Political Cartoon

Inchy Today: Friday 20th December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
HMG’s Labour are ridden with hebetudinous, 
Backhanded by tailors, clothiers & haberdashers,
Football seats, glasses… there’s no hiatus,
Killing stealing from pensioners, they’re haematophagous
Herr Starmer, who is emotionally listless…
What else can he tax for Christmas?
No doubt, he’s planning more humdingers!
Encouraging pensioners to become homeless?
Heat or eat? Stopping winter fuel help was heinous!
His lying by omission was horrendous…
Farmers, pensioners, left helpless…
As I prewarned, a Labour win will be hazardous,
He’s created a land of worried householders, 
Imbued in depth to the voters, hopelessness,
Revealed his backhander hungriness…
With the compasson of a hypopotamus,
Or scavenging, greedy, hunting hyenas!
Displaying heartlessness and haughtiness,
He’s dangerous; well, certainly not harmless!
To Labour voters, the future seems hopeless,
We must now be weary, scared & hypercautious,
Starmer will always be unsafe and hazardous…
Best see a Doctor, hypnotherapist, or herbalist!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A rundown on the not-so-good things today:
â‘ : l left the hot water tap running… thus there was no hot water to shave or shower.
â‘¡: The nurse didn’t show up.
â‘¢: I took a tumble in the junk room. Thankfully, Carer Joanne was with me and got me up again.
â‘£: Electric Shocking Sherida went for nine hours without bothering me at all. At about 17:00 hours, she kicked off and is still electrocuting me now as I write this.
⑤: The most annoying thing was the Seizure Sandra and, or, the Memory Blanks. These left me wondering where the time went today. What I really did today. I can recall most things, but there were primarily bad things or thingamibobs.
â‘¥: While in a seizure, I assume I’d made an order for Morrisons through Amazon???
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I can remember waking up and looking at the clock. I was a trifle befuddled… it was 08:35hrs. I’d been in the bed for 8 hours, bejesus! I only woke up a few times, five maximum, methinks!
Then I had to access Doreen Dementias’s brain and work out if I was expecting any delivery, medical personnel or other caller. I was pretty sure there was no food arriving. Then I recalled the nurse saying she would call to check on the lesions, pot marks, Eczema & Acne. But which day? I felt sure she would not call early… but she did not appear.

I started the daily drudgery.
.Starting with removing the catheter nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Johanne gave it a 6 on the NHS scale.

I felt a little guilty after discovering that the hot water tap had been left on for all those hours. And did a bit of house… well, flat work. There was no stopping me once I got going…

I moved the prescription medications that had arrived last night into the kitchen near the medicine chest.

I cleaned the parts of the air fryer.
Thought I’d done a decent job. And no spillages or dropping anything… up to now, anyway. I did cut my finger cleaning inside.

The new mini cooker was given the hygiene treatment. The counters, as well. Not that much of them were exposed. Now I have the mini-cooker, mini air fryer, microwave and slow cooker scattered about, filling most of the prep workspace. Tsk! 

I cleared the mess and emptied the waste bags, placing them near the front door to take to the rubbish chute later in the day.

I vaguely remember photographing the morning view from the kitchenette window.
Later, I found that it looked like this on the right. A sort of photo of nothingness? Sad!

But my energy and willpower had not faded yet! Oh, no, I seemed to have the bit between what few teeth I had left!

I tipped spring water into two Schweppes bottles I had been imbibed and added some flavouring and effervescent Paracetomals.
Lemon to one, and orange cordial to the other. Very nice!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and went with it to the computer. I changed the dates on my old-fashioned calendar clock and was about to start on the blogging duties, but I realised that no carer had called yet. This being about 0945hrs. I hoped someone was not ill. 
A little later, Carer Joanne came in. She apologised for being late. But I didn’t mind at all. We had a natter as she fitted me a new Catheter-Day-Bag and mesh cover. Then she removed the socks I’d forgotten to last night and put a loose-fitting pair of short Diabetic ones on for me.

After Joannne departed, I entered a phase of constant Mini-Siezures. I went from feeling rather industrious to a whimpering, concentrationless dumbo. This lasted for hours. Yet I still found when I’d come out of it that I’d finished and posted the blog and made a start on this one?
Hours later, I found an email from my friend and neighbour sent by Jenny ♥. Informing me that the email I’d sent with the link to Friday’s blog I’d mailed was not working. Yes, I’d done it again! Finished the blog but did not post it!!!
That must be the third time I’ve done that this week! I mentioned that I had some food to give away and I’d take them to the laundry room after the nurse called. Jenny kindly rang back, saying she’d come up and collect them for me. Bless her.
It’s lovely having a natter and laugh. Thanks. Jenny!♥

I was feeling more with it again now. 
Then, I got an email from Amazon telling me my order was coming from Morrison’s. And one did! 
How can I make an order, send it off, and not recall making it?.
It was not a big one, granted. The biggest surprise was that I ordered three boxes of x160, 99 tea bags! I am aware I was getting low on these teabags, but what in hell did I buy the other stuff for? I give up
I can’t get any help. Then again, do I deserve any. 
A deeper than usual dawned.
I got the rest of the stuff packed away.
The fridge had so much food in it. And I’m not eating much lately.
I could use the word frustrated. The other words I thought of are better left unspoken at this point.
I hope the cruelly expensive tomatoes I bought will keep fresh enough until I need them. I’ll have some tonight with something or other. Or not.
The black tomatoes are already turning to a brown colour.
Mind you, they do taste delicious. I’ve probably mentioned this before, but they have a flavour almost like eating meat. Gorgeous!

I’ll wait until Christopher’s last call before eating anything. His Christmas present is coming tomorrow, and I’m praying they have it in stock.

Carer Christopher arrived on his next to his last visit. I didn’t mention my cock-up with the ordering food again. Well, he was in a decent mood.

I went on the WP Reader.
Chris arrived for an early last call.
And I got some food made.
Back in the morning. TTFNski.

Good Morning – I have not been to bed yet.
Taking me longer than ever!

NOSH
Tomato sarnies – with No-butter-butter.
Pickled beetroot & mushrooms.
Frankfurters. Marmite Cheese.
Raw Garden Peas.
With a lemon-fool to follow.
NICE!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not feeling too good at the moment, Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, (I think) I’ve pulled the catheter tube, and Little Inchie is sore!    – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

KEEP WELL, MON AMI’s

Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Discussing death is not at all morbid, 
I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’
I didn’t mind there was no altercation, 
Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven!
Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid?
Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid…
Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid!
It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person,
Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration?
Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion?
Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen!
I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion,
Sid: You’re causing me some confusion!
Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion?
Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism,
Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism!
My faith in humankind’s incomprehension…
Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern!
At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum,
Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction,
Sid: But I’ll make this prediction…
Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven…
Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid,
Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid,
Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid!
Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid!
What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening.
The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia.
Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions  . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.

The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?

I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early.
&
It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates.
Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. 
I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit.
I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!

After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!

I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.

I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.

I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling!
When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago.
It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment!
It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding!
Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with.
I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!

The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!

Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥

I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha!
I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin…
Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so!
Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!

Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.

But I can remember making and eating the nosh!
Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added.
Yummy!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN, Everyone!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Chumpier Inchie: Tuesday 17th December 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It may have only been a temporary & transient moment, but when I stirred at 05:20hrs, there was a worrying amount of satisfaction in the air! Verging almost on contentment!
As soon as I knocked the cut thumb against the catheter stopper when releasing it, and blood flowed – so did the depression. All my worries about the chemist, booking problems that need outside help to call the pharmacy, the audio centre, and booking a lift to get the hearing aids amended flowed as well. The reason for this near-waking jollity baffled me at first. Why? Why? Why should it have been there to greet me as I woke up? Why? I was soon back in grumpland & painland.
As the confusion eased. The worry, too, was when I realised the likely answer would be that I’d been dreaming. Not that I could recall any details. But an aura lingering in my grey cells indicated… well, passion! Hehehe!

As I heaved my cumbersome overweight bellied body off of the bed and 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, alarm bells rang (pain) from Little Inches Fungal Lesion and poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I could feel the fresh-cracked, previously dried blood trickling free from those areas. I hobbled to the wet room to investigate. Not liking what I discovered.
I cleaned up the rear end and groin and got the ablutions tended to before attempting any medications. The shave produced far too many cuts; I may have had a mini-seizure while shaving… but I’m not sure. Am I ever?

All I know for sure is that after finishing the razor work, I had a bloody lip, nose, and neck (four cuts at the back!), and I’d somehow got another cut under the thumbnail to add to the one where I stabbed the end of the bead knife under the nail yesterday! Still, the Brut aftershave soon stemmed the flowing red stuff.
Oh, and it stung a bit! Hey-Ho!

The pain from getting Little Inchies Fungal Lesion done first only deserves one word… ARRGH! Ear holes are olive-oiled, and the eye drops and spraying were sorted. As for the Nurse told me to use the Barrier Cream on Harrold’s Haemorrhoids, well, not after last night’s agony, mate! I went back on the Germolois ointment, which was a blessed relief! Almost instant as I applied it. Costly, though! I used my small picker-upperer to apply the cream to the ulcer and Renaud-Ridden Toes. I also sprayed some Dettol on the ankle ulcers and Germolene on the cracked lips and nose. The tiny split in the thumbnail edge. Getting my dangling man breasts and back medicated was not so easy; I couldn’t reach where I needed to be. I’ve got a fair girth amidships! (Later on, Carer Chloe applied it for me, thank you, Chloe ♥)

Getting the Protection Pants on this morning took me much longer than my recorded time of 11 minutes. However, on the bright side of things, albeit a marathon session (Honestly!), there was no bleeding whatsoever… I’d like to say that again, please… There was no bleeding whatsoever! .

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and got the 1970’s manual clock adjusted to today’s numbers. The care did it again and made the right side of the photo look ultra bright? I wish I knew what I was doing wrong! Well, I stabbed myself again! I went to put the mushrooms in the slow cooker to pickle them tonight. And… for the third time on the trot of using the sharp pointy knife, I stabbed myself in my hand. I must stop!

I returned to the kitchenette, as the 99 tea had gone cold, and I made a super strong mug with two tea bags in it. To a snap of it, then without changing anything on the Kodak, I took the shot above from the window of the greenish morning sky. Much later, when it came to putting the photos on CorelDraw, the mug of extra strong tea was not on the SD card, but, as you can see, the green sky came through okay to the card?

I checked on the Google calendar, realising I’d not put the appointment on it for the (I love this old title) (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis. (VTR) Venous thromboembolism includes (PE) pulmonary embolism (PE) and the Warfarin Monitoring Clinic. They’ve changed it now, and it has a humdrum title: Anticoagulation Clinic. Hehe! Also, please note I’ve got three food orders arriving in three days? Have I lost my grip on things again? (Well, it’s likely) Asda yesterday, Iceland today, and Ocado tomorrow. Hopefully, I can do without an order until or after Christmas now. Most of the items on these three, well, not on Ocado but the others, is treats and drinkies for the staff, Nurses & Carers for Christmas.

The Iceland order arrived. The driver took the bags to the kitchen for me; there were only four of them. Very few fresh products. Apart from the mushrooms that I hope to turn into pickled mushrooms today, and three days later, I will be ready for nibbling! So the fridge looked about the same as it did yesterday. Not that I needed anything anyway. But I must resist getting anything else in, or the bank manager will have my guts for garters. By gum, sorting the other bags out took me a while.
They both had Christmas nibbles and treats in them.
I have two shelves filled with drinkies to offer the Christmas workers this year. Hopefully, no nurses will need to call, but I must ring them and tell them to collect their bottles.
The nibbles bowl was filled. I had to put some of them on the Carer’s desk. A decent choice to offer them this year. I love doing this, but it doesn’t stop them from telling me off occasionally… well, often. Haha! 

arrived, as I was finishing sorting out the fodder and was just about to start prepping the mushrooms for cooking and then pickling them. We discussed if she could help me in the morning instead of doing domestic work and if she could try to call the audio clinic or chemist for me to help sort out my concerns. I think she said she may be able to try the clinic. Oh, I hope she can get through.

I started updating the blog. Since there is not much left to do on Mondays, I should send it out earlier today.

Carer Chloe returned as I’d just finished cooking and pickling and jarred up the mushrooms. I fear that the first attack of the day came from . Hence, I cannot recall much of what took place. I do remember her using the Hoover thingamibob. But little else, Tsk!

After Chloe had left, I turned my attention to the mushrooms that were now cooked and the task of pickling them. I hope I got the order of things right. I drained and cleaned the mushrooms from the slow cooker. Left them to cool down a little and washed the cooker basin. I stored the mushroom in the now empty pickling jar. They looked a lot darker than yesterday? Hope they turn out alright. I’ve got the remainder of the uneaten ones in a used jar and got them out of the fridge for later tonight (although it looks like it may be in the early hours of the morning; I’m so far behind with everything, grumpy, groan and gragknacles!

My lovely neighbour Jenny telephoned me. She had read the blog about my hearing aid problem and offered to give me some batteries if that was the problem.
She is so kind to me. ♥

Then I received an email from Lisa in the US of A! Another Gem in my life. She commiserated with my problems; she has more than enough of her own. ♥ Told me of for feeling guilty, Bless her Cotton Socks! ♥

Carer Sam called. She said she would find my laundry bag and return it to me if she could. I don’t think she found it. Carer Chris did the teatime call and did not bring it up, but he might have it on his last call. No, I have confidence in the lad, absolutely. Mind you, if it disappeared, it’d be the fourth time since I started having Carers take it to the launderette.
Good Luck and I do not have an affinity!
Having quoted that, it was lovely today having two angels asking how things were.
Jenny 💛 & Lisa 🧡 

It’s late now. I’ll get summat to eat, methinks.

Nice feast of sorts here! Home pickled mushrooms and water chestnuts, cheesy rolls well non-butter buttered, with dabs of Marmite. Potatoes, garden peas, pickled eggs (shop-bought), and a very tasty tub of delicious lemon curd yoghourt.

Carer Christopher made his last call.
And he immediately set to getting the new mini-oven out of the box and into action on top of the old, broken-down large cooker.
Took him no time at all. I couldn’t lift the box, let alone get it up onto the old cooker.
We turned on the electricity after plugging it into a socket. I admit to a slight nervousness about doing this. Remembering what happened with the old cooker… Would it blow the fuses again? Well, after showing me the controls, I turned on the oven. It was heating up immediately, and no blown fuses to put us in the dark!
Great” Thanks, Chris!
Chris issued the medications and got the nocturnal catheter to bog out for me to put on. We forgot to take my diabetic socks off, but things were rushed a little while doing the cooker for me, so I’m not bothering about the Night bag at all. After Christ departed, I got a Kodak camera out and took this shot of the cooker, with it lit up inside and my reflection of taking the shot on the glass. The flask masked the two hobs on top of the machine. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
All the bestest, folks!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Depressed Inchy: Monday 16th December 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve still not made an appointment with the audiologist,
Life’s gone all confused, with more abstrucities,
Now I’ve got problems with the new Pharmacist,
The prescriptions were not delivered by the chemist,
Got to phone Matron at the clinic…
Then, the dispenser chap at Jaypex,
I was less confused with Covid and Brexit!
Hearing aid kaput, that takes the biscuit!
Can’t hear folks talk on the phone; dolorific!
Got to ring Matron Julie; that’ll be terrific!
Plans and logic have gone folkloric!
Are my memories actual or fictitious?
I thought the swap-over was completed?
My remaining confidence is now depleted!
Problems! But am I to blame or guiltless?
Mix-ups, failures, unknown conjunctures…
Forgot, misheared, errors are circumforaneous!
Baffling, min-bending, even deceptious,
Many complications; I dare not make a list!
What happened with the gastroenterologist?
It was long ago, memories in a fog & mist,
Fears, worries, rampant, not just a glitch,
Thought I was helping with the chemist switch,
Frustration, I’d had far more than a glutch,
They ask me things, but Memory Mangling Iris…
Has me guessing answers, not sure, hyperbolic,
My thoughts are non-heuristic, pathetic,
The nut Doctor said I was hypokinetic…
Don’t understand it, but I can remember it!
I need some help before I go manic,
I’m getting nothing solved, chewing at the bit,
New meanings and instructions just don’t fit,
I’ve never been so misanthropic,
My brain is ever more peripatetic,
I suppose this reads rather pessimistic?
I think that was the idea and or trick…
Peripheral Neuropathy, seizures, a diabetic…
Angina, Glaucoma, knees & hands arthritic,
So many ailments I can feel phantasmagoric!
No wonder I’m going all self-pedantic!
Folks should see that I’m oxymoronic…
Double-check I’ve not made a mistake,
Get me help… that’d be just the tonic!
Depression can be recidivistic…
Shames and embarrassments are automatic,
This day I have a new enuredness…
Life today enfolds a deeper equivocalness,
Murkiness, obscurity, apprehension,
Anonymity, tension, lack of invention…
I suppose I’m a mental circumforanean,
Full of depression and exasperation?
Self-pity, grumpy and mental exhaustion,
There’s one possibility, one explanation…
My self-floccinaucinihilipilification?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

05:10hrs: Got up and took the night pouch off. 
I decided to finish the Sunday blog, shower, perform Throne duties, have a shave, and put on my trousers, ready to go to the shops later. Huh!

I cleaned up a mess I’d left in the kitchen sink, made up the waste bags, and got on with the blog—but not for long. The innards rumbled and off to the Porcelain Throne.
The evacuation took 30 seconds, and the cleaning up afterwards took about 10 minutes.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
The Asda order arrived.
This one was in a big, big order.
The fridge was filled.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Richard arrived. He was not very happy with me for changing the chemists around. I was hurt a smidge, not the lad in any way. It’s just that when Matron Julie suggested changing it, I thought that it would be a good idea to save Richard from fetching the medications for me each month. But he’d set up a system with the Carrington Chemist. Not only that, Richard said the prescriptions should have been delivered by now from the Jayplex Chemist. I must ring them today to find out what is going on. I felt terrible at getting it wrong, and Depression Duncan came on. Everything I try to do to help seems to fail! 

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Chloe came, and I was in a part-depression and part-seizure mode. I explained why to her. She issued the medications and went to check the taps for me…
I’d left the hot tap running! 
It had run cold. So, no washing and shaving until tonight when the heater comes on. Another bout of self-name-calling, and I got so angry with myself over it. It was getting to me even deeper now. I felt awful.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. I got a text message, followed by another one, before I could get to my super-new mobile phone. Hehehe!
But the message thingy told me, ‘Unable to save this message’ on both calls. Now, I wondered if it might be from a company that might be delivering the prescriptions. But, like most things in this world, it was a mystery to me. Maybe it was to tell me a parcel is on its way? I’ll never know. I deleted some messages, hoping they could or might send them again. And praying that it was the medications in the first place. No shopping for me, and no shaving, scrubbing, or medication until the evening when the water gets hot enough to wash & shave. I think that might be read wrongly.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. 
They were kicked off, and now, five hours later, they are still with me! Fortunately, they have all been short ones up to now. Enough to break the already near-absent concentration, though.

I gave up on the blogging. What I’ve got is all I can put on. found a new depth.
I can’t recall it being so frustrating for a long time. Of course, I and ‘remembering’, do not have a strong affinity.

I felt even worse now, thinking that the prescription may of may not be coming. I was also too scared to use the tap to make a brew of Glengettie because I was afraid of running even more water. All in all, I was on a downer.
So, I decided to make an early nosh. But being blessed with indecisiveness, a lack of willpower, and aboulomania, combined with a degree of… well, forgetting things, I forgot about the food and went on the WordPress Reader.

Cheesy cobs with no-butter-butter
beef and tomato slices. Garden peas.
Pickled eggs with black pepper.
Shop-bought pickled silverskins &
Home Pickled, pickled mushrooms!
Lipsmackingly Good!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski, Each!

Apathy Inchy this Sunless, Friday 13th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sometimes, one must be strict,
Especially if Summat’s been nicked,
Or someone acted uncaringly wicked,
Be it by human creatures or bionic,
Suitable punishment would be a tonic,
Sentences & crime do not befit,
Murder sentences are bullshit,
To save the cost of housing in the nick,
Parole Boarders are so easy to bootlick,
Provided inside with drugs & arsenic,
Solutions are beyond the bureaucratic,
Then, there’s Starmer & the Tory’s deficit!
His rosy cheeks indicate an alcoholic,
Who’s not diplomatic but diabolic!
Robbing pensioners was rather drastic,
His stealing from the poor & increased taxes,
Complains about this from Unions & Voters,
Keir ignored them, and they hoicked,
Freebies? He’s self-absorbed, narcissistic,
Take his vows with ethylenediaminetetraacetic,
Listing his backhanders would be encyclopaedic,
To the Labour party values, he’s econoclastic…
This ode sounds docudramatic,
But I can do nothing but kvetch…
The ode’s themes are, sadly, logorrhoeic,
And far from being mesmeric…
The name Starmer I use as a mnemonic,
When I can’t recall the word pathogenic!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I woke late and might been even later if it had not been for the unintentional waking me up from the dream I was having by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. And it was not the leg! The last time I made an unpremeditated Hitler Salute was many months ago. This morning’s  ‘Heil Hitler Salute’ knocked over two bottles of spring water, two bags of Frazzles, and a teaspoon & fork. (Although they may be dropped in my slumber, especially if I have a dream or seizure. I tend to do a fair  bit of nocturnal damage, you know!) 
The dream was a good one, what bits I can recall. I was on the roof of the flats, and I couldn’t remember the door code to get back in. So I jumped off the building (15 floors), landing in a tree. An ambulance arrived instantly. Three medics came to, I thought, rescue me. But instead, they beat the hell out of me and took my bank card, demanding the number. I swore at them… something else happened… I was under the ambulance with one of the medics with a notebook and a pen bent over me. Telling me that the ambulance would run slowly over my bone-dome if I didn’t give them my pin… Well, I couldn’t remember it! She called to the driver, and the bloodwagon’s front wheel started to press against my head. I’m sure I thought to myself, ‘Ah, sod it!’ The next second, I was in bed Hitler Saluting, which clouted my knuckle against the wall, and reining in my arm, I bashed my elbow and hit my head on the safety bar. Knocking stuff off the overbed table. Still, I thought it was much better than getting my head crushed underneath an ambulance. (I was temporarily confused between reality, logicality and fantasy, then?)

I let my head clear… as straightforward as it will ever be, and removed the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch from the day bag. Later, Carer Chris Confirmed this bloodied pouch had a number 6 rating on the NHS check card. Far too red!

I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a small mug of Co-op 99 tea. 
Taking a couple of snaps of the morning view.
A lot of difference in the sky colour. They were taken within about three minutes of each other. The green aura was back again. This often comes morning and night. No idea why.

Kettle on, and I hobbled to the wet room to get the ointmentating done in my private areas. Piles, Little Inchies fungal lesion, under my arms and man-breasts. Hehe! Plenty of cream to use. I hope I remember ordering some more on time. On leaving, I managed to get my leg tangled up with . Which tugged at , and she’s not forgiven me now, 12 hours later! Hope I’ve not made things worse than usual. I’ll see how it goes.

Carer Chris arrived in a jolly mood. It was nice to see that. He and I forgot to put the diabetic socks on. But he invoked changing the day catheter rigmarole for me. Did a good job, too. Then he took some photos of me with different expressions on my mush to use later in the Inchy Today… tomorrow.

Later, after struggling, I still got them saved, so I took this snap of the computer screen with them in CorelDraw.

I sorted the bin bags out and felt I’d forgotten something. So I checked around, including taps, fridge and freezer doors, windows, etc. But I felt uncomfortable not knowing why everything was alright after looking around.  

They kicked off and stayed with me for at least three hours until Carer Joanne came. I was trying to sort the Thursday blog finalising. But it was hard work with all the correcting I had to do. The gal had done the not-machine-washable gowns for me again. She really is a lifesaver. We laughed and joked, and I did most of the talking. I do that too often. Tsk!


Ace reporter & photographer Inchy of Cell 72 took these photographicalisations of the fire from his kitchen.

I put Radio Nottingham on to see it. I could find out where it was; it looked close, maybe on Hadyn Road.

The intercom burst into song. I was a delivery. Surely I had not done it again and ordered more bloody food?
Nope, it was the Mini-oven that was due tomorrow.
And it is much bigger than I thought it would be. But the deliveryman carried it through to the kitchen for me. I’m doubting it will fit on the old clapped-out stove now.
I’ll ask Carer Chris when his next day in is and beg him to help me fit it.
It looks wider than the flipping freezer!
Oh, dear, another Inchy Cock-up?

Carer Chris came later. He seems to think it might just go on the stove. He opened the box to check. I’m not sure, but I hope the lad can manage it for me. Bless him.

I got the rolls and onion out of the fridge. (I can’t get into the freezer, whimp me, can’t move the mini-cooker, it’s too heavy for me to manage. Tsk!
I got back on the computer and was impressed with how far I’d got on with it. !

Well, it’s now 19:25. It’s a toss-up between washing, eating, or going to bed. No problem. I’m too tired to wash and can’t sleep anyway, so I’ll make up the two cheese cobs with red onion, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, and beef with no-butter butter and have summat to eat. That sounds fair enough to my gluttony. Hehehe!

Hopefully, I’ll be back in the morning to finish this.
TTFN.

I got the meal sorted.
The resulting feast.
Three cheese bread rolls are spread with extra-strong cheese paste, ham, tomatoes, red onions, and pickled mushrooms. I forgot the beetroot. Tsk!

Carer Chris arrived for the last call. He removed the diabetic socks, medicated me, and grabbed some nibbles and a drinkie to help me sort out the mini-cooker on Monday. I hope he does anyway.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Keepeth well and safe. I wish everyone could.

Shortarse Inchy: Tuesday 10th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Monday, I was at my awfullest,
I’ve got to get this of my chest…
WordPress lost the blog I’d written best…
I’ve never been so depressed!
Lost the ode of 33 lines, 15 photos at least,
900 plus words, some of my bestest!
I felt in a world of complete solitariness,
Showing a degree of stoicalness,
I did the blog again; anger & shirtiness,
No time to medicate or ablutionise…
Though I felt some frustration & stress,
Matron Jackie, Nurse Rayon, God bless…
Getting the 2nd one done, I felt astucious,
At the same time very carnaptious!
At times, EQ & I got a little contrarious,
If I had been born in the Cretaceous…
Would I have been luckier, more gracious?
I got on and did it again ’cause I’m cretinous!
I now sense that I’m more extraneous,
But by doing it, I felt more eximious!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A good 4-hours kip last night. Not enough, I know, but a darned sight better than Zilch. And welcome all the same.
I didn’t wake up until after 0600 hrs. I immediately realised the Asda order was due at 06> 0700 hrs. They could have been, but I couldn’t hear the intercom going off. I prayed it would not be another day like yesterday!
I wanted a wash, shave, and shower badly, and I didn’t have one in yesterday’s turmoil. But dare not wait until later; I didn’t want to miss the fodder coming. Mind you, if I had known what I learned after the delivery, I’d have been better off locking the door! I’ll talk more about this a little later.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and took this terrible photo to ask the Carer to identify the shade number on the NHS graph card. Hours later, when I got the images on CorelDraw, I found this one on the left of the SD card. With Gladys Glaucoma sending my vision hazy so often, it took me ages to identify what it was I’d taken a photo of and why I did. I did sort the waste bags out, and I think this was the bag emptied on the kitchenette door handle. That’s my guess!

The Asda order arrived shortly after I’d done the waste bags.
The regular driver came. He is a nice bloke who does not get agitated when I ask him to put the food into boxes and bags I keep for the job. I put them into the hallway and cheerio’d the chappie as he left. 
Then, I photographed the fodder as I emptied things out of the bag and boxes. I was building up my stock of spring water and soda water so I could do without an order come Christmas week. Also, the toilet rolls and kitchen towel stock were boosted a bit. Well, a lot, really. I never know if it will be a Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad visit to the Porcelain Throne. I got the nurses, Wardens, and Carer’s drinkies and treats built up and ready for the festivities.
What festivities am I on about? I don’t know. It just slipped out. There is no chance. I certainly shall not be festivalling. I like that word! I’m also stocked up with black bean sauces, bicarbonate of soda and fresh air sprays. In case Trotsky Terence should make a comeback!
Lemon desserts, bacon, pretend fish sticks, and some Macron. Aha, you ask, what is Macron? It’s Italiano lamb, sliced and shaped to look like its streaky bacon does. Expensive. You can smell and taste the lamb. I’ve enough bread, mostly cobs and Milk roll loaf, to last until the new year. Or even longer!
The freezer is entirely crammed with them. Carer Chloe helped me get them all into the freezer on her second call! Whether I can open the draws to get at them later is questionable. Haha! 
Also, some microwave sausages. All of the rolls and baps have cheese in or on them.      
There was even more in the following box; I think I got carried away ordering this lot! Still, it should give me more time to get other things done. I’m trying to contact the Audio clinic to tell the m about my hearing aids not working. Try to get an appointment, then book a lift there and back with Easy Link. Then, I must arrange to get a cooker to replace the current one that died a death on me.  
I lost track a bit there, sorry.
I invested in a batch loaf, which the label claims has three cheeses baked. (Left)

While working away on this blog, & I took a snap of the view on offer from the kitchen window. No rain today, but it seems colder now.
I spotted the house in the snap on the left, with Christmas lights aglow. Fetched Kodak and returned to the kitchen, and they’d been turned off.

The District Nurse came again, bringing the medications from Carrington Pharmacy. They were both Barrier Creams. She showed me how to apply the cream and where to do it: on the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, the bloated colonies, under the man- breasts, on the top of the catheter leg, on the Acne and Eczema wherever they appear, and alongside the Germoloid to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. She stressed how important it is to do this twice a day. I insisted she take a nibble and a drinkie. Three more identical creams were delivered via the Post Office an hour later. Being looked after is rare but lovely!

I spent a few more hours on the blog and finally posted it.

Carer Christopher called, and I spent another hour on the computer before closing down. Then, for my meal of the day, I made three-cheese bread sarnies.
The bread with cheese was so gorgeous! So as not to waste the bread, I put half of it that I didn’t eat in a bag for Chris. I was so tired I forgot to place the barrier cream on the various parts of my body. I had to force myself to get up again and apply the cream. Applying it to the two egg-shaped glands in the scrotum was the second most painful. Putting it on Little Inchies fungal lesion, as the nurse said it would be, required a delicate application. Impossible with Peripheral Neuropathy shaking and lack of sensation on the fingers and hand. I’ll take a look and see if I can see it in the morning. She told me not to put too much on to be sparse. All the other areas were easy peasy to do. I returned to the bed and got settled, wondering if I could get to sleep… Zzz! For 6 hours uninterrupted! 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Hasta La Vista!

 

Defective Inchy: Saturday 7th December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
PAREIDOLIABLE FIGURES IN THE SEA
FACES, THERE ARE 3 TO SEE.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been left in the lurch, besmuched,
Abandoned, ignored, and besmirched,
At first, this left me puzzled…
Like a dog that had been muzzled,
But I’m no longer bothered or troubled,
As my concentration departed, well, idled,
To my inanity & insanity, I came beguiled…
At least when my ailments were still mild,
Soon, they permanently bivouacked…
In my brain, aliens boondoggled,
The inner voices spoke; well, bastinaded,
Often delirious, worryingly bloviated,
They’re me, really, so can’t be hated?
This fact is worthy of being debated,
But results have become complicated,
For relief & help I waited & waited,
As one does when one’s constipated,
At a minimum, insanity & I are related,
It’s myself that I’ve berated…
My problems can’t really be explicated,
I can & do, at times, feel enervated,
Causing more fears to be generated,
Often I’m feeling enfeebled, exhausted,
Decision-making gets debilitated,
Common sense practicality is ingurgitated,
Plans, choices made are perpended…
Worries for the future proliferated,
The simplest acts get shemozzled,
There’s always a reason to be wherrited,
Designs and choices get aberrated,
Lifting moments, hopes just get withered,
Now we’ve got storms to be weathered,
Thoughts unchanneled and cancelled…
Long ago, I became tee-totalled,
I Loved Trad Jazz & skiffled,
Socialised, lived, cohabited,
Memories are available that I stockpiled,
10-minutes ago memories, get abducted,
The catheter bag gets punctured,
Monthly, the bladder is irrigated,
And I grow evermore irritated,
Why? This ode has illustrated,
My hopes & desires get commandeered,
Dementia Doreen has no threshold!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Benjamin gI semi-stirred and nodded off several times. I was finally woken up with so much pain by Carer Christopher. The guilty ailments were Cataract Chloe, Back-Pain-Brenda and Littlee Inchies Fungal Lesion. A bit off-putting. It got worse as Chris was doing the medications and getting my socks on; I’m such the paid a few visits. Other than what’s been said, this visit was, or is, a blank for details this morning. Back-Pain-Brenda stayed with me all day long. I wondered if I was having sex in a dream and pulled something? Hahaha!
I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch after Chris had gone and had a painful rinse and wash. BBB was giving me a lot of aggro again.

After running the CCleaner, I continued updating and made extra graphics to use tomorrow before the memory stopped me from saving. It was a clever idea, I thought. Now I wonder why I bothered! After doing them, I continued to put all the imported graphics and photos onto the Sunday blog in error! Then, I found myself even more confused than ever when I saw that I’d saved some for Saturdays and others for Sundays! By the time I had sorted them all out, the computer’s memory would not let me save any more. So, I reran the CCleaner and was satisfied that I had cured the mistake. I was satisfied I’d cured the mistake! Hahaha!
I discovered that I’d cleaned the Sunday graphics and put them on the Saturday page – then cut and pasted them instead of Saturday’s back on the Sunday page. Hang on, there’s more to come… These happened later, but it won’t matter; I’d got everything out of sync now. 
While still in the middle of trying again to get things back in order, the intercom rang. I thought it was the unintended food order arriving – but no! A tenant told me there was a box outside the foyer doors with my address on it. So kind of her. I hastened down in the lift, and the lady met me as the doors opened. She put the box in the lift cage, and I thanked her. I exited the lift and sent the cage down for the lady. Going through the flat lift lobby door, I got myself tangled in the door and floor when I dropped the walking stick and grabbed for the falling parcel! I got indoors and did my best to rub some pain gel on Back-Pain-Brenda. I took an extra Codeine. I was about to investigate the mess I’d made on Corel Draw, and Carer Joanne arrived. As she left, I got set to investigate again…
The intercom rang. This was the food order I didn’t remember making or wanting. 
Another packet of Chestnuts, two cans of water chestnuts, Meet-in-a-jar-Miestwo, fish sticks and black bean sauce.
I put the drinks in junk room three to keep them safe.
I put a few bottles underneath the computer in the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors that had long fallen off.
I took the waste from the wrappings to the waste chute.
No injuries falls, or trapped fingers were encountered; I dropped the walking stick several times.
I returned to the flat and noticed scuff marks near the lift door. I emailed the Low-Cost Food Store to inform them that I would not use their services again. I explained the problem with the food being left outside and my ailments. I haven’t received a reply yet!
The promised rain appeared I took this photo of it when I made something to eat as the evening approached seemingly in haste?.
I decided to take another look at today’s Accidauxpas.
I managed to get the snaps and graphics in the WordPress gallery. But all were out of order, which meant relying on my memory, Hahaha!
The gourmet meal I made for tonight’s feast is on the left.
Two herby cobs with Marmite and some out-of-sell-by-date chips from the freezer. Did them in the air-fryer. They tasted okay to me, well, wellish. So far behind with everything again. I tried to get a good WordPress Reader session, but I was getting so tired so early that it took the shine off. kicked of with venom. As the night approached with and both giving me what for painwise.

I was deep in sleep when Carer Chris came on his last call. He put on the night pouch and the diabetic day socks off, without hardly disturbing me. Bless him. 
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski each & all!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inadequate Inchy: Tuesday 3rd December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Would you know if someone gave you a zeitgeber?
Does that serve as a signal, hint, or option?
If you don’t know it matters not soever,
The question was an aberration…
There rumbling again in my viscera,
Yesterday, a seizure went on for an aeon,
It’s expected for folks of my generation,
And have you seen the state of the Nation?
From violater Starmer’s promised denigration,
I’m daily going from the Trots to constipation,
Finding time for some contemplation…
I’m not educated; I’m a bit of a wiseacre,
My decisions drop to a state of abstention,
This bothers me much, but I can’t remember…
My original aim, thought, or intention…
Of my Ode subject with lucubration,
The grey-cells messages are labyrinthian,
I live without laudation or admiration,
Bad luck and doom seem to be my obsession,
Hence, this ode & my typomania…
Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, in short, MMM…
Often gets me feeling angrier,
Wanting to reach out again for my Sangria!
In my head is a juxtaposition, a contiguity,
Rich & poor, the rich wanting, getting more,
Darkness vs light, good vs. Bad, ever contrary,
My thoughts argue accusatively, acerbically,
My brain invaders occupiers disagree,
They question my very corporeality,
Where I question the same, well, mostly me,
The election result, Bye-bye Tory story,
Herr Starmer’s Labour winning,
Pensioners & Farmers losing…
Still, I suppose it stops them boozing?
Much too much violence and killing,
Parole Board; murders, they let them free,
So, they can and do kill again, you see,
This is wrong, says the bible and me!
The Quran (60:8) seems to agree…
Yet wars continue on earth daily,
HMG rules not affectionately or effectively,
They concentrate on being self-beneficiary,
No help from any God, Alien or banshee…
The world will soon be human-free,
When I discover the date, most certainly…
I lose my worries over not being able to pee,
I’ll await the end seemingly, patiently,
Laughing and drinking Glengettie tea!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Partner failed to call for help as his bed-bound partner died as she lay on the floor for 11 days!

A bed-bound Nottinghamshire woman died after her partner left her on the floor for 11 days when she fell out of bed. Nottingham Crown Court heard how, for all the time, Caron Kinsey had been helplessly lying there, and Christopher Tansley had failed to summon any help. While the 63-year-old victim was on the carpet, he would light cigarettes for her and bring her soft drinks. But when he finally did call the emergency services, paramedics found her covered in urine and faeces and, with pressure sores all down the left side of her body, under a urine and an excrement-covered blanket.

Jailing 63-year-old Tansley for two years and three months, the Honourable (Haha!) Mrs Justice Tipples KC said:

“The circumstances of her death are sad and tragic. Caron was curled up on the floor in the fetal position on her left-hand side. She was covered in several urine & fetal-soaked blankets. She had pressure sores on almost the entirety of her left-hand side. “This was a terrible and distressing scene, and it was plain that Caron required urgent help, but you failed to get any. Morphine was given, and she was taken to hospital and died just after 11pm that night.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It took another long time to get to sleep again this morning. But I did manage around three hours in the land of Nod. I think I had a dream, but only fragments can be recollected. I may have been in outer space and using a hand-held RT to talk to some aliens in a glass-topped flying saucer. Can’t remember owt else about that section of the dream. But I found myself having some pleasant nookie with a woman and worried about how who she was and why?   
I woke up disappointed that the lady and I were no longer physically entangled. Which, of course, we were not in the first place. Indeed, it must be impossible to miss something that never was or could have been? I’m sure I knew it was surreal and fantasy as the dream progressed. Well, I can now tell you it is possible to miss something that never happened or could never been. I think, anyway! 

04:45hrs; I scribbled some notes on the pad and removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. I got a little mixed up later when the computer played it nasty and just let some and not others be saved. There is a possibility I’ve put the wrong photo on above. Later on, the computer let me save the right one, here on the right, showing the deeper hue. I went to empty the nocturnal pouch and meandered into the kitchenette. The night view was worthy of me taking a few shots of it, with the green hue of the clouds out there.
The houses and land did not turn out well during the second two efforts, as a cold breeze blew  through the window.
There was a fourth taken, but it came out just pure black, with no shadows of any clouds. I got something wrong again. Tsk!

Then, off I limped to the wet room. 
To put it mildly, it was a long, painful, patience-needing Constipation Conrad controlled session. I hope they never install a microphone in that wet room! The verbal Arghs, aye, aye-ayes, foul language that flowed for about twenty minutes, the twenty minutes of agony as the multi-coloured, Poisidon-sized concrete torpedo was half in-half out. Encouraging the motion to flow took it out of me; it just about wore me out! I had to remain seated for a few minutes to help me recover from the monumental effort required! Two extra tasks this morning. I had to get the bamboo canes to break up the torpedo, as the WC was not coping with the two-tone red and black evacuated product. I wasn’t surprised either; I was just glad I’d gotten rid of it. Then attention was needed to the bloody mess of blood that’d flowed from poor old . 
Then, after I had a wash, but I forgot to shave, the medicationing off . As I moved the catheter tube a little to help the cream go intoLittle Inchie, when it did, my language even amazed me! Again, I was glad there were no microphones in use!

On the computer, belatedly. I had a lot of trouble getting the photos saved for use on WordPress. Hours later, it got pally and let me get at least some of them on. But it was complicated & time-consuming! 
I remembered that the JS order was due today, so I moved some boxes to the front door to prepare for the delivery.
Carer Chloe arrived at 08:45hrs. As I was restarting doing the blog catch-up. A darned good job, too! She checked the timing for today’s delivery on the JS website… and discovered I had not sent off or checked out the order yet! So, we changed the timing to tomorrow, for delivery between 11:00 to 15:00hrs and checked it out. Saving another cock-up with an order! ♥

She (Chloe) returned later to do some domestics for me. She mopped the kitchen and wet room floors.

Back to the computer: When I’d forgotten where I was with things and struggled to regain control, mistakes flowed; they do that to me naturally, you know!

I’d been working on Tuesday’s blog; it was cruelly slow going with a mind that kept wandering off each time I got interrupted, had a Seizure, and a few shocks thrown in the mix, and I was off to Loola-land. I decided I could manage a mug of Glengettie or 99 tea. As I grabbed , it dawned that I had not yet finished the Monday blog! So, I did!
Well, I was going to…

Embarrassment!
SELF HATRED!

It suddenly dawned on me that both my feet felt wet. I did not panic at first cause I’ve been getting sensations of areas of the body getting Icey-cold-Wet sensations, and I thought I must be getting a double this time… But, No!
As I decided to get the slippers and socks off and wash my feet, as I stood up;

I slipped on the wet and took a tumble. Nothing new there! What wet, you ask? I hope! The urine that had flowed out of the ! The valve was in the fully open position! How it got in that position remains a mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, , ectoplasms,  extraterrestrials, spirits, , Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas. Along with Hell-sent demons that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?

It was a struggle again, but I managed to fetch a bowl of water without any more into the main junk room. Then, something I hadn’t thought of arose – how do I get the socks off? I can now tell you. Hehe! I don’t know why I laughed then? I ended up cutting them off from the top to loosen them. Then, I trapped the toe end with my other heel and painfully, especially with Cartilage Chloe, tried to lift the leg to pull them off. It must have taken me half an hour to get them off and thrown away. I then used three rolls of thick kitchen Towels to help soak the urine. The plan is to change them regularly and spray the carpet between applications. As I write this, the next roll will be the ninth, with none left to use!

I stripped off and put the shirt, dressing gown, and stinky slippers in the laundry bag; the slippers would have company in there, as well as another pair of slippers I’d wee’d into two days ago. There must be a better word, but embarrassment is precisely what I was and am going through! That

and a degree of shame and more shame, labefaction. Twice in three days! But this wasn’t a leak; this one was much more of a catching-you-out torrent! Gragknangles!
Off to the wet room for a stand-up wash and medicationings. Why not have a shower, you may ask? Cause when I put the rag used at first to soak in the kitchen sink bowl… I can’t believe this myself… I left the hot tap running to go cold!
I can see I will end up at home if I can’t reign in my .

Once in the wet room, I washed the delicate areas first, then applied the medications and creams. Excuse me… ARRGH!

I was unsure which creams to use on the unidentified blotches on both lower arms.
I ended up dabbing them with the weaker Lavender & orange Dettol disinfectant. 
After a few minutes of applying the Dettol, the arms seemed to feel a little easier and appeared less inflamed. Maybe I had made a rare right choice for once. If I recall correctly, I made the right choice in November 1953.
You’ve got to laugh; it’s such a pathetic state to end up in!
Old age… Sod-it!

Getting the fresh Depends on is usually a bit of a battle, but for some reason, it went almost smoothly this time. I even considered going into a .
♬Oh, Susan♬ rang out from the door chime, and Carer Christopher tapped on the wet room door. As I opened the door, forgetting I was in just the new protection pants, the lad laughed harder than I had ever heard him before. I thought it might be the sight of my grotesque body, but he asked if I’d just had a shave? I replied positively, and he laughed again, even louder! It seemed I’d missed a lot of the bristles on my neck. He was time-limited but hastily got the razor and corrected my mistake as he shaved my missed bits. The blood loss was not too severe. Ha-ha! Chris got the medications sorted, given and shot off on his rounds. A special thanks to the lad! I appreciated his help!

Feeling a little cared about, I cheered and started writing this blog. Then I realised I hadn’t posted yesterday’s blog yet. So I did! What a day!

Tired & weary now. Better get some nosh made.
I’ve got potatoes that have accidentally been cooking in the slow cooker for nine hours now. If they have not crumbled to liquid yet, I’ve some beetroots, mushrooms, fresh Kenyan garden peas and sausages to make a meal.
Ah, well, I’ll get it sorted back in the morning.
Well, I hope so. TTFN.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
GOOD MORNING!
Well, making the meal was another bit of semi-farce. In keeping with today’s series of the damned things!
I dropped the sausages on the floor, rescued most of them, and then burned them all in the microwave. When I got them out, they were rock-hard. Tsk!
Sausages (well cooked, Haha!).
Fresh garden peas, over-boiled potatoes, sliced & salted tomatoes with some Polish pickled mushrooms and cut-up pickled beetroots. A tub of mandarins in jelly followed.
Had I not made a mess of… I’ve just realised how often I type those words; ‘I made a mess of!’ Where was I? Had I not made a mess of heating the sausages, this meal’s rating would have been in the high nines! 

I washed the cooking and eating things and struggled into the hospital bed. With relative ease, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. That should have been changed last Friday. I had  not ensured that I kept forgetting to ask the caregivers to do it. I remember mentioning it several times early during the visit, but after the Caregiver had gone, I realised it hadn’t been done yet again. Tsk! 

Then, for once, Sweet Morpheus enveloped me in rest and peace. No dreams, or , as far as I recall. I felt gifted… and feared for what Wednesday would have in store for me… Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Poxy Inchy: Sunday 1st December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Is Starmer running HMG veneficiously?
I’ll check it out in my dictionary,
He’s not doing it very efficiently,
Pensioners are forced to eat or heat, you see…
Farmers are to pay 48% more tax, say HMRC,
Even worse, my favourite-tasting tea…
Typhoo made it a weaker Glengettie!
Dizzy Dennis & Shaking Shoulder Shirley,
Life is enveloped in ambiguosity,
Self nitpicking batrachomyomachy,
Glaucoma Gladys awaits her trabeculectomy,
My computer is more like a whigmaleerie!
3 times, I left the hot water tap running,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids have been bleeding,
The min-seizures have been increasing,
Many other things are worthy of me groaning,
But I’m sick of hearing me moaning,
Constipation Conrad ever consolidating,
My cerebrum is ever circumstancing…
Retetion-loss, theories, contriving…
A devil of a job, in concentrating,
Leaving me worrying, contemplating,
Is logicality worth conserving?
My sanity or insanity certifying?
I can remember my days of billing & cooing…
The girl’s responses? Laughing or Booing!
I’ve not been good at anything I was doing,
Yet I still enjoy a poem, a bit of odeing,
What I miss a lot is communicating,
Talking to myself too much, alone isolating…
I can no longer do it, but I miss canoodling!
Thus, every day, I find life frustrating!
Can’t say some thoughts I’ve been harbouring!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It took me ages to get to sleep. When I managed to drift off, I woke with a jerk & jump 2 hours later, realising that I’d made a few Fauxpas again! The same is true for the last three days! The nocturnal catheter pouch had not been put on. Also, the Diabetic socks had not been taken off last night. I needed to get my feet cleaned and deodorised urgently. The socks should be worn in the morning and taken off at night. I was in such a state mentally over the last few days I forgot to ask the Carer to do it, and they didn’t think about it. This meant I’d got an uncomfortable flow-back from the smaller day pouch; I’m pleased it hadn’t burst and leaked all over the place and me!
When I stirred, I was confused; now, I was baffled, and Dizzy Dennis kicked off. Some of Sandra’s Mini-Seizures set in and stayed with me, which didn’t help much.

The Carer arrived, and I asked her to take off the socks. But we both forgot about them. Carer Maryham or Kimberley did the dinner slot and took off the socks later.

I took some snaps of the rain inside the balcony through the windows.

Then, had to visit the Porcelain Throne. A marathon visit it was too, I can tell yers!
I spent a long time on the crossword book  as I waited for ages for the motion to begin.
It came agonisingly slowly, with two cube-shaped briquettes causing much bleeding and, as I said, agony! Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids were tortured and needed a lot of cleaning up and dollops of Germoloid Ointment to calm down their hurting, stinging pains that lasted for yonks. I was walking oddly, unusually, as I left the wet room. Haha!

The Low-Cost Food delivery arrived. l sorted it out and refilled the carer’s & Nurse’s Nibble Bowl. There was another box of Cadbury mini Flakes. I assumed it would be like the last one, which was very popular, individually wrapped – But No! They were Catering packs, with 144 Flakes, loose in trays. Some of them were not broken… but not many. So I wrapped some bags of them up and put them in the fridge to hand out later in the week. 
Shame! I hope they keep fresh.

Finally, I got around to updating yesterday’s blog. The seizures were so frequent I gave up until they had passed.

The weary tiredness returned, and I considered getting my head down again. By the time I’d made my mind up to do this, my energy lifted along with my morale? So, I took advantage of the lift and finished and posted the blog. The feeling of going up and down again continued for the rest of the day. An unsettling situation.

Yesterday and earlier this morning, I tried to snap the strange meal several times, but it would not save to file, like many others. I tried again, and wallah! It saved and went onto WordPress for me! I recall eating it while on the computer. Now I’m not sure if it was yesterday’s or from another day that wouldn’t save. I think it was. It was a bread roll with Marmite and no-butter butter, chicken mini sausages, Stilton cheese, and some Aunt Bessie baked potatoes done in the Air Fryer. They were terrible! The flesh was dry and didn’t crisp up much at all.
Oh, I’d love to be able to afford a new cooker! Tsk!
,
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Colour 50 – 18 – 0.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
..
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
,
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.

Infant Inchy: Sunday 24th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ODE from INCHY

From within the depths of a shallow hope,
Dreams may start to evoke…
Your old desires, you will possibly revoke,
Be you young, old, female or menfolk,
Chances are you’ll need a urineascope,
You can avoid them using the cystoscope,
Maybe a heart op, or colonoscope,
Or the uncomfortable gastroscope,
A bronchoscope that goes down your throat,
Perhaps (I’ve had lots of these) a cystoscope,
An oesophagoscope (I’ve only had one) no more, I hope,
Many surgical wotsits names end with scope…
Laparoscope, various forms of endoscope,
Urethroscope, proctoscope, that’s also a rectoscope,
The first cancer detector was a spinthariscope,
Which at the time helped me cope.

Labours Nye Bevan, my hero, had appeal & allure,
He saved many lives; he created the NHS for sure…
In 1948, began the NHS adventure,
Few medicals were then available for the poor,
Then, to the NHS, they did pour,
I became an ardent admirer,
Look at it now, and we’ve got Starmer…
Stealing from each pensioner and farmer,
He’s a bribes & backhanders palmer!
What made the liar want to join Labour?
Let alone become the opposition leader,
Did he come as a Labour saboteur?
Now he’s P.M., the nasty, cruel bleeder!
The politician I most hate and abhor,
Labour’s Red Rose may be due to alter…
Keir may replace it with a bloodied sabre,
He’s not going to be the UK’s saviour,
It’s personal wealth that he does savour,
I don’t mean him harm, but I’m not a well-wisher, 
I’ll wish him Godspeed to his undertaker!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Photo filing problems again.
Mini-seizures were rife throughout the day.
Dark Dank Depressions.
Immediate Dizzy Dennis Spells.
Concentration collapsed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Whoops! Wee-wee a bit red again.

I’m not sure what I did wrong taking this Kodak 2 photograph of the Renaurd-ridden toes and feet. They didn’t look anything like the hue the picture came out as. The bruising was where the cans of veg I dropped landed.

Made a mug of strong Glengettie tea. Slurp!

They were with me for about three hours on the trot.
I couldn’t find any work I had done while they were on, which is unusual. Usually, I’d find work done on the computer or in the kitchen that I could not remember doing. With the blog, this means I have to spend ages correcting things, but not today, as I have not done anything.

I soon found out I was wrong again!
It cost me time and money and embarrassment, which I didn’t realise until near teatime. When the front porch intercom sounded. I went to see who it was, expecting someone had rung the wrong flat number… or a resident had forgotten to take the key to get back in with them. But no, nothing so simple.
At the door on the screen, was a gentleman delivering me a Morrison’s food order?
So, I had been doing something while in the seizures. And what a mess I made of that, too!
I checked later on and sent the order off during the 3 hours of Sandra’s attendance.
The chap arrived, and I put the food away, but why I’d ordered some things and not others will remain a muddled mystery.

Why the hell I ordered roasting potatoes and frozen red onions, I do not know. I have nothing to cook potatoes on or in. I can now recall buying a bag of these months ago, and they were tasteless and had to be thrown away. Three bags of cheesy bread rolls were ordered, but no sliced Milk Roll bread was ordered. Oh, dearie me!
I ordered canned coffee, which was for the nurses and carers. I also ordered some more soft drinks, but no spring water, which I take to fill the bladder.
Cream cakes? Why? Who for on a Sunday? Also, some fresh chopped white onions had been ordered? More tomatoes, two packs of different ones!
Not the faintest memory of making the order in the first place, when I made it, or why I made it!
I soon decided to see if any Caregivers wanted the cream cakes in the morning. I dropped one box of the cakes, and they squashed and sprayed cream through the breath holes in the carton!

It took me ages to clean up the mess.

Now, depression and frustration have begun.

I’m glad I ordered these cheeses, though. Mature Blue Stilton cheese and extreme vintage cheese spread. Not knowing this order was coming, I’d defrosted some ready-sliced brown bread rolls for today’s meal.

,
I used the last of the extra-strong cheddar slices on these rolls. Had I been in the habit of eating newspapers, this is just how I expected them to taste – tasteless!

After eating or nibbling a few bits of the horrendous-tasting rolls and weak cheese with some tomatoes, I put the just-delivered cheesy-topped rolls in the freezer for later.
Then I discovered they were not cheesy-topped at all, just plain wholemeal. Presumably, they had been substituted for the cheesy rolls that I wanted. Spit!

More of the day lost than recalled. Sorry.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!