Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters failing – Page 2

Inchie: Wednesday 11th March 2026

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I finally forced my rhinoserous-like body out of the bed. I immediately felt this was a mistake. Back-Pain Brenda had been joined by electric shock-giving Neurotransmitter-Neutraliser-Nigel, in the back as well! It didn’t matter to Nigel what I was doing; he sent stabbing pains at random and is still ending them.
I took some morning view photographs. I chose the ‘through window’ option. But forgot to take the flash off. Hence, some interesting artistic shots capture the reflection of the inside of the kitchen interior. Haha!

Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had gone all temperamental, and if the wind blows on the right shoulder, I know about it. All in all, I was in a bit of a state. I pressed on and got the night Catheter bag off, and went to make a brew, but diverted to the Porcelain Throne. Not watery as it has been, but soft, gooey and sticky, and all over on one long fill-the-bowl session.
washed and teeth done, and panic reigned; Had I turned the tap off in the kitchen? I hobbled with Wooden-Walking-Stick-Walter to the kitchenette… That was the end of my plans to have a stand-up wash and shave; the hot water was no longer hot. I’d done it again!
After some self-lambasting name-calling, mock spitting, and cursing,
I took some more morning views. Without the flash this time. Oh, dear, another cock-up! I’ve put the same photo on twice and deleted the other to save space.
Without doubt, I’m losing my grip more than usual today. Hot tap left on, photo failures, caught the hand scratch on the drawer yet
again. Jenny put a plaster on my hand, bless her. Knocked a little bit of the scab off. Along with the new back pain, poor Jenny was coming up to meet Ejaz, and he hadn’t come or answered when she phoned him, likely with a client.

The days were late to light up, but it soon became sunnier at times. And Jenny and I had a little chinwag. She is such an understanding Angel. I’d be lost without her advice and help. 🌷🎀💟 Jenny asked me to ask Ejaz to phone her when he arrives to arrange another meeting, about setting up her old mobile phone she is gifting me, with Ejaz.

Rather dramatic, I thought. Then thought I may have put it on, and decided to check. This is when the computer shut down all of its own… Or I did something unintended or silly that made it shut down. without realising I had made another faux pas. I didn’t realise that I had, if I had. If you follow me? I’m struggling to! Feeling a fool comes so naturally to me.

I got the computer back on without any hassle and checked whether I had used the snap of the clouds on the left in yesterday’s blog. I had! But being a pareidolias delight, I thought I’d put on bigger anyway. I can see a face with eyes, nose & mouth. And a rocket of some kind is launching. What can you see?

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I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!
I got this email this afternoon from Oligarchal British Gas. The one that has not allowed Ejaz to get through to them due to a lack of signing on details. Cut us off over four attempts to speak to a human, at least. Ejaz has tried four times to get through to them about the very same issue. He took photos of the meter, and the instructions given to him on how to read it did not work at all…

The last time I spoke with them, the lady said, “Would you like me to send someone to check the meter?”
I replied: Yes, that is what we’ve been asking all the time, that would be super, thank you! Being oligarchs who charge £2 per minute to use their 0330 number on a landline, and so much more for a mobile. With a connection charge of £2-£6, depending on your suppliers’ charges. Then, surprisingly cut you off regularly. They are greedy and do not listen. Where are their call centres? Outer Mongolia?
Can I get any help? NO! Ejaz tried his best, bless him, but the ‘Engineer’ never arrived. Now I get a semi-threatening email and am pissed off with them!
No one can touch them!
If anyone out there in the bloshere can help me, please, please, I beg of you, help me! Citizens’ advice, maybe? If not, and I get massive charges and the power cut-off, I’ll be calling the Samaritans. Not that they accept any blame or responsibility. Oligarch don’t give a toss!
It’s just the same with Liberty Global-owned Virgin (Crap) Media, EE, BT & O2. ARRRGH!
~~The Bast…~~ Naughty People!
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I knew and know that situations like this are being imposed on the proletariat, the elderly and the mentally disturbed… on anyone gullible and powerless to resist, every day.
It’s the style of these Oligarchs, grubstakers, plutocrats, securities-brokers, stinking-rich, plutocratic, tycoonocrats, zillionaires potentates, magnates, nabobs, deep pockets fat cats, moguls, and Croesuses, Trumpites, the sympathy-poor, immoral, greedy, fatcats know no other way. The morally-inept, Mammonistic, parsimonious, unprincipled, pennypinching, penurious, pleonectic, money-oriented, bloodsucking, extorting, profit-motivated, flimflam, full of hokum, hardasses, Smoke & mirrors experts, facts and figures distorters and blurers, mumbo-jumbo answer-givers just can’t help themselves. And we, the downtrodden, poor, pathetic lower classes, can do nothing about their bullying, lying, hiding from their responsibilities, defending their call centre robots, cutting you of on the telephone: then the telephonic companies they own can make a fortune as they charge a connection fee for each 0300 number, and you should reag what Google said about how much they charge a minute, the cheapest is on a landline £2 to £6 a minute, mobiles start at £6 a minute. So they are in a win-win situation, making unkept promises.
I find all this fiendish & oppugnant.
In HM Forces, I was a good marksman, of course, my eyesight is going now, and how could I afford to get a gun and ammunition?
Even if I could, who would I shoot to kill, to get revenge? You see the frustration these uncaring, disinterested, insouciant, unconcerned, nonchalant, amphibological, clandestine, lying, uncouth, slithery-sidestepping overcharging, unnice, compassion-dismembered, supercilious oinks bring to the underdogs? If I could shoot their employees, it would not bother the oligarchs one bit.
The CEO of Liberty Global was paid $640m per year, with an undisclosed guaranteed bonus and company shares. How can a pensioner get revenge?
Anyone with advice? Please help.
I looked up who the CEO of British Gas is.
Chris O’Shea (born 23 October 1973) is a Scottish business executive. He has been the chief executive (CEO) of Centrica, the parent company of British Gas, since early 2020.
I wonder if he reads my blog? Hahaha!
Google tell me that he gets a base salary of approximately £1.1 million per year. His total remuneration package for 2025 was £4.7 million, including a £3.6 million bonus, for a total package of only £8.2 million. Plainly, we have similar lifestyles.
This is not getting at him, just any and all of the Oligarchs that do as they please with the lesser mortals, known in a previous life, as customers.
Then again, maybe he hasn’t got Peripheral Neuropathy, Glaucoma, a fractured knee, seizures, got a TBI, Cancer, a two-roomed Warden aided council flat, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, a Catheter bag fitted, or wears two hearing aids, got Cataracts, losing his teeth, lumbago, or dying Neurotransmitters. Not to mention the onset of Parkinson’s disease, a mechanical aorta valve fitted, and a toothache he can’t afford to have tended to. Nor a duodenal ulcer, lymphorrhea, diabetes insipidus, bleeding haemorrhoids, a fungal lesion on his todger, arthritis, onychocryptosis, receptive aphasia, had two strokes, got two boils on his bum or deep vein thrombosis?
Not that I’d wish any of these on anybody.
But then, I am not a nasty oligarch.
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Mash with cheese, garden peas, tomatoes and wholemeal rolls.
The photo came out a little dark, but British Gas has made me feel the same way.
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PLEASE HAVE A DAY YOU’D LIKE,
HAVE SOME FUN, REST & RESPITE,
EAT FOOD YOU LIKE, IN DELIGHT,
ENJOY EACH & EVERY SINGLE BITE!
HAVE SWEET DREAMS, TONIGHT 💟
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TTFNSKI!
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Inchie: Sun/Mon 8-9th March 2026 Horrific!

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Today was bad enough, gut-wrenching, piteous, and wretched. By the time I got around to starting this blog on Saturday morning, up until about 03:00hrs, hope had returned, and it seemed I was at last going to make some progress with it. But No!
CorelDraw, MS Word, and the computer’s shortage of memory ensured that Monday was going to be the worst day of the month. Sunday was bad enough. So, I’m putting both days of the same blog in hopes of getting at least some catching up done. Sunday’s memories faded as I tackled Monday’s surge of dingbats, computer cock-ups, Seizures, insanity and failures. Sunday’s tales are going to be in short-form, detail-wise. Monday’s events took over my poor, demented brain.
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Finally got to bed.

Waking up views…
A little misty out there.

Ejaz found the ‘missing’, much-searched-for Cancer Phoo Test thing I’d lost.

Did a body check, foamed the feet, and changed the socks… well, no, he didn’t come thinkl if it… or was that on Sunday. Confused again. It would help a lot if I could read my own writing on the memory pad. Then, as I was telling Ejaz about me losing the kit, he smiled a sarcastic, sympathetic smile, shook his head, and picked it up from between the pillow and cover. I felt such a fool!
My balance seemed a lot better today, despite my lack of sleep. And as Ejaz left, I found myself singing to myself. Cliff Richards’ The Young Ones’, humming to the Shadows’ Stars Fell on Stockton’, and moved on to a quick Yodelling song, Frank Ifields’ She Taught Me To Yodel’.
Then I grabbed the phoo-test equipment and off to the Porcelain Throne to catch a torpeo in the bucket for sample taking? But could I get anything to flow? No! I waited and waited, hoped and prayed.
Nothing, not a sausage! I crossed my fingers I would remember where I left the taking- kit. On top of the toilet roll.

I hadn’t felt this good for ages; I was almost perky! I got on the computer and made great progress on Friday’s blog. I reckon I started singing again, as I opened Excel to make the graph. To add a column for the weight of the passed urine to be recorded in.
I didn’t, and still don’t know what I did wrong!
But after two hours altering things, Excel froze!
I contained mt self-anger well if I recall rightly. I just closed it and left it for a while. Then reopened it.
I’ve never seen many messages come up on the screen one after the other! I checked on Google, asking their robot what I need to do.
That just confused me more. So, I did the usual and turned everything off, then started again…
Stupidly not saving the CorelDraw and WP work I’d just done, in my desire to get the Excel book back.

Booted up, pressed the Excel start button, and it did so. I chose the file to open, and it opened… but it was the same as when I first started it, hours earlier. I’d lost all that work! It was a struggle to sort it out because relearning how to use and manipulate the programme was so difficult to remember, and I thought I’d done a good job… but not now.
Another hour lost, then I had to start over.
Gasps of frustration!

Ejaz rushed to clean, dry, and medicate my feet and ankles. There was no body check this time.
He was so busy.

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Who is it? Does it matter?
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No doubt about it, no question.
This must be the worst snap
than I’ve ever taken.
The envelope for the phoo sample.

End car park, it looks a
little different to me?

Sheer frustration made me take this shot.
Three wheelchairs bought, and I can’t
use a single one of them! Humph!

I turned on the TV to watch some Heartbeat.

A new world record… for me anyway.
I felt like I’d blinked, and nearly nodded of and shot awake instead. Carer came in… I then felt the upsurge of acidity into the mouth, nose, and throat, so there was no guesswork needed.
This, I believe, was my longest ever seizure.
I turned on the TV minutes after he left on his previous visit. Seems that I’d been off into cuckoo-land for around three hours or more. With the recovery taking very little time, it adds value to my estimate. In the past, all short mini seizures had taken much longer to come out of. The longer ones seem so much easier. There’s a reason for this, but nobody told me what it was.

A snap here, of my right leg.
Pretty little thing, innit?
Hahehe! Seriously, though, it is far better today, clearing up nicely, now; thank you very muchly.
A bit dodgy when taking the bowl back to the kitchen sink. Can’t carry that and a walking stick, but my balance has much improved over the last two days. I’d like to say the same about Back-Pain-Brenda and Right-Shoulder-Sharia. But you can’t win them all. The odd one would be nice.

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Fings ain’t wot they used to be,
That no longer bovvers me,
I don’t say it antagonistically,
I ain’t talkin aggravatedly,
So good luck is an absentee,
I’ve got peripheral neuropathy,
Can’t see, cataract, you see,
TBI, and a fractured knee,
Catheter. no manual pee,
Bad back, deaf, Tothache Tiffany,
So many worse of than Inchie…
Arithmophobia, littlest ever willy,
But I get understanding from Jenny,
How did I get into this state? A mystery…
Please accept my apology.
Hehehe!
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All The Best, TTFNski!

Inchie: Saturday 7th March 2026

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The Porcelain Throne usage…
Produced not a sausage!
Constipation, in my dotage…
Went to do the check for the clinic,
But I could not find it,
I felt a right idiot,
My belly had grown more pudge,
My brain worked like a kludge,
While I was using Paintbrush…
My computer chose to crash,
I seemed to be gruff, habitually,
I could muster little advertency,
Got the computer going… Ah, Merci!
An hour later, it went down on me,
Hope I can get finished & posted,
Before Monday, a nurse expected,
Depression doesn’t need to be detected,
Darius all day, as I expected…
Seizures? Their number increased,
Thoughts, conclusions, indeterminacy,
Confusion Konrad at full capacity,
Self-lamasting, involuntarily,
I laughed aloud at about 17:30,
Changing intentions, ambiguity,
Hot tap left on, self-bellicosity,
Computer problems, self-loquacity…
Pathetic self-pity, close to lachrymosity,
KLife’s salaciously, a natural propensity,
I didn’t believe in serendipity,
On Ejaz’s last call on Saturday,
I went from the depths to feeling happy!
Ejaz found the Phooi-test kit, you see.
Then face a sigmoidoscopy!
Keep safe, go carefully…
💚 With bestwishes from Inchie 💚
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Morning view of the end carpark.

The knee & legs look better than yesterday.

Late morning, mist lingering late today.

This is a log of Goat’s cheese, delivered tonight, and I could not recall ordering anything at all.
Especially not for so late in the night.
Going bonkers here.

Evening view.
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TTFN
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Inchie Today: Friday 6th March 2026

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I’m so peeved off with not having good news.
I’m fed up with all the hassle I’m going through every single day this week; for more demands for the needed validations, confirmations, and various details I need to supply about my pensions, and bank details, just to get my application for a little more help started. But I’m not moaning, as such.
I should feel over the moon after Jenny 🧡, who set the ball rolling in the first place. And her kind attention given to me, and understanding of my problems. She’s been an Angel to me. 🧡
The precious help both of the Wardens had given me today. But, shamefully, I am more uptight than ever. Taps running, peeing on leg, foot, sock & slipper, going through the agony of having to take of the socks, fetch a bowl of Dettol water, wash the feet. Spill the water, carrying the bowl back to the sink. Going without socks or slippers on (pathetically, I can’t get these on without help) until the next Carer arrived. Totally confused about the paperwork and details needed for the NCC. Thankfully, as I said, Deana & Julie arrived and went through everything, a long, awkward job that I would never have got done on my own, and got me into my bank app, then sorted new passwords, favourite thing, memorable word, etc. for me to use later. That sorted, and they went to the bank’s site and provided the required details. Thank you, gals. Saved the day for me. 🤎

Ejaz arrived along with a trainee Carer.

I managed to make a cock-up with the follow-on Poo-test. I thought I’d taken the envelope and swab thingy into the wet room with me. Constipation Conrad was in full control today. I made three attempts to force things along, but on the second fail, I could not find the swab pot thingy. I searched all over, but failed to find it. All these worries add up. affecting my outlook and mood. Just when I had cause to cheer up, something went wrong again. Like me, leaving the hot water tap running to go cold, AGAIN. Luckily, after I’d washed and shaved. I was washing the socks when the nurse arrived. Broke my concentration; it takes very little to do that nowadays. Humph!
But, I’m just saying, not moaning. (Much!)

Nurse Rebecca arrived. Nice to see her again. She asked if I would like to be added to the MDT listing. She was not keen on the state of my right leg, where the Catheter had been removed from… yesterday, I think. I mentioned how I struggle and fail to get my socks on and off. Explaining the procedure I have to go through, after each of many failures to close the valve, and get soaked in pee. After Rebecca left, I looked up Nottingham MDT on Google. “The purpose of the Wrap Around MDT (WAMDT) is to ensure that people experiencing a high level of unmet need receive integrated health, care, and support”. Glad I said yes to Rebecca’s question now. This may help me get assistance with things? Whatever it is.

Carer Dilan. Told me, “Buy some small pots to take the Peptac in, and this will eliminate you from getting the dizzies when you put your head back to drink it.” Good idea. Not that I wanted to spend any more of my dwindling bank balance, but I ordered some plastic pots from Amazon after he left. He rang the pharmacy for more medication, primarily Bisoprolol Fumarate. (Beta-Blockers)

Deana & Julie did a great job sorting the details for the NCC assessor. And me, of course. 🤎

I let the hot water tap run cold again. Grumph & Spit!

A very interesting snippet here on the memory pad. As I see it with my catracted eyes, it read;
Poice fhomed wice, ap offer fire, twoce.
Any guesses, please?

Late Night Nosh – Nice!
No butter-buttered bread with cheese spread.
Imitation fish sticks (Nice taste).
Dried fried onions, I could not eat these, I’m afraid, they were too hard on Toothache Tiffany.
Beetroot. And surprisingly tasty tomatoes for the time of the year. Seaweed crisps, but light ones, thinner, so I managed to devour them. The crustless soft wholemeal bread was okay (But costly).
The mix of mature cheese spread and no-butter butter went down nicely. Finally, the lemon curd yoghourt finished it all off superbly!

Late Night View
Not very good, the best I could do.

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Nightie-Night – Or, Good Morning!
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Inchie: Thurs 5th Mar 26 – Busy, Confusing Day

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Sorry, but today’s busy planned and unplanned schedule was stored in my reminder notepad, but much of it is unreadable because so many things happened straight after one another. Things may be of of sync chronologically; some may be missing; some I hazarded a smidgen of guesswork to identify. It did not help with the activities of the day ending so late. Meaning I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Friday morning, after the Carers had been, and a one-hour failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. I’ll have to shorten a few of the event details, partly due to my inability to decipher certain words, and the cataracted eye deciding to give me foggy-bother so early in the morning. Plus, if I tried Roget it in its usual humour-traitedness, I would not have time to get it done by Friday or Saturday…
I’m waffling again, sorry about that.
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0650hrs: Got the night pouch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning. Jaut one long, unpainful, ‘thought it would never end’ flow of wet mud.
Got the kettle on, then the computer and Carer Dilan arrived. As he sorted the medications, he asked me if we had any more Bosoprolol to hand. I went into the kitchenette to check on the Carer’s Medicine Drawer. Spotted a packet of Beta-Blockers, noticing that it had been opened. As I took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
I was trying to stop Dilan from worrying about the shortage, not that he seemed in the slightest bit bothered. He gave me the morning medications… now, in the past, I have been known not to take them. Ejaz & Mirzra always make sure I have, and have seen me do it.
After Dilan had gone, I saw them in the pot, tipped them out onto the memory pad, and took them. I know I get confused, but something told me there were not as many tablets as usual. That would be toying with me. I do get confused at times, usually after one of my rare, ‘With-it-Moments’. Which I had when noticing the tablet shortage.

I got WordPress opened, ready to start the blog, and Matron (I think) came in, always glad to see her. A few general questions, then she carried out a Memory Test. Read out a name & address. Matron asked me what time it was, and I looked at the computer clock without thinking and told her. A broad smile, followed by a mild ticking of later, she continued. Hahaha!
I can’t remember everything, but counting the months backwards, no, the alphabet, was beyond me. I feel a little ashamed. Or was it numbers backwards? I forget now. And my handwriting in the notes was abysmal; I think I was writing too fast to keep up with the prompts.
Another one I failed on was what month it is, without any doubt, and with complete confidence, I said February. To find out later, when Matron pointed out that I was wrong and had scored highly on the memory test. Which I thought was a good thing, and a grin spread across my face, a smug look about to erupt. But it was the opposite, and not a very good score. I’ll be referred elsewhere for further tests.
Carer Dilan arrived on his second call, and this reminded me about the missing medications, Beta-Blockers. Matron spoke with Dilan about sorting and finding out if they are coming and when. I’ve heard nothing yet.
Several lines of indecipherable rubbish on the page here. Eight of them. Not the foggiest idea, but they were in the Matron’s visiting timeline.
Matron mentioned that I had a little brain injury. I think she said it was a TBI.

But I’m not certain now. I’m sure it was a TBI. I thought the surgeon said they had found water on my brain, NPI, was it CSF? Then again, come to think of it now, CSF, TBI? I could be wrong. I have been known to get things confused lately.
Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

Jenny 🌸💜 appeared with her ingenious collapsible chair and handed me some Hills Shortie biscuits she had bought for me. She was aware that this brand of shortcake bickies was soft enough not to bother . A sweetheart she is. She’s helped get me noticed by calling Age UK and getting the ball rolling on assessing and determining whether I’m eligible for extra help. She advises me with logical, coherent tips and dos and don’ts. 🎀 Understands exactly how my disabilities affect me. And is the only person to do so, about the seizures. She also offered help when the Carers cannot find time to do the laundry. Bless her Cotton Socks! X
Mind you, Jenny used to work in a hospital.

Then, Jake from the Nottingham City Council, erm.. er… I’ll look it up on the mobile… Got it!
The Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services. He went through both of my large boxes of files and saved paperwork. It took him ages; all were out of date, of course. It’s not up to date cause the Carer’s stopped storing them for me, not enough time to do them, but I hadn’t realised. He spent ages with me, trying to find proof of various pensions and banking details. He had to call Royal Insurance, which gave him a number for Cooperative Insurance, which the Royal had taken over. So, he rang them, all long-winded and proof of everything needed before progressing. Somehow, he eventually managed to get the details from the Cooperative Insurance. Then rang Royal Insurance back with any details he’d gathered from the Cooperative Insurance. Then needed further proof from my bank, and had to ring them again. Apparently, they are going to send me a written statement by post, and I’m to call Jake at the Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services, send him a photo or copy, and then he can progress with assessing my validation to get help. Haven’t I already told you all this? I hope not.

The day had now gone, and night was falling. My eyes were fading, and my frustrations were raging.

Ejaz and the training Carer arrived, and I can’t recall if anything worth mentioning happened. I was baffled by all that was going on; I think my brain gave up on me. I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.

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As I fell asleep at the computer, I dreamt of the skies turning to stone. Ice was forming all over the planet, and as the globe began to crack, I woke with a start and hurt my back. The Inner-Voice Spoke to me, in a smarmy, crude manner, saying: “You think yesterday and today were crap? – Hehe, just you wait until tomorrow!”
I didn’t cry. But I thought about it!
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Fair Thee All Well!
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 4th March 2026

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Best wishes and welcome to the new day, to you all!
Unless, of course, you are reading this rubbish in the afternoon, evening or at night. Or did not get around to it yet for a few days.
Any road, Welcome!

I bounded out of the bed, jumped over the exercise machine, got down and did 150 press-ups and 100 toe-touches, as the maiden begged me to get back into the bed for more carnal desires satisfactionings…
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Oh, all right then. 1620hrs: I woke up groggily and fumbled to take off the night Catheter bag. Then fell asleep again. A distinctly weird dream manifested itself to me. I was flying Superman style in outer space, trying to find a planet to land on. They had all gone! As I approached where Earth used to be, a cloud neared me, and I slowed down as it passed me to talk to it. I asked, “Where did you come from?” and the cloud turned into an imitation of Arthur Scargil. That’s all I can recall. I heard no reply or answer.
Just thought I’d throw this into the mix, in hopes of getting a humorous comment from someone with their thoughts about it. If I could have thought of a humorous follow-on, I would have, but I couldn’t.

I woke, thinking of the dream, passed wind, and it’s a good job I’d taken off the night bag, because as fast as I could, I hastened, knocking over the Hoover en route, to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne. Before I’d settled on the pue, the flow began. Lucky yet again. Was this going to be a better day?
I mouthed a little prayer.

Had a clean up, and headed into the kitchenette to put the kettle on.
Cor blimey, it was foggy?
I hobbled into the front room to go on the balcony to take a shot. But changed my mind, (I’m very good at changing my mind).
Then into the junk room to take the third photographicalisation.
All it showed was fog.
Well, it would, as it was foggy out there this morning. Cold with it.

Ejaz arrived and set to caring for me again. Socks off, gel and ointment on my toes and ankles, and fresh socks put on. Body check, shoulders, and my back were Phorpain-gelled. Medications issued.

Jenny called and will not be able to come today to call Jake about the pension instructions. She will call later if her visitors arrive.

Warmer now, so I went onto the balcony to take some pictures as the fog started to fade, and the odd glimpse of sunshine was breaking through occasionally. The mudslide seemed large, with no rain having fallen. Not so busy today, I regretted saying that later on.
I went to answer the phone, well, the mobile, I knew it would not be Jenny, but I just missed the call, they stopped as I opened the mobile.
‘Failed Connection’ came on the screen. I’ve had at least a dozen of these so far this week. Took another shot of the end of the far car park when I got back to the balcony, with the sun bursting through the clouds.

Finally, at long last, I got the computer going, oh, Dearie me! It got stuck when booting up. My heart sank.
My language stank!

Turned it off, gave it a minute and tried again,

No tears, I expected it after the recent unknown problems with it. I’ll ring Jenny later and ask for Asif’s number. At this moment, I was down in the depths of frustration and anger, as
From a high to the lowest in an instant.

Ejaz came again. Set up the other shaver for me and showed me how to use it, as he left to take the laundry down, I tried the computer again. And…
It came on! So too did…

We started sorting out the first cupboard. Two large carrier bags were filled with fodder that was out of date, or that I could no longer eat, now that the attentions of that little beauty are back bothering me. Ejaz went down to move the washing into the dryer.
Jenny called; she will be up later.

Ejaz cleaned the Hoover and asked me to get some filters for it, to try on Amazon. So, I did.

Jenny came up and phoned NCC’s Jake. Told me he would call in yesterday… whoops, tomorrow, to see me. She is so kind to me. 🤎

Wow, the sun came out for a last blast. The fog had cleared, and mist came down later.
Wonder if the sunset woi;; get through tonight? A
hit me. It could only have been for a minute, if that, but it took ages to recover. I had a few more short ones later and was in bed. I recovered each time more quickly than this one.

Another go at the blog, it was a slog. I’d been that busy. Ejaz returned with another new colleague.

I went to get a bottle of spring water and saw the laundry bag had not been emptied. Sleeves inside out. socks twisted together, they took a lot of sorting out, and with it being late, and my cataracted eyes as usual got worse the more tired I got. I left it because I couldn’t see which socks were which to pair them up. I’ll ask the Carer on the last call to sort them. They used to do that, but have stopped recently with all the other jobs they have on, not their fault.
Hanging them up in the hallway brought on Dizzy Dennis. I was close to a tumble a couple of times. (Sympathy seeking? Hehe!)

I went to see what fodder was available for my evening feast. I also feasted on the lovely view of the sun fighting its way through as it went from view.

Made my vegetarian meal with care and attention. Boy, I was looking forward to eating this one with baconless bacon, garden peas, seaweed, mushrooms and a vegan lemon dessert.
All, apart from the imitation bacon, tasted great. How can I describe the taste of this one?
Maybe skunk leathery soaked newspaper, hardened to a tooth-destroying level of flavourless concrete.
Yes, that sounds about right.

Lots of work done. Shame about the laundry return.
But, I did learn not to buy imitation bacon again… although at a cost of great pain from
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TTFNski Each
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Inchie: Tuesday 3rd March 2026

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I first stirred at around 0300hrs and swiftly nodded off again when I saw the time. 0740hrs, I woke up with a bit of a jerky neck and could feel the pain from . So, felt I’d had a nocturnal seizure, and seconds later the upflux of an acidic flavour confirmed my suspicions. So I gave it a few minutes before attempting to scrabble out of the bed, to recover sufficiently. When I did get myself out of the warm, comfy bed and stood up with the stick nearby, I did the gentle balance exercises with no bother at all.
I felt uncomfortable, with achy knees, but none of the other ailments seemed interested in giving me the usual painful morning greetings.
Give them time, Hehehe!

As I was collecting the bins to sort into one bag, boy, did I get annoyed with myself. I hastened to get the toothache spray from the computer desk, to find it empty. No worries, I knew I had two more sprays in the medical drawer. I got them out and opened the first one, to find that it was empty as well! I’d only just opened the box as well. A little miffed, especially at the price they cost me. The second one, and now only one left, worked okay. But now, I do not have the money in mt account to buy anything until my pension goes into the account. So I did a silent prayer asking her to be kind until next Monday, so this spray should last me until then. I used a fair bit of it as several teeth were playing up at the same time, which is unusual. Of course, with so few scattered about, it takes time to find the offenders, given the many gaps in my mouth where the molars used to be.
I got the bin bags into one large one, then nipped to the wet room Porcelain Throne. Aha, Constipation Konrad was losing his dominance at last. No bleeding either. I considered using the new razor, but in the end, didn’t have a shave. I’ll wait until Ejaz can find time and make sure I don’t break the razor of cut myself. He knows the quirks of this model and ordered it for me last week.
I got the kettle on around 0730hrs and took three photographs of the morning view on offer from the kitchenette window.
of to the computer to get it started t osee of ot wpuld work today, taking the mug of Co-op 99 tea with me. But, no pictures were on the SD card again? I checked whether they had gone to the camera’s internal memory. Nope! So, back into the kitchen to try again. Half expecting that the camera had joined the mobile phone, computer and the wind-up torch, all of which had given up the ghost in the last 48-hours. But, no, I took three more snaps of the amazing-looking mini-clouds and made sure they were on the viewer screen after each take. Back to the computer to load them into CorelDraw.
The last picture was taken higher up. I don’t know the name of these types of cloud formations, but the sky looked great.
I uploaded them, and the next thing I remembered was the acidic taste rising from the innards into the nose and throat. I think this seizure could only have lasted for a minute or so, because the computer had not blanked out like it does when unused for a few minutes. Recovery was practically not needed at all, but I still remained in the chair for a few minutes more in case my balance had been affected. Then I got up for a hobble about, without much bother at all. Back in the seat, and got a belated dizzy spell. I really had the feeling that I was going to fall out of the chair. What’s going on here?
Then noticed the untouched mug of tea near the clock-calender was stone cold, and showing 08:00hrs.
This arithmophobia is getting to me.

The intercom rang, and a JS delivery arrived. And I was dead certain that I’d ordered this for next Tuesday, positive, sure, confident I had. It seems I hadn’t. Still, I got some daffodils for Jenny.
And the refrigerator was crammed with things I’d already got it, and next week’s, which turned out to be today’s repetitive items. (I think). I still can’t believe I’d done it again…
What a plonka! They told me in the hospital that I would be getting help with my stupid ordering and remembering problems. That was last November. I anticipate help will arrive any moment now.
Shelled Kenyan garden peas, & shredded Leicester
cheese, along with yoghourts, grapefruit juice and a Sweet & sour chicken ready meal.
I think I’ll have that tonight.

Jenny rang me. She can’t get down in time to do the NCC text queries to ring them. Good as gold, she came in while Ejaz was here and I was in the wetroom trying the new shaver, which will need more concentrated intructionalisastioning from Ejaz.
Jenny & Ejaz were in a deep discussion when I got into the room. I put the hearing aids on, but still could not hear what they were saying. Hehe!
Here is what I think took place. After problems trying access things on my SweetLink mobile. Then, when I get texts, I can click the link? Jenny is going to give me her old iPhone to replace the current old-folks mobile that has never worked right, since I was recommended to purchase one. Jenny is coming to help tomorrow, with the issues and arranged to come while Ejaz is here. Bless her Cotton Socks. A few other things were discussed and arranged, but I can’t reclaim the details at all now, the next morning.

I was recovering from a seizure, sat at the computer, and musing over how bad the NHS is getting. With a smidgeon of self-pity in attendance, about all the failed promises of help with finances, memory, arithmophobia, seizures, cataract, and neurology assessment… Etc. I mused over what my only Political Hero, Nye Bevan, had done and said in creating the NHS in 1948.
Then, what Herr Starmer said about his destruction of the NHS, England in 2026…
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The meal smelled wonderful; I spent a long time prepping and cooking this one. Confident of creating a feast of sweet & sour chicken, Oh, yes…
BUT, NO!

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TTFN – All the Best
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Inchie, Mon 2nd Mar 26: Mr Fooey.

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Sister Jane & hubby Pete, many, many years ago.
With my favourite one of their clowder of cats.
But I’d like to start with Tabitha.
Seen here checking over my retirement pension details in the kitchen. Hehe! The runt of the litter, very small, delicate, beautiful, friendly, and curious, so curious.
The first to pass away in the new home they had moved into. I always remember Tabitha. 💟
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Here is Inchie, with Mr Foooey, Foooey to his fans. The poor thing was nearly blind, deaf and arthritic.
But I never saw him get nasty, no matter what was going on around him. I recall on one of my visits, to show off my new Diahatsu 4-track car… as I left, as I opened the car door, there was Mr Fooey on the passanger seat purring away. How he got in was initially a mystery. On the way home, I realised the roof window was open. He was younger then.
Such a gentle animal in every way. I still miss him as much as my Cyril and Lady.
It was great visiting Jane. They had Big Albert, Dainty Tabitha, Poorly Mr Fooey, Arthur, and Cryrille.
But it’s Mr Fooey’s memory day today.
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MR FOOEY

🤎
Sister Jane, seen here, clipping Fooeys ever-growing tufts. He rather enjoyed this.
End of my visit, handing Mr Fooey back to Jane.
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So long ago, but I reckon it must have been a
day!

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TTFN
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Inchie: Sunday 1st March 2026

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Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Errors, Dark, Dank Depression Darius, Tumbles, Frustrationes, Mistakes, Embarrassments, Humiliations, Explosion, etc.
Each of the daily emotionally challenging visitors above seems to be an embedded, permanent aspect of Inchie’s daily life. (Well, I say life, life, that may be an extended pretence for his existence & struggles as he continues to survive, wondering what for & why.) Inchie can’t recollect the word he was going to use at this precise moment. Today’s main offenders were:
Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, and
Depression Darius. Much of the day’s events will be missing or brief due to the inordinately long time it took to implement countermeasures after the explosion. I used the word explosion here to catch your attention. Hehe!
Not to mention the pain caused to Bad-Back-Brenda, Fractured Knee Frank, and a new head injury incurred when sorting out the after-effects of the calamity.
Hope that got you wanting to know more with bated breath? The clean-up operation took me over three hours! With another hour & a half worth of help from the Carer on three of his calls. The entire flat has a sweet, pungent whiff floating about this morning, seventeen hours after the incident was cleaned up.
The volatile liquid covered the whole kitchen floor… more later, in between the usual boring stuff I pen.
Have I whetted your appetite for the story?
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A lousy night’s sleep, broken waking, worrying, nodding off, waking, worrying, farting, nodding off, waking, belching, Shaking Shoulder Shirley belting away, nodded off, woken up this time by Twitching Neck Ted, fell asleep…. Enough of that.

Ejaz arrived, medications given, a full-body check, Phorpain gelled, toes and ankles creamed and medicated. Fresh socks put back on.

Care Mizra called. Pouch checked & emptied. Painkillers and Peptac given. I mentioned the NCC email needing clarification at a council link. He got it up and led me through filling it in. Which was great. Had he not been helping, there were times, if I’d tried to do it on my own, I’d have made errors. Saved the day, got it done. Thanks, Mizra!

Although I didn’t realise it at the time, had I done so, hours and hours of painful, Accifauxpa-inducing cleaning up the mess could have been avoided.
Which verifies my rotten luck, I’m always getting up to investigate noises; was it the tao overflowing, the water alarm, had something fallen over, etc. and always (but not this time, Oh, no! I could spit) check!

NOW, THE HAPPENINGS BEGIN!
As Mizra departed, I thought I heard a noise, similar to when someone doesn’t fully shut the door, and as they opened the foyer door to the lift area, the flat door slammed shut in the draft. It was just like that sound, so I didn’t even give it much thought. I was getting back into doing the Ode for the blog.
A mistake that cost me so much angst, pain, and took me hours to clean up… As I stood up, about an hour later, to make a brew, I could smell something but not identify it. To the kitchenette door and stopped so suddenly, I dropped the walking stick. All I could see in the kitchen was what I thought was water covering 80% of the floor! A panic came… I started shuddering and shaking, but knew that I needed to turn off the tap, which meant walking into the deep water. So I did. Walking stickless in my haste. One step into the kitchen, I saw that the tap was not running. I looked up at the ceiling for signs of incoming water, but there were none. Then the smell hit me, and I felt giddy. I realised then that it was bleach. I looked at where I’d left the 5-litre container of thick bleach, seeing it on the floor, burst open. I thought casually as I recalled then, ‘Well, that’s me in the shit – Again!’
Damned good job that I had so many rolls of kitchen towels at hand. I threw them into the water as best I could to help soak up the bleach. Then foolishly stepped forward to get the paper to go all the way into the kitchen, and all but slipped over on the thick bleach. I used about five kitchen rolls’ worth of paper and intended to give it a few minutes, then see if it was safe to add more paper. Then realised that my Kagoule and dressing gown had made contact with the bleach! They were rotting away as I looked at them. I strangely thought this could make a horror movie that people would believe, Hehe!
BUT IT GOT WORSE!
I withdrew from the battleground into the wet room, tore off my dressing gown and Khagoule, and placed them in plastic bags for the rubbish chute.
Had a rinse, and got another dressing gown on, as I did, there must have been some bleach dripped onto the floor, which my foot found and Whoopsiedangleplop, down I went, oddly enough, catching and activating my alarm wristlet as I crumpled onto the shower chair. Struggling up onto my feet again, I heard the NCC monitor controller speaking. Went to the room and said I just had a tumble setting the alarm off at the same time. But, no. I explained about the bleach, and she asked ARE YOU INJURED – No! “We can do nothing about your water. Wait until a Carer comes. When is one due?” About 2-hours. If it is a leak, call our maintenance or repairs.
Thank you, kindly, [Tut], I rang off.
Back to the kitchen and spread some more paper towels to help soak up some of the bleach, left it for a few minutes, then went back to gather what I could into waste bags.
Have another go with fresh towelling, and then I began the slow, painful job of mopping and rinsing out the mop often. This involved rinsing the mop in the sink with cold water, then using the wetroom tap to part-fill the bucket for another pass over the floor. Naturally, the bucket needed to be rinsed after each use. Using a small jug to get the water from the sink to the bucket. The smell got to me again, and I kept feeling a bit giddy. I did this six times in all. I had opened the windows. This snap on the right was how it looked on the fifth attempt. I was in a lot of pain by then. Back, shoulder and a new bruise on my head. As I collected the last of what I could, I had to leave the areas between the cupboards, the stove, and the fridge; it was just too painful to get down that far. I filled three more big bags with the bleached, covered towels, bringing the current total of eight bags taken to the refuse chute. I pressed on with mopping the kitchen, but that bleach wouldn’t come out at all, without a fight.

On the bright side, it cleaned up my fingernails nicely. Even if it did ruin my new dressing gown, slippers and Khagoule, all waste-shutting with a few words RIP style proffered as I sent them 12 stories down in the chute, to the big bins below.
I only bought you both a month ago,
It’s so sad to see you have to go,
Hope it doesn’t hurt you, though,
When you land twelve floors below!

Carer Ejaz finally arrived, and I told him of how my blog-writing time had been further deprived. Showed him these photos and told him of what I’d been through, the time lost, the pain, and the frustration. Yet, amazingly, nae astoundingly, nae, mind-bogglingly, a miracle… had not dawned or visited me, yet! Yes, I was angry, a smidgeon sorry for myself, maybe. There was certainly an inkling of self-sympathy lurking in my mind.
But when the air had cleared, the blood had bled, the pains subsided, and Ejaz stuck into helping, and the kitchen was beginning to look clearer and safer, I had a short, curt visit from,

When I sat down after Ejaz had departed, I anticipated falling into the wonderfully welcoming arms of Sweet Morpheus. But, No! Fractured Knee Frank, Back-Ache Brenda, & Shuddering -Shoulder Shirley, kicked off at the same time. It was like someone turning a pain switch on, instant agony. I thought it was bad enough while doing the bending, but now it is worse than ever, as Victor Meldrew’s catch phrase went. I Do Not Believe It! When Ejaz returned for his last call, he had planned to tidy the kitchen, but didn’t. Why?
He recognised the state I was in purely pain-wise.
Ejaz took a snap of the little bruise on my head for his records at ICC. Then he made some instant mash, cheese with ketchup and sausage for my meal. Not wanting me to get up from 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. He even suggested I don’t move into the bed, rather stay where I am, the effort of climbing into bed he feared would set off the other ailments.
Also snapped shots of the view from the kitchen window for me, since he knows I like to take them for the blog. The Carers have been a treasure for me today. And how, why, did Deep Dark Depression Darius stay away? He did get one fleeting visit in, but was it worth his efforts? I think not. But I pray tomorrow that he keeps away.
Perhaps I was so busy, and in so much pain, he didn’t feel the need to get at me as much? Nae!

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Inchie: Saturday 28th February 2026

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Today was poddling along without too much bother or hassle. Until I suddenly became tireded and weary to such a degree, I closed the computer and got down to have a kip on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. And stayed there for the rest of the afternoon into the night. Then the morning. But… not nice, but could I get and stay asleep? No! Apart from the Carers, bless them, waking me up, I must have stirred dozens of times. But couldn’t get up. What a state!
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I was woken up by Carer arriving. Surely he could see the state I was in? But insisted on asking me about the medications. When he handed them to me, the pot seemed a little bare.
But that is ementia for you, or me, or both of us. Hehe! No doubt it was correct & right, but due to my previously called Cognitive impairment, Diabetic Dementia, Vascular dementia, and now newly named Pre-Morbid Icogniscence Impairment, I tend to get things mixed up and wrong, misread, misunderstood, or confused. Especially in the state I was in this morning, well, most mornings.
I spent what seemed like frequent bouts of problem viewing in my mind. British Gas, Carers’ hours, the computer, Virgin Media, EE mobile bills, food ordering, Arithmaphobia & seizure recovery problems, and unsolved queries. An out-of-it-day.

Morning photos
The end car park mudslide!

Rainy day.

Much-loved by WordPress readers and bloggers is getting-on-a-bit (Doug’s) Andy. Full of character. He’s had a lot of medical treatments, some that scared us, but the lad came through again. Bless Him!

Morning brew.

One cloud in this photo looks almost ghostly to me. Is it an alien cloud containing the next universe’s seek & destroy vessels? Hehehe!

Ayup, the sunshines out!

Sun on its way now…
A closer shot…

Out a bit…

A final twinkle, as she does fade

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Looking suspiciously young and thin in this snap of his head? Wonder when it was taken? Ah, 2002!

TTFN