Inchy Today

Inchy Today: Saturday 5th July 2025

/ Inchie / 18 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
STARMER
Starmer, the PM, is famous for his lies!
A man I could never ever heroise,
HMG? disloyalties, treacheries, perfidies…
Dishonesty, profligacy, untrustworthy,
Labour Party values adulterer.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Got to catch up, so a quickie today

Carers, Mizra & Ejaz today.
Three visits today to theall of a similar nature.

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

Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I  , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I  caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that  my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all. 
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time! 
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
pillockI soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

.
.
.
.

.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

 

 

 

Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd July 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It’s amazing what you think of in the shower,
In a bath, or on the Porcelain Throne,
Cutting tomatoes three times, I’ve stabbed Starmer,
Once, sat on the WC naturally all on my own,
Doing a crossword, trying to find an answer,
Got a Dizzy, & I fell off, and broke my anklebone,
In the ambulance, I remembered Asda…
When they substituted cough drops with a dog bone,
That must have been about 1998 in November,
I’d have complained, but didn’t have the backbone,
The funny things I recollect and remember,
Last month, I burnt my dressing gown,
Fishing, I’d puff my pipe of Erinmore mixture,
That could be why I never won a match fixture,
And today, up to now, I have not suffered a seizure,
In 1980, I bought my Nokia 100 mobile phone,
Got a new one, too complicated, like a megillah… 
So, I went back to Nokia,
When I clocked for the micropsia,
I went and bought another,
I can’t recall its nomenclature,
It might have been Motorola,
I was no necromancer…
But I was an obtruder,
Changing the SIM, I cut my finger,
It bled on the Nokia, no, the Motorola,
A whiff of smoke, I’d left it in the charger,
Yet again, I went back to the Nokia,
I still use it, though we’re both much older,
I can’t see it, and I’m much deafer,
I’m tired and hungry; I’ll have a cob with tomato!
I’m losing the plot again, but no problemo…
Tomorrow, I may muse over crocodiles in the Orinoco.

I am sick and tired of listening to myself moan as things continue to keep going wrong.
Now (Wednesday), I could face a farcical first-time calling Carer for the three-hour visit I pay for. This is supposedly for them to have time to do the laundry, check the banking figures, advise me on mail received, and occasionally have time to mop a floor or clean the oven for me. Carer Joe used to get all these jobs done for me, and I didn’t need to worry.
Carer Ejaz, who has substituted for Joe twice, when I became more confused answering his questions about where things were and what to do. 
I assumed Ejaz would be replacing Joe. But, No! I got a telephone call this morning from ICC (the Carer company). They are sending someone I’ve never heard of. Mind you, the phone line had terrible reception. (I wish they’d use the landline.) Either Jackie or Johnny will be coming this afternoon. It’s possible that whoever it is has been there before, and I’ve forgotten the name, of course. However, they will not be aware of my needs, and some of them will even take control and do as they please, ignoring me as if I weren’t there. But how can I deal with the blog, the possibility of the Oligarch Meter installers working, and then Nurse Hristina 🤎 taking the blood samples? Possibly Matron Jackie calling, and or the Catheter Changing Community nurses and the Neurologist who failed to call yesterday might get through. All this, and I have to stay aware of what’s going on around me. What needs to be done hasn’t been done, or has been missed altogether. However, my EQ just gave me good-jibes about whoever comes to do the extended Wednesday visit, positive.

Let’s face it, I can lose track just talking with myself!
The slightest happening, such as a phone call, the doorbell ringing, or going to the toilet, is each alone sufficient for whatever I was doing, going to do, or needed to do to be instantly discarded from my previous diabetic dementia, but has now been changed. Having been recently reclassified as Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment.
So what chance will I stand if those who didn’t come yesterday might call today, along with a strange Carer (I think), who needs to learn from me (Hehehe!) all the needs of the extended Wednesday visit?
Even if none of them call (Although J called to return the hand washing today, bless her 🌺).

Just a few photos, I’ll add further details of the Carers’ visit later on… I hope it goes well, but it doesn’t bode well for the future if it does not!

No shave. Two visits to the Porcelain Throne, both needing a good clean-up after the evacuation was completed.

The pins and plates were in better shape today!
I received a phone call on the landline. Oh, more joy, it was from my DVT Nurse, Hristina.
To advise me that she would be calling to take blood for the Warfarin INR test in the morning, between 10:00 and 12:00 hours. Lovely!🤎

I went onto the balcony to take a shot of the view.
Took this one of the old dilapidated three-wheeled walker, and forgot to take the view shot. Tsk!

I created the daily Ode eventually.

Care Ejaz arrived. 

Call from ICC Carers. A Jackie or Jody will be doing the extended visit today.

I started this actual blog. Made a brew.

The long-visit Carer arrived. Nice gal, her name was Josie. I took my Kaftan off, put it in the laundry bag, and Carer Josie took it down with the laundry for me. On her return to the flat, she got the kitchen floor mopped for me. Did a good job. Then she checked through the food for out-of-date products. And wiped the inside of the fridge after.
Cheese, lemon juice, jellies, food colouring, yoghourt and a few other food items were put in the rubbish.

Josie helped me search for another elderly person’s mobile phone, but we couldn’t find one that charges from an electrical outlet. Not from a computer. 

Josie went down to collect the dried clothes, returned and hung them up for me.
Time for her to go, a lovely gal. I asked if she would be doing the Wednesday visits each week. A shame that she didn’t know or not. I hope so!

I chopped up an orange tiger-tomato and some red onion and added it to the stew to be cooked in the microwave later.
Put the dish back in the fridge.

Then back on doing this blog.

I tried another search for a suitable mobile phone and found one for the older models that had a direct link between the charger and the phone. I ordered one from Amazon. Due on Friday.

Late afternoon shot.

The fridge after Carer Josie had finished. Nice!

The meal of the day, Stew!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Dasvidaniya!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Tue 1st July 2025. Farcical Day

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
FOR TODAY
When they come to fit my unwanted smart-meter…
They’ll have to cut off the power,
I’ll need to reset the shower & hot water?
Most worryingly, my computer,
Reset the TV, playbox, & router,
The panic/assistance alarm speaker,
Two landline telephones connected to the ether,
Showing my electrical ignorance & Naïveté,
Time for panic, worry & and thinking waywardly,
Fear, depression, frustration, concern, & misery,
Trying to find & adapt to feel hopefully,
Will I cope with Whoopsiedangleploppery?
Now, as I type, I’ve got amblyopy,
Caused by bewilderment, fear & perplexity.

District Nurses tended to the Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
Thought the leg was doing well, ideally,
But the right foot was still in agony,
Thanked them, sadly, they went away.
They were up to their necks in it, and very busy! 💟

Still awaiting the call from Neurology,
And the mystery parcel from UPS, hopefully, for me,
The kind Kaftan washing lady, 🌺
The nurse, to take blood, Warfarin for the DVT,

Awaiting the Smart Meter, fretfully…
I wound myself up dyspeptically,
Forded into having one, I disagree,
British Gas is acting so oligarchically,
But there’s no option, it’s not discretionary,
This bugs an already pissed-on Inchie!
Concern & fear of their cutting the electricity,
Put Duodenal Donald into declivity,
Anne Gyna’s started showing new activity,
Do I consider British Gas derogatory?
Absobloodylutely!

I opened the balcony doors and windows last night before I settled into the hospital bed; it was flipping well hot in the flat. A bad night, as per usual, disturbed repeatedly for the usual reasons. The need of the Porcelain Throne, each time I nodded off, I’d jump awake within minutes. Then, a couple of my famous “Worry-Bug” episodes. I’d made up a bottle of water for overnight from the fridge, so it was cold for a while anyway. But WBW (Worry-Bug-William) wondered if I’d turned off the taps and closed the fridge door, so I just had to struggle out of bed and into the kitchen to check. All was okay. I got back into bed, determined to get and stay asleep!
Minutes later, WBW was concerned again. Had I turned off the taps in the Porcelain Throne room? 
I think it took away my depression & worries of what would happen this morning with all the callers due, at least temporarily. I’d not left the taps running, but I had left the light on. This brought to mind the unnecessary, unwanted, and unneeded electricity meter that the Oligarchs are putting in anyway. 
That set me off worrying about reconnecting the computer, phone, alarm, router, and so on. 
Yet another crappy night with a pathetic amount of sleep. I plumped into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner. But it does come in damned handy to use to drag myself up after a tumble, trip or fall. Around 04:30hrs, still no sleep and with kicking off, I gave up and got up. At least, although not on top form concentration-wise, and dog tired with the attentions of , starting to grumble, still, it gave me time before the callers come calling to do A good start, as I got into the wet room…

Somehow, suddenly wobbled, and down I went, hitting my chin on the WC raising bar! But, I only went down on one knee, and  . I was able to claw my way back up on my legs using the sink and basin. Heroically, I pressed on with utilising the .
A messier affair than yesterday’s! Clean thing up, and boldly ventured to start shaving… yes, even after all the blood loss from my previous shave, I showed no fear. Okay, ! I thought I was being so careful;
 However, by the time I’d finished shaving, I’d got three cuts, and I spotted I’d got crimped red marks on my chin. A real mystery how that appeared. Unless it was from the contact made with the sink during my initial tumble? Medicated reachable area in need of it. No rushing, because I knew I wouldn’t have time to post on the blog, and it was still early. (I didn’t realise that I was going to get on this blog, then)

Carer Ejaz arrived, spotted the markings and cuts on my face. And told me to buy an electric razor. Ejaz performed a body check and massaged Cetraben cream on the areas I couldn’t reach. The back and feet, for me. The swelling in the legs had decreased, as had the swelling in the feet, but not by as much. I still couldn’t get the slippers on. Ejaz forced them onto my feet for me. Hehe!

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Received some treatment from two district nurses. 

By 15:00hrs, the oligarchs, neurologist, INR nurse,  and the Catheter Nurse had not arrived.  
So, I set about starting this blog.

Expecting an arrival from any one of them at any time. Silly me!

Oh, I did take a few photos. I’ll see if I can get them to load into CorelDRAW.

Late morning view.

Today’s arranged visits. Hahaha!

Put the TV on when I started this blog.

Still awaiting the arrival of the people installing the oligarch’s electricity meter. 

No seizures at all, as far as I could tell?

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Bootiful!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – MESSY UNPLANNED DAY – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy’s Ode: Monday 30th June 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I escaped my flat, my three-roomed home,
First, I took my morphine and prednisolone,
An adventure to get out, though all alone,
Tried to identify each smell, each pheromone,
The tree copse, cooking food and cannabis,
I smelt the gloom, & people’s armpits,
Watched the dogs sniffing out bitches oestrone,
Sick on the pavement, looking like zabaglione,
In the distance, I thought I heard an altoist…
Then, I lost grip of my walking stick,
Took a tumble, realised I was not autarkic,
The Warden came over, and that did the trick.
She got me up again, back in the flat in a tick,
I sat and thought about Starmer…
Not a pleasant pondering on a wanker,
The PM, a backhander-taking free banqueter,
I, a tea & biscuit-dunker, he? Drunker!
He is an oligarch, I am a robbed pensioner,
But I didn’t get any angrier…
Cause the valve dropped off my catheter,
These things have happened before,
Anne Gyna, the ever-leaking oedema,
The nurse will be calling. Bless her,
Today, or the day after,
Clean, cream the legs, and replaster.
All the best to Starmer, the bloodsucker,
I’ve an appointment; Doctor of Neurology,
But that’s not until next November, you see,
My Doctor told them it was an emergency,
I’ve another urgent one waiting for me…
Glaucoma, been waiting since 2023,
I suppose this sounds as if I’m sorry?
Sorry for myself, pathetically?
I guess I may be anti-aristocracy?
They can afford private treatment, medically,
Murderers in jail get treated quicker than Inchy!
I put it down to jealousy, basically,
Worst of all, No Carer Joe, to look after Gerry!
Boosting my ego, caring carefully…
Always a smile, ever helpingly…
My depression depths now? Acceleratingly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I feel so low today
Sorry, it is how I feel
Help is not easy to find
Losing Carer Joe stinks
An infected brain rules how I think
I have to question my mind.
Confused most of the time
Now, depressed, all the time.
If there are any prospects of help…
I can’t see them. Sorry.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Better

Morning view

Legs on waking were looking much calmer.
This would not last, of course.

Erm… can’t remember taking this, or why?

Carer Elaz snapped the top of my head.

Then the hand injury. He put cream on both of them and then on my feet for me.
Not too bad later.

Food arrived.
No-butter butter spreadable.
Regular tomatoes, Milk Roll loaf, Silesian sausages, Polish sausages, cheesy topped bread rolls.
Fish sticks, and three Tiger Tomatoes.
These might taste good.

Fridge not overfull!
Nurses & Carer shelves.

Carer Joe made his last ever call.
What a Priceless Man. He sorted out the online banking again. Bless his cotton socks!

Green/brown tomato sliced and put in the no-butter buttered wholemeal rolls. Two Sileasian sausages, red spring onions, beetroot and some beans. I seem to have run out of peas.
Gorgeous flavour!

Sorry, but tomorrow will be a busy day for me, and I’ll have to cope with more than one caller at the same time. I fear most of them.

British Gas is installing a Smart Meter and will need to turn off the power. Doing so will kill the emergency Panic Alarm, landlines, internet and TV. Plus the fridge and freezer. I have no idea how to get them back on. A genuine worry. So, a blog for tomorrow is doubtful in terms of time. The chances are that I won’t be able to use the phones, alarms, computer, stove, hot water, door, or intercom after they’ve been cut off to fit the Smart Meter, which I’ve never wanted anyway due to my arithmaphobia. Do I seem worried? That’s because I am, and with no Carer Joe to help me sort things.

UPS: Sent an email about a parcel being delivered tomorrow between 09:15 and 12:05 hours.

The nurse is due to clean and remediate, and replaster Lymphoedema Leslie’s bloated, leaking feet and legs.

The Neurology Surgeon’s assistant is to contact me on the landline to discuss the chosen procedure. Twixt 09:30 & 11:00hrs.

Precious is calling to fetch the Kaftans for hand washing, bless her.

There is a chance that the DVT Nurse will be taking blood for the Warfarin INR level testing.

The Community Nurses are due to take out the Cathy Catheter Contraption and replace it. (Shudder!)

How many will arrive at the same time is anyone’s guess, but with my luck, I’ll get all confused and forget all that people tell me.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
See Ya Later Alligator…
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy’s Ode: Today: Sunday 29th June 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
AS I TYPED INSTANT MEMORIES…
Starting with Nelson Cigarettes,
I stopped smoking when they went up to 3/6!
Packs of ten, up to 1/9d, I went to the chemist,
To get something, to stem my baccy addiction,
Lozenges & tablets cost me a fortune!
I’d run out of them by later that afternoon,
Polo mints were cheaper, so I bought a carton,
A week later, off to the dentist in Carlton,
I still needed to stop my baccie attraction…
I overate and increased my aggression,
For unknown reasons, I suffered constipation,
Alcohol was not an acceptable substitution,
I tried nibbling carrots, dipped in vinegar,
My skin went Orange, the doc called it carotenemia,
It took me yonks to beat my addiction,
I could take months was the Doctor’s prediction,
Offering me  tablets, a sort of antidepressant,
The pangs eventually lessened,
I was again feeling benignant,
Regained control, became again complaisant,
But it cost me my body, growing so corpulent!

STUCK IN THE LIFT ON A SUNDAY!
It could happen to anyone, any day,
This day it was the turn of Inchy…
He pressed the alarm button quickly,
Noticed his catheter bag filling promptly,
He hoped the engineer would get there speedily,
His innards rumbled; his bowels may self-empty!
The lift cage shook as it inched up, jerkily…
T’was the fire Brigade, his mobile did tinkle
The voice sounded like he was using a swozzle,
His hearing aid batteries died. What a muddle!
Heard nothing, but thought I might be in trouble,
Instructions being given were inscrutable,
And his catheter bag was now so very, very full!
The inching the lift up, at this rate, it would be April…
Before I’d be rescued, thinking irrationally, silly,
Hours later came the shaming… it was terrible,
They got the lift door open, 2ft of space available,
To physically pull my mass up, all they could do,
Then leant in, and dragged me up and through…
To the flat I almost flew,
Emptied the catheter, what a phoo!
Trotsky Terence’s evacuation, which was well overdue,
Needed to thank whoever lifted me out of the lift, though,
Nice chap, his name was Angelino.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was busier overnight than I’ve been in years.
I think I addressed this in the last blog; I nearly bored you with more of the same. Phew! The amount of sleep I got is easy-peasy to work out.
Zilch, None, Zero, Ninguno, Keiner, Dim, Nessuno! 

Falling to sleep now! Huh!

Decent colour

What an ablutioning and medicalisationing visitation this morning. Go wrongable? It did! Huh!
I got some soapy, disinfected water in the bowl without any . Then the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived in a bit of a hurry… !!!
A controlled evacuation, which exited at the speed of a torpedo, followed by the usual splurty detritus. Cleaning it up with all the bending needed gave new life & vigour to and . It also took me that long to clean up, so that the water in the bowl had gone cold. No problem, you say? Just empty it and refill it, you say? Well, it was for me! I made a right mess dropping the bowl as I was tipping it into the sink. I didn’t clean it up; my EQ told me not to bother. As I was refilling it with a jug from the sink tap, the jug shot out of my neurotic grip and joined the cold, disinfected water on the floor! Of course, I just laughed this off and tucked into the painful job of mopping up and drying the floor and mats. (Huh!) 
Then, refilled the bowl with the same things and started to have a shave. (Yes, the blood flowed freely, but not voraciously!) Then, the door chime rang out, and Carer Manpreet came in. There I was, starkus, with blood streaming down my head… I had to ask Manpreet to pass me a pair of PPs as I’d run out of them in the wet room. Which she did. I was given the medications, and Manpreet cleaned the wound on my right hand where I’d trapped it in a kitchen drawer the other day. The feet seemed a lot less filled with oemeba fluids, but they soon refilled again as the day went on… and on, and on. I may not sound happy this morning, there are a few reasons for that. Losing Carer Joe, being the main one. As soon as Manpreet departed, I scurried back into the wet room to continue finishing the shaving.
Of course , the water for washing the feet had gone cold again!
As is my way, I carefully emptied the bowl and refilled it without incident.
I knew I shouldn’t have fallen into a state of smugness. As I began to finish shaving, I’d forgotten about the cuts earlier and swiftly added to the total. Which, as Carer Manpreet had said earlier, added to about twelve. Not now, it’s now sixteen, as far as I can gather. These, along with the three in gash from the other day, make me want to take the advice of Tim Price, and go ‘caveman!’

To the medication of the body’s various departments in need. I started with what I would usually leave till last. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating. I was trying to be careful with the dropper… but dropped it! What a Plonker! It is only a tiny bottle, but all the liquid flowed away on the floor before I could get down to retrieve it… Banging my hand wound on the corner of the floor cabinet! I wiped it and put some Germolene on the thenar space this time, with a plaster. A good job; I keep some medications in stock for emergencies, just in case of any accidental injuries, falls, or walking into a door. Tsk!
Then they were cleaned, creamed and treated.

As far as here, and could do nothing for hours. Made infinitely worse because each bout from brought me back to semi-reality. And I couldn’t concentrate enough to do anything!
It was nearly going bonkers. I may have had a few times when returning to life, recovery took longer each time. Late in the night, the Seizures faded.

I made a meal ASAP in case the seizures returned.

MEAT FEAST TONIGHT

Carer Mizra came as I was washing the pots.
This evening view caught his eye.

I settled in after washing the pots and sat in the second-hand, charity shop-bought recliner that was £300, broken down, with a catheter tube crunching, dried blood-covered, grotty, dirty, and creaking frame, and fell asleep while watching the box. I stayed in it, as the Seizures and Colin Cramps had not bothered me, and might do if I got up to climb into the bed: Cunning, eh?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
May your Woes Weaken, & your Mojo Grow!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Sat 28 June 2025: What a days end!

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Off to the wet room for a wash and an ablution,
The Porcelain Throne movement was liquidy…
I went to get my anti-diuretic medication,
Opening the drawer, it was a little sticky…
Which held medicines non-prescription,
Taking the box, I went a little dizzy,
Got myself in some confusion,
Trapped my hand, getting a contusion,
A scratch, a bruise, a tiny abrasion, 
Carer Manpreet put on some cream,
And I began to think and dream…
Of the world’s upcoming desolation,
Will Hell or Heaven be awaiting…
Which will lambast us for self-annihilating?
Will we see Heaven or Hell’s disintegration?
117 billion  people have lived on this Earth,
That’s a lot of dead souls. Which were worthy?
How did they get through the gates so pearly?
Adam & Eve, they must have arrived early?
Are their souls with mammoths & anacondas?
Will the Grim Reaper take souls from Pure Cremation?
Are the Reapers from the unknown Hell or Heaven?
Hell’s interviewers assess your suitability for entry?
Oligarchs, Hitler, Stalin, Putin, Trump, & Göring get there?
Along with Starmer & Blair, the backhander taking pair,
Oligarchs, they’ll take over Hell’s agenda,
But we who are currently breathing air…
Will never know if anyone is out there!
I know it was pointless being a Brexiteer,
But the end commeth, but no need to fear!
Although at first, things will seem a little queer…
No body, brain, cataracts, no mouth to drink beer,
No sight, hearing, or need for ablutional passing,
No murdering, wars, revolutions or farting,
Nothing to need fearing, authorising or appraising,
You may not even know, after passing…
No more eating, washing, or inequality,
Rent, electricity, or food prices are rising!
No appealling bodies, for wanting or screwing,
No hours lost constipating,
No corrupting, counterfeiting, courting, or coveting, Canyoneering, chauffeuring, or cheering,
Women, no childbearing, catering, or censoring,
No cleaning, coiffuring, nail polishing,
Or anyone to give a bollocking tongue-lashing!
Aristotle said we may still be dreaming.
I think life may have been spent part-time musing,
While waiting for the inevitable ending?
Still, this is not a sad message that I’m sending,
I’d love to know if this thought is trending,
Hopefully, peace will flow, even if we don’t know…
And nothing worth commemorating!
One final thing that I would like to mention…
Ask a friend, neighbour or relation… 
To check you’re dead before your cremation!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Not up to much today. Although having said that, as much as I struggled to get the Ode done, and it took me hours, I still managed to glean some pleasure out of it. I’ve got to cope without Carer Joe now. Well, I say that, he has got a call on Monday, sadly, it will be his last one. I’m scared and worried about how I’ll cope without him. He’s saved the day so many times for me, often several times a week!
My fear is getting at me. I can’t help it.

The nocturnal pouch is still attached and shows the red foot, not the white one. Hehe! At least the oedema swelling on top[ of both feet had died down a little while I’d got my feet up. I fell asleep early, but woke up and got up in a semi-confused state, suspecting I’d just had a seizure. Judging by my concentration and balance, they are all over the place.

Took this view from the kitchenette. I then 
decided to sit down, as my balance was not good, and spent hours updating yesterday’s blog.

Carer Mampreet arrived. She administered the medications and applied some cream to the hand wound and the tops of the feet, which were filling up with liquid again. Then she Germolened the shaving scar on the back of my neck. Bless her!
Manpreet took this photo of a hand-wound for me. She used the barrier cream. The photo used in the Ode, the very poor, out-of-balance one, I took earlier. When Shaking Shaun was visiting me.

Back onto the computer and made a dubious start on this blog. Creating the graphics, despite CorelDRAW warning me that it would need to be updated to save any work to the new version. Somehow, I managed to get it to work. I cannot recall what I did, I just pray I can do it again in the morning session. A call from Carer Joe would have been invaluable!

I went to make a mug of tea, my first one of the day. And, I’d been up for nearly five hours already. I’ll pay for this later on, big time.

The Iceland stores order arrived. The driver kindly put them in a line, blocking the doorway, so I could move one at a time. I took some pictures of the food bits, but without the SD card in the camera. Humph! Obtaining the photo of the carriers is another aspect of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, which also includes hobgoblins, spectres, gnomes, phantoms, grotesque succubi, extraterrestrials, ectoplasm, and spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, concentration, and logicality were already well on the wane. 

The tea had gone cold, so I hobbled to the kitchen to make another brew of Co-Op 99 tea. Taking the above snap of my feet & legs, I noticed that they were even more pronouncedly white on the left and red on the right. The oedema fluid had filled the top and bottom of the right foot, making walking more difficult again. Oh, and painful too!

Made a brew and back to the blogging.

Started making Templates for July.

I assume it was, anyway, that kept blurring my eyesight so much that I had to give up on blogging. These ‘Blur’ periods have been lasting for a few minutes at most, then the vision clears again. Not this time; I was still struggling when making the meal, after switching to reading glasses.

Making and prepping the meal was spoiled and harassed by the arrival of . I dropped the knife three times. Slicing the tomatoes resulted in a cut on a fingernail. Burnt my hand, right on the wound from trapping it in the drawer. Finally, I got it made up, photographed it, and settled down to eat it. Which was another farce. Showed up, and the tray plopped onto the floor, distributing various parts of the meal on the carpet! I discovered a partially eaten piece of sausage on the ottoman in the morning.
I salvaged some of it and still enjoyed it.

The cleaning up of the mess after dining was not appreciated at all. , , , ,
and were amongst the ailments that were displeased with all the bending down I had to do. Only the innards that had just had their hunger satisfied didn’t complain. I was in such agony in so many areas of my body.
As I climbed into the hospital bed, there were so many aches and twinges, then (Hah!), joined in the onslaught!
It took me hours to fall asleep. The primary reason is the pain, obviously. But these were exacerbated by and   that I had to get out of bed so often. As I recall, to check that the taps were not left running? Had I locked the flat door? Then I realised that I’d forgot to ask the Carer to fit the nocturnal catheter bag. The fight to get out of bed and the bending down again to find and fit the night bag prompted her to increase the level and potency of her attacks. I had to get up about five times from the hospital bed. Each one was painful, especially under the feet, as I had to walk on the Oedema fluid-filled feet. I gave up, and got into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, second-hand charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. Thankfully, I had taken a rest, but I was replaced with worrying about how I’m going to manage without Carer Joe.

Sleep turned into a fantasy. I sat there and stewed in my pathetic self-pity, until my leg fell off the chair my feet were resting on, to ease the Oedema problem. That extra bit of pain was enough for to come overhead, and sink into my psyche. So, virtually no sleep. 05:30hrs:  Somehow, I forced myself up to start the day with a gloom that had never been with me before.
And the Whoopsies began again…

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I CAN DO WITHOUT DAYS LIKE THIS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Friday 27th June 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Horrible, cruel, and what will happen if they do catch them? They can get their drugs more easily and cheaper in Nottingham prison. I heard nothing about the police catching the group of women who were using drones to deliver various drugs to appointed areas within the prison last month. They’ll have no electricity, rent, or food to pay for. No laundry to do, they might have a little housework or Pokey cleaning. They are assured full NHS treatments for free. Their Christmas dinner will not be like mine, and I’ll have to cook it, clean up, and remember not to leave the oven or water tap running. Don’t you go thinking that I’m sulking, pissed-off with the legal system and HMG… I am, though. These scum youths, cowardly attacking an eighty year old woman in broad daylight!
Uncaring, feral beasts!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I once met a man who was a Ku Klux Klan Klokard,
He now felt guilt, and he self-jugulated,
That result was, to me, a bit of a bonsella,
All this namby-pambying is bilgewater,
If they can’t do the time, they shouldn’t do the crime,
23 murders in the UK in 2003,
48 Murders in the UK in 2013,
An MP who is obviously addlebrained,
A backhand taker and a fibber,
I’d like to know why?
I know we are all going to die,
But who is to blame, who is guilty?
Who started humankind?
Allah? God? The universe corrupted?
Have aliens already communicated?
Have invaders visited and then vacated?
We’ve all whispered, wittered, wondered, whimpered,
Why is life so complicated?
Why will peace never be accoutred?
Crime, war, has never been abrogated,
Will Earth end up with anoxia?
This Ode tells you, I’ve got aprosexia…
When all I seek is ataraxia,
Many icons, claiming to be the arbiter,
Too many humans = appropinquity,
Politicians claimed to act abstemiously,
Make & take decisions clearheadedly,
They actually tried to act decently!
Although none of that recently…
Starmer, Putin, Trump? Are they crazy?
Wannabe dictators, increasingly?
From which the World can only be free…
After the apocalyptic catastrophe,
But that’s no good for you and me,
Even to anyone, including the Oligarchy,
We must stop animosity, enmity, hostility…
Criminality, jealousy, greed, and animosity… 
Says Inchie, shrugging his shoulders abjectly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I don’t say this very often, but this morning went pretty smoothly… it didn’t last long. It was helpful having two visits from Carer Joe, who will not be calling again this weekend, Saturday or Sunday, and his last day will be on Monday. I am deeply heartbroken. I’ve never known such a willing and genuinely caring Carer from this company.
I’m going to struggle with all the things the lad willingly helped me out with. Every day that he called. But he can’t be blamed. 
This is the bad news I wanted to tell you.

I left the tap on again. I walked into the wetroom door (Semi shoulder-charged it, Haha!)
Found that the butter, a pack of sausages (Not Hostages), just in case Winter Fuel Payment stealer, Herr Starmer, does read my blog. He really ought to, it’d give him an idea of how hated he is, and it might remind him of his dishonesty, & lies…
Where was I? Oh, yes, the food; Butter, sausages, a jar of beetroot, a pot of… no, two pots of yoghourts, all out of date. Threw them out.
Then I had to make a food order to replace them.
Today is my saddest day in years!

The nurse came to change the pad on my leg. A lovely lady. Pointed out the I’d I’d got on the back of my neck, about 3 inches long. Told me to be careful when washing or shaving. The oedema in the feet was a concern. But the leg was doing well. I had one red and one white foot at the same time!

Carer Ejaz did the first call. Barrier creamed the hand wound for me. The mini seizures kicked off. Concentration was all but disabled with having so many recoveries to make in a short time. This is the first photo of the view taken earlier. After taking it, I burnt a finger, spilling the hot water from the kettle when Shaking-Shaun visited.
I made a start on this blog. Not too successfully so far, but I pressed on nonetheless. Which was a bloody daft thing to do.
I paid for it with the seizures, or rather, the recovery from these Shortie-Seizures. Not so easy today, and took far longer each time. Shorty-Seizures, I like that terminology; I’ll patent it. Hehe!

Sister Jane rang me and managed a little natter. That was nice, I enjoyed it, despite not being in a good mood thanks to the feared, fed-up, and gloomy g of .

Not to mention all the other problems, mental and physical, that somehow seem so much keener, cruel, and almost soul-destroying.

Plenty of sunshine today. But I dare not go out in it. The heat would make my oedema worse, and possibly blind me.

Waiting for the last Carer call now, Ejaz, I think I’ll get some sandwiches made up… Oh no, I won’t!
I’ve no bread left, which went out with the other foods to the waste chute. Even if I had any, I’ve no butter to put on them. Sausages with some crisps seem the easiest option until food arrives in the morning. I’ve got some potatoes in the freezer. I’ll put them in the oven now!

Back in the morning, I hope.
03:10hrs, I’m back.


More time was lost, as CCleaner closed CorelDRAW, and it took two hours to get up and running again.

During which I forgot about the potato chunks cooking in the oven. Well burnt.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– I FANK YOU –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy’s Ode & Bits Thursday 26th June 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The memories needed for Inchies’ Ode,
Required to be excavated from where they had gathered,
The house of Dementia, my brain to be ungraved…
For related facts & memories, I scavenged,
Finding little, as mind-detritus accumulated,
I hunted, foraged, but little was garnered,
Many things that couldn’t be recognised, 
But, I couldn’t find the mother-load,
Anne Gina came, concentration deflected…
Carer Ejaz arrived, and I had my wounds inspected,
Delicate areas were well-barriered,
Medicines given, my bruised hand was medicated,
Back to the Ode, brain now more fragmented,
Set fact-harvesting, I again wrestled,
But nothing of any use was obtained,
Some unwanted oddities were gleaned…
I had to stop my attempted Ode preparation,
What happened next, I can’t say I was surprised…
I’d lost my plot for this flipping Ode!
I wasn’t traumatised, stressed or agitated, 
Maybe just a smidgeon exacerbated?
I’d be delighted if my life could be bedighted!

Friday 1025hrs: Just got as far as here after doing the ad-lib Ode. The nurse is due in about an hour. I think. So I’ll have to rush on and miss bits off.
I’m further behind than ever before.
Blog-wise, and I do love doing it.

Legs this morning, on waking up.

Legs this afternoon. Looking better, but the feet are still dodgy to walk on. When they go down enough to get my slippers on, things may improve.

Late morning view.

Catheter drink made up.

Afternoon view.

Trapped my hand in the drawer.
How? Not the foggiest, I was in a seizure at the time. No pain until I came out of it, feeling giddy as usual. The feet being full of bodily fluids didn’t help very much at all.

A Pareidolia’s Delight, evening snap.
I see a bird and a beast eating it.
Carer Ejaz saw the beast straight away.

I was well fatigued and tired, and forgot to put the tomatoes on the tray. Tsk!
Went to wash the pots and found I’d left the hot tap running yet again. The drain had blocked, but luckily, I arrived in time to prevent an overflow from triggering the flood alarm. 👍🏼

Rifled through the drawer to get the unplugger wire, and somehow caught my hand in the rush as I trapped it in the drawer.

TTFNski!

Inchies: Wednesday-Worriments 25th June 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Or, rather, me forgetting to close it!
This morning, my mind seemed less peripatetic,
Carer Ejaz turned into almost a medic,
Body check, acne & eczema, medications next,
Got a bowl of water to wash, then dried my feet,
It was difficult getting about…
The toes felt as if I had gout,
On the computer, the door chime rang out,
Just, I was emptying the catheter pouch,
Walked in agony, to see who it was…
Window cleaner, to give them a wash,
I explained that I wasn’t feeling up to much,
I said no thanks, & locked him out,
Got back and started the blog layout,
Ten minutes later, or thereabouts,
I felt warm wee-wee coming from the pouch,
As I stood up, the carpet made a squealch…
I’d left the valve open; I went into a panic,
Spent an hour drying it, where I could reach,
The computer? I had to log out…
As I bent to soak the carpet… Ouch!
I banged my head on the corner of the couch!
Carer Joe arrived, and I was very confused,
He took the laundry, and I got more bemused,
Tried to log on with the bank, it refused…
I tried to get it going, things were adjusted,
Our efforts to log in were busted…
Password & log-in, each stayed unaccepted,
Now seizure & Anne Gyna started,
I was getting most aggravated,
Faux pas & frustrations got me agitated,
Then the Physio chap arrived,
Just as I was coming back out of a mini seizure,
I told him of my Accifauxpa & the wet Axminster,
And went back into a partial seizure…
A total blank, the next half-hour,
I think I lost a bit of willpower,
Anne Gyna returned with mental confusion,
Carer Joe updated me on the missed action,
I had trouble remaining focused,
The computer froze, & I became a fatalist…
Turned off the computer, I’d never felt frumpier!
Constantly being got at by Anne Gyna,
My curses and oaths were at their foulest,
Carer Joe called, and I found sudden joyfulness,
Joe moved a plug, Google back on in 2 ticks,
I could have kissed him on his cheeks!
He’d made me a momentary rapturist,
Ridden with bad luck, short of spondulicks,
Worried if the seizures are classed as fits,
My resolution was at its squalidest,
Anne Gyna, Toothache Tiffany & sidekicks,
Depression, frustration put on my shitlist,
Today was my testiest, traumatised & tetchiest,
Made a meal, midnight well past…
Things I couldn’t find, or had lost…
Sharp knife, TV remote, and wristwatch…
Banking details, AA batteries for the clock,
I still can’t get my foot into a slipper or sock…
I’ll always be a failure and a solecist!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A miserable day, as revealed by the Ode above.
A chaotic schedule. Seizure and error-ridden.
Along with the frustration and depression, I had Anne Gyna back on form. Any one of the Accifauxpas would have been more than enough for me.
The seizure, when the man from the NHS Health and Safety came, was almost a blank. But I saw that he had fitted a cushion to the computer chair for me. Thank you! This is the first time I had a seizure when two people were present. Hope I didn’t drop any clangers or say the wrong thing. 🤞🏻

I managed to take a few photos.

On waking. Looking better

Early morning

Later in the day.
The feet began to swell.

Very late at night.

Tried to watch some recorded Heartbeat programmes. But got confused or went wrong. It didn’t help me fall asleep and made me feel disoriented each time I struggled and failed to exit the pre-recorded section. Humph! 
I gave up anticipating I’d nod off immediately.
But, no!
From nowhere, he got stuck in my mind with guilt-trips, shame, patheticness, depression, frustrations and all from years ago, at first anyway.
I clearly recall writing notes which I’m using now.
His digs were getting too close to the present time. This indicated how I am now struggling with everyday, simple daily tasks. It hit home! I think I forced myself awake. (Maybe not?)

Only to have a visit from He’s still with me, on and off this morning.
Life is becoming an albatross around my neck. I’ve never used that phrase before. It fits, though.
Gawd, I’m feeling low! But, thanks to Doctor Vindla, I’ve got my appointment to see a neurologist at the QMC. Unfortunately, it is for November! 
Hey-Ho!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
May the Force Be With You
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –