Inchys Ode

Inchy Today: Thursday 13th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – TO THE WORLD – –
Affluence, finance, profit, I find anticlimactic,
Do I need help? Possibly neuropsychiatric?
The end of the world, although slightly dramatic,
Will it be wars or maybe something pathogenic?
It’s easy for us now to retrodict,
Did the end start with the launch of Sputnik?
Then the Cold War, the Berlin lift,
Leaders became warmongers, without a shamanic,
Of course, I write with the pen of a pedantic,
The need for alcohol and drugs to be romantic,
Humankind is to blame, clearly; it’s apodictic,
I can’t really say that this is pathetic…
Living life for pleasure, the pace is frenetic…
Citizens live or die, it’s all aleatoric,
Children crushed hiding in an attic…
No food, medications for the dying asthmatic,
Young, old, Anti-Muslim, anti-Semitic,
Terrorist Governments, Anders Breivik,
Warmongers reign, ruling more absolutistic,
Putin and Starmer are over bureaucratic…
Their compassion is theoretical, hypothetical,
Repeatedly, innocents slain, it’s almost archaic,
Families, babies, running, hiding, antidromic…
In fear, mayhap, of something atomic?
We don’t look the same; we’re not concentric…
Humans, surely we’re kindred, congeneric?
Oligarchs, weapon suppliers formed a clique,
I can see a link to things dinosauric…
The state of the world is almost phantasmagoric,
They don’t see the dangers; they’re altruistic,
We voted them into power, is it time to quetch?
Politicians self-empowering remain recidivistic,
If we all worked for peace, it would be soporific,
If this dream could come true, it’d be terrific!
We’ve no chance of ridding ourselves of the sadistic,
That makes me feel even more pessimistic…
I’ll have to stop here; I’ve got problems urologic!
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Up to the neck in it. Computer problems again.
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A seven onb the NHS Richter-Scale card. Hehe!

I went into the kitchen to make a brew and had to try again to take a decent moon shot. With such a dark sky, my hopes were high. Not really!
Ah, well!

Handwashed the thin dressing down.

Off to the wet room.
I started with the usual seated part of the session.

The saving brought only one cut worth mentioning.
The medicationing went fine! Really! Honest!
However, when getting the fresh PPs on;
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I took a selfie a few minutes later with Kodak Tim 2.

From the computer, many things go wrong after the Windows update was installed. I wasted hours & hours!

The Carer arrived, Akmad or Joe, Akmad I think. 

A late afternoon shot with Kodak Tim 2,
Can anyone see the creature’s face in these clouds that I can? The late Carer found it straight away. But not the other one. Nor did the nurse… I think that she thought I was pulling her leg. Until I pointed out the facial features.

I prepped the meal for later cooking.
It’s a bit of a mixture. I hope it will taste better than last night’s terrible, inedible effort. I sliced some water chestnuts with a can of beef stew with a microwave chilli con carne. I left it in the microwave cooking box in the fridge.

Then, I crossed my fingers and went on WP to start this blog. Will it let me put the early photos on, but several I took before the food snap would go on as some other file?

I have no idea what will happen. The preview is correct, but it’s all a frustrating mystery to me.

Calm looking evening.

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Guten Tag!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 9th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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This ode was inspired by Koheleth,
Who came into my dream on March seventh,
We chatted, and also… methinketh…
We rewrote the ten commandments, meseemeth,
He asked what mankind was really worth.
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Seems we shared many an apomorph,
In this dream, I was an ectomorph,
Seems he rebirthed in Dusseldorf,
He said life today is unsocial & tharf,
I don’t know what his words were worth.
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Long dead, he’s now a Grim Reaper, today,
‘I’ve got my own; he contacts me each day’,
He added; Mankind’s existence is not justificatory,
I said Well, there’s always been wars & poverty!
Mankind no longer read the words of the Almighty!
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I said, we no longer use mankind, but humankind,
It’s considered insulting to our female kind!
His looks of scorn tormented my mind…
Women’s duties, the Lord defined!
To reproduce, to submit to her husband.
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To the window I was beckoned…
He spoke as his arms lifted skyward…
Earthlings are no longer disciplined,
The Lord is thought less of than cannabinoid,
Faith, they go out of their way to avoid!
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The vision ended, and I felt isolated, bare…
Was this Old Testament man really there?
What was it he wanted to tell or share?
Did he visit to lambast or assure?
To the bible we should adhere?
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It was written by men to suit their persuasion!
To get a stronghold on the masses & accreditation,
Hundreds of faiths, claiming authorisation,
It’s no wonder I get depression,
Faiths & Governments are anti-egalitarian!
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Proletariats get only biased adjudicature,
Let’s face it, Starmer is an out-and-out liar!
Justice, fairness, & compassion we require,
We get greed, oligarchs, violence & war,
What can we do? Nothing, I’m sure!
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I found an old SD card hidden on the floor underneath the computer desk. I also found some photos of the progress being made at a house in front of the flats. It took another to update the series, but now it appears finished.
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Last night was the worst night’s sleep of the year
What didn’t keep waking me up? Every bloody thing seemed to! And despite being tired out, I struggeld to get back to sleep every damned time I woke up! I gave up at 05:00hrs.
Anne Gyna, I suppose, was the most oft-repeated offender, closely followed by Shaking Shoulder-Shirley.
As I moved my muscular, healthy, perfectly formed body to get at the , I started coughing and sneezing! Humph! What the heck next? Double Hump!

I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was a bit darker today, and as I stood up, I lost my balance and gave way at that second… Fortunately, I managed to land on 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 that I’d just climbed out of. A bit of good luck here: did not bleed!
I emptied the night pouch, disposed of it, and paid a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
A stinky affair, and sticky as well! I got the tune of Phorpain gel to rub into Cartilage Chloe and Arthur Itis. However, I got some pm the day cather bag. I had to take it off and wash it. I’ve only got two left. I must order some more. I clearly remember thinking something similar two weeks ago. This brought on , Why? I Dunno! But he did.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchenette window. However, when I uploaded the shots to the computer later, they didn’t appear on the SD card. Treble Humph!
I gathered all the wastebin bags into one and placed it near the front door. Then, I got onto the computer and realised I had not put the SD card in Kodak Tim 2 or Kodak 1. What a mess trying to sort them out. It seemed so much harder to get to grips with while DDDD was present. I spent hours fathoming about getting them arranged in order.
Some are on each SD card and on each internal storage.

So I semi-guessed, reading each box to see if it said day or evening. Some I could not read, thanks to Glaucoma Gladys. But they were obvious ones I had to take day and night, so there was no problem. I took them. Then, as I was emptying the catheter day bag, blood was coming from Little Inchy’s fungal lesion. So I applied some cream Hydrochloride cream. Gawd, it hurt. Haha!

As it turned out, I pressed on with the blog—a mission impossible. I did not finish yesterday’s post but am starting today’s. What an imbecile!

Was joined by the longest ever Absence Seizures. I worked out the best I could, which must have lasted three hours. I was finally coming out, or back into, mock reality. The carer arrived. I know I was talking to him, but I do not know what. I’m going to have to ring the Doctor about these. Mind you, I already have. I waited 8 days to get a telephone call back from her. I have waited another 6 days for a call. This gigantic, lengthy, non-eleptic seizure left me confused & drained. Not good!

I must get Saturday’s blog done now (22:36hrs).

Done it! Hurrah! .23:00hrs

Earlier sunset snaps.
Almost like a painting?

Food needed now!
Wunderbar!
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Concerned at too many a seizure…
Differing types, lengths, anywhither.
Waiting for Matron, as assessor & advisor,
Three weeks now, she may come in October,
Worried about my mental architecture,
My innards, eyesight and Back-Pain-Brenda,
Currently, the worst different types of seizure,
My latest ailment is arithmaphobia,
Doing the medications ordering and roster,
I feel a sort of mental nincompooper,
Signs of my becoming a cacographer,
Eyesight & shakes, a terrible photographer,
My mind & body are contracting dystaxia,
Options, decisions taken, ever more dotier,
Prolonged seizures? I become a gongoozler,
Ankle ulcers colours, black, red and/or zaffre, 
Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Anne Gyna,
Shirley’s Shaking Shuddering Shoulder,
Toothache Tiffany, Gladys Glaucoma,
Earache Erasmus, Acne and Eczema,
Cartilage Choe & Carol, Episodic Ataxia,
Dementia Doreen, Paroxysmal Dyskinesia,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan, a canker!
For reading this Ode-Moan; I thank yer!

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Forgive My Foul Language, but Starmer!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 8th March 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Just look at the figures for this week!
And the urine colours are better, to boot!

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Do you remember your girl-seeking soirees?
The eroticism, desire, the enamoredness,
Your hopes are to find and have affairs du Coeur,
The wooing, the seduction, the wassails?
As your lustfulness, starting with snuggling…
Would your flirting end in seductioning?
Your aim is for physical entangling!
I wasn’t very good at romancing,
I was usually one of the wannabes…
Hoping one day I’d stop failing,
For me, few gals had a vacancy…
This didn’t stop me from trying,
Most ended up with threnodies,
I rarely got as far as groping,
I’d often fail to hit the high-jinks,
That’s why I’m sitting here crying…
My efforts were more like conjecture,
Not easy with a todger that’s miniature,
Turned down; a smile I’d manufacture,
I’ll have to pull myself together,
I always look back and see only failure,
Now I’m an enforced refrainer,
Not only am I getting older…
If any lady was to offer…
How could I remove the catheter?
Soirees no more, I have to surrender!
And without enough cash to go on a bender!
From the local yobbery, could buy a snorter?
Still, I’ve a good week on my sphygmomanometer.
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05:30hrs; I rose from the sweet, if broken, 5-hour sleep.
Feeling rather good, actually. I tended to the nocturnal catheter bag. Sorted the bins.

I took a snap of the morning view from the kitchen.

Then, I visited the wet room, initially to utilise the Porcelain Throne. TT was again in charge.

I decided to get the Ablutions done while I was in good shape. I started with the teggies and then the shaving.
Several were acquired. All on the rear part of the neck, so I didn’t see any blood until after they’d dripped onto my back and the wet room floor. More mess to clean up, but I did it without any Accifauxpas! Smug-Mode!
I showered, a quick one. Then, I dried off and started the medicationings. Usual routine. No problems with it. I was beginning to think I might still be in bed, sleeping and dreaming about what was happening. Things were unnaturally going well for me – it’s worrying. Hehehe!

I heard the door chime as I was fighting to get the protection pants on. The Carer Promise was arriving. He waited patiently for me to finish after I asked him if he minded. He was a lovely lad. After dishing out the medications, he read some dates I could not see on the fridge, then departed on his rounds. Thanks, mate.

COMPUTER COCK-UP!
Old Photo used
I’d been working on the blog. I went to fetch a drink from the fridge and tried to continue. 
The blog would not let me scroll, and words were highlighted when I was doing nothing.
 Then, a screen came up full of details that meant nothing to me. I spotted on one of the ever-changing usage lines that a Google engineer or assistant was working on it. I left it alone, hoping that whatever he was doing would solve the issue, and went to put some potatoes in the slow cooker for later.
I returned several minutes later, and the window was not showing, and I cheered a bit. Then I noticed two Google thingamibobs were open and was unsure which to open.
I chose one randomly.
ARRGH!
All the top intro things I’d done for over two hours had vanished! I had to start again. But at least it let me type and scroll again. I think I’m feeling good, with
and not DDDD up till now, the situation soon reversed.

I didn’t realise how long I’d been off; it seems that when Carer Joanne arrived, I was still having trouble with the blog. Flipping ‘eck, it must have been about four hours! I must have missed something else that caused this discrepancy timewise. Surely?

It took me ages to catch up, and by that time, was making his teatime call on me!
What a long time lost, and nothing much done.

To be continued… well, sorted out on Sunday Morning.

I got into a pickle when an SD card packed up. Finding photos I knew I’d taken took me hours. I’m even further behind now (Sunday). Here’s hopefully an accurate update with the photos retrieved.
It’s a late afternoon snap.

Ahem!

Teatime.

A little later.
Closer shot of the same.

Seizures kicked in while eating this.

Washed the pots, and fell asleep.
Waking every minute it felt like to me. With
on the job every time I woke up. But no long twitchings, they stopped almost as I stirred.
I may have been having nocturnal seizures. Hard to work it out, really. Just once, the metallic smell and taste erupted from my innards. As usual, followed by terrible dizziness. You feel like you are falling for a few moments every time.
Even when you’re flat out on the bed, even when it visits, I’m sat in 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.

Did the last call. Can’t recall much of it.

I soon nodded off again, missing the football match on the TV that I’d hoped to watch.
A well-interupted night’s sleep. Seizures? , .
, one even had a couple of turns.
Unquestionably, it was my worst night this year.
I’ll try not to repeat this waffle on tomorrow’s blog.

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TTFNski – Keep Safe Each & All!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 6th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Inchy: Grim, can’t you ring the bell before you visit?
Grim: Well, that wouldn’t look very authentic!
Inchy: Ah, I can see the logic…
Grim: Anyroad, it’s some good luck for you, Inchy, that I’ve come to transmit!
Inchy: Oh, goodie, I don’t usually good news rhetoric.
Grim: The H&H ‘Hearafter Selection Committee’ usually has a maximum percentage allowed, and it’s strict.
Inchy: Yes, tell me in plain language, not contorted or overscholastic…
Grim: Well, our auger & accountant tells us of a coming peace treaty, and we’ll need someone up there with us to keep the score in the following Oligarch-inspired war. Well, Heaven and Hell still use Windows 3.
Inchy: Yes, tell me tell me…
Grim: Don’t talk to me like that, all antagonistically!
Inchy: Sorry, but I’m excited. Accept my apology!
Grim: We don’t have anyone up there who can remember Windows 3; it changes almost daily.
Inchy: You mean Word and Excel? Have I heard what you said correctly?
Grim: It’s difficult for the computer to run with no electricity!
Inchy: What? H & H both exist powerlessly?
Grim: Well, heaven did a deal with Hell, and they get the politicians, Oligarchs and murderers to produce the power using pedal power, and all for free.
Inchy: Hehehe!
Grim: We use a power system called Cyclistically to make our own electricity.
Inchy: Do they have to cycle for eighteen-hour shifts? Is there no food or drink? Will they be beaten about the head if they go too slowly?
Grim: Aye, they cycle 24/7/7, abundantly!
Inchy: Heavens & Hell, that news pleases me!
Grim: Now we can fit you in surreptitiously,
If you promise to use Window 3 Inchy, secretly.
Inchy: I’ll work diligently if you just take me away.
From this hellhole of an earth & cruel life…
I’ve been denied a wife, get ailments & strife…
But would my health, mental & physical, revive?
Grim: We’ll never know. You won’t be alive…
Inchy: How will I cope with computer & hardrive?
Grim: If you pass St. Peter’s inquisition, you’ll thrive!
Inchy: I’ll thrive but not be alive! Is that coercive?
Grim: Don’t tell me you’re feeling apprehensive?
It’s an alternative, a sort of imitation life…
Inchy: It’s Earth life that I’m not coping with!
Grim: You’ll find things are different, cosmocratic,
Inchy: Will the souls be kind & communistic?
Grim: They certainly will not be consumeristic,
Inchy: Is that good? Bad? It seems to contradict,
Grim: You really want to stay on Earth’s cesspit?
Inchy: No, no, no! Look at me, I’m cadaveric.
I’ll come with you, even if this is all a trick!
Grim: I’ll tell summat else to make you ecstatic,
Inchy: Please do, Grim. Make me aware,
Grim: One of your jobs when you get up there…
Will be a sort of aged welcoming au pair,
Doing one-to-one interviews, as an assessor,
Deciding which sole will go where…
To Heaven, & peace everafter…
Or to hell, specifally to be a cycler,
You’ll sentence each one, whomsoever,
I’ll assure you can Starmer!
I’ll ensure Starmer gets you as an interviewer!
Inchy: Great, I’m ready when you are!
Grim: Sorry, I was pulling your leg.
Still, I’ve made you so much cheerier!
Inchy: You little monkey, you’re getting cheekier!
Grim: Anyway, if I took you now, you’d miss Keir’s funeral & not be able to be the cheerleader!
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3 To Find – In Nine Seconds.
I think that’s a little short.
It took me nine minutes to get them all!
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Smoked ham on non-butter buttered cheesy topped rolls. With sliced Natoora black tomatoes. Sea salted.
With cooked beetroot and battered mashed potatoes.
A pot of lemon & lime yoghourt last night.
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Two Natorra tomatoes left to have later.
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A decent 6 hours of sleep and a few wake-ups, but not due to . Not a lot of them anyway.

Removed from the day pouch, and from then on, I started so many tasks in a short space of time and made many errors. For example, after I started sorting the waste bags out. Got three bags into one and intended to do the other two. But no, not me. I found myself with my head in the oven cleaning the racks.  I say I found myself because obviously one of the seizures had got a hold of me; the last thing I remember doing before this was taking the first bag to the door. And was going to sort the front room bins. I looked in the room, and they had not been done.
It gets better! I returned to the kitchen to see what I’d done with the oven and found a tap had been left running and a nightshirt in the sink. Since the water was cold, I assumed I must have been rinsing after washing the Kagoul. I rinsed the shirt and wrung it out, ready to put it on a coathanger to drip dry in the wet room… I reckon it caused me a bout of vertigo as I removed the shirt from the sink to the bowl. No need to tell you, but I will: I dropped the bowl, water all over the floor and me, and the monitoring station came through to tell me the water leak alarm had activated. It took me a minute or two to regain my balance sufficiently to reach the monitor.

I never recovered from this bout all day long. A new fear gripped me, and it was amazing that I didn’t take a tumble again. I sat down for a minute or two and changed the clock-calendar on the computer desk.

I was soon back in the kitchen, sorting out the mess. Then I got a look at the oven that I’d come round to, to find I was working on cleaning it.  
What a mess! I’d put some foam spray cleaner on everything, but then I found the bottle label that read, “WARNING: For Bathroom & Toilet Cleaning Only!”
So, I spent ages getting it off and drying the oven.

A nagging douby that I was going to, or needed to do something, lasted for about ten-seconds. Then I made my way to the wet room to get the ablutions, medications and Porcelain Throne duties done.
The Porcelain Throne was not even sat on.
However, I managed a gentle shave and only caught the head patches from yesterday’s tumble a few times. The shaving was done so gingerly that I might not have bothered.
The neck growth felt the same to my touch as before I’d shaved! The went okay. And… I got the fresh PPs on without any falls, stumbles or droppages!

A Caregiver arrived, and I remembered that I needed to hang the Kagoule on the wetroom shower rails to dry. So, after the carer had medicated me, I got another kagoule washed and hung it up with the other in the wet room.
I wasn’t with it at all today. I thought about making a brew of Glengettie, but then I remembered I’d not taken the waste bags to the chute yet.   So, I did!
There were no traps on my fingers or my hand. And no walking into the doorframes. 2.

Carer Sam arrived. Took the laundry down for me, bless her.

A belated, unexpected series of Mini-Seizures visited me. After all the work I’d done today to try to catch up, for about four hours I was… was, well, erm… in and out-of-it. When in, I had to try to sort out what’d gone while I was out of it… but would go out of it before I could get an angle on what I’d been doing when I was out-of-it the time before; if anything.
I just read the above, and Blanety-Blank came to mind. 

I made a meal, Sweet and sour chicken Chinese style. I boiled and added some potatoes and a small jar of Hoisin and spring onion sauce. I bought it years ago; I can’t find a use-by date. Then, I also decided to have some potato waffles on the side. So, I did! I was so hungry.
When I was about to fetch Kodak Tim 2, the Carer arrived, and I forgot to photograph the meal. Tsk!

Cocked things up again.

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 5th March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Today, I had a moment of pure glee!
And I was proud of my being TT,
Such a fantastic display of abstinency,
Also, my new found articulacy,
My fitness & mind control, no asininity!
I now count every eaten calorie,
Push-ups this morning? 223!
The women are definitely after me,
They asked me to go back to work, did I agree?
I made up my mind and told them, certainly!
I’ve never thought more clearheadedly,
I reread Exodus in its entirety,
I paid my overdue bill, for the electricity,
I cleaned up my groin; it was pretty bloody,
I sang and praised the Lord ecstatically,
I expect you think I’m getting delusionary?
One line of this ode is actual: I can tell thee…
But which one? A clue? Cleansed!
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Morning shot at approx. 05:30hrs
Morning shot at approx. 05:55hrs.

Ocado Oder arrived.
Daffies for the gals.
Food for me.
Drinkies for me.
More food for me…
Even more for me!

I don’t know much about what’s going on Today.

This morning’s shot.

The Carer took a shot of the head for me, tonight.
It’s looking better, healing already. And a lot less painful.

Tomorrow will be a busy day. I hope I’m up for it. New Carers will be visiting to assess whether they can take me on.

Matron Jackie might be calling.

The Amazon parcel should be arriving before 22:00 hours.

The catheter nurse is due, I think.

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CHEERS!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

/ Inchie / 19 Comments

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THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES!
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The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
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Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution!
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I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance!
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What a fantastic dream I had last night!
I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it…  David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake.   
Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.

As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg.  
I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down. 
I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier. 
The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth.
I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy.
The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.

I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer.
I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times.
I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.

The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed.
It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes…
 Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!

Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet.
My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on 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 hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards.
Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.

There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.

Time to get a meal.
This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .

I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
DDDD DAWNED
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Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,
One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,
I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,
I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say… 
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
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I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

These time-consuming procedures were carried out without Accifauxpas—just one cut shaving and an unintentional shoulder charge on the doorframe on leaving. Which set off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, who soon calmed down afterwards. The medicationalisationings went very well indeed. (No, I’m not joking) For some reason, creaming underneath the catheter strap bleeding did not hurt one iota! The new type of barrier cream is more effective than the old one. Or, due to me being in a mood because I had just drifted away into the ether and left me feeling free?

A decent, more normal-coloured morning shot from the kitchenette window when I was making the first of what turned out to be far too many mugs of Glengettie, Co-op 99, and Thompson’s Punjana tea? 

I sorted out the waste bags and put them near the door.

I dropped the , as a series of Shaking Paroxysmal Dyskinesias seizures visited. Each lasted for about a minute, with about two minutes before the following one came along. I had five, I think. But there was no tumbling or falling with them. All of the seizures can’t be controlled and are like Starmer; they come, do anything they want, and kill people (pensioners & farmers in Starmer’s case) at will… but of course, the seizures don’t lie or take backhanders, unlike our hated, loathed, despise, lying by omission, figure & fact destroying, Tory-like Labour PM, Fürhrer Keir Isod the voters) Starmer. Who would be defenceless over his lies and manipulating facts in any court of law? But, of course, this is the HMG we are talking about.

Only today: Again, Starmer is laughing a loud lie.The Prime Minister has told Louisa James that pensioners will be better off in the long term under Labour because of the tough decisions HMG makes to stabilise the economy.
Hahaha!
But I respect his skill and determination to be and use a great misleader, with his slithery sidestepping, hocus-pocus, and mumbo-jumbo in the Houses of Parliament.
May He Rot In Hell! (Soon!)

At this point , increased in frequency and variety. Two mammoth ones included.
No memory notes left to use on the writing pad.
Around 05:00 hrs, the seizures got less frequent and were almost copeable with, as Carer Christopher arrived.
I had to stop writing the big ode and blogging. Glaucoma Gladys was fuzzing my eyesight, as she does after I’ve been daft enough to use the computer for so many hours.
I blame my love of odeing, which didn’t come out. It needs amending and catching up on in the morning. Indeed, this will require a lot of work and a smaller (above) ode writing, as initially, it was going to be the Alphabet Ode today, so I’ll do one in the morning. That reads confusingly to me? Sorry.

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

What a magnificent pose!
Glad to report that Andy’s servant, Doug, says that the lad is now back eating his greenies again!
Just look at the expressionable face Andy is putting on. Showing to me Contentment & expectations. ♥

Carer Joanne called, bless her heart, to return my laundry.

As Carer Christopher came, and I was feeling better after the seizure flood, I started feeling hungry. I took this sunset photo as I checked what I had to choose from for my daily meal. I bet Herr Starmer has more than one meal a day. Chris took my diabetic socks off, medications were issued, and we had a mini-waffle session.

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

Corned beef & potato hash.
A pot of instant mash, with a pinch of salt and black pepper, and a fork of Marmite added and mixed in, along with some garden peas.
With a pot of Ykos lemon yoghourt to have for afters. Nice! It went down well.

Now, I had to stay; I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. Huh! Zzzz!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Doctor this coming Thursday.
Need help with DDDD.
The seizures are coming more severely.
Hope the Doctor can help me.
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TTFNski!

Inchy’s Alphabet Ode

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s rubbish, I know, but a bit of fun?
Cheers, Each!
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Inchy: Thursday 20th February 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’ve often been maladjusted, & maladministered,
My mind has often mused and meandered…
To topics that were miscomprehended,
Possibly, because I’m muttonheaded,
Peripheral Neuropathy gets me misguided,
I do things, say things that are misintended,
Links, intentions get misconnected…
Wrong spellings get miscorrected,
Plans, & intentions may be misconstructed,
Deafness can make things miscommunicated,
In 1965, the UK was sadly metricated…
Another HMG con job manipulated,
Centimetres’ in, inches & feet mutilated!
: : : : :
2025: UK pensioners exploited by Starmer,
Then, he overtaxed the family farmer,
Repeatedly proved he was a persistent liar,
He talks to you like an annunciator…
We’ll do this, you do the other,
His smugness & immovability is an appetiser,
Heralding, the coming political quagmire…
Resulting in his being proved an ambuscader,
No PM has had a chin that is squarer,
Shame he isn’t fairer, more honest or a carer,
His red cheeks indicate him being boozier,
He’s so smug and self-preoccupied…
Credit due, he tries to look dignified…
As he’s cheated, robbed, & lied!
A Labour man who’s been Toryfide!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
A disastrous start to the day? Yes!
A busy day? Yes!
Seizure’s hampering on & off all day? Yes!
Visits? Yes!
However, progress made with the help given? Yes!
Again? Yes!
While a Carer was in attendance. Yes!
On each of the wearying, there were at least six visits. Yes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Last night’s kip was horrible! I was getting woken up by one thing or another again so often. I’ll try to explain the new thing I had overnight that added to the jumping awake count. In between Eric’s Electric Shocks shooting up the right leg, Twitching Neck Nigel trying to break my neck, and Shoulder Shudding Shirley trying to dislocate my right shoulder, I believe I had some nocturnal seizures as well while asleep. I don’t suppose they were that, but they shared a similarity with some of the day seizures. As with the shorter day seizures, I can often feel them coming on, and these short ones can be repetitive and usually leave me feeling a smidge confused sometimes and always feeling weary, tired and exhausted. This likely accounted for me falling back to sleep quickly after each one. I think? I had visions with them… well, I sense I had, and they all connected to my early life. The Meadows, where I was dragged up, and the Nottingham canal that I got thrown in as an ankle-snapper were both in there, amongst many of the vaguer-memoried others. 
I’m not keen on going to sleep at all tonight now.
Still, the Doctor granted me a telephone appointment for 7 days later, so if I can survive until next Thursday, I’m sure a few words over the phone will soon have me feeling better.
Sorry about that! Hehe!
Hence, The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:00 hrs: I gave up on trying to get back to sleep. Although I’m sure I could have quickly enough, what prospectively awaited me had I drifted off was not appealing.
This is all new to me, the second night like it. But much worse than last night was. I suppose if it happens again tonight, I’ll have to ring the Doctor again and ask her to bring forward her 7-day appointment for an emergency appointment via a telephone call. I can go through the ‘You are 29th in the queue’. ‘You will not be talking to a doctor but a patient assessor’ once again… Tsk!   Again!

Doing the ablutions I ramped up the Accifauxpas total somewhat. The usual with the shaving, 4 today… oh, cuts!
But the whole time in the wet room, there was no sign of .
The medicationings was going well until I had to stop medicating and use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation started of with a reluctant torpedo slowly edging its way out, with some encouragement from me. Then it altered and flowed out almost liquid? Amazingly, it didn’t leave any of the usual gutwrenching pongs!
I cleaned things up and got back to the medicationing.
 I lost my balance as I got up from creaming the ingrowing toenail and fell backwards, landing on the shower chair that tipped over (well, it would with my weight hitting it, I suppose). I’d not hit the deck and stayed above the chair. I managed to haul my elephantine body back up on my legs with relative ease. As I was considering activating a , I felt the blood trickling down my left thigh. But it was not a lot. . The top holding strap must have got sticky with cream, and when I tumbled, it polled some hairs out and a bit of skin from under the belt. Despite all this, I was still in grip of . I finished the medicating and got dressed. Then, realising how far behind I was with the blog, I thought I’d better get on with the Ode first.

Carer Shaquille arrived. He fitted me with diabetic socks and handed me the medications. I asked him if he had the time to call the Social so I could order some more catheter bags, as I only had two nocturnal ones left. Just in case, I’d already ordered some from Amazon on the computer. They should be here today. So if they are, no panic mode is needed. Shaq did so for me, and it’s much appreciated. They should be here by Monday at the latest. 

.
Everything was harder to do and concentrate on, and I was badly gripped by it for several hours. I had no drive or determination at all. During this time, I’ll try to recall what happened. There was nothing on the notepad at all.
To make things worse – I couldn’t find Koak Tim 2 AGAIN!
I looked on the stovetop where I found it the other day, but no luck. What the hell’s going on with me? I got the loan camera out, but the batteries were dead. And I wasn’t confident enough to try out the leads for fear of using the wrong one. Then again, I was sure I would find where I’d left Kodak Tim. 

In the late afternoon, the Intercom rang. I thought it was the door chime, so I didn’t respond at first. Then I realised and hobbled as hastily as possible to the box, but it stopped as I reached it. So, I went downstairs in case it was the catheter bags, and they had left them in the foyer.
Down, in the lift, and as I got out, nine people were waiting to get in. I limped to the foyer but could see no sign of any parcels. Back to the lift, five people were waiting to get in, and one more arrived. I should have gotten in first, being on a high floor, but I didn’t think of it until they had all got in. Then I joined them, and it was a tight squeeze, not that I minded.

I Love it, getting captives to listen to my nattering on. Haha!

When I returned to the flat, I found the catheter bags outside the door. The day bag was a single one. £8.99. I got caught out there, moneywise, and a bag of ten nocturnal pouches for the same sodding price!

Again. There was no spell in between this time.

Relaunched attacks. And nothing got done of any value; Duncan & Sandra had got me beat.

I did have another search for Kodak Tim 2, but it was joyless. I thought I may have gone down to the lobby with it, dressed, and nipped down to investigate. Nope, it’s not there.

Carer Christopher arrived, and I asked him which charger fitted which camera. He wasn’t sure, but both connections fitted, so it should be all right. We gave him medications, chatted about the nighttime mind kerfuffle, and off he trotted. I totally forgot to ask him to have a search for the Kodak.
So, I had another search around for it. Nope!

Time to get some food. Came to life the moment I unexpectedly came across Kodak Tim 2!!!
I’ve made up two imaginary places and put the one where I found the Kodak. What do you think?
1: In the fridge?
2: In the microwave?
3: Shelf under the sink?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I took these two photos of the sunset straight away. I don’t think I meant to take two, though. Do they look the same to you?
Maybe I kept my finger on the activation button for too long?
It could have been caused by my excitement at finding Kodak Tim 2?

Then. I got on with preparing the meal. A giant feast of beef in black bean sauce again. Two Parsley boxes. I added extra water chestnuts, extra sauce from a jar, potatoes, and a sprinkle of Pryprawa seasoning. Placed in a microwave-safe plastic tray. And guessed at microwaving them for  4 minutes. Singlely, they needed 1.5 minutes each.
I opened the door and stirred the mixture halfway through.
When it pinged, I removed the lid to see if it was heated enough. It wasn’t, so I put it back in for another minute.
This is the prepared and ready-to-gobble meal.
It was pleasant tasting and not too peppery.
But, after eating for a few minutes, I found undercooked cold bits and pieces. A shame!
Next time, I’ll give it a bit longer in the microwave.

The mood had been with me for over two hours now. And still, after I’d washed the pots, Carer Christopher made the late call! He whipped off the diabetic socks, and medications were given.

I settled into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. I turned on the TV and chose a channel with three consecutive programmes.
Heartbeat, then Sherlock Holmes. I nodded off several times when the adverts came on but saw most Heartbeat episodes. One that I’d not seen before.

Carer Christopher made his last call. No medications were needed. I was still in a mood!❤ 👍🏻 Carer Chris departed, taking my laundry bag with him.

I continued to watch the Sherlock Homes film. Edward Woodward played Sherlock differently, with less apparent overacting.
This 1990 TV movie, Hands of a Murderer, was his only portrayal of Sherlock. It’s a pity that following Basil Rathbone as Sherlock was asking a lot of any actor.

I turned off the TV and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. I know this, but I can recall nothing about the dream! I hate it when this happens. Hehe! I slept for about three hours. Then , and both almost made me bolt upright. Threw some wobblies as well. This was around 04:00 hrs, so at least I managed to skip for at least four hours! After this wake-up fracas, I could not return to the land of nod! I lay there, willing to go back to sleep. I realised that I had no Nocturnal Seizures like the previous two nights. YIPPEE!
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Today: A better Ratio of 35%,
Against, 65%

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TTFN
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Inchy: Wednesday 19th February 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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THINGS I’VE MISLAID, But not DDDD!
I recall losing my spark and ebulliency,
That disappeared relatively early,
As for my romantic… we’ll call it urgency
The desire remained, but not the capability,
It didn’t help having a toddler named Inchy!
Some sessions were like a farce, or comedy,
I did my best to offer some excitancy,
Usually offering the gal only oscitancy,
Until I met Grizelda, tall, thick & muscly,
Who declared her love of danglers, mini,
Our sessions made us both happy & giddy!
We mated, rhapsodically repeatedly…
She would always ritualistically,
Throw me on the bed, into reverie,
I swear we produced radioactivity,
It was our seven-times-a-week proclivity,
That was before I went all rheumatically,
But now I’m nearly an octinarianary,
With a catheter stuck in my Willy,
Incapable of any sexual prithee,
Even recalling Grizelda’s memory,
Her hairy chest, & biceps is risky…
Cause it always gets me frisky,
Willy grows; things go painfully!
Now my urges have left me,
But I never had enough adequacy,
I had to get by somehow, accursedly!
Imipramine, for depression, 3 times daily,
Thus, I lost all urges, sexually…
Started considering things, funereally,
Depression and Peripheral Neuropathy,
I got shot twice; the arm and knee,
I went bankrupt financially…
I hung on a bit longer to my morality,
A mechanical aorta valve was fitted, thankfully,
Now, when I wake up, it’s half-heartedly,
I look back at things I did unwisely,
Unthinkingly, recklessly or tactlessly,
No doubt about it, I exist apathetically,
Bladder cancer made me live virginly,
I’m still here, still terminally…
With the seizures & DDDD; mental anarchy,
Never again to pee voluntarily,
Barred from any sexual activity,
Glaucoma Gladys, blurring what I see,
I got an appointment at the doctor’s surgery!
Nine days away, for 27 Feb, next Thursday,
I won’t see her, she’s going to ring me!
That’ll be good if I talk stutteringly…
Will I hear her, knowing I hear deafly,
Let’s be honest here, does it matter?
But I’ll not be a quitter or attritee,
Guess who’s just left me? DDDD!
I’ll make the best of it, & brew a mug of tea!
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Flashback to 1965
GNCS (Greater Nottingham Cooperative Society) 118 store, Arleston Drive, Wollaton, Nottinghamshire. I was the Fresh Fish & Greenfruit Department Manager then. I have so many happy memories of this store. I’ll share a few if you don’t mind.
The Manager was a Gentleman, Bill Morris, my much-admired mentor. Many years after the above photo was taken, when the store had to close, I was promoted (if that’s the right word) to Lily Grove Greengrocers shop. It was an old serving counter store with a grocer and butcher in three separate units.
Mr Morris retired. He passed away shortly after leaving 118. It’s sad, but he taught me much, and I admired him.
We had an armed robbery early one morning before opening the doors. I heard some shouting, and I went out of the back door to the front of the shop and caught the number and colour of Hillman Minx they were driving away in. I recognised one of the three in the vehicle. Informed the police went to the nick and was interviewed. I got the impression they thought I was involved in the raid. Credit to the police, they caught all three of them within two hours of the attack. I had two visitors to my flat the following week. They advised me not to identify the bloke I had already identified. I phoned the police while they were threatening me. They couldn’t understand or were pig-thick and carried on the threats while I was on the line. I was so angry with them, as a siren was heard, one pulled out a gun… which I knew was a starting pistol, cause at sports club we had one exactly like it. I must have sounded rather brave as I swore at them and stopped them from escaping before the bobbies arrived. Looking back at it, I must have been a different person then. I wouldn’t do it now; that’s for sure certain! In court, their mates said I would pay for this, as they were found guilty and sentenced immediately. Thankfully, I never heard from them again.

I enjoyed writing that. Mind you, I was in a high mood when I wrote this.

Sorry, not much on again. Had a few decent spells.

I detached and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch and collated all four waste bins into one bigger one and placed them next to the door. I got the kettle on, made a nice strong brew of Glengettie, and had to divert to the wet room .

This was even more gooey and sticky than yesterday’s evacuation! By the time I’d cleaned up and returned to the kitchen to get to the mug of tea, it would have been pointless. It was bound to be too cold! So, I decided to get the washing procedure done early.

Started with the shaving today. And broke a record, I reckon. I acquired seven cuts, all bar one (under my chin), on the back of my neck again. Still, they were all tiny efforts, and the Brut soon stemmed their flow. The stand-up wash went quickly enough, as did the teggie cleaning. Suprisingly.
The medicationings and dressing had their moments!.
The top strap sores on the catheter holder were… what can I call it? Sore, and they became even more painful when the barrier cream was applied.
bled a little, but not a lot.The other areas.were nae bother.
The Phorpain Gel was well-used. in both knees
needed a good lathering. And and were massaged.
I could not reach to get the Germolene onto the split ingrowing toenail. I used the picker-upperer to put some tissue on the big left toe.
And were applied. I’m so glad I don’t use the drops now. More of any ete dropping missed the eye and usually ran down my cheek and into my mouth. Hehe! Much more straightforward with the gels and sprays. They cost a lot more… but I can’t take the money with me when I clock out. is with me as I type this; I’m pleased to see a little humour creeping back into the blog while 
Has taken a temporary furlough from his haunting ways. was done without much bother for once! .

Finally I  .
Now, I must tackle getting the PPs (Protection Pants) on.
I was doing so well with the help of the picker-upperer.
I’m not sure how I managed it , but somehow, I caught the release valve while making the final adjustment. Drip-drip-drip… Unwanted semi-panic, I closed the valve, grabbed the large kitchen roll and picker-upperer to clean the mess up… and dropped the roll. Naturally, it bounced on the lip and dived as if under remote control. Splunk into the WC! I finished the cleaning, mopping, freshening up and getting dressed. Not the socks, of course, which are beyond the capabilities of this ageing bad odesmith, with a magnificently muscled and highly toned body and razor-sharp brain.

Made another brew of 99 tea to replace the cold one.
I took this morning’s shot from the kitchenette window, and Carer Shaq arrived just as I returned to a state. I could not stop waffling on. I think, anyway. He put the socks on for me (I knew they were on later), and medications were issued.  

Belatedly changed the clock calendar. And the day’s started. They were most persistent today. (More later).

And the seizures mean a blank or lack of details of the later Iceland delivery. Yet, I found these photos taken without the slightest memory of taking them.
The fridge… no freezer.
Not much in the fridge?
I’m not sure about what or why this was taken.

Returned later, and I got a good crack on blogging. Albeit interspersed with the mini-seizures throughout, and being error-ridden, needing so much time ot correct so many cock-ups. I may have overloaded the Grammarly memory that is available. Haha! 

During Carer Kimberley’s visit, it seems I had several seizures that she witnessed. When I came out of one, she told me that I had been ‘out’ for the longest time Chloe had ever seen me. I was muttering words that made no sense for a minute or two, as if she thought I was asleep and having a dream or nightmare? As she left, she made notes of this on the log. Also told me she recognised two or three of the mini-seizures on this visit, those I was not aware of at all. Then again, I may have got all this wrong or confused due to the seizures. But I think this is one of the more explicit memories. But…

I recall cleaning the old cooker and under the new one and vacuuming, I think, when Kimberly arrived. I’ve found these activities in the morning, down on the notepad.

Hours of doing nothing. I can’t honestly recall turning everything off on the computer, but I must have. On Thursday morning loading, the Ccleaner had been used, so I had to sign in to everything again.

I suddenly felt drained, so I made a meal. Carer Promise helped me with the timing of the cooking.
A mixed bag of Beef in black bean sauce meals with extras!
A tray of Parsley Box Beef in black bean sauce.
A tray of Iceland Box Beef in black bean sauce.
One went into the oven – 15 minutes later, the second went in.
To try and get them to be cooked simultaneously.
Removed from the oven, some garden peas, water chestnuts, and boiled potatoes were added to the slow cooker.
Result:
Some milk-roll bread for dipping. Haha!

I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights.
I didn’t make it. I drifted off into a deep sleep… but only for an hour. Jumped awake and found myself talking? It took me no time to nod off again.
After that, it got farcical and frustrating.
As I recall, it was almost a different type of cause for waking up again, which felt like they were every five minutes.
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Eric’s Electric Leg Shocks, Coughing or sneezing, and the most often one was from Twitching Neck Nigel. I think these may have been caused by Sleeping or Nocturnal Seizures?
I’m glad Carer Chloe helped me get an emergency appointment with the Doctor on Monday, the 17th, for Thursday, the 27th. So a ten-day wait to get assistance, and then it is only via a phone call from the Doctor, not a visit.

I assume the seizure problem is based on or coming because of my FND and/or Peripheral Neuropathy links. There are many possible etiologic agents for FND. I seem to have most of them, according to the United Kingdom FND site on Google.

I had my worst night’s sleep ever. It was worse than two weeks ago; I had none for three days.
Still, the Doctor is rushing to my aid. Phwert!

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