Incredibility Inchy: Tuesday 23rd July 2024

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This Tuesday, I spent an awful lot of time with one-moment brainwaves like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, interspersed with times of them battling away at each other and having disagreements. Trying to identify what or which was the best option, choice, or course of action that needed responding to in favour of one or the other seemed to conjure up an unrecognised third-party decision-maker option. This made any conclusions or direction-making all but impossible. I just thought I’d mention it.
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My carer said the urine colour was a five or 6 on the NHS scale card.
Kara later put a new sleeve onto the catheter bag for me.
I decided to treat myself to an early-awakening mug of the superb Thompson’s Punjana tea. (One more is allowed today, Tsk!)
I got Kodak Tim and took these three photographs on the right of the morning view from the kitchenette window.
They had, of course, the usual scattered blotches on each one.

Then off to the wet room.
ruled the Porcelain Throne visit again. I swear the evacuation monster torpedo, freed at great effort and pain, had a worry-making green tinge embedded. After washing, no shave, I realised that I had none of the underarm and man-breast red blotch ointment. I asked Kara later, she is going to order them later for me. 👍
While urging the evacuation to start, I photographed areas that needed my attention for cleaning duties. There were plenty to choose from. The evacuation kick-off resisted all my efforts to get it to move. I even had time to have a go at the crossword.

I got on the computer to start updating the blog.
When Carer Richard arrived, he decided not to put on the diabetic socks because the leg and ankle both looked a lot better. I agreed. He had issued the medication, and off home he went, a tired-looking carer. 
As I returned to the computer, the intercom sounded,  reminding me that the Asda order was due today. I’d forgotten all about it coming.  Yes, me, forgetting. Haha!
The deliveryman kindly put the food into carriers and boxes for me. Getting them into the kitchen was more effort-taking and produced some strong, heavy breathing for me, but I soon set about sorting out the foods after a minute’s rest. I made a cock-up with ordering the large pie, I didn’t realise it was frozen, and there was not room in the freezer to store it. I double-wrapped it and got it into the big waste bag. Putting the things away in the fridge, even I was surprised at how many items I found that were out of date. So many, that a few dates that I could not read even with the magnifying glass, I added them all to the big waste bag. It freed up a little room, but the freezer took the frozen potatoes, not the slightest chance of making any room for the pie. Tsk! For the red spring onions, I have one for Vegan Carer Kara to try. One for me to try. I liked them! The Dutch tomatoes were tasty, too!
I topped up the Carer’s & Nurse’s liquid treats shelves.

Several of then got a grip of me. Whether these were ‘s, or maybe , I don’t know. In fact, the next four hours or so are blanks. Other than I know that called, that’s all of this period I remember. I know she checked the catheter and phoned someone or made two medical-related calls, and I remembered to give her some thanks treats and the red onions. Other scattered bits are undecipherable.

I know I made a meal and photographed it. (In the morning, I  realised I’d left the SD card in the camera!) I’m certain I got my head down early. In the morning, I recalled a bit of the dream. That was for the second day on the trot, I think. It was a truly weird one from days gone by. I’ll dwell on that further in Wednesday’s blog.

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All The Best of Luck!

 

Incontinent Inchy: Monday 22nd July 2024

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Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic!
The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!

I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut.
I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!

I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me.
As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what?  I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.

Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via  .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. 
I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out.
! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.

Between , supported by   it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.

Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this.  Frustration Frank visited.

Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.

Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!

If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven.
I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.

But the odds are it’ll be me!

Gorgeous clouds.

Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning.  I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a  or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well! 

I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.

Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it.
Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
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Cheers!

Inchy Today: Friday 19th July 2024: Injuries, Failures & Despair… Just another day!

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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and f
ault-filled Friday. 

Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today.
However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg)
①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha!
② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem!
I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…

According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.

Off to the wet room Throne.

Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.

Rubbish sorted.

At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer. 

Carer Maryham arrived. 
She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open.
Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.

After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in. 

An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them.
Humph!
I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions.
Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha!
I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table.
And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks.
Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink!
I’ll not get them again!

I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later.
On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. 
The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her.
Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems.
I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either!
As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call.
It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving.
It went like a dream! Not a single cut!
I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!

What next? 
I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! 
The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good!
Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications.
Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me.
So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day!
I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!

I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes. 

It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. 
The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.

I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal.
Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter.
I enjoyed this.

Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the  joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!  

Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement.
I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!

The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd  issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .

So, ending on a high point, Keep Safe. Cheers!

Incompetent Inchy: Thurs 18 July 24 – Cancer Forecast

Jolly Good Morninski!

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Today’s main contestants in life’s pain and bother battle have been Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, or rather, the difficulty of his battle with Neuropathy, Pete, in trying to get the cerebrum to identify the messages he was sending to the brain!  
I was all over the place. Dropping things, walking into things, stuttering verbally and physically while resisting the Cartilage Girls Chloe & Carole’s desire for me to take a tumble and end up on the floor throughout the day!
I was also waiting for the arrival of three deliveries: one from the Cheap Food Shop and two from Amazon. Even if I found the time (three hours needed) to get a sh_ _, shave and shower, I dare not. I cannot hear the fire alarm, door chime, intercom, mobile, or telephone when I’m in the wet room. Absolutely no chance when I’m under the shower, and I do need a good scrub-up badly; having the Diabetic sock on the left leg and the diabetic compression bandaging on the right one for four weeks now meant I couldn’t take a shower. 
I needed the toothache tincture spray, upholstery cleaning spray, and brush (delivered today) that I’d bought. They came very late in the day, so my eyes worsened, and tiredness came on rapidly.  
I just ran out of time again.
Up around 05:00hrs. 
I found that the nocturnal bag had more in it, but Shaq later confirmed that it was grade 6 on the NHS chart. That’s not good.
The rubbish from yesterday’s delivery of the damaged saucepans was put near the flat’s entry/exit door.
This inspired me to take a look at the three new saucepans and try to photograph the damage.
The new small saucepan arrived just before Carer Shaq arrived. The saucepan at the back left was put underneath the stove.

 

Here, on the right, is the damage to those delivered yesterday. A broken handle and a dented rim on the other one at the corner. 
The new small pan that came today seemed to be okay.
Shaquille classed the urine as a 6 this morning. I went off to the Porcelain Throne.
I went through the crosswording and counted the cracks on the wetroom ceiling routine. Constipation Conrad was adamant that nothing was to escape. None did!
I made up another bag of waste, and then, at long last, I got onto the blogging duties. 
The new saucepan was nice and heavy, as are the others. Less chance of my knocking off the cooker!
I went to make a brew of the wonderfully strong Thompson’s Punjana tea. I took a kitchenette view shot and then went back to the computer. This is when the shaking and shuddering started. I dropped the mug of tea and came close to dropping the computer mouse.
The washing returned yesterday that I’d forgotten all about. It’s not surprising; I was in the land of nod when it came.

I cleaned up and made another brew of tea, Glengettie.
Back to the wet room. Conrad was in full charge again, but this time, my efforts to force things along worked, and four torpedo-shaped, rock-hard chunks created a slash up my bum as they hit the water. It didn’t half stink with it. It also retained the Kharki colour of the last few days. I used the extra-strong bog cleaner, added some Lemon Sherbert disinfectant and left it to marinate for a while longer.

The fabric foam sprays were delivered at about 15:00hrs. I’ll have to ask a Carer if they can read the instructions for me and write them down later. 

I made an Asda order for next week and will put it on the Google diary to avoid the double order from Iceland coming this week. I am a fool!
The blog’s progress was so slow. Error, mistake, mix-up, grammar, hitting wrong keys… Not good at all! 
Aha! The tooth pain spray arrived. I think I may have whooped for joy? Not sure! But when I opened the crushed and torn little box, I found the instructions were too small to read. Even with the magnifying glass!
Glaucoma Gladys, Cataract Katie and the eyelids drooping with tiredness forced me to stop blogging.
I’ll ask whoever comes on the evening call if they can read the instructions. It’s been a busy day. At least, it felt like it had.

The cheap food shop order arrived next. I’d got some lemon wafers (also for me), Clara’s Truffles for nurses and carers’ and other treats. As soon as I remember what, I’ll let you know.

I shall return with an update in the morning. (He says)
I went to see what food was available, I hope I can read the use-by dates. I took this rather decent, apart from the blotched snap of the view.

Carer Chris turned up. As he sorted the night catheter pouch out to put on, he listened to my tale of cleaning the upholstery and suggested I buy a new recliner. He got on my computer to have a look at the prices. The prices put an end to any intention of buying a new one. Until Chris spotted what I would have been interested in, a brown one, which was so cheap that it must have been a mistake, I thought. The others he looked at ranged from £999 to £4,120! This brown one was only £300! Too good to be true? But Chris confirmed the price. Delivery in 3-5 days at £99. I thought I’d ask Kara to take a look. This had tweaked my interest. Chris took the diabetic socks off, slipped me a painkiller and then read the instructions on the toothache tincture bottle. I asked him to do this to confirm whether I should spray it inside or out and what to do immediately after application. He patiently read through them and told me that I had to spray them on the affected area inside but that I must not swallow for any reason for ten minutes after spraying it on. Bless him.
I had a last look at the advertisement for the recliner…
Whoopsiedangleplop! I realised it is self-assembly. Me? Able to assemble a recliner? No!

Out of the blue, a new pain came! On the top of my left foot, ankle-end. This was painful, a sort of fluctuating throbbing stinging kind. This bodes not well! I’ve already got Arthur Itis, a currently dormant ankle ulcer and Cartilage Chloe collapsing painfully on my left leg. I’ll be struggling to hobble around in the morning. (I always look on the bright side, Hehehe!)
Toothache Tiffany launched a pain attack as I was mountaineering up onto the second-hand hospital bed. I thought about spraying some more of the painkiller onto the gums. But I don’t think Chris said anything about the frequencies to be used; how often, timewise? 

As I was about to settle, I remembered I’d not had anything to eat yet. So I descended from bed and doubled up two ready meals in the microwave. I hoped it was soft enough for my teggies to cope with.
I ate about a third of it.

I wasn’t up to getting back into the bed, so I collapsed thuddingly onto the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.

Zzz!

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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers unless you’ve got Dementia, then you lose both buggers!

Incognisant Inchy: Wednesday 17th July 2024

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The master phrase to describe things today is not easy to select. I’m so far behind with everything and meandering. I’m losing track, forgetting, and struggling to see and hear things. 
‘CONFUSION’
It is already Thursday, and the confusion is still with me. 
Along with giving way a few times. In fact, when Carer Christopher was visiting Thursday morning, he saved me from a tumble with his quick reactions. Thanks, Chris!
The day was full of bafflement, confusion, and an inability to comprehend what was happening. I got weary and tired, and my eyes worsened far earlier than usual today.
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Still not good.


Early morning view.


Rubbish readied. This reminded me of the damaged saucepans delivered by Amazon. One had a broken handle end and two dents in another. I can’t be bothered complaining; I’ve enough worries to cope with without this.

Off to the Porcelain Throne.
Messy!

The lower legs had thinned, but around the knees, the Cartilages and behind the knees were bloated.

Front rubbish room balcony shot.

Made a mug of tasty Thompson’s Punjana tea.
I started the notes and am ready for blog creation.

Within an hour, the eyes began to go double-vision. This was very annoying, as up until then I thought I’d been doing so well. Serves me right; I should have known. Progress after this was painstakingly slow. Mistake-ridden, too!

I think the sky began to darken early.

I had just a ready-made Beef in black bean sauce for the evening’s meal. I had this because it had a use-by date of today. But it was alright.
Some leftover sliced bread and a wholemeal roll helped me soak up the black bean sauce. Slurp! I had to disk the white bread when I found some green mould. I washed the pots, carefully not leaving the tap (faucet) running.

I had to give up early on the computer, and my eyes were not up to it. So, I cleared some rubbish into a waste bag and left it near the door for collection.


This I assume, was a snap of the clouds.
But it could be anything.

Got down in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner. And off into the bliss of sleep…

Carer Israel came in. He gave me the medications. I gave him some treats, and off he went. It seemed to me that ten minutes later, he was back, waking me up. Haha!
He removed the diabetic socks and gave me some Peptac and a painkiller (Codeine).
Could I get to sleep again this time? No!
It was one of those nights that was in a determined, mind-blowing mission to remind myself of all the things I loved but cannot get, enjoy or even do nowadays. 
He rampaged through my brain non-stop for hours.
I got so angry with myself because it was obvious to me that the messages, put-downs, and fears brought to my attention were from myself, or maybe or . Is this the same thing?

It was a horrendous night!
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There was a twinkle in my neighbour’s eye,
As she’d taken it out I asked her why,
She smiled. I noticed she was tooth-free, 
Her reply: “I can’t find my hearing aid battery!”
I said, Oh, I’ve lost my spectacles, see!
We both had a catheter, we couldn’t manually pee,
I led her to her flat, smilingly…
Told me she’d lost her key…
We opened the key-safe, eventually,
I went back to flat 73…
Could I find it? Not Me!
Carer led me to it, and I had a mug of tea!.
Hehehe!
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Cheers!

Incommoded Inchy: Tuesday 16th July 2024

This doesn’t bode well, does it?
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Good Morning Each!

I lost my District Nurse for the leg ulcer and Lymphorrhoea Leslie. Last call today. The wound has healed. Damn it! Another bright highlight is lost to the misery of my existence. The pain was worth it to get some company in the flat. Still, they will call to tend to the Catheter contraption every few weeks. So all is not lost company-wise. 
I got an unexpected Iceland order today.  I cannot recall making one at all. To make things worse, I’d just made one for Friday!   
The ablutions again took me an age. Nearly three hours. Of course, after that, I forgot what I was doing and got terribly confused. When I returned to the computer, I proceeded to open the wrong blog and lost hours again before I realised I was working on an old one. Then, I made a mess of transferring it back to the original blog, and even more hours evaporated while trying to get it right again. I fear it may contain some errors, mistakes and cock-ups. I even made a mess of the Ode and had to touch it up… but now I find I’ve reposted the graphic with the mistakes still on it.
Condemnatory self-loathing combined with a frustration of mega-proportions followed. There is no doubt about it: & They are winning the battle to control my mind. They are increasing cock-ups daily and creating a feeling of pointlessness in life. Along with my financial bewilderment, my frustration grows deeper. The pointlessness I feel now is prompted by my inability to counter these at-the-moment problems and knowing they will only worsen. It’s the same with  , & dying-off. It ain’t gonna get any better.
All this created a counter-opinion, and I feel shame complaining to myself. Obviously, (to me), I must deserve this misery. My past actions, maybe? I am just hoping that someone in the medical world reads this blog and can conjure up some compassion and help me to cope. Hahaha!
Enough of this self-pitying! At least, although a struggle time-wise, I can somehow produce the odd decent ode
. Even if this blog is reduced to just an ode a day. Inevitable eventually, what with taking me three hours to get the ablutions done, and all the time spent correcting errors, the tumbles and stumbles, my camera using problems, my memory being unreliable, the catheter pains, Leg dances, my eyes fading, lack of hearing so bad I can’t hear the intercom, fire-alarm, door chime or water leak alarm. I’m guessing what people are saying. And the unwanted Dark-Dank-Depressions after each related incident, yet I still love doing this blog & ode. So, as long as I can, I will, even in cut-down form. I love reading other folks’ blogs and receiving and answering comments on mine. It’s my social life. And I do appreciate it. I can’t help it; I’m addicted! Now, where are my Codeines? Hehehe! Another minimalistic set of unreadable notes to refer to. It’s a good job that I took some Kodak Tim photographs to help me recall things. But it is now tomorrow, and my recollections needed some help. I’m getting things so mixed up lately. My concentration and eyesight are getting worse earlier each day.

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The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed, and the day pouch connected. At the same time, a little naughty, disapproving language was spoken to the painful . Which seemed to get them more irritated. Tsk!

I got the three waste bags made into one and placed it near the front door. I then had an
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I didn’t need to struggle to remember this incident! I hit my poor left foot’s toe as I turned around to return to the mini-hallway.   Arrgh!
Even considering what was about the Cartilage girls and what was about to happen in the wetroom, this remains the single most painful experience of the day!

I hobbled to the kitchenette and took some non-prescription painkillers. Taking this photo of the view from the window. Still cursing for stubbing my toe!

I got on the computer to start the graphic for the ode of the day. To my Utter Dismay, the alignment options in the WordPress Gallery had a blank icon for the No Alignment choice box! Has anyone else gotten this new error from their WordPress? All is not lost. Pressing the blank rectangle still makes the graphic or photo non-alignment. Good innit? WordPress!

Five cube-shaped articles plonked into the WC. Followed by a short hailing of following up. I got the feeling that I had better not stand up yet. A good job, too! For a second wave from , heavier than his first, flowed… well splattered, freely. I think I was lucky here.


I cleaned and cleared up after the double-entendered evacuation. And did the teggies.
Then, the potentially dangerous job of shaving was tackled. Five bloody cuts, and a later by around ten minutes, I gave up trying to stop the flow of the red stuff on my cheek and nose
. The Brut was not working this morning. This called for the strong stuff! I got the tube of cream that I used for Little Inchies Fungal lesions and dabbed some on the stubborn face cut. I’m so glad I didn’t jump any higher than I did, or else my head may have gone through the concrete ceiling into the above flats’ wet room! Well, it felt like it! I put a plaster with some Dettol on the ultra-tiny cut. Then I had another jump! Hehehe! But it did the trick for a while and stopped the flow.
Then, yet another farce: getting the fresh PPs on. It was all the same hassle and pain as yesterday’s attempt, but it took longer to get them on today. I’m not sure why, really. Silly me! Obviously (now I think of it), were hurting me far more today. It was another record length of time to get the job done.

I got back to my blogging duties, and the intercom sounded. It was a food order from Iceland. And did I make one only yesterday for next Friday? Indeed, there was an error somewhere. As I accepted the bags kindly dropped in the doorway for me by the driver, it was clear from the contents that this was indeed my order. The 2 extra large Lamb Shanks confirmed this. I got the things stored away, and what a job this was! After loading it up, I thought I heard the fridge creaking. Hehehe! I was pleased to see that I had some more pod peas in there, and they will be eaten up with a lamb shank & gravy, with some roast potato cubes!
Iceland had substituted some items again! Don’t think that this angered me, made me spit, or got me feeling all pissed off. Well… yeah, I did!
A few drops of rain when I eventually opened the curtains and took these belated morning shots of the view from the balcony.
The mudslide was somewhat intrusive this morning; well, it’s lunchtime now.

The Cartilage Girls continue to give me some pain. In fact, not that I’ve done a lot of hobbling about. Cartilage Chloe once and Cartilage Carole twice gave way on me. But thankfully, there have been no tumbles. I’ve been Tumble-Free all day up to now!

Carer Sam called belatedly. They are doing their best. Obviously, they have problems just as we do. No bother.

I launched myself most belatedly at the blog updating.

District Nurse Sarah (I think it was) came in to check over the burst ulcer from the burn and Diabetic Edema. She called for advice, and they agreed that this is as much as is needed with the diabetic bandaging. The ulcers on both of my ankles are leak-free now, but I’ll miss them calling on me.
I didn’t cry too much! Haha!

I started shelling the pod peas in preparation for the meal preparations. Quite a few of them got into the bowl, but many amazingly just jumped into my mouth. I can’t understand it.
These lamb shanks are easy to cook in the bag. I later dropped the peas in the water to cook.
On a low boil, they take only 30 minutes to cook this way.
I then sorted the potato cubes from the Asda bag from the freezer. Remove the ones with any black spots on them. Which was about 25% in total. And got them cooking on a tray in the oven.
After a while, Carer Sam arrived. Medicated me, and then I went to check on the now-burnt potatoes. I picked through them to remove the too-hard ones and those with the black spots I missed and got them in a dish to add later.
What a feast!
Thoroughly enjoyed it, apart from some of the burnt spuds being too hard for my shortage of teeth and the few remaining being in the sad, broken, painful state. It was almost, but not fully worth the pain afterwards from .

I had planned to get back on the blog, but fading eyesight and increasing tiredness forced me to stop everything and just sit down in itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. 
I turned on the TV and just fell asleep. It was heaven!
Carer Chris came, and I cannot recall much of this visit. I think he… well, no, I don’t know. 
Later, Christopher called for a late visit, and I still slept. I can recall him taking off the one sock I had on. In the morning, I found it crumpled up on the ottoman. He must have put the catheter night bag on for me.

I continued to sleep without any problems. Having the longest-ever kip for months! I suppose I needed it?
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Please try to be happy,
Content, surrounded by magnanimity,
Ousing with loveability & affinity,
Wallow in moving mutuality,
This sounds good to me!
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Keep Safe!
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Incontinent Inchy: Monday 15th July 2024

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04:25hrs: I begrudgingly heaved and hauled my overweight, blubbery body from the bed. I even thought of getting back in it as Cartilages Carole & Chloe kicked off the moment I put my colossal weight on the knees. 
I bent to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. The bag was a  little fuller this morning, considering I’d only been in bed for about four hours. Yesterday’s not being a happy laddie lingering into today. There I was, sitting on the Throne, having a go at the crossword puzzle book, just seeing if I get some answers to the many not-finished ones over the months. I 
counted the cracks I could see on the ceiling. It amazes me how I seem to get a different number each time. And I suppose. 23 today.  The first long, deep brown torpedo escaped painfully, followed immediately by splatterings from . The end loose evacuated product was once again of a Kharki hue, small and wet but lumpy. Well, it made a change for me. Haha! 
The were tackled next. Starting with the hurtful, bleeding-again teggies. Then, the extremities needed cleaning in preparation for the medicationings. These were done before the shaving this morning. Another first for me is that I’ve always done the shaving first, but not today. I’ve no idea why. One good thing about having the diabetic socks and the compression bandaging on both legs is that I can’t clean them, so one job is saved. Also, I do not need to medicate the leg ulcers or ingrowing toenails.
Were Germoloided once things had dried from the washing of the bottie. I found that I’d run out of the anti-fungal cream for Little Inchies cream. So I tried some Germolene to see if that eased it a bit.
It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things any worse, either. 
I got the Derma cream under the arms, man breasts and forehead, which was silly because I’d not done the shaving yet. Tsk!
Then moved on and gave a good rubbing in of the Phorpain gel to both knees. To ease the pain from , and . Next, I got the olive oiling done down both earholes. Had a bit of an then. I dropped the dropper bottle and lost even more time cleaning the mess I made up. But worse, all the bending to retrieve the olive oil from the mat and floor, set the Cartilage gals, Arthur Itis and off. I then performed a short but natty, nasty version of a , which made me wobble and joined the list of injuries. And I hadn’t even tackled the dangerous parts of shaving and getting dressed yet!
Still, being of excellent pain tolerance, a twerp, and so brave with it, it didn’t worry in the least, not one bit! But I assume you already knew that?
Then , the costly Cataract Blepharitis application process had to be done. The spray is no bother, but the drops I just can’t hold my hands steady enough to get it in right. Doing the pads is okay. Then, I waited for the regulation for 5 minutes and wiped it all off again from the eyelids. I would estimate the cost of liquid I missed the eye with that ran down into my mouth and onto my testicles from my chin, not to mention poor Little Inchie; it must have been about £10 worth every day I do this.  
Now, the shaving needs to be done. I wondered how long I’d already spent doing the ablutions. I reckon I was already over two hours and still had to shave and dress.
The shaving was cutless! Yes! But getting the PPs on more than made up for my good luck with the shaving. 
With either knee being liable to give way, my left leg is so painful to lift up. 
Always a risk and or possibility.
On routine, I set about the tried, tested, but often failing ‘get-the-pants’. I wedged my rear end against the sink, with at hand, and of course,
the small Plastic Pickerupper Paul. I was gobsmacked at how easily I got my right foot in the pants. Might not be so bad, I thought to myself… What a plonker!
I all but went over when I first tried to lift the left leg up high enough to get the foot in the pants. On about my third attempt, I was getting frustrated, to say the least. Not necessarily because I couldn’t get the foot in; this is a regular problem, but with the pain I was going through trying to! 
I tried one last time and was prepared that the pants would stay off if this did not work! Which, of course, is not on if Little  Inchies fungal Lesion bleeds, as it often does, hence the PPs in the first place; it could be bloody and embarrassing if a Carer or nurse was here when it flowed down my legs, over the catheter bag and pouch, onto my foot and then the carpet! 
There’s no other word for this; Lifting the leg with one hand holding the sink and the other with a picker-upperer and the walking stick was bloody painful! One final effort, a grimace, a few curses and both legs were in!
I was shattered! Aching all over. I felt like I’d been up for hours; in reality, it was about three hours of angst and pain, but at last, it was all over… until the morning, it’ll start over again!
Painkillers and some anti diarrhoea capsules were taken!
I actually chirped up a little later, Yes! Then again, I usually do if get on the computer, and even more so when the eyes are as clear as they can be, and I can see the keyboard and the letters. But at the back of my demented brain, I know that come midday, the double vision will return. (It did)  

Carer Richard arrived minutes after I turned on the computer. I patiently waited for CorelDraw to load up —no, that’s another fib. Richard got the medications sorted out, but I forgot to ask him to take of the diabetic sock, so it will have to stay on until tonight when a Carer can take it off if I remember to ask him or her. I bet it reeks a bit! 
I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bags into one. I left it near the door.
I returned to the computer and steadily progressed with the extra blog of old cartoons blog. Then, a sudden… well, fear came over me. Had I left the hot water tap running again? I hobbled hastily to check.
All was okay. After yesterday’s farcical, imbecilic three times of letting the tap run cold, my confidence was at a low ebb. I checked several times today, but up until now, I have not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. At least today, I got a wash and shave with hot water available. Despite spending nearly four hours in the wet room in agony, at least  I got the cleaning and medicating done. 
I had a mammoth, or maybe it was one of   . Or perhaps I fell asleep on the computer? Up to now, I’ve only had two ! 

The sun did its best to get through today, but it couldn’t do it just like yesterday.
I took this shot through the kitchenette windows.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I never got around to making one earlier.
I took the brew to my beloved but poorly computer and digested some of my favourite biscuits via a good dunking. Haha!
I like Yeo Valley organic milk and have tried it a few times. As instructed by the Doctor, I’m keeping within her demands that I have only two mugs of tea a day.

Arrived. A nice young gal. Showed concern at my wobbly walking. I explained the ablution episode and showed her a photo of yesterday’s burnt meal and saucepan. She did laugh!
I found some potatoes in the only saucepan I had left. Humph! They were well seasoned with sea salt, pungent soy sauce and a drop of vinegar to eat later.

Great balls of fire!
The bag tore off of the catheter pouch; it was so full!!! It had filled up so quickly.
It’s a darned good job that Carer Kara keeps a supply in stock for me.

Now I’ll have to pack up on the blogging. My vision is getting much worse.
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Back to finish off in the morning – I hope!

I’m back…
Carer Chris arrived. Tucked into the nibbles and drinkies, but he was in a rush, poor lad.
He turned down the heat on the oven. And I watched part of one episode of the old Heartbeat on the resistance to making a link, unwanted and needed, overpriced Virgin Media fibre TV.

I had a pastie, potatoes, and sliced fresh tomatoes for my meal of the day. 
Followed by a naughty but nice Lemon and cream Bliss.

I took this late shot while washing the pots and settled to get some sleep. It took me hours to nod off, yet my body and mind were worn out.

Tired? Me? YES!

TTFN each. 🤔 
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Incognisant Inchy: Sunday 14th July 2024

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Another miserably tormenting day…
The SD card threw the pictures away, yet it randomly let a few go through to CorelDraw (which has not frozen yet today)
So, here is a very small selection of photos today.
For the first time in months, the right ankle started giving way, and Cartilages Choe and Carole were doing this all day. I’ve ordered some snacks, so if the SD loader permits me to do so, I’ll try to get some photos of the order.
It feels proper cold this Sunday. The Sun is yet to display.
At this moment, I’m feeling down, coughing, sneezing, my eyesight is fading, and I’m grumpy. The only thing that might cheer me up is England beating Spain in the Euro Final. The experts on the telly say it is possible. 
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Murky wee-wee.

Being depressed, I treated myself to an early cuppa.

Sorted out the waste bins into a bag.

Does this shot I took of the balcony door and Carers chair look to you like it does me, Garth Vader? Hehehe!

Carer arrived. Medications, and he put a sock on my left leg. I got on with the blogging as quickly as I could.

Carer Kim called. A little natter and laugh.

This is the third emptying of the catheter day pouch.
It looks a little cloudy. I think there is some sort of something in the jug. Likely a few bits of my prostate. I can’t have much of it left in there? Lost no end of photos again.

I finally posted the Saturday blog and then started on this one. I got up to here, and the food delivery arrived. I’m not getting any comments in? Oh, dearie me!

I’d wanted to get a kip in before the match, but now I have to stay awake in case the food comes and I can’t hear the intercom… Humph! 
I did think of getting a shave and shower, but that is now out of the possibility zone for two reasons. One: I’d no longer be able to hear the door chime or intercom. Two: I’ve done it again: I left the hot water tap running, so there is no hot water!
There are times that I immensely dislike myself.

I shelled some peas, added potatoes, and boiled them. Washing the things up, Carer Kim arrived. (I think you may know what’s coming here). I got back on the computer,

The potatoes and peas had boiled dry. The saucepan had to be thrown away beyond cleaning, and I had no hot water again anyway! I’m not a happy laddie!

Carer Came. My eyesight faded too much while he was here. He checked the replacement chips and pie I was now cooking. The carer pointed out that I’d not put the pie in and did so, taking out of the foil tray, and crumbs went all over the tray oven and floor. I’m not a happy laddie!
Now, this meal needs taking out, prepping, and eating.
I’m not a happy laddie!
I have no time for blogging, and I wanted to get it done before the football match. I’m not a happy laddie!
I’m not a happy laddie!
If they are on the card, I’ll have to sort the photos in the morning. I finally got the food sorted out. I’m further behind than ever now, and I have the oven, floor, cooking utensils, and pots to clean after eating.
I’m not a happy laddie!

Monday Morning Catch-up.
The meal-making disaster!
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I found this after a short hiatus into the land of a , and smelt the burning coming from the kitchenette.
This was my pan of terribly expensive potatoes and garden peas that I had painfully and carefully spent an hour podding and seasoning, only to let burn!
I was not a happy laddie!
It took me ages to clean up.
This had to be done with boiling water in a saucepan because today was the third time I had left the hot tap (faucet) to run cold! Grrr! I suppose my leaving it on a setting of 3 and not on a half for an hour didn’t help.
I was not a happy laddie! 
After much effort was put into cleaning the heavy saucepan I’d burnt, I realised it was futile. I had to throw out the saucepan and lid. The total cost of the food and trying to clean the pan, not counting all the time spent in preparation, must be £30!

And yet, I still felt England would not win the Euro final; my EQ just knew.

This later turned out to be true.
However, I was proud of England’s effort. Although Spain was the better team from the start, England did not give up. They did their best, which is all we could ask.
I hope there is no more call for the England manager to resign. Getting England to the final was a victory, so we used up all our good luck. Gareth Southgate’s team has done so much better overall. But England’s 58 years of pain and disappointment in competition finals continue.

I had to make another meal. Not that thought I’d enjoy it. But I did. Bar the cement-like rock-hard bad-teeth-breaking beetroot, of course. 
I’m not a happy laddie!

While washing the pots, I decided to make a sign in the morning and put it on the kitchen wall behind the sink: DO NOT LEAVE ANY TAPS RUNNING!
I bet that I forget to!
I got Kodak Tim & took these blotchy photos of the view that was on offer. Nice!


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May your essence of life be pleasant!

Inchy!

Implausable Inchy: Saturday 13th July 2024

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I’ll not mess about… Today started pretty well.
The Computer Froze. Somehow, I got it back on after the dreaded blue screen appeared. I pressed on with the blogging. The SD reader stopped working, and I spent hours not knowing what I was doing and getting so upset that Duodenal Donald kicked off for the first time in weeks! The Peptac was guzzled a lot after this started. It does no good, psychologically it may?

Then, both websites froze, including Google and Firefox. 
I’d already lost hours on the first two disasters. I was lost on what to do with this one and thought it was the end.
I turned off the computer and then went back on again. I then got another dreaded MS blue screen. I was offered four options. But they may as well have been written in Outer Mongolian, from what I could glean or understand. Only the ‘Turn-Off Your Computer’ was decipherable. So I did. Really pissed off now. Even almost angry. I had a vision of me going into the fire at my cremation and waking up – such is my rotten, unbelievable luck.
I decided to get a wash and shower. Carer Chris came, and I got off track to give him his weekly treats for his son, as he’s off for two days. Medications, one diabetic sock on, and I bade him farewell and a good rest.
I went to the wet room for a good shave and shower, only to find that the hot water faucet had run cold! I remembered putting last night’s dishes in the sink to soak—then that, you know, sort of tightness of realisation in the stomach hit me en route to check to see if I’d left the hot tap running. I Had!
When Carer Joanne called, she didn’t look very well. But was kind enough to tell me some problems, with advice for me, with her Catheter, and I was having similar trouble. We were united in our sufferings. ♥
The JS order arrived, and the Low-Cost Food order arrived an hour or so later. The JS driver kindly put the things into boxes and bags for me, and bless her with cotton socks. ♥ Despite all the hassle of the day so far, I was pleased with some lemon wafer biscuits from the Low-Cost shop. And the adorable Vegan Maryland Cookies came from J Sainsbury. Now I have my three favourite nibbles to hand, and being depressed, lots of them were soon my tummy! I got a lot of bother from …serves me for being greedy.
Paracetamol & Codeines were taken. And no sooner,  started electrocuting me. Bad enough, but she’s been at it now for eight hours on & off!
I got some peas shelled t have with the beef pie and potatoes later on. But was concerned about not getting the blog done. So, I ventured to the computer desk, smelling my unwashed B.O., as I prayed 🙏🏻 for the SD Card thingy to work and Google or Firefox to work again, and got the computer on.
Hallelujah! 👍 Or at least partly, the browser was working again, but the SD card reader wasn’t interested. 
About four hours later, I tried another reader, but that did not work. So, I took out the leads one at a time and returned them. About the 11th, the lead was returned, and Bejesus, the reader, worked! Now it’s getting dark, I’m drained, and my eyes are getting worse. Just thought I’d mention it. I’ve been up for over 18 hours and still only just started this blog. I had to get the photos on CorelDraw to save them to file… and I know this sounds impossible – But CorelDraw Crashed!
Luckily, this costly, incompetent art package does a lot of crashing, so I can remember what and how to go through the salvation process several times a week. But it cost me the most valuable thing after my health and wealth loss: my precious time. And I’m not in a good mood now. However, I shall continue into the morning to get caught up. ,

Well, it is well past time to get summat to eat,
See you later… if I can wake up in the morning. Haha!

It is Sunday morning now, and I am still well behind with this blog, with a lot of catching up to do. But, first, I had difficulty forcing myself to get up. After a terrible night of broken sleep. On with the blogging photographs…

Dark again.

Beautiful tree copse and bottom field,

Treats packed up.


Waste bags sorted.

Say no more…

Later kitchen window view.

JS order arrived.
Got the stuff away.
Ready-made meals and fresh garden peas.

Low Cost Food order.

Thompson’s Punjana brew.

Hours & hours lost with MS Windows, computer and CorelDraw difficulties. Deep Dank, Dark Depressions!

Ah, a nice shot here.

I started shelling some pod peas to go in with the ready meal of Cottage pie.
Got on a slow boil-simmer.

Went to get the fodder served up.
The rain was back!

Baked potatoes are on the left of the tray, and gorgeously tasty Flora No-Butter, butter, and podded peas are added.
Cottage pie with some Hammonds sauce on top.
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We Need Peace

Peace to all, deserving or not…
Peace; Very little have we got,
Thanks to the Oligarchy lot,
Their fortune made is misbegot!
Peace? The chance is a longshot,
For peace, we can scheme and plot…
Putin prefers a riot…
But not amongst his own lot,
Anyone else is liable to get shot,
Peace is needed, but who gives a jot?
Find Peace? Humankind cannot!
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TTFN

Incoercible Inchy: Thursday 11th July 2024

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Possibly my most confusing day for weeks now.
In and out of control of things and happenings.
One late morning and Gawd knows how many more throughout the day.
I can’t recall being in such confusion for a long time.
I found out later that I’d placed an order for J Sainsbury. But it’s all a mystery to me. Looking at what I ordered really made me wonder how the hell, why, and when I made it.
I can’t help but occasionally worry about it and myself.

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It’s too dark yet again. It usually clears a bit later.

Taken while getting the Nocturnal Cather Pouch unattached. The white spot is the flash from Kodak Tim.

Made up a waste bag and hoovered around the main room. It’s that Inchy, you know, forever dropping crumbs, pens, torches, mobile phones (when he can find them), and anything else that is not attached to him is droppable, really.

Ablutions, medications & Porcelain Throne Visit(s)
I carried out another Whoopsiedangleplop after the first painful use of the Porcelain Throne – I forgot all about, or maybe I might have thought I’d done it, the shaving!
As with yesterday’s first attempt, the movement was showing no signs of any interest in escaping the depths of my heavily fabbed body and innards.
So, I got the crossword book out. Flipped it open and started on the random one. I also got a few answers; I got two more answers anyway. Then, the pain started, which again caught me by surprise. All the signs were that it was going to be a Trotsky effort. To take my mind off the pain, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling for a while. There were 27 cracks up there, I think. The pain suddenly reached a crescendo, and a tear came to my eyes; I gritted the few teeth I had left in my mouth, cringed and anticipated that a lot of blood would need cleaning up when it finally arrived. As it almost shot out, the pain eased, and the plump, plump… plumps were heard as the almost cube-shaped giant, Kharki-coloured Oxo cubes hit the water – to be followed by what I thought would have been the first things to exit… Whoosh, splatter, all done! I reckon it was controlled by 15% of Constipation Conrad; the rest was definitely a Trotsky Terence follow-through. This horrendous evacuation may have helped me forget I’d not shaved. 
The medicationalisationing went tremendously well! Getting the PPs on was not so easy. With the assistance of the small pick-upper I keep in the wet room and sticking my butt in the corner near the door for support, I was pleased with how I got the right leg in the pants so comfortably.
I had to lift my left leg with my left arm to get it high enough to go into the leg hole of the pants, keeping the pick-upper in the same hand to pull at the pants to get my foot in. One second, I was struggling to keep my balance. The next second, I clumped down onto the floor on my knees. This upset,  , , and in both knees, they let me know their discomfort in the usual fashion. Arrgh! didn’t seem too bothered by my tumble. This shows he’s healing up a bit.
Even crawling on all fours to the recliner to regain my feet was almost tolerable pain-wise. It took great effort to clamber up on the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. I stayed there for a minute or two. As I grabbed , I’d left in the wet room and rose gingerly from the chair. Carer Christopher arrived. He seemed in a light mood, bless him. He got the one diabetic sock on and medicated me fully.
I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette. I took this Kodak Tim of the grim view on offer. I think the sun will struggle to get through today. As usual, my eyes were much better in the morning than in the afternoon. So I made a mug of tea and pressed on with yesterday’s blog while I could see well enough. By 10:30hrs, the double shadows started to kick in. Krunglebumps! But I did get the blog finished and posted.

FLAT FIRE ALARM: I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that the Fire Alarm went off. This was the first time it had activated since they installed the new, louder one, and I did not hear the old one when it was activated. I had a hobble around to check things in the other rooms, but all looked well. I imagine it must have been a test. Because no brigade or staff members had arrived to check things out. They may have changed the day of the tests. When I could get about, any changes used to be amended on the notice board in the foyer.

The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved. Carer Kara visited me. She opened yesterday’s mail, both letters were from the bank. Nowt to fret over, she said. She asked how I was feeling and checked the catheter bag. Kara kindly took the laundry bag down with her.

I returned to the wet room, determined not to have any more tumbles, to get the shave I forgot about earlier done. I had a Porcelain Throne Mark2 visit. No chinks this time, straight to the slushiness if a regular heavily Trotsky Terence commanded evacuation.
Well, at least I get diverse, multifaceted, distinct evacuations. Hehe!
Then, I tackled the shaving. There was just one tiny cut, nothing to bother about. It took me much longer than planned because I couldn’t find my spectacles after getting on the new nightshirt. (I found them later)

My eyes are fading now. I’ll make a meal while I can do it a little more safely before the eyes get worse. 

It’s not a bad effort visually. But the beef and I found both bits of it between the grizzled and fat, was disappointing, as was the so-called gravy. So much for ready-made meals! 
Thankfully, the potatoes that I baked to accompany it were superb. They were seasoned with black pepper and some of the adorable No-butter butter, but even this did not fill me.
So I backed up the sad-tasting but good-looking meal by delving into my favourite biscuit box! Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets. They were nice!

Carer Christopher arrived. He took off my one diabetic sock. Dealt out the medications, and then I asked him to take a photo of me in the new nightshirt.
Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways.
① The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. ② The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” ③ And most uniquely, this is the only time anyone has caught me having two of my shakes on camera simultaneously. Bearing in mind that they are rare and usually do not last for more than a minute makes this all the more remarkable. I ought to be in the medical Gazette! Hehe!

I can hardly recall the details of Carer Chris’s last call. He woke me up but was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, she never stops her bemusing, irritating meddling with the synapses and memory cells. is to blame overall, I think. But I could be wrong, of course. Perhaps failing was involved in the brain invaders’ plot to send me into another world of confusion. For all I know… which is more guesses than estimates.

May Peace & Contentment surround you

TTFN.