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.
â‘  The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. â‘¡ The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” â‘¢ 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.

Incidental Inchy: Wednesday 10th July 2024

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At 03:30 hrs, an electric shock woke me. I did notice as I lay there thinking of getting up, or at least the possibility of this, that the nocturnal catheter back had next to nothing in it. Then nodded off again. I stirred again back into mock-life around 05:00 hrs and was glad I did. The memory box had sent me a message that ‘we’ must get the ablutions done before anyone arrives. Not that I needed this thought prompt; the moment I whiffed my BO was enough to trigger me into frantic action.  
I rolled off the bed, stood leaning on the bed bar, wobbling for a few seconds, and then carried out the catching-my-balance routine. Which took at least three minutes of strenuous exercise. Hehe!
I considered doing a few press-ups, toes and a bit of shadow boxing, but the protection pants had come down and were hanging on the compression bandaging, and that caused me to forget about the physical jerks. It was true about the pants, though. Tsk!

I got a dressing gown on, and the innards instructed me to go to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. The evacuation was a half & half-style. It took a lot of effort to get anything moving. And not a little pain. I was convinced that Constipation Conrad was back in charge of the action. Thinking that this would take some time, I got the crossword book and started having a go at it. I was doing well, as well. Then came the rapid splurge of liquid evacuating; it was all over in seconds. Unfortunately, the mess it sprayed all over took me ages to clean up. There’s always summat goes wrong! And I’d only been up for 10 or thereabouts minutes! Then the morning ablutioning and medications were started.

I got the too-large PPs off and cleaned my lower regions first. Medicated poor old , and Germoloided the piles. Washed my torso; it’s not easy for me, you know! All that blubber around the middle and the getting gigantic man breasts, a hell of a painful job getting to things. Applied the barrier cream around my goolies, under my man breasts and armpits. Cleaned what few teeth I could find left in the mouth. And started shaving. Astoundingly… I thought I’d not have a single nick shaving. , but I should have known better than getting cocky. As I applied the Brut aftershave to my face and body and sprayed the gargantuan mass around my bones and belly, I caught my , knocking it over. I hit my head as I bent down on the sink and simultaneously stubbed my toe as I began to get up from lifting Mickey.
Of course, this didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I got on the computer and am new to this site. Carer Evelyn arrived. She issued the prescription medications, and Evelyn swapped the diabetic socks for me. I asked her to take the laundry down for me. Nice gal. But after she’d gone, the laundry bag was still there. Not to fret, she said she was doing the next call as well, as long as I remember to ask her again.

Onto yesterday’s blog catching-up. It was slow-going as the eyes began to play up with the double and treble visions again. It looks like the sun may come out later.

Carer Kara came to do the financials for me. She went through my emails and opened the letters I could not read. Things seemed okayish. She then kindly told me that the doctor’s surgery had rang her back about the problems with my eyes. I have to have my eyes tested first with an optician. Then, get a report on them from the surgery. Then, the doctor might refer me to the EENT for another operation on the Cataract and Glaucoma… or at least get me on the list for them. I waited 2 years for the last operation that didn’t work. My eyes are worse than they were before the procedure. Humph! 
Kara then called an optician who does home calls. The lady she spoke to said the home eye test would cost me £90. 
They will call Kara back after giving us a temporary date without a time of day for the visit and determining whether they can fill it. Kara put the date on the Google calendar for me. July 2nd. Carer Kara is as good as gold. 
I’m not chuffed with it, but it has got to be done.

Carer Evelyn, the washing has still not been taken. At the bin bag, oh, Carer took that, I think.

But make a meal, I’m really not feeling good.
TTFN!
Morning, I’m back.
The Caregiver called but still did not know where to take my laundry; the bag remains awaiting collection. I was in the right state when she arrived, so tired and exhausted.
I sorted out and ate the meal and settled in to watch the England Euro game. I fell asleep and missed most of it. Huh!

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Food Rating: 9/10!

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Ode From Fellow Blogger & Poet Paul.

Down Nottingham, there’s an odist called Gerald.
Whose smithing of words keeps us levelled.
He’s housebound but not gagged.
By his words bad leaders are scragged.
All of these make him our prophet and herald.

Paul wrote this in a comment. Nice!
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TTFNski, each!

Inchoated Inchy: Tuesday 9th July 2024

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I wish I could have found a turn-off button to the brain today.
Because it was of little use to me. And as for talking to myself out loud and swearingly, it went on and on, with no solutions, ideas, or hopes being created. By the time it came to Wednesday morning, all I’d done on this blog was the top section of graphics! And didn’t start this paragraph until nine o’clock! So this one will be sparser than usual, sorry. 
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Not a good start!

I never considered washing and shaving until I smelt my B.O. as I got my head down 14 hours later! I did visit the Porcelain Throne with the intention of doing the ablutions after the evacuation, but as I sat there emptying the liquid product from my innards, I realised that the nurse was coming today to redo the ankle ulcer bandaging. I thought, well, I’ll do it later… but ashamedly, it wasn’t done at all!

The morning rain rained down.
I did notice it didn’t rain up (Hehe!).

This is the second brew of the day, which should mean the last brew, as I’m restricted to only two mugs daily. I consumed it as I worked hard, confused about what I was doing and possibly making more errors than ever before.
On the bright side, was so kind to me. I don’t think I had more than ten shocks all day!

The precipitation persisted for a while longer.

The Community Nurse Arrives.
This always cheers me up!
She set about getting the swathes of bandaged off of the right leg for me. The punctured ulcer was looking and feeling much better this time. And no sooner had she let the air in; an irresistible urge to scratch at the wound tempted me so much to chafe at it. Hehe!  So, I think it might be getting better now. We, well, I, spoke of the eye problems. The nurse said I should get the Caregiver to call the Doctor for me. Carer Kara did it yesterday, but I’m unsure if she did it in my state now.  Maybe she did later when she arrived today? I’m getting confused. Well, I fancy that; I’m getting confused! Har-Har!

The rain was getting lighter.

I got a letter informing me that I will be made an appointment at the Highbury Hospital shortly, and they will let me know later by post. The photo above was taken on my last visit.

Only the odd droplet of rain falling now. I went on the balcony and took a Kodak Tim from the end car park, where the mud-slide was. Plenty of it, too.

Then, as the eyes faded, I gave up on the computer and prepared the day’s meal. I made some roast spuds in the oven and added them to the sweet and sour ready-made meal I cooked in the microwave.
I’m sorry I bothered with it, now! It tasted just plain overly sweet; what happened to the sour bit of the contents? I’ll not be bothering with one of these again, Mr Asda!

Went to do the washing up, , I again the server trolley wheel. To a certain degree, I swore, rather viciously, washed the things up and took this photograph from the kitchen window. I love it when a snap comes out okay.

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What for you is happiness?
Not being loveless?
What are your favourite meal appetisers?
Mini Steak & Blue Cheese Pizzas?
Maybe tasty Stuffed dates with Ricottas?
Or, like me, cheesy baked potatoes?

Whatever – I’d love you to find that bliss!

TTFNski, Each!

Incessant Inchy: Monday 8th July 2024

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(Starting this blog, Tuesday Morning) 
The day of the one-eyed Inchy! Actually, Tuesday was as well. All day long, things were out of sync. My eyesight and hearing were not good, and I could not hear the intercom, door chime, or fire alarm activation. Cartilages Chloe and Carole were having a ball, freely issuing me pain at a whim. Both gave way a few times, but not at the wrong time, so no crumbling to the floor. Haha!
(I imagine they would have been disappointed in this). 

And must have thought they deserved to win the prize for the ‘Bestest-Inchy-Brain-Interferers’ of the day. But that dubious honour was granted to , with a mention in despatches for & . The ankle ulcers  and   were both much kinder to me today.
I’m really not sure if I was having , , repeatedly falling asleep, or a combination of the three. But little got done that I set out to do. I felt so lacklustre.
Memory promoting from photos from here on.
The urine colour was not too bad later on.

Off to the . Messy!
The Asda order arrived. I handed some boxes and bags to the deliveryman, who kindly filled them for me
at the door.
Then I carted them to the kitchenette, putting the things away in storage, the freezer, the fridge, the cupboards, the floor, and the junk room.
I took some Kodak Tim photographs along the way. This selection had a bottle of disinfectant (Lemon), bleach, and washing-up liquid.
Here, I have a Milk Roll, sliced bread, kitchen towels, bicarbonate of soda, soda water, and some of the economy kitchen towels, which I use to clean my spectacles, hearing aids, and cough into. Thick-skinned red potatoes are used to make baked spuds. Small fresh tomatoes and quick to cook potato cakes. A ready-made feast of cooked meals. Lamb Hotpot, Jamaican patties, Cumberland pie, and a sweet & sour battered balls meal.
I’m not going to starve! Hehehe! 
I must have ordered the wrong milk. It’s rare for me to get something wrong with food orders; this hardly ever happens. Ahem! Later, I tried this organic whole fresh milk. It was nothing special, but it was perfectly edible. My buying it again is not liable.
There was still room free in the fridge after packing everything into it.
Made a diversion to the wet room. For another of the visits. This time,  in control, but only just this time. I sensed a possible resurgence underway from . After noting the lack of any post-evacuation rumbling and grumbling from the innards, I made this decision. 

A series of mini s, all through the afternoon, broke my already fragile concentration.

The drizzle stopped and the grey skies turned a lovely blue hue. Unfortunately, the blotches were still on the Kodak Tim snaps. Humph!
It looked to me, as the right ankle ulcer covered with the compression wrapping was doing better. That was because the wanting to scratch at the itching had returned. On the other foot, it looked like that ulcer was brewing up to do a bursting out. I can’t win. I dread the thought of having to walk with both ankles erupting and both Cartilages giving me grief. I’ll never be able to get to the surgery, clinic or hospital. Thinking this gave me a dread of having to use a wheelchair. Please, I hope not!

I took this evening’s snap from the kitchen window and then worked out my plans for the daily meal. The ready-made meal with the shortest sell-by date was the Lamb Hotpot.
I got some frozen potato chunks cooking in the oven. I checked the timing for the hotpot, and it was six minutes in the microwave. I got some lamb gravy ready to mix. Then retired to the 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, to watch the end of the ‘Heartbeat’ programme. as the first adverts came on the screen. Waking up in response to a giant whole-body-twitch and jump! I recalled a bit of a dream I had been having. It involved me and Grizelda in mutual contact! So, say no more! Then I smelled the potatoes cooking in the oven…
 I en route to the kitchenette, hit my shoulder on the edge of the door frame when I entered the kitchen. I found that the potatoes needed a little extra time to get them as I like them. Very well singed! 
So I put the meal in the microwave, and as the microwave pinged, I took the potatoes out of the oven. I acquired the standard burnt finger on the oven racking. (I Germolened it.) Then I made some Germolene-flavoured Bisto lamb gravy, adding a drop of Winiary Przyprawa seasoning into the mix.
Then, put the potatoes into the bowl, and poured the gravy over them. Followed by scrapping the lamb hotpot contents out of the tray on top. What an absolute feast of a meal this was! It just may have been the flavour of the Germolene that gave it an extra tang? Hehehe! I had a pot of mandarins in jelly to round off the meal. 
Passed wind, bleached and drifted of into another mind-blank or sleep.
Woke up to find the food tray had fallen, leaving crumbs and gravy all over my new nightshirt, my legs, bandages and the carpet. I had to change my attire.
Carer Chris arrived and laughed when he saw the T-shirt that Sister Jane bought me a few years ago. He took a Kodak Tim snap of it and then of the sun setting from the balcony windows.
It was so sad to see so many new blotches in the Horizon pictures, sob! 

It was good of Chris to take the piccies for me, all the same.

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May your plans not get stunted,
Nor your valuables get hunted,
May your problems be ameliorated,
Your hopes do not get frustrated.
That your sanity can be corroborated,
Your computer doesn’t get corrupted,
And your dreams will not be interrupted!
May good fortune be indicated!
May your problems be quadrated!

Please haveth a great day!

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Incarcerated Inchy: Saturday 6th July 2024

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Sorry, it’s not a good one (blog) from here on.
The England match, Seizures with the shock of them winning on penalties, the tumble, and much-needed sleep overtook me.
Highlights here and there, but little written content.
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Very dark.

Unknown why I took this. I can’t recall taking it.

Morning.

Taken seconds before the tumble.
Struggled to get the slippers on. You can see the loose carpet I slipped on seconds later between the slippers.

Waste sorted.

Bootiful!

Food delivery.
4 Frazzles were ordered and charged for, and 2 arrived.

Football Match. Seizure. 

Taken to the right.
Taken to the left, both from the kitchen.

Still kaki, almost cube-shaped.
Had to patch up the compression dressing, then do the usual medicationings, olive oiled the wears, and Germoloided the haemorrhoids. Acne and Barrier creams were applied.
Had a struggle to get the PPs on today.
And getting the Phorpain Gel on;
MedPhorpainIt was as painful as it had ever been.
Talk about making myself jump, which, of course, got the Cartilages playing up. With the compression tackle on the right leg, I can no longer use Phorpain to ease the agony. Hehehe! 
So, more painkillers were taken. At least getting dressed was not so bad; it was just the long pullover nightshirt.

The carer arrived and got the one odd bamboo diabetic sock and slippers on for me.

Fantastic sun rays are coming through the cloud to the right of the balcony. Had the alien invasion started? Hahaha!

Lamburgers with sliced tomatoes in sourdough rolls, & a can of carrots & peas were cooked and served up. A pot of mandarin segments in orange jelly was the day’s dessert.

What a great hue later on!
A Pareidoliaising Delight!
Heads, eyes, animals, Great!

Here’s the brolly revealed that I could not find!

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May your foibles ferment with festivities!

Incapacity Inchy: Friday 5th July 2024

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From here on, this blog will be sparse… very much so. For my eyesight and memory seemed to go off so much earlier today. Having less than 2 hours of sleep did not help. Finding no logical reason for this irked me a smidgeon. I slowly got a lot more tired earlier today. Then, the double vision started. Shame really. But the nurse came and rebandaged the leg and ankle. The wound on spouted out with a flourish of thick, deep red fluids when the nurse took off the sealing pad. She was not pleased with that. She noticed the bruise on my chin, and I explained my Non-Epilectic Seizure and told her how I could not recall going into the wetroom and did not even know I’d taken a tumble or if I’d passed out or not. I just came around mangled in the shower chair with a bleeding gum, broken tooth, sore chin and a headache. She said for me to ring my doctor and her. I’ve gone out of sync again. 


I did not put the night pouch on last night, so heap-geep-coloured urine was in the nearly full-day day pouch.

My eyesight seemed pretty decent when I started writing the blog. But it faded quicker than usual.

Carer Maryham arrived, concerned about my looking so pale, and asked about the scar on my chin. I told her what had happened in my usual wit-interposed way. I got a good laugh back, which was my design. Hehehe! Maryham was concerned for me. Which was nice.


I watched a bit of TV for a while, including election results.


The trip to the wet room was a painful one. I thought yesterday’s was, but this was even worse.

!!!
The computer froze.

Then I got a message telling me things were being auto-mended. It was at it for two hours. I feared this was the end!

The District Nurse arrived. I was unhappy with the ulcer wound’s not healing at all. She also asked about the bruise on my chin, and I launched into a humorous explanation: ‘Ring your doctor!’

The computer was turned off because everything had frozen again. I was at a low ebb now.

Carer Kim came. We went through the same process, but I got a more significant response this time. Kim laughed so much.
‘Ring your doctor!’

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Amazing clouds as I made a brew of tea.
Then, the eyes finally got too bad, and I was about to pack up and restart in the morning, and Carer Chris came.
He medicated me and had to nip off. He was busy but looked so tired. Bless him.
I got some potatoes in the oven and then closed down the computer. Boy, was I tired!
For some reason, as I was cooking, my mind went back to Rationing. Many years ago, when I was on a fishing holiday with Bill, Malcolm and Jock, we had just arrived at Lockerbie in Scotland. I was backing the van into the car park, and Bill, a butcher, said out of the blue, “I wish they would bring rationing back; I made a fortune with all the fiddles…” It’s funny how I can recall this clearly, but I’d forgotten what I had planned earlier to have for my meal tonight. I think it was lamb burgers, but I found a short-dated vegan pie and had that.
I forgot to add the garden peas. The potatoes were grand, but the vegan pie was not so good, although the gravy was absolutely delicious!

Cleaned the pots and back to the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966 made. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. And spotted the scene outside of the sunset.
I thought I’d nip onto the balcony and take a Kodak Tim of it, which I did. Lens blotches included.

It was well past midnight before he let me into his world, a world that I was forced torn from by one of the longest-ever leg climbing I’ve had since they started three months or so ago. After which the ulcer emitted short, sharp, shocks, every ten-minutes it felt like, for the rest of the night.
had returned with a certain degree of nastiness and persistence.


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Have a good day, Tatty Bye!

Incandescent Inchy: Thursday 4th July 2024 Election Day, Expect a Massive Labour Victory

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My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and   complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning.
I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit . 

It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today.
Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.

Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.

I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!

Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.

Here are cloud photos taken over the day.


I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.

We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?

I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google. 

PN vs. MS vs. FND

Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy – Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness. 
 People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others.
Please read this, Doctor, Please!
I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!

It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.

Morning: Catch up on this blog.
A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’
I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in the 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.

Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her! 

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Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.

Farewell, Mon Ami!

Hippo Inchy: Tues 2 July: Proceedured, hospital bedded, and nursed!

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A busy day. Urine was a better colour, though.
I practically fell getting out of the hospital bed. Everyone ran to help me up… within ten minutes.
I was prepped in the usual manner but less regularly than I have been in the past. The laughter in response to my jokes was a little depressing.
I was laid out for the procedure. Then, I returned to my prison cell… no, I meant flat, and I was put in my home hospital bed.
Told me not to do much walking until Friday, when the District Nurses will be calling to check the wound & full=compression bandaging. But the blog awaited my attention, so I went to the computer. Sorry that I did now. The Pain!
I’m afraid today’s blog is terribly short on content. Hope to feel a little better in the morning. I’ll mention what bits I can recall, but photographs are in short supply. This was mainly due to   & .
The carers who called, I think, were Christopher, Kara and Christopher. The other hindrance was .

Only one today. Phew!

Picked up early to the procedure.

Lifted back, nurses arrived to put a different compression bandaging on the leg.

, although all mini ones were helping me get ever more confused. The Carers said nothing, but I knew.

Then the eyes grew worse, and I packed up computing, too much of a struggle with the eyes fading again. Going to get something to eat. Back in the morning, folks.

Good Morning!

I’m back, well, I think I am.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes, getting the food prepared. And on this occasion, devouring it all!
This is a ready-made, just-warm-it-up job: pulled BBQ pork and potato mash. I shelled some pod peas to eat raw with it, baked a potato, halved it, and lathered it in Flora’s creamy alternative to dairy, Non-Butter butter. It’s a wonderfully tasty meal.

Nodded off to sleep, waiting for the football match to start. And Carer Christopher arrived. I just love that yellow Bob-Cap of his.
We did his health checks, and he did them himself. I’m becoming redundant here! Haha! 
Christopher’s BP result was a good one. Slightly Raised.
Only just a tiny bit out of the green section. No Worry.
The Austria v Türkiye match had everything in it: rain storms, sweat, determination, action, and a result that I could live with; a Türkiye win!
The Türkiye team had put in such effort that most men collapsed when the final whistle sounded. Boy, did they deserve it, too!
Carer Christopher arrived on his last call. He medicated me and shot off home. I couldn’t blame him!

No getting in the bed tonight. The pains of the day had worn me out. I fell asleep with the TV still on, and only woke up a few times when shot up my leg from the ankle wound. I soon nodded off again after each rude awakening.
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Cheers!

Helpless Inchy: Monday 1st July 2024

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I reluctantly returned to imitation life at 04:35hrs. Greeted, with warm welcomes, pains from the right ankle ulcer  . was verging on agony. 
I saw everything with a shadow around each object. This problem cleared within a few minutes. (Mind you, it returned mid-afternoon and stayed.) I had to stop blogging.
When the first need of the Porcelain Throne arrived, within the following half an hour, I was on my third visit! No doubt about it, the stinky, Karki-coloured stew. Yes, that’s a fair description. Haha!

By the time I finished creating July’s templates, it was well into the afternoon. There were fewer mistakes this time. Or should I say I didn’t spot so many mistakes? I’ve already found another one in this one and all those following. No Smug-Mode, then.

Phlebotomy Warfarin, Anticoagulation DVT nurse Hristina came to take a blood sample. Lovely to see her again. She said she thought a mistake had been made with me not being tested for so long. It’s been weeks since the last one! But the NHS struggles on. They may have killed off a few on the way, but that will only lighten their load. They did their best to add me to the list, but I filled them. As with the Catheter Contraption’s lack of change, not being allowed to try and pass urine, and failure to turn up by the Community Nurses to change the compression bandages on the ulcer and electric shock ankle… but I think they just like the idea of me being in pain, rather than actually wanting to kill me. Hahaha! I might be wrong, of course.
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I think I must have taken this last night?

Ah, a better colour!

Rubbish sorted.

Terence Returns – Eurgh!

Mid-morning.
Had to make the templates for this month. Nothing else was done for hours. Mistakes corrected… I hope.

I dared not have an afternoon ablutioning session, as I would not hear if the District Nurse arrived. So, I just had a quick shave and rinse, with the wetroom door open, which I turned and walked into on leaving. Arghhh,and Grobbleisations!

Spot of rain later.

I’ve gone from forcing the evacuations to stopping them.

The Morrison order arrived.
Not a big one.
Some good big bag of baking potatoes. Some Morrison pre-crushed white rolls.

I cannot recall ordering a pork pie or sausages. There’s nothing unusual in this, though.

3 for £10 pork slices.

Ah, the best thing of all. Some fresh pod peas. I weakness of mine, you know. Podding these usually end up with three pods emptied into the basin or saucepan and two into my mouth. Often in reverse order. Hehehe! But they are so tasty and irresistible.

Something else that I certainly cannot recall ordering.
A potato hash. I could blame Dementia Doreen, I suppose… but as she is part of my mangled mind, this means I can only blame myself, doesn’t it?

Kodak Tim’s evening view.
I hate those blotches! Grrr!

I made another of my almost guaranteed cock-ups. I took a picture of the evening meal. Well, it was the only meal. I  think I did it without the SD card in! I’ll have to ask Carer Christopher if he can get in off of Kodak Time for me. He got the others off so quickly that I couldn’t follow how he did it! Or else, as deemed by Doreen Dementia, I’ve forgotten how to. So, I may or may not get this photo back. Haha!

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Fare Thee All Well!

Had Enough Inchy: Sunday 30th June 2024

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The ailments were all in good form, working hard to hurt me in Lucifer’s name again. However, I’m not complaining about; up until now, she has only shocked me about eight times since I rose from my sleeping position(about 12 hours ago). Note that I say sleeping position, not from sleeping. Because when I was on the hospital bed supplied so kindly for me, I think she tired herself out with repeated zapping. Huh, I’m typing this, and she’s kicking off again!.
Has only had one shaking spell, which lasted for around two minutes. Hang on, I’m waiting to see if she starts again. No, it’s all quiet with Shirley’s Shoulder. Good! Of course, there’s always something else to keep me nervous and grumbling. Three hours ago, I’d just put the kettle on, and as I went to the fridge to get the milk and opened the door, gave way. I grabbed the window ledge to avoid hitting the deck. My hand slipped off the ledge, and as I went down, I headbutted the clock. It no longer works. The bruise is disappointingly faint and small, so no sympathy-seeking success is achieved. It did raise a laugh from the weekend Carer, though. Still, I took a Kodak Tim selfie; it might get some sympathy from… Nae, no, it won’t! Hehe!

Carer first call, we managed a laugh and a quick natter

Here are the pictures.
A brighter-looking catheter bag first thing.

There is no sunshine at mid-morning; it seems to be getting darker already. Does this have anything to do with tonight’s England match against Slovakia?
I’m typing this as the match is on. England’s performance in this half was dismal. The ref booked three England players in the first half. The Slovaks scored early on. The second half had just started. A goal was disallowed for England, and another English player was booked, but the ref finally booked an opposition player. Dirty tackles got away with, and the referee likely got a good backhander out of this. Captain Kane just missed a sitter! I think they plating better after the substitution. 
Another goal opportunity missed by England hit the post.
England doing better now. More Slovak substitutions.
England substitution, Toney comes on. Bellingham Scores For England with an overhead kick. What a goal! 1-1 now! Right at the end of the game, while they were in injury time!
So, 30 minutes of extra time are coming now! I’m trying not to get excited. Hope is swelling in my stomach after the earlier England match results, but I do not have faith. 

I can’t stop to make a meal now. I nipped into the kitchen to prepare lamb burgers and potato chunks that would cook in half an hour. I put them in the oven. I hastily returned to the TV and computer and found I’d missed a second England goal! A Kane header.
2nd half of extra time, Slovakia playing well again, threatening, winning more balls, and scaring me.
The Slovak players are booked. They are dirty tacklers, and I’m surprised at the degree of leniency. Or am I? Slovacs is still on the attack. They get a free kick from their friendly referee. Slovakia gets another free kick. They are pressing hard; I’m unsure if England has been in the opposition half yet. Another Slovak is booked. This is tense stuff! Slovak corner. Hit the post. England is under pressure. Another Slovak attack. England breaks, a damp squib! Save by England’s goalie.
The Whistle! England Win! But what a struggle to get through.

The weekend Carers 2nd call arrived. Nibbles and drinkie.
He is on his way home now.

Rescued by Carer Chris photo.
I do no know which day this was made, but I wish I had some spuds to reproduce it.

I’m still working on the blog, but it’s slow work, and my eyes are getting blurry and I’m having double vision again.

I’ll have to pack in blogging soon, with the state of my vision.

Looking bleak early on in the day?

I went to check the food in the oven. It’s still dark out there. The food is not ready because I put it on too low a heat. I’ll get summat to eat in a bit.

Lamb burgers and potatoes well burnt!
But that’s how I like them! Hehe!.

After the meal, I put the pots in the sink to soak and went back to the TV to watch a film. Zzz!
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TTFNski, each!