Inchy

Inchy: Thursday 6th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Grim: Ayeup, Inchy!
Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me!
Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy!
Inchy: Wot?
Grim: Yer always greet me affably,
Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family!
Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see?
Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy,
my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND,
Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily,
Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? 
Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly!
Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day!
Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, 
At making friends, I lost the ability…
Being flat-bound, & many a disability,
Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me,
Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny…
Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie…
So, despite everything, I feel lucky,
I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery…
Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity!
When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me!
Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony!
Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly…
Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly…
Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly,
Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity?
Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery,
Cephalometry, specifically craniometry,
I go willingly and happily…
Grim: Why happily & willingly? 
Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready,
Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness,  despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? 
Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious,
How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness?
Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening,
Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating…
Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating!
Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating,
one event watery, the next constipating…
Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting…
Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking!
Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing,
The stove blew up, so; no cooking,
The intercom broke, so there was no communication…
Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in,
Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing,
Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching!
When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming…
Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting,
While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing,
Someone may also be texting or emailing…
Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing!
The Catheter bag slowly filling…
Back to the flat for emptying,
Usually when the delivery will be arriving!
Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying,
And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding!
Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating,
Then my grip on things starts deteriorating,
Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting,
Dementia & PN, I start chastising,
The computer requires defragging,
But how to, I’m not remembering,
Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling,
The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating…
My mind turns to food and eating,
The bread is wet from the bottles bursting,
Soaked with a shandy flavouring,
Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning,
Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting!
And you wonder why I don’t mind dying?
Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
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04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.

I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.

I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once.
The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?

I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so,  had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.

So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.

I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.

Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.

I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).

Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.

I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.

I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.

Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.

New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,

An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed my rent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me.
At the bottom, I found this:
‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’!
I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!

I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!

I went to get the meal cooked. I  had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?

Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!

MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW!
What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down 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. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! 
Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no!
Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!

Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I  was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.

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Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
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Inchy: Monday 27th January 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Perhaps it’s time I was adulterised? 
I won’t qualify for being apostolised,
Too late for me to be activised or adrenalised,
I’m considering being re-alcoholised…
I’m no academist, a failed accordionist,
A mistake-maker? I’m the most awesome!
I’m not a Blairist or a Bonapartist,
My thoughts on Starmer are by bloodthirstiest,
As PMs go, he is undoubtedly he’s the brutalist,
Farmers & pensioners are his biggest bigotries,
I wish him cancer, pain and blepharitis,
While I’m at it, add brainsickness…
I have/had each of these ailments & sickness,
His stealing of my fuel allowance made me stressed,
My hatred can no longer be suppressed,
I’m a sceptisist, while he is a lying Satanist,
To Labours’ lost Cor-Values, he is a sacrilegist!
If he’d be kind enough to die. He’d be so unmissed!
He’d expect more backhanders in heaven’s mists…
Where dead pensioners & farmers resist…
Welcoming him with headbutts & fists!
But my guilt will not be vanquished!
Or should that be unvanquished?
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07:10 hrs: I stirred, woken by a grinding chesty cough, Dizzy Dennis, with Twtiching-Neck-Nigel trying his best to detach himself from my torso. 
Realising the time indicated that I’d slept the longest night for over many weeks, 8 hours! The phlegm-clearing continued for a few minutes longer.
Then I remembered that the Ocado order was due between 07:00-0800hrs; & I worried in case it had already been and I didn’t hear the intercom. 
I took off the nocturnal catheter pouch, a 7 on the graph, and as doing so, the door chime rang out. At first, I thought it must be the delivery, but Carer Richard came in. I was coughing away, so I took a swig of the cough linctus. 
Gawd, it tastes so foul! Eurgh!
Richard looked slightly tired at the end of his first shift back at work (naturally). He checked the medications and recorded the shortages, which were issued today. The last of the Anne Gyna Painkillers was taken. It will be a painful wait until the lad orders them from the doctor. She electronically orders replacements from the chemist, and his average delivery time has been three days up till now. So, a possible four days ahead without any help getting any ease Anne Gyna.  
I turned on the computer to check the time of the Ocado order, and it arrived as I was doing so. I put the things away and took a can of Mighty Malt that someone told me to try to perk things up a little. I drank it while typing this.
Then, I tried to sort out yesterday’s colossal error in making the templates and storing them out of order. What a Plonker!

COMPUTER CALAMITY!
There I was, doing well with the blog updates.
Suddenly, the cursor went blue, and I could not type anything else in the blog, ode or word list. After pressing the Esc button, I got a new email browser. I closed it in the same pickle as the other one. I tried various combinations of Ctrl Win & Alt buttons. All to no avail. I closed the computer, saved what it would allow me to, and selected “Restart Windows.”

At 11:40 a.m., Carer Chloe arrived.
A new full-sized Blue Screen came up. Options offered; 1) Open in Windows 10 browser. 2) Close this computer
3) Contact the MS engineer assistant line and another one 4) that was so technical it had me beaten. Chloe wanted me to press Number One. But I had set up Google as my browser. After getting myself even more confused, I closed the computer. Waited a few minutes & restarted again.

I was baffled but pleased to say that it was working!

RETURN
I’d been half-hoping she may have gone on vacation for a nice break. But, No! Silly me!

Carer Promise did the last two calls for me. Medications were given & diabetic socks were taken off. On the last call, he remembered he’d forgotten the prescription Medications. He nipped down and fetched them. Then, attach the nocturnal catheter bag. Thus, he saved me a lot of agonies when the Anne Gyna meds ran out. Carer Richard’s planning and Precious saved the say again.

Anne Gyna did her best to get at me again, but taking two of the tablets must have disappointed her aims.
Ranolazine & Beta-blockers at the ready!

A night of broken sleep patterns again, but I soon nodded off again each time that and/or woke me up. Yes, DD is back!

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Skol!
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Inchy: Friday 24th January 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Talking to Doreen Dementia communicably,
It has never been or will be very easy.
Cognitive Impairment Iris is another problem for me,
Avoiding things depreciatory or derogatory…
They both warp my limited etymology,
It annoys them when I get stuttery…
Why? When I’m communicating mentally,
I appreciate that I stutter verbally,
Especially when I talk aguishly nervously…
I’ve disabilities in physical & mental functionality,
This is just a barely-bearable reality,
A by-product of Peripheral Neuropathy,
And having the stroke, regretfully,
The brain moves between agony, self-hatred & complacency,
It seems my neurotransmitters have lost choreography.
When the Neurosurgeon hacks in cerebrumly…
In my brain, what will he see? An electric melee?
My surviving nerve ends, as confused as me?
Or Doreen & Rita, having a cup of tea, bizarrerie,
Deciding how they can attack me… bloodcurdlingly,
Can he drag them out using keyhole surgery?
Maybe they got in when I had my appendectomy?
They’re illegal immigrants; they didn’t ask Inchy!
Annoyingly, my pre-op emotion is one of apathy…
They get pleasure from Mind-Mangling, you see…
But how did they get at me? Serendipity?
I have to suffer their Satanophany, frustratingly,
If this op fails, will I be brokenhearted? Hardly!
I’ll show no displeasure or recalcitrancy, 
I’ll be in cloud-cuckoo-land, & thankfully… 
To the surgeons, nurses, & staff at the QMC,
And go back to my life’s mental hurly-burly,
Where my own thoughts lack authenticity,
My memory is beyond any help or assistance,
Self-worth and good luck show imperceptibility,
To my struggle with mental mobility,
My ailments gift of physical disability,
Glaucoma Gladys makes my vision foggy,
Shaking Shaun keeps me feeling groggy,
Anne Gyna, currently the epitome of agony,
Catheter leaks, leaving my leg & slippers soggy!
The morning ritual of cleaning things that are bloody,
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion; he’s also sticky,
Eye drops & sprays, lip balm, cream the piles, that’s dodgy!
Yes, back to the flat of milk and honey,
Computer, mobile, and TV troubles, not funny…
Where I’m perceived unsympathetically,
The mini seizures, Leg dances, Twitching-neck-Ali,
Where I’m assured of being ignored & querimony,
And of Fauxpas & Whoopsiedangleploppery!
And await my Glaucoma op, & retinopathy…
And the everyday hassle from Arthur Itis, Not Askey!
The terrible twins, Catheter right, Carol, left, Chloe,
When they go, at best, you’ll fall on one knee…
Which always sets off a reaction from the FND…
Arthur Itis, Cartilages Carol and/or Chloe,
Sometimes, the Catheter pouch will blow!
The tube in Little Inchie yanks; you will never know…
The pain entailed cleaning & medicating with Opzeluro,
My right testicle swells to the size of a baking potato!
Still, I don’t like to complain, though!
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I had a lot of bother in the morning trying to get this blog started. I’m starting to get all het-up now.

I got 3 hours kip in, though. Ye-Haaa!

It’s now Saturday, and it’s 19:00hrs! So this will be short.
Otherwise, Saturdays will never get started. Arghh!
Sorry about this. Not coping well.

The new ailment that I thought was the Cartilages… now I don’t think it was. Several times when the knees gave way today, both went together. Terrible sensations. From the ankles, knees and up to the thigh. Everything wobbled, and the instant weakness and balance loss all but had me over a few times. Actually, it did have me over once. But I crumpled conveniently onto the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.

The nocturnal Catheter Pouch was classed as a No. 8 on the NHS Richter Scale Card. Hehe!

Carer Sherida called. She kindly removed the socks that were not done earlier and suggested I ask the next carer to put the fresh ones on. She checked to ensure that they were diabetic ones for me. This way, I could get a proper shower and medicalisationing session early.

I struggled to finish the show and was dubious about my weak legs. Constipation: Conrad was still in control of the Porcelain Throne duties. There was a smidgeon of blood, but it was hardly worth mentioning. The shaving: I thought I had done a good bloodless job. I got under the shower and used the shower chair for the shower session, which was well over an hour. Then, I ensured all the needed treatment areas of my magnificent, muscular, youthful body were well dried, drying the Catheter bag and tubing simultaneously.

Then, as I was getting on the dressing gown, I felt all the hairs I’d missed on my neck hole when shaving. I was a midge annoyed as I got the tackle out and gave the neck a go over again. The bleeding took me ages of time and half a bottle of Brut aftershave to stem the flow. Humph!

Carer Sherida took the laundry bag down for me. Pound to a penny, the bag gets stolen, or the clothes disappear again.

Carer Sam did the midday spot.

Carer Precious Called. I mentioned the low quantity of the Anne Gyna medications, and they told me they had been delivered.

I feel I’m going to go through pain like never before after the tablets run out on Monday.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Tuesday 21st January 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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Last night, I spent coughing very chestily,
And kept sneezing cacophonously,
Passing wind virtually continuously…
From Reflux Roger and my bottie,
Freezingly and shiveringly,
My tears ran down into my mouth; rather salty,
Little Inchie’s fungal lesion bled capriciously…
Sleep? Well, that was an impossibility,
I was dealing with these new ailments intolerantly,
But Thought Storming Steve gave no claptrappery,
I gave up trying to do things somnambulatory,
And escaped the bed to the lavatory,
Trotsky Terence came prematurely…
This was most shamefully embarrassingly!
Then, the job of doing the cleaning,
More problems when I started computing…
Gmail graphics on it, refusing!
I took Codeine and an Adrenocorticotrophin,
Got my mask on, and Carer Chloe came in,
As she sorted the medicationing…
The food delivery was arriving…
The driver took the bags through to my kitchen,
I forgot to ask Chloe to put my socks on…
Today, there was many an omission,
Chloe left, and I sank into a state of curmudgeon,
As I fought back the incoming depression,
Second Throne visit – even more humiliating,
What am I dreaming of, imagining, indicating?
Diabetic Dementia, mind juggling…
Yet this cold seemed more worrying & bothering?
Enough of my self-tormenting, witwantoning,
I going to get this Ode done, then my bed I will jump in,
Carer Sam called, and I was moaning…
My self-pity vessel was filling,
Life is not very fulfilling…
I’ll battle on, but I’m not genuinely willing,
My bad luck seems unrelenting,
Onto the bed, I’ll soon be settling,
Will I be able to manage to get some sleeping?
If owt happens, that’s worthy of writing,
Anything worth reporting…
No camera for photographing…
Where am I going?
What am I doing?
What will ensue for me?
Maybe a summat will happen. That’s thrilling…
Enchanting, stirring, exhilarating?
Huh, blood from the teeth & gums are flowing!
Onto the bed, in search of Sweet Morpheus,
Oh, I’m expecting the nurse…
Hristina, a lovely, kind gal, an Aquarius
I love to see her and her apparatus!
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Sleep didn’t come, but apprehensiveness did,
The next few hours were fetid, which made me livid,
Getting no sleep, but I felt almost intrepid…
The following events didn’t make me  stolid,
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Here are the reasons why I hadn’t slept,
An alarm went  & stopped,
Then there rang out a fire alarm, I panicked
An alarm went beep-beep-beep-bleep & stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped,
The landline rang, someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Again, the landline rang; too late, the ringing stopped,
An alarm went beep-beep-beep and stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped,
After five hours a minute’s sleep, I was gifted,
Then the alarm went beep-beep-beep & stopped,
Carer Chris came in, into the drinks selection he dived,
Then, a drink was chosen & correlated,
Again, the landline rang; someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Then Cartilage Carol once again crumpled,
But a complete fall was deflected…
The leg was medicated & elastoplasted,
An alarm going beep-beep-beep was emitted,
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Carer Chris had forgot to bring the camera,
But he took a shot of the meal & bilgewater!
And the hospital bed, & controller,
On his phone, saved these to his SND recorder,
Said he’s off work for 72 hours,
Wants to be with his wife, who is now pregnanter,
Carer Richard & Joanne off, both much poorlier,
I know how they feel with acute coryza,
Head cold, grinding-coughing, known as Flu-R,
It is unpleasant and a right miserable bugger!
I tried to get some sleep, but it was deactivated…
But my plans were again ascerbated…
Don’t come to hospital, sufferers are told…
The hospitals are so busy, shemozzled,
My plans, ideas, & hopes have been sphacelated,
Flu-R is so bad that I’m dumbfounded,
If I stood up, moved or even quetched,
Ailments these last two days have quintuplicated!
I feel my designs have been mancipated,
My thoughts could do with being manumitted,
shame, embarrassment, teeth always gritted!
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Today, I felt as if I was apprenticing…
Coping with this new bug or flu and learning,
I rang 111 to ask what I could be taking?
To counter the constant sneezing?
My heavy breathing and wheezing?
My impossibility to get any sleep in?
Can I take an alcoholic drinkie?
To counter the phlegm & blubbering?
NHS 111 said don’t take Aspirin…
Cause you’re on Finasteride & Warfarin,
Well, that was not very informing!
Then they added I’m not to go to hospital…
Doreen Dementia understood it was elemental,
I considered bringing up my mental problems.
The line went dead; it was pretty comical!
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Figures show urgent and emergency services, with 98,118 ambulances handed over to hospitals last week and 495,442 calls received by NHS 111. No wonder they are struggling to cope with the stampede!
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I’m fed up with this bug! Tsk!

Inchy: Sat/Sun 18-19th January 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

– – – Sunday 15:00hrs – – –
On Saturday, I got as far as doing the Ode header below and  kicked off. They came thicker and faster than they ever have before. I could concentrate on nothing, and time lost all meaning. Made worse when joined in, and the rest of the day was lost in more than one way.
I believe I must have had a mammoth seizure in the afternoon. Why? I’ll tell you, well, I’ll try.
I returned to semi-reality and found that the list of words I was to use to use, with hundreds of words on it, had disappeared from the computer. I searched all the Notepad files. Then, I searched everywhere else, thinking I may have saved the update to the wrong folder or file. I stopped to send off the Friday Blog. Then, I decided I’d start a new word list for the rhymes. I spent five hours selecting and saving the words to Notepad or Notes now; I think it may be called.
I got into the hospital bed, then after an hour or so, got up again and went back onto the computer to add to the list. Stooped and got the ablutions & medicationings done.
I worked through it until Carer Shaquille arrived. Then, at about 08:15hrs, I went back to them.
I stopped when Carer Maryham arrived. I told her about my all-night marathon and showed her I’d lost the word list. I found on WordPress that I’d also lost the template for Sunday!
So, I wrote this script to explain the situation.
I will ask a Carer on Monday to phone the Doctor. I can’t go on like this. Anne Gyna, Siezures Sandra, camera kaputt. I burnt my hand on Saturday on the new oven, and the pain from Catheter Cathy’s contraption tube is so bad that I’ve taken off the protective pants I put on this morning. And it’s so cold today, but I’d sooner have the cold than extra pain. I think.
I’m going to continue making the word list. I will carefully click on ‘save’ regularly. If I feel a seizure coming on, which I sometimes do, I’ll try to stop working immediately.
Then, time permitting, I’ll finish the Government Ode and post this off. It could be near midnight, but I may have problems staying awake to do it.
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They’re all blended now, a political purple…
Labavatives & Conserabours, both in trouble
Their Differences were once clearly distinguishable.
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Their ideals previously unalterable,
Now, they seem to be easily adsorbable,
Shared, swapped, most adaptable,
Labour defended the most susceptible,
Which I found to be accreditable, 
Keirs stealing from the pensionable,
Naturally, I felt it was cruel and abominable…
Apprehensible, it should make him arrestable!
Pensioners & farmers, easily fleeceable,
More a Conservative than any Tory, incredible!
As PM, he is no longer creditable,
Taking backhanders, lying; it’s incomprehensible!
He might have a title, but he’s not Honourable,
Labour’s honest values are gone, irretrievable,
Starmer’s actions are unbelievable!
Bent HMG rules mean he’s not convictable,
He’s blind despite his freebies apposable,
To the damage he’s done as our apical.
Ruling his timocracy like a cockwomble,
His lies & fiddles are shown to be confutable,
I hope he’s visited by someone paradisiacal!
Old Father Time, or ran over by a Tournapull,
I’m sorry for being misanthropical,
I find Keir incomprehensible and enigmatical!
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Not feeling too good now.
But so glad I got the ode done. It is not one of my best; it was written with a bit of angst at my stupidity of losing all the work and being unable to calm Ane Gyna down.
Huh! I just wrote this, and she’s slowed down, and each stab of pain seems to be less bothersome than the previous one… at long last. I wish for this and hope.

Sunday night now, and I will get a meal of some sort and do my best to get some much-needed sleep.

I was sitting watching the TV… well, I was initially, but within ten minutes, I was in the land of nod. Carer Carer surprisingly made the last call. I was a bit out of it, mentally. It was so lovely to see her again, but what was said was a jumbled mixture of odd bits that I could remember. I struggled to gear back to the bliss of sleep. No , but I recognised that my own thoughts were about why the gal had to do extra shifts. I presume that Carer Richard is not in a good situation with his diabetic problems and may have knocked off work. If so, he will be suffering at home. He’s been struggling himself lately. I hope he is okay. Also, I hope Carer Joanne is getting better; she was not very well on her last visit the other day. Many people have this cold-weather bug to contend with; Joanne has catheter problems, & her coughing and wheezing concern me. But I was still glad to see Kara again.

Eventually, I got up and made a meal of sorts, fish balls, onions and Milk Roll sliced bread with a BBQ tomato sauce dip. I found approximately 4 empty bags of onion rings, and a Marmite crisps in the wastebasket.

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Bye-for-Now!
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Saturday 11th January 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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A FULL BREAKDOWN OF KEIR (Pensioner Killer) STARMER’s £84k OF FREEBIES

Sir Keir and wife Victoria beam after bagging free £4000 Taylor Swift tickets: In summer 2023, Sir Keir was treated to a week in accommodation for four people in beauty spot the Gower Peninsula worth £4,500.

While planning his lies-ridden election triumph in July, Sir Keir welcomed many gifts and hospitality with open arms, including designer clothes, glasses, and tickets to several football matches. Keir and his wife, Ms Reeves and Rayner, also received donations for work outfits. In June, the deputy prime minister, Ms Rayner, received a £3,550 donation for work clothing from Lord Alli. Rachel Reeves £380k freebie and payments as she scrapped pensioners’ Winter Fuel Allowance.

In October 2023 and February 2024, he was given £10,000 and then £6,000 respectively from Lord Alli.

In April, Lord Ali gave Keir £16,200 for ‘Work Clothing’ £16,200.

Sir Keir has also received accommodation worth £20,437 between May 29 before the election and July 13 after the win.

Lord Alli treated Sir Keir’s wife, Victoria, to approximately £5K worth of clothes. The clothes are understood to have been at Lord Alli’s £18 million London penthouse, which would have cost £444 per night if he had stayed there daily.

Accommodation for four on the Gower Peninsula. Set up by Rod Lloyd. Value: £4.400.

Arsenal fan Sir Keir received tickets and hospitality totalling around £19,000 for twelve football matches from August 2023 to June this year, including nine when his beloved London  Arsenal team was playing.

Sir Keir enjoyed a Taylor Swift concert in the Premier League. As for social events, Sir Keir was one of five Labour MPs who declared freebies at Taylor Swift concerts.

The Prime Minister declared the gift of four hospitality tickets from the Premier League to see the Shake It Off singer at Wembley Stadium in June, at an estimated value of £4,000.

Sir Keir also received four tickets to the Jingle Bell Ball with hospitality from Global Media and Entertainment Ltd. last December, worth £800.

In May, the National Theatre treated Keir to four tickets to see Nye worth £358.

The only freebie not accepted was a bottle of Vinegar from Nottingham blogger Inchy. Rejected when it was discovered it contained arsenic. Value: 49p

Sir Keir’s Football Freebies Since August 2023:

Crystal Palace Football Club – Three tickets with hospitality for Crystal Palace v Arsenal, valued at £2,142

Swansea City AFC – Five tickets with hospitality for Swansea City v Bournemouth, valued at £800

Cain International UK Services Ltd – Two tickets with hospitality to the Chelsea vs Arsenal football match, valued at £2,400

Teescraft Engineering Ltd – Four tickets with hospitality for Newcastle United v Arsenal, valued at £1,000

West Ham United Football Club – Two tickets for pre-match hospitality in the Chairperson Lounge and to the match, valued at £2,000 (estimated)

Norwich City Football Club – Four match tickets and hospitality, valued at £820

Premier League – Five tickets with hospitality to Arsenal vs Porto, value £3,000

Manchester City Football Club – Hospitality and match tickets for two people to Man City vs Arsenal, valued at £900. 

Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club, four tickets and hospitality to Brighton vs Arsenal, valued at £500.

Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club – Four tickets and hospitality to Arsenal vs Wolverhampton Wanderers value £1,488 (approximate)

Tottenham Hotspur Ltd – Five tickets and hospitality to Tottenham Hotspur vs Arsenal, value £2,500 (approx).

Manchester United: Two tickets in the Directors Box, with dining at Old Trafford. v Arsenal. Valued at £1800.

The only freebie rejected was a bottle of Vinegar offered by blogger Inchy. It was found to contain arsenic. Value 39p

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TO BE OR NOT TO BE…
To be or not to be beheaded…
Be hung, poisoned or electrocuted,
Shot, walk the plank or be guillotined,
For you have killed, murdered…
The UK death penalty was abolished,
Life sentence, murderers are pleased,
After 3 years, many have been released,
Now, HMP workers are beleaguered,
Freeing killers just to save money,
I know it will lead to anarchy,
Murderers are just let free early,
To kill again, by HMG; approvingly!
They’ve tried things, therapeutically,
Chop off rapist choppers antiseptically,
Else, there’ll be disorder, catastrophe,
Pandemonium, bedlam, antipathy,
Course, this is only advisory…
Could we start with someone miserly?
By winter’s end, he’ll have killed so many,
I refer, to Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer,
Who I hear wears a willie-warmer…
Keir will have murdered many a pensioner,
By the end of this freezing winter,
Drove to suicide many a farmer,
His defence? He’s caught habromania?
The man’s a shyster, & a proven liar,
I’m sorry if I sound like an inveigher,
We must get rid of this political vulture,
If we don’t stop him, he’ll kill more for sure,
I advise him to wear his Kevlar!
I’m a bit of transcendental augurer,
But indications of the future for Starmer,
It is vague & as confusing as Keir’s hylomania, 
It’s hard to read such a hornswoggler…
I’ve been depressed so heretofore,
Suddenly, I want to live longer…
Long enough to see him go to the hereafter!
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I returned to an imitation, pseudo-pretend life at 04:00hrs, with the regular springing awake and waiting for Diabetic Doreen to sort out my cerebrum and get that to work in a guise or manner that would allow me to realise that it was really 04:00hrs and work out what day it was. Then, I tackled the nocturnal catheter pouch disconnecting. Which was a more straightforward job this morning. Since I’d drifted off to sleep in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner last night, and didn’t make it to the bed. Carer Chris, who did the last call last night. Christ got the large quilt from the bed and over me. He knew I would never get to the bed, he said, this morning. Apparently, I was in a seizure when he arrived. I was muttering, struggling to get words out, and not really with it. The lad’s reading me now that he knows about my ailments and how they sometimes affect me.

I grabbed and limped into the kitchen, with a sudden feeling from my EQ that I may have left the taps running, the fridge or freezer door open, or the oven on last night in my overtired slumber. EQ is rarely wrong. Sadly, he wasn’t this morning, either. Getting into that kitchen gave me more than one surprise this morning. First, the windows had iced up, the temperature was -5°c, and the freezer door had, as I feared, been left open! 
I had to throw away some of the partially defrosted food. On the bright side, less food went into the bin than when I left the freezer door ajar last time. (Two days ago) Tsk!
For the outside of the window glass, I got some paper towelling and wiped it to see through it. And there, even for my eyes to see, high in the sky, was the Moon and two planets in view, Jupiter and Venus, if I remember correctly. Despite the freezing ice on my hands and in the air, I decided to get the Kodak to try and get a decent shot of the Moon and planets. These are the best of them to make it to the SD card. Four did not? I still can’t determine what I’m doing wrong to make so many photographs disappear.  
I looked into the internal photos on the camera, but they were not there.
I could see the planets in every shot I took; I had my reading glasses on to see the screen on the Kodak camera.
However, some, like the SD card, did not reach the end product again. Yet some did, turning up on the SD card. Was it instilled and installed by the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which I’m already battling with Diabetic Doreen Dementia and Cogniscent Impairment Iris, to keep my marbles? Unglesitknangles!

I meandered to the wet room, returned to make sure I’d shut the freezer door after cleaning up, returned to the wet room, and deposited myself on the WC. Where I stayed for a while. Because an “It’ll come anytime now” type of sensation lingered for ages. All I managed to clear was several incontrollable blasts of wind. So, I gave up, despite that nagging doubt that it just may spurt of its own accord remained with me. I had a wash & shave, medicated various body parts in need, got fresh PPs on, and made up the waste bags. (The photo didn’t show on the SD card – Humph!)

Whatever happened to the day? Where did it go? I recall Carer Joanne coming, and we were having a laugh.
I know I had just a few of
earlier, I thought I was in one when Joanne was here. But she said nothing. When we were both laughing at my struggle to get words out and forgetting what I was talking about, as we joked and laughed, I’m sure of it. Well…
Later, while taking a break from the arduosity of getting the blog done, I checked the camera and a photo I knew nothing about until I viewed it, and it came back to me. Anyway, here it is.
The frost and ice are still there, and at 1°c, I’m not surprised.
The balcony door cracked as the ice fell off. Not looking too good.

I made a JS order for next week. Tried to keep it low, but as usual, I had to go over the £40 limit in case they had something out of stock. That puts me in line for a delivery charge.

Back on the blog, I realised that they were coming thick and fast. Some seemed to last only a few seconds, and I felt giddiness a few times between each one. But I coped with them in the morning without any real bother, which I find positive. When they first started hitting me, they fritted and unsettled me. Now, this change is getting me a smidge worried. I’ll phone 111 in the morning, no, on Monday, and ask for advice.

On a more positive note, tonight, my urine is a much better, lighter colour. It still stinks, though. I must get on with the blog. I’m taking too long on the odes or making them too long. Even two days ago, I worked on one until three in the morning. I can’t help it. I love doing them. Sad, because they’re not good.

The sun did come out today, as it was about to disappear over the horizon. The frost is now mostly melted, but not in the areas the sun did not reach.
I thought at first that they looked like snow clouds. When Carer Chris came, I heated a steak pastie, told him it would soon snow, and showed him this picture of the clouds. He looked at his computer on his phone, and the weather forecast didn’t mention snow. So much for my humble and wrong predictions. Hahaha! 

I continued with this blog. Amazingly,
gave me rest after Chris had been and medicated me, had his nibble and a can of pop. It took him about ten seconds to see off the steak pastie. It was unexpected to him, and he enjoyed it so much. Which cheered me up, too. 

I was not doing very well in the concentration stakes, then, aha, another summoning from the innards arrived; 
Get yourself to the wet room post haste! So I did just that. But it was all in vain again! I must have spent another half-hour on the Throne. Grunting as I tried my bestest to urge and encourage something to move… But no! For the second time today, Zilch moved. I’m hoping that by taking a prescription powder immediately, I shall have a third visit, which might be a success. Otherwise, especially after eating my meal later on, my innards may just blow up or explode!

I’m getting beyond the capability of concentration now. I shall maketh a meal. Blimey, the higher clouds have changed so much now. Still beautiful.

Meatless pork sausages, chestnuts, and tomatoes. Six slices of Milk Roll bread, one for each sausage, and a dip of BBQ Tomato ketchup. Two desserts: Lemon and custard and jelly.

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BONUS STARMER BASHING ODE!
Don’t let Starmer get you depressed,
Despite pensioners he attacked,
In free-clothes, he gets dressed,
And the lies that he’s amassed,
Starmer, being a backhander & biased…
The farmers he has tax-bushwhacked,
As PM, he should be uninstalled,
The man is totally unscrupled,
The Torie are beyond being annealed,
Leaving Starmer with an open field…
To do as he likes, unimpeded,
At no.10, he’s firmly bivouacked,
His lies & gift-taking have been obsignated,
Surely he must now be prescited?
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Farewell, & Look after Yourself.
If farmer or pensioner cause…
STARMER WON’T!

Inchy: Friday 10th January 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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When I snuff it, will I get theosophy?
Or be greeted by nothingness, dimly?
I don’t ask these questions grimly,
Will St Peter be there to greet me?
Will I be sent to Heaven of Hell…
Is there a difference? Who can tell?
Will Hell be running a brothel…Does 
Does Heaven have a mosque or Chapel?
What will they do to a dead infidel,
Will I see Hitler or Oliver Cromwell,
Will I still have a catheter bag or navel?
Are Heaven & Hell both topological?
Sometimes, I hope they will be real?
Will they both be parallel or mutual?
Will they serve tea, coffee or oenomel?
Will we see Angels, anything celestial?
Will we see relatives or a pet poodle?
Grizelda, will we be able to canoodle?
Get reborn to see another crepuscle?
Will the St. Peters interview be conflictual?
Have to go through a validity ritual?
Have the same problems cardiological?
Will Dementia still be in situ, cerebral?
Arthur Itis, FND, PN be there? It’s credible,
Will we at least resemble being corporeal?
Will we be negative, nervous, or joyful?
Whether Hell or Heaven, dying is awful,
Being sent back to earth is too stressful!
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Went to Kip late. Got up late again at 06:00hrs
Nocturnal pouch removed.

I amalgamated three of the waste bags into one.

First-morning view from the kitchen.
Not too good.
I tried to get a decent shot of Devonshire Ave.
I didn’t manage it. Tsk! Temp -3ºc.

Food Delivery.
Sods, bread rolls, sausages & fresh peas.
I had to empty the box of battered fish balls into the freezer to get them to fit in it!

The fridge is not as full this time, but still too full! I got some of the beef in gravy in a pouch again. Yeehaa!

A fine mix of fodder. Beef in stout gravy, sausages, pasties, tomatoes, frank’s, jacket and roasting potatoes, & jellies.

Carer Chris arrived. He did his thing and was about to put on the diabetic socks, but I stopped him and said I was going to do my ablutions and shower first. He told me he would make the next call and get the socks and catheter contraption replaced then. But he did not come! Luckily, Carer Joeanne did; she fitted the catheter and put my socks on for me.

In between   , they were a bit more bothersome again, but they seemed to keep giving me little breaks now and then. How kind.

Over the next hour, I took three shots of the sky.

I was miles behind with the blogging but persevered, as any other young, athletic, fit, good-looking man would. 

Sunsetting.

It’s getting late, dark, it’s getting colder…

Time for some fodder.

Beef in stout gravy, sausages, potatoes.
Two cheesy bread rolls to soak up the gravy.

Washed up, and as I climbed into 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 to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, Sweet Morpheus took me. A few minutes of bliss enveloped me…. not only that, but was noticeable by his absence! 
Then Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, gently mind.
Without me moving, he put the nocturnal catheter bag on. Gave me the medication and seemed to drift off, like an angel back to the clouds. I had been drinking shandy after the meal, so I may have been mildly tipsy; I don’t know. More likely that I was under the influence of . It all felt surreal.

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Life is like an avenue,
Lined with hatred, little affettuoso,
Filled with the unexpected blanscue,
Daily selections of bugaboo…
Oligarach rule, the financial hullaballo,
Conning the proletariat & ingenue,
Rulers rulings, decisions are impromptu.
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TTFN, Best to all of you!
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Inchy: Thursday 9th January 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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The fleetingness of life, so often a worry…
Well, it was years ago, death? Not in a hurry,
But existence now is endured abrasively,
Manipulated by the rich, the Oligarchy,
No race is safe, Peruvian, Welsh or Aussie,
One thing humankind perfected is bigotry,
Another is war, killing mercilessly…
Wars, for some, show profitability,
The greed, hatred, jealousy and irony,
Rulers lead, aloof, so conceitedly,
Faith, hope, love entwined with devilry,
Gone is eloquency, cometh exorbitancy,
Some exist thanks to eleemosynary,
Others believe in & practice diablery,
Some will see their end euphorically!
A few accept it, but sycophantishly,
I greet it as being somnipathy…
Death, commonsense, but with speciosity,
I’ve not lived brainlessly, injudiciously,
I’d had my moments of irresponsibility,
Albeit, at times, a smidge unintelligently,
My brain once worked reliably…
Doreen Dementia turned it into sciosophy,
Now it works partly-theoretically,
I can no longer have sex or even pee…
Do you think I’m searching for sympathy?
Of this, I may well be found guilty!
I am available as a Grandfather adoptee,
I make a grand mug of Glengettie tea!
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SISTER JANE & INCHY
1952ish
SISTER JANE & INCHY2018ish
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I woke around 04:00hrs. I lay there in the hospital bed, doing my darndest to get back to sleep. Refusing to get up and face the world, I was determined to nod off again.
Unfortunately, came on strong. I spent until 05:45hrs in misery, feeling incapable, lost, and guilty, self-hatred, confident-shattering thoughts bought up in response to TST’s ever-nagging, fault-finding, insulting torrent of bad memories. 05:50:hrs, I gave up trying to sleep.

After removing the nocturnal catheter pouch, I saw this one was a 7 on the NHS Urinometer Scale. Got myself up on my feet, the usual complaints from and . And were the worst of the ailments initially.

I grabbed it and set off for the wet room, I needed the Throne. Fearing another session with pain was imminent after the rock-hard torpedo evacuation yesterday. I gritted my teeth as I sat on the plastic seat… This was unexpected; the Karki mush splattered everywhere and was finished within a few seconds. This was so quick I anticipated a second helping would follow shortly.
I removed the thick Protection Pants from Amazon, only to find I’d made a mess all over the mats and floor. The inner padding had split open again! What a mess! I cleaned the splashed-over WC basin but could not vacuum over the mats and floor as it was too early. I hate the thought that I might disturb my neighbours. Got some fresh PPs on. Now, I must remember to clean the room later – I logged in with the brain to record this message. Which was hopeful, if not futile. Of course, I didn’t remember! (As of 23:10hrs)

After washing up after the session, the hands looked much improved compared to Wednesday’s. Carer Sam thinks it must be something I used for cleaning.

I went to the kitchen to check the taps, cooker, fridge, and freezer doors. All were okay this morning. Then, I took three photos of the morning sky. The first one, I think, was blurry as I didn’t expect it to be so cold out there. The outside thermometer read -3°c. The second of roughly the same view came out better. Then I noticed two planets in the sky, the left one bigger than the right one… or was it the other way around. I’m confused cause I could not see them in the photos taken.
I did my best to get a closer shot of the planets. I think Tim Price said they would have been Venus & Pluto. Not a reasonable effort or result. Mayhap I rushed this one cause I was getting cold. Hehe!

I changed into a thicker, warmer dressing gown and changed the day, date and time on my super new Korean 1969-made calendar clock. 

Carer Sam arrived. We had a little laugh and nattering session. Then, we sorted out my medications and put on my diabetic socks. All are recorded in the log.

I took this photo of the bottom field below the tree copse, barren of people and dogs. A rarity indeed! The temperature had gone up to -2°c. I checked on the pickled mushroom and water chestnuts in the fridge. I think they need a day or two longer, and I added a bit of basil to the jar.

Carer Same returned. Tablets only this time. I took an extra effervescent paracetomal and Codiene 30g. Because had been joined and assisted in giving me pain by . Who was back on form with her chest wandering stabs of pain. I would have to be the two top pain-givers at the same time. Minutes after writing these words, started tugging, 
‘Well, fancy said’, I said.
I dug out some Cortesteroid cream, girded my loins, and rubbed in the bream. I may have cursed a smidgeon and nearly spat. Something like ‘Oh, bother it!”

I caught sight of the state of the leading junk room. This needs urgent rectification. Tidying up, sorting out. This reminded me of the wetroom that needs some attention cleaning-wise as well. I’ve not done any of them as yet. But at least I’ve made plans to do them! Ahem!

The sun is coming out now.
But it doesn’t seem to be melting the rooftops yet.
I’ll look at the temperature… it shows as 0.1°c.

I got the blog for Wednesday updated and posted. I started on CorelDraw to set up the photos taken this morning.
For some reason, whatever that is, CorelDraw is really going mega-slow. I ran CCleaner, hoping things would improve. I did the same via Norton straight afterwards. These runs cost me over an hour to get done. Coreldraw is still slow, but I think it is not as slow as initially. Then again, what do I know.

I started on this blog a long time ago. But it was slow-going, and later, I showed the pictures of the fire on Wednesday’s blog to Carer Christopher when he arrived. I found six grammar or spelling errors that I’d missed. I corrected them somewhat belatedly. Maybe I should just cut it down to a Cartoon, the BP, and a daily ode? But I love waffling and doing this diary.  

,  and 
, all three, which had eased off a little, all returned with a vengeance. I lost another hour or so, so concentrating on the blog was impossible. I pottered about in the kitchen doing nothing much but convinced myself I was.

17:35hrs: Carer Christopher arrived on the next-to-last call of the day. 
He sorted the medications. I showed him the photos of the fire and found all the mistakes I’d made in Wednesday’s blog that needed correcting. Brungleclogs! Incredibly, the lad gets calls from Nigeria every time he calls. How the World has changed.
I recall having to find a telephone box, ensuring I had three pennies to use. Press button A, and if the call did not get through or answered, press button B to get my 3d back. Stack of telephone number books in there. The posters were adorned with sex-workers numbers, among others. That distinctive smell was present in all telephone boxes.

Ah, memories! 

I must press on with this blog. Excuse me while I do.
An hour has passed, and I feel overdrained and somewhat hungry. Tired & kicked in again! Sob! 

Battered Fish Balls…
With Marmite cheese, pickled beetroot, cheese-topped bread rolls with no-butter butter, & slices of tomatoes.
Followed by a cream lime dessert.
And very tasty, it was too!
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Take Care & Keep Safe!
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Inchys Horrendous Wednesday 8th January 2025

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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A STAB AT STARMER?
He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral!
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After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised.
When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.

I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on.
Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe!
I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the .
So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony!
Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! 
Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers.
They were becoming a bit itchy, too.
As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.

No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead.
The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.

It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. 
Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!

I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.

Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;

First sighting as I put the kettle on.
Is it a fire or not…
No Fire Brigade response yet.
Still no brigade.
Is it looking worse?
No response.
It’s dying down a bit, I think.

Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.

I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99.
And blow me, the fire was smoking again.
I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there.
I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!

I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website.
Very regrettably, I clicked the link… 

ARGH!
I WAS HACKED!
The computer went to full screen and froze!

The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.

Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’

They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now!
Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! 
As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again!
Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?

I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.

Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.

It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did!
Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with.
I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). 
They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone.   
Then, they went above and beyond…
They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that.
Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. 
The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. 
I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back! 

It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.

It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!

It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before.
Maybe never any.

I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.

A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her. Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.

Good Morning…
Late Carer came.

TTFN

Inchy: Tuesday 7th January 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I may be depressed & flat bound,
Perhaps I ought to be in a compound,
Doreen Dementia gives me the runaround,
And how little do you get for a pound?
Starmer is seeking self-wealth,
Rather like a bloodhound,
Me? I’d like some good health,
There’s more I’d like to expound,
I feel like I’m disallowed & disavowed,
Forcefully repudiated, denied, disowned,
Life used to be a playground,
Now, it’s a survival-free battleground,
Oligarchs & criminals seem to abound,
Animals like Starmer got empowered…
I need 2 hours to get shaved & showered!
My hopes are flattered & floundered,
I get worn out after I’ve hoovered,
I’m mentally & physically encumbered,
Rotting teeth, angina, bald-headed…
My common sense long ago defected, 
Violence and wars cannot be reined,
What’s more, I can’t get my TV started?
Starmer should be helped, assisted…
He should be airfreighted…
Go to Rwanda and get bayonetted!
Not fatally, just a painfully bloodied…
Come back and be treated by the NHS!
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ANOTHER BUST DAY 
It’d be about 0550hrs when I blossomed cheerfully, gaily, bursting into song, leapt out of bed, did a few hundred press-ups in the freezing balcony, and waved at the seagulls. I’d turned back into the fun-loving, delicate, humorous, beguiling young man I am.
Oh, alright then, I didn’t.
0550hrs: woke me up, and I passed a mammoth blast of wind from my rear-end and detached the from the day bag. I did a pretend imitation job of tidying the bed and took the BP readings. It was a Normal-High reading this morning. Yesterday, I had a ‘Hyper’ result. But that’s not so unusual. I often get one or two a week, and it usually bounces down again.

I grabbed , and went in the kitchen. What a fantastic hue the morning view offered me. I was, to me, more green than black of blue. The clouds seemed larger this time.

The intercom sounded as I was about to get the kettle on the boil. I realised then that I had an Asda order coming today. And so it was. I gingerly gathered the boxes and carriers I used to put the food into at delivery.
 I opened the door, and the driver seemed agreeable to putting the things in boxes and bags for me; bless him. As I took a carrier to put down the hallway… ailment number nine gave way. I tumbled to my right side, catching my nose against the corner of the wall. I don’t know how he did it, but the driver was through the door and prevented me from falling in a flash. A Hero! I’ve tried to get to the Asda site four times to offer my appreciation. All failed!

I got the food & cleaning things put away. Taking a couple of photos as I went along. The first one on the right shows fresh cream strawberry jam French Horns. Naughty, but so nice! 
The second snap shows potato cakes, cheesy potato balls, green tomato and onion pickled, and water chestnuts. I will try to home-pickle the chestnuts and some of the mushrooms tomorrow. I also got a can of lip balm for my cracked lip, saving the day again later. I like a Mystery, Hehehe! I stored the cleaners away and decided not to have a mug of tea but to get my ablutions done. I got the needed clothing and poddled off to the wet room. No Throne yet! I started with the fingernails, then got the shaving done. As far as I could tell, I was breaking a record here; a second morning of a cutless shave… I thought!
As I started the body wash, I felt the blood running down my lips and mouth. I looked in the shaving mirror, and a thin, tiny trickle of the red stuff flowed from my nostrils!
It seemed the leak point was slightly up inside my nose. Now, I could not even get the razor up there. It never poured but came persistently for one and a half hours.
Getting dressed and doing the body parts medicationings was interrupted by me having to keep dabbing at the blood. 
I wondered if I had done it when taking the tumble on the corner of the wall. I’ll never know. Hahaha! Better to go into a and claim a victory in getting no shaving cuts for two days! I moved into Level Two. Hehe!
Finished the medicating and got the PPs & clothing on, not without some bother and a little pain.

Finally, I got onto the computer. Only to find that my memory and concentration had gone to pot when I started writing on the day’s ode. This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. Carer Chloe arrived as the nose began bleeding again, not that it mattered at all; I wasn’t getting anywhere with it anyway. 
Humph & Granknangles!

Carer Chloe was concerned about my bleeding nose. She looked closely at it and asked if I had Vaseline to put on it. Then I remembered the Vaseline lip balm that had been delivered this morning. I got it from the drawer and put some on my nose and lips. The blood flow did decrease. Clever gal, Chloe! ♥ Chloe departed, saying she was coming back on a domestic call. I thanked her and bade her well.

I’m not doing well with my Ode here, so I went on CorelDraw to catch up on the photos. I was struggling. At one time, I thought the near tumble might have been caused by a reaction. Concentrating was so hard, and I guess the ode would not come out so well this time.

I’m assuming that came over me. Or, it’s possible I fell asleep… No, no, that’s impossible, come think of it. Because when I came back, a fair bit had been done on this blog. Enough for it to have taken me a couple of hours to get done. Teo hours had evaporated, and it took ages to do the amending and correcting the bloopers & mistakes made. I had a break and glass of lemonade, emptied the day pouch, and took two photos from the blooming cold balcony. The mudslide in the far car park was a lot smaller now. 
And one of the sky to the West and Wales. The clouds colouring rather impressed me.
Chloe returned. Then I realised that the nose had stopped running altogether, thanks to Chloe.
We decided what needed doing flatwork-wise, and she made a start. I think I kept talking to her, but what about is not available to Doreen Dementias’s memory now. Ah, I’ll check on the memory notepad. No, nothing was readable, and not much was on the pad. Tsk! 

After Chloe had gone, they started again, but they were all really short, as far as I can tell. Offputting but copable within the safety of being indoors.

I tried out the microwave roast potato bag for the first time. I just put in one bag… no, one potato. Mind you, I also only put it in one bag. I think I nearly lost the plot, theme and my sanity there! Hurrmph! 

I was working hard on this blog. I’m using this work too often, but I am struggling. I was going at it while the seizures were taking a break and suddenly noticed that the sunset was about to disappear, so I got the Kodak.

Beautiful!
I was awestruck.
What lovely nature…
Did my best, and for once, they came decent.

Carer Chris arrived. Medications were given.
We had a chat, he had a drink & nibble. Haha!

An hour or so later. I decided to try out the oven potato bag for the microwave. Oh, dear, the writing on the bag made me nervous, well, reading it did. I’ve copied it here:
WARNING

CONTENTS AND BAG MAY BE HOT – USE CAUTION
READ INSTRUCTION GUIDE CAREFULLY BEFORE USE.
IMPROPER USE MAY RESULT IN FIRE-MICROWAVE ONLY
DO NOT use in conventional oven.
DO NOT Microwave for more than 3 minutes at a time.
DO NOT heat on high
DO NOT do not use in microwave xithout food
DO NOT do not expose to naked flame
DO NOT leave microwave unattended during use
DO NOT do not place Potato Express™ near a hot surface
DO NOT do not cook oily or fried foods
Use only normal-sized potatoes!

I was scared stiff to use it!
Photo during cooking.
I PUT ONE LARGE POTATO IN.
What is a normal-sized potato?
Cooked it for 4 minutes – rock hard.
Gave it another 4-minutes. hard
Then, another minute.
Then, another minute.
And it still wasn’t ready.
I gave up and had a bag of crisps!
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WHAT A VIEW!
I stayed looking at this scene for a few minutes. I was so engrossed just viewing it, I didn’t realise I was getting rained on. You just have to see the funny side. Hahaha!
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Going to phone the Doctor in the morning about these seizures. I told her the first time they appeared, and I was more or less told that many people with FND and PN have them.  I felt guilty taking up her time.

NOSH
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TTFNski, all the bestest!
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