Inchys Ode

Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime, 
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
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05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet.  Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale). 
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Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

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🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling. 
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Monday 28th April 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Teeth, physical and mental decay…
Tea for me, not spirits or Chardonnay,
An unnatural interest in doomsday…
Armageddon, & Heavens Gateway,
Not now and then, but every day!
And the seizures, causing mind disarray,
I spoke of these things earlier today…
To the Doctor, who showed no dismay,
She’ll send the Matron to see me one day,
A mid whirling away with quixotry,
I may be a visionary, but eccentrically,
Veering at times to idealistically, romantically,
I talk to myself morosely & querimoniously,
Questioningly, enquiry, feedback? Uncertainty,
How does my mind work? Well, wontedly!
Options & choices made unintentionally,
This realisation can bring on despondency,
I’m more interested in the pain from my weenie,
I’ve awaited the catheter bag job since Friday,
Carer ‘Joe’ did it yesterday, all nice and tidy,
I can now be called a Pfropfschizophrenie,
If this classification is given to me,
10 days wait, affected Little Inchie hurtfully,
And rear-end furuncle hurts excruciatingly,
Well, not really, there’s been no lachrymosity,
But unexpected signs of lugubriosity.
Mild depression and a hint of melancholy,
Depression Duncan & High Horis are legendary,
They rule my emotions alternatively,
Duncan’s visits seem to last an eternity…
High Horis’s calls are more synoptically…
Which is another thing that’s a pity,
Things to do hygienically, well, hyperbolically,
Just the furuncle to be doctored, ointmentedly,
Oh, I must not forget to medicate Little Inchie,
And give Gladys Glaucoma’s eyes a spray,
Then, empty my pouch of pee,
Then I might do a spot of gymnosophy,
Make food to satiate my gulosity…
Hello… Two visitors from the constabulary!
If not arrested, I’ll tell the story on Tuesday!
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MY MENTAL CHANGES!

Pre-morbid cognitive Impairment: Refers to cognitive deficits present before the onset of a particular illness or disorder, such as a psychotic disorder or dementia. It’s essentially an estimate of a person’s cognitive functioning before any known or suspected brain damage or dysfunction. Measuring pre-morbid functioning is crucial for accurately assessing the impact of a disorder on cognitive abilities, as it provides a baseline for comparing and evaluating the disorder’s effects. Regarding my mental assessments, I’ve had a few; here is a list for your reference.
2015: Vascular Dementia
2017: Diabetic Dementia
2019: Mixed Dementia.
2022: Posterior Cortical Atrophy 
2023: Cognitive Impairment
And now…
2025: Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment
I assume the nurse coming to ‘Do an assessment test’ may just be related to the latest Pre-Morbid version?
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Gone 17:00hrs Already.
Quickie from here on.
I got carried away with the Ode again! Of course, the Whoopsie & first aiding slowed me down.
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In short…
Graded later by Carer Ejaz.

A sit-down visit first
It only took me 20 minutes this morning.
ROCK SOLID!

ABLUTIONINGS
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 1:
Carer Ejaz did not mention the blood on my dressing gown and down my face and legs when he arrived. But midday Carer ‘Joe’ did five hours later. He wiped what he could and asked me how I managed to cut myself nine times. I had no answer. But we did have a bit of a laugh.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 2:
Moving the catheter pouch to clean it, I let it slip, and the weight of the urine caused… what can I call it? Well, agony as it tugged on Little Inchie! The blood flowed. The applying and rubbing in was painful. Then again, it always is.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 3:
I was pressing on with the teeth, then shaving, and almost finished when the blood dripped onto my man breasts! Tried the Brut aftershave to stem the flow. It was a smidge futile.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 4:
After finishing the cleaning and addressing various areas that needed medicating, I started applying the fresh PPS. I got the shakes as I was using the picker-upperer to raise them, Clanger! As I grabbed the stick, the wobble began. The prongs went straight through the material, hitting poor little Inchie right on the end and the fungal lesion. Agony did not cover the situation this time.
More medication, more hurt, and more frustration.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 5:
Then the pains started from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as well as the base furuncle!
I considered sobbing a little but didn’t bother.

As I came out of the wet room, I realised I’d been in there for an hour And a half as Carer Ejaz arrived.
He did not notice the bleeding head, neck or blood down my leg. And I’d forgot all about it too. Haha!..
I nipped into the wet room again to wipe some blood off. Of course, it came back on later.
Ejaz put the short diabetic socks on my legs. Then, he issued the prescription medications.

Photos taken, not many.
The end car park shot, just as yesterday, proved that we required rain… PPPlease!
I took this one through the kitchenette window. The shadows on the house were from the block of flats. The sun coming from behind.
Well, there was no blood when I checked on the legs now, so the furuncle and fugal lesions must have stopped. Carer ‘Joe’ did the midday call. He wiped the semi-dried blood from… wait for it… the top of my head! I don’t shave the head; no need to. He also noticed that I had cut a facial mole on my cheek and an earlobe.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 6:
I’d been on the computer toying with the Ode to try and get it something like I was hoping for. I took this photo of the calendar clock. I made a mug of Co-op 99 tea, I pressed on for another hour or more to finish it, but I wasn’t too happy with the result. I wished I’d left it as it was now. Made a mug of Glengettie tea
Getting back to the computer, I noticed the time on the clock was 07:35hrs? I can’t have been. I was in the wet room, crippling myself at that time. Then, being the youthful, educated, logical, keen, alert, conscientious person that I am… I checked the clock, and it was still showing the same time. Quick as lightning, I realised that the battery must have run out. Nae, problemo! I knew I got some… somewhere in the flat. The drawer that I knew I’d put them in was in the kitchen. I rummaged through it. No luck!
I went through all the drawers and cupboards in the kitchenette. No luck! They had to be in the main computer, bed, junk room then! To my joy, I espied a box of batteries on the top shelf. They’ll do for me, I said to myself, a broad enveloped my face.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 7:
As I reached up to grab the pack at full stretch, it gave way. I ended up in a little ruffled heap, landing on the crisp and nibbles box. Learning later that, I’d burst open three bags of crisps and a pack of cheese biscuits and bent the umbrella which was nearby. On the bright side, I used the umbrella to get me to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, and use it get back up on my feet. I sat there a few moments, stemming the blood trickling down from my must been hit in the accifauxpas nose and into my mouth. What next?

Aargh!

A Seizure-Ridden afternoon.
Although the evening got rid of them altogether.
I don’t know why or what the reason is for this.

I added a Milk Roll sliced loaf to tomorrow’s order from Sainsbury’s. You never know; they might have some in stock.

Carer ‘Joe’ made calls, and Carer Ejaz did one too.

Early Evening shots
Both were taken through the kitchen window.

Concentration Conrad was not interested in anything I did. This short Ode was done in the morning, and he was still playing me up.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 8:
As I was removing the hanging window dressing gown to block out the sun during the afternoon, I dropped the hanger.
It fell partly into the large jug of water I keep handy on the ledge. I grabbed it too quickly and knocked the jug of water off the ledge; down it went, watering my dressing gown that I was wearing, my socks, slippers and spread over the kitchen floor!
I believe that I may have cursed and swore!
Yes! I’m pretty sure!

After the last Carer’s call into bed, I did crawl.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 9:
I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter bag on.
Did I mention Concentration Konrad?
After the struggle to get out of bed and the nocturnal pouch attached to the day bag, it dawned on me that I’d taken the dressing gowns and put them in the laundry bag… but had not cleaned the mess in the kitchen up yet!
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 10:
I didn’t particularly fancy doing the mopping up with the four-pronged walking stick and the mop and bucket in tow. However, if I removed the nocturnal bag to do the mopping, I would have to reconnect the tube afterwards. And the night pouches are famous in Inchy’s world for leaking if one connects, takes them off, and then puts them back on again. So, I got the four-pronged walking stick and the mop and bucket in tow and got the cleaning up done. I felt well-drained after that, and for a moment on the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner, I sat.
Zzzz!
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Morning, All!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 26th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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A NEW AILMENT
I was sitting there, having a drink of Zinfandel,
I was depressed but not feeling suicidal,
Admittedly, I was finding life barely wadeable,
But why was I now thinking so depressional?
I need to cheer up but lack the wherewithal,
I’d gone from singing to feeling vincible…
I didn’t feel a part of anything tellural, 
Then I’d turn all phlegmatic and stoical.
What had changed? Guilt, now I feel sacral,
Suddenly tired, so tired, feeling sardonical,
Accepting that life is but ephemeral…
High Horis visiting is so enjoyable…
Depression Duncan returns, he’s unshakeable,
But why? It’s all unanalysable,
Keeping calm may be advisable,
Arguing with myself again, I must be tactful,
PN hinders thought and movement transferral,
Doreen Dementia is also not terminatable,
High Horis returns! Seemingly therapeutical,
Mini-seizures; sometimes things get threnetical,
Ailments can prevent stuff from being doable…
Problems mental and physical,
What I’m going to say may sound unbelievable…
In a High Horis, life seems incredible…
The sensation I had was execrable…
I floated out of my body, extrinsical…
I looked at myself, existential…
A chance, of course, this could be dubitable
Which gave me a theme for this doggerel,
Are these events possible or circumstantial?
With my mental ailments, possibly corporeal?
Another seizure then found a new carbuncle,
In a rear area just below my belt buckle!
As bad as things are, I still had to chuckle!
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03:10hrs: I bounded out of bed, somersaulted over the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, landing safely by genuflecting my knees at the perfect time. Yodelled, and…
Oh, well, alright then…
03:10hrs: I struggled to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. Then, I struggled even more to get my legs off the bed, knocking my walking stick over (I’ll get it in the neck for making noise this early from Marie, who lives below, next time I see her!), as both Cartilages and Arthur Itis didn’t seem to appreciate my sleeping in the hospital bed and were giving me some gip. I sang out as I stubbed my toe on the Ottoman… Twice!

I took this snap while checking the taps, fridge, and freezer in the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t left anything out of order. No doors are left open, windows are closed, and cookers are turned off.

This session took well over two hours. There were a couple of things that went well. I can’t recall them at this moment cause so many went wrong!
The first thing I tackled was pouring jugs of hot water, washing-up liquid, and Dettol into the grey bowl that my plates of meat fit into. To soak/wash them while doing my teeth and shaving. Which I did, and cleaned my painful, going rapidly-rotten teeth. My mistake was forgetting about the bowl with my feet in it and reaching for the Toothache Spray. I tipped the bowl, and water spread all over the floor! Still, I had clean feet. I also cleaned up the floor. It’s not easy with a mop, bucket and walking stick in tow. I also had a third stubbing of the toes. What can I say? Maybe Arrgh? Finally, I got back to do the shaving. Three tiny cuts underneath the chin, neck and nose. How I cut myself on my nose will remain a mystery. Nobody knows! I stopped the bleeding with the Brut aftershave. It stings a little but does the job.

Porc failedI had to use them before starting the medicationings.
Constipation Conrad ruled absolute this morning. It was pure agony.
I tried to expedite the process, but the evacuation was very slow going. My head was going dizzy with the pain and effort needed to encourage some movement. Eventually, the motion began, but it got stuck part-way!
Oh, what a painful morning!
I felt like I’d been on the toilet for an hour or more.
Suddenly, but oh, so slowly, the torpedo, it felt more like a submarine, quarter-inched its way out.
It plonked into the bowl with a thud.
There was a fair bit of blood!
From , well, there would.

Med HydrI then washed, antiseptically cleaned, and applied cream to the affected area. Doing it over again with some Germoloid Ointment.
More precious time was lost. However, the washing and medications did nothing to ease my situation. It was almost  Lovely!
Then, I made a brave decision. (Yes!) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion would be done next! Get more pain out of the way. I usually leave it until last, as it is the most painful one to do.
Ugleklump! Cragnackles! That hurt!

I did both eye sprays. Then, after cleaning the ears, I inserted the olive oil into each channel. A nasal spray was squirted up both sides. Then, another challenging task was undertaken. Needed the Barrier cream to be put on the right ankle. The left ankle was not leaking. A simple enough job – but reaching down to apply it was the problem. It was entirely overcome by my cunning use of paper towels dabbed, and the small plastic Picker-Upper was used to apply it. It wasn’t exactly pain-free, but it was bearable.

Oh, I am good! Hehe!

I’ve been using this graphic of the small picker-upperer on and off for years. I’ve only just noticed that I had spelt ‘picker’ wrongly. Tsk!

7:00hrs: I got two potatoes out, ready to go into the slow cooker later on. Of course, I forgot all about them; they had shrivelled a bit, and I threw them away, opting for frozen mini-roast spuds instead. I spotted the tubers on the counter around 21:00hrs.

Carer Ejaz made the first call of the day. Diabetic socks and medications were sorted out.

Daytime photos taken.

The clouds grew thicker.

It got hazier.

Then, it cleared a little.

Brightened up a smidgeon.

Struggled with updating the Friday post.
Well into teatime before I’d got it done.
Today, the above Ode cost me a few hours. Chiefly due to repeated mini-seizures and my mind wandering, I found myself scripting while I was out of it. So many corrections to be made. I may have missed some as the fog dawned in my head.

I got carried away searching for an old photo of myself to use on a future blog. More hours lost.
I spent too long thinking of and getting the photos cleaned up a smidgen; here they are.
c1951.
Then I took one taken earlier this year.
2025.
This sent me off on an unpleasant tangent.
Guilt and shame showered over me for my past actions. However, it clarified the reason for my bad luck and the mental and physical pains I now experience. Truth is, I deserve them. This afternoon, I found myself unself-pitiable.
A kind of freedom lingered, of acceptability.
I hope I can experience this feeling of peace again.

Carer Mizra did the second call. Confusion over medications. Mizra’s second time of calling. She put the socks on and creamed the right ankles for me.

I think I made a Sainsbury or Ocado order later on. I’ll need to verify this tonight.

Carer Rozma did the last two calls. I was having mini-seizures on both calls. It’s only through the scribbled notes on the pad that I remembered he’d called.

Approximately 21:00hrs.
What a change in the view!

My belated meal
Very nice, too!
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Up The NHS – Bless!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 24th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Here’s what the future holds, I’ve gleaned,

Putin & Trump, agreements are formed,

Their wars were turbocharged,

Trump: Mexico was savaged,

Putin: Lithuania was occupied,

Trump wanted Canada but was denied,

Putin: finished Ukraine, on to Poland,

Trump: attack and took Iceland…

Putin: The Idle of man was scavenged,

Trump proved he was  unhinged,

Jamaica was attacked

Is this how it all ends? Can you imagine?

World Rulers, Trump and Putin?

The only opposition is China?

What of the UK, Australia…

France, Spain, Africa, India?

What of bean-counter, Starmer?

I’ve been advised by an astrologer-auger,

That this is not on our future agenda,

Who can avoid this abomination?

Save the world and each free nation?

You’d know if you were a Christian!

It would be lovely to be awestricken!
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A mixed day mentally. It was rife throughout. Today was a day of hard work that left me baffled. Sparse blog, sorry. Up at 04:50hrs. 

Hoovering.

Potatoes are ready to make cheesy spuds later.

First brew of Glengettie.

Kitchenette view.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Diabetic socks.

Window cleaner called. The price is going up by 20%. Spit! The first bit of bad news, plenty to follow.

Ocado delivery.
Cheesy cobs.
Fridge

Just as I was bending and stretching to reach the bowl, I’d just dropped on the kitchen floor. Whoopsiedangleplop! Balance-Loss-Bertha and Dizzy Dennis gave me a double assault.
Down I went, hitting my chin and head en route to the floor and landing on the pile of bottles I’d knocked over. My language was a bit crude!
Hitting the chin, set off Toothache Tiffany.
Then came the harrowing part. The trip on all fours to get to 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; to haul me back up onto my feet. The short journey must have taken me a good few minutes to get there. I had to keep stopping to move the catheter pouch into a less painful position. I was knackered when I got there, then faced the challenge of hauling my elephantine-bellied body up on the recliner. Only to find that 
it was bleeding from the tube tugging and adjusting en route.
More time was lost, having to clean and medicate Little Inchies’ fungal lesion and the scrape and bruise on the chin. That stung a tad! 

I moved back onto the computer. Concentration was terrible, mistakes rife, and I wasn’t feeling too good physically now, either. My work rate disintegrated, my mind wandered off of its own accord, and I had a prolonged, weird, cracking seizure when I recall most things. I knew I was doing wrong, but I just thought this was a dream and carried on blooping! That is unless I was really dreaming. The oddest one yet.

Coming out and back to semi-reality, the young lady Carer arrived. I was draining the urine from the day bag to the dedicated jug. I believe I had another mini, a few-second-long seizure at the same time. Peptac was taken given.

I started on the blogs. Only to realise that I felt the warm, wet sensation in my left sock, feet and slipper!
Yes, I’d failed to turn off the release valve on the catheter yet again! I think a combination of the Seizure, the effects from the tumble, and being distracted when the Carer was asking my questions may have caused this accident.
It’s been the same for some time now. As I was warned at the Dementia meeting, it will get worse, and it has… my concentration evaporates when I try to do two things at the same time nowadays.
I know I’ve left the taps running when the door chime rings or I get a telephone call from someone. I forgot what I was doing when interrupted.
I had to take off my socks, which was even more painful than the first Accifauxpa with the tumble, all-fours-crawl, and fungal lesion medicating! Then, I had to wash my feet – another challenge, as if the agony of getting my socks off was not enough! I fetched a bowl from the wet room and half-filled it, a jug at a time, with water from the sink to fill the bowl halfway. Washing up liquid and Dettol added. I brought a towel with me. I’m not sure how I’m going to dry my feet with it yet. I managed it, but it was another painful struggle. Fed up? Me? Yes! 
I sat my feet in the bowl for about twenty minutes, placed a food order for the next week, and returned to the blog. The water was well cold now. I had hoped a Carer might call early to offer some help, but no luck. I decided to wait for the Carer before risking carrying the split plastic bowl to empty and store in the wet room. Then, I decided to wash the urine-soaked socks I had left earlier, soaking in Dettol and laundry liquid in the kitchen sink. Rinsed them and hung them to dry.
Funny how one can get a picture to come into one’s mind instantly, word association, maybe? As I typed ‘hung’, I thought of Starmer! Ha-ha!

I got an email from the Bulwell-based Diabetes training folks.

Sunset shot.

I’d bought some Albert Bartlett potatoes.
£2.50 for 2kilograms. Well, the ones I had last year for baking cheesy potatoes were wonderful!
But not so much this time!
I knew I’d have difficulty with them when I saw the amount of black mould in them.
This is how they came out of the cooker, ready to have the husks emptied into a bowl and mixed with some no-butter butter.
Leicester cheese, sea salt, black pepper and Worcestershire sauce. 
However, it took me an hour to cook them in the oven and almost another hour to locate and remove the spots of black Rhizoctonia Solani, which I had investigated. It is a fungal disease that causes stem canker, damping off, black scurf, skin netting, and tuber growth distortions. And getting them back in what was left of the husks… well, I think I deserved a medal. The mixture was replaced in the skins and returned to the oven for twenty minutes until the tops were nicely browned and crisp. However, they did taste so good! But it took so long to sort them out that I was falling asleep eating them. 
With some pickled beetroots and Nordic bacon!

Naturally, after washing the load of pots, cutlery, basins, and plates, I settled down around midnight to watch the original Death Wish movie on TV.
But couldn’t, as it didn’t have any subtitles. I did not want to wake up the chap above by having the sound load enough for me to hear it. Those two or three floors above and below me would have all been disturbed. I’d have had a lynch party waiting for me in the morning. Haha!

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– Passe une bonne journée –
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 23rd April 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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GOOD RESULTS
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Failures, mistakes? I’ve become an epigone,
It made me downcast, glum, & woebegone,
Life today, I just can’t underfong,
Hopefully, I’ll not suffer for too long,
I’ll soon see St. Peter, and be logging on…
Depression is a vile botheration…
My mind in constant circumbilivagination,
Brain & body with little corroboration,
Worries, fears, defeats, no cachinnation,
My mental visitors seem all cacodaemon,
The Grim Reaper’s awaited clarion…
I’ve given so much contemplation,
No solutions, just failed bodge, after bodge!
Will I be an Angel, or Beelzebubian?
Will I find safety, a hide, or a bastion?
Will Hell hold or hide bacchanalian?
Hell, is it the source of depressionism?
The Devils home, desolation, damnation?
Will retain my delusion & disequilibrium?
Or judge my sacrilege, profanation?
Or take heed of my moral declension?
Are my thoughts all a misconception?
Are Heaven & Hell; both a delusion?
Yesterday’s confusion I’d like to mention,
The failures, fears, all in deliration!
Will either be divine, celestial, or elysian?
Or are both, just an illusion?
Is there no other option?
Humankind, developed by an alien?
Monitored, our every move digested…
To what we are affiliated, afflicted,
Angered, get-bladdered, how have we altered,
Sins, naughties that we have adopted,
As to why? I’m just bewildered,
We’re castigated, castrated, get cataracted,
We murder, kill, give & get castigated,
Is this message getting communicated?
Explaining one thoughts is complicated…
We’ve been constipated, not consolidated,
We’re disordered, we’ve dithered, doddered…
Defaulted, defected, deflected, & dejected,
Murdered, bribed, MPs get backhanded,
Alliances get disbanded,
Morals do not get expedited,
Freed murderers are paroled,
Honest citizens get exasperated,
Oligarchs laugh at food price rises,
These wrongs are never explicated,
Minds & computers should be expurgated!
Crimes excused, falsified, almost justified,
I’ve lost the plot; must get this ode finished,
Heaven or Hell, they can’t be selected,
Which makes many people frampold & fantad,
We’ve all be criticised, castigated, hated,
Our aggravations have snowballed,
Getting more vicious, but never alleviated,
If lies, deceit were air, we’d all be asphyxiated,
Is death, a feature of life, or a forfeiture?
It could of course be a forewarner…
Life’s gone, but what’s around the corner?
Heaven or Hell, which one would be better,
Naturally I don’t know the answer,
Well, speaking as a grammaticaster…
And obviously an experienced galumpher,
This is just a hypothesis or conjecture…
Bearing in mind I’ve got cachexia,
Which is better to have than copropraxia,
Reserved for those with a particular disorder?
Maybe those of us with ecdemomania?
Maybe I’ll fit into that category?
I could beg St. Peter for an amnesty,
He may consider my plea, ambiguously,
Though he may answer me astringently,
Heaven or Hell? – Hopefully, Heaven for me!
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Sorry but today has been a nightmare.
Carer Joe, replaced with Carer Ejaz.
Who had not done the three hour shift before.
Other things prevented my working on the blog for long. This is really the best I could do.
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05:30hrs: Up and wobbling about.
Kitchen safety checks, took this rainy kitchen view

Then I went to have a long session.
The full works. Hard work due to both cartilages and several mini-seizures during the two hour session.

Carer Ejaz visit. It appears we have only one of the beta blockers left in stock. Ejaz made notes on his mobile. Said he’d sort things out.

Computer, doing the long ode for today.

Raining a bit now, no sunshine out yet. (midday)

Rain started, rain stopped!

Well, I made a right mess of this evenings meal!
Failures: I undercooked the potato cakes. Never have I bought fattier, greasier Golonkowa. The carden peas were taty, though. Unfortunately, I found some mould on the wheatmeal rolls!
A sad end, to a tragic day!

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Not a good day by a mile. I’ll try to smile!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 20th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Cooked pot of pork knuckle, beetroots, pickled black beans and water chestnuts, a giant potato pancake, two doorstep sized slices of bread, and a spot of BBQ sauce added. A cheap icecream cone to follow.
Ate it all up, like a good little boy. Hehehe!

22:20hrs: I got bedded down, and was soon off into the land of slumber, where I had a dream.
I was in the Tardis, with Herr Starmer. I recognised it from the TV series, but there were also members of Parliament, all arguing. Starmer seemed oblivious to this, and carried on over-talking them. I wish I could recall more. But that’s all folks! As some old Walt Disney cartoons used to end. Not that I can recall it at the moment, but I reckon I must have got up during the morning, and took these photographs from the kitchen window. Putting them on, I remembered the green sky, and wondering what I’d done wrong?
To the right I think.
To the left I think.
Ahead, I guess.
Closer shot, ahead. (Brown now?)

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Well, he’s back another reactivation,
Imbedding in me, thoughts of a madman,
Or perhaps, to be closer, a badman…
Silly thoughts, developed, began…
Will I ever get to use a bedpan again?
A chance to dance, the twist or can-can?
If I’m reborn, I’d like to be a Casanovan,
I’m passing wind with power of a turbofan,
I can hear words, they’re stentorian…
However, I refuse to pay attention,
They are full of hatred & vilification…
Loathing, defamation, castigation…
Giving me collywobbles & trepidation,
They laughed at my coming trephination,
Is the voice mine? Am I in regression?
My alto-ego is a much better rhetorician,
I leave no progeny, offspring, scion,
What will I leave in residualisation?
With age, comes a painful realisation,
Unwarranted dismal and depression,
I’d use a little prognostication…
Involving perception, conceptualisation,
But it would only be assumption, supposition,
I’d love to know before my conclusion,
Can life really be just an illusion?
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Best Week All Year!
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I had to use the Porcelain Throne twice overnight.
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At 06:40hrs, I bounded out of bed, and I did a backwards flip. One-handedly whipped the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Burst into song; Frank Ifield’s Wayward Wind. Did a few press-ups, and ten minutes of shadow boxing, and opened the kitchen window to yodel my greetings and best wishes to all who could hear me… Or, if you prefer the truth…
It’d been another stormy night. It must have taken me four hours to fall asleep. with his nit-picking and reminders of various mistakes and bad choices I’ve made over the years, I finally gave up his attack. I feell asleep for about an hour, sprang awake, waited for to stop trying to twist my neck off, and as he subsided, had her turn at dislocating my shoulder bone. No chance of nodding off again no matter how tired I felt, now. At 06:40hrs, I removed the night bag, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I could hardly feel the evacuation taking place. As I stood up, I couldn’t believe the amount of mass of evacuated product in the porcelain! I’ll say no more...


Made a brew of Glengettie.

Carere Ejaz called. I forgot to ask him to take off my socks. And pointed out that have only one warfarin dose left in the stock. Ejaz said sorry for being late. No bother at all. He was using buses on a Sunday.

I prepared the meal for tonight.
Large white beans, black-eyed peas, Gung Po sauce and gravy, water chestnuts, Light Soy sauce, liquid smoke, and potatoes. Heating it slowly in the crock-pot. Yes, the same again. I do like it!

More kitchen views.
Sunshine getting through.
Decent shots?

Back to the blogging.
Then onto the WP Reader.
Hoping it lets me ‘like and comment’ this time.

Carer Joe arrived. He’s bought some prescription medications, bless him. Great, I was on the last Warfarin tablet, too! Thanks!

Got the meal sorted. Took snaps of the evening view.
Amazing cloud formations

The days meal.

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May your week go frabjously,
Your hopes develop fabulously,
Your days each go unfractiously.
May your plans go flawlessly,
May your luck go favourably…
for your fancies and foibles,
Each day pass felicitously,
You avoid all that goes feudally,
Your dreams mature flawlessly,
May others greet you fondly,
And have a bit of luck, financially!
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Inchy Today: Friday 18th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Proof that the Grim Reaper is Evil!
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Life now seems full of stupefaction,
To which I hold many a reaction…
Overall, after my pondering summation,
I cut down on taking beta-blocker medication,
To help me with my concentration,
I weighed up the facts, with consideration
My brain tending towards absquatulation,
Considered my rear-end’s vesiculation,
It had no bearing on the situation,
Considering problems I didn’t want to mention,
The neurologist who said I’ve verbigeration,
Will my research ultimately reach a conclusion?
I realise life will never be utopian,
Past failures, return, with apprehension,
Stemming my thoughts with hesitation,
Guilt, self-vulneration & vilification
Detract me from my original intention,
I often lose my current situation…
What is my purpose, my vocation?
With Dementia comes alienation,
No doubt, I can cope, using gumption…
Mine is comparatively, insignificant,
But it is bound to soon worsen,
At the same time, my catheterisation,
Means no voluntary tintinnabulation.
For concentration, I see only annihilation!
>>>>><<<<<
Hopefully with more bravado,
I await the sign; at least an echo,
As I lay here, lying doggo,
My thought processes, fallow…
Whatever my mood, high or low,
I’ll get part-three done tomorrow,
I’m off now to have a Cornetto!
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– – Excellent week up to now! – –
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I stirred back into my pretend life at 05:40 hours.
Another night of ever waking up, but this time & were present every time I woke up. I was concerned about them both, having two nights absence. Huh!

Nocturnal Pouch. Rating 5

Clock calendar updated. Hearing aid inserted. Earholes olive oiled. Eye sprayed. Rear end washed and antisepticated.
The saving produced just two little cuts.
No spillages or tumbles! Although I had a close call when getting the fresh PPs on.

Care Ahmed arrived as I was starting to season & pickle some black peas.
I mentioned that the computer was correcting when I put his name in the blog; so he gave me another name to use, bless him. Ejaz. I used it when updating yesterday’s blog, it accepted this one. He issued the medications and asked me if the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Ointment treating was hurt again today. Haha, a lovely lad, ever-ready for a laugh.

I hoovered the little hallway, not that I’ve got a large hallway, anyway. I didn’t need to say that, did I? I’m wandering all ready. Then, I prepared the necessary items to finish the chickpeas and store them in the fridge for later use.

The day was brightening. However, the sunshine never did break through the clouds today. 

The Kala Chan peas, Stubb’s liquid smoke (this is what McDonald’s uses in their smoked food). Mushroom liquid ketchup, Marmite, liquid sea salt, pickling vinegar, and light soy sauce. I drained the peas and put them in a leak-proof food tub.
And I got it sealed and put it in the fridge. Then I opened a can of water chestnuts, and broke some up into the mix and vinegar. I had a taste of the liquid mix, and it tasted very good to me. It will require a minimum of three days in the fridge to achieve a decent level of pickledness in the peas. I must be parient. Hehe!

Back to the wet room. Urgh!

The midday call was by “Carer Joe”. We had a natter, and he said he’s doing the next call, then a new Carer would be calling. He’ll be back later. I’m not sure how long he’ll be off for, he might be on holiday.
I’d had a seizure while doing the blog when he arrived, so things can be taken with a pinch of salt.

SEIZURES FIESTA
Not for long.
But they very short, but each one was recogniseable.
I dare not move about or try to do anything on the computer, fearing a tumble or ruining the nearly finished blog. All ended well, though. They stopped after about an hour of them rattling in so fast.

Andy really has expressions that almost seem to talk to you! He’s undergoing a lot of treatment at the vets now he’s getting older. All the WPers love him.
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I’ll have to do catch-up again in the morning.

Good Morning!

Not much to do, just to add Ejaz visit and the days nosh. Can’t remember anything else.
When Carer Ejaz made the last call, I’d been deep into a heavenly sleep for about an hour.
Boy, was I confused and tired again.
I was so tired; all I wanted was to get back to sleep.
He kindly said he would fit the new weekly catheter day bag on in the morning. But I’d not made a meal yet! So I did. Half-asleep. Hehehe!

Made the nosh up. Minced imitation beef and grey, added garden peas, pickled water chestnuts, and brown chickpeas. Poured some Gung Po sauce over it, as shown in the picture above. Mixed it all up and microwaved it.
Loverly!

Of course, that was end of any sleep for the night.

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😘 TTFNski. Keep Safe! 😘
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 16th April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
and my bodily, dedicated to medications,
Going in, my shoulder had a collision,
Banged my head, nearly had a concussion,
The Porcelain Throne, I dumped on,
Had a Trotsky Terence evacuation…
All over within what seemed an instant!
Standing, I saw blood, & liquid aurulent.
I checked my bottie and protection pants,
Blood on the lid… is that appurtenant?
Blood twixt the top between each buttock,
<<<<<<>>>>>>
I cleaned my teeth, and they bled,
Then got on and shaved,
Five cuts with my razor blade,
I should really stay bearded,
To myself, I blethered,
Then, with me being butterfingered,
Washing my delicate feet, barefooted,
My ingrowing toenail was stubbed,
The bottom was still well blooded,
Smearing barrier cream, I lathered,
Of course, I wasn’t really bothered!
<<<<<<>>>>>>
Started the medications, antibiotical,
The clock had stopped, its analogical,
Found another sticking out blood vessel,
Then I had something of a tumble…
To the floor, I slowly crumple,
Any more, and I’ll be biopsable!
This was not the end of my trouble,
My ailments are not inalimental,
Many ailments were responsible,
Anne Gyna, Cartilages or neurological,
None of which are nullifiable!
<<<<<<>>>>>>
On all fours, to the recliner, I had to go,
I got on my feet, muttering mumbo-jumbo,
Again, banging my poor camel toe!
Back to the wet room, slowly, adagio,
The rear end was still bleeding, though,
After getting up, the fungal lesion too,
I greeted Carer Ahmed, Buongiorno,
Ahmed said I’ve to let the nurse know,
About the blood that still did flow,
But it stopped later, so I thought, no…
I did feel a bit of a drongo!
<<<<<<>>>>>>
Ahmed medicated me, put on my diabetic socks,
Back to the wet room, I had aftershocks…
No blood is coming now from my buttocks,
Seizures, which for me is now orthodox,
Anne Gyna started, as usual for Inchcock,
Flood alarm sounded, off went the stopcock,
Left the tap running, causing more havoc,
My brain went into a maze, gridlock,
Hearing aids in, I heard the clock’s tick-tock,
Confusion is still running amok!
<<<<<<>>>>>>
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– – – – – – – – – CATCH-UP TIME – – – – – – – –
Lamburgers & Potato slices.
Iced & Cream finger rolls!
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Laundry and sorting day today. Not me, most of it was done by Carer ‘Joe’. Did a grand job for me as well.
He was up and down with the laundry. And sorting it out in the main room, making space so there is theoretically less chance of taking any whoopsies. I helped with the finances, a problem with photograph storage, and emails. I also checked the dates on the food for me. Thanks, ‘Joe’.
So very light on detail today.
I’ve forgotten half what took place; I’m so busy.

Morning shots. Straight ahead
To the right
To the left.
But I might be wrong.

Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
And my body is dedicated to medications.
Details are at the top of the above Ode.
Believe it or not.
The session took me three hours to get done. Then Carer ‘Joe’ here for three hours, it didn’t leave me much time ot get owt done. Although I did get bits done. But not much on the notepad apart from the wet room visit of gloom.

19:20hrs: The rear end is still leaking the odd little bit of blood now, but it is less each time I check it than in previous investigations. A lot of bloodied tissues. I’ve got to laugh about it… now! Haha!

I did have time earlier to cut some water chestnuts into a jar to pickle them. I put them in the fridge next to the delicious Gung Po jar of sauce and the black bean sauce. 
I made up a tub to microwave the planned meal later, but I’m nowhere near getting it done yet. So it may be morning again before I get a nosh. But I think it will be a good one. Another can of the odd, nobbly, stumpy Bularian soft sausage and giant white beans. With Gung-Po already mixed in the microwave dish for later, and some water chestnuts added, either tomato sauce of beef gravy will be added, like the other day. It didn’t look terrific, but it was sooo tasty! 

I took this of the tree copse and pathway.
I think I did, I’ve no memory. I may have taken it another day. Cause I was having a series of mini-seizures that left me more confused than I had been for a few days.

When Carer Ahmed arrived, he thought I was in a seizure. I’d just come out of one. Well spotted, young man. He offered to take a look at my bleeding rear end. It was bleeding, but he wasn’t sure if it was inside or out. Had it been inside, it may have been or .
But a little discomfort when I sit down tells me I’ve chaffed the coccyx (tailbone), from falling in the tumbles or just sitting down so often. I kept cleaning the area and putting some barrier cream on each check throughout the day.

I was trying to get the Ode done. But four hours later, I did get it done. Little else. ‘Joe’ was patient with me, persisting. He knows how addicted I am.

I took this at about 20:15hrs.

I got the food out and added a can of beef stew. Stirred it all together, ready for when the Carer has called, and then I can cook it and dig in. I got three chunky, thick slices of bread from the freezer and thawed them out, ready for the feasting! Haha!

The tiredness and weariness came later than usual today. I’ll try to catch up in the morning, but there’ll not be much to do. Unless some exciting events take place unexpectedly, like: We have a fire, I have another heart attack and or stroke, I leave the taps running, have a tumble, world war three kicks off, or someone calls to adopt me as a grandad. 
I’ll not set any odds. Hehehe!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 15th April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Inchie: You’re not listening to me!
Inchy: Well, I’m having a pee…
Rollocks, you can’t manually pee!
But I can empty the catheter manually!
Only if yer pouch ain’t fell below yer knee…
Then yer can’t reach it, only painfully!
If I’m you, and you say you’re me,
Why is yer always acting sarcastically?
Well, I stuck with you mentally;
No need for you to act temperamentally!
Sorry, it’s been another bad day, yer see
You don’t expect me to act amiably?
There must be some points on which we agree.
I’ve got Doreen Dementia in here with me!
And you, too, just as alarmingly!
She makes me act absentmindedly,
I’ve got her for life, intrinsically,
Playing with my mind’s psychoactivity,
She’s given me Peripheral Neuropathy!
Yes, she’s cruel, she inspires me…
Inspires you! With her psychoactivity?
She taught me jealousy & perversity!
And how to correctly use pomposity,
Then where did you get your piosity?,
The same place you got your absurdity.
Always had it; it comes naturally.
And your nastiness, and pugnacity?
I’ve had them since my birth in 2015 BC.
2015 BC? How come you ended up with me?
When your current brain dies, we float away,
To Grim Reaper Land ostensibly,
We get a new brain-lodgings for free,
Move in, if assessed okay? Then permanently,
Until they near death, which is you currently,
You’re really in antemortem, pre-autopsy.
Oh, then I’ll die owing money?
What’s yer biggest debt fundamentally?
£1,566 behind, and I need to pay my electricity fee.
How did you get £1,566? That’s a lot of money! 
Herr Starmer to blame mostly…
Ah, I understand, you’ve my sympathy.
No need to be gloomy or for any negativity,
You’ll likely die today while making your tea.
How is that supposed to cheer me?
You won’t have to pay for your electricity!
Oh, yeah. I can see clearly,
All part of life’s declivity!
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Catch-up from last night.
Vegetable stew with a sausage, some Gung-Po sauce added and extra gravy for the first time ever.
I had it in for a while and could not find a sell-by date, but it didn’t smell off. It tasted lovely. The Morrisons part-baked rolls were oven-cooked, and they tasted nice, well over-dunked in the liquid first. 
I could not read the contents of the Gun Po, but I tasted water chestnuts in it. When Carer ‘Joe’ called later, he confirmed no water chestnuts were in the ingredients. But whatever was in there, I liked it. I’ll try them again with the Bulgarian beans and sausage tinned meal.

I noted the strange mini-clouds that looked like gate tops above the yellow & in the grey.
They look like shark fins in this one.
Love to know how this happened.


A lousy night’s kipping again. Ever waking up.
I tried my best to stay asleep, but it was no good. So at 06:00hrs, I rose from the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and mused over what needed to be done. Then, I decided to get the ablutions and medications done first, hoping to catch up on some sleep later.

I must have taken these two shots of the view from the kitchenette; they were on the SD.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching a bit of the balcony.

They didn’t go so well today.
Five cuts shaving. Dropped the olive oil bottle while sucking up some liquid. The Porcelain Visit took seconds, Trotsky Terence style, but it took ages to clean up afterwards. What a mess; I’ll not say where, but embarrassment ensued.

Carer Ahmed arrived. Socks, medications, and he found I’d left the hot tap running again! Argh!
Good job that I had an early clean-up & shave.

MARATHON SEIZURE
I WAS DOING SO WELL MEDICALLY AS WELL
I came out of it so confused. I’d done a little on the blog and made a mess of most of what I’d done.
I had to stop for a while to get my head together. Well, as together as it’s ever going to get. I fear I was out of things for several hours. I think I was; maybe I’d fallen asleep? I doubt it because I felt worn out after a while, which I hadn’t before the episode. I hope the Doctor rings soon. This one was not good.

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. He had a mask on and a cough and sore throat—so did I. It was a short visit during which he assessed the contents of the Gung-Po sauce. I forgot to ask him for some Peptac.

A food order arrived that I worryingly can’t recall ordering at all.
Six bags.
Cake shop & cobs. Cakes for Carer ‘Joe’ in thanks.
More cakes for Jenny & Frank… and me!
And the ice cream cones. Slurp!
A few other bits.

Then I called to see if Jennie and Frank were at home and took some treats down for them. They tell me off, but they are so good to me. Bless them both.

NOW A SCARY MINI-SEIZURE
I was stood up when I went into it.
I felt myself going and sat down.
What felt like two minutes later,
I seemed to come round.
Crikey, was I in a state. Balance gone,
hazy-minded. Within minutes, I was
back to how I was earlier.
Mind-Bogglingly Confusing!

As I write this, about four hours later, the seizures have stopped completely. (Give them time.)

I’m going to make an early meal, see how I feel.
Lamb burgers, methinks! 
Then, I will see if I can catch up on some sleep again.
I’m off to cook the burgers now.

More Tomorrow…
Including the Lamburger Feast!
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