Pre Mordid Cognitive Impairment

Inchie Today: Sunday 24th August 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Who was it that said, hopes immortal?
A mortal? A Saint or someone asteroidal?
Starmer? Read 1 Timothy 6:16 in the bible?
As we’re all mortal, it sounds antagonistical,
But things in the world are now so unalterable,
We may yet invent a time machine, or portal,
One that can travel forward & be reversible?
Oligarchs would sell it to the coercible,
Do you think the possibility is apprehensible?
Anyone using one must be cautious and sensible…
Changing the past – the future changes, it’s inevitable
Does it work going forward? Yes, in things medicable,
Diseases: no longer repairable or rectifiable,
But will the end of the world be avoidable?
Will Starmer becoming PM be preventable?
If so, UK citizens will find that astronomical!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

MORNING THOUGHTS IN ODE
After last night’s sleeping faux pas & farces,
I need a dentist, neurologist or Adventist?
More Carers for longer, whatever this costs.
I’ll do without food, electricity, or sex,
Each day I wonder what calamity will come next,
Did I sin in a past life? Or have I been hexed?
Mental parasites, my cerebrum they infest,
Yet still I feel that I’ve been blessed…
Nurse Wilhemena came with her massive chest!
o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

I didn’t get out of bed this morning; I did that last night. Stubbed my toe, got to the Porcelain Throne too late, again.  
All in all, as it happened, weighing it all up, the day was well up there at the very close to the top of the league of Whoopsiedangleplops. But the night outshone, and shamed Saturday day. I can’t think of anything that went right. Something must have…

At least I managed to get the Ablutionalisationing and Medicationing done before the Carer arrived. That was because he was a little late, given it was Sunday and there were so few buses running. I realised there was little time to get a good job done, so I skipped washing my feet. And in my haste, I forgot to clean my teeth; I did them later when I realised. The shaving produced several minuscule nicks around the back of the neck and a corker on my cheek. I’d better add that it was the cheek on my face. Just to avoid any confusion. Hehehe!

Later, a few minutes later, Carer Ejaz arrived. Graded the pouch as a 4 on the NHS scale. Issued the medications and antisepticated the rough skin on my lymph nodes on my legs. Got the diabetic socks on. Thanked him & wished him well, and off he shot. Whooosh! No problem with that, he had to dash to catch a rare Sunday bus, bless him.

I paid Porcelain Throne another visit. Still controlled my Trotsky Terence, but I didn’t get caught out this time.

I made a mug of Detox tea. The expensive one that uses boiling water to steep it in. Fifteen minutes later, I removed the bag, and as it says on the bag, “Do not gulp this tea, sip it.”  So, I did.

I then got yesterday’s Khagoule hand-washed in the kitchen sink. Midway through the rinsing of the shirt, I knew that a seizure was coming on; I felt it, but I cannot say precisely how, but I was aware of it on its way. I got into the front room before it came and got seated. I wasn’t aware of entering a never-never land, but that’s precisely what happened as soon as I returned and became semi-aware that reality was back. Dizziness and lack of balance kept me sitting down for a few minutes, and I attempted to have a poddle around. Greattt! Not too bad at all. Usually, the short seizure after effects are more substantial than the long ones, but this one was a good recovery. I went into the kitchen, cause I remembered what I was doing, and the water in the bowl was stone cold. Then, it dawned on me that I must have been out of it for a long time, without realising it.
I got the khagoul rung out and hung it up on the shower rail in the wet room.

I got a text message from Amazon. I couldn’t press the ‘Press to Reply or talk’ button on the screen because my phone didn’t have internet. I thought maybe they had arrived with the Diabetic socks and left them in the foyer. I went down to investigate.
Nothing in the lobby.
I pottered in the laundry room. While I was there, I put my hand in the dryer that caused all the Thursday pandemonium; it felt warm, so I assume it’s been mended again. Fifteen minutes later, a driver arrived at the front lobby door. He had the socls along with a few items for other flats. He came up in the lift with me, and I returned to my call. No, flat!
I opened the box of socks. Realising they have an L & R sewn into each pair.
How much do you bet that a Carer will leave on in the washer on his first visit with the new worn socks?

OH, DEAR!
More time is lost while using CorelDRAW. Then the door chime chimed out, and in came Carer Mizra. I realised then that the seizure had to have lasted for at least three hours. I haven’t had one that long in weeks, if not months. But the after effects were minimal and short-lived. I’m waffling, sorry.

Well, part of another day lost, following my losing most of the night before! Isn’t life exciting? I told Mizra of the prolonged seizure and the Detox tea. He said he’d look into my problem with my JS Nectar Card later on. Kind of him.

What a concoction I had tonight!
Truly a Multinational Meal.
Nandos Peri-Pei lemon & herb extra Mild sauce:(Vinegar, Onion Purée (6%), Lemon Purée (4%), Sunflower Seed Oil, Garlic Purée (2.5%), Salt, Spice and Herb Mix (Cayenne Pepper, Paprika, Parsley, African Bird’s Eye Chilli), Stabilisers (Xanthan Gum, Propylene Glycol Alginate), Antioxidants (Ascorbic Acid, Rosemary Extract), Colour (Paprika Extract), Dextrose), Made in the UK.
Extra mild Peri-Peri Sauce.
‘Mother’s Recipe’ Pakistani Vegetable pickle:
Mixed vegetable pieces, mango, carrot, lime, green chilli, amba, haldar, karonda, kerda, or other seasonal vegetables, brine, edible common salt, acidity regulator (ins260), edible vegetable oil, spices, condiments, asafetida..
Polish Fresh Garden Peas
Local-grown potatoes:
Roasted in the oven, sliced and then added to the mix, with a little Marmite added.
Isle of Wight Brown tomatoes
Quartered and added.
Bulgarian diced pickled beetroots.
Mushrooms & Mushroom Ketchup
Can of Romanian Pea Stew
Asian Water Chestnuts added.
Kung Po Chinese sauce
The whole lot was mixed up and put into the microwave, on high for 8 minutes.
Two Italian cheese-topped bread rolls.

I’m anticipating breaking the record for Porcelain Throne Trotsky Terence visits in any one day, tomorrow. Currently standing at six. I used far too much of the Pakistani vegetable pickle on that meal.
I used half of that quantity this time.

Carer Mizra helped me wash my feet, before he medicated the leg wounds cracka and fissures.

🌺 Keep Well & Safe 🌺

Inchie Today: Saturday 23th August 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
……….., erm, how can I explain? If I am able…
Some of my thoughts don’t seem to be translatable,
I can’t guarantee, or be sure, they are veridical,
Or even my own; does this sound plausible?
Dementia, Cognitive impairment, not only horrible…
But nervous-making, not controllable,
I tried grasping reality; it was not entirely feasible,
Does water on the brain make me mentally drownable?
Some people can be unintentionally smart-aleckal,
Not knowing why yourself can be tenuous, even mythical,
Mental gweilos in the head, that’s not theoretically,
I’d have laughed my head off at the thought, in 1963,
That was another me, no brain-dwellers then, I was free,
Now, I talk to myself, for it must be me, logically…
Begging myself for mental peace or an amnesty,
I find my brain often communicates antagonistically,
Seizures, ailments, just won’t back away…
Sometimes I ask myself, why have the neurosurgery?
I’ve awaited the Glaucoma lasering since 2023,
My rare self-sympathy is so cringeworthy!
1972, the last year I felt anything like Christmassy,
What happened then? Someone shot me in my knee,
Nothing changes, I’ve no Christmas tree,
But shame and guilt, I have aplenty!
If I were a Catholic, I could do a confessionary,
Tell them at thirteen I lost my cherry,
To a 46-year-old neighbour, her name was Sally,
Why, how did I manage it? That’s not a mystery,
The first time viewing of what she showed me!
I was excited, satiated, she laughed at poor little Inchy!
We met weekly, collaboratively,
Something else that bugged me incessantly…
Well, more so now, Earth’s warlike history,
It’s going to happen again, more seriously,
Again, World leaders are showing complacency,
But little clemency, compassion or coherency,
So many more this time are acting bodaciously,
They’ve created a worldwide mamihlapinatapai!
Assuring that if not all, billions will die!
Because politicians are part of the WW narcokleptocracy,
Any input from minions like me is nugatory,
With their parsimonious greed and profligacy…
Oh, I lost the plot of this cacography,
Not unexpectedly, but again, I’m sorry!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A quickie today. I got carried away with the day’s Ode.

I rose and did a double back flip off of the bed and over 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, landing perfectly, and yodelled for a few minutes on the balcony.
Ahem!

Better colour today.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications issued, sock put on. But later found they were not diabetic ones and the leg wounds flared up… or should that be flared up?
Carer Mizra changed them on the lunchtime visit for me, back to diabetic ones. Ordered some more later on in the day.

The mini seizures came on earlier today. I got confused after each one, and there were so many again. At times, one after another.

Popped out on the balcony later. Took these snaps.

I took the first of my Detox tea bags this morning. The cheaper ones. They had to be made using cold water. And left for 30 minutes. So I did. 
Aorted the waste bags out, and paid a messy, slimy, runny Trotsky Terence visit to the Porcelain Throne.
Back to get the brew, and squeezed the bag, and it burst open. Bits of seed and grass all over the cooker, me and the floor. I cleaned the mess and investigated the details on the other Detox teabag box.
This one is made with boiling water, I needed to steep it for 15-20minutes. It said I could add honey or lemon juice to flavour the drink. So, I did. Lemon
The top cheaper ones that exploded were two a day. This one was once a day. Tasted okay with the lemon added to it. Oh, it must be sipped, not drunk.

A later-than-ever start on the blog today. And with the seizures being so furiously rampant, not that they bothered me too much; it was the after effects that put me in a right confused state. However, I pressed on, ever correcting errors, but I think I enjoyed doing it. The Ode took me so long, I thought I might need another shave and shampoo. Hahaha!

I was baffled. Then I realised I might have hit the wrong key combination, which possibly caused this dilemma. The self-hating turned itself on. I waited and waited, but after half an hour, the completion rate had only gone up to 76%. Was I bothered? Of course I was! I sat here at the computer for another ten minutes, and it was still showing as 76%.

I couldn’t, didn’t have the means to turn it off via Windows. Then I think the screen flashed, inverted or wobbled threateningly.
My mechanical heart missed a beat!
I thought I was on the verge of losing my computer. Although something happens every day that makes me think this, this time I was sure it would snuff it – when the % went back down to 55% in an instant.
Deepened. Terrible thoughts floated around my head. In there, from somewhere, I got a memory prompt telling me I had not made a will yet?
It was the horriblest feeling of the week. And that’s taking into consideration Tuesday and Wednesday’s soul-destroying events. I didn’t think or expect to have such nightmares again, as soon as this. I was wrong, of course. I made a mug of tea and drank it, brooding over my failures, my own limitations, uselessness and so on.
And the scene went blank, then off. Very slowly and with a jumpy restart, the computer restarted – but only as far as the blue crash screen; with a new system laid out to get the computer restarted.

After losing more hours, I had no choice but to risk turning it off at the plug. I was more scared of making a wrong selection amongst the strange options that were on the screen.
So, I did! And with an unexpected lack of fear. I angrily accepted that this is the end of the world-famous blog. My fans from over the globe will be distraught. Both of them.
I left the computer turned off for about 15 minutes and then rebooted it.
The old blue start-up screen returned with the known options to select! And Wallah!
The main page came up, and I opened Google. Then, my impending joy was cut short when I opened CorelDraw—it froze!

Carer Mizra called and took the socks off, gave me Peptc and got the nocturnal catheter bag out for me to use later. After the lad had gone (up to now), I have not had another seizure. Great!

I pondered whether or not to bother making a meal. I was tired and more drained than usual. Cooking might be a risk. I decided not to make a meal. Just had a yoghourt and a bag (or two) of Frazzle crisps. I don’t feel terribly hungry anyway.
But so weary, unbelievably so. I made a brew of tea and sat to watch some TV. Nearly 21:00hrs already.

Back in the morning with an update on the event in case anything interesting happens. (As if? Hehehe!)

Two editions of Red Dwarf were just starting on TV. I was so pleased, and got myself into a comfortable position as is possible in the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, Horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner… and fell into a deep yet dream-filled sleep. When I stirred, the light from the TV enhanced the shock of doing so, I believed it must be getting up time already… But, No! Red Dwarf began at 21:00hrs, and the credits were rolling for the end of the second episode. So all that dreaming, albeit seemingly restful as well, had lasted for 1 hour and 40 minutes.
As I was trying to get back into the land of Morphius, who came calling on me? ! I got the Toothache tincture spray and used it. Tiffany was getting naughty with it, and I took a Codeine 30g as well..
.

I decided to mount the oooospital bed. Climbing into it, while crossing my fingers that nobody telephoned me, took a concerted effort. Why? Cartilage Chloe! The moment I got up to get the tincture to counter Toothache Tiffany, Chloe kicked off distributing her aches and pains, and she’s still at it now – I likely twisted her into action, climbing into the bed. Sunday morning 08:50hrs! Then, by the time I actually got into bed, the task of getting that into a comfortable position was somewhat challenging. Why? Well, it’s complicated, slightly similar to the Labour Government, but not as bad or crooked. I cannot reach the light switch from the bed, so I use a wind-up torch to see the controls on the bed movement panel. But I dropped it and it fell down the gap between the bed and the wall.
Trying to manipulate the controls using the torch was bad enough, but things got worse. I dropped the wired bed control box, and it bounced into the dark depths of under the bed.
I made do with the indulated rippled state of the bed. But could I get to sleep? No! The three main reasons? Toothache Tiffany, Cartilage Chloe and Thought Storming Steve – then, as if to put the cream on the cake, Anne Gyna joined in.
I’d been planning on getting some sleep for about four hours. Two hours in the recliner and two in bed. It was almost a blessing when I had to get up to utilise the . I gave myself a en route. All but tripped over treading on the dropped control panel wire, and arrived at the wet room, only to trip over my walking stick! .
I didn’t get sat down in time!
Had Constipation Conrad been in charge, I’d have missed this pleasure. But, Trotsky Terence returned instead. Splatt! Spray! Soggy mess to clean up.

= ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇=
Wishing You Peace, Pleasure & Paradisaicness!
= ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇=
TTFNski

Inchie Today: Friday 22th August 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
In Poor Ode, with bad spelling,
A Co-op greenfruit & fresh fish shop I was managing,
I locked up the shop on a Thursday, half-day closing,
At the traffic lights, my mobile started ringing,
Bulwell manager asked if I could spare sharkfin,
“Aye, I can, I’ll get back to the shop. When are yer coming?”
“I’m on my way now!” So I did some reversing,
Back to the store, with the burglar alarm activating…
Someone had kicked their way in,
The Bulwell man would soon be arriving…
This front door’s where they’ll be escaping,
The back door had an impenetrable cast-iron grating,
It dawned on me that’s where I was standing,
Stand or run ideas kept alternating…
I bent down to the letterbox to have a look in,
Two hefty guys from the safe were appropriating…
cash, into a bag they were hastily filling,
The police were slow in coming,
They beckoned me in, and I was shaking,
The tall one said Any more cash for the taking?
No, I just did the banking!
Ah, a police siren I was hearing,
They panicked a little; my nerves were rattling,
I moved to the front, hitting the storage racking,
And sent a 56lb bag of potatoes falling,
Hitting a perp, sending him tumbling…
Hitting his head, I thought he looked dead,
His mate went to him, as his head had bled…
The police burst in, they almost appauded…
Things were not as they appeared,
My part in the proceedings was acknowledged,
5’3” me, stood over burglars, one winded, one wounded,
The whole situation got distorted,
They mentioned my part in their being captured,
In court, when they were prosecuted,
Then they saw what the CCTV had recorded…
My false heroic pride, suddenly circumducted!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Slept in this morning, didn’t wake until 06:10hrs. Then got the grade five night pouch detached…  No, no, I fib. I woke up for the first time around 03:00ish, and seemingly every five minutes after that, but just fell asleep again each time. Reluctant to rise for some reason.

Meandered into the kitchenette to get the kettle on. Pottered about for a good while, then paid a hopeful visit to the Porcelain Throne. Another half hour wasted, all that urging, pushing, & forcing came to nothing.
I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can go without an evacuation. Before my innards explode?

The clouds were not colourful this morning. But by gum, they held a beauty that I could see. Likely thanks to .

Carer Elaz arrived and gave me the medications. He then helped me wash my feet in antiseptic disinfectant, dried them, and applied some of the new diabetic foam. He’s a good lad, but had to rush off to his next client. I no longer have a memory worth anything. When some of them ask, Is there anything else? I blank out, especially if the seizures are visiting, which makes things even worse.

I was struggling with my concentration suddenly, and departed. When I started to drink my mug of tea, the bloody seizures kicked off. No long ones yet, but God knows how many that I had. I’m sure I had two in the morning, but from then on, until Carer Nirma did the tea time one, it’s all a blank to me. All the signs were there of after effects. I hadn’t cleared my head by the time she arrived, and I had no idea if she’d noticed. She did, though, catch my sore throat through my croaky voice. At least I think she did.
Anything from here on can and must be taken with a pinch of salt.

I vaguely recall taking these shots from the balcony. The first one was taken, and then the second one some time later.
I think I was on WP typing in reply to Billum’s comment about the red car.

A break in the seizures was welcome. Things cleared up a lot, and I realised I’d let the catheter bag fill too much as I stood up. Oh, dearie me. The weight in the bag tugged on Little Inchys fungal Lesion. 

Carer Mirza arrived and took off the socks when I requested it. I remembered! He also put the diabetic foam on the dry skin on my legs, and asked if I needed Peptac or Cough Medicine. Nice, lad.

The plan for tonight’s meal is: Garden peas. Ready-made cheesy mashed potatoes, warmed in the oven after adding a dollop of Leicester red cheese, salt & no-butter butter and mixing it all up together. Into the oven, and just before the tatties are fully crisped on the top, add the peas. Two cheesy-topped bread rolls, a side pot of sauce, and some brown tomatoes to round it off. How does that sound? Then I’ll add a Polish Farmhouse sausage.

I was pleased with the result.
I ate all of it. (Gannet!)

= – = – = – = – = – =
TTFNski!
= – = – = – = – = – =

Inchie Today: Thursday 21st August 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Where I was, I knew not, the place, it was aesthetically…
pleasing, an Angel appeared, looking divinatory, 
But she didn’t look or speak, but seemed to ignore Inchie,
I saw my surroundings dissipate, melting slowly…
The cave was replaced by a garden, full of agrimony, 
A blue sky, with the sun shining brightly,
People appeared, forming a shape, but gradually…
They chatted and smiled with each other merrily,
I realised that they were dancing, walking through me,
Am I a ghost? Did I die? What a pity…
My brain turned a blend of confusion and ambiguity,
I let the dream continue, quite unconcernedly.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

04:00hrs; I woke in need of the  . Another Trotsky Terence torrent evacuated. Cleaning up after it took an aeon. 
Removed and then emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. Yellow binned it.
Tided up the catheter bag boxes underneath the Carer’s table. Then the windy rumble from my innards directed me to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a Constipation Conrad-controlled evacuation that wasn’t!
The only thing that did escape was a variation of almost musical-sounding blasts of wind, from pianissimo (very soft) to fortissimo (thunderous), with a few extended bursts of adagio & largo. I wondered at the time if the lady living below might well have heard them. They ended with a series of weak little blubums as the session finished.

Ocado turned up with a delivery. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me, thanks mate, kind of yer.
Brown tomatoes. Tasty cheesy cobs, mashed potatoes with mature cheddar (Even though I can’t recall ordering it). 
Also, the pot of Mushroom Pate was the highlight, featuring a mini-pot of Portabella mushroom flavourings in the veg stews and mushroom ketchup for when I’m short on actual mushrooms to use.

I must tell you that an inkling and occasional burst came from who kept visiting me this morning. And very welcome he was.

They pestered me when I started working on the blog. Naturally, Horis faded as he took control of my emotions. After resolving the initial Windows issue, CorelDraw malfunctioned, preventing me from accessing specific options. The only way to fix this infuriating CorelDraw glitch was to save everything, turn off the program, wait ten minutes, and then reopen it. Today, I had to do this three times! 
After yesterday’s absence, I guess Horis was trying to make a comeback. Despite everything that went wrong, he would eventually fight his way back into my psyche. Great!
Made an afternoon mug of the new Typhoo – ‘one cup’ Extra Strong tea. Well pleased I was too. In a big mug, you still need to use two. Naturally, my favourite tasty teas, these being Glengettie and Co-op 99, remain, but these Typhoo ones are now my third favourite.

I went on the balcony to take these three cloud shots through an open window.
To the left.
Straight ahead.
To the right.

Then I lost the plot. I sorted the old spectacles to see which ones could still be used and relabeled those that I could find a container for.
Laid them out in order of age, some estimated. One pair in this picture of them on the bed was from 1988. I had to dish a few, but had no problem with this. But I did make a . I forgot to put new labels onto the glass boxes. Humph!

I pressed on with the blogging.

The retired nurse 🤎 came to check me out. Said my bottom was not as good as on her visit last week, and reminded me not to miss the barrier creaming every morning and night. (The last few days have been so busy, I haven’t had time to wash and shave, let alone do the self-medicating! Tsk!)  
The right leg had two new leakages starting. The nurse applied two smaller, ready-filled plasters to tackle the problem.
.
After treating it, she said If it doesn’t dry up, I’ll have to call the Community nurses to inform them, and get help. This is important. Bless her!

Two late shots

.
Got the spuds out of the slow cooker, dried them off, and cut them in half lengthwise. Put them in an oven tray, flesh side up, and dollop some shredded Red Leicestershire cheese on each one.
Got them in the oven to crisp them up.

Took another night snap.

I wrapped up the computer, not in wrapping paper, and saved everything before shutting it down.

A Copernicus Sausage was added to the cheesy half-potatoes, and two cheese-topped cobs were well Marmited, and eating began!
A lemon fool for afters!

Last two photos of the day.
Thought I’d missed the sunsetting.
But the cloud broke and the sun popped through.

TODAY – MARVELLOUS!
Can I get this result again?
FINGERS CROSSED.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = = = = = = =
TTFN.

Inchie Today: Wed 20 Aug – A Daymare afternoon & evening!

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
What invention can you recall that is now Zeerust?
The Sinclair C5 was, I think, the wackiest,
I can’t recall seeing one of these at all,
I did try it, I had a ball!
Another one that I never knew!
Oh, a two-seater, too!

One of the technological oddities of the 1980s is making a comeback of sorts. The nephew of Sir Clive Sinclair – the man responsible for the famous, but flawed Sinclair C5 – is marketing an updated version of the diminutive electric vehicle called the Iris eTrike. The new street-legal, one-person hybrid electric/pedal-powered tricycle is billed as faster and safer than its 1980s predecessor and sports a Plexiglas canopy, so it can be used in all weathers. Dogressing here: Incidentally, I loved the Sinclair ZX computer to bits!
This new Iris eTrike, in its 250W EAPC (Electrically Assisted Pedal Cycle) version, is legally considered a bicycle in the UK and can be ridden by those 14 years old and above on roads and cycle paths wherever bicycles are permitted. It does not require registration, tax, insurance, or a driving license. The rider is not required to wear a helmet. I hope it doesn’t catch on like eScooters, apparently, since their introduction in 2019 to July 2025, there’s been 69 (including 25 children, & 18 pensioners) reported deaths involving escooters. Additionally, there were 628 casualties admitted to hospitals with serious injuries between 2020 and June 2024. A significant number of e-scooter injuries are not reported to the police.
Back to the Ode, I got research impulses then, sorry.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

As a nipper, I fancied being a flautist,
Not that I was musical, I was tuneless,
In the cadets, we were learning about flamethrowers,
The TSM’s daughter, Iris, came in; legs and breasts? Corkers!
I got the urge for passion and frivolities,
I spoke with her, no time for faintheartedness,
She was in the church band, I started flaunting…
After our first meeting, we started courting,
Thick thighs, passion-filled, but not daunting…
How long would it be before I was attempting…
To get close, have a grope and into her knickers?
That night I tried my goddamnedest…
I worked, I was transported to heavenliness,
We melded together; there was no hiatus…
Her attractiveness? Here weightiness & willingness,
No hypersensitiveness, it was just pure marmonious,
Our bondings may well have been erroneous,
But to we youngsters, found them frabjous,
Iris said, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

THE MORNING BLISSES… THEN, THE PM  AND EVENING COLLIESHANGIES!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
No Blogging Achieved! No time, no successes, nothing went right this afternoon. It would have been a difficult task, with all the extra jobs that needed to be done, or as today, not done. With failures, and . A mentally & physically draining, frustrating, annoying, anger-making, late seizure-ridden, pain-polluting, ill-making, infuriating, maddening, barely-endurable, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna & Frustration Frank creating, sod of an excruciating infested, making my blood boil, day.
Life is not working – I am not coping. I have never felt so angered, aggravated or exasperated. Anxious, uneasy, nervous, tensed-up, worried, and pissed-off with life. Solutions are unavailable, and ten-minute visits from different Carers eliminate them from solving anything. The problems remain, despite my begging Wardens, Carers & anyone daft enough to listen to me, for help. None of the situations and or issues that were deemed fit to torment me today were my fault. (Well, maybe the tumble – but that was well-timed, the only bit of good luck I had all day, I think. Carer Ejaz rescued me again. Got me  up with a struggle) Usually, they crop up when there is no help available from a Carer or Warden.

The farce with the laundry is representative of what I mean. Carer Ejaz arrived for the one extended visit of the week. Getting me back on my feet from the tumble was his first job. Still, at this point, we did have a laugh between us. No injuries, just aching back and a bruise on my hand, neither of which was of any significance. (By night I was thinking the same thing about me, sad innit?)
Ejaz took the laundry, got it in the washer and returned to make some phone calls for me. He used my mobile, which is going to cost me. Carer Nimra uses her phone, which charges me by the minute or part of a minute. The first call he made for me was to the Audio Centre. To make an appointment for me on Wednesday, so I can take a Carer with me. He found out that they are only open for 3 days a week now, not including Wednesdays! He received a recorded message stating that they are only open to patients on Mondays, Tuesdays & Thursdays. So, since he failed to make an appointment through no fault of his own, I’ll have to go on my own if we ever make one. I hope I get knocked down on the way, then Mr Pensioner-Hating Starmer can be thanked for his failed promises to ‘mend the NHS’, and he may be able to give himself another notch for another pensioner killed, who couldn’t hear the electric car that killed him. Come to think of it, waiting for the Glaucoma operation, I wouldn’t see it either. 
I digressed there.
Ejaz went down and moved the washing into the dryer. I returned and asked him to mop the kitchen and wet room for me. Which he did, in a fashion.
He sorted the medication drawer and went down to collect the laundry. He returned, saying it was still wet, too wet, and his time was up. Telling me to tell the 17:00hr Carer to collect it then.
No way, I’ve lost laundry twice before that I left in a machine. My fault, I’d forgotten on both occasions that it was still doyen there. Carer Ejaz shot off.
I stopped what miserable bit of blogging that I’d done and made a brew. 35 minutes later, I painfully hobbled down to the laundry room to investigate.
My clothes were in the dryer, tumbling away. I returned to the flat to find it had 25 minutes left to run. Drank my cold tea, used the Porcelain Throne.

I went back down the 13 floors in the lift to check on the dryer again. The dryer was still churning. I stopped it, opened the door, and the clothes were still wet through and cold! Grrr!
I couldn’t put it in the other dryer because someone else had already used it.
Back up to the flat. 40 minutes later, I frustratedly returned to move my clobber into the other machine. But, No! A different load of clothes was now in the dryer. So, I stayed down in the laundry room. To make sure this did not happen again. An hour later, the dryer was still running. Carer Nimra came into the lobby, admitted by some garden workers.

Luckily, I’d left the door open, and saw her walking by talking to the young men, and called out, else she would have gone my way and up to the flat, which would cause even more complications. I explained the situation, and she took out the dry clothes from the dryer and threw mine into it. And we poddled up to the flat. Medications issued. Telling me she had had a bad day too. Six minutes later, she was off.

I went down to keep an eye on the dryer, in case someone else took mine out. A chap came in, and I told him about the first dryer being kaputt. But he still put his things in it and tried to get it to work. He was keen for me to take mine out so he could use dryer two. I foolishly took out my clothes, finding they were not thoroughly dried by a long shot.

I was spitting blood by the time I waited for the dryer, then feeling a fool for taking it out early to appease the grunting chap. I was too tired and tense, and with no time to spare, I could only manage a bit on the blog post! I got even more agitated and swore a lot when I got into the flat and found the slippers still soaked, and all the clothes needed hanging to dry all over the place. The wet room, kitchenette, hallway, and the already filled slow-airer.

Full of angst, weary, and tired out, I managed to get some food sorted, a stew cooked in the microwave.

Sat down to watch some TV to unwind, and fell deeply asleep. Shooting away at 04:00hrs, with the TV still on, the remote balancing on my man breasts, and bile coming up through my throat.

So many other things happened today. Good stuff in the morning! But, I’m so far behind again. And cannot read the sparse notes I’ve put in the memory pad.
I’ll have to sort the SD card and any photos I might have taken in the morning, in hopes of jiggling my memory of them into action.


Urine 4.5 level

Waking up time, Humph!

I very nearly made the bed!

Taken from the computer chair

Terrible kitchen view shot

Car park in the drizzle

Two khagules to hand wash

Hung them to dry in the wet room

Much bleeding gums

Memory pad & mug of tea

The rain stopped

Whoops, started again!

Carer Ejaz arrived. If I’d known what
lay ahead, I wouldn’t have let him in.

The following six hours of misery, I’ve got out of the way earlier in the blog.

The red car is back on the chevrons.

I’m not sure how I managed to make this meal.
I had a few mini-seizures while making it. I’d put a potato in the slow-cooker about nine hours earlier and forgot about it. A can of beef stew, garden peas, chick peas, Gung Po sauce, mushroom ketchup, pickled gherkins & beetroot were added, and finally, the potato was cut up. Then everything was mixed together. Microwaved it for six minutes. No mess in the kitchen in the morning!
Another mystery: How did I not burn any food or myself, cut myself, drop anything, or remember this bit of the cooking when other things are blank? The notepad writing looks like shorthand again. 

Another messy, spirit-sapping, farcical day.
I’m not sorry it went away!

Inchie Today: Tuesday 19th August 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
How can one cope in old age?
With your infected brain, you cannot assuage,
Neurotransmitters prevent anchorage…
You may get a brain haemorrhage,
And mistake a hostage for a sausage?
Wine, tea, or water tastes like any beverage
The same as lettuce, garlic or cabbage,
You’ll get a regular bladder & bowel blockage, 
The next day, each will have a floodage!
Your IQ will suffer near-fatal damage,
Into the past, your mind will carucage,
You’ll not understand it; this mental carnage,
Be a soft target for hustling or chantage,
When you die, you may leave just coinage,
Every day needs pain tolerance & courage,
Ask how you became this physical wreckage?
Know the nurses by name at your triage,
Reality & fantasy will soon start to merge,
You’ll wee-wee whenever you get the urge,
Your leaking catheter may again surge?
Lose interest in sex & carnal knowledge,
You’ll never understand how to mailmerge,
Amazed at how you coped with life’s voyage!

Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be…
That could be a phrase dedicated to Inchie…
Take good & bad, calmly and uncomplainingly?
Treat both extremes, impassively, unemotionally?
Avoid sulking, emotion; Don’t respond delinquently.
Bad as it is, worse will come eventually,
Cope with fate, as you grow elderly…
Laugh, smile, care not, adopt faux-longanimousity,
Mental blockages, bad luck, injuries 100, good luck 1.3,
So many medications are taken diurnally,
Things you did dynamically, now done dysfunctionally,
Decisions taken determinedly, but now dithery,
Lack of concentration makes you act lackadaisically,
Teatime each day, you tire, meet sleep unresistingly,
You’ll fall into sleep, dreamingly…
Your Carer or Nurse wakes you up successfully…
Shouting in your ear, “Yo’ alright? Can yer hear me”?
“Oh, fine, thanks!” you say stroppily!
Then she goes and beats you again at Monopoly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Got up at 02:45hrs. I got so carried away with doing the Odes, and with another prolonged seizure (Albeit the after-effects of the long ones seem to be less bothersome than the mini ones), I just ran out of time to get much else done. I don’t want to fall so far behind with my blog again. Although I no doubt will. The neurologist, dentists, and audiologist appointments may be finalised this or next week. I don’t know how long they will be for, but I have to give a week’s notice for ordering lifts.

Carer Nimra tried to ring the Dentist about my appointment time and date confirmation, but there was no answer. I believe I may have made an Arithmaphobia error and put it on the calendar for yesterday. But we could not get through to them on Monday or today. Carer Ejaz, who accompanied me on the last appointment, believes the next one was scheduled for January, but Muggin’s here has it listed on the wrong date. They usually send an email or text to remind me.    
The more urgent telephone calls needed are: one to the Audio Clinic to book an appointment, preferably on a Wednesday, and one to Easy Link community buses, to book a lift both ways. But we do need 7 days’ notice, so even if they have an earlier cancellation, I can’t take it.

Now the computer is playing up on me again.
A quicky this time. No time for any more writing.
I’ll try to get the photos on. What few there are.

Sugar!
CorelDraw just crashed!

Balcony right end of the woods, and the rain is pouring down. Taken through the window.

Same area, down to the car park.
Is that the chevron parker’s car?

Four hours later, Carer Ejaz took a snap of me on his mobile and emailed it to me. Thank you.

Gone dark again, still raining.

Still dark at 0800hrs.

The mist is coming down now. 17:00hrs.
The weariness of the long day arrived.

Furry Of The Week 
Spunk
Mr Price’s Cat Clowder Leader.
Mind you, they are all individuals, and gorgeous.

FOOD TIME!
Worayafink?
Hehehe!

¡Hasta La Vista!

Inchie Today: Monday 18th August 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Some things contractable, may be pleasurable,
I recall Suzanne, Grizelda and Mabel,
Take care getting your feet under the table,
Beware of disparity, that’s over-respectful,
Disease, bad habits and greed can be contaigable,
Starmer’s all three, yet he keeps out of trouble,
Is there no one who can burst his bubble?
Keirs bent, a liar, but where is the decrial?
How does he remain inextirpable?
To truth, morals, honesty; he’s extrinsical
I think they may like him at Arsenal,
His promises, principles & odd eschewal…
He escapes justice by being cleverly fissilingual,
Decent people consider him to be a furuncle,
Full of infection, like a toothache or a gumboil,
Hostage, sausage, unintelligible,
Once a barrister, so versed in being liable…
Falsifying, jury-misleading, vilificational,
He told the plain truth once, it was unintentional,
As PM, he is unstoppable, uncontrollable…
He does as he likes, he’s ungainsayable,
I think he should be censurable,
Each decision he takes makes someone miserable,
If he contracted a painful disease, groinal…
I wouldn’t be so hypocritical…
If he snuffs it, hodiernal…
Citizens’ happiness would be eternal!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Will disasters, worries, concerns, seizures, my ailments, lousy luck, mental problems, eyesight, hearing, loneliness, sarcasm, hatred of Starmer, my Virgin Media computer, and mobile and telephone problems ever ease off, relent?
That was a daft question!

Woke at 04:30hrs: The feet needed a soak in soap and some Dettol. Carried out the early Health Checks. BP had gone down a lot.

I took a leisurely paced trip to the wet room to carry out the needs of my phooey body. The Porcelain Throne session produced no movement again. I’ll have some of the Pakistani vegetable curry later; the last time I had it, I ended up with four trips to the Porcelain Throne the following day.
The shaving went fantastically. Just one cut on the neck. The scab on the head wound dropped off.  
Shaving in a bowl of water nearly turned into a calamity when I slipped while getting out. I lunged for the sink to steady myself and avoided a tumble. I banged my wrist doing so, and I put some Germolene on it later. To be right, it was another decent morning for the ailments. Anne Gyna had returned, but Duodenal Donald and Arthur Itis’ knees were no hassle. Cartilage Chloe threatened to give way on me in the afternoon, but I survived unfallen. Haha!
I think I took the ablutions too early to find out if the computer would work when I boot it up.

From the balcony, I took shots of the views.
Above is my beloved Tree Copse.
Then, the end of the car park was snapped. Usual parking from the little red car.
Down from the window.

Getting seated at the computer, I took this shot. It was my knees under the colourful thin Kaghoule that I’d decided to try.
Carer Ejaz arrived before I could try out the computer. He issued the medications and checked those delivered yesterday, or possibly Saturday. If not, Friday. He put on my diabetic socks. He was a smidge late coming, so he didn’t have time for me to tell him about the need for phone calls to be made. The dentist, audio clinic and Dentist.
A nice lad. Took the waste bag with him.

Another fail!

Then on the computer. I can’t believe it was working. Mind you, it was very slow. But working! I spent four hours trying to catch up on yesterday’s blog, but it was a real mental workout. Carer Nimra arrived.
I asked if she could make the phone calls to the three places. I explained that if I don’t contact them to cancel tomorrow’s appointment, they will still charge me. She rang Easy Link. Nimra confirmed that medical appointment lifts need 7 days’ notice.
But she didn’t have time to rig the Audio centre, or the Dentists. And Ejaz was unable to. I suspect that I’m going to get a £50 bill from the dentist’s. Unless Nimra can ask the ICC (Inner City Carers) office to try to get in touch. It’s too late now anyway, I’ve got to give 24 hours’ notice. Grangnagles!

I scuffed my leg against the potato drawer.
Minutes later, the friendly District Nurse arrived. She checked the leg, which was now covered in a new plaster. Inspected and passed my back passage, declaring it was okay now. And adjusted the catheter contraption. She didn’t seem too concerned about the recent rises in the BP returns. So, I’m not. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. I tried to explain about the situation with the phone calls about Easy Link, the Audio Centre and the Dentist. Then… as Ejaz went to take off the diabetic socks…
He was disgusted to see the leg, pouch straps, and sleeve covered in urine. I apologised as best I could; it’s not very pleasant for anyone to sort out. But he did, and readjusted things afterwards. Bless him. How the urine escaped was obvious; the release valve was in the open position. I’m struggling more than ever. Making mistakes, I’ve not done before, repeatedly.
I fear that I am getting closer and closer to being moved into a home of some sort.

If I had some extra care hours, it would definitely help. But the cost would be beyond my means.

I made a meal, and sank as I did it, into an even Deeper Darius state. I was doing things automatically. My mind is musing over so many other things that are beyond my capabilities, coming at the same time.

I didn’t make it into bed. About 00:00hrs, I fell asleep in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Shooting awake to find it was 03:15hrs. Immediately, Thought-Storming-Steve burst into life, not the slightest chance of getting back to the land of nod.
Concerns, worries, & fears matured and stewed…

TTFN

Inchie Today: Sunday 17th August 2025 Arrrgh!

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – NOT A GOOD END TO THIS WEEK! – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
More computer problems, yet again,
With Seizures, mental and physical pain,
Frustration inflames my damaged brain,
Silly thoughts & depression I can’t restrain,
My thoughts; silly ones don’t appertain…
No desire, willpower, but maybe to deign,
Dementia atop, Haemorrhoids astern,
Rear-end evacuations like an aquafarm,
Each day I’m at risk of mental harm,
Sanity, I’ve had to quitclaim,
Mind control, I cannot relearn,
Social life, I just can’t reclaim,
My right leg’s skin is rhagadiform,
While humankind becomes more suzerain,
We have dishonest Starmer as our PM,
A bent liar, a schelm and skelm,
Leading the UK, sort of somatoform,
I cannot discern, understand or secern.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

0315hrs: A great start, despite the high SYS. Night pouch taken off. Remarkable absence of Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, Arthur Itis, Earache Erasmus, Depression Darius, & Back  Pain Brenda. A few playing up, though, Cartilage Chloe, Toothache Tiffany, and Balance-Lost-Belinda. After the computer cock-up the Mood Ratio finished at the end of the long day, as shown here on the right. 

Got the Health Check gear ready.

Took two snaps of the extra blue sky.

Clock changed.

Kitchen View.

TREBLE TROUBLE
Suspected Boll-Weevil on screen.

And on a kitchen towel.
ARRGH!

Then things got worse…
ARRGH!
A BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH.
A few minutes later, CorelDraw came back on.
Swiftly displaying a complicated list of processors in action. No idea what it meant.I waited for the processing to stop.
It took about an hour.

Then…No idea why.

Then…
I had to lefy… lefy? No, I’m hoping I can find a way to turn off the computer. The keyboard & mouse were not working.

I gave up and had to unplug the computer. I wasn’t feeling up to finding the bad news, so I left for two more hours. When Carer Mirza arrived, he told me to unplug again and leave it for at least an hour.
So, I did.
Put the computer back on, and apart from everything going stuttery and in slow motion, it did let me open the CorelDraw package. But the mousse would not work, and then it stopped letting me type anything. Next, it froze altogether.
I left it alone and opened the internet again.
I went to WordPress to see if that was working. I started typing, and when I hit the period, the less-than sign showed… and filled my WordPress with them. I dare not try to show you, just in case. I shut it down in the proper way.

Turned it back on 65 minutes later.
As the windows opened, brief flashes of technical information appeared, followed by the opening screen. I daren’t not use it, and closed it in the usual fashion, and cried.
This may be the end.

I took a snap of the evening, showing what looked like a bit of the moon in the sky.

Then made a meal.
I was halfway through eating this when I realised I’d not pictured it. So, I did.
The Pernicus sausages were okay. I added pickled beetroot chunks, yellow, red & brown tomatoes, pickled red onions & cabbage. The Copernicussausages (hostages if Starmer is reading) were 200g each.

= = = = = = = = = = = =
I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. Concerned that the computer may be in a narky mood in the morning and will not let me write this blog.

Huh, then I got flow-back pains from the catheter.
Took me yonks to get it right.
This delay made it even harder to fall asleep. Which I did, around 0230hrs.

= – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – =
FAIR THEE ALL WELL!
= – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – =

Inchie Today: Saturday 16th August 2025

/ Inchie / 20 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I used to know what I needed, wanted to do,
Be it involving a romantic rendezvous…
Or to throw a party, dance or a chanoyu,
Buy a Fiat, Skoda, Ford or a Subaru…
I’ve owned each of these in the past, too…
Oh, and of course my 4-wheel drive Diahatsu,
What to cook for my meal, not cordon bleu,
Roast or baked potatoes, or a beef & veg stew?
Or battered Haddock & fishcakes would do,
Buy it on the web, high street or at a vendue?
If it were never-never land, Utopia, or Xanadu,
A cat, a dog, a hamster, a hawk or a sucuruju?
Nowadays, the only thing guaranteed is a snafu!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

10:10hrs Sunday: Forgive the smiling photo of Inchy welcoming you to the blog… I’m so happy at this moment, despite it being Sunday morning and a late start to this catching-up blog. I feel blessed. My best friend is back. The best gift I rarely have nowadays is here with me. No logical reasoning why; Nothing has changed from yesterday’s gloominess in any way. But I woke up with Horis, and he’s still with me. I just love the ‘Sod-’em-all’ attitude Horis brings me. I can’t get into this mode myself, but surely Horis is myself in a warped way, must have assisted me to get in this blissful, albeit liable to dissipate as unexpectedly as he arrived.
But why can’t I bring it on when needed?
I’ve no control of it at all… well, maybe I could learn some Wicker-Tricks. I’m so far behind with the blog, it hurts. Got the new medical procedures to be monitored by a Carer. The bloody shaving, shower, and medications cost me over two hours. Teeth & gums bleeding. New growths on the leg. I’m baffled as to why I feel like this, yet bloody glad I do! I’m writing this now because I might forget to add it later.

The computer went down. I’ll add this to Sunday’s blog if I ever get it started. Got to finish this one before it freezes on me again. Using snaps to save time, sorry for the lack of or poor details.
Farewell sweet .

Health Checks were monitored by Carer Nimra.
BP High again!

Dry crinkly skin

Iceland
Food!

Amazing evening sky

Amazing evening meal!
At last, I cooked some cheesy baked potatoes that came out just as I like them. Gorgeous!

Have to stop here, keyboard problems now.

Spent three hours trying to get the computer to work, but I wasn’t typing well. The mouse was super sticky, so I changed batteries in both the mouse and keyboard. All closed and off, left it for an hour. Retried while Carer Miarza was visiting. Working in a fashion. At least temporarily. Don’t be surprised if this is the end of Inchie. Can’t cope.

TTFN.

Inchie Today: Friday 15th August 2025

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
There are several things, of which I am abstinent,
But certainly not returning anything that I have lent,
Weaknesses, too, like I’ve consistently overspent,
Sold my house, flat costs a fortune to rent,
Of course, I was fit then, as an adolescent,
I’ve had the odd medical adornment,
Now, in old age, surviving can be a torment,
My flat feels like a place of internment,
Ideas, plans, hopes become a delirifacient,
My body & brains sees too much inaction,
Hard to see & hear, and I’m glabrescent,
Yet at times, I feel so terribly content…
Aware of myself as being a totipotent!
Carers’ and nurses’ visits seem so transient…
But at each one, I get all besottent!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Five Porcelain Throne visits
The first one, a Constipation Kondrad, was another long, painful struggle to evacuate the two gigantic, almost cube-shaped projectiles. The next four were the reverse: Trotsky, Terence, and Torrents. I suspect it was prompted by my eating the Vegetable Pickle, which tasted gorgeous. Maybe this was the payback – I expected the Trots, but no.

Ablutions were carried out. Along with the medicationings, these took over two hours to complete. The shaving and teeth cleaning were bloody affairs. Teeth, gums, cuts on the neck, and after the Trotsky visit, the bum was bleeding a little too much. My right leg top had some extraordinary markings, spots, bruises, & DVT veins showing on it that I’d not noticed before. So much, I photographed it for posterity.

Carer Nirma arrived: Urine graded. Body checks done. Diabetic socks fitted. Health Checks, temperature, blood test & levels were monitored. The BP was high, but it came down on the second reading.

Back to the blog, catching up.

Matron Jackie phoned again. See how things were going. Something about the falls team, or was that yesterday? The paragraph below reveals all.

Unfortunately, this morning (Saturday), I got into what can only be called a mega-pickle with all the day’s memory notes. I’d got mixed up entirely between the three blogs I was working on. 
Vainly thinking, I’d sort them out into three lots, one for each of the days. Not wanting to get more confused, I thought I had torn up Thursday’s notes. However, when I started Saturday’s template and then returned to Friday’s to update, I realised I hadn’t actually done so. It was Friday’s notes that had been ripped to shreds!

It had been such a fair morning up to now.

Bile threatened to come up from my innards. Self-lambasting, Self-hatred & I foolishly ground my teeth at my stupidity. I had to use the Toothache Spray and took an extra 30 mg of Codeine. 
The pains and ailments were introduced into Inchy’s world. Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald mainly.

Then, things went really ape-shit!
Saturday morning, doing this catch-up, and was blessed by Satan again. I must have hit the wrong key combination, as I went into a mini-seizure. When I came out of it, the keyboard and mouse were not working at all. I went on CorelDraw to find the same, but I couldn’t get back to this because the computer froze. A blue screen then a black screen appeared, back to a blue screen, and as CorelDraw opened again, I had the mouse busy thingamajig on screen for around ten minutes. During that time, I was preparing for the worst and was on the verge of tears.
The busy sign turned back to an arrow, and when I tried selecting artwork, I could not do so individually. It selected other things as well.
Now, enough was enough. I was still in a haze after the seizure, and as this cleared, I tried to remember what I was doing when it went bonkers on me.
I figured out I was in WordPress, and I went to the gallery by using the shortcut keys Shift-Alt-M.
I assume I hit a nearby key in error.
Reigned to failure, and thinking, ‘Well, it can’t make things any worse; I tapped, in quick mode, Shift, then Ctrl, Windows, then the Alt keys once each.
The Zoom changed to a smaller on-screen. I corrected it in the 3-dots top right, and bugger me… It was working again! UP TO NOW, anyway.
I absolutely refused to allow myself to go into Smug-Mode. My history forebade me.
I’m aware of the succubus, incubus or gremlin that is ever-ready to drop a Whoopsiedangleplop or Accifauxpa in my path.

I got back to trying to piece together Friday’s notes to make them readable. No chance.
So, guesstimates follow. Not many.

Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation!.

Erm… Er… Carers Nirma, Miza and Ejaz attended.

Back to Friday.
Good job that I took these memory-prompting snaps.
I was on the balcony, and saw the Asda van.
Only two carrier bags were filled. But I had ordered even more spring water to add to the stacks of it I already had in stock.
The stock consisted of various bottles of spring water, soda water, and a few cans of Soda and Grapefruit. Not cheap, I like to use them to add to the water sometimes, to give it a bit of welcome flavouring.
All my favourites were ordered. Do you see the size of Podwawelska sausages in packs of two? They dwarf the two 480g cans of Beef stew. This is the first time I’ve found & bought these. A bottle of Mushroom ketchup, and the teeth-testing but tasty Twiglets.

Blog Updating.

I missed a call on the new old-fogies mobile.
When Carer Mirzra came, he investigated the ins & outs of the Settings.
He rang from his own mobile, and Wallah! It came with a ringtone that I could hear! He then rang the mobile on the landline, and that had the same hearable chime! Thanks, Mizra!

The Chemists 4U delivery has not arrived yet. But yesterday I got these on order from Asda. Pleaded to get some Odour Eaters.


Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation! Unfortunately, I had a follow-through that made a mess and took ages to clean up!

I did the afternoon Health Checks. Carer Mizra checked them. The SYS was below the HYPER level, operating on Normal High.

Meal of the Day!
Chip-Shop oven chips, three different colours of tomatoes, vegetarian sausages, with sliced, unbuttered  Milk Roll bread. It was a highly passable meal, but it would have been better if not for the Linda McCartney tasteless sausages.

Carer Ejaz made just the one call again. I’m wondering why he seems to be prevented from calling on me and just doing the one late call.
Not that either of the other two regulars doesn’t do a decent job. They do.

After-meal sunset shots.
Distant.
Then a zoomed-in shot.

It was more than a good job that I had the photographs to remind me. Even though I’d got them all out of sync in the gallery.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
🤎 Take Care, Each! 🤎
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =