Medications

Inchie: Tuesday 10th March 2026

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFN
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Inchie: Thursday 4th December 2025

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0515hrs: I burst into life, bounded of off the bed and did a double somersault, catching the night bag as I landed on the floor and did fifty swift press-ups. Then ran yodelling away into the wet room and removed the night pouch. A bit of shadow boxing then…
Well, alright then...
0515hrs: I woke up in the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
I had to force myself t stay awake long enough to get up and fight against Dizzy Dennis and Lost-Balance-Belinda, as I painfully got the nocturnal bag freed and emptied. I was not in good condition, mentally of physically, this morning. Confusion Konrad had a grip on me. However, despite these things, I started the day and within 10 minutes of using the Porcelain Throne, guess who visited me? Yes, it was good old, much missed, and very welcome !
Trotsky Terence was in charge of the evacuation. Messy, very messy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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The end is nigh. No need to say why!
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Inchie Today: Sunday 23nd November 2025

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunday morning catch-up.

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

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

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🤎 MAY PEACE & JOY INVADE YOU 🤎
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Inchie: Friday 26th September 2025 – Medical appointments flooding in

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Pondering his theme, for his Ode this Friday…
Sometimes an idea comes to him immediately,
But you know Inchies’ unreliable memory!
His themes get intermingled, like a musical medley,
Differing, wrong words creep in meddlesomely,
Guaranteeing the resulting ode is, at best, mediocrity,
Gets a phone call or visit, back to his odeing for Inchie,
His themes and ideas, now written nonsensically…
The chances of a Seizure will naturally…
Inspire a blank brain, ideas, inspirations go aborally,
He waits for the return of logicality, contemptibly,
Starts feeling sorry for himself, self-piteously,
Which leaves his creativity in assymmetry…
Dawns, distressingly,
does not show up; depressingly,
Inchie stops, can’t cope, has had enough… feels sleepy?
Inchie climbed into bed, but it was agony…
From the thrice-fractured left hand and knee,
Carer Ejaz assisted me, helpfully…
To get stood up back on my knee… 
Ah, that stirred a thought, for me personally, 
My Fracture Clinic appointment at the QMC!
I have to arrange transport for Friday, October 23,
Both ways, to be at the fracture clinic for 13:30,
Carer Ejaz called & spotted another Inchie whoopsie!
The appointment was for 22nd October, not for 23…
He’s aware of my problems physically & mentally…
Checked an online order, I’d ordered a Christmas Tree!
He did not act in any way risibly…
Just cancelled it, and had a laugh with me!
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I reluctantly woke up. Realised how late it was for me, gone 06:00hrs – and forced myself through the agony of the much-fractured left knee pains up on my feet.
In the midst of this suffering, I had a visit, the first in a week or so, from Anne Gyna.
She seemed to be concentrating on my mid-chest area, which at first made me a bit concerned that it might not be Anne, but rather another new ailment related to the ticker. But by the time I’d done my morning balance testing, she’d nipped around the right side and had a stab at the left side of the neck, then returned to concentrate on the chestbone area, so I knew it was Anne Gyna and had stopped fretting about the situation. A pain you know, is better than any new pains, methinks.

I saved some of the contents after emptying the nocturnal catheter pouch into the pot I keep for such matters, so Carer Ejaz could check the colour.

I hobbled into the wet room for a fruitless and movement-free evacuation. Still, there was nothing to clean up. Hehe!  The other three visits of the day were all the same. An extraordinary amount of wind escapage, but no movement from the innards, torpedo-wise. Mmm!

The much-fractured left knee seemed even more painful today. (And it got worse on Saturday!

I got stripped and ready to tackle the medicationing and have a good scrub-up, and Carer Ejaz came.
He found some out-of-date things in the fridge and removed them for me. He told me to remember to check them every day and to remind him to… We both laughed out loud as we realised what he’d just said; His telling-me-of-frown melted in a big grin, as he saw the look of credibility on my face, and he said, “Oh, I realise what I just said – I asked you to remind me!” The shared laughter had us both in a fun mood in seconds. We do have a laugh regularly, but this one was even funnier than ever. Hahaha!
Me, remind him? There would be a greater chance of Herr Starmer admitting he’s incapable, a liar, and then topping himself. (But we all need hope).

I think Ejaz and I both missed each other while I was incarcerated in the Cardiac, Geriatric and Fracture Wards in the Queens Medical Centre for so long. With dear, sweet Jenny welcoming me back and the joy on Ejaz’s face when I got home, those moments were precious for me. I am a big softy!

Ejaz got the diabetic sock on my feet. Did a body check and Porpained gelled the knees and cartilages. He spotted a red patch under my right arm and put some Barrier cream on for me. 
He read the letter from the fracture clinic and was dubious about their suggestion that if I stayed off my feet, things might improve without the need for surgical intervention, given my age.

Back to the wet room, and took another failed evacuation. Seems it is the turn of Conrad Constipation to rule things for a while.

I am now at the page, where I was writing things down while in a mini-seizure. Cause it appears a lot of things started happening, but most of them are unreadable scribbles and far too meaningless, with the odd line of clarity. A bit like Ex-Barrister and Pensioner-Robbing Starmer? The event that followed lasted for approximately five hours. About a quarter of the notes here were readable, so a lot was missing. Even Ejaz couldn’t make them out. The odd words that I was certain of have comments of a “take-it-with-a-pinch-of-salt” about them. 

A letter from the fracture clinic. I managed to get mixed up with it in classic “Inchie Style”. Saturday, Ejaz pointed out I’d recorded the appointment in the Google Calendar for the wrong day and time.
Hard to believe, I know! Well…

A District nurse called on me to ask a load of questions. I could not make out anything else I wrote about this, but it was a page & a bit long.

A phone call (Mobile) from the Neurosurgeon’s office arrived. After a few minutes, as I didn’t understand much of what was said, we lost the connection. This new mobile phone is rubbish!

Another call from the DVT Warfarin Unit came in (Landline). An appointment has been made for October 1st for the Warfarin Blood Test. I think they are responding to each of the blood tests taken in the hospital, I was having about eight a day, I reckon. I’ve got pretty bruise patterns on both arms and the back of each hand; they are fading now, just as I was getting used to them. Laugh? Yes?

The following three items were unreadable. Possibly, I was writing them while in a Seizure, the nurse said. How can that be? Beats me.

Rubbish bins tackled.

Can’t recall taking this.

Ejaz, on his teatime call, spotted that the burgers in the fridge had sell-by dates for today.
So, I’ll get them done with some chips for supper.

I tried to sort out how to take the wheelchair pads on and off. Hehe! Not the foggiest idea!

Bootifull!
For an unknown reason, I got chest pains after, even while eating this meal. Indigestion, I imagine. Taking Peptac didn’t ease it at all. I took a Codeine 30g.

An amazing sky tonight.

I got a late landline call from the DVT Warfarin lady. They will be calling on me on the 1st of October to take blood for testing. I feel I got a call like this yesterday. But who knows what’s going on? It’s indeed not me. My mind has always been confused over the last few days. I’ve been saved several times from making a blunder by Carer Ejaz (4), Sweet Jenny (2) and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden Deana (1).
I’m not exactly in a confident mood whatsoever at the moment. My mind seems to be changing from incompetent to… well, it’s not working correctly at all. High-Mood-Horis has abandoned me. My evacuations have gone from watery, not making it to the Porcelain Throne in time, to over the last two days, nothing but wind has passed from my rear end. I must ask Carer Ejaz to give me some Laxido. I dare not ask him until tomorrow, for fear of nocturnal torrents escaping while I’m in bed tonight. I suppose I’m morphing into a mental & physical wreck. Oh, I like that description, oh yes, spot on, and witty!

Which will go first, I wonder? The ticker’s obviously now an odds-on favourite. Maybe Duodenal Donald, or now that she’s back and in good form, maybe Anne Gyna will nobble me? 

Ideally, whichever ailment or body part that knobbles me… I might make a an odds list? Hehe!
Which ailment will have me over? Cartilage Chloe? The newly fractured left knee? Anne Gyna? Water on the brain? Will Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding? No, the ticker failing is my favourite. If only High-Mood-Horis would visit with his gift of installing one of his amazingly satisfying “Sod-them-all” moods. Then it wouldn’t matter. Not that it matters much anyway. If High-Mood-Horis would only pay me a visit. Especially when Dark-Dank-Depressing Darius is dawning without warning, and his blessed “Sod-them-all” mood, would be so welcome.

There’s no question nor doubt about it…

As I was writing this, ♫Oh, Susana♫ burst from the door chime as Carer Ejaz made his last call. Glad to see him, I always am. But, unfortunatley, after he’d departed, I’d forgotten what I was going to write, and what there was no question nor doubt about!
But I’m there was no doubt… Sad,innit?

Humph! Thank heavens for Ejaz coming.

# = # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #
Have a Blessed Peaceful Day!
# = # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #

Inchy Today: Saturday 12th July 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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I’m not sure of the theme of this Ode,
My brain took off on the highroad,
I’d got harrowed and I heehawed,
I’ve more facts I’d like to Herald…
My memory, that once glowed, is now gnawed,
But my brain is Doreen Dementia-Dominated,
I feared her when she first bestrode…
Into my skull, with Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, behold!
I don’t pass wind, I sort of noisily displode,
I live with Doreen… Ah, yes, she’s this Odes epode!
This, and my ailments, I spent years enwallowed,
Her qualities I studied and furbellowed,
But my struggles multiplied by a myriad,
So I wrote this little palinode,
I hope you are not too pshawed?
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THIS DAY OF OUR LORD
I just had to show you the Mood results…
Much improved on yesterday.
Of course, there’s time for things
to go apeshit yet, I suppose.
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Going for a record here, to get this caught up with in record time. Probably the longest! Haha!

First chicken view.
That should be the kitchen view.

Health Checks Done
Blood oxygen was low.

I was up late this morning again, without realising how late it was, I poddled to get the
Done. Only got as far as sitting on the Porcelain Throne, nothing evacuated again!
This is the fifth ‘No-Go’ sitting in three days! And two more failed efforts later on!
Hope something moves soon!
Carer Ejaz arrived. He took a snapshot of my legs and issued the medications. He performed a body check and judged the urine colour for me. We swapped farewells as he departed.

Back in the wetroon. All five teeth left were cleaned. Cut my gums. I shaved (one cut), medicated my ailments, & off to make a brew.
Got the cheesy rolls out of the refrigerator.

Second kitchen photo.

Checked the fridge, the
Silesian sausages were in date.

Third kitchen window shot.

Computer on. Catching up on yesterday’s blog took me three hours, plus I got carried away writing a second Ode. Hehehe!

More hours sorting, loading, saving and eventually filing photos in CorelDraw.

Another brew made,

Carer Mizra was in a rush, bless him.

I’m blogging more, but I’m not getting on very well.

Went to make up another water bottle, and put it in the fridge so it’d be cooled later.

The bread rolls I photographed had been in the direct sunlight. They will be edible now.

Two more bottles of water were made up.
I’m peeing well through the catheter!
Wish I could pass from the rear end!

SUNDOWN SERIES

Nice!

Time to do the WP Reading and comments.
Late now, tired out, and it feels like Anne Gyna is going to accompany me with the meal and sleep. She doesn’t half pick her times!

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Sweet Dreams!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 3rd July 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I was told to prepare for all contingencies,
I looked this word up in local libraries,
I accidentally looked up continencies,
Was it summat about taking a piss?
Why would Dad want to tell me this?
He also said I can recall the basics…
On yer paper round, don’t talk to strangers,
And don’t put on any airs & graces…
If anyone tries to rob yer, kick him in the knackers,
If you tear a paper in the letterboxes,
Put a note through with your apologies,
If a dog bites yer or attacks with its claws,
Don’t scream or make any noises…
Waking people up will bring annoyance & grudges!
In the rain, don’t get the paper wet with smudges,
Alright if it gets damp, but not if it oozes,
And use blinds or drapes, but never portières.
I’m not too keen on raviolis,
Not up to doing any exercises,
I wake before the day rises,
That’s due to my nocturnal seizures,
Strong chill, too hot, but I like milder spices,
Used love fondling, groping in various guises,
I’m too old to have any sexual fetishes,
Now, a mug of tea & listen to the Archers,
In pain from the fallen arches,
Stuck indoors, no need for coats & parkas,
Some people are nosey-parkers, not the nurses,
The last woman I fancied was into parrillas,
It was shocking, and she charged us!
Still, I’m ready for reembraces!
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Hectic day again.
I’m miles behind again; at this moment, it’s 16:55hrs tomorrow (Friday)! Just got this far with the blog!
A few notes of the day, No doubt some lost and not o the notepad with me getting more and more uptight & frustrated. Then, the few photos I’ve taken.
I’ll have to stop to make a meal sometime, so I will have to finish this Saturday morning… I’m getting Anne Gyna back again now, and she is not in a good mood with me. Well, she can… Soddit! Duodenal Donald has joined in now! Grumph!

Anne Gyna woke me up at 0520hrs, so I rose and sorted out the night bag. Went to make a mug of tea and make an early start on my Wednesday blog finishing. Thinking I could catch up, I’m losing this. Hahaha! pillockCarer Ejaz arrived. Medications were administered, and ankles, feet, and legs were checked. Much better all round, great!
I spent hours on Odeing, searching for new words to use and getting carried away.

Then, I decided to search for a place that sells footspray and Co-codamol.

Lost hours with the time needed to come out of the many mini-seizures. So many blanks.

Erm…
Afternoon Clouds Delight

Well, things indeed became more concentrated after I made the meal: A baguette cut into three, no-butter butter, many slices of salted green tomatoes lashed into them. A Silesian sausage and crisps. 
I found the pot of jelly on Friday night; I’d dropped it when I fell asleep.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd July 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I created the daily Ode eventually.

Care Ejaz arrived. 

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

I started this actual blog. Made a brew.

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

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

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

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

Then back on doing this blog.

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

Late afternoon shot.

The fridge after Carer Josie had finished. Nice!

The meal of the day, Stew!

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Dasvidaniya!
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Inchy Today: Satur’Rotten’day 24th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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This is a sort of disclaimer.
Defending my brain’s abductor,
My cerebrum needs a new alternator,
Today, full of Whoopsiedangleploppery…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Good Glory!
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
As I write this, it’s 16:00hrs, Sunday,
07:15, I mean on Saturday…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Thoughts gory!
Struggled with the Peripheral Neuropathy,
Arthritis and cartilage, bad in each knee,
Glaucoma was making things hard to see,
I cut my finger on the zester,
Porcelain Throne visits, never messier!
What people said would not register,
My catheter tap was left open, pathetically…
Slippers, socks, feet, carpet wet, you see?
Leg ulcers turned deep zaffre…
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
No one had time for a chat or natter…
What bit of hope I had began to wither,
I didn’t know if I was here, there or whether…
It was pouring with rain, a change in the weather,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan dawned,
No visits from High Horis, I felt scorned,
I got confused with the dates on the calendar,
The computer has a blue screen, whatsoever,
Each caller had a different Carer,
Lost without Carer Joe, he’s on holiday,
Fought against dates, mathematically,
My thoughts sadly went argumentatively,
And I was only talking to myself, sadly,
Then, I think you may agree…
I suffered catastrophe after catastrophe,
I washed the pots and put them away,
A Carer from the ICC,
Which naturally distracted me,
She left, I discovered, agonistically,
I’d left the tap running again. Glory be!
No ablutioning today as well, I can see!
Cleaning my togs first, carefully…
Rarely for this year, it was still rainy,
Then I tackled a job most risky…
The bowl of disinfected hot water…
To the main room, I had to porter,
No Accifauxpas, with that water,
Stuck my feet in the bowl, with anti-fungal,
But I forgot to fetch the towel…
So I dried off with some kitchen towel,
Went to empty the bowl in the in the WC,
Dropping it as I poured it into the toilet bowl,
I stubbed my toe, boy, did I howl!
I wanted to throw in the towel…
Instead, I made a brew…but I couldn’t find it. Nor my mobile!
Give up, swear, curse and growl,
Depression Duncan was invincible,
High Horis was absent or invisible…
Most of this is immaterial,
Bad-luck? I’ve had jugful…
I sank into a mental jungle,
My mind was in a twisted muddle,
Too many problems to juggle,
Life seems no longer manageable,
Everyday, more mishaps & trouble,
My brain & soul are no longer mutual,
My joints & bones are no longer malleable,
Problems not hideable or mothballable,
Cognitive Impairment, sanity not recuperable,
I’ve no slippers left because I’ve pee’d in them all,
Proving that I’m ever more adorkable,
I still feel that life nowadays is not workable…
I also seem to be growing more sulkable,
My thoughts & ideas are now circumstantial,
I sense I’m becoming somewhat augural,
In High Horis’s absence, I’m apoplectical,
I was once perceptible, & palopable,
Will Horis ever return? I’m still hopeful,
Gawd, that entity made me so cheerful,
Does this read all agathokakological?
With problems neurological & physical,
Seemingly ignored by anyone medical,
What chance? Is logic salveable?
Unobtainable, unreasonable, or unworkable?
Sorry, this may sound morbid, apocryphal,
It’s just that I’ve had a belly full,
Dementia, Incogniscence… are they…
mendable, rectifiable or even explainable?
I made a meal that looked rather eatable,
Unfortunately, in the morning, at half-past two,
I’d only been in bed for a minute, too!
Off again to the Porcelain Throne, I flew,
I had another ,
The evacuation started before it was due!
Much foul language was used, I can tell you,
It was unstoppable, smelly and impromptu,
More time lost, much cleaning up to do,
Arithmetic, I nowadays misconstrue,
But, did I enjoy my meat & potato stew!.

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Just had a short visit from!
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Today felt like anything go-wrongable went wrongable. Repeatedly.
My mind took a holiday.

Scribbled notes on the pad and a few photos triggered some memories.

04:20hrs: Removed the nocturnal catheter bag.
I Put the kettle on. Then, I soaked the socks in disinfectant from the urine mishap—how many times has that happened this week? I made up three waste bags. I put them near the front door, where they remained for two days with the following added ones. Could I remember to ask the caregivers to take them to the shute? No!
I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Tuesday.
By then, I’d overwritten the pictures taken as I got them all mixed up with each other. I must have lost at least a dozen photos! Self-hatred, stupidity, and a smidge of anger with myself.

Yet again, Unbelievable!
I was emptying the day bag, and the intercom rang; it was the Carer. As it seems habitual nowadays, I did not fully close the bleed valve on the catheter pouch.
More foul, self-cursing emanated.
Another high-risk activity is carrying a bowl of disinfected water to remove the pong of urine on my feet. Mind you, I’ve done it three times (not closing the valve and carrying water from the kitchen to the front room and back). No, I’ve done it four times this week. I ran the hot water tap cold six times. And I swore (Estimated) 12,456 times this week thus far. Only one more day left to increase these figures. (Which I can you now, I did!)

All my slippers are already in the laundry bag.
And with the Carer not putting on the diabetic socks, I walked the stink all over the rooms. I was not up to mopping, but I sprayed all the carpeting with a fabric freshener and the rooms with air spray. I still can’t find the small blue towel. But give me time. I’ve only been looking for it for two weeks. Untidy is the kindest word to describe the flat.

I think this photo might be from another previous day. Cause I can’t recall any prescription medications being delivered. Mind you, later on, when I got a phone call, the lady asked me why I had not attended the meeting with the neurologist at The Ropewalk. I felt silly asking where the Ropewalk was.
After cringingly apologising and thanking her for setting up a new emergency date for the examination (August 28th), I checked my calendar. There was nothing on there. .

Not sure about this photo either.

Or when this one was taken.
What day was it taken?

I went to get the much-needed ablutions done, but I needed to use the porcelain Throne first.

Morrison order. The photos have been overwritten—all of them! No, hang on. I’ll check to see if I put them in the wrong folder. I’d be daft enough to have…
Well, after searching, I could not find them in any file. I went on CorelDraw to download Tuesday’s files and realised I’d left the photos on the CorelDraw page. So, I had to change all the names and save them again to use here. I sense big cock-ups in the offing!
I found some snaps.
I think these were the right ones.
But…
They are, I’m nearly certain.
Well…

I had better stop here if I’m getting deeper into a quagmire of confusion with three days of blog photos and notes and the wrong days of events shared between the three. I think duplicity is a possibility for these three blogs. Sorry if this is so.

Many photos in the preview are different from those in the editor. I’m sorry again; I can’t find out why. If this continues, I’ll have to give up. Anger-Making!

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 20th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>
Humankind leaves a lot of residue,
I’m not referring to their phoo,
Warmongers, murderers we can’t subdue,
The end of the world is well, overdo,
Remembering Twiggy, in knickers, see-through?
My mind and body can often go skew,
As can life, but what can we do?
Whatever happened to the segue?
Honest politicians? Gone, but whereunto?

Why the shortage of the drumbledrane?
Why do they free killers again and again,
Why does the NHS not use enflurane?
I waffle on, am I, or not inurbane?
Tablets issued for physical pain…
Codeine, Morphine and lidocaine,
Neuropathy and mental problems remain…
Making one live in the transmundane,
If it’s not a new pustule, boil, or blain…

No doubt about it, I’m an apologist,
Can’t remember, so I assumedly,
Did I say or do it? Memory, no access,
I stumble verbally, so awkwardly,
The seizures know no boundaries,
No wonder I act bizarrerie,
Still have glaucoma and blepharitis,
With whom do I argue and have a barney?
Mostly twixt my own brain and me!
I’m not the cleverest or blessedest,
Christened as a Primitive Methodist,
I have to go; I sense an incoming banshee!
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In and out again today.
No notes to use. I wrote the new Carer’s name and the Porcelain Throne performance and took photos of the food delivery.
Gawd, I live an exciting life.
I think I was out of it, more than with it today. Although fair does, around 17:00hrs, I got some visits from , and at last and then finally gave me a rest. Anne returned later on.
I think I’ve taken too many painkillers today. 
But I was in more pain than for ages.
Gawd, I live an exciting life.
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.
I woke up at about 0410 a.m. I changed the calendar clock and then turned on the kettle.


Took a morning view shot.

Then, I felt the innards rumbling. Hello, I thought this was going to be different. Convinced that Constipation-Conrad was preventing the wind from escaping. I poddled to the wet room. And a good job I did, too! Ruled the proceedings. The stinking, gooey evacuation was worse than ever today. Eurgh! Cleaning up took longer than passing the motion. I had a good wash and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of Glengettie. However, my attention strayed as I heard the sounds of fire engine klaxons. This is possibly one of the most extreme photos I’ve ever taken. So, different…
Yes, I got something wrong there, methinks!

I forgot about making the tea and started finishing yesterday’s blog. I was trying to get it done before the food delivery arrived. I was still doing it two hours later when the delivery arrived
I spent a while sorting the fodder out.
Blimey, how many carrier bags were here?.
I soon realised why. I’d ordered two weeks’ worth of spring water bottles (eight x 2-litre) and some crisps while they were on offer. (4 packs of five bags)

Nurses & Carers treats.
Bit of fresh kinds of stuff.
Naturally, Kung Po sauces.
Fridge
Freezer

CorelDraw was used for an hour or three.
I was making up blog date graphics. The new version will not let me save anything, so I’m on the last year. They usually use blackouts when a new one comes out to force us to buy the new one, and this happens every year.

Balnks for hours.
Total mystery what was going on.

Regretfully, as I thought I was returning to faux awareness as Carer Farone was here, I started the meal. I went back to the computer to find that CorelDraw had frozen. I had to turn it off by turning off the electricity. It took me ages to do it, and CorelDraw saved some of the changes, not others. I assumed I did them after the last save I made. Of course, with all this, I had to smell the burning meat in the oven to remember it was cooking in the oven. I had a few mini roast potatoes, so I popped some in the oven, which was already hot!
Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated.

Then Carer Ejaz arrived. I could not find the oven glove to turn the pots over, and he had little time to issue the medications for me. He had a mock look for the mysteriously missing oven glove. After the lad had gone, I had another every-room search for the missing glove of mystery.

Forgetting again about the food in the oven!
The potatoes joined the beef slices in the waste bin!
Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated. 

I had a bag of crisps and some nuts, followed by an iced sucker… I broke another tooth, ¾ of it! Seven missing teeth now, and just to add to the misery, & my gums were bleeding!
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Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated.
Mind you, I was!
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Why didn’t I get the nickname of ‘Lucky’?
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 13th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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SMUG-MODE ENGAGED
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Thinking!
Thinking back, I began to hallucinate,
Here, giving me a cuddle, was Auntie Kate,
I guess I beginning, starting to levitate…
Floating back in time, young again, lanate,
Grizelda began to maxilate…
Fondle, hugging me, & to mussitate,
We did things considered misappropriate,
Guilt? I no longer felt, nor was I novitiate,
Freedom, my thoughts no longer obdurate,
Physical ailments began to obfuscate,
Gawd, this illusion is super-great!
Am I dead? A ghost, or maybe a wraith?

Am I being given a forecast or a prophecy?
Am I dead or alive? I viewed this whimsically,
May I be en route to see St. Peter?
I’ve paid my debts! Rent or electricity,
Why do I sense that I’m feeling guilty?
Is this a dream, a seizure or a Whoopsie?
Griselda is still toying pleasurably with me,
I no longer feel elderly, tired or weary!
Under my bed is now a guzzunder,
I’ve not seen one of these since 1953,
What year is it? I don’t feel at all distressingly?
The sky and globe have turned all yellowy…
Opaque, angels, pink clouds, worryingly…
St. Peter has not yet greeted me!

Am I getting sillier? I feel more cheerier!
Is this an end-of-life bamboozler?
Wherever I am, it feels cosier,
I suppose it should, being free of Starmer?
Yes, I must have died; I’ve never been happier,
Oh, here’s a transparent cheerleader…
Glittering eyes, big bust, much curvature,
Ah, she’s just been attacked by Grizelda,
Maybe because she gave me a sly twire?
Heaven or Hell, I feel much toeier…
No bother from Gladys Glaucoma,
Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder or Anne Gyna,
Grizelda’s back, with handcuffs and a tether…
Prompting movement in the tallywhacker!

Well, I’m interested and acquiescing,
A billion-long queue of souls is forming,
Grizelda & me at the end, that’s galling,
It’s for St. Peter’s gate, I’m assuming,
For questioning and allocating…
Heaven or Hell’s door selecting?
Grizzly said, there’s a third door we might be using!
I asked for what? This is so confusing,
That’s for souls picked to be returning…
The answer was more than terrifying,
Sent back to earth, that’ll be intimidating!
For those chosen, Starmer will be waiting,
Still be cheating, lying, stealing & killing…
I suddenly came out of my daydreaming,
Starmer is still in power; it’s heartbreaking!
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This morning, I kept waking up at 04:00hrs.
Repeated this action endless times before nodding off again into a deep sleep.
I was woken up at about 07:30hrs. By Carer Ejaz. Who told me it had taken him about ten minutes to wake me up! I swiftly fell asleep again. Ejaz was concerned when I sat up and grabbed my lower belly in response to aches and pains. None were awful, but they remained for a few hours after Ejaz had gone. 
As Ejaz was issuing the medications, apparently, I nodded off again! 
I did not move from the bed during Ejaz’s visit. He removed the nocturnal catheter bag and applied Barrier cream to the leg-strapping wounds. They were much less bothersome and painful this morning. Being in bed for such a long time made the base of my sternum far more sore than it was yesterday, but the wounds looked better. Ejaz took this photo of the catheter contraption for me. I got the diabetic socks put on for me. Ejaz lost some time with having to rouse me. And I had to shoot off; I’d not moved during his visit.

When Ejaz left, I fell asleep yet again! Hence, there was little time to catch up or much photographicalisation today.

When I finally gingerly got up on my feet, my stomach ache steadily improved. But my concentration was not good at all.

I got on the computer, and the catheter pouch filled shortly after. When I went to empty it, the tube on the release valve was not there, making many messy emptyings throughout the day. I searched the flat, thinking it must have come off when Ejaz emptied it. He usually does not take it off. Sometimes, he’ll put it on. After failing to find the tube, I thought he might have pulled it off when he removed the nocturnal bag. He then put it in the kitchen rubbish bag, which has since been put down the waste chute. So, I’ll struggle on. Let’s face it, I’m good at struggling. Hehehe!

I was prepping to get today’s Ode started. But feeling better in myself now. Then…
I found I’d left the damned hot water tap running again. How many times in two days? Three, I think!

A massive vagueness overcame me. It stayed visiting me until about 16:00hrs. It was in full flow when Carer Joe called around 13:15hrs. I’m unsure what we spoke about other than Joe’s plans to start sorting the clothes in the junk room tomorrow. So, maybe there will not be a blog for tomorrow, for the first time since I was in hospital in 2007. I think, but thinking is no longer a strong point for me. Hehe!

I took this snap on the left from the kitchenette window. I remembered to cause
I knocked a jar of mushroom ketchup off the window ledge, and it landed on my . 
Not that it bothered me at all. I merely laughed it off and started singing to myself.
Then, I took another memory, prompting a snap of my beloved tree copse. I may have used the wrong photo here, or the computer posted the wrong one? Anyway, taking this snap hurt me more than the toe incident.

Then I realised that the sun covering Khagoule had fallen into the water jug on the floor.
So, I had to hang it on the shower curtain in the wet room to help it dry out. I also turned on the heater to encourage it to dry.

I visited the Porcelain Throne as well. Trotsky Terence was in control.
It was a messy job that took a long time because there was no hot water. Did I mention I’d left the hot tap running earlier?

The sun died temporarily while I was fetching water from the kettle, and walking with the walking stick was a bit risky.

I got some potatoes into the slow cooker that I forgot to tell you about earlier. 08:00hrs approximately) There are no secrets on this WordPress blog, Inchy Today!

I’m back on this blog after checking, updating and posting yesterday’s post to WordPress. Then, I started on this post.

I’ll check the potatoes. This is going to be a long job. Turn them (if ready), put them in the basin, bash them up, add no-butter butter, sea salt, Worcestershire, and Soy sauce, and then the tricky bit: grate and mix in Leicester cheese. Put the mixture in the oven and cook until the top has crispened. Prep[ping took me 35 minutes, and the washing things up after took me over half an hour.
I pray I don’t let them burn… Please!

It took me hours to get the potatoes sorted and mashed with the shredded Leicester cheese and red onions. I found evidence in the morning, blood on the fridge door that indicated a cut thumb or fingernail) I washed the pots and put the dish into the oven to crisp it up nicely. This usually takes a good half-hour. Here it is before cooking.
Carer Joe arrived as I was putting it in.
Medications issued. Joe said we would start sorting out tomorrow in the junk room. He’ll take the laundry down to the washer, come back, and we can sort the clothes out. This will free up many coat hangers. Because there are so many trousers, jumpers, shirts, and coats that no longer fit me. They don’t call me Mr Blobby for no reason, you know. Haha! He should have time to nip down, get the laundry in the dryer, and dry it for once. Joe’s got it all organised beforehand, which is a great help.

The potatoes were removed from the oven and put on a tray with some bread. I added some cut tomatoes, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV to eat the meal.
It took me a while to eat it all, but I did!
Then, heaven… Zzz!
Carer Ejaz woke me up two hours later.
He removed my diabetic socks and mended the nocturnal catheter-damaged day bag. He also added a tube from another point to the current one. I checked the kitchen and bathroom and got my head down, but I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter pouch on. It’s hard to believe, I know.

So, when I was woken up by the pain from poor Little Inchie being tugged on with the weight as the pouch filled up, I had to get up to empty the pouch post-haste. Could I get back to sleep? No! 

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But it didn’t Bother Me, Hehe!
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