Medications

Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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GC blondeTHE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
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A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
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04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about. 
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris. 
I’m losing the battle.


After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today. 

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado. 

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two? 
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages. 
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into 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. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

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Eigðu góðan dag – Have A Good Day
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Inchy: Monday 24th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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My pons may have become unattuned,
Pon a part of my brain abovementioned,
This has not medically been ascertained…
Just by my going lamebrained!
And visually, mentally purblind!
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Deep Dank Depression Duncan darkened,
Anne Gyna’s pains then reawakened,
I didn’t feel hard done by or condemned,
When the seizures emboldened,
My confusion exploded.
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Then I seriously contemplated…
My thoughts were multi-dimensioned,
I was soon feeling mentally drained,
As my limited capacity broadened,
My search for truth was disillusioned,
The more I gleaned and learned…
My faith & hopes were expunged.
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Was humankind Frankensteined?
As I saw a misty logic, I frowned,
Humankind’s faiths have not intertwined,
Humankind, revenge, greed, hate-ladened,
Always for wars, we’ve munitioned,
Compassion is no longer gleaned,
Commonsense is being overburdened!
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Words and gestures are too often miskened,
For peace, this world is not provisioned,
Genuine, kind gestures are unreturned,
Murdering, wars, unrestrained,
They were when killers were guillotined,
Now, after five years, they are freed,
And politicians are full of self-greed!
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Toward forgiveness Some are inclined,
For all who have misdemeaned,
The law is an ass that’s got beclouded,
HMG with oligarchs elected,
Muggers and rioters cautioned,
The future I cannot comprehend,
Not with Herr Starmer in command!
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– – CRACKING START TODAY! – –
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Today, Tuesday (Domestic), Wednesday (Financial, email, letters), and Thursday (Doctor’s appointment) are all going to be very busy. I’ll need patience, and they are going to be very time-consuming. Concentrating is necessary to avoid mistakes and prepare for the visits.
So, the blog will not have much detail. Unless, of course, I win the lottery big time! Then, I can afford to go private medically and pay for extra help. Oh, bother, I forgot I don’t do the lottery! Hehehe!

Sorry for the lack of the usual rubbish.
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Sprinkling of rain.

Another sprinkling of rain.

Afternoon.

Afternoon.

Evening.

Medications looking relatively low. Some part boxes on the Carer’s table. I counted how many of each of the tablets, medicines and creams there were. The arithmaphobia made it hard work, but I think I got it right. 
Then, I called the chemist to assess the situation with the delivery. She said it would arrive on Thursday or Friday, but they didn’t. No doubt I got something wrong. I had! pillock The patient lady said or meant to say that the prescriptions would arrive at the chemist then. The delivery is monthly on a Wednesday. I’m still not sure which Wednesday, though. I was going to ask, but I was concentrating on what she was saying and didn’t want to interrupt her and get it wrong again. I asked her if it was this Wednesday, and she said yes.

So, I assume the delivery to the flat will be the last Wednesday of the month.

A lot is done in one sitting on the

Franks & Chips (bread coming in the morning)

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Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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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 acquaintances that are 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, so I must curb my 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 it 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?
I 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 richer, the best 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 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 yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was 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!
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I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap. 

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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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!

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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 Friday 21st February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I’m not so acrobatic, more aquabatic…
When the catheter plug refuses to stick,
Tablets, creams and antiseptic,
A tendency towards being apathetic,
Learned today I’m agammaglobulinemic,
Realised that I’m obsolete, old, and antique,
Hopes & abilities, are not within my ambit,
I’d be better off out of it, abiotic…
More problems today got me apoplectic,
Life is a struggle, with little aleatoric,
Seizure troubles, Depressions… amphigoric!
I’m just stating life’s assertoric,
Everyday calamities, all amphigoric,
Not long ago, I was carefree, apolaustic,
Contentment? I long ago lost it…
World leaders turn greedy & autarchic,
Leaders used to be so moralistic…
Humankind’s future is but apocalyptic…
Catastrophic, cataclysmic, adiaphoristic!
Starmer ruins the UK, not apologetic,
To honesty & compassion, he must be allergic,
To self-wealth, Keir is apolaustic,
I’d like to buy him a soda, caustic!
He seems so stoic, sardonic, & satanic,
The fact that he’s scholastic,  semantic,
He doesn’t seem to understand sympathetic,
Backhanders taken, the crooked schmuck!,
Labour’s values he does besmirch,
His speeches are hypnotic, soporific,
He is beyond being fair or sociologic,
When he talks, it’s rhetoric
With lies, deceit, all plethoric,
Is it possible for words to be pathogenic?
Cause his lies make me sick, phrenic!
His unwarranted greed is so apodictic,
His behaviour is psychosomatic,
His biggest lies used by pretermit,
His known lies have been so plethoric,
Sorry about this rant; was it poetic?
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It’s been a nightmare today. It is now 17:40 hrs, and I’ve got the above done. It’ll be well into the morning before I get this done—if then! I’m going to have to rush, so mistakes and timings may well confuse you and me! Sorry. I’ll just accept Grammarly’s suggestion, even if it seems wrong. I’ve a lot to get through cause I had some mega-muck-ups. Not early on, things went decently, but as you can work out from my errors, the pain caused Anne Gyna to tear into me when I was uptight about the happenings. I’ll try not to go into too much minutiae and still get the message across.

I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning.
I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had things bleeding later on.
To the kitchen, took a snap.
Smidge brown sky? Tons of scribble I can’t read on the notepad here. Late on in the day, the Glaucoma seems to get much worse each night.
I’ll pick out the bits I can read.

Carer Joanne’s first call. Had a small but plwant nattwe and moan about things. We do that!
Ah, I did get the Thursday blog finished. A call was made on the intercom, and I assumed the supply of catheter bags was arriving. But no one arrived at the door. Now, a problem. Someone might be on the way up if I get dressed and go down to see if they had left it in the foyer. Left it a while longer. By now, the thought of them getting nicked got me all uptight, and Anne Gyna started; on the way to the lift and down to the ground floor, I had several mini seizures. As I exited the lift, Carer Joanne was getting in with my laundry, bless her.  
We found a box that had been left in the lobby. It was from Parsley Box, the ready meals. Joanne carried it with me back to the flat. When I got in, an email said it had been delivered to the customer. This wrangled me. Joanne kindly hung the things up for me, and I emailed DHL and Parsley Box. Here’s a copy. Both were the same. 

After I admitted the DHL driver to the flats, the parcel was left in the ground floor lobby. 
After getting dressed, I went down to look in the lobby. Then, suffering from Anne Gyna and a seizure, I was lucky enough to bump into a Carer as I got out of the lift.
Carer Joanne tended to me and carried the box to the flat. 
She will complain to Parsely Box and explain that I dare not order anything again for fear of the same thing happening again. It involved just too much hassle and physical pain. I live in this Warden-Aided Block of Flats (Flat 72, 12th floor), where the box is usually dropped off at my door.
I am disabled and not in good health, which is why I was ordering Parsley box meals.
I’m not seeking compensation; I’m just disappointed and need to look for a different supplier.

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I had a bit of a mess with the lift in the first place.
But can’t read enough to say more.
I got an email from the Post Office about delivery coming tomorrow, but not the catheters. Also, the prescriptions have not arrived, although they may have been dropped at the Carers office. I’ll phone the chemist in the morning.

It’s no good I can’t read things here. I’ll get the photos taken; they may trigger my non-existent memory.
Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done.
Emptied the Parsley Box meals.
Stake Hotpot.
Corned Beef Hash.
My favourite one here!

Tomatoes, they all had something in common…
The tomatoes, I mean.Miniature bottles of shandy.

After Anne Gyna calmed down, the Mini Seizures
started, and she could do nothing for ages, and didn’t.

Carer Chris made the teatime call at around 17:15hrs, and the medications were given.

I will go on the WP Reader and then clean the place up a smidgen. Get some nosh now. I thought I’d got bread in the freezer, but I haven’t. So, I’ll have loads of Nordic bacon instead to fill me up.
The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.

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Fare Thee Well!
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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!
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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!
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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!
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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?
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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!

– – – – TTFN – – –

Inchy: Tuesday 18th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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– MONDAY MORNING BLIMP –
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GENERALLY WAFFLE
DDDD’s then unnatural highs…
I’m either spouting fripperies,
Tweedledum’s, then Tweedledee’s,
Both or either, but rarely neither
No solution, no help, no arbiter…
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The DDDDs swapping with the highs is eclectic,
Leaving me mentally drained, endorheic,
Lows are deep, highs make me ecstatic,
Why lows? That remains somewhat esoteric,
Change of moods, without any logic…
: : : : :
I suspect it’s something neurophysiologic,
Mental or Peripheral Neuropathic?
High, Low, High Low, very methodic,
Lows can be curmudgeonly, choleric,
Highs, for no reason… neurotic!
: : : : :
I can no longer remain an abnegator,
I’ll make an appointment with the Doctor,
Say how DDDDs make me feel blanker,

Two sandwiches short of a picnic, seizure!
Beg for help with my dysphoria!
Oh, and tell her of my gastrectasia.
: : : : :
A five-cut shave was quite an achievement,
Because Shaking-Shaun was absent,
Porcelain Throne call, a Trotsky Terence Torrent!
This morning Anne Gyna was so condolent,
Sandra’s Seizures the opposite, calcitrant!,
Ankle Ulcer Ulrich was not urticant!
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Dementia Doreen had my mind all volitant,
Seizures repeatedly came and went,
Another letter, writing on it said ‘urgent’,
A bank letter, unhappy at what I’d spent,
An email which caused befuddlement,
I’ll pay the bill; be acquiescent!
: : : : :
Food, power price up, & the rent,
Starmer gets me feeling termagant!
Nicking pensioners’ fuel cost grant,
As PM. he’s a dishonest abomination,
The Tories did less damage to the nation,
His election stance was anticorruption.
: : : : :
Keir should be served a summons or citation,
Arrested, hung, in any combination,
For his lies and known transgression,
Never has a PM been more unloved,
He at least, should be vilified & reprehended,
Criticised, castigated, but not castrated!
: : : : :
He may be academical, but he is not an Aristotle,
Hid backhanders are not apodeictical,
His lies turned voters apoplectical,
His smugness come over as antagonistical,
His past actions are somewhat adumbral,
His responses are agathokakological!
: : : : :
No oligarchs are interested in antipoverty,
Nor peace, compassion or any amnesty,
Selling arms to both sides, but not equally,
They make fortunes with utter efficiency,
Innocent victims dying daily,
Safe, in their towers, sipping Drambuie
: : : : :
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A busy, tiring & trying day. But some progress was made. I got an appointment with the doctor. No, I’m not joking! 
Carer Chloe helped me as I called the doctor’s surgery to make an appointment to get help with DDDD, the Seizures and the ankle ulcer. What a performance it was! The recorded message told me I was fifth in the queue. Recorded messages kept playing, but they were too loud for me to understand them. Sounds daft, but anyone with ménière’s disease would understand the problem. A wave of Chloe’s hand after everyone told me to ignore them, they didn’t matter. Finally, a message telling me I was next in the queue and informing me that I would not be speaking with a doctor, but an Appointment Assessor. I did! She took my details and reasons for wanting to see the doctor. Then, I explained that it would be a telephone call job from the doctor. On Thursday the 27th between nine & twelve. That helped my depression no end. Here is a memory prompter; Can you remember when medics would say, “We’ll keep him in overnight for monitoring”?

I’ve not been well today at all, but apart from DDDD and the seizures taking a tumble, there was no apparent cause for the reversal either, again. Yet, High Spirits Herbert kept popping back up now and then. Puzzled!
Not any detail other than impotant stuff, to me.
I fell asleep this afternoon for hours 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. A sudden feeling of weariness flooded over me. I might be disintegrating bit by bit? Hahaha!

Nocturnal Catheter Bag.

Morning kitchen window view.

First things first!
I increased the shaving cut to seven this morning. All tiddly little ones. I also cut my finger when cleaning the razor.

Finally got on the computer.
Changed the dates on the clock calendar.

Choe made the first call and then the second, which was domestic. This was when she helped with the mail and doctor’s non-appointment. Hehe! She also checked the dates on my fridge foods and hoovered the hallway. Taking a threatening letter from BG about my needing a new electricity meter down to the Warden’s office.

Carer Sam did the midday call.

I fell asleep due to a sudden feeling of weariness dawning.
It’s not as if I’d done much.

The bacon & cobs tasted terrible.
All the others were delightfully tasty!

Carer Christopher took my diabetic socks off. Medications.

Night-time snap.

Did some catch-up on this blog.
Then, onto WP comments and the Reader,
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Hasta La Vista!
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Inchy: Saturday 15th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I met with the Doctor & we nattered,
There was talk of my being neutered?
After the local gal who I’d carefully nurtured!
My emerging passions looked numbered,
I’d misheard; it was the hearing aids I needed,
I went to Ivy; she said she had been nominated,
I made my move. Is she ready to be mated?
Then, I asked if things could be negotiated,
Mentioned about me being buried or cremated?
Without thinking, I said I was getting hornier,
And she threw me into a corner…
Over the years, as I have grown older,
Ivy moved to live in Oxfordshire,
Ah, our first fumbling manoeuvre,
It was far from being ordinaire,
I thought I heard an orchestra…
She was older, a good instructor…
I thought our romping was over,
Now, 70 years later, I bumped into her,
She too, now had a pacemaker,
We went to the flat, we started to perspire,
The amour flowed, she looked even prettier,
Passion and satisfaction we did acquire,
We repeatedly satiated our desire…
I got weary, but I wasn’t a quitter.
I wished I was 70 years younger…
As I rolled off, and she had vodka…
Belatedly, I answered, ‘I’d prefer being cremated!’
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03:30hrs: I jumped back into mock life with the two-morning regulars  and shot up the right leg from, I assume, coming from  . Which made me take this snap of the ankle. It’s definitely better than it has been for a day or two. 
I got the Nocturnal Cather pouch detached from the day bag. I got the kettle to make a brew using two of Thompson’s Punjana tea bags. They seem so weak nowadays. A little like what I am! Hahaha!

I adjusted the old-fashioned Clock Calendar near the computer on the 1962 Hopewells E-Plan cabinet with the laptop on top of it. And the hinges, broken doors and discoloured, cracked top, and three draws with only two openable.

I made up the waste bags into one and put it near the door
Then, as I made the brew of Punjana, I took this shot of the view from the kitchen.
Then, after forgetting to drink the tea, I meandered into the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne, initially.
COR BLIMEY!
I got myself settled on the plastic seat, and nothing would evacuate. What a change from yesterday’s almost liquid ten-second evacuation! After a few tentative urges and no response other than pain, I got the crossword book and pen. 
I even got a few answers in as well.
But then again, I had plenty of time once the monster torpedo crept out a little… and that was it for fifteen minutes more pain as the unmoving brute stretched everything stretchable!
I could feel the warm blood on my bum, then my legs.
Finally, things began to move again, but so slowly.
There was at last relief as the beast dropped almost with a thundering thud… and the water shot up and spray cleaned the blood on my bottom for me. Haha! Joking there! 
I soon got myself and the blood cleaned up. 
Then started the ablutionalisationings. Teeth first, then I started shaving. The strange hairs growing on my neck just didn’t want to be cut again. I tried all three pairs of razors. Humph! Why it bothers me so much, I don’t know.

While finishing off the shaving, Carer Christopher arrived nice and early. I did a quick medicationing of the Acne & Eczema, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the crutch and man breasts.
Christopher gave me the medications, got my socks on and went above the call, and shaved those damned hairs off of my neck and up my head. They were growing now!
Much appreciated that. How come for forty years no growth, now it starts? Another of the many mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?
Or, not like. Haha!

ANOTHER MYSTERY!
Could I find my Kodak Tim mark2 camera?
Unbelievable! After a half-hour search, I gave up. Yet felt confident I’d find it later. Which I did… 8 hours later.
The real mystery is how I couldn’t find it in the first place. Once I saw it, I remembered putting it on top of the microwave when making a brew earlier. Sad, innit? Still, in the searching sessions, I did find the sink unplugger. That was underneath the hospital bed. I know, I know! And the toothache spray was underneath the 1962 Hopewells E-Plan cabinet with the laptop on top of it. With the hinges, broken doors, discoloured, cracked top, and three draws, only two openable.

So, there are a few photos for today’s blog.

Carer Joanne did the midday call. She helped me sort some paperwork. Thank’s gal. The seizures, absent previously, started kicking off when Joanne was here.
And they repeated for different lengths of time until teatime arrived. Then, eased off a little.

I made a food order for next week. JS Tue 6>10:00hrs.

Carer Christopher made the late call. Took my diabetic socks off. He returned the involuntarily pee’d-on slippers that had been washed for me. Much appreciated that.

Battered fishcakes, and some with tomato ketchup in the centre. Both are from Iceland. Both delicious! I used up all the remaining fresh garden peas. Lovely! The pickled beetroot was soft enough not to bother my remaining crumbling teeth. The thing that lowered the taste rating a smidge was the terrible sour-tasting mini-tomatoes, Spanish.
An unexpected bonus tonight, well, three!
One: Not a single seizure while eating the meal. 
Two: Eric’s Electric Right-Leg Shocks didn’t strike once!
Three: Twitching-Neck-Nigel did jerk once while eating!

I got the things washed up and found the watchable TV programmes were all on the same two channels, straight through for four hours, ending up with Match of the Day.
I settled into the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, with a bottle of soda water.
I watched a Del Boy episode, then a Dad’s Army, and turned over to watch the football highlights on BBC 1.
I didn’t even see the start of any match. I slipped off into a deep sleep. It felt like I shot awake a minute or so later… but no! It was three hours later, as the football intro music and credits came up for the end of the matches!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Thursday 13th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I no longer seek an admirer,
Anyone to be an adorer,
One thing I’d like to acquire…
Is for someone to answer,
From someone like an augurer,
Why my life’s not been aglitter!
: : : :
To say why life’s been a bugger!
I’d have liked to have been brainier,
I tried to be a bagpiper,
To have been less of a blunderer,
I was born to become a blooper,
In life, I’ve always felt like a beginner…
: : : :
Not that I want to be a complainer.
With age, I’ve become more crotchetier,
I was never a gambler or cardplayer,
I didn’t want to become a conqueror,
I was bare, down to earth, not cavalier,
I admit to being a clodhopper.
: : : :
I’d sooner have been a dragonslayer,
But in reality, I’m more of a doomsayer,
Generally, I’ve fallen into disfavour,
Making me become a despairer,
Life’s becoming ever-drearier,
Harassed by seizures and dementia,
: : : :
Ailments taught me to be an endurer,
I should press on – but don’t feel too eager,
Should I see a medic or physic-examiner,
I not looking for a life-extender…
More interested in being an escaper,
The bliss of being an Earth expirer.
: : : :
Looking back, I wish I’d been flirtier,
I turned out funnier but freakier,
Like Keir Starmer the UK Führer,
A new movement must foregather,
With leaders up for going farther…
I bet it’ll be a pensioner or farmer!
: : : :
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– –Doing Well, Again!– –
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I’m so sorry, but depression is rampant.
Overriding the electric shocks up the leg.
Thankfully, Anne Gyna has been easy on me.
Can’t win them all! Humph!
Creativity is a minimum, as is the desire to bother.
I apologise again.
I’m still making up the 200 files I permanently deleted a month ago in readiness for my return to real life. I just can’t concentrate and have this overpowering desire to replace some of the word sheets from scratch. Nothing else got done much at all, really. I did get the early morning ablutions, shower, and shaving done by 06:30hrs because the ups and downs regularly changed to a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ happiness. To the other extreme of frustration and depression, especially early today. I was up at 03:30hrs, waking in a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ mode that kept reversing. No middle-of-the-road, either unstoppably on a high or sinking back into depression. 
I’d done the shaving, showering, and medicationalisations, and they were all on a high note. All finished and sank down again. Then I got this bug to make up some lost word lists from scratch. Done nothing else, really; I just can’t get it together.

I took a few pictures this morning, but the afternoon was spent on this stupid idea of making up some word lists.
I still do not have them on the blog, but I’ve started on it, although it will be sparse. I’ve used the camera for some photos and left the SD card from last night in the computer thingy slot. So, I hope they can be got at them. I’ll give it a go now… with a bonkers guilt about stopping the word list-making. This is just not natural. But what is?
I will book an appointment in the morning for any time I can get into the surgery with the Doctor; I’m genuinely worried now with Anne Gyna and the Seizures being so regular. The Catheters are getting cunning now, although they have not given way yet today. That threat remains. I need to make time to write down things that I am concerned about, and I will try to be more forceful and make her listen to them all. But I forget so quickly… I’m determined to.
There may not be a blog for a few days, but I’ll try to make a few notes and keep you all informed. Let’s see if I can access the photos taken, not that there are many.

Well, it took me ages and repeated tries, but I got them into CorelDraw on the fourth attempt. I thought the computer would let me save them this time.
Yee-Ha!
0345hrs Morning shot.

Rubbish bag to the doorway.

I had never had so many cuts shaving before. Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was the main culprit; after shaving, she stopped again. Huh! Still, they were all tiny ones and didn’t bleed a lot. And I didn’t bang my head!
The ankle ulcer had some odd-looking growths coming up. The electric shocks up the leg were on & off all day long.

As I dressed after the medicationings.
Depression arrived. No logical reason.
Nothing had changed, but this did not stop
the , and
he stayed with me until around 17:00hrs.
Then and the ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered.’
happiness mode kicked in. This situation has been
reversed so many times without cause
or reason. Up, down, up, down.
I must add this to the list in the morning.

I got the clock calendar undated.
And a mug of Glenettie.

Then, I lost myself and did nothing besides the word list for the ode and, eventually, the ode itself.

I did make a mug of 99 Co-op tea later.
Taking these photos.
When Sam did her 2nd call, I showed her the pictures from the camera. What is it he’s burning every Thursday?

I’m going to get some food cooking.

Back in the morning, I suppose.
TTFN.

This feast tasted so lovely, and I tucked into it.
Part-way through &
returned. Why? When I happily ate while watching
my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ on the box, with a
contented glow, seconds before?
I just stopped eating and threw it away.

Carer Chris called. Medications issues, he got the diabetic socks off for me. Christopher attached the nocturnal catheter bag for me. 

At least sleep came early. A broken, ever-jumping, awake session. In the end, I got up at 03:35hrs.
With the irritating desire to get the rhyme words upadted.
But resisted it. For a while!

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Cheers!
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