Humour – Inchie Today

Inchie: Thursday 25th December 2025

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– – – GOOD MORNICUS! – – –
BG, I had a decent sleep, no waking ups, no seizures, as far as I could tell.
Stirred at 05:20hrs, fell asleep at 05:23hrs. Woke 06:00hrs, fell asleep at approx 0610hrs. Woke at 07:00hrs and forced myself to get up.

The Carer arrived, sorted my medications, and Porpain-gelled my left and right arthritic knees. After hoovering around, he had to go. I bade him farewell and thanked him, and as he shut the door behind him, I went into a seizure that caused me more bother than usual. Humph! I came out of it with the typical acidity upflux, and waiting until things cleared in the head, then went to get a drink of soda water from the fridge, a cold drink sometimes helps in recovering.
Oh, dear, I’d left the hot water tap running! I turned it off and needed to visit the. Boy, was that another Trotsky Terence messy, gooey, yet sticky affair. Yes, it was.
When, providing I can find Kodak Tim 2, I can take some snaps… I’ve taken a look around without any luck so far. I’ll try again later. If one of the two good Carers calls, I’ll ask them to have a look. Cataract Katie is giving me some wobbly, blurry objects, moving moments. Then eases off into an opaqueness and blur, and back to the floaters.

Started blogging again, but it was not easy, and so annoying. CorelDraw was playing up, getting on a bit swifter now. Going to get as much done as I can before the eye fades.
Bigmouth me – CorelDraw is sticking and occasionally unresponsive again. Grrr!

Ejaz did the midday call. Painkillers, Phorpain-Gel on the tight knee, and put some cream on the ingrowing toenail. He’s a nice, helpful lad.

Pressed on with the blogging and got to doing the Ode at last. Slow work, Cataract Katie, Skahing Shaun and even Twitching-Neck-Nickolas joined in.

Mt friends, Jenny & Frank, brought up a wonderful-looking ‘all-the-works’ Christmas Day meal for me. 🤎
I got settled to dine, and soon realised that I’d underpraised the meal earlier.
I have enjoyed a meal so much in my life.
Not being able to find Kodak Tim-2 really annoyed me. I wanted so much to take a photo of it, to show you all the festive feast that was the best present anyone could hope for. Jenny even brought up a mug with extra gravy in case I wanted any more. Marvellous!
I washed the plate and rang Jenny to thank her. Frank even came up to collect the plates and mug. I’d been over-spoilt, and I appreciated and loved it.
Thank you both so much!

I was so well-satiated, all I could do was sit on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, and fall asleep. It was such a delightful filling banquet.
No nibbling tonight needed!

I was woken after an hour or so as the Carer arrived. He issued the medications in his usual efficient way. And, I rhapsodised over the meal. Del Boy may have said ‘Lovely-Jubbly’. Spike Milligan might have said ‘Fanbloodytastic’. I think it was ‘Heaven-Sent’.

When I got up from the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner, and a rarely appearing ailment, shot up my right leg, but no bother, because of the anticipated and welcome arrival of . Off to the kitchen to get a cool bottle of soda water from the fridge… and
. There on the window ledge resting atop a bottle of mushroom ketchup was none other than my !
And returned Kodak-Tim to his usual resting place on the computer desk, next to the hearing aid box and Earache Erasmus’s olive oil dispensers. Returning to take a snap of the evening sun on its way down from the open window. Just about in time, cause it had disappeared two minutes later over the horison,

Thanks to Jenny & Frank.

Well, cometh the new year, to ring in,
Time for merriment & yodelling?
For renewed dreams and hoping?
To find a better way of coping?
With politicians, blatant lying?
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

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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…
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Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
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Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
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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,
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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!
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Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
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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: Thursday 27th February 2025

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

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May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

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THE 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!
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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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Inchy’s Alphabet Ode

Alp- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Forgive the references to Starmer.
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ALPHABETICAL A
There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Life may yet get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I once tried to be a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!

Keir is an addicted taxation tchotchke,
Pensioners Farmers, has he got theophobia?
He’s given the trichotillomania,
Although an excellent thimblerigger…
I’d love to be his gravedigger tomorrow!

I feel like a foreigner an uitlander,
I’d like to be a uranographer,
Last week, I had urinemia,
Sorry, we said adieu,
To the EU,

Starmer? I’d willingly do his vivisepulture!
He’s an untrustworthy liar & morals-violater,
To Labour promises he’s a vilifier,
They may be lies, but he’s a good verbalist,
Out only for selfprofit, a viveurist!

I was once fun, a wassailer,
Not like Starmer, the waghalter,
The profitmonger, liar, wiseacre,
He should go to hell or heaven, whichever…
My hatred for him will never wither!

Years ago, I’d kowtower, I was a yeasayer,
But now well aged, I’m not so yellow,
I admit to being a peace-loving yawper,
Unashamed of loving a good yatter,

Proud to be compassionate, a zoolater,
My ability to spot a zeitgeber,
I love clothes blue, purple and zaffre,
I love food, especially zakuska,
I’d love to shoot Keir with a police zapper!

It’s rubbish, I know, but a bit of fun?
Cheers, Each!
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Chumpier Inchie: Tuesday 17th December 2024

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It may have only been a temporary & transient moment, but when I stirred at 05:20hrs, there was a worrying amount of satisfaction in the air! Verging almost on contentment!
As soon as I knocked the cut thumb against the catheter stopper when releasing it, and blood flowed – so did the depression. All my worries about the chemist, booking problems that need outside help to call the pharmacy, the audio centre, and booking a lift to get the hearing aids amended flowed as well. The reason for this near-waking jollity baffled me at first. Why? Why? Why should it have been there to greet me as I woke up? Why? I was soon back in grumpland & painland.
As the confusion eased. The worry, too, was when I realised the likely answer would be that I’d been dreaming. Not that I could recall any details. But an aura lingering in my grey cells indicated… well, passion! Hehehe!

As I heaved my cumbersome overweight bellied body off of the bed and sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, alarm bells rang (pain) from Little Inches Fungal Lesion and poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I could feel the fresh-cracked, previously dried blood trickling free from those areas. I hobbled to the wet room to investigate. Not liking what I discovered.
I cleaned up the rear end and groin and got the ablutions tended to before attempting any medications. The shave produced far too many cuts; I may have had a mini-seizure while shaving… but I’m not sure. Am I ever?

All I know for sure is that after finishing the razor work, I had a bloody lip, nose, and neck (four cuts at the back!), and I’d somehow got another cut under the thumbnail to add to the one where I stabbed the end of the bead knife under the nail yesterday! Still, the Brut aftershave soon stemmed the flowing red stuff.
Oh, and it stung a bit! Hey-Ho!

The pain from getting Little Inchies Fungal Lesion done first only deserves one word… ARRGH! Ear holes are olive-oiled, and the eye drops and spraying were sorted. As for the Nurse told me to use the Barrier Cream on Harrold’s Haemorrhoids, well, not after last night’s agony, mate! I went back on the Germolois ointment, which was a blessed relief! Almost instant as I applied it. Costly, though! I used my small picker-upperer to apply the cream to the ulcer and Renaud-Ridden Toes. I also sprayed some Dettol on the ankle ulcers and Germolene on the cracked lips and nose. The tiny split in the thumbnail edge. Getting my dangling man breasts and back medicated was not so easy; I couldn’t reach where I needed to be. I’ve got a fair girth amidships! (Later on, Carer Chloe applied it for me, thank you, Chloe ♥)

Getting the Protection Pants on this morning took me much longer than my recorded time of 11 minutes. However, on the bright side of things, albeit a marathon session (Honestly!), there was no bleeding whatsoever… I’d like to say that again, please… There was no bleeding whatsoever! .

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and got the 1970’s manual clock adjusted to today’s numbers. The care did it again and made the right side of the photo look ultra bright? I wish I knew what I was doing wrong! Well, I stabbed myself again! I went to put the mushrooms in the slow cooker to pickle them tonight. And… for the third time on the trot of using the sharp pointy knife, I stabbed myself in my hand. I must stop!

I returned to the kitchenette, as the 99 tea had gone cold, and I made a super strong mug with two tea bags in it. To a snap of it, then without changing anything on the Kodak, I took the shot above from the window of the greenish morning sky. Much later, when it came to putting the photos on CorelDraw, the mug of extra strong tea was not on the SD card, but, as you can see, the green sky came through okay to the card?

I checked on the Google calendar, realising I’d not put the appointment on it for the (I love this old title) (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis. (VTR) Venous thromboembolism includes (PE) pulmonary embolism (PE) and the Warfarin Monitoring Clinic. They’ve changed it now, and it has a humdrum title: Anticoagulation Clinic. Hehe! Also, please note I’ve got three food orders arriving in three days? Have I lost my grip on things again? (Well, it’s likely) Asda yesterday, Iceland today, and Ocado tomorrow. Hopefully, I can do without an order until or after Christmas now. Most of the items on these three, well, not on Ocado but the others, is treats and drinkies for the staff, Nurses & Carers for Christmas.

The Iceland order arrived. The driver took the bags to the kitchen for me; there were only four of them. Very few fresh products. Apart from the mushrooms that I hope to turn into pickled mushrooms today, and three days later, I will be ready for nibbling! So the fridge looked about the same as it did yesterday. Not that I needed anything anyway. But I must resist getting anything else in, or the bank manager will have my guts for garters. By gum, sorting the other bags out took me a while.
They both had Christmas nibbles and treats in them.
I have two shelves filled with drinkies to offer the Christmas workers this year. Hopefully, no nurses will need to call, but I must ring them and tell them to collect their bottles.
The nibbles bowl was filled. I had to put some of them on the Carer’s desk. A decent choice to offer them this year. I love doing this, but it doesn’t stop them from telling me off occasionally… well, often. Haha!

arrived, as I was finishing sorting out the fodder and was just about to start prepping the mushrooms for cooking and then pickling them. We discussed if she could help me in the morning instead of doing domestic work and if she could try to call the audio clinic or chemist for me to help sort out my concerns. I think she said she may be able to try the clinic. Oh, I hope she can get through.

I started updating the blog. Since there is not much left to do on Mondays, I should send it out earlier today.

Carer Chloe returned as I’d just finished cooking and pickling and jarred up the mushrooms. I fear that the first attack of the day came from . Hence, I cannot recall much of what took place. I do remember her using the Hoover thingamibob. But little else, Tsk!

After Chloe had left, I turned my attention to the mushrooms that were now cooked and the task of pickling them. I hope I got the order of things right. I drained and cleaned the mushrooms from the slow cooker. Left them to cool down a little and washed the cooker basin. I stored the mushroom in the now empty pickling jar. They looked a lot darker than yesterday? Hope they turn out alright. I’ve got the remainder of the uneaten ones in a used jar and got them out of the fridge for later tonight (although it looks like it may be in the early hours of the morning; I’m so far behind with everything, grumpy, groan and gragknacles!

My lovely neighbour Jenny telephoned me. She had read the blog about my hearing aid problem and offered to give me some batteries if that was the problem.
She is so kind to me. ♥

Then I received an email from Lisa in the US of A! Another Gem in my life. She commiserated with my problems; she has more than enough of her own. ♥ Told me of for feeling guilty, Bless her Cotton Socks! ♥

Carer Sam called. She said she would find my laundry bag and return it to me if she could. I don’t think she found it. Carer Chris did the teatime call and did not bring it up, but he might have it on his last call. No, I have confidence in the lad, absolutely. Mind you, if it disappeared, it’d be the fourth time since I started having Carers take it to the launderette.
Good Luck and I do not have an affinity!
Having quoted that, it was lovely today having two angels asking how things were.
Jenny 💛 & Lisa 🧡

It’s late now. I’ll get summat to eat, methinks.

Nice feast of sorts here! Home pickled mushrooms and water chestnuts, cheesy rolls well non-butter buttered, with dabs of Marmite. Potatoes, garden peas, pickled eggs (shop-bought), and a very tasty tub of delicious lemon curd yoghourt.

Carer Christopher made his last call.
And he immediately set to getting the new mini-oven out of the box and into action on top of the old, broken-down large cooker.
Took him no time at all. I couldn’t lift the box, let alone get it up onto the old cooker.
We turned on the electricity after plugging it into a socket. I admit to a slight nervousness about doing this. Remembering what happened with the old cooker… Would it blow the fuses again? Well, after showing me the controls, I turned on the oven. It was heating up immediately, and no blown fuses to put us in the dark!
Great” Thanks, Chris!
Chris issued the medications and got the nocturnal catheter to bog out for me to put on. We forgot to take my diabetic socks off, but things were rushed a little while doing the cooker for me, so I’m not bothering about the Night bag at all. After Christ departed, I got a Kodak camera out and took this shot of the cooker, with it lit up inside and my reflection of taking the shot on the glass. The flask masked the two hobs on top of the machine. Humph!
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All the bestest, folks!
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Twitchy Inchy: Thursday 12th December 2024

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05:30hrs: I stirred, with Cartilage Chloe giving me pain the moment I tried to genuflect the leg. She’s still bothering me a bit now. I detached the night ouch from the catheter day pouch. A little dark, but I’ve had far worse. I felt pretty good as I started plodding around, apart from Chloe. There have been no electric shocks so far! It was very cold this morning. I sorted some waste bags and limped into the kitchen. I snapped a picture of the morning view and checked the fridge to ensure I could fit all of today’s food in when the delivery arrived.
I removed a pack of the horrible-tasting Asda brand cheesy topped rolls and binned them. Make a fine, tasty brew of Glengettie tea, and I got the computer booted up.
The Windows update brought up some Microsoft details that confused me about what it was reading. Grrr!
Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose in a rush. I got to the wet room ASAP, only just in time as things started moving of their own accord. Trotsky Terence controlled. Messy, back to the Karki colouring, pooey, and sticky. It took a lot of cleaning up. I cleaned and ointmentated various body areas and parts in need. I have no shortage of Barrier cream!
The intercom chirped up. It was the J Sainsbury order arriving. The driver soon appeared at my doorway and was very helpful & understanding of my problems. Thank you, driver!
As I began to put them away, Carer Sam arrived. With the order on my mind, I forgot to ask her to put on my diabetic socks. Tsk! Sam issued the medications, and we had a mini-natter and a laugh. I wondered if she knew how long one had to pickle mushrooms before one could eat them, as I intended to try making some today. Neither of us knew, so I’ll look it up later on the web. Off she went… and I got back to unpacking the foodstuffs. I’ll do it now!

Oh, dear! I remembered I did not have a cooker now! So I can’t boil them. Humph!

Back to unloading and storing. This photograph shows potato chunks, mushrooms (Huh!), beef tomatoes, beetroot chilli, a jar of garden peas, imitation butter, and lemon desserts.
Some drinks and nibbles. Then I checked the fridge, but there was almost no difference from the one I had taken earlier. No shortages, though.
Plenty of jars of meat, few cans in the cupboard, and some long-life, ready-made meals to do in the microwave.
Then I took another kitchen window shot. I think that is the last I remember taking that picture, for about an hour or so. The most odd seizure that I’ve ever had. Time to call the medics! I was back on the computer when things became more transparent about what was what. I was searching for the Nuthall Hospital number, and the landline chirped. Who was it? A lady from Nuthall Hospital! Amazing! They are cancelling next week’s appointment and will make a new one for the new year. Me? I thanked her very much and wished her a Happy Christmas. As I was emptying The Catty Catheter day pouch minutes later… It came to me that I forgot to tell her about the seizure & I was worried about it lasting so long. I gave up and didn’t bother again! EQ informed me it will get worse, mate! It did, too! And went into another seizure. Just a few minutes worth. I made silly errors in what I did on the blog while I was semi-conscious. A depression dawned.

I went to the wet room, intent on showering, shaving, and doing the teggies. Then, get the medications sorted. Not a chance! Carer Sam came in. Mind you, it was nice to see her again. She got my diabetic socks on for me. It may only have been for a minute or two of nattering, but it was good and relieved my tensions somewhat. It didn’t last for long but it was nice.

Naturally, after she’d gone, I forgot about my showering. I went contentedly back on the computer.

Peripheral Pete gave me half an hour or so of one-legged dancing, a sort of cross between doing the Oki-Cokey and the Stomp! The two ailments have lasted longer than ever before. I wondered what the third would be.
When the one-legged come dancing was over, I went to make a brew of tea.
I realised I had not thoroughly cleaned up after the food delivery, so I made another waste bag for the chute.

I have started pottering around and have never finished doing endless unrelated jobs. Finally, I’m convinced another visit from Seizure Sandra had got me, of all things, starting to make some pickled mushrooms? I even took photos of the process! However, I had another leg dance when Carer Chris came in and dropped the camera. Chris looked at it and thought it was alright. But when I came to upload the three photos after he’d gone, they were not on the card. The camera was Kaputt! Now, I hit the depths of depression and disbelief!
I snapped this screen to see if Kodak had saved it to the card. Dag-my-Knangles, it did! But look at the fading on the right side? I took another shot, fingers crossed and praying. I took one of the evening views from the kitchenette window. This one seemed alright? I thought I’d take a shot of the ‘Inchie-inspired jar of pickled mushrooms with seasoning and water chestnuts in pickling vinegar. It says on the web to leave it for a minimum of three days to season the mushrooms, but it is best to leave it for a minimum of 5 days before eating. It also said how easy it was to make them. Easy & me, do not go together. At least they should be okay to eat for Christmas. And the photo looked to be alright this time.
I’ve got two cheesy cobs out of the freezer. Here is my plan; Slice and no-butter butter the cobs. Slice some tomatoes with some salt, maybe some beetroots on the side? Slice some red onion to go in the cobs perhaps. Whichever, I’ll turn the TV on to see if anything is worth watching and get the cobs done.

The Liberty-Global-owned Virgin TV was turned on, and for ten seconds, all looked well. Then A screen filled fully with a message telling me that an updated version is now available. Press the Install Now or Do it Later (Or not now) tab. Of course I tried but nothing happened, the screen remained there annoyingly. I tried turning it off several times, and I got the same result each time! Failure!
Eventually, it clicked. The message was not from Virgin; it must have been from the TV makers, Bush, that Liberty-Global engineer (I’m talking loosely here), routed through the Virgin Fibre thingy. There followed a one-hour search for the bush remote control. It was a bit of a miracle that I found it at all.
Then, I pressed the Not Now option. Great!
Then… it came back on every ten minutes! I gave up and nervously pressed the Install button.
I was fed up and turned Del Boy on the TV.
Then, the message came up again.
I clicked install, and a mass of options came up that I didn’t really understand, in the least!
The screen went blank.
I swore, could I take anymore?
To my amazement, the TV came back on.
Now, I will need both remote controls to us it.
I was struggling to get used to one!

Carer Chris will be here soon; no time for me to get the food done before he arrives. I’ll start prepping the nosh. I can wrap it up to keep it fresh for later. I hope Chris doesn’t stay too long… I may have to start eating him. Hahaha! I gave the lad one of the two iced buns with cream. He said he’s taken some photos of facial expressions for me tomorrow morning. So I can use them later on the blog. We’ll see if I remember.

I just realised that I didn’t have the shave & shower!!!

Two cheesy cobs, heavily spread with no-butter butter, and sliced tomatoes slightly salted. Surimi sticks, raw fresh garden peas. A pickled egg and mushrooms. Cooked sweet-chilli beetroots with chopped red onions. Followed by an iced bun with cream!
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Many Good Fortune befall you!
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Inchy: Wednesday 13th November 2024 – Disgusted with Starmer’s abiogenisis!

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He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately,
He steals from pensioners; he’s a gerontophobee!
He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously,
Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously,
Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free,
He comes across as being rather sleazy…
Lies by omission, with great nugacity,
He looks like a land-based manatee,
Lacking in sympathy and humanity,
He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity,
He brings out my hatred and lubricity!
With his fibs by omission and duplicity…
He forecasts that things will go bleakly,
He gives an aura of him being peccantly…
He answers questions in a roundabout way, evasively,
Subject changing, circuitously, obliquely, evasively!
His cabinet pep talks are more like an obsequy!
His compassion is woeful; he hates commonimity,
He can’t hide his conceitedness, ego or vainglory,
He failed to declare £16,200 in gifts from Lord Alli,
Accepted gifts worth £100,000! Verily!
At worst? He stole Winter Fuel cash from Inchie!
Who may not need to go on a diet of xerophagy,
Heat or eat… is a possibility!
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What graphics and photos did the computer, CorelDraw, MS Excel, MS Word, Norton, Ccleaner, Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and Mini-Seizure-Sandra allowed me to save for use on this blog?

In a sort of chronological order.
Close up from the kitchen window, trying to get the trees and bushes to see the changing colours.

Afternoon, I think.

Sunset.

Nosh.

Not sure if I’ve used this one before or not.

Carer Kimberly.

Sorry, short, comp problems again.

TTFN

Itchy Inchy: Monday 14th October 2024

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05:10 hrs: I woke up from a muddled dream. An odd one, all my current problems came barraging into my mind. I think I was laughing at them, knowing they would end when I snuff it. I lay pondering my strange response. 06:00 hrs: I forced myself to evacuate the bed. My balance was all over the place. I carefully removed the nocturnal catheter bag and emptied it. taking a photo for the carer to judge the colour rating later on for me.

By the time I’d done it, Dizzy Dennis, Back-Pain-Brenda and Balance-Buggering-Belinda had joined in with the other ailments. Even more oddly, the finger paper cut bothered me more than anything. Haha!

I snapped a picture of the morning blue sky, and then I turned on the kettle to make a brew of Glengettie tea. Then, I looked in the fridge to see what options were available for nosh later in the day or evening.
Having had the two orders last week, it looked remarkably unfull.
However, the freezer was crammed to the maximum. I seemed to have overestimated the amount of desserts that I needed. I checked the dates using the magnifying glass. There is even more room in there now. Four yoghourts and a pie were out of sell-by date, and I threw them away. Tsk!

Went to wash the half-drank and had gone cold mug of Gengettie tea. And Carer Richard arrived.

The lad still had two leg strappings on and must have been in pain, poor chap. My medications were issued. After a quick natter, he went wearily off on his way home.
I worry about him.

I got the computer on and found this email tracker from Parcel Force. They are delivering the Low-Cost Food store order today. It’s been 10 days since the confirmation email telling me that the store had despatched it. It’s coming from Mansfield. At least with Parcel Force, they deliver to the door. Some others leave it down in the foyer.

Carer Chloe did the midday visit. She was in a rush, but didn’t rush me, bless her.

The computer still does not allow all the graphics and photographs to go on WordPress. Grrr!
MS Excel is making life difficult by not saving the NHS graphic chart, and I have to create a new one each day.
However, these trials and tribulations mean nothing to me. I just laugh at them.
I also tell fibs occasionally!

I thought I was doing well today…
I had an urgent call to the Porcelain Throne 15 minutes or so ago.
I knew it was going to be a Trotsky Terence one, and I had to rush to get things off in time. As I was taking the PPs down, I caught the top catheter tube in the pants.
The inserted tube was tugged at rather heavily and started poor old I could not do much until the evacuation was over; the almost liquid contents only took a few seconds to sprout out. By then, there was blood running down my legs onto the floor, all over the basin, and it took me ages to get me and the mess cleaned up! The floor had to be mopped and disinfected as well. The different Cream, which had a dropper, was much thinner and far less painful to apply. I hope they send this one again in next month’s prescription.

Sorted the mess and got back to the computer.
Looked at the tracker for the Parcel-Force delivery.
He’s running a bit late. He might be having his lunch in a lay-by. He’s getting closer than last time.

I’m going to look at the food situational plans. Ah, I remember now. I plan to have garden peas, battered fish balls, or a battered haddock fillet with instant mash. It’s best if I wait until the delivery arrives. It should only take 25-30 minutes to cook. I’ve put the oven on low heat. I’m getting hungry now.

Hello, I can hear an alarm going off somewhere. I shall go investigate. These new hearing aid batteries are good!
Ah, it was the intercom going. The Low-Cost Food delivery arrived. The driver brought it up to the door for me and unloaded it.

I got fish in the oven, opened shortcake biscuits, and filled the bikkie barrel. Then, I sorted the meal.

It turned out to be a fish supper. And very nice it was too.
Carer called and took the diabetic sacks off of my legs.

I’m well tired now.
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TTFNski, each!

Inchy Today: Friday 19th July 2024: Injuries, Failures & Despair… Just another day!

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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday.
Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today.
However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg).
①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha!
② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem!
I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…

According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.

Off to the wet room Throne.

Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.

Rubbish sorted.

At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.

Carer Maryham arrived.
She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open.
Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.

After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.

An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them.
Humph!
I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions.
Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha!
I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table.
And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks.
Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink!
I’ll not get them again!

I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later.
On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable.
The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her.
Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems.
I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either!
As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call.
It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving.
It went like a dream! Not a single cut!
I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!

What next?
I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was!
The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good!
Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications.
Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me.
So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day!
I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!

I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.

It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life.
The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.

I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal.
Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter.
I enjoyed this.

Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!

Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement.
I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!

The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .

So, ending on a high point, Keep Safe. Cheers!