Nicodemus’ Neurotransmitters failing

Inchy Today: Thursday 6th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cocked things up again.

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed. 


Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!
I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me! 
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 5th March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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

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

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

This morning’s shot.

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

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

Matron Jackie might be calling.

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

The catheter nurse is due, I think.

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CHEERS!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 4th March 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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The world is infected with discord,
Compassion now issued with a whipcord,
Our world remains technicoloured,
Changes are now turbocharged,
With rivers that will turn into a ford,
Yet warmongering they can still afford?
Food prices rising and surcharged,
Existing with a lower living standard,
Our beloved NHS is now substandard,
For many, meals are no foursquared…
Heating or eating? Oligarchs overcharged.
Using foodbanks and the scrapyard,
The body and mind become knurled,
Shoplifting, violence; police Kevlared,
HMG is becoming a voters hazard!
You’ll not hear of them being hungered!
Like Starmer, they’ll be well backhanded,
For morality, they remain uncared…
I assume their expenses are undeclared,
HMG’s actions have remained unendeared,
Their next tax increase is as yet undeclared,
They can’t say their actions are unflawed,
Voted for Labour, not the Tory United,
I told them this is most unrecommended,
But my advice went well unheeded,
I think that Keir is well bartended,
 He money-maunded, or is it money-laundered?
I spat out many a curse & swearword,
My hatred for him grew; I was degraded,
On his promises, he backslided,
As pensioners & farmers he defrauded,
Businesses ensured he was backhanded,
Selectively blindfolded, he’s coldblooded
The NHS has actually been defunded,
Labourites feel they’ve been broadsided,
If we knew he was a liar, we’d have forfended,
AS a diplomat, it seems he’s masqueraded,,
A Labour leader? He’s been misbranded,,
 In lies & deceit, he’s obviously marinaded,
Humanity, caring, he’s constantly avoided
Amidst his fellow MPs disaccord…
Even they are getting bejaded!
The Labour Party could be abjured…
All politicians seem the be adfected,
The voters are  & aggravated…
Maybe they could be acclimated?
Exchanging viewpoints is recommended,
Finding an opposition that could be respected?
Benevolent, facilitative, that can be cherished,
But can any of them ever be trusted?
Like Nye Bevin, who I personally adulated,
Life’s bad now, and the UK isn’t yet invaded,
This ode, consider it as unsubstantiated,
But Starmer looks terribly unbothered!
My hatred of Keir goes unpunctuated!
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Tonight’s nosh.
Tonight’s glorious sunset
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I’m sorry there is little else.
I had a backwards tumble in the morning.
I’d just finished the ablutions and medicationings and was getting the fresh PPs (Protection pants) on.
As I struggled to get my left leg high enough, the cartilage gave way, and I grabbed for the sink and somehow missed it, or maybe my hand slipped off. (Cartilage Chloe).
I did a lumbrumose pirouette, twisted and went down backwards, clouting the back of my head on the sink and the trolley. Getting back up was a heck of a job.
I got up and tried to get up using him and the WC. No way!
So I crawled, taking care not to damage the catheter on all fours, to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. It took me ages to do it, but finally, with gritted teeth and much pain, I clambered up enough to get in the chair. I ointmentated the Cartilage again from the tube on the just reachable carers table and took a Codeine. I stayed where I was for a short while. Only the catheter and knees from the crawling were bothering me at that stage. Things didn’t feel too bad, and I returned to the wet room. I had a quick rinse to clear the ointment, and I spotted some blood while drying off with the white towel. Mmm! No bleeding could be found from the knees, lips , leg ulcers or my nose. Ah, well, still unconcerned, I tried again to get the PPs on. This time, it was much more painful, with the knee getting twisted and clouted on my way down to the floor.
But, I got them on! .

I’d sorted the waste bags and nocturnal catheter pouch, so I got on the computer. The second it started up, the pain from the back of my head started. It sort of came on in waves, each time growing slowly in intensity. Repeating every couple of minutes. I admit to being worried about this. I knew I’d hit the head, leg, and bum in the tumble. 
When I joined in, I was in a right state. And it stayed (the head) all day into the night, although I sensed it was painfully slowly getting less hurtful as night approached. A carer took a photo of the offending back of my head on his mobile. I’ll ask a Carer to take a snap of the head with my camera tomorrow.

I think a lot happened, including telephone calls and emails,  that I’ll need help with. But I don’t think I actioned anything. Nothing was on the notepad anyway. Although the pains were still there, I’d wait until morning to call anyone. It might have cleared up by then.
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TTFNski, each!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

/ Inchie / 19 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

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

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

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

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

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

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DDDD DAWNED
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Inchys Ode: Saturday 1st March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Ode Old– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Duncan paid fewer visits today,
But perhaps I shouldn’t say…
It’s not as if he went away,
What will happen on Saturday?
Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory,
If it comes, it’s always only briefly,
Though it always returns, worryingly,
But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly,
I got that from my thesaurus dictionary,
My life bears moments of uncertainty…
Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety,
No claims to rightness or piety,
Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy,
I often act subconsciously, mistakenly,
Or over-humbly, sycophantishly,
At times, I’m away with the sidhe,
If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns,
With my own brain, I can lock horns,
Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon,
Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection,
Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration?
He can bring on a cruel self-beration,
Sometimes, a sort of zombification,
A low, deeper than being woebegone,
While accepting my own antiquation…
With its struggle amany and vulneration,
Dementia Doreen is another vaurien,
Incogniscent Iris, seisures often…
DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see,
Alternates with DDDD visit frequently,
One extreme or the other, persistently,
Never equidistantly or contentedly,
I can struggle to find reality, facticity,
Thoughts, movements show contumacy…
My neurotransmitters are dying on me, 
Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly?
A chance of it being right? They go astray!
High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly,
DDDDD? Then things can get tricky…
Throw in the odd interrupting seizure…
What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater,
I often turn into self-loathing babbler,
When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter,
Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger,
Or has the temerity to get smaller,
Or new farces & snags I discover,
While I’m under Horis’s protective cover!
Ménière’s, seizures… but I always recover,
In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter,
The nurse arrived to change my catheter,
Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay,
I wouldn’t go back in straightaway,
We had a bit of a shilly-shally…
We got it in, although it was bloody,
Then she checked the state of my rear alley,
She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation,
returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
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HOWZAT!
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A bad day.
Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.

Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs.
The pouch was taken off and emptied.
Waste bags sorted and ready.
Made up some pots to use for the laundry.

Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.

Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.

Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!

I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.

The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX

I took this snap as she departed.

Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.

By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky!
To the right.
To the left.
Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.

Carer Chris returned. Medications given.

I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Good Run Continuing! –
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– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
:::::
Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
:::::
Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
:::::
Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
:::::
People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
:::::
Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
:::::
Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
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FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
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I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some  shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.  
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

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: Tuesday 25th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Doing the right thing can leave you unrewarded,
Helping, sometimes, often, goes unrecorded,
But does it stop you from acting antideluvially?
To you, you’re just acting humanly,
Not wanting to be praised or highly regarded,
Without wishes to be refunded,
That would offend your gigmanity,
Like me, to defend your anonymity
Lest your generousness is noticed by Starmer,
He may sense he can get a backhander!
Especially if you’re a farmer or pensioner!
Your pension may get cut or rescinded,
You may get financially wounded,
By HMG’s mobsters and felonry…
Starmer so disgusts me!
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– – Deliberate spelling mistake – –
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A busy enough day without my forgetting that the water was being turned off for a few hours while the maintenance team was working on a repair or adjustment for a few hours.
Which meant more confusion for my addled-seizure-prone brain. Someone was here while I had a non-epileptic seizure again. Getting embarrassed at these incidents.
A flash blog today.
If possible, I must complete the much-belated ablutions, and time is getting late and short. First, I have to see if the water is back on.
Ah, well, I’ll do what I can from the notes and photos taken.
Tomorrow is going to be busy as well. Thursday could be the humdinger if the doctor decides I need to go in for help and assistance. What am I saying? Haha!
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You may ask why my urine is in the day bag jug?
Or, of course, you may not… I’ll tell yer. Last night, I fell asleep before putting the night bag on. The day bag was nearly bursting when I woke up at 03:30 hrs. It pulled as I stood up, not realising I had not put on the three times more oversized night bag, and… well… 
ARGH!
I naturally have a pain-resistance level far above others. Being the young, fit, athletic type of person that I am, I merely laughed off the entire incident.  I smiled as I wiped away the blood running out from down my leg and foot and sang a song to myself as I cleaned up the carpet.  

I visited the wet room and got settled on the Porcelain Throne.
A Fantastic Session!
For the first time in weeks, neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad controlled; the extremes did not rule the roost! Trotsky had an advantage, though, but not too much mess. And coming out to the kitchen, I was Anne Gyna pains-free!

I got Kodak Tim 2 and took a couple of photographs of the early morning view on offer. The top one is to the right, left one to the left. Maybe it was not my best effort, but that didn’t matter then. I decided to get the kettle on to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and then get on with updating yesterday’s blog; it was nice and early yet, so I assumed catching up and posting the blog should be easier than usual, and I could get on with this blog sooner than normal. Well, getting the update completed went pretty smoothly. It took a few hours. I posted it and decided to get the ablutions and medications done…
Then I remembered the situation of no water on tap.
I’ll have to do it this afternoon or night. There is no way I will boil water and carry it to the wet room to enable me to get a shave. The last time I had to do that, it resulted in some injuries and a right mess to clean up.
So, I wet some clothes in the sink from the kettle with Dettol and dabbed myself a bit with it. Hahaha!

I cleaned the kitchen window in cold water and warmed it with water from the kettle and spirit vinegar.

Carer Chloe arrived for the first call. Medicines were issued, and diabetic socks were put on. While doing this, I realised the catheter day bag was getting filled, so I emptied it into the jug. While talking to Chloe, as she stood up to check the taps, she pointed out that the day bag was leaking! And I thought things were getting better! What a fool!
I had not shut the release valve. Now, I had to clean the freshly put-on socks and the carpet again, which cost me a lot of time.

The landline chirruped. The DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse advised me she would come in the morning between 10 and 1100 hrs to take the blood. I’m not sure I’ll have much available after Little Inchy’s tube-tugging session earlier. Hehe! I put it on the Google Calendar to be safe.

Carer Chloe arrived to do the domestics, which she couldn’t do without water. She helped check some Emails for me and did the hoovering.

I was not in good condition as it was, but the seizure kicked off again, and my concentration was terrible.

The Iceland Delivery Arrived
There seemed to be a lot of bags. Then I realised I’d bought many Cheeze-It wafers, like… Nine Bags! Guilt!
They do taste delicious, though!
Does the fridge still have room in it?
I topped up the Carers & Nurses treat boxes.
I love the mini Toffee Crisp bars. Just enough for me.

Carer Sam came. We had a little natter.

I, at last, made a start on this blog.
Then I realised I’d still have the templates for March to do!
So be it. Last month, I completed them in less than three hours. I’ll aim to complete them within the same time. Here I go, with a start time of 17:00 hrs.

I’ve Done Them!
By 1855hrs! Honestly!

Varer Chris arrived while I was on the templates.
Medications given.

Now, my plan is to get something to eat!
Nordic Bacon (lots of it), roasted onions, cheese cracker biscuits and cheezies, cheese-topped rolls with Marmite.
I ate about half of it. Just made too much of it. Tsk!

Carer Chris called, returning the laundry bag. We had a little laugh & natter as he took the socks off for me.

Washed the pots and got down 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. To watch some TV documentaries. Zzzz!

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Catch you later, Pip-Pip
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