Inchy: Unbelievable Tuesday 4th February 2025

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There’s usually a thought worth thinking…
Until a problem arrives, more demanding,
Though factors currently depending…
On seriousness, practicality & spending,
Earlier plans may need synchronising,
The original idea may need some tweaking…
Options left available may leave you seething,
Chances of success may be receding?
Can you see where this ode is leading?
Your intentions may be beyond solving,
But you’ve got me sympathising,
You must be realising…
I do not want to be scaremongering,
Needs, desires, once so promising,
Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising,
If possible, they need reorganising,
These failures will be nauseating,
Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening,
No need for any self-admonishing…
Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing…
We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing,
I’m pretty good at motivating…
You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing!
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06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻 

Then things started to get farcical!
The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working.
JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. 
They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery.
I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time!
The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed.
This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows!
Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘

Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!

Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.

Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card.
I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour.
If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in Porc failedan unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know.
Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!

The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?

The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.

Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.

I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.

Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting.
A wide shot, the top one.
Pretty really!
I zoomed in to get a close-up.
Strangely, this one came out alright, too.

The next job was to get something to eat.
Which I did.
Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault!

I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! 
Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! 
I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!

Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.

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SO FAR THIS YEAR
A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost! 
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly!
The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular!
I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems.
Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent.
Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups.

Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time?
Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. 
Can’t get any help!
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I am struggling all around, losing ground…
Things going wrong… others compound,
Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned…
The end is high; I’ll be bound!
I’m sick of being flatbound.
The sanity I once foreowned…
Has departed, and I’m all alone,
With help, my confusion to unconfound…

For solutions to confusion, I toss around,
But my brain is now thought-barren ground,
Ever more problems to confound…
Will I take them with me to my burial ground?
Frustrations are just grinding me down!
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KEEP SAFE, FOLKS!
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Confusionableitis Reigned Tuesday 28th January 2025

2020 Jan 29– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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In my dream, were things terrestrial, 
Thoughts, hopes, desires, nothing bestial,
Treaties, warrants, insurances, so torchable,
Guilty, Oligarchs, politically, & legally untouchable,
Due to our lawmakers being so quickly bribable,
MPs values, honesty, reliability at best theoretical,
How have they solved the Bermuda Triangle?
The mystery seems to be uncrackable,
No-hours contracted workers, legally sackable,
Farmers, pensioners, HMG find robbable,
MPs expenses no longer seem checkable?
Proven dishonest leaders are impeachable?
Guilty murderers are so quickly freeable?
Ministers are unpalatable, unpardonable…
Them lining their pockets seems unstoppable,
Morals & standards are sacrificeable,
Decency & compassion are no longer salvageable,
Despotical bigotry, actions detestable…
Wars, violence, greed everywhere detectable,
Can we trust anything electoral?
Politicians are doubtable, dishonourable,
Do they need help, exorcistical?
They are unceasing with their flummadiddle,

They’ll always seek a way to fiddle!
They are the reason the world’s in such a pickle!

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With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon.
Last night, none of the others made it to the SD card, but this one did! (Or did it?). I half expected it not to go on. I spent ages trying to get the card recognised, and when I eventually got to it, this photo was there! There is a chance it may be an old one, of course. So, I took another picture straight away… that did not go on. The second, third, and fourth ones didn’t make it either.

Now I’m doubting what I actually had for the meal. 
With the others not going on, I think it is likely that I made a mistake somewhere along the line. My new excitement at thinking the camera had miraculously started working again was replaced with a new low – mostly at my stupidity in thinking this was from last night. Humph!
pillockConfusionableitis Reigned.
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Once again, the night’s rest was well-broken. However, I soon nodded off after each awakening, back into the bliss of sleep. I had several dreams, but my memories are too vague to guess at their topics. When I shot awake at 7:00 a.m. and realised it was so late, I also realised that I must have skipped at least six hours. So that was good.
Then the run started.
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and started standing up using . Within seconds I was clunking back down into c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. Unsure if , or hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!

I cleaned up and medicated the lower regions first. Then the areas, then the rear end. Then, the Phorpaining of both Cartilage Chloe and Carole’s cartilages moved onto knees. Olive-oiled the ears, applied, and Creosoted the Ankle Ulcer. I’ve named it Creosoted because it reminds me of it when I painted it on. Haha!
Then, I decided to get the showering and shaving done. I had to get a long shirt and fresh dressing gown sorted first.  I’d run out of clean shirts! These can’t be washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that. This, of course, got me all confused. I ended up washing another shirt in the sink. Hanging it up to dry over the sink… but the shirt was too long. I went into Sherlockian Mode to work out what I could do? Finally, deciding to hang it on the shower rail with a bowl underneath to catch the water. I very nearly adopted a .
I went back to the wet room and hung them up. Of course, now I couldn’t get in the shower. So I pressed on with having a shave. As I’d got the foam on, I dropped the can. I held onto the seek carefully as I bent to pick it back up – naturally, the foam was on the sink, and my hand slipped! .
I hit the top of my head on the Porcelain. Carried on with the shaving and noticed a trickle of blood coming from the top of my head in the mirror. 
As I went to grab the aftershave, I knocked the long shirt off of the rail… it fell into the water below… I swore rather vociferously, as I recall. I retrieved the shirt and rehung it, all freshly rewetted. Huh!
The blood had by now left a pretty pattern down the side of my head, over my chin, and onto my man breasts & chest. I used paper towels to clean it. Using a lot of aftershave to stem the flow. Back to finishing the shaving… The shaving was completed within a minute or two. By this time, a similar pretty pattern of the leaking blood had reappeared.
Off to the medical chest to get a plaster cleaned after shaving the tiny little wound and applying a plaster.
Then I wrote on the memory pad, which enabled me to write this rubbish in detail later. 

I had to sort out the mess in the kitchen from earlier, the wet room, and the shirts. What did I do? I decided the most crucial task was to make a brew of tea, which I did! However, I didn’t get to drink it. Carer Chloe arrived at 08:50 hrs on her first visit.

She pointed out that I had blood running from my head—haha! She wiped it and put a plaster on it while I bore her with tales of my calamities of the day. She then issued the medications and put on the diabetic socks. She also took the laundry with her, including two long shirts. That was kind of her. She was due back later on a domestic call.

As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened!
This evacuation was the messiest ever! Well, not counting the involuntary one when I had the stroke, of course). Gooey in the extreme! An entire toilet roll standard! Stinky! .

I’m no longer as confident of events as I was earlier. Things got foggier when Carer Chloe returned. She’d kindly returned the washing all done apart from the long-shirts. They could not be used in a hot drier, and the ones in the laundry room do not have that facility. So, she hung them back up on the shower rails again. All that help is back at square one. Hehe!
How can people talk about being bored in old age?
If, as I have, one becomes accustomed to Accifauxpas, Whoopdiedangleplops & evil luck, it certainly avoids any chance of boredom setting in. Just a point, but I’d rather like time to get some being bored in! Not too much! I just want to see what it is all about. Of course, I have the benefits of Cogniscent Impairment Iris, FND, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, & Seizure Sandra’s attentions. Is having all four of these ailments probably better than having just one? I’m not confident or sure of how I worked that out now. But it seemed apparent & logical to me at the time.
Chloe checked on the dates of the food. I asked her to take some short-dated items for others to use. She washed the main kitchen windows for me and quickly wiped the floor.
Tomorrow, I think, is a finance visit. Maryham, I guess.

Carer Sam called. We had a precious laugh.

Pressed on with the blog. But such a late start. I’m miles behind with things yet.

It’s now mid-afternoon. Not a single seizure from Sandra has not reported a single seizure. However, I’m sure the mini-ones have been missed in the past.

17:20hrs: Carer Rachel did the teatime call.

I gave up on this blog and went on WP Reader & Comments.

SUGAR! is off again.

I’ll try to get summat to eat.

Carer Rachel made the last two calls.

Sleep was a long time coming tonight.

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AU REVOIR
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Inchy: Thursday 23rd January 2025

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We waited so long for a Labour HMG saviour,
What do we end up with? Dishonest Starmer,
He amassed himself £102,000, by gift & freebie, 
Gets caught out as a cheat & and a by omission liar,
Then, the git decided to rob every pensioner,
Moves on to tax increases for every farmer,

Before was Blair New Labour, Thatcher, the warer,

Both had faults, but neither were poorer…
Then Starmer, the Labour beancounter,
Here’s my chance to be a bit of an auger,
He’ll end up being a greater disaster…
Pensioners eat or heat on bread & butter…
Keir, the bystander, babbler, baffler, bamboozler,

The future has never looked dimmer…
He’s allowed a 50% rise in the cost of a Zimmer!
I wonder what they gifted him for a backhander?
But what options are there for the elector? 
Conservatives, no, Rishi was their suicider,
What would be phantasmagorical…
Is it possible for him to read this little Ode… oracle?

Will he get the message? He is pretty academical,
Unfortunately, he’s also ungainsayable,
A stream of compassion is easily wadable.
Not to take it is cruel and wackadoodle.
More complex for him is the path to turning veridical,

Is his urge for backhanders & lying unrestrainable?
His actions, to date, have been totally unmollifiable,
For a Labour leader, it is astounding and indefensible.
Anything he says now, after so many lies, is unbelievable,
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During the election, Labour promised they would cut energy bills for good. Labour announced proposals to “set up Great British Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company”, and in the run-up to the election, prominent Labour politicians claimed that this would cut bills by up to £300 a year. What has happened: On January 1, the latest Energy Price Cap came into effect; this is the second time energy bills have risen despite an explicit promise by the government to cut energy bills – another broken promise for which we are now paying very dearly for the price raise! 

What has happened: Recently released figures show the number of small boat arrivals has increased since Labour came to power. Between July 5 and December 31 2024, there were 35,242 arrivals by small boat, 33.4% more than in 2023. 

Keir Starmer told the country they could trust Labour’spromises not to raise taxes and not to unleash a borrowing spree. In the House of Commons on October 9 this year, he said, ‘’e made an absolute commitment not to raise taxes on working people. Rachel Reeves said a rise in National Insurance was a tax purely on working people. What actually happened: Labour have done just that and more. They fiddled with the fiscal rules, increased borrowing by billions of pounds, and raised taxes on businesses – which they have now admitted will leave working people worse off. The Office of Budget Responsibility said an increase in employer National Insurance will be passed onto workers. 

Keir Starmer, Steve Reed, and the Labour Party told farmers that Labour respects them, protects their livelihoods, and promises not to change agricultural property relief for farmers. The CLA conference was reported in the FT on December 23. What actually happened? In the 2024 Autumn Budget, Labour broke its promise to farmers by reducing the relief and imposing inheritance tax rates on farmland. This will devastate family farms and seriously threaten domestic food security and prices. 

Amongst LaLabour’sudget of broken promises, Labour has made the political choice to target family farms, and the consequences will be felt by thousands of farms and families across the country. In Yuan YaYang’s election campaign in July 2024 – she said she wanted to help people with fuel bills and keep homes warm with an insulation plan. What happened: On September 10, 86 days after the election, Yuan Yang, our MP, voted to scrap the pensioner’s winter fuel allowance with Starmer’support. Pensioners expected help with heating costs; they didn’t expect the removal of their winter fuel allowance. Yuan Yang, Starmer and Labour taking money from the vulnerable again!
But let’s try to be fair to the pensioner-robber & killer,
He may have a mental issue with which he’s not acquainted.
Oligarchishness, backhander-addiction, or distempered?
Cognisance Impairment makes your brain shackled, 
Getting caught lying may have been upsetting?
A mental illness? I’I’veot 3, most maddening,
He constantly shows a poker face… emotionless.
I’d like to help him: my mate’s an acupuncturist?
He walks with a limp, so may he have gout?
He never listens to advice. Does he need an audiologist?
Is he demon-possessed, in need of a psychiatrist?
To help him to keep his promises & guarantees,
That psychiatrist failed; he needs to be ditched!
MPs sit away from Keir in Parliament; have you noticed?

This was advised to them by StStarmer’sastrologist,
Bet he has a neurologist, & a neuroradiologist, 
I manage with my GP, last seen on October 5,
I’ll see her again before I die; I’m an optimist…
Although I may be a little over-ambitious,
It’s bout 10 weeks to see my Neurosurgeons,
Have I enough to backhand them…
 To make Doreen Dementa scram?
Just in case you read this, Starmer…
And I die under the knife and hammer…
I’m no liar, and I can assure you, Starmer…
I’I’lle your spiritual habituér,
I’I’llring a bottle of the black death…
To sneeze & spill all over you!
So please don’t die before you are due…
I want my revenge; it’ll be long overdue!
Did I mention my hatred for Starmer? ThThis’sy pi
rlicue.
I FANK YOU!
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TERRIBLE NIGHT – CONFUSING MORNING
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Another Sleepless Night. It has to stop!

Be it Influenza, Norovirus or Stomach Flu, it ain’t nice. I’ve been lucky not to get colds and flu. I’ve had all three jabs. But it’s obviously got me this time. A buildup of phlegm and mucus in the throat and chest. Aches and pains in all my joints. And after several years without as much as a single headache. I’I’vead a cracker for three days now with no relenting. Nausea and talk about stomach rumblings and grumblings… although, to be fair, they are not unusual for me. At least, and last, the altering alternating evacuation modes have all been under Trotsky TeTerence’sontrol since I copped this bug. Constipation Conrad can’t get a look in. Hehe! So, on the bright side, HaHarold’s haemorrhoids are not bleeding anywhere near as badly as they were. I’d like to think the same about Little Inchie Fungal lesion, but the Cather tube is giving me pain more than ever now. I must bend down to release the catheter day bag clip and empty it every time. Then, of course, today, the right testicle is growing again for some reason. It might be on its way to matching last year’s spanish-onion-sized. Tender!

Then there’s Pensioner-Killer-Starmer. How the hell has he not been dethroned, prosecuted or assassinated? Even the Tories said they would keep the winter fuel aid. And they did! Then came Backhander-taking Keir Starmer, the hater of every voter, proletariat, street sleeper, worker, Farmer and Pensioner.
He is enough to make any mortal sick. 

Anyway, I’d been lying on the bed for six hours, praying to get to sleep. But no! So I got out of bed and into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. I still thought I might yet get some sleep. But No! I was aching all over, inside and out. The blood from the throat, blow my nose, blood on the tissue. Only specs of it, mind you. Then, the odd sneezing bouts started. Now, these were scary. I was still not feeling tired. Worn out, yes!

Grindingly slowly, time moved on. I sat there, with the coughs, sneezes, and painful pouch emptying keeping me company.
Had I not been so weary, I’I’dave gone to get the ablutions done. I thought about it a few times, but my body disagreed. Suddenly, I realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky.
Back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, HarHarold’semorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I think I felt a bit sorry for at this time. 
I had a few rapid . Which threw me off kilter. It was now gone eight o’clock and a Carer been, and I was in a seizure and couldn’t member the visit? I then remembered the surgery ringing me with the new Warfarin dosages last night. So, I wrote them out from the notepad and put them in the CarCarer’sg cover. I checked to see if anyone had filled it in the log. But, no! I settled back down in the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. The aches and pains, not the usual ones, the neck, chest, stomach, & joints got worse. as I sat there awaiting the Carer to call. I anticipated they may be late, but having three staff off poorly makes getting cover from other sites difficult. I added some juice to two bottles of spring water and started gulping it down. I was slowly coming out of the seizure… Or so I thought. But you know how lucky I am. Huh! I put the TV on, hoping it may help me to nod off. But no!

At about 10:00 hrs, there was no Caregiver, so I forced myself to use the computer. Not that my mind was ready or willing to use it. And headaches, especially behind my eyes, returned.

At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the post Haste! So, I did!
Trotsky Terence was still in command, but the colour had changed. It had a distinctive metallic whiff or pong that accompanied the evacuation procedure. And it lingered. I used the fresh air spray.

I returned to the computer; I could not concentrate as I had anticipated. However, I did add a few decent lines to the start of today’s Ode.

At about 10 minutes to 12, Carer Sam arrived. She checked the taps on leaving. The morning carer had not arrived. I made no fuss about it.

I then returned to the computer and surprisingly began to get along well with the Odeing. It was long, and I had to verify everything I mentioned about the murderer ‘He’r Starmer’!

Was joined by , stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. On the bright side, I think the phlegm and sore throat    were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, it made me eat my thoughts and words, and she took over as my Master-Pain-Mangler for the rest of the day, well, evening.  
This got me concerned over the lack of medication available for easing . I’ve mentioned the problem to every Carer since I found out a few days ago. But no one is advising me or informing me. I dipped into a self-centred depression and decided to see if I could try to get some sleep-catching up done. I got down into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, ‘n the TV and eat the meal.

Carer Simon called a little earlier than usual, but he had been drafted in again from his own place of work. I mentioned the shortages of my Angina medications again. I felt sorry for the Carers. With three off work, it’s no wonder they don’t have time to advise or help me. However, putting the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV on was frustrating. Still, I got there in the end… and within a minute, had nodded off into La-La land, and it was great, lovely; after three nights of sleeplessness, minutes later, the water alarm sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!

Sugar & Surreptitious Sodnesses!
I was attacked by two of my beloved ailments at the same instant. (again) & .
That was the end of my memories of the night.

I do recall ordering some cough medicine.

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Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day. Who am I kidding?
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Now I am worried. When I checked this blog, I found 157 errors! I have no doubt I missed some. My eyesight is blurry. How the hell did I do so many things wrong? It might have been unrecognised mini-seizures. It’s not boding well!

Yours, from anxious Inchy!

Inchy: Sat/Sun 18-19th January 2025

– – – Sunday 15:00hrs – – –
On Saturday, I got as far as doing the Ode header below and  kicked off. They came thicker and faster than they ever have before. I could concentrate on nothing, and time lost all meaning. Made worse when joined in, and the rest of the day was lost in more than one way.
I believe I must have had a mammoth seizure in the afternoon. Why? I’ll tell you, well, I’ll try.
I returned to semi-reality and found that the list of words I was to use to use, with hundreds of words on it, had disappeared from the computer. I searched all the Notepad files. Then, I searched everywhere else, thinking I may have saved the update to the wrong folder or file. I stopped to send off the Friday Blog. Then, I decided I’d start a new word list for the rhymes. I spent five hours selecting and saving the words to Notepad or Notes now; I think it may be called.
I got into the hospital bed, then after an hour or so, got up again and went back onto the computer to add to the list. Stooped and got the ablutions & medicationings done.
I worked through it until Carer Shaquille arrived. Then, at about 08:15hrs, I went back to them
.
I stopped when Carer Maryham arrived. I told her about my all-night marathon and showed her I’d lost the word list. I found on WordPress that I’d also lost the template for Sunday!

So, I wrote this script to explain the situation.
I will ask a Carer on Monday to phone the Doctor. I can’t go on like this. Anne Gyna, Siezures Sandra, camera kaputt. I burnt my hand on Saturday on the new oven, and the pain from Catheter Cathy’s contraption tube is so bad that I’ve taken off the protective pants I put on this morning. And it’s so cold today, but I’d sooner have the cold than extra pain. I think.
I’m going to continue making the word list. I will carefully click on ‘save’ regularly. If I feel a seizure coming on, which I sometimes do, I’ll try to stop working immediately.
Then, time permitting, I’ll finish the Government Ode and post this off. It could be near midnight, but I may have problems staying awake to do it.
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They’re all blended now, a political purple…
Labavatives & Conserabours, both in trouble
Their Differences were once clearly distinguishable.
: : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Their ideals previously unalterable,

Now, they seem to be easily adsorbable,
Shared, swapped, most adaptable,
Labour defended the most susceptible,
Which I found to be accreditable, 
Keirs stealing from the pensionable,
Naturally, I felt it was cruel and abominable…
Apprehensible, it should make him arrestable!
Pensioners & farmers, easily fleeceable,
More a Conservative than any Tory, incredible!
As PM, he is no longer creditable,
Taking backhanders, lying; it’s incomprehensible!
He might have a title, but he’s not Honourable,
Labour’s honest values are gone, irretrievable,
Starmer’s actions are unbelievable!
Bent HMG rules mean he’s not convictable,
He’s blind despite his freebies apposable,
To the damage he’s done as our apical.
Ruling his timocracy like a cockwomble,
His lies & fiddles are shown to be confutable,
I hope he’s visited by someone paradisiacal!
Old Father Time, or ran over by a Tournapull,

I’m sorry for being misanthropical,
I find Keir incomprehensible and enigmatical!
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Not feeling too good now.
But so glad I got the ode done. It is not one of my best; it was written with a bit of angst at my stupidity of losing all the work and being unable to calm Ane Gyna down.
Huh! I just wrote this, and she’s slowed down, and each stab of pain seems to be less bothersome than the previous one… at long last. I wish for this and hope.

Sunday night now, and I will get a meal of some sort and do my best to get some much-needed sleep.

I was sitting watching the TV… well, I was initially, but within ten minutes, I was in the land of nod. Carer Carer surprisingly made the last call. I was a bit out of it, mentally. It was so lovely to see her again, but what was said was a jumbled mixture of odd bits that I could remember. I struggled to gear back to the bliss of sleep. No , but I recognised that my own thoughts were about why the gal had to do extra shifts. I presume that Carer Richard is not in a good situation with his diabetic problems and may have knocked off work. If so, he will be suffering at home. He’s been struggling himself lately. I hope he is okay. Also, I hope Carer Joanne is getting better; she was not very well on her last visit the other day. Many people have this cold-weather bug to contend with; Joanne has catheter problems, & her coughing and wheezing concern me. But I was still glad to see Kara again.

Eventually, I got up and made a meal of sorts, fish balls, onions and Milk Roll sliced bread with a BBQ tomato sauce dip. I found approximately 4 empty bags of onion rings, and a Marmite crisps in the wastebasket.

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Bye-for-Now!
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Saturday 11th January 2025

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A FULL BREAKDOWN OF KEIR (Pensioner Killer) STARMER’s £84k OF FREEBIES

Sir Keir and wife Victoria beam after bagging free £4000 Taylor Swift tickets: In summer 2023, Sir Keir was treated to a week in accommodation for four people in beauty spot the Gower Peninsula worth £4,500.

While planning his lies-ridden election triumph in July, Sir Keir welcomed many gifts and hospitality with open arms, including designer clothes, glasses, and tickets to several football matches. Keir and his wife, Ms Reeves and Rayner, also received donations for work outfits. In June, the deputy prime minister, Ms Rayner, received a £3,550 donation for work clothing from Lord Alli. Rachel Reeves £380k freebie and payments as she scrapped pensioners’ Winter Fuel Allowance.

In October 2023 and February 2024, he was given £10,000 and then £6,000 respectively from Lord Alli.

In April, Lord Ali gave Keir £16,200 for ‘Work Clothing’ £16,200.

Sir Keir has also received accommodation worth £20,437 between May 29 before the election and July 13 after the win.

Lord Alli treated Sir Keir’s wife, Victoria, to approximately £5K worth of clothes. The clothes are understood to have been at Lord Alli’s £18 million London penthouse, which would have cost £444 per night if he had stayed there daily.

Accommodation for four on the Gower Peninsula. Set up by Rod Lloyd. Value: £4.400.

Arsenal fan Sir Keir received tickets and hospitality totalling around £19,000 for twelve football matches from August 2023 to June this year, including nine when his beloved London  Arsenal team was playing.

Sir Keir enjoyed a Taylor Swift concert in the Premier League. As for social events, Sir Keir was one of five Labour MPs who declared freebies at Taylor Swift concerts.

The Prime Minister declared the gift of four hospitality tickets from the Premier League to see the Shake It Off singer at Wembley Stadium in June, at an estimated value of £4,000.

Sir Keir also received four tickets to the Jingle Bell Ball with hospitality from Global Media and Entertainment Ltd. last December, worth £800.

In May, the National Theatre treated Keir to four tickets to see Nye worth £358.

The only freebie not accepted was a bottle of Vinegar from Nottingham blogger Inchy. Rejected when it was discovered it contained arsenic. Value: 49p

Sir Keir’s Football Freebies Since August 2023:

Crystal Palace Football Club – Three tickets with hospitality for Crystal Palace v Arsenal, valued at £2,142

Swansea City AFC – Five tickets with hospitality for Swansea City v Bournemouth, valued at £800

Cain International UK Services Ltd – Two tickets with hospitality to the Chelsea vs Arsenal football match, valued at £2,400

Teescraft Engineering Ltd – Four tickets with hospitality for Newcastle United v Arsenal, valued at £1,000

West Ham United Football Club – Two tickets for pre-match hospitality in the Chairperson Lounge and to the match, valued at £2,000 (estimated)

Norwich City Football Club – Four match tickets and hospitality, valued at £820

Premier League – Five tickets with hospitality to Arsenal vs Porto, value £3,000

Manchester City Football Club – Hospitality and match tickets for two people to Man City vs Arsenal, valued at £900. 

Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club, four tickets and hospitality to Brighton vs Arsenal, valued at £500.

Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club – Four tickets and hospitality to Arsenal vs Wolverhampton Wanderers value £1,488 (approximate)

Tottenham Hotspur Ltd – Five tickets and hospitality to Tottenham Hotspur vs Arsenal, value £2,500 (approx).

Manchester United: Two tickets in the Directors Box, with dining at Old Trafford. v Arsenal. Valued at £1800.

The only freebie rejected was a bottle of Vinegar offered by blogger Inchy. It was found to contain arsenic. Value 39p

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TO BE OR NOT TO BE…
To be or not to be beheaded…
Be hung, poisoned or electrocuted,
Shot, walk the plank or be guillotined,
For you have killed, murdered…
The UK death penalty was abolished,
Life sentence, murderers are pleased,
After 3 years, many have been released,
Now, HMP workers are beleaguered,
Freeing killers just to save money,
I know it will lead to anarchy,
Murderers are just let free early,
To kill again, by HMG; approvingly!
They’ve tried things, therapeutically,
Chop off rapist choppers antiseptically,
Else, there’ll be disorder, catastrophe,
Pandemonium, bedlam, antipathy,
Course, this is only advisory…
Could we start with someone miserly?
By winter’s end, he’ll have killed so many,
I refer, to Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer,
Who I hear wears a willie-warmer…
Keir will have murdered many a pensioner,
By the end of this freezing winter,
Drove to suicide many a farmer,
His defence? He’s caught habromania?
The man’s a shyster, & a proven liar,
I’m sorry if I sound like an inveigher,
We must get rid of this political vulture,
If we don’t stop him, he’ll kill more for sure,
I advise him to wear his Kevlar!
I’m a bit of transcendental augurer,

But indications of the future for Starmer,
It is vague & as confusing as Keir’s hylomania, 
It’s hard to read such a hornswoggler…
I’ve been depressed so heretofore,
Suddenly, I want to live longer…
Long enough to see him go to the hereafter!
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I returned to an imitation, pseudo-pretend life at 04:00hrs, with the regular springing awake and waiting for Diabetic Doreen to sort out my cerebrum and get that to work in a guise or manner that would allow me to realise that it was really 04:00hrs and work out what day it was. Then, I tackled the nocturnal catheter pouch disconnecting. Which was a more straightforward job this morning. Since I’d drifted off to sleep in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner last night, and didn’t make it to the bed. Carer Chris, who did the last call last night. Christ got the large quilt from the bed and over me. He knew I would never get to the bed, he said, this morning. Apparently, I was in a seizure when he arrived. I was muttering, struggling to get words out, and not really with it. The lad’s reading me now that he knows about my ailments and how they sometimes affect me.

I grabbed and limped into the kitchen, with a sudden feeling from my EQ that I may have left the taps running, the fridge or freezer door open, or the oven on last night in my overtired slumber. EQ is rarely wrong. Sadly, he wasn’t this morning, either. Getting into that kitchen gave me more than one surprise this morning. First, the windows had iced up, the temperature was -5°c, and the freezer door had, as I feared, been left open! 
I had to throw away some of the partially defrosted food. On the bright side, less food went into the bin than when I left the freezer door ajar last time. (Two days ago) Tsk!
For the outside of the window glass, I got some paper towelling and wiped it to see through it. And there, even for my eyes to see, high in the sky, was the Moon and two planets in view, Jupiter and Venus, if I remember correctly. Despite the freezing ice on my hands and in the air, I decided to get the Kodak to try and get a decent shot of the Moon and planets. These are the best of them to make it to the SD card. Four did not? I still can’t determine what I’m doing wrong to make so many photographs disappear.  
I looked into the internal photos on the camera, but they were not there.
I could see the planets in every shot I took; I had my reading glasses on to see the screen on the Kodak camera.
However, some, like the SD card, did not reach the end product again. Yet some did, turning up on the SD card. Was it instilled and installed by the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which I’m already battling with Diabetic Doreen Dementia and Cogniscent Impairment Iris, to keep my marbles? Unglesitknangles!

I meandered to the wet room, returned to make sure I’d shut the freezer door after cleaning up, returned to the wet room, and deposited myself on the WC. Where I stayed for a while. Because an “It’ll come anytime now” type of sensation lingered for ages. All I managed to clear was several incontrollable blasts of wind. So, I gave up, despite that nagging doubt that it just may spurt of its own accord remained with me. I had a wash & shave, medicated various body parts in need, got fresh PPs on, and made up the waste bags. (The photo didn’t show on the SD card – Humph!)

Whatever happened to the day? Where did it go? I recall Carer Joanne coming, and we were having a laugh.
I know I had just a few of
earlier, I thought I was in one when Joanne was here
. But she said nothing. When we were both laughing at my struggle to get words out and forgetting what I was talking about, as we joked and laughed, I’m sure of it. Well…
Later, while taking a break from the arduosity of getting the blog done, I checked the camera and a photo I knew nothing about until I viewed it, and it came back to me. Anyway, here it is.
The frost and ice are still there, and at 1°c, I’m not surprised.
The balcony door cracked as the ice fell off. Not looking too good.

I made a JS order for next week. Tried to keep it low, but as usual, I had to go over the £40 limit in case they had something out of stock. That puts me in line for a delivery charge.

Back on the blog, I realised that they were coming thick and fast. Some seemed to last only a few seconds, and I felt giddiness a few times between each one. But I coped with them in the morning without any real bother, which I find positive. When they first started hitting me, they fritted and unsettled me. Now, this change is getting me a smidge worried. I’ll phone 111 in the morning, no, on Monday, and ask for advice.

On a more positive note, tonight, my urine is a much better, lighter colour. It still stinks, though. I must get on with the blog. I’m taking too long on the odes or making them too long. Even two days ago, I worked on one until three in the morning. I can’t help it. I love doing them. Sad, because they’re not good.

The sun did come out today, as it was about to disappear over the horizon. The frost is now mostly melted, but not in the areas the sun did not reach.
I thought at first that they looked like snow clouds. When Carer Chris came, I heated a steak pastie, told him it would soon snow, and showed him this picture of the clouds. He looked at his computer on his phone, and the weather forecast didn’t mention snow. So much for my humble and wrong predictions. Hahaha! 

I continued with this blog. Amazingly,
gave me rest after Chris had been and medicated me, had his nibble and a can of pop. It took him about ten seconds to see off the steak pastie. It was unexpected to him, and he enjoyed it so much. Which cheered me up, too. 

I was not doing very well in the concentration stakes, then, aha, another summoning from the innards arrived; 
Get yourself to the wet room post haste! So I did just that. But it was all in vain again! I must have spent another half-hour on the Throne. Grunting as I tried my bestest to urge and encourage something to move… But no! For the second time today, Zilch moved. I’m hoping that by taking a prescription powder immediately, I shall have a third visit, which might be a success. Otherwise, especially after eating my meal later on, my innards may just blow up or explode!

I’m getting beyond the capability of concentration now. I shall maketh a meal. Blimey, the higher clouds have changed so much now. Still beautiful.

Meatless pork sausages, chestnuts, and tomatoes. Six slices of Milk Roll bread, one for each sausage, and a dip of BBQ Tomato ketchup. Two desserts: Lemon and custard and jelly.

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BONUS STARMER BASHING ODE!
Don’t let Starmer get you depressed,
Despite pensioners he attacked,
In free-clothes, he gets dressed,
And the lies that he’s amassed,
Starmer, being a backhander & biased…
The farmers he has tax-bushwhacked,
As PM, he should be uninstalled,
The man is totally unscrupl
ed,
The Torie are beyond being annealed,
Leaving Starmer with an open field…
To do as he likes, unimpeded,
At no.10, he’s firmly bivouacked,
His lies & gift-taking have been obsignated,
Surely he must now be prescited?
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Farewell, & Look after Yourself.
If farmer or pensioner cause…
STARMER WON’T!

Fiddlededee Inchy: Sunday 29th December 2024

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INCHY’S SPORTING FAILURES
Football for Oil Drum Lane Athletic,
They soon discovered I was pathetic…
I’d like to have tried something aquabatic,
But if I go near water, I panic,
Whist; for my partners, this was tragic!
They threw me out, but I was apologetic,
Weight lifting? 1st session, I looked cadaveric!
Angling Club had no wins, but I was the bus comic,
Darts, I played better, avoiding the gin & tonic,
Mt teammates christened me ‘The Dipshit’!
At that, I found I was even more chronic!
Now, at squash, I was doing well, almost dynamic,
Of course, I didn’t win any games, dammit!
Archery, not strong enough or ergonomic…
Parachuting, I did one; it was too frenetic!
Bungee Jumping, I did one, and it was fantastic!
Second go, that was something of a classic,
I ended up in the hospital when the platform split,
Gave me a skrik, it left me spasmatic,
On a machine, I think it was electrotherapeutic,
On to my time being sportingly pugilistic,
I may have been nervous, but I went ballistic…
I was too small. That was my sitch…
The first punch I took, I was kayoed out of it!
The reasons above for this ode reading are so threnodic!
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Yet again, it was a night of broken sleep. A little different, though, this time. The usual trend lately is for me to wake with a jump or jerk, as if someone had prodded me awake. Most of Saturday night’s last night’s disturbances were almost calm and serene. But there were far more of them this time. I was having the odd mini-seizure now and then, most times after waking. Working out the time was surprisingly difficult… did you ask why? Then I’ll tell yers. I first went into the land of bliss as I was watching TV, and… unbeknownst to me, I moved into the hospital bed. When I decided to get up, I wondered what the heck was happening. (Thinking that I was in the recliner) I looked at the clock and saw the wall about 4 inches from my nose! Hehehe!
I tried to stand up to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch off. For a few moments, I was baffled by the situation. As I turned and hit my head on the anti-fall bar, I realised where I was and could not find the clock.

Extracting my flabby body from the bed went great! Because both Cartilage Chloe and Carole were painless. Arthur Itis’s stiffness was letting me know about it. Once I sat on the side of the bed, I checked the clock; it was 05:10hrs. I got the bag off of the catheter. There was not much urine in it, and it was of a top-rating colour on the card.

I wanted a mug of tea, so I went into the kitchen, checked taps, etc. and took two photos of the morning view, and it was fogless for the first time in three days.
So, the pictures looked semi-decent compared to the foggy ones taken over the last few days. I decided the next job would be to get the done.

I utilised the Porcelain Throne first… well, I meant to. But Constipation Conrad prevented any motions from starting.
I realised I’d not got the tackle needed. So I fetched the bath towel and Kagoule, Kaftan, Thobe, Longshirt, or whatever you call it, from the hallway. Returned to the wet room, and showered, and shaved.
Apart from a little difficulty getting the fresh Protection Pants on, all went so well that I thought it might be a last treat from the almighty before the Grim Reaper arrives. Haha! 
Also, it took only 1 hour 30 minutes from start to finish!

!
All fresh, clean, and in a good mood, given how well the ablutions had gone, I went to the kitchen to make the mug of Glengettie that I’d failed to make earlier. I got the kettle on again… The innards warned me to get back to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So, I did… I cannot believe how things changed so much. At the first sitting, nothing would move, and as seen, I blamed Constipation Conrad.
But it was a performance this time. I have never been so close to a voluntary evacuation before without it happening!
So I think I had a bit of luck there, really.

I got the tea made and reset the retro 1970s-style clock calendar. Then I got on the computer. Ten minutes later, I fumbled  back as fast as possible to get to the Porcelain Throne again! Yet again, apart from Starmer, someone must have been watching over me. Because it was as close a job to things escaping as it was on the second visit! Phew! Can this good fortune last? Is it a trick by the devil to make me relax and get caught out on the next visit? I expect to have a few more yet. The innards started slowly churning again no sooner than when I sat back down on the computer. I’ll avoid starting to feel optimistic about the situation. My belief that things will finally turn around, only for another adverse event to happen, reinforces the idea that my bad luck is persistent.  Well, it is! Tsk!

Carer Kimberly arrived; I’ve not started on any blog work yet. I forgot to ask her to put my diabetic socks on for me. What a turd I am! Sometimes, the Carers remember, but not today. Not that I blame them. Just wish I could remember to ask.

When Kimberly left, I thought about what to have for nosh tonight. I had a look at the food available in the kitchen, fridge, cupboards and freezer
I put some spuds into the slow cooker. Then, what did I do after seeing the morning view getting more blue? I took a photo; in fact, I took two. I’ll blow this second one up.
Can you tell what the things in the sky are? None in the first shot, just the close-up one? Thanks!
Of course, it could be some gunk on the lens? I’ll see what the next one looks like.
I’ll have some Golonkowa later on the meal. I love pork knuckle. This Polish can of it usually have plenty of pork jelly included. Very nice! I’ve got the memory of the taste coming back now.

I was tempted to nibble at the LU Cookies, my new favourite biscuit nowadays. If I open the packet, I may be tempted to eat a few, spoiling the dinner later. So, I resisted the temptation. It’s easy when you are as determined as I am to do the right thing. Alright, I only ate
two of them! .

The blog work is getting slower and slower and becoming more mistake-ridden. I am determined to get it together and to concentrate. Then Carer Selina arrived. I’ve not seen her for weeks. She has been off for a while with a broken foot! I forgot to ask her to put the socks on again. We were having a little natter… I went into what (Selina thinks were two) mid-conversation.This time, it seemed I just looked like I’d fallen asleep, but I was muttering. I can recall nothing of it while I was out of it. Then, according to Selina, I started carrying on from our conversation… after a few words, I drifted off again. I think it was good that someone had seen it as it happened. But she said it frit her a bit.

After she left, blurred my vision, and I had to give up on the blog. I’m unsure if it was in the report, as I couldn’t read the writing. Not that anyone reads them.

I think I took this photo earlier in the day. But midst the seizures, I managed to miss it off then. I do that a lot, you know… miss things off.
These I took when I went to the fifth mug of tea of the day. I did manage to drink one of them… I think I did. I’m all over the place mentally now.
Ah, I just saw the circle I put on this one on the left. Same snap as the one on the right above. I’ve blown it up. I’m hoping that someone can determine what it is. Well, I know not what it is. Is it a bird? Is it an alien? Is it an Angel? Or is another freebie donation being delivered to Starmer as a backhander?

A Day of Mysteries, Today.

Ah, well, I’ll get summat to eat then.
Golonkowa, pickled beetroot & water chestnuts, cheesy no-butter, buttered bread rolls, and some tasteless potatoes that need the sauce to flavour them. The biggest disappointment? The crap, bland, going soft tomatoes!
But I ate it all… bar some of the spuds.

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Have a Fantastic Day!
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Debtee Inchy: Saturday 28th December 2024

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I met a lassie in Aberdeenshire,
She offered me a cuppa, & romance with tincture,
She was married but delightfully, an advoutrer,
We blended into one sort of amalgamator,
We mangled certain limbs in particular…
We ended up boozier and bouncier,
I hope to see her again later…
I found Aberdeenshire to be boshter!

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Yet another horrible night’s sleep. Forever waking up with jerk or jump, and this wrangled me last night.
At 0440 hrs, I most unwillingly climbed onto the side of the hospital bed and removed the Nocturnal Night Pouch. I had given the urine a too-low rating, so I must change that on the NHS card later; Carer Chris said it was a six. I keep forgetting to change it.

I gathered the waste bin bags into one and left it near the door to take to the rubbish bin later.
Went to the kitchenette to check the tops, taps, stove, and doors.
On that short little hobble, Dizzy Dennis nearly caught me out; luckily, I’d got with me and avoided going over.

I arrived in the kitchen, I performed the safety checks. Nothing was out of place, left open, or running.
The fog outside still looked thick. But maybe a little less than yesterday’s did. I thought that his shot had an eerie aspect to it. I m
ade a brew of 99 tea and got the computer booted up. I seemed to be doing well this morning. Only Dizzy Dennis, Cartilage Chloe, and Arthur Itis have been any bother up to now. Then, a summons ensued from my innards, warning me to urgently attend the Porcelain Throne.
A splurty, messy, smelly, and gooey dollop of excrement splodged into the ceramics. It took a while for me to get cleaned up. I mean for both the WC and me. Hehe!

I went to empty the urine from the day catheter pouch, and for the love of me, I could not get it to flow out. The thinnest, slowest, barely a trickle did flow. I tried to encourage things along. Jiggled and juggled the day bag, pulled it up, twisted it around the leg, and then lowered it…  which brought on Dizzy Dennis again, and I had to give it a rest for a minute or so. I tried squeezing the transfer tube, twisting the plastic bag, and even praying, but to no avail.

I was on the computer. Something was playing up again with the text writing, and I was unsure what I’d done on Friday to prevent it from acting up again. After I pondered what I could do to correct the situation, Carer Maryham arrived. 

I told her about the wee-wee being so reluctant. “Drink more water!” So I did. I also mentioned that I had only two nocturnal catheter pouches left. I didn’t think anyone would be working on a Saturday. Maryhan helped me find the telephone number for City Care on the computer, Bless Her! I was in a bit of a panic now, but I realised I’d got the days mixed up. IF… I can get through, and IF I can hear the voice on the other end on Monday, the situation may be saved… (or not)thanks, Maryham! ♥ She rushed off, taking the waste bags with her, so kind.

I kept on the computer and taking the water, but it was still a trickle at best. I went through the same procedures as before, and it didn’t get any slower, but the flow did not increase.

Drinking and blogging away, and a text message came on my super-modern mobile Nokia phone. A message told me my food order would arrive today within two hours. That will be the food order I’d just told Maryham was due next Tuesday… I assume. Erm?

CorelDraw was playing up now! About an hour later, during which I got nothing achieved on the blog, the intercom chimed in. I was the food order arriving. The driver placed them in the mini-hallway for me, I thanked him, and he asked if I was over 21. I said I’ve not ordered any alcohol, only soft drinks and water? We both laughed, which was nice! Four bags worth. I carried them one by one into the kitchenette. I seem to have treated myself to more fish balls, fishcakes and fish fingers, too! Oh, and a bag of potato croquettes. I got the frozen put away first. Once again, I had to take the fish balls out of both boxes and jiggle with the food in the freezer to get them in.
It also took a bit of planning to get things in the fridge—not
that I had a lot of stuff. I can’t recall ordering some of the items, but I did no fear dying from hunger.
That must be heartbreaking news for Pensioner killer Sir Keir Rodney Starmer. Rodney, as Del used to say… “You Plonker Rodney!” In the fictitious Trotter family.
Har-har-har!  

Afternoon Carer Joanne came, and she was very welcome. I showed her the photo of the last pouch emptying. Can you see the fluff-looking clump that came out after I rejiggled the bag and tube again? I expected the flow to be freer on the next emptying, but no! The flow is still about the width of the darning-needle-eye… at best! I have to bend to encourage it, which merely invites the attention of and  has joined in the assault! Joanne is having trouble with her catheter, so we have that in common and things were not going right for either of us.
We shared a chunter. Hahaha!

I was not getting on well with the blog. After Joanne departed, I sulked a little and returned to the computer. I found some of the same types of
They were expensive but had no drainage pipe fitted and were half the price of the others. I ordered some, but they will not arrive before Tuesday, so I’ll not be able to wait until then. All the more important thing is to get in touch with City Care – Option Three on Monday. There may not be a blog on Monday cause I shall keep on trying to get through, and if they say you are the 19th customer in the queue, I’ll stay online and wait. Although knowing my luck, I’ll fall asleep or have a seizure and not recall what I was ringing for! I feel a depression coming on!

I had another go at the blogging. And the landline chirped! It was a lady from the Social Services. The line was terrible. This reminded me that the hearing aids still need sorting out, repaired, and mended. And how do I get a lift there and back? Anyway, she asked if I had time for a Q&A session. I hadn’t really got the time. But this rare, almost unheard-of opportunity to tell someone my problems could not be missed. It was hard work, and the lady shouted some questions after I’d asked her to repeat herself a few times. I mentioned the problems with the ablutions, the hearing aids getting repaired, shopping, the bank, etc. Of course, when she rang off, I thought of so many other things I struggle to get done, but it’s too late now.

She kindly said she would ring me back to update me on any plans made or altered. ♥

I got some potatoes in the slow cooker. Hopefully, I can have it later with cheese. But we’ll see, it’s getting late now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the crushed cream cakes delivered earlier. Most dissapointing. It looked like finger marks on the icing and cream. The cream had left the bread altogether. Maybe not so bad. I’m going to chew them up anyway. Hehe!

Gotten Himmel!
I went into the kitchen to see how the potatoes were coming along, and the fog was gone—there was just a light mist in the air! So, I took a left, centre and right shots of the view.
The Carer may arrive soon. I’ll now go and get the oven warming up and try to get the cheese into the flesh of the potatoes. I’ve not had any of these for months now. Lack of injuries permitting, of course. Or seizures, tumbles, falls, walking into things… take your pick.

Chris made his last call around 0920hrs. The lad was rushing to go home, and he looked all in. However, he kept his chirpiness up and made sure Chris took the diabetic socks off, and he attached the next-to-last nocturnal catheter pouch we had. Gave the cream cake treats, and off he poddled. A nice lad.

Nosh started. Cheesy potatoes, fish balls, and garden peas.
Nothing else was needed!
This was the first proper cheesy potato dish I’ve made since the old oven conked out. I used the new mini-cooker, which was great because it was on top of the old cooker. I could check the crisping colouring at eye level as it cooked to ensure it was spot-on. I so enjoyed this one. It was worth all the time, bother and cleaning up afterwards! Great!
The cod balls I did in the air-fryer. I’ve not yet mastered this air fryer. But I’m slowly getting better.
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Attritee Inchy: Fri 27 Dec 2024

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With intruders in my brain, eyedrops in my eyes…
No hair needs to be permed, washed or blow-dried,

Medications to take, ointments to apply,
Catheter to change… pains that I can’t nullify,
Toothache, Arthur Itis, I get by, by and by,
It’s my brain I need to reclaim, defunkify…

Doreen Dementia, & Cognitive Impairment Iris,
Of my ailments, they are the awesomest,
Now, I don’t want to seem an alarmist…
They rule the brain with brazen audaciousness,
No help from my doctor or psychiatrist,
Maybe I should try an acupuncturist?

I put up with them, I think, admirably?
Despite their internal argie-bargie,
They confuse me with anything arithmaticy,
Twist matters logical and practical & my memory,
It’s impossible to converse with them amiably,
Mostly, they come over antagonistically!

They are in my brain, so no problems audiologically,
They are dictators rather than supervisees,
My reactions can be tenuously or timorously,
My uncertainty, they always guarantee…
Acting vexatiously, viciously, always victoriously,
To a degree, I admire their wizardly!

My brain makes me a perfect accommodationist,
I’m an easy target, being an anthropomorphist…
Seizures installed by these anaesthesiologists?
On the one hand, they are undoubtedly abstrucities,
They’ve made my brain an acropolis…
So, I struggle at times to gain access!

Their actions mostly, I fail to comprehend,
Obviously, my IQ became overburdened…
But my EQ has never wavered or stuttered,
I don’t know which side my bread is buttered,
So, common sense, I’ve had to suspend,
I admit to feeling a smidge frightened!

Each of them is a cerebrum adulterator,
Assured of brain-installing habromania,
How to get help? An astrologer, an auger?
Will I still them in Hell hereinafter?
Is it possible at all to find an ameliorator?
They’ve beaten the best, such as Maggie Thatcher!
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A restless waking up far too often sleep. 0425hrs: Gave up and got up from 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. I didn’t make it to bed last night. I was trying to stay awake to watch the football. Then, naturally, as I started to watch the TV, I fell asleep, waking up with the jump and tweaking away. But could I get back to sleep? I only stayed that way for minutes, banging away again. Occasionally joined in. This repeated until I resigned myself to surrendering and getting up. Marvellous, one tries to stay awake so as not to miss the footy, but that comes on, and I fall asleep. I miss the football, and then I can’t get back to sleep! Humph!

I was pleased with the colour of the urine this morning. Carer Chris gave it a Five from the NHS colour chart. Best morning shade for weeks.

I went into the kitchen to check the taps and saw the fog again. It was even thicker than it was yesterday. I could barely discern the lights. I assume there were some out there? I took a second shot of the view in a different photo mode. This time, I could make out some vague bits of green that must be trees?

I did the Blood Pressure on the Sphygmomanometer. It came out just inside the ‘Hyper range’; it was not high enough to cause me any concern.

I sorted all four of the waste bin bags into one. And took them to the front door. I am hoping a Carer will take them to the chute for me. I would have taken it, but with the kitchen thermometer only reading 40°F, it was just a smidgeon too cold to risk going out there yet. Haha! 

I refilled the Nurse’s & Carer’s nibble box on their table. Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose. 
Although not as big or painful as yesterday’s monster passing, it was still enough to bring water to my eyes. Hehehe! One good thing about Constipation Conrad’s evacuation is that it leads to fewer premature escapages than Trotsky Terence’s.

At long last. I made a brew of 99 tea, got on the computer and changed the date on my almost historical clock calendar. Then .
The text writing on WordPress suddenly stopped me from moving about the mouse without outlining all the text. It was impossible to write anything. I tried doing text in CorelDraw, then MS Word, with the same results.
I closed down WordPress and CorelDraw, and then a screen appeared with Prosessers in the use list, which had hundreds of items on the list. I had no idea what was causing or what this was all about. 

Carer Christopher arrived as I tried to sort things out and what to try or do about it. He issued the medications. Then, he changed the Catheter Contraption for me; lastly, he got the diabetic socks onto my legs. (Lovely & warm, now!)

I tried to remember what had gone off with the computer.
The screen with the listing has a Stop Process button, which was no longer highlighted. So, I closed the window and tried writing again after reopening CorelDraw and WordPress, and it worked. I can’t cope with technology! 
Still, it allowed me to finish yesterday’s blog and post it.

I had started on the photographs for this blog. And a swarth of came over me for about an hour. Somehow, it seems that I kept on typing away through them all. When I partially regained my faculties, I found a mess grammatically and one paragraph that did not mean anything to me, all gobble-di-gook!
Sorting them out took me more than another hour, and even then, I made and found more errors. I wanted to try to make time to read January’s templates. I hope I can get this done; having them ready to use on file does save time each day. Boy, the time is flying.

Carer Joanne arrived. We had a natter, and she related her holiday mishaps. Bless her 🧡. It sounded like I was listening to myself. Haha! I do like that gal.

After some more work on the blog after Joanne had gone, I decided to try to get the templates made up. With hope in my heart and crossed fingers. (I do not really cross my fingers; Arthur Itis no longer allows me to cross my fingers. Although Colin Cramps often bends and twists them when I don’t want them to be like that!) I’ve dropped many things over the years thanks to Colin & Arthur Itis.
Here goes: I’m continuing with the template work, which I expect to take 2½ hours, the same as last month. It is now 1230 hrs. See if I get them done, and remember to check how long it takes me this time. I hope the computer & CorelDraw do not play up again.

God Heavens: I’ve just finished, and it is 1630hrs! Took me a lot longer this time. I said I was struggling to get things done, but I didn’t think this would take me that long. Again, correcting mistakes, those that I noticed cost me a lot of time. Made a brew of Glengettie to celebrate.

Fish balls in batter, pickled beetroot, onions, green tomatoes, carrots & home-pickled water chestnuts.
Very nice!
The landline chimed. It was the Doctor’s receptionist. The DVT Warfarin blood test showed a low INR count, so she gave me a new dosage: 1½ Warfarin tablets each night. Even I should remember that.

Being unsure of myself, I rechecked the templates. I took this shot through the balcony door, and only the fog was seeable. It felt dreary and cold. I checked the kitchen thermometer, and it was showing only 35.6°F. 
Carer Chris just arrived after I’d written his name. Haha!
Meds were issued, and he told me that I’d not put any granules or wash-pods in the laundry he took this morning. Thankfully, I remembered to ask Christopher to put the socks on me. He took them with him as he left.

Going to go on WP Reader before I fall to sleep. Fall to sleep… me!

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Cheery-Bye!

Puddled Inchy: Thursday 26th December 2024

STARMERS FUTURE
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On the humorous side…
I’m not in control nowadays, just a minimum,
Vascular Diabetic Doreen is tinkling with my cerebrum,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids controlling my bleeding bum,
Bleeding from cracked teeth, lips and gum,
Seizures leave me lost and numb,
Uneducated… what’s a quasi-isomorphism?
Between me then and now lies an impassable chasm,
I’ve lost my freedom, thus enthusiasm
But I’m still moderately skilled in sarcasm,
I was fully committed to activism…
I could do it now on a good day, but they’re seldom,
I’m still well-known for my altruism,
Gone are my days of professionalism…
Doing my ablutions? Best described as gruesome,
I fought and beat off alcoholism!
But struggle to free myself from fatalism,
Dictatorship, Communism or Capitalism?
All addicted to despotism and materialism,
Oligarchal, favouritism, federalism, feudalism,
Earthlings will never adopt pacifism…
I view hope for this earth with scepticism,
Why do I bother? I must be dumb,
No wonder I’m feeling so glum,
Will St Peter do humankind’s postmortem?
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0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. I felt much better than I did on yesterday’s rebirth into the torture of another day in my Nottingham-located Cell 72… no, flat, flat 72! My balance seemed much better, too!
I pondered on what the day may hold for me. It was a scary moment as my confidentless mind mused merrily over various possibilities and what mode of Accidauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
I got my slippers on (painfully) and meandered to the kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge.
I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
Which expletive should I use? To reveal exactly how I felt at that moment. Disappointment, self-loathing, frustration, irritation, disquietude, perturbation, self-condemnation, self-commination, blameworthiness or guilt?
I suppose any one or all of them. I chuntered away, swearing silently, lambasting myself.
My spirits took another dip when I found that most of the frozen food was no longer frozen, and a puddle had poured out onto the kitchen floor that I had not noticed and had walked all over the kitchen floor.

Mopping up while using a walking stick is not one of the most straightforward jobs. But I cheerfully spent over an hour whistling and singing as I mopped it up.

A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.

Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.

Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!

After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated.
But no! Another reversal in controller this time. Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further!
I got the crossword book to help kill the waiting time but couldn’t resolve any clues. A while later, the monster moved. Gawd, it was a whopper! It must have taken a full minute to complete its escape. Massive it was! 
There was a tiny bit of bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I cleaned up and medicated. Naturally, the mug of tea had gone cold again.

So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.

I did the morning BP test earlier, which produced the following results. SYS 151 DIA 70 Pulse 72, Temp 34.8 Level: HYPER
I did the evening check earlier than usual. SYS 144 DIA 68 Pulse 74, Temp 34.7 Level: Normal High, better!

I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
No trapped fingers this time!

Carer Sham called. I hadn’t seen her for months, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be here (which was natural). But I managed to make her smile once. She was treated as all Carers were at Christmas. She left smilingly anyway. 

What An Amazing Session This Was!
Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one!
Then, I did the teggies and nasal spraying.
Before moving on to the joy of a good shower, I had to remove the muslin day catheter bag cover from the pouch and leg. 2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
No Dizzies with the bending down, 3 no knocking anything off the floor cabinet, 4 no bruises or cuts. 5 No tearing of the mesh. or accidents with the release valve. Brilliant!
Fair enough, I did tug at the tube stuck in Little Inchie, which caused me some pain… But 7, no bleeding!
I even adjusted the top two straps without causing any pain or harm. 8. Then, turn the shower power on in the hallway and collect the towel from the slow heater.
Turned the shower on. Got underneath the showerhead and carbolic soaped my blubbery-bellied body and ultra-thin bony legs and arms for ages. I wallowed in the shower.
I really enjoyed it!
.
Showering was complete, so I set about drying off. First, the catheter contraption. I do that as advised using paper towels, I can’t remember why, but they told me to.
Then, my muscular young torso and bicep-ridden arms and legs.

I won’t bore you with the whole routine. If I did, I might not live long enough to finish it! Hehehe!
The first task was getting the Catheter Contraption back on.
This did not go as easily as taking it off in the first place or anywhere but according to plan. Getting a muslin cover on caused a tear or two while trying to thread the tube and bag through it. . I ended up with , and the
newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled . I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
The other medications went alright. Even stopping the bleeding and ointmentating Little Inchies fungal lesion went okay. Painful, but okay!

1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!


Pigs in blankets, frozen and oven-cooked for 40 minutes. The paper-thin bacon evaporated from the sausage.


They’d left me alone for a time; I’d forgotten about them.

FURRY TWO OF THE WEEK

Dougs furry, Andy.
He’d just got back from the veterinarian.
He’s doing alright. Medication continues.
A characterful cat.

We all love him on WP.

I was weary, closed the computer that I was initially going to go back on, and fell asleep (bliss!) in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue-collecting recliner.
I awoke with Carer Chris’s face in mine and a big smile on his mush, telling me he thought I’d snuffed it. Laughter from both parties. Hehehe!
I tried to stay awake to watch the football on TV, but I fell asleep and woke up in time to catch the ending credits of the film that followed the football. Grrr!
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Croaking Inchy: Wednesday 25th December 2024

Not Starmer, naturally!

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I’m not having any Christmas fare,
I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair,
Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger
It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger,
I feel I’m no longer a belonger…
I was happier when I was boozier,
I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier…
Living life like a boondoggler,
A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger,
Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater,
Mild now, worse as I get older…
Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter,
I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma,
Never wanted excess money or grandeur,
Others notice as you get gimpier,
You may suffer from graphomania,
Ending up a grammaticaster,
I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter,
Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier,
No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter,
Concentration and memory will falter,
You become an easy target for any finagler…
Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter,
My turn to become a contradicter…
It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania,
When it comes to life’s final closure…
Things will be revealed by your claviger…
Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever,
Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever,
To return to earth, you must be a groveller,
And bare-face liar, like Starmer!
And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer!
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Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one!

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The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday.  Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)

I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!

My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think. 
Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two. 

As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time.
I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!

Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.

I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN!
,
It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻

I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door.  I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha! 
I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.

Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night.
I’m sorry I mentioned it now.

When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer. 

Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo.
It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime! 
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I’d better get my Christmas meal started.
Not as good as the criminals’ meal,
But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!

Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding  (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course.
It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

Carer Victor did the last call.

I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs.
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Sayonara