrated, Depressed & Self-Loathing…
CONFUSED! – HAD ENOUGH!
I can’t take any more of these problems!
ARITHMAPHOBIA TO BLAME, this time!

What happened, as I see it.

The pleasant lady from EasyLink telephoned to confirm that Wednesday’s lift to the Audio clinic was pick-up at 10:25 and lift back at 13:00 hrs!
When I checked the timings yesterday, I must have been the arithmaphobia. I’d already got it down for Wednesday but got mentally entangled with the digits again.
So, I’ve got all this to do again in the morning!
This sounds scary to me, actually.

I got the meal cooked and eaten.

Lightened a smidge, but I was so annoyed at myself!

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ALL THE BESTEST!
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Inchy Today: Sat-Sunday 29/30th March 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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The Carer took shots of the much-improved Vasculitis-Vanessa’s right leg and ankle.
Improving nicely now.
Although the ankle is still resistant. I decided not to ask the lad to put any squabs or bandages on tonight.
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I had a good meal last night. I gave it a 9/10. As I watched the Brighton v Nottingham Forest FA Cup Match, Sister Jane reminded me of it being on TV when I phoned her. While eating and watching the match, I kept falling asleep. Dagnab it! But the Carer came and woke me up, then the surgery telephoned me. Then the water alarm activated. Then I had to empty the catheter contraption, return to the chair, and doze off while the match was on. I decided to give up. I was just too tired, and I thought I might get a decent night’s sleep in for once. Hahaha!
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>>>>>Starmer Ode No.325¼<<<<<
He’s a Scrooge-like abrogator…
Cut fuel help for every pensioner,
A Labour Party principles nullifier,
Ignores the core values of Labour,
Fuel and food prices get higher,
He takes many an illegal backhander,
Proletariats’ futures looking bleaker,
Takes the maximum self-paid bonsella,
Checking MPs’ expenses is not on his agenda!
I worry for Keir’s mental-cenesthesia,
As he seeks freebies at his many colloquia,
He may not be farceur, but he is farcicaler,
Politically, a liar, deluder, and deceiver,
A Labour supporters faith-severer,
The Labour voters own derogator,
What happened to nationalising power?
And British Rail’s return… he’s a fibber!
He’s Europe’s finest thimblerigger,
I would willingly handle his vivisepulture!
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Another repeated waking-up with jumps nights sleep. I had a long verbal and then physical tussle to convince the brain to get the reluctant body out of bed. This took a while and some discomfort.

My mind wandered as I sat there on the Throne. Tomorrow is the Audio Clinic appointment. I must prepare everything needed beforehand. The following shave was a bloodless affair. Yes!
Apart from forgetting to put the cream on my ankles, tummy, Germoloid groin, and grapefruit-sized right testicle and apply the eye spray, it all went well. Haha! Oh, I did stop the bleeding , and I used the ultra-stinging Terbinafine to stop the bleeding. Went back in the wet room to olive oil my earholes and other missed medicationalisationings. 

The young Caregiver arrived as I was finishing making up the waste bags. No leg bandaging needed. Joe issued the Medications. Then he checked the taps, fridge door, and stove and trotted off.

I turned on the computer and started this blog, then worked on the Ode for Tuesday in Word.

12:45hrs: I finally got the order to transfer, but now the photos are not being moved!

I’ll keep trying and surviving, and possibly start crying!

FOOTBALL ON TV
The Carer arrived. He said he would look at my emails later tonight.
WEIRD SEIZURES: This did not happen due to sudden fatigue. Not a seizure as such. I nodded off and woke repeatedly until 03:15 hrs, when I suddenly woke up and stayed awake. I was in a confused picklement. No memory of a carer calling, but they had been because they’d fitted the nocturnal night bag, and I could taste the Warfarin. The last call, I remember bits of, the diabetic socks coming off, I think I may have dropped the tablets. One was on the carpet when I eventually got up.

Piccies that I managed to save later.
Not sure if the day is right.
I think it was an afternoon shot, so I must have got up sometime after the fatigue set in.
I’m not sure if I got the meals in order.

The Weirdest Day of March!
Sensations like never before. The sudden falling of fatiguedness, so few seizures (as I recognise them). 
I genuinely think I nodded and woke dozens of times throughout the late afternoon, night & morning.
I somehow felt only weary, yet not overly tired or exactly poorly. Manifested mightily and toyed with my brain throughout. It was a bizarre, eerie, idiosyncratic, schismatic, almost other-wordly insanity-inviting day!
Half in depression – half in la-la land.

Loosing My Grip on Life’s Sinking Ship!
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But I’ll not give up… Oh, No! (Well…) Hehe!

Inchy Today Monday 24th March 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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Oh, for a night’s sleep, to inveigle,
A full night’s sleep would be incredible,
Lack of sleep is so depressional…
Causes, multi-varied, the seizures aberration?
Steve’s Thought Storms, all choplogical,
Anne Gyna, having a resurrection?
Duodenal Donald, so damned painful,
Twitching Neck Nigel’s jerking motion,
Shaking Shaun with a misguggle.
Doreen Dementia being nepenthean,
Is the catheter malfunctional,
Arthur Itis, cartilages, fungal lesion,
Cognitive Impairment, to confuddle,
Back Pain Branda, nightmare confusion,
A Grizelda dream, feeling coital,
Mechanical aorta, piles, corporality,
EQ visits and being oblectational,
The usual imprecation & malediction,
Guilt, vilification, ankles inquination
Last night was more confusional…
No sleep, but no real reason…
Causing me aggravations,
Not any pain from my bunions,
None of the usual causes?
Do I need some detoxifications?
Why? What causes my sleep dysfunctions?
What are the justifications, & reasons?
What were or are the causes?
What’s ruining my nocturnal hibernations?
Maybe I’m having noctambulations?

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Rush job, it’s a devil trying to catch up with so many jobs to do. I assume the Carers & Social are arranging for the domestic and financial hep visits to be started, eventually.

A 7, I think, on the NHS scale.

The sun broke through.
But not for long.
Still, that means that Gladys Glaucoma will not be affected so much.

Clock-Calendar.

Slow, painful, & bloody.

The wound on Arthur Itis and Catheter Chloe is getting so much better already.

Unburnt lambburgers!
Georgous!

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CHEERS!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 6th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Inchy: Grim, can’t you ring the bell before you visit?
Grim: Well, that wouldn’t look very authentic!
Inchy: Ah, I can see the logic…
Grim: Anyroad, it’s some good luck for you, Inchy, that I’ve come to transmit!
Inchy: Oh, goodie, I don’t usually good news rhetoric.
Grim: The H&H ‘Hearafter Selection Committee’ usually has a maximum percentage allowed, and it’s strict.
Inchy: Yes, tell me in plain language, not contorted or overscholastic…
Grim: Well, our auger & accountant tells us of a coming peace treaty, and we’ll need someone up there with us to keep the score in the following Oligarch-inspired war. Well, Heaven and Hell still use Windows 3.
Inchy: Yes, tell me tell me…
Grim: Don’t talk to me like that, all antagonistically!
Inchy: Sorry, but I’m excited. Accept my apology!
Grim: We don’t have anyone up there who can remember Windows 3; it changes almost daily.
Inchy: You mean Word and Excel? Have I heard what you said correctly?
Grim: It’s difficult for the computer to run with no electricity!
Inchy: What? H & H both exist powerlessly?
Grim: Well, heaven did a deal with Hell, and they get the politicians, Oligarchs and murderers to produce the power using pedal power, and all for free.
Inchy: Hehehe!
Grim: We use a power system called Cyclistically to make our own electricity.
Inchy: Do they have to cycle for eighteen-hour shifts? Is there no food or drink? Will they be beaten about the head if they go too slowly?
Grim: Aye, they cycle 24/7/7, abundantly!
Inchy: Heavens & Hell, that news pleases me!
Grim: Now we can fit you in surreptitiously,
If you promise to use Window 3 Inchy, secretly.
Inchy: I’ll work diligently if you just take me away.
From this hellhole of an earth & cruel life…
I’ve been denied a wife, get ailments & strife…
But would my health, mental & physical, revive?
Grim: We’ll never know. You won’t be alive…
Inchy: How will I cope with computer & hardrive?
Grim: If you pass St. Peter’s inquisition, you’ll thrive!
Inchy: I’ll thrive but not be alive! Is that coercive?
Grim: Don’t tell me you’re feeling apprehensive?
It’s an alternative, a sort of imitation life…
Inchy: It’s Earth life that I’m not coping with!
Grim: You’ll find things are different, cosmocratic,
Inchy: Will the souls be kind & communistic?
Grim: They certainly will not be consumeristic,
Inchy: Is that good? Bad? It seems to contradict,
Grim: You really want to stay on Earth’s cesspit?
Inchy: No, no, no! Look at me, I’m cadaveric.
I’ll come with you, even if this is all a trick!
Grim: I’ll tell summat else to make you ecstatic,
Inchy: Please do, Grim. Make me aware,
Grim: One of your jobs when you get up there…
Will be a sort of aged welcoming au pair,
Doing one-to-one interviews, as an assessor,
Deciding which sole will go where…
To Heaven, & peace everafter…
Or to hell, specifally to be a cycler,
You’ll sentence each one, whomsoever,
I’ll assure you can Starmer!
I’ll ensure Starmer gets you as an interviewer!
Inchy: Great, I’m ready when you are!
Grim: Sorry, I was pulling your leg.
Still, I’ve made you so much cheerier!
Inchy: You little monkey, you’re getting cheekier!
Grim: Anyway, if I took you now, you’d miss Keir’s funeral & not be able to be the cheerleader!
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3 To Find – In Nine Seconds.
I think that’s a little short.
It took me nine minutes to get them all!
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Smoked ham on non-butter buttered cheesy topped rolls. With sliced Natoora black tomatoes. Sea salted.
With cooked beetroot and battered mashed potatoes.
A pot of lemon & lime yoghourt last night.
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Two Natorra tomatoes left to have later.
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A decent 6 hours of sleep and a few wake-ups, but not due to . Not a lot of them anyway.

Removed from the day pouch, and from then on, I started so many tasks in a short space of time and made many errors. For example, after I started sorting the waste bags out. Got three bags into one and intended to do the other two. But no, not me. I found myself with my head in the oven cleaning the racks.  I say I found myself because obviously one of the seizures had got a hold of me; the last thing I remember doing before this was taking the first bag to the door. And was going to sort the front room bins. I looked in the room, and they had not been done.
It gets better! I returned to the kitchen to see what I’d done with the oven and found a tap had been left running and a nightshirt in the sink. Since the water was cold, I assumed I must have been rinsing after washing the Kagoul. I rinsed the shirt and wrung it out, ready to put it on a coathanger to drip dry in the wet room… I reckon it caused me a bout of vertigo as I removed the shirt from the sink to the bowl. No need to tell you, but I will: I dropped the bowl, water all over the floor and me, and the monitoring station came through to tell me the water leak alarm had activated. It took me a minute or two to regain my balance sufficiently to reach the monitor.

I never recovered from this bout all day long. A new fear gripped me, and it was amazing that I didn’t take a tumble again. I sat down for a minute or two and changed the clock-calendar on the computer desk.

I was soon back in the kitchen, sorting out the mess. Then I got a look at the oven that I’d come round to, to find I was working on cleaning it.  
What a mess! I’d put some foam spray cleaner on everything, but then I found the bottle label that read, “WARNING: For Bathroom & Toilet Cleaning Only!”
So, I spent ages getting it off and drying the oven.

A nagging douby that I was going to, or needed to do something, lasted for about ten-seconds. Then I made my way to the wet room to get the ablutions, medications and Porcelain Throne duties done.
The Porcelain Throne was not even sat on.
However, I managed a gentle shave and only caught the head patches from yesterday’s tumble a few times. The shaving was done so gingerly that I might not have bothered.
The neck growth felt the same to my touch as before I’d shaved! The went okay. And… I got the fresh PPs on without any falls, stumbles or droppages!

A Caregiver arrived, and I remembered that I needed to hang the Kagoule on the wetroom shower rails to dry. So, after the carer had medicated me, I got another kagoule washed and hung it up with the other in the wet room.
I wasn’t with it at all today. I thought about making a brew of Glengettie, but then I remembered I’d not taken the waste bags to the chute yet.   So, I did!
There were no traps on my fingers or my hand. And no walking into the doorframes. 2.

Carer Sam arrived. Took the laundry down for me, bless her.

A belated, unexpected series of Mini-Seizures visited me. After all the work I’d done today to try to catch up, for about four hours I was… was, well, erm… in and out-of-it. When in, I had to try to sort out what’d gone while I was out of it… but would go out of it before I could get an angle on what I’d been doing when I was out-of-it the time before; if anything.
I just read the above, and Blanety-Blank came to mind. 

I made a meal, Sweet and sour chicken Chinese style. I boiled and added some potatoes and a small jar of Hoisin and spring onion sauce. I bought it years ago; I can’t find a use-by date. Then, I also decided to have some potato waffles on the side. So, I did! I was so hungry.
When I was about to fetch Kodak Tim 2, the Carer arrived, and I forgot to photograph the meal. Tsk!

Cocked things up again.

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed. 


Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!
I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me! 
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

/ Inchie / 19 Comments

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THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES!
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The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution!
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I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance!
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What a fantastic dream I had last night!
I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it…  David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake.   
Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.

As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg.  
I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down. 
I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier. 
The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth.
I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy.
The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.

I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer.
I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times.
I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.

The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed.
It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes…
 Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!

Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet.
My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards.
Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.

There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.

Time to get a meal.
This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .

I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

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DDDD DAWNED
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Inchys Ode: Saturday 1st March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Ode Old– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Duncan paid fewer visits today,
But perhaps I shouldn’t say…
It’s not as if he went away,
What will happen on Saturday?
Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory,
If it comes, it’s always only briefly,
Though it always returns, worryingly,
But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly,
I got that from my thesaurus dictionary,
My life bears moments of uncertainty…
Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety,
No claims to rightness or piety,
Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy,
I often act subconsciously, mistakenly,
Or over-humbly, sycophantishly,
At times, I’m away with the sidhe,
If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns,
With my own brain, I can lock horns,
Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon,
Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection,
Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration?
He can bring on a cruel self-beration,
Sometimes, a sort of zombification,
A low, deeper than being woebegone,
While accepting my own antiquation…
With its struggle amany and vulneration,
Dementia Doreen is another vaurien,
Incogniscent Iris, seisures often…
DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see,
Alternates with DDDD visit frequently,
One extreme or the other, persistently,
Never equidistantly or contentedly,
I can struggle to find reality, facticity,
Thoughts, movements show contumacy…
My neurotransmitters are dying on me, 
Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly?
A chance of it being right? They go astray!
High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly,
DDDDD? Then things can get tricky…
Throw in the odd interrupting seizure…
What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater,
I often turn into self-loathing babbler,
When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter,
Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger,
Or has the temerity to get smaller,
Or new farces & snags I discover,
While I’m under Horis’s protective cover!
Ménière’s, seizures… but I always recover,
In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter,
The nurse arrived to change my catheter,
Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay,
I wouldn’t go back in straightaway,
We had a bit of a shilly-shally…
We got it in, although it was bloody,
Then she checked the state of my rear alley,
She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation,
returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
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HOWZAT!
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A bad day.
Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.

Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs.
The pouch was taken off and emptied.
Waste bags sorted and ready.
Made up some pots to use for the laundry.

Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.

Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.

Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!

I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.

The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX

I took this snap as she departed.

Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.

By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky!
To the right.
To the left.
Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.

Carer Chris returned. Medications given.

I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Good Run Continuing! –
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– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
:::::
Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
:::::
Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
:::::
Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
:::::
People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
:::::
Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
:::::
Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
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FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
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I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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GC blondeTHE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
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A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
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04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about. 
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris. 
I’m losing the battle.


After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today. 

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado. 

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two? 
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages. 
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

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Eigðu góðan dag – Have A Good Day
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