Inchie Today

Inchie: Tuesday 10th March 2026

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Despite the last five days of mayhem, despair and failures, I lay there in the bed and almost slightly felt hopeful that the day would be a better one. It helped, no doubt, that bothersome Back-Pain-Brenda was AWOL. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was trying to make up for that, as best she could. I removed the nocturnal catcher pouch and stood to do the morning balance exercises and assessments, and the door chime chimed. Good heavens, it was gone 08:00hrs! I did get to bed late, but I still got a decent, not broken often, five hours in.

Ejaz got the medications sorted out, foamed and creamed the toes and ankles, and again, they seemed better than the day before. But not the right leg, that seems to have accrued the oddest-looking batch of new marks, scars, spots and pimples. Almost artistic, really. Hahaha! I think the yellow streaks down the leg were due to my leaving the flash on for Kodak Tim 2. Ejaz told me that the new Carer time will be increased. But I’d forgotten the day he gave me. I’ll check later. As he trotted off, a food delivery arrived. Ejaz took the bags through to the kitchen, then the lad had to fly. Bless him.

I got on the computer to find the meal shot for last night… well, this morning had not been added, so here it is.
Soft cheese on soft white bread, Anya, knobbly potatoes. Imitation fish sticks and some tomatoes. The fries were too hard to eat, but I soon gobbled up the rest of the meal. Nice!

I thought I heard something drop from the kitchen, and went in to investigate. All seemed okay, and I got Kodak Tim-2 again and took some snaps of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I think I made another error with the last one. It came out, as you can see, totally different to the first two. Part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again! I must ask Tim Price about this phenomenon with the last snap.

A while later, I nipped out to take a picture of the end car park on Citrus Way. Did okay with this effort. Caught the sun coming down from Mapperley, high above. No mudslide on the ground this morning.

I phoned Jenny to see if I could take down some of the delivered food and treats. She mentioned that she’s read my blog, noticed that I have a wheelchair I’m not using, and asked if she could give it to a resident in need. No problem, and I got it readied for Frank to collect it later. I took two rubbish bags to the chute. Then I took down the carrier and left it outside her door, with the nibbles inside.

Frank came up to collect the wheelchair, and I showed him what I know about it, brakes for the person in the chair and the pusher, and where they were. I checked that they were all operative, working okay.

Back on the computer, CorelDraw seemed to be behaving itself, but I’m still nervous for later.

Got the day’s Ode completed. Then found a plastic envelope on the hallway carpet. It must have fallen out of the wheelchair as we struggled to get it out of the door earlier. Two stick-on reflectors. I rang Jenny to let her know. She is coming tomorrow to see Ejaz about her old mobile that she is giving me, and to get it set up, bless her cotton socks. 🌸 She said she’d collect them then.

I found a couple of many years-old photos from when I had the stroke.
The first one is at the Nottingham City Hospital, Newell ASU Unit. Where they gave me Cloperdoggerel, and the state you see my legs in was from this. They discovered I was allergic to the drugs in it. Or the Clopidogrel mixture. Sister Jane took the photo during her visit. 
Then to the Oaks Care Home for a couple of months. I took the mass of get-well cards with me, all three of them. The memories of this place linger Today. This is what put me off the idea of going into one at first. A few true tales of events; ine I cannot mention, cause after the knife attack, they deemed it best not to get the police involved.
Mornings: The door would burst open, “Let’s have you up, get a wash and dressed.” Later, a loud thump or two on the door, and sometimes the door opened, and a voice would shout, “BREAKFAST IN TEN MINUTES, don’t be late!”
Weekly: Ah, the laundry, I lost a cardigan, a hat, two T-shirts, four underpants, and ended up with five odd socks. When my scarf was not returned, I bravely mentioned it to the lady who was making a right mess of putting on my leg straps, but got no answer. Then spotted a Carer in the hallway and asked if my scarf had been found. “No!” I thanked her. That night in the dining room, I sat down and saw a resident wearing a scarf similar to the one I had lost. I said nothing. Oh, I nearly forgot: one day I got the laundry back with two odd socks… my hat was missing, and as a bonus of two pink brassieres!
Tea: Thud, door opens: I once had the temerity to ask what it was. “Hot Dog!” I got down to find it was just that. A stale roll with a frankfurter in it. Nothing else, while those around me got chips, ketchup and bread.
Dinner: Thud, clunk. “Dinner in ten minutes, don’t be late.” I got down as fast as I could, but on two occasions, being new, it seemed they thought I was a visitor and got no food at all! (True!)
I made the mistake of trying to talk to the resident in the community room; just once was enough.
I asked him something like, £have you been in here long?” I got fired back at me; “I’m trying to watch the FΧπψϖϒing TV!” I sarcastically gave the staff some treats when I left, overdoing it by saying, “I like to thank you all for the great care given to me!” I waited a few seconds, then gave them all the odd socks I’d got back from the laundry; “If the others ever come back to life, or are found, you can keep these, and match them up!” My intended mockery was wasted. All I got back from any of them, well, one of them was… “Oh! Cheers!” as he opened the box of Roses and handed them around. I just had a sinking feeling… what if they decide I have to go into a home and pick this one?
I’ll be in reet-schnook then!
Then there was this photo of the Geriatric Unit, from last November’s tumble-rumble. They diagnosed me with water on the brain, Hydrocephalus (NPH). Last week, I mentioned it to the nurse and was told I didn’t have that; I’d had a small TBI in the brain. They can do nothing about it. That explains why I’ve been waiting for the trephination operation. At least I won’t need that now, and that’s why no one got in touch. Hehe!
That’s put my mind at rest.

I cracked on with the blog for a couple of hours, guzzling the mineral water like it was an elixir.
When I stood up, I recall at first thinking to myself, well, talking to me as well; ‘Well, your balance is better now, mate! Then the Catheter pouch dropped down, giving Little Inchie a surprising tug! By gum, it had filled up sharpish near the 300ml mark on the bag. I emptied it and disinfected.

I rang Jenny to ask if I could bring the stick-on reflectors to her flat. There was something we spoke about, something else, I think. But the brain is not at its best late in the day. Jenny will be calling tomorrow with the mobile phone and said she’d collect the reflectors then.
I poddled to the kitchenette and snapped a few more reasonable photographicalisations of the wild-looking clouds. They gave me the impression that they were not happy. Wonder if we’ll get a sunset view later?

Ejaz was a little quiet and unresponsive to my natterings. I hope he’s going to be alright, and not worrying about something. He should be better in the morning, when he meets with Jenny, and maybe Frank, too. We need his mobile phone skills. I can’t cope with the one I’ve got, and that has no internet on it. An easy-to-use product for the elderly, it said. Ejaz, Joe, Akram, and Mirzra have all tried to get a ringtone on the phone. And failed, what chance have I? Zilch comes to mind. 

As I went to get the kettle on for the first brew of the day, I just had to take more snaps of the clouds. This first one was as wide as I could get on Koah Tim-2. Then I tried a close-up shot. To me, this is a paralania delight. The sun is doing its best to burst through the gap in the multi-shaded clouds. I saw a creature’s head, a whale shape and a ghost in this like photographicalisation. I’ll keep looking in case it changes again.

I tested the potatoes cooking in the slow cooker…
Trapped my hand in the drawer while getting the spoon. But no problem, it’s still looking good.
It’s only physical pain, I’m good with that – it’s the mental pains of existence that get to me.
Did I just write that? Good stuff  !

I’d forgotten to vlean mt teeth. So off I went to the wet room and used the new soft toothbrush. Ejaz came and went ikn with me. We didn’t half laugh when we looked at the box. It had two brushes in it. They were for children to use. With an old-fashioned sucker on them, to stick it on Porcelain. Hehe!

Boy, the clouds are getting scary in a way.
I think these could be used as a cover for a horror story. Depict the lack of control, mortals have to change the inevitable?
An ever-lurking threat to humanity?
I might use one of them as an Ode leader graphic?
I know, an Ode to the influence cast by 21st century politicians & Oligarchs Today?

I think Today was my best one for months.
The feeling I had when I woke up must have come from my EQ, possibly?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
 

Inchie: Thurs 5th Mar 26 – Busy, Confusing Day

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sorry, but today’s busy planned and unplanned schedule was stored in my reminder notepad, but much of it is unreadable because so many things happened straight after one another. Things may be of of sync chronologically; some may be missing; some I hazarded a smidgen of guesswork to identify. It did not help with the activities of the day ending so late. Meaning I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Friday morning, after the Carers had been, and a one-hour failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. I’ll have to shorten a few of the event details, partly due to my inability to decipher certain words, and the cataracted eye deciding to give me foggy-bother so early in the morning. Plus, if I tried Roget it in its usual humour-traitedness, I would not have time to get it done by Friday or Saturday…
I’m waffling again, sorry about that.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0650hrs: Got the night pouch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning. Jaut one long, unpainful, ‘thought it would never end’ flow of wet mud.
Got the kettle on, then the computer and Carer Dilan arrived. As he sorted the medications, he asked me if we had any more Bosoprolol to hand. I went into the kitchenette to check on the Carer’s Medicine Drawer. Spotted a packet of Beta-Blockers, noticing that it had been opened. As I took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
I was trying to stop Dilan from worrying about the shortage, not that he seemed in the slightest bit bothered. He gave me the morning medications… now, in the past, I have been known not to take them. Ejaz & Mirzra always make sure I have, and have seen me do it.
After Dilan had gone, I saw them in the pot, tipped them out onto the memory pad, and took them. I know I get confused, but something told me there were not as many tablets as usual. That would be toying with me. I do get confused at times, usually after one of my rare, ‘With-it-Moments’. Which I had when noticing the tablet shortage.

I got WordPress opened, ready to start the blog, and Matron (I think) came in, always glad to see her. A few general questions, then she carried out a Memory Test. Read out a name & address. Matron asked me what time it was, and I looked at the computer clock without thinking and told her. A broad smile, followed by a mild ticking of later, she continued. Hahaha!
I can’t remember everything, but counting the months backwards, no, the alphabet, was beyond me. I feel a little ashamed. Or was it numbers backwards? I forget now. And my handwriting in the notes was abysmal; I think I was writing too fast to keep up with the prompts.
Another one I failed on was what month it is, without any doubt, and with complete confidence, I said February. To find out later, when Matron pointed out that I was wrong and had scored highly on the memory test. Which I thought was a good thing, and a grin spread across my face, a smug look about to erupt. But it was the opposite, and not a very good score. I’ll be referred elsewhere for further tests.
Carer Dilan arrived on his second call, and this reminded me about the missing medications, Beta-Blockers. Matron spoke with Dilan about sorting and finding out if they are coming and when. I’ve heard nothing yet.
Several lines of indecipherable rubbish on the page here. Eight of them. Not the foggiest idea, but they were in the Matron’s visiting timeline.
Matron mentioned that I had a little brain injury. I think she said it was a TBI.

But I’m not certain now. I’m sure it was a TBI. I thought the surgeon said they had found water on my brain, NPI, was it CSF? Then again, come to think of it now, CSF, TBI? I could be wrong. I have been known to get things confused lately.
Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

Jenny 🌸💜 appeared with her ingenious collapsible chair and handed me some Hills Shortie biscuits she had bought for me. She was aware that this brand of shortcake bickies was soft enough not to bother . A  sweetheart she is. She’s helped get me noticed by calling Age UK and getting the ball rolling on assessing and determining whether I’m eligible for extra help. She advises me with logical, coherent tips and dos and don’ts. 🎀 Understands exactly how my disabilities affect me. And is the only person to do so, about the seizures. She also offered help when the Carers cannot find time to do the laundry. Bless her Cotton Socks! X
Mind you, Jenny used to work in a hospital.

Then, Jake from the Nottingham City Council,  erm.. er… I’ll look it up on the mobile… Got it!
The Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services. He went through both of my large boxes of files and saved paperwork. It took him ages; all were out of date, of course. It’s not up to date cause the Carer’s stopped storing them for me, not enough time to do them, but I hadn’t realised. He spent ages with me, trying to find proof of various pensions and banking details. He had to call Royal Insurance, which gave him a number for Cooperative Insurance, which the Royal had taken over. So, he rang them, all long-winded and proof of everything needed before progressing. Somehow, he eventually managed to get the details from the Cooperative Insurance. Then rang Royal Insurance back with any details he’d gathered from the Cooperative Insurance. Then needed further proof from my bank, and had to ring them again. Apparently, they are going to send me a written statement by post, and I’m to call Jake at the Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services, send him a photo or copy, and then he can progress with assessing my validation to get help. Haven’t I already told you all this? I hope not.

The day had now gone, and night was falling. My eyes were fading, and my frustrations were raging.

Ejaz and the training Carer arrived, and I can’t recall if anything worth mentioning happened. I was baffled by all that was going on; I think my brain gave up on me. I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
As I fell asleep at the computer, I dreamt of the skies turning to stone. Ice was forming all over the planet, and as the globe began to crack, I woke with a start and hurt my back. The Inner-Voice Spoke to me, in a smarmy, crude manner, saying: “You think yesterday and today were crap? – Hehe,  just you wait until tomorrow!”
I didn’t cry. But I thought about it!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Fair Thee All Well!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie: Sunday 1st March 2026

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Errors, Dark, Dank Depression Darius, Tumbles,  Frustrationes, Mistakes, Embarrassments, Humiliations, Explosion, etc.
Each of the daily emotionally challenging visitors above seems to be an embedded, permanent aspect of Inchie’s daily life. (Well, I say life, life, that may be an extended pretence for his existence & struggles as he continues to survive, wondering what for & why.) Inchie can’t recollect the word he was going to use at this precise moment. Today’s main offenders were:
Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and 
Depression Darius. Much of the day’s events will be missing or brief due to the inordinately long time it took to implement countermeasures after the explosion. I used the word explosion here to catch your attention. Hehe! 
Not to mention the pain caused to Bad-Back-Brenda, Fractured Knee Frank, and a new head injury incurred when sorting out the after-effects of the calamity.
Hope that got you wanting to know more with bated breath? The clean-up operation took me over three hours! With another hour & a half worth of help from the Carer on three of his calls. The entire flat has a sweet, pungent whiff floating about this morning, seventeen hours after the incident was cleaned up.
The volatile liquid covered the whole kitchen floor… more later, in between the usual boring stuff I pen.
Have I whetted your appetite for the story?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A lousy night’s sleep, broken waking, worrying, nodding off, waking, worrying, farting, nodding off, waking, belching, Shaking Shoulder Shirley belting away, nodded off, woken up this time by Twitching Neck Ted, fell asleep…. Enough of that.

Ejaz arrived, medications given, a full-body check, Phorpain gelled, toes and ankles creamed and medicated. Fresh socks put back on. 

Care Mizra called. Pouch checked & emptied. Painkillers and Peptac given. I mentioned the NCC email needing clarification at a council link. He got it up and led me through filling it in. Which was great. Had he not been helping, there were times, if I’d tried to do it on my own, I’d have made errors. Saved the day, got it done. Thanks, Mizra!

Although I didn’t realise it at the time, had I done so, hours and hours of painful, Accifauxpa-inducing cleaning up the mess could have been avoided.
Which verifies my rotten luck, I’m always getting up to investigate noises; was it the tao overflowing, the water alarm, had something fallen over, etc. and always (but not this time, Oh, no! I could spit) check!

NOW, THE HAPPENINGS BEGIN!
As Mizra departed, I thought I heard a noise, similar to when someone doesn’t fully shut the door, and as they opened the foyer door to the lift area, the flat door slammed shut in the draft. It was just like that sound, so I didn’t even give it much thought. I was getting back into doing the Ode for the blog. 
A mistake that cost me so much angst, pain, and took me hours to clean up… As I stood up, about an hour later, to make a brew, I could smell something but not identify it. To the kitchenette door and stopped so suddenly, I dropped the walking stick. All I could see in the kitchen was what I thought was water covering 80% of the floor! A panic came… I started shuddering and shaking, but knew that I needed to turn off the tap, which meant walking into the deep water. So I did. Walking stickless in my haste. One step into the kitchen, I saw that the tap was not running. I looked up at the ceiling for signs of incoming water, but there were none. Then the smell hit me, and I felt giddy. I realised then that it was bleach. I looked at where I’d left the 5-litre container of thick bleach, seeing it on the floor, burst open. I thought casually as I recalled then, ‘Well, that’s me in the shit – Again!’
Damned good job that I had so many rolls of kitchen towels at hand. I threw them into the water as best I could to help soak up the bleach. Then foolishly stepped forward to get the paper to go all the way into the kitchen, and all but slipped over on the thick bleach. I used about five kitchen rolls’ worth of paper and intended to give it a few minutes, then see if it was safe to add more paper. Then realised that my Kagoule and dressing gown had made contact with the bleach! They were rotting away as I looked at them. I strangely thought this could make a horror movie that people would believe, Hehe!
BUT IT GOT WORSE!
I withdrew from the battleground into the wet room, tore off my dressing gown and Khagoule, and placed them in plastic bags for the rubbish chute.
Had a rinse, and got another dressing gown on, as I did, there must have been some bleach dripped onto the floor, which my foot found and Whoopsiedangleplop, down I went, oddly enough, catching and activating my alarm wristlet as I crumpled onto the shower chair. Struggling up onto my feet again, I heard the NCC monitor controller speaking. Went to the room and said I just had a tumble setting the alarm off at the same time. But, no. I explained about the bleach, and she asked ARE YOU INJURED – No! “We can do nothing about your water. Wait until a Carer comes. When is one due?” About 2-hours. If it is a leak, call our maintenance or repairs.
Thank you, kindly, [Tut], I rang off.
Back to the kitchen and spread some more paper towels to help soak up some of the bleach, left it for a few minutes, then went back to gather what I could into waste bags.
Have another go with fresh towelling, and then I began the slow, painful job of mopping and rinsing out the mop often. This involved rinsing the mop in the sink with cold water, then using the wetroom tap to part-fill the bucket for another pass over the floor. Naturally, the bucket needed to be rinsed after each use. Using a small jug to get the water from the sink to the bucket. The smell got to me again, and I kept feeling a bit giddy. I did this six times in all. I had opened the windows. This snap on the right was how it looked on the fifth attempt. I was in a lot of pain by then. Back, shoulder and a new bruise on my head. As I collected the last of what I could, I had to leave the areas between the cupboards, the stove, and the fridge; it was just too painful to get down that far. I filled three more big bags with the bleached, covered towels, bringing the current total of eight bags taken to the refuse chute. I pressed on with mopping the kitchen, but that bleach wouldn’t come out at all, without a fight.

On the bright side, it cleaned up my fingernails nicely. Even if it did ruin my new dressing gown, slippers and Khagoule, all waste-shutting with a few words RIP style proffered as I sent them 12 stories down in the chute, to the big bins below.
I only bought you both a month ago,
It’s so sad to see you have to go,
Hope it doesn’t hurt you, though,
When you land twelve floors below!

Carer Ejaz finally arrived, and I told him of how my blog-writing time had been further deprived. Showed him these photos and told him of what I’d been through, the time lost, the pain, and the frustration. Yet, amazingly, nae astoundingly, nae, mind-bogglingly, a miracle… had not dawned or visited me, yet! Yes, I was angry, a smidgeon sorry for myself, maybe. There was certainly an inkling of self-sympathy lurking in my mind.
But when the air had cleared, the blood had bled, the pains subsided, and Ejaz stuck into helping, and the kitchen was beginning to look clearer and safer, I had a short, curt visit from,

When I sat down after Ejaz had departed, I anticipated falling into the wonderfully welcoming arms of Sweet Morpheus. But, No! Fractured Knee Frank, Back-Ache Brenda, & Shuddering -Shoulder Shirley, kicked off at the same time. It was like someone turning a pain switch on, instant agony. I thought it was bad enough while doing the bending, but now it is worse than ever, as Victor Meldrew’s catch phrase went. I Do Not Believe It! When Ejaz returned for his last call, he had planned to tidy the kitchen, but didn’t. Why?
He recognised the state I was in purely pain-wise.
Ejaz took a snap of the little bruise on my head for his records at ICC. Then he made some instant mash, cheese with ketchup and sausage for my meal. Not wanting me to get up from 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. He even suggested I don’t move into the bed, rather stay where I am, the effort of climbing into bed he feared would set off the other ailments.
Also snapped shots of the view from the kitchen window for me, since he knows I like to take them for the blog. The Carers have been a treasure for me today. And how, why, did Deep Dark Depression Darius stay away? He did get one fleeting visit in, but was it worth his efforts? I think not. But I pray tomorrow that he keeps away.
Perhaps I was so busy, and in so much pain, he didn’t feel the need to get at me as much? Nae!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie: Sunday 15th Febvruary 2026

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
OVERNIGHT Zzz Mark 1
I flaked out almost instantly. No seizures, Arthur Itis, no Shaking-Neck-Nigel or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley disturbed my marathon sleep-in, or woke me up.
Well, it was that way for about 9 hours of unknown bliss. Until Carer Ejaz arrived. I heard him sounding the intercom, but just could not get up to admit him. He appeared next to me a few minutes later, declaring that I looked awful. He tended to my needs while I stayed reposed, bless him. Can’t recall much else.
Other than that, I think I fell back into the land of nod within seconds of him leaving.

Zzzz Mark Two
Another kip without interruption. For about 5 hours, making the current total 14 hours!
Until Carer Mizra arrived, got me out of my slumber, and started changing the day Catheter bag; a new one was put on the other leg. Painful.
When Mizra departed, I got back down again.

Zzzz Mark Three
After taking these two, I drifted off to sleep for four hours. Total amassed overnight and this morning, making a total of 18 hours in the Land-of-Nod.

Afternoon rain

A SOFT MEAL
The smoked sausages proved too
much for .
But the cheesy baked potatoes
were lovely, and eatable.

I took two photographs of the pretty-looking night sky. Then doctored them into one on CorelDraw.
Pleased for once with the result.


A few mild depressions here and there, and semi-highs with the meal and the photograph doctoring.
Pleased to get all that sleep in, but sad it’s getting me even further behind on the things not done.

Before getting my head down after washing the meal things, I gave each of the broken, cracked, chipped, loose and painful teggies a squirt of the toothache spray. Then I had a thought.
I do this now and then. Was it the toothache spray that was making me so tired and incapable of getting up? And not as I had assumed, the new Ezetimibe tablets? Mmm?

Inchie gets so easily confused,
Nae, mayhap, maybe bemused?
With incapabilities he is afflicted,
His sanity can’t be authenticated,
He’s given up trying to get adopted,
His rotting teeth get him awhaped,
Too old to get body & mind annealed,
He once played the jigger-jigger field,
Now no longer attempted,
As he waits to get aureoled…

Cheers!

Inchie Today: Wednesday 31 December 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Cutting up potatoes, I found a wriggler…
A maggot, but used wriggler; it sounded funnier,
Just two cuts, to the same finger…
Using on each a waterproof plaster,
While the sauce got burnt to a cinder,
To give the potatoes a bit more flavour,
I added tandoori, lemon & coriander,
And the recommended garam masala,
Stood-up, how I didn’t fall’s a puzzler…
I went into a dissociative seizure,
Compared to the norm, this was longer,
Spuds were rock hard, my language vulgar,
Got potato waffles from the refrigerator,
I picked up long picker-upper, Peter,
To retrieve the spoon dropped earlier,
Knocking over a bottle of malted vinegar,
After mopping it up, the floor was cleaner,
Finally, I was ready to serve up dinner,
My waffles, burnt and withered,
Everything on the tray was assembled,
Carefully, into the front I hobbled…
My ingrowing toenail was stubbed!
Spilt food, carpet to be scrubbed,
Meal binned, pots washed…
So, my food plans were altered,
To bags of crisps, ready-salted…
Salt & vinegar, and barbequed,
New Year views to be photo’d,
Things didn’t go as anticipated!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Afternoon Delight.

A little later…

Sunset, Gorgeous!
Zoomed in a bit…
And another…
Then right out.

The third attempt produced this
edible meal. At last! Hehe!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

TTFNski!

Sweet Dreams!

Inchie: Thursday 25th December 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – 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?
=============================
TTFN
=============================

Inchie: Thursday 4th December 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0515hrs: I burst into life, bounded of off the bed and did a double somersault, catching the night bag as I landed on the floor and did fifty swift press-ups. Then ran yodelling away into the wet room and removed the night pouch. A bit of shadow boxing then…
Well, alright then...
0515hrs: I woke up in 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 had to force myself t stay awake long enough to get up and fight against Dizzy Dennis and Lost-Balance-Belinda, as I painfully got the nocturnal bag freed and emptied. I was not in good condition, mentally of physically, this morning. Confusion Konrad had a grip on me. However, despite these things, I started the day and within 10 minutes of using the Porcelain Throne, guess who visited me? Yes, it was good old, much missed, and very welcome !
Trotsky Terence was in charge of the evacuation. Messy, very messy!

Four-Wheeled-Walker-Wally was still in there, from my returning from the opticians. I made a mental note to empty the pod, collapse Wally, and move it back into the balcony later. It was a big job for me, and it’s complicated because I have to move things around to make space to get to the balcony. (I didn’t)

Off to get the kettle on for a brew of Typhoo. I took a snap from the kitchen. Is that the moon or a light at the back? I’ll try to get another tomorrow.

The Carer Who calls me “Bapu” arrived. She pointed out that the Warfarin Dosage note was still not there. We had another quick search, but others and I had already made them for the sheets without finding them. I said I’d ring the Warfarin-DVT Clinic later to confirm the dosages. No problem in the morning, cause Warfarin is taken at teatime or in the evening. Nice that my   “Baby-Princess” Carer had recognised it was missing. Medications were given, and she applied Phorpain gel to my knees. Oh, and my lower back.

I decided not to start the blog yet. I searched my Excel Medical file to get telephone numbers for my Doctors and the QMC Warfarin Anticoagulation-DVT Clinic. But the DVT number was not in the file. So I Googled to find it and added it to the Excel file, ready for when I can call. Then found that the number given was the same as the one for the QMC switchboard, so I amended the ones I’d put in the file.
I felt sneaking up on me. This, I assumed, was because I’d done, well, I thought I had done a decent job in getting the contact number… but still double-checked the numbers, just in case Arithmophobia Arron had made me get it wrong.

I tried the Doctor’s surgery first. This first call was answered by a Robot-AI. Telling me I was being transferred to “Our Customer Navigator. Beep-beep. Then I was connected to another Robot-AI. Telling me I had to pick a number to press; Press 1: If you are bleeding heavily or have chest pains, ring off and dial 999. Press 2: If your call is about prescriptions. Press Three; I couldn’t make out what the AI said on this one. But as I needed to know my current Warfarin doses, surely linked to prescriptions? I pressed 2 and got through to a third Robot-AI. “We do not accept prescription requests by telephone, Email, and started to tell me the most convoluted email address I’ve ever heard. Obviously, I could not keep up with what the electroid was blurting out at a rapid pace – so I rang off, pissed-off!
I think it would be easier to get through to MI5 & MI6 than to get to my Doctor!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I tried ringing 111 to see if they could advise me on how to avoid being ignored, and maybe even who and how to contact for my Warfarin dosages. Or, not.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A Robot-AI kicked in. Apparently, I was 23rd in the queue.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Then I rang the Queen’s Medical Centre Switchboard. Well, I was going to, when a Carer arrived. I told him of my difficulties, and we both had another search for the Warfarin-DVT Anticoagulation doses sheet. He couldn’t spend too long, but he did his best for me. A total failure, of course, par for the course. Only a ten-minute call at midday. I also mentioned all the photographs that I’d lost from yesterday’s visit to the opticians. Crying in front of the Carer was not an option, even though I felt like doing so. Hahaha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Back to phoning the QMC switchboard.
The phone was answered almost straight away. For the first time, I was greeted by a human. Not a Robot-AI. I asked to be put through to the DVT Warfarin Anticoagulation Department, and within seconds, the call was transferred. Was my luck changing? No! It was getting worse, and it was answered by a Robot-AI! The electronic-faux-human rattled on, telling me the times they are open. I estimate exactly what he said, as best as I can. It may contain errors, or hopefully not. We are open on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays between 1100hrs & 1600hrs; and open on Fridays from 1100hrs to 1500hrs. We are closed on Thursdays and weekends. You can contact your Doctor by phone or email, or 111 at any time… Hahaha! Just what I’d failed to do! You couldn’t make this rubbish up as fiction. No one would believe it. Farcicalness & the NHS go together like cheese & onion nowadays.
It’s the young ones I fear for, well, not the Oligarchs or Eton attending youngsters. More of the proletariat ones. The NHS is not fit for purpose.
Unfortunately, the only party I see that wants to cure the faults in the NHS is the ‘Your Party’. But they cannot win an election because they don’t have enough candidates to stand for Parliament.
A sad state of affairs, politically.

Today was a feast of embarrassment, frustration and confusion. All normal here then!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The end is nigh. No need to say why!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchie. Mon/Tue/Wed 24/25/26th Nov 25

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I had a theme for my Ode to relate,
My body needs my brain to cooperate,
It talks to itself – rubbish, bletherskate,
My dream? In a cave, the walls began to corruscate,
I was with someone, a Carer, lover and old mate?
As he/she started on me, to lambaste & berate…
Its body faded, it began to loudly cachinate…  
Folks from my past appeared, as a conglomerate,
Hands in hands, they issued me looks of hate,
Then howled out loud, they did not abate…
I cooked roast potatoes, one on each plate,
I wanted to talk, welcome them, hospitate…
The howling temporarily stopped, as they ate,
Telling me I was a terrible ingrate?
Dark Dank Depressing Darius began to inumbrate,
The cave grew cold, and I began to sudate,
Saying out loud, “What the Hell’s going on, mate?”
Dead relatives came, their intentions vulnerate,
They came towards me, starting to ululate,
I tried to stroke, touch them, to vellicate…
I think they may have escaped via St Peter’s gate,
Their bodies began to rapidly deteriorate…
They started to dissolve, one by one, demoniacal! 
Is this real, happening, or maybe notional?
One went ashen, pasty, anaemic, demonical…
One shrank to nothing, all absorbable,
One cursed & swore at me, all abuseable!
Then exploded. Like a bursting bubble,
One blew me a kiss and said I was adorable.
I tried to hug her, but she was not touchable…
A ghostess, how can she be damageable?
She burst into flames, so she was destructible,
One turned to glass,  she was vitrifiable…
Then found out she was also smashable,
An eerie hum all around started to bominate,
Then the nightmare… morningmare did vacate…
07:00hrs, by gum, I did sleep in late,
Fell off the bed, what’s next to tribulate?
The dream ending might compensate.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
But and however…
This blog was not started until Thursday evening. Wednesday & Thursday were not good for me, but Monday was not too bad at all.
Tuesday was troubled with many mini-seizures, each one with not good after-effects, which took a lot out of me, I’m afraid. Concentration was just not there, many accifauxpas, and
Dawned that regularly, each one seemed deeper than it really was. Tuesday is best forgotten anyway, so the lack of photos or memories of what happened explains the lack of detail in the scrawny Tuesday section. 
Wednesday’s cock-ups ensured me that , bless him, he was again a frequent visitor. Many things will be out of sync and order, sorry. Last night’s lack of sleep, due to
And his ranting, perpetual criticisms of yours truly, made any proper sleep an impossibility. At least the seizures, only two, were lengthy. I judge from the ease and the incredibly short time it took me to recover each time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I gave up trying to sleep. Assuming it was about 04:00hrs, but soon found out, after taking of the night bag and going to the wet room to tackle the morning ablutionalisationings… as Carer Manpreet came in it to the flat, that it was actually gone 07:00hrs! WE got the Health Checks done & recorded, and the medications were issued.

Calendar changed, tea brewed.

Morrison order.
Moved them into the kitchen.
Treats!
Favourites.
Fridge loaded.

Afternoon seizures.

Evening shot.


Memory, Jet Black Blank
Seizures were having a heyday.

Morning shot, I think.

Evening shot, I think.

Just a guess at this rating.

Another stormy night’s sleep. If it wasn’t for my taking a bashing from , I may well have still been in bed when the Carer came again.
I decided to force my reluctant body from the bed, primarily, to get a painkiller, to counter the pain from Shirley’s worst-ever night-attack. 
I didn’t make it. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it wasn’t long. I could tell after it was all over by the acid reflux coming up in my chest, throat, mouth, and nose, and it was taking so long for me to recover fully. Although, to be honest, I don’t think I did get back to normal, if anything about me can be called normal, (Hehe!) Until 17:00hrs, or so.
My plan, formulated this morning, was to get things ready for when Ejaz arrives, go with me to the opticians, and then do as much as I could in the time left, working on the replacement word list.

Carer Manpreet arrived, and she checked that the HC return figures had been recorded correctly. Medications were given. A gaping blank spot in my memory. I assume I’d had a seizure, but Manpreet didn’t tell me… or I didn’t hear or remember her saying. The state I was in after each one today is no surprise. I got on with the word listings for an hour or two. To my utter amazement, an Asda delivery arrived. What? Another food delivery? Beats and worried me.
Cheesey cobs. cheesey wriggles, and some iced bread rolls. I tried to gain access to my vacant memory void, to work out when and why.
Come to think of it, I may have got the delivery days wrong, sort of back to way, on the wrong days. They may have been the other way around. Or, not.
Topped up with waters of various types. It’s costly having to keep swigging a minimum of three litres every day to keep the bladder working.
Meat pies with shortcrust and puff pastry tops. Polish cooked smoked ham, Nurses drinkies, and some bacon bits, erm… lardons they are called.
Blimus, I’ve got the fridge and freezer crammed full again. But of course, the social lady promised me help with this problem. Also, with the finances, when I get home from the hospital. Assured me of help with the ‘spent a fortune’ on wheelchairs… getting them appropriately fitted and safe to use. 
Age Concern said… Oh, forget them. I’ve not heard anything from any of them! I’m disappointed and feeling a smidge uncared about, to say the least.

Carer Mizra, then Carer Ejaz, arrived. Mizra departed after medicating me and seeing that things were alright. Ejaz and I got down to the Opticians only to find that we had arrived too late and they could not test my eyes. Ejaz dealt with the receptionist, and they made another appointment for next Wednesday. How we got the wrong time beats me. Ejaz has always taken care of them for me. Sadly, my eyes are getting worse, and later I checked on the HHS site – bad news. It said that if you do not catch it in time, it cannot be repaired. Great! Now it will be another week before the test, and the optician can refer me to the EENT! 
The eye is getting worse each day, and I’m struggling at times. Nothing new there then.
Ejaz and I returned to the flat, and he put the laundry in the washer. Mopped the kitchen for me, and went to get the laundry into the dryer, and realised it had not finished washing. So left it until his subsequent call to collect it for me. Off he went; he’d done the best he could on my behalf.

I pressed on with the word listings, and Ejaz returned to fetch the laundry for me, and he hung it up on hangers. Night medications given.

I started making a template up for this 3-day blog… and realised it was gone 23:00hrs! 

Better get something to eat.

🤎 TTFNski! 🤎

Inchie Today: Sunday 23nd November 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
May peace appear and adhere,
Today and for your future,
Ailments wane, for even longer…
Joy to each peacekeeper & peace lover,
Help from an evil-abrocator?
May humankind find benignity?
Can we all live again, less bleak & darker?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

03:30hrs: I bounded out of the hospital bed and somersaulted over the recliner, hit the deck and did a nifty 200 press-ups, followed by another 200 toe-touches. Nipped onto the snow and ice-covered balcony, and did fifteen minutes of shadow boxing. Opened a window and yodelled a good morning to all the wonderful people nearby. Then, I hopscotched to the wet room. Taking off my night cather pouch as I  hopped along. Well… that may be a bit of a slight exaggeration? Hahaha! Here’s the reality. 05:30hrs, I reluctantly stirred and tried to will and urge the clock to go backwards. It didn’t work, of course. So, I moved to the edge of the bed and freed the nocturnal catheter from the day bag. Dizzy Dennis was prompted into action as I had to bend down. Although I did not do the balance exercises, as I made my way into the kitchen to check if I’d left taps on, cookers on or fridge doors open, I was coping well, with very few wobbles from the catheters either.
All being in order in the kitchen, I visited the Porcelan Throne. I was a few inches off getting seated on the toilet lid, and a torrent of Trotsky Terence proportions fell, no, squirted, no, thundered into the porcelain, with a splash, and it was all finished! It honestly looked as if I’d decorated the bowl with brown emulsion eggshell paint. And had applied multiple coats too! Tsk!

I finally got out of the wetroom after an awful lot of cleaning up was carried out, Haha! Then I took these shots of the view, such as it was, from the kitchen.
Not very good, I’m afraid. I’ve been struggling lately to take any worthwhile morning shots. I could hear the police helicopter flying, but not see it.

I made a brew of tea and got the morning HC checks done next. Then had a think about how I could work things out, to get a shower with my ablutions.
I decided to get the straps off of the legs and ask Ejaz to take the socks off for me. Ejaz arrived at this point. As I chose not to have a shower after all. (Why, I can’t really recall at this moment) Ejaz got the socks off, then helped wash and dry my feet. Bless him. Issued the medications. No point in any creaming, foaming, or body checks until after I’d finished my ablutions.
He did a quick hoover around, bless him again.

I took this shot from the kitchenette window as the morning brightened up a little. But the rain started to come down. Another bad photo. I managed to capture, top left, a patch of turquoise sky that was not visible to the naked eye when I snapped it.

Back into the wetroom, and started the overdue body, teggie, cleaning. Before shaving, I felt the blood coming from . I got things cleaned up, dried and ointmentated various areas of my magnificent, noned, staut, healthy body, where it was required.
There were quite a few in need, but things like the Cartilages, Atkritis, Fractured-Knee-Frankie, Lymphorrea Leslie and Ingrowing Toenail Terry were unreachable. Well, I could have reached them, I suppose, but the pain and or dizziness I get bending made me shy away from even trying to medicate them. Chicken!
Getting the PPs on went amazingly well today! In fact, it was the easiest ever. 
And… Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion did not bleed! 
Not only that, I’m not kidding… but I had no cuts shaving, and did not walk into any door or wall, all day long!

As I hung the towel to dry on the clothes airer in the hallway, I came as close to tripping over the electric cable without falling as I ever had; it was a miracle. This actually brought on my old, much-missed saviour and friend .
I pushed myself on the wall to prevent getting tangled in the heater and wire, and I hit the back of the other wall, which was where I’d left the walking stick, a bit of good luck there! I grabbed it and used the other wall to regain my balance. A definite and wonderful welcome !

Then, the Khagoule needed handwashing, quickly, before the hot water tank refilled and while it was still hot enough. Isn’t life awkward at times? Haha!

I got the dressing gown washed, and got soaked while wringing the Khagoule out after washing it, but it didn’t bother me, for was with me. Which meant I didn’t give a damn about me getting wet, and the kitchen floor would need cleaning or mopping!
Puft! Sod ’em all & everything! I hung up the shirt in the wet room to dry.

However, while mopping the floor, I slipped a little and twisted , but it wasn’t the pain it caused. I think it was the disappointment of me having a little run of good luck, for about 15 minutes, then things falling back into my usual feeling of defeatism. Self-pity and self-lambasting started!
. I felt so hard done by for some reason. Life is like this for me every single day, so why should it get to me so much more on this occasion? I think I just explained that?

I got on with the blogging at long last, and Carer Mizra arrived. A grand lad. He had to rush, but still got the socks and straps back on the legs for me and kept within his time quota. Thanks to Ejaz, Misra & Ahram for their understanding today.

The rain, although heavy at times, was start-stop at the same time. Does that make sense? I nipped into the balcony to take a snap of the end car park.

Later, I took snaps of the view from the kitchen again, hoping to get a decent one for once. The first one, to the left, was not too bad.
The second one was taken to the right of the window.
Not too good again.
I was determined to get a reasonably decent snap for the third one, Hahaha!
Oh, Flipping ‘eck!
I might give up trying to take night shops in the future… shops? Now I can’t even type right, or take might photos!

Carer Ahram arrived, and he issued the medications. Emptied the catheter jug for me. He checked that the last HC figures were recorded correctly. Thanks, mate.
Blogging, time to start the Ode, methinks.

Sunday morning catch-up.

Something people don’t eat often nowadays. Faggots in gravy with mashed potatoes. A ready-made microwave meal from Parsley Box. I made extra pork gravy, added it to the mix, and dunked two large cheesy-topped bread rolls in it. Do folks do this now? Well, I love them. Especially the faggots, they taste good to me, and no bother about what few rotting, hurting teeth I have left.
An old-fashioned meal?
Well, yes, but so am I. Hehehe!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I.C.C. Carers’ Manpreet, Mizra, Abdul, and the last one, whose name I forgot to ask. Ejaz did not make any calls again today. Shame!

==================================
🤎 MAY PEACE & JOY INVADE YOU 🤎
==================================

Inchie Today: Wednesday 15th October 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’d like my annihilation of Starmer to be true,
Absolute, painful, embarrassing & thorough,
I’ll not use a gun, a knife or thumbscrew…
But when he crumbles, this is long overdue
His actions reveal he’s a true-blue,
A Barrister seeking power, a well-to-do,
His defeat or death would be my Xanadu,
No details, this Ode is but an aperçu,
He’s more an oligarch, with no affettuoso,
We cannot rid ourselves of him impromptu,
We know how to work out what we need to do,
But I’ll do my best for you, toodeloo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Good Morning, Afternoon or Evening

I am not placing any… well, just a few photos below, to see if this stops them disappearing when folks view the blog. Had a lot of them recently. Grrr! And I haven’t the foggiest idea why.

It was even harder to force myself out of bed this morning than it was yesterday. Summat wrong here. I’ve always been a morning sort of bloke.
I woke around 04:00hrs. And thought I’ll beat this unknown morning drowsiness, and get up now. My determination was strong & decisive. ZZZ!
Then I woke again at 06:30hrs. I whipped back the quilt and checked the night catheter bag. ZZZ!
Another waking at 0645hrs. I forced myself through sheer determination to rise: Okay, the truth is I felt the rear trap-door gurgling and a lot of wind escaping. That was enough; the fear of another not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time encouraged me. I was still sitting there, awaiting the torrent to stop as the door chime rang, and Ejaz came in. He shouted out, ‘Are you alright, Gerry?’ Just be a minute, I replied. But of course, with all the cleaning up of the spurted mess, it took me much longer. 
Ejaz carried out a body check and applied barrier cream to three areas (back, groin and belly). Foamed the lower part of my left leg, which was getting a little worse, with crocodile red skin patches. Then he Phorpained the left knee all the way around to help with the knee fractures, Arthur Itis, and Catheter Chloe. He colour-rated the urine and emptied the pouch for me. Medications were issued, and Peptac was taken. He then sprayed the eyes with Blether cream and the dry eyes spray. For the last task, he did the Health Checks with me and ensured that they were appropriately recorded on the graph. Both of today’s BP readings were on a HIGH level. Which was acceptable to me cause they followed a HYPER & HIGHER ones from Monday & Tuesday.

Inevitably, when I got on the computer, Ape-Shit describes the events. It would not let me open Google from the icon, or from the Control thingy. 
Total frustration!
I closed down CorelDraw and gave up.

I was at the end of my tether. Every day this happens. The battle to do the graphics, an Ode, and the HC chart is getting overwhelming, not to mention tackling the rest of the blog.
For a few minutes, I was lost in hatred of my accursed, lousy luck and the impossibility of getting any help. Boy, was I feeling down and out.
Can’t remember ever being this depressed.
Then, I just wandered into the kitchen, not really knowing why, and took some snaps of the view.

Straight ahead…
Then slightly to the left.

I think that maybe I’d resigned myself to the situation without realising it.

I won’t lose any memory or time in putting any of the others on. Bear in mind how low I was.

I returned to the computer after a good while, almost thoughtlessly looking out of the kitchen window, fearing the worst with the damned computer. I think I tried to tell myself that I knew this would happen eventually – no computer, no blog, no email, no ordering food (but that bit was great!).
Could I live without it?

I reluctantly got back to the desk, convinced this was the end, the finish, the death of the computer… Now, had it been Starmer who died, I could live with and possibly celebrate that. Hehehe!

A partial saving grace was when I got the computer back on. Fair enough, Google would still not open, but I tried opening Firefox, and it did! Of course, I could not get to or remember all the Google-saved passwords. So, still could not get into WordPress.
I got on Google from the icon, but it wanted passwords, verification, etc..

A strange inspiration came over me, and I told the computer my problem, asking what I could do to correct it. Unfortunately, I’m not a Computer specialist, a computer technician, a computer software or hardware engineer, a computer scientist, or a computer guru. I think that the collection, as mentioned earlier, might have understood what the advice meant for me and how to implement it collectively. A few of the eighty tips from the site’s advice I was brave enough to try.
But only the ones where I knew I could cancel or remove after they failed. And they did. Not only that, but I was getting more het-up again.
Three hours later, I was again at the point of giving up. Ejaz did a quick call but didn’t understand what I was telling him, and I couldn’t figure out what else I could try. Thanked Ejaz and off he went.
I seem to recall that the last gasp chance would be to close everything, give it a few minutes, and restart, as I did yesterday to get CorelDraw’s problems sorted. This would be about 13:40hrs.

I had no idea it had taken place, but it was confirmed when I came back to reality, with the acidic, horrible-tasting, and smelly gust of wind that came up into my mouth. I thought I had had a mini-seizure; they are the ones that usually have the acid after them. But the after effects were scary this time. I could not get up for a good few minutes. It felt like the room and I were swaying in different directions. I made sure I stayed where I was in the chair. I did not risk standing or walking until things had cleared in my head. Which took ages. While waiting, I made sure I hadn’t been on the computer and caused a mess of anything. I realised I must have been out of it for over an hour. The door chimed, and in walked my ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She had only called to do a Lifeline wristlet check with the NCC controller, which she did first thing. I must have looked and sounded a little odd after the Seizure.
I told her briefly of events and problems I was having.
She asked if I was ready to go into a home yet. I replied, I think it’s inevitable. Because I’m struggling to get help, doing everyday tasks is getting harder and longer. I told her of the farce of ending up with two chairs, but can’t afford a Carer to take me out. And can’t get help with making the self-propelled one safe to use. I can’t get help with the dwindling finances.
Bless her, she looked at a wheelchair for me.
I mentioned that while she was trying to work out how to get footplates on. When I was in the hospital, a social worker said they would see if they could get me help with my finances. A Red Cross person said they would know if they could provide some help. The team included a physiotherapist, an occupational therapist, a representative of Age UK, and a member of the Falls Team. But no one has contacted me. And mentioned the problem with trying to arrange lifts to hospital appointments. Deana (What an Angel) asked for the appointment letters for next Wednesday with the orthopaedic surgeon. Deana rang them there and then. She arranged for a lift each way. This temporarily helped my lack of faith and prompted a visit. 🌺 THANK YOU DEANA 🌺

NOSH
I ate well, at least. (Slurp-gobble)