Reflux valve – Page 15

Imp Inchy: Wednesday 26th June 2024

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I jerked awake and spotted the Gh, so colourful dollop of urine in the catheter this morning!
I got the night pouch disconnected from day one.
I pulled the soft plastic drainer tube off at the same time. Tsk! I didn’t realise this initially because I needed to visit the Porcelain Throne urgently!

I hobbled to the wet room, which took me longer than I thought. The ankle lesions and ulcers were giving me some grief, accompanied by regular electric shocks up the leg. Cartilage Chloe gave way a couple of times when I started limping, but she didn’t have me over this time. I knew this was going to be a painful day.
I swear it was slower and more painful than yesterday’s double torpedo evacuation was. A deeper shade poo in the basin, when flushed, stubbornly refused to go down to the sewer. Luckily, with my record of going between Constipation Conrad and Trotsky Terence so often, I keep some bamboo sticks to break it up in the wetroom, along with the speed-mop had it been Trotsys Terence’s turn, to tackle the excrement problems. It worked a treat; with a second twist of the handle and a loud regurgitating noise, it disappeared. Gorrit!

The Asda delivery arrived.
A pleasant driver put the food into my bags for me. That was a kind gesture, and I appreciated it very much. Thank you, driver! Four items were unavailable, and two had increased in price.
I started sorting out the products. My gorgeous lemon tartlets, bicarbonate of soda, milk, and Milk Roll sliced bread.
Lemon mousse, lemon yoghourts, No-Butter Butter (I think this tastes so delicious), meat pies, Lamb Patties (Carer Chris loves these), and Mūllers Lemon & Cream desserts.
Lamb-burgers (Richard likes these). And some potato chunks.
There was room for more after getting the fresh stuff in the fridge! Rare, that is.

I put some drinks in the fridge so the Carers and nurses can have a cold in this warm weather. I sorted the waste bags into one and placed them near the front door.

Carer Richard arrived.
Telling me off for calling Putin. Pointing out the things the West have done over the years. Hehehe! After he’d gone, I got on the computer and soon felt a warm, wet liquid running into my slippers.
The plaster the nurse put on yesterday was leaking bodily fluids. The burn and ulcer were leaking again. Humph!
I dried it as much as I could. It was difficult bending down so far, and Dizzy Dennis paid a visit. I cut some bandages from the roll, hoping to seal the leak, and thought I’d put them over the sterile pad. Of course, I used tape to hold them in place.
After ten minutes on the computer, the whole thing fell off the ankle and leg! I just put more tape on it, but it didn’t help. Still, a nurse is coming back on Friday.

Carer Kara called next, with Trainee Carer Sham. It was the Financial call she was making at the same time. She gave me medications and applied cream under my arms and man breasts. Haha! Kara also saved the day over the lost catheter tube end. She took one off of the spare too-long day catheter and put it on to this day catheter. Then, Kara helped me with the three problems I’d been whittling over with messages and emails. I couldn’t follow what she was doing, but it only took ten minutes from start to finish; three worries were solved. Greattt!

I’d better get some nosh made, then. I’ll take a Kodak Tim shot of the view first. Then, I can concentrate on the cooking and not burn myself. Maybe…

Two baked potatoes were halved with added non-butter butter, black pepper, and sea salt. Milk Roll sliced bread, sufficient to use one for each vegetarian sausage, to be wrapped in and dunked in the tomato sauce with pickle, pot. (Am I making you puke or hungry?) A pot of lemon mousse to follow. I even considered having some salt & vinegar crisps afterwards, but of course, my dedication to the doctor’s list of what to not eat is, as you know, sacrosanct to me, so I didn’t have any . Well… I only had one tub. (Ahem!)

After washing the pots, I swiftly hit the sack and drifted off into what I thought was a deep sleep. When Carer Israel woke me up, I knew it had to be a deep sleep because I hadn’t been woken by the door chime. And was only half aware of events or happenings. I recall feeling guilty and telling Israel to pick a nibble and drinkie as he left.

Zzzz! Back into the land of nod within seconds of Israel leaving. But it was not the deep sleep I love so much but rarely get; it was back to shooting awake every few minutes, reminded of my failings, ailments, Whoopsiedangleplops, mistakes, errors, and so on that I’ve done over so many years by . He was so persistent and almost nasty with it that I got up and meandered around the flat, half-asleep. But discovered in the morning that I’d taken these Kodak Tims. Although they seem a little light, I presume I may have taken them earlier in the day.
His disturbing fault-finding onslaught continued within minutes of my getting back to sleep.
But, of course, it wasn’t Steve at all. It was mind-immigrants and an extension of their mind-control techniques, which I assume indicates that I was doing it all the time. I didn’t realise I could be so cruel to myself. I am not to others.

I only got two.
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May any darknesses you have turn to heliotrope!

Impecunious Inchy: Tuesday 25th June 2024

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Sleep was initially no problem last night… Now, staying asleep was a horse of a different colour! I lost count of the times I detonated and burst into wakefulness! Although it was the most prolonged overnight period of skip that I’d had for a long time, I reckon actual sleeping amounted to a couple of hours at most. It was not a good start to the day; again, it worsened.
Humph!
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0545 hrs: I stirred, realising I was not lying in bed (I can be quick sometimes, Hehe!).. It only brought back last night’s farcical, demented, horrible series of calamities and Whoopsiedangleploppery to mind.
I offered up a quick prayer for things to get better today. The plea was not directed at any God, Devil, Witch, Oligarch, Compassionate alien, Sorcerer, Wizard, Soothsayer, or medical practitioner who could help me.

THE WET ROOM FARCE: There was not much hope or effort put into the plead for help, but it was something to do while I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne, awaiting Constipation Conrad to release the first of the morning’s two torpedoes. He fooled me completely this time. The first grindingly slow concrete submarine edged its way painfully out and plonked, with a clunk, into the WC waters. Relief flooded over me! A smile was almost coming over my face in thanks for completing the task at last and me getting rid of the associated pains!
However, a second missile assault developed that almost shot itself out of my rear end. It was quick, but I wasn’t prepared for the extra shot of pain it brought on. Tears developed. True!
When I saw the blood everywhere, I grabbed onto and I stood up. It was almost a major operation getting everything cleaned up and medicated! Both cartilages, the ankle ulcer and even Arthur Itis, kicked off simultaneously.
This made me nervous. I was in the wet room, so I decided to get the ablutions done immediately. One cut shaving, no shower, and teggies were done. Next, medicating various parts was needed, which went reasonably well. Even the shaving cut was soon stopped.
Then, the real challenge: getting into the Protection pants!
It was easier to lift my right foot through the leg hole. It hurt, but I laughed it off, knowing the left one would be the most painful. I was right, too. But I didn’t think I was going to take a tumble. I was wrong on that, too! I tried resting the bum in the corner behind the door. This usually helps. (I was wrong about it this time), I used Picker-Upperer-Petal to move the PPs out so I could lift the left foot with the right hand to get it in the pants left hole… are you following this? Hehe!
During this, I noticed that the urine flowing from the Bladder to the Pouch looked awfully red. That was my mistake, taking my mind off of the challenge. I can’t explain how I managed to take the tumble, landing against the shower chair. I limped to the recliner on all fours, making the ulcer leak more and hurting the ingrowing toenails and cartilage. Chloe and Carole protested the only way they knew how to… giving me such pain that only agony would fit it.
Getting back on my feet was probably more painful than all the other incidents. Yes, it was!
I painfully put on the dressing gown and slippers. I was pondering whether I should have a brew of tea or not when ‘Oh Susan’ chimed from the door chime.
Carer Richard arrived. He didn’t particularly like the state of Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich or the red and, as he put it, under the man- breasts. Hahaha! He told me not to wear a dressing gown, so I wore a tee shirt. It’s not the prettiest view for anyone calling on me. Bearing the catheter’s paraphernalia. He asked if I had any pyjama bottoms to put on. I was surprised he’d forgotten I can’t get trousers, socks or shoes on or off without help nowadays. He left a note on the whiteboard for someone to call the Doctor and District Nurses about the ulcer and ankle blotches later.

came with a new Carer, Sash, I think her name was. No, it was Sham. Kara was training up the new gal. She checked the catheter and called the Doctors about the red patches underarm and, as Richard said, Men-Boobs. Hahaha! She said I am to keep on with the Terbinafine cream for the arms and titties. Then she looked at the leg swelling, ulcers, and new growths. Then she called the District Nurse’s place. They will be sending a Community Nurse to look at them later on.

A few PN electric shocks joined the ulcers and swellings, bothering me.
It’s an excellent job that the Cartilages have both calmed down somewhat. I may well regret saying that, of course.

Carer Christopher arrived. He gave me some Peptac and a painkiller and looked at the state of the legs with the dressing now on the ulcer. And got carried away with Kodak Timing them all.

Chris noted that new growth was coming up in the left leg.

Then, that the padded plaster was not sealed and was leaking fluids. He soon put that right for me as well. I think he just enjoyed giving me pain, Hehe!

Were increasing in frequency now.
Chris put some ointment on the Man-Breasts and underneath each of my arms. He’s a good lad! And he likes his treats, too. I gave him his choice of a cold drinkie from the fridge, and his pockets secured some nibbles.

I’d better get some food sorted before the England match on TV. I’ll be back later, probably in the morning.

Good Morning! I got it wrong again. The England match is tomorrow (tonight). But no! A double cock-up from Inchie! I got the dates wrong again. And the Doctor told me my getting Arithmaphobia is not the end of the world! England’s match was on, and apart from not realising it, I also slept through and missed the other matches! Grumph! Grump! Gragnagles!

MEAL COCK-UP! I thought I ought to have some of the Air Fry crinkle chips I ordered in error months ago to make room in the freezer. So I did. I threw the rest of them away afterwards. Amazingly, some tasted okay, and others were too hard to cope with my lack of teeth.
Then it dawned on me… I’d cooked them in the oven! It could happen to anyone, of course. But the odds of it being me must be very short!

I took this evening’s view, complete with blotches. Slightly miffed with myself.

I nodded off into sweet, Thought-Storming-free, precious oblivion. Although were not letting up, particularly the right ankle with the burst ulcer on it, Carer Chris did the last call. Chris seemed keen to get home, bless him, and not to disturb me too much. So he sorted me out in the darkness and put some tape on the wadding on the ulcer that had already come off and leaked the fluid all over my foot during the kip.

I found it in two seconds!

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TTFNski, Folks!

Impetuous Inchy: Thursday 20th June 2024 – Things ain’t wot they used to be!

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Today, I have been physically and mentally pilloried, pummelled, and harangued.
This selfie on the left is one of two taken on Friday morning of a freshly bathed, medicated, shaved, and totally well… stupefied, confused or baffled Inchy. Who, in his wisdom or lack of it, somehow found himself in the wet room, stopped the bleeding haemorrhoids, and started preparing the even meal. This was at about 07:00hrs!
Things did not get much better, and this blog was started 8 hours later than usual. This meant a lack of sleep again, as I worked until the morning and still hadn’t finished it! Grrr! What an abject idiot! I’ll have to skip bits, or I’ll never get time to do Friday’s blog. An Inchy Quickie, short on detail affair then. Sorry!

The legs were hurting.
Seem to have acquired a dent in the electric shock leg?

Dark and stinky when emptied!

As opposed to…
A bloodied evacuation.

Had to sort the boxes that the fodder and Amazon stuff unexpectedly arrived in yesterday.

Off to the wet room.

Foolishly, I prepared the meal hours and hours too early.
Still, when I got it, it was okay; it was warmed up and reheated.

Three deliveries arrived by teatime.

I didn’t!

Sorry, there’s not much in this one, you see…
This was primarily down to me…
I may not be able to voluntarily pee,
And be in agony, with the arthritic knee…
With both cartilages hurting, Carole and Chloe!
Having double vision, from Cataract Katie,
I can no longer cope with things, arithmetically!
I accept I am surviving, sadly, pathetically!
But find it easy-peasy to lose my memory!
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Fair Thee All Well!

TTFNski!

Irked Inchy: Wed 19 June 24 Claptickleisations and Gragnangles! Humph!

Today was filled with terrible commotion,
Before it started, I was in a state of confusion,
A stampede of furore, causing profanation,
I was left depressed and in delirium…
Here follows my sad, uneducated explanation!

I managed to sleep 10 minutes overnight, but I was tired out, and getting up was a fight. The urine in the catheter stunk something awful. I visited the wet room W.C., which was controlled by Terence Trosky. One after another, each of the almost square-shaped torpedoes got stuck partway to freedom. I thought this evacuation was somewhat incongruous. (is that the right word?) It was certainly incompatible with Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Made them bleed and gave me some discomfort as well. It’s when they get stuck halfway out that’s the worst bit. Haha!
Initially I was doing well on the blogging graphics. The Kodak seemed to be storing the snaps I’d taken, and as I knew that Carer Cara would call today to sort the Banking and British Gas problems for me, I changed the delivery dates for the Low-Cost Food and Morrisons food deliveries to arrive on Friday instead. Apart from the eyes which were not good, but when are they since I had the failed Cataract operation. I’ve gone back to the start of the waiting list to have them done again. So they can’t do the Glaucoma lasering until they have been done successfully. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to. I was on the waiting list last time for over two-and-a-half years. Humph!

Carer Shaquille arrived, got the socks onto my feet, medicated me, and I insisted he took some nibbles with him.

As I was taking this photo, which I put on here, 22hrs later), the door buzzer buzzed. (It does that. I notice these things!), Hehehe!
The Low-Cost Food delivery I’d altered obviously hadn’t been altered because it had just arrived. This was the start of a series of worrying, frustrating, time-consuming, and unproductive times. It took me ages to unload the boxes and the paper stuffing within them. I topped up the shelves with what had been delivered for the carers and nurses’ drinks and treats. Then, I did the same to the nibbles box on the carers’ table. I got some new lines in today. A white chocolate milky bar was one.
I got the cardboard and paper into a box.

Then I got back to blogging, but not for long! Carer Kara arrived, and she sorted out the Bank Problem easily enough. (It was still a bit of a shock, though, how my balance was dwindling.) But the British Gas problems took the gal all the rest of the hour she had, and we still didn’t have time to ask about the meter reading. I’d never have got it sorted without Kara’s help. She found a contact telephone number from the web, when the link would not work for her. Three times, Kara got the ‘music-while-you-wait’ treatment. Then had to be put through to someone else. Had to go through all the checks again. The man, said Kara, didn’t seem to know what she was talking about. But she had the email on my computer and letters to refer to in her discussions. Finally, the man said the original email was sent to me in error. How? They have my address, email, etc. Kara did not have time to ask them about the meter reading emails. An hour on my phone, wonder how much that is going to cost me? Basically the message come answer was not to worry, ignore them? Thanks, Kara!

Yet another on my behalf! Over the dates. The quack thinks my arithmaphobia is all part and parcel of the FND. Could well be; we may see.

I got the delivery bags opened one or two at a time, and took these photos on the left. Well, I took more, but some did not make it to the Kodak SD card. Sob!
Next weeks, as should have been, Carers & Nurses treats. Jellies, Crisps, Marmite oatcakes. Fresh pod peas. (They didn’t last for long, Yummy!)
Some red and white potatoes for baking, tomatoes and waste bags were put away… wherever I could cram them, really. Tsk! A ready-sliced milk roll loaf and two extra-large Jumbo Haddock chip shop-style battered fishcakes. May have them tonight. Got them in the freezer. I Stopped everything at this point, to shell some of the pod peas for later on.
A mug ot Thompson’s Punjana tea, that went down well. I was a good lad today, despite the piteousness of my actions and getting things so wrong, and being further behind with the flog that I’ve ever been; and in a cruel depression and so confused, I only had one mug of tea all day and night! Smug-Mode-Engaged!

I was giving up on the blog as I was getting so tired, and the Dettol order arrived. Ehicj, they indicated it would be coming on Friday! There’s no end to the confusion, cock-ups, errors, depressions, and sinking spirits!

Tonight’s feast (Albeit while burning my finger again on the oven rack) was prepared. Potato Rostis, battered fishcakes, Fresh pod peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, and chestnut mushrooms.
I got settled into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, smelly, cringingly-beige-coloured, almost-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. With the meal on a plate and tray, feet up on a chair, and a football match on the box, I’d finished of eating the meal, and then I got the pots washed. I took five snaps over the next half an hour, and only the first and last two made it onto the SD card.

I sense that I may have already used this one?

Believe it or not, but, I didn’t get any sleep again. The Thought Storms, mostly self-lambasting over the dates that I’d mix up.
No, that’s not true.
I did get the odd couple of minutes, but I was promptly woken up by and or else .

I got up again to try to get some decent shots of the beautiful night’s view over the next hour or so. I might as well; Sweet Morpheus was not interested, and my mind was going crazy.

Not one of my better days.
And I’m already hours behind on the morning blog. Bet I can’t get started until midnight or later tomorrow. Or whenever… I’m losing track of things here. Which is nowt, new.

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What a Day. Claptickleisations & Gragnangles!

Imposturous Inchy: Saturday 15th June 2024

A brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.

Carer Christopher arrived. Medications were issued, and he fitted the diabetic socks on my legs. He was aghast at the state of the leg ulcers.
So much so that he took these Kodak Tiom shots of the ankles. No wonder I’d had a few extra electric shocks from them overnight. New scabs, spots, etc., and the ankles gave way occasionally over the day. It’s bad enough with & doing their giving-way moments to have me over.

Late morning dawning.

The drizzle continues. The mud-slide develops.

A box of medical equipment arrived via Vyne. I didn’t know what it was, but I assumed it was the catheter items that had been ordered for me.

Hello, the urine’s got a good flow. 400ml.

Over several hours, the rain persisted.
I pressed on with yesterday’s blog update.
I’m frustrated and disheartened by all my usual errors. Talk about working overtime. Grammarly was constantly popping up. I’d put things right, and seconds later, it came up with the same fault and different corrections to choose from.

Still, the urine comes. A smidge darker, and some bits of what I assume were my crumbling prostrate.
Killed by the Finasteride tablets.

Gorgeous evening clouds.

Baked potatoes, tomatoes and red onion. I took this snap of the minimalistic meal. Then, I added some Frazzles to it. I tucked in with more relish than I had been lately. I added sea salt and No butter-butter to the potatoes. Why no meat? You may be asking? That’s because I made some sausages in the microwave and forgot about them. Until I found them in the morning. Humph! It could happen to any idiot, but often, it’s me who forgets. I’ve noticed this! I see a lot of things, you know. But I tend to forget more things that need remembering, more time than not, or should that be done? Erm?

I was washing the pots when the sinking sun suddenly appeared. I fetched Kodak Tim and took these red-eye photographs of the beautiful scene. Mother Nature was at her finest. Unfortunately, the glowing sun scene reminded me of Pucking Putin’s threats!
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Hasta la Vista!

Iriot Inchy: Fri 14 June 2024: Dementia Wins The Day

Carer Joanne did the midday call today, and I was overjoyed when she said the missing prescription had arrived. With no Codeines or Paracetamol in the medicine cupboard, I got myself into another uncalled-for deep semi-panic mode. Joanne called the doctor or chemist to tell them none had been served up. Whoever she spoke to said they could be picked up in the morning. I was fretting over not having anything to counter the carriages, toothache, and catheter tube pains. It was not until Carer Chris arrived at teatime that I realised there were Codeines and Paracetamol on the Carer’s desk. I felt like a proper fool! But I decided to blame it all on Doreen’s Dementia and Cognitive Impairment, Iris, being in charge of my brain today. There’s no denying it: I get things so wrong so often. The doctor knows about it, but does she care or understand? I’m blown if I understand!
My eyes seem to be getting far worse earlier each day. The weather, as of now, at 18:30 hrs (yes, another late start to getting the blogging done!), a few rainy sessions, and being a little gloomy add to the frustration and depression of failure. Another early morning getting to bed. Still, despite all the trials, tribulations, and daily mental and physical trials and errors that haunt and stalk me, I really do love doing this blog and reading others. Time is the snag… well, that and having periods of not knowing what the hell I’m doing, saying, or, at times, thinking! And the annoying and ultra-confusing doesn’t help!
When Chris pointed out the Codeines and Paracetamols in the Caregivers’ medical pot on their table, I felt disgusted with myself for getting it all wrong for a while. I think he was unhappy with me. Rightly so, too.
I’ve waffled again in my self-disgust, better get on.
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03:00 hrs: I bounded up from the bed and did 100 press-ups, 200 toe-touches, and then minutes of shadow boxing. This was followed by… Well, alright then… 03:00 hrs: I reluctantly woke and took off the nocturnal catheter pouch. And hobbled to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne. A messy affair again, all over in seconds, but it took ten minutes to clean myself and WC up after the event. I didn’t have a wash, but a rinse, no shaving done, and the teggies were cleaned. Applied the Terbinafine cream to the tender red armpits. The red eye had all but gone this morning. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were Germoloided. The barrier cream was applied to the lower regions and to my massive, wobbly belly folds.
Both Cartilages were Phorpain gelled, and some Germolene was applied to the ankle ulcer.
No sunshine out yet. Apparently we had little rain overnight, judging by the lack of mudslide in the end car park area. There was much vehicular activity.
It went even darker later on.
I knew the dune was trying to get through, judging by this Kodak Tim blotched photograph from the kitchen, no, balcony.
The intercom chimed out; it was the Low-Cost Food delivery driver; I let him in.
Opened the door a few minutes later, to find the box of nosh in the flat’s foyer. There was not a lot, but it was well-packed.
I opened the boxes and got the nibbles and drinkies out for the nurses and carers.
I put the empty cardboard boxes close to the flat’s doorway.
The cartilage Chloe gave way on me again, but at the best place to do it, in the mini-hallway. Walls within arm’s length to help avoid a tumble, from which it would be so painful to get back up on my feet. Arrgh!
Aha, we had some rain, and the end car park mudslide was soon showing. It’s about time we had a drop of rain, I thought. Little did I know the amount we were going to get shortly!
As you can see, we had a downpour for about an hour or so. Then, it stopped as quickly as it started.

Carer Christopher arrived. He got the diabetic socks on my legs (well, it seemed the logical place to put them, Haha). Did the medicationalisationings. Had drinkie and nibble, and off.

The rain came again on and off over the afternoon.
I took the chance to take a break from the hard work of blogging. Making errors, mistakes, etc., was the easy part of blogging!

Concentration was at a minimum for most of the day… no, for all of the day!
Carer Joanne arrived, bringing the prescriptions that did not come the other day. However, the medical drawer had no Codeines or Paracetamols in it. Joanne rang either the chemist or the doctor for me and told me they would be ready for collection tomorrow. Bless her! Later, when Chris came, he pointed out that there were still some Codeines and Paracetamols in the Carers pot on their table, so there was no need to fetch them tomorrow, as it is not urgent now.
I’d got it all mixed up somehow. I keep doing this, but no one seems to be interested; I need help if I can get it.

I made an order for Asda for next Tuesday. Then went to make a brew of Glengettie tea.
I left the tea bag in the mug to get nice and strong, then got the bamboo stick thingy to stir and remove the tea bag…
I’d like to offer a piece of advice on the Health & Safety aspects of making a brew of tea. I used a bamboo skewer pointed stick to stir the mashing, and you should get a sneeze coming on; it would be better if you put down the stick before covering your nose as one sneezed! Still, the little plaster fitted over the mouth and stopped the puncture from bleeding for me. But it could well have been worse, you know. I may have stuck it up my nose, Hehehe!

I was working in CorelDraw to create some headers. Actually, I was editing a bitmap at the time. ! CorelDraw Crashed Yet Again! I lost all the work done since the last saving! And had to start all over again on the Horoscope graphic! Grrr! Rebooted and got the thingy up to give me my email address and reason for what I was doing when the crash happened. Since getting the new version of CorelDraw, I must have had 20 crashes! I don’t think they even read these messages; they have certainly not replied to any one of them. I looked up who owns CorelDraw nowadays: “In 2019, Corel was acquired by the investment firm KKR and Co and changed its name to Cascade Parent Limited (Oligarchs, fiendish grubstakers, like Liberty-Global?), which trades under the brand name of Alludo. Consequently, the company is still headquartered in Ottawa, Canada”.

The sun actually got through late on in the day, and the previously hidden blue sky peeped through gaps in the clouds. Very pretty!
The rain came again for a while. Stopped, and was on and off for there’s of the night long.
I got a message about the return of an old favourite chocolate bar from Cadbury’s. This is a photo of the 1980s Top Deck as it was before being taken off the market. As I recall, it was a favourite of mine back then. It said the cost at that time was 15p a bar. I wonder what it will cost this time.

The sky was getting darker quickly and sooner tonight, compared to the previous few?

I got around to sorting out the mess on CorelDraw. It took me three hours to get things back to what and where I wanted them again. Humph!

THe last photo after I’d had my nosh. Which I definitely recall taking a photo of… but it has gone off into the ether of the camera again!

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Toodeloo!

Impute Inchy: Monday 10th June 2024

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My body and, more importantly, my mind are in a different state today. I thought my cerebrum was not my own, which, of course, it isn’t nowadays. There have been so many lows with intermittent unaccountable high moments. I’m baffled!
A bit worried as well. Although I knew this would develop, I was warned by the doctors years ago.
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Still a bit dark.

Carer Maryham arrived while I struggled to get the fresh PPs and helped me with them. Then, Maryham creamed and ointmented certain areas. I could not have a shower too early cause of the noise and neighbours. Bless her!

A few spots of showery rain, but no more.

Bootiful clouds,

The first day pouch emptying was much better,

I know I was working on the blog, but not much else.
Hours passed, I think Carer Sam called, and then the next one was Carer Chris. I mentioned that I had not taken many photographs today for the blog.
He took Kodak Tim onto the balcony and started taking skyshots for me. Apparently, I was shaking a bit.
Jolly decent of him.

He even took a shot of me after. When he’d done the clouds for me. Seeing the ageing, pot-bellied man in the above photo, I was shocked to see how I’d so quickly gone so decrepit. I’d love to know what I was thinking with my ponderous look?

When Chris departed, I emptied the day urine pouch again.
Oh, a very much better-looking colour this time! There’s hope yet for the Urologist. Hehe!

A shot from the right side of the balcony later, after the sun had forced its way through and the clouds thinned down. I saw many things in this shot.

I got the nosh made and put it on a tray, and Carer Christopher arrived. He took my socks off, medicated me, and attached the nocturnal catheter pouch for me. He selected his drinkie and nibbles, and off he trotted. I tucked into the now cold meal.

Two-thirds of the way through, I realised I had not taken a snap of it, so I did. Cold chips, cold pork knuckle, tomatoes, red onions, and a pot of Lemon Mousse. I dropped it, and it split open, making another mess to be sorted out for me. Tsk!

I went to wash the pots and took shots of the evening sky with the quarter moon showing in the centre of the photograph. Marvellous colours. I tried several times to get as close in a shot as Kodak Tim would let me. I must have taken four shots; this was the best I could manage. Humph! The blotches and stretched moon might mean this is Tate Gallery-worthy? On the other hand…

I stripped and nearly tripped over the night pouch’s long tube. It was another struggle to get settled into the bed. With the nurses adjusting the heights and dips so she might get better access to plunge the catheter tube back into Little Inchie, the bed is now in such an uncomfortable layout/position. After playing with the controls for ages, I decided it was not working for me.
I got out of bed, , swore and cursed a little, and hobbled to the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, and settled back in it.
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Have a nice day, and take care!

Incapsulated Inchy: Skanky Saturday 8th June 2024

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I woke, surprised at how light it was, and gave consideration to the vague idea of getting up, mused for a moment… decided I was still too tired and swiftly nodded off again,
I have no idea when I first woke up, but this second one was distinctively individual. I was rudely awoken as my body was falling out of the bed!
Then the ‘thud’ as my knees hit the floor and the pain from the nocturnal pouch tube pulled at Little Inchie. I hauled myself back up to find that Cartilage in Chloe’s left knee had swollen immediately. But I was concerned about knowing how the heck that happened. How? What was I doing, having a dream? Had Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had a leg dance? Or had Shaking Shaun been involved?
When I started to hobble about to take the nocturnal pouch to be emptied, Lost-Balance-Barbara nearly had me over and painfully gave way frequently. The urine colour was bloodied, but that was no surprise with the morning’s -tumble.
I was still juggling things to get a less painful seating position on the WC when the almost liquidised evacuation started flowing. Even that hurt, but it was short-lived. I can’t say the same about cleaning things up after the torrent from . I decided to get the ablutions & medicationings done.
I hadn’t realised how late it was that I’d risen from the pleasure of peaceful sleep. I was having problems shaving the back of my neck again, as sounded from the door chime, and in came Carer Christopher. Knocked on the wet room door, asking if I was alright. He came in and shaved just the back of my neck for me as I began relating the morning’s farcical beginning to him. He wasn’t pleased with my wobbling and imbalance, the swollen leg or the colour of the urine, but I explained I thought they were all probably due to the tumble. Because I was about to shave and shower, I could not have the new pouch bag or the diabetic socks on. Chris said he would not give me the medications yet and would give me an hour or so to get the showering done, then he would return to do the medicating, socks, and catheter pouch fitting. That was kind of him; off he went, and I returned to the wet room to finish off the shaving. A few tiny nicks, but only tiny ones. Then, the showering… Although the procedure was painful with the swelling and when I got around to the rear-end cleaning, Boy, was it painful? Yes, it was. Hehehe! But with my pain tolerance level being so high, I wasn’t bothered about the knees, haemorrhoids, catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie, or the toe I’d just stubbed in the slightest.
I was coughing and sneezing by the time I’d finished the medicating and ablutions.
I made the waste bags into one and took them to the front door.

Christopher returned. He got my socks on for me because he realised it must have been nippy without any on. I issued the medications and then put a washed catheter pouch cover on it for me.
On his way out, he took the laundry down for me, taking his choice of drinkies and Lamb Patti from the fridge.

I spent hours and hours on the blog update, all the time sensing the gurgling and rumblings from the innards.
I took a diarrhoea capsule in hopes of avoiding another of the infamous evacuations again.

It cost me, losing half a day.
When I came back to semi-reality, I knew a Carer had been. A , and I checked on the Carers log. Joanne had been, and Christopher too. Someone came on the third call because the washing had been returned. I usually have a natter and laugh with Joanne, I can’t recall either of these episodes. Vague is the word.

I checked the camera’s SD card. I’d have expected to remember taking these two beautiful shots. But I’m afraid I can’t. I think I took them from the kitchenette window.
Wonderful peace-emitting clouds out there.
I felt the pangs of hunger, so I investigated what to eat.
I emptied the day pouch from Cathy’s Catheter and was pleased to see it was a little lighter. I did not mean the pouch; I meant the urine that was emptying. Not a bit mixed here!
Potato Rostis and a lamb cutlet were sprayed with oil and put into the oven. When they were out of the oven, I dabbed some Germolene on the hand I burned while doing so, and then the food was plated.
I added some tomatoes and some sugar snap peas.
A few rounds of Milk Roll bread and got stuck into it. This I do remember!
The lamb was fatty—too much so for me—but the rest of the plate was fine and tasty!

I took this shot of the night sky from the kitchen window as the sun was setting.

And went to turn off the computer in the junk/bed/living room. Haha!

I found them, but not in 12 seconds. It was the wave one that had me fooled for so long. No surprise, a lot of things got and got me confused: Women, Pucking Putin, computers, Football Referees’ Decisions, Oligarchs, , , , , , , , and perhaps the most confusing is the decisions arrived at by theParole Boards to free convicted killers to murder again!
They instil in me a hatred comparable to my loathing for Putin!
I’m so glad I got that out of the way!

Cheerio, Folks!

Incarcerated Inchy: Friday 7th June 2024

A morning view

with blotches.

I was going to try the new Tena pants… But I realised I had some of the bulky Morrison ones to use up.
So, I adorned them instead.

The first day-pouch emptying was a mammoth event.
Over 400ml. But a better colour.

Front car park view.

I was undecided on what to make for tonight’s meal. Nothing unusual about that!
I prepped some vegetables, which are ready to go in the oven later. I’ve added carrots, swede, red onions, potatoes, and leeks, and I will add some tomatoes later. Then, I looked at what I could add to it in the meat department. I’d got some veggie sausages and a Cornish Pasty. Undecided, I thought I’d make my mind up again later on. It was far too early to get the veg done, so I covered the round oven dish and food in foil and put it in the fridge so it kept fresher.

While catching up on the blogging, the mouse stopped working, and the keyboard went on strike, too! It took me hours of trial and error to get it right again. I checked the batteries and senders for the mouse and keyboard. Then, I had to press the Reset option in Windows. I had already lost a lot of work because I couldn’t save any. Frustrations came forth, quickly perused with a gigantic depression. Is this the end for the computer? Did I do something silly without realising it? Grrr! The reset started, and everything was still letting me do nothing. I was now terrified. I did not want to be in! I could not save the other work I’d done either, and I turned everything off as the MS option buttons were not accessible!
In despair, I meandered onto the balcony to calm myself down.
I took these Kodak Tim shots, one straight ahead and the other to the right. As you can see, I caught the balcony. Hang on, I got this wrong. These were taken from the kitchenette window; the one on the left was from the kitchen window.
I get confused easily nowadays, you know. Hehe!
I returned to the computer… and , everything was working again? I was Ogleboggled! But pleased!

The clouds were thickening, but still no rain.
I was so weary and irked I turned off the computer, but not without a bit of prayer that it would come back on in the morning. I added some sugar snap peas to the oven dish and got it cooking in the oven.
I added some vegan cookies to the JS order earlier.
I photographed the beautiful blotchy sky shot of the sun going down.
Carer Chris came, and he got the medications sorted. Again, later, for the last call, he took off my socks for me and put on the night pouch.
He was in a hurry; it was time for home to go home now. I started the computer up to see if things would work again. The mouse took too long to activate, but at least it did this time. In thanks, I slipped him a Jerk Patti, and he selected a drink to take.

I pottered about cleaning up the mess I made while I was doing the meal. Then I took this ‘blotch-hiding’ picture of the early morning view from the kitchenette.

My eyes are perfect, but why has the red kettle been ringed? It looks the same to me.
Ah! I can see it now; the handle has moved!
Well, I got two of them in nine seconds. Hehehe!

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Cheers, and Have a Good Day!

Inkle Inchy: Tuesday 4th June 2024

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Sorry, it’s confusing; it’s how I copied it.
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Possibly, just perhaps, well, at least in the last week, this morning was the oddest one yet. For a variety of reasons, which I will no doubt get mixed up and out of order. But I’ll do my bestest to explain.
04:20hrs: First, I woke up with an unexplainable… well, Zest!
I found the nocturnal pouch of urine to be a lighter colour than of late. An urge for a mug of Glengettie came next, and off to the kitchen, I poddled to get the kettle on. Then, I took a snap with Kodak-Tim of the morning view and realised it was only 05:00 hrs. I decided to have an early wash and shave, being as I was feeling almost chirpy. (I knew it couldn’t last, so I made the best of it.)
Then I noticed that the kettle was not working. I toyed with the connections and plug for a while, but it did no good. It wouldn’t have it! But on top of the cupboard was a kettle I bought about a year ago. The problem was, how do I get it down from there? I ended up using the long picker-upperer carefully, but I got it done safely enough. However, the base plate was still up there and at the back near the wall. My desire for the tea drove me on.
After a little thought, I fetched the 3-step ladder from the junk room. I could only manage two steps, thanks to , in particular, the back of the knee emitting severe pains. But my determination to get a brew of Glengettie was strong!
I managed to reach the plate using the small picker-upperer. Finding that it and the kettle needed a good cleaning up before using it.
This is when the stubbing of the toe took place.
Undaunted, I got the dust of and out of everything and the kettle on the boil.
Moments after taking a photo of the Jenny donated china mug on the left, is when I knocked it off of the counter with the dressing gown sleeve. I caught hold of the mug as it bounced off of my overly abundant belly. Thus, spilling some tea on the gown, me and the floor!
My previously rare morning zest was flattening down now, and the idea of making another mug of tea did not appeal to me. I felt a brooding coming on.
I got all the waste bags sorted and placed them near the door.
Then I decided a darn good wash and shave was called for. So, I took off my dressing gown and wobbled along to the wet room. The wobbling was caused by the catheter fitted yesterday, which has a thick, massive, long tube. The release valve tap was so low down it rested on my foot! It was not easy to reach down to empty it, which was my first task as I got inside the wet room.
The favourite was again in full control of the evacuation. Cleaning up was a heck of a job, and it was difficult with the long catheter on and using the walking stick.
Still, I freshened things up and cleaned my teeth. The bleeding soon stopped. There was a funny incident that I realised about much later when I got around to uploading the photos. I dropped Kodak-Tim from the dressing gown pocket later, and while making sure nothing had broken, I took the selfie above, catching the image in that shaving mirror, Hahaha!
The shaving ended with a cut count of only two; oddly, one was on the ear lobe? Beats me too!
I get the body scrubbed up; it takes longer nowadays. What with the monumental girth I’ve acquired since I’ve become flat-bound, bending down is so difficult and painful. The Cartilage Girls & don’t help. I suppose on the bright side, if I ever tumble forward, I’ll have a chance of bouncing back up. Hehehe!
Then, I decided to mop the kitchen. I used the Flash speed mop for the job—a mistake that was!
It appeared to look okay afterwards until I walked into the place. The soles of the slippers stuck to the tiles, and I could hear and almost feel them squelching as I walked on the floor.
Now, my mood was almost reversed to what it was earlier. I noticed many bits of something very small still stuck on the floor, and a Carer mopped it last week. So, I had to get the mop and bucket brought into action. Gathering several leg bruises on the way from the walking stick as I mopped one-handed, then found somewhere to lean again, to bend painfully down to hand wring the mophead. I even got Kodak-Tim out a few times to record my progress. Now, I was worried about my sanity. But I was pretty happy with this second proper mopping job done.
As I went to clean and store the mop and bucket, I realised that I’d not done the morning medicationings for many regions of my story, plump, wobbly body. So I did.
I put on the Acne cream. Then, I applied barrier cream around the fungal lesion and barrier creamed the tops of the inner legs and the ever-growing stomach fold. Then, I Germoloided Harold’s Hemorrhoids. I put on a fresh dressing gown, made a fresh mix of spring water, put the old dressing gown in the laundry bag, and noticed the clock. It was 08:55 hrs.
I’d been so concentrated on and frustrated with the Whoopsies, cleaning, and farcical morning that I wondered if the Carer had been and if I’d forgotten about it. I checked the Carer’s log, and there was nothing on it for this morning. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.

Later, Carer Sam arrived. She listened to my tale of the morning’s woe; bless her. Finally, I made a belated start on finishing off yesterday’s blog. I was calming down nicely.

, sod-it! The Google and Firefox thingies went down at the same time on me!
I could do nothing for an hour.
I tried all the usual stuff, but the mouse was working, not the keyboard.
I kept getting messages coming up that meant nothing to me. I was near to dismay.
Then I got Norton Messages telling me a series of numbers were safe; no action was needed! Was Google healing itself?
I gave up and turned off the whole shebang.
I was sitting feeling sorry for myself when the intercom sounded. It was the delivery of Medical stuff from Vyne. Boy, did it take some sorting out?
Yes, it did. I had many things on my mind and worried about the computer, too.
I didn’t know what all the things were for, but indeed, they must be connected with, for, or part of the dreaded and disliked
.
They look awfully complicated to me. But, then again, so do women, Putin, arithmetic, Judges, the Conservative Party, and Doreen Dementia.
Ah, I recognised the painkiller jet thingies that the nurses shoot down Little Inchie when they have to put new tubes into him. Oh, they are good! Haha!

When I returned, I turned on the computer with my fingers crossed. Well, I never did. Google was working again. I was nearly too stressed and tired to appreciate it at first, but a semi-imitation joy crept through my brain all the same.

Carer Christopher arrived. I gave him a cold drink and a bar of chocolate. I chatted away, but he missed most of what I was saying as his fingers belted away on his mobile phone. Hehehe!

I pressed on with starting this blog. It is now past 21:00 hrs. What a day! Where did it go? I’ll read this and find out later.

A caregiver is due on the last day, anytime now. So, I think I’ll put the vegan slices in the oven. Well, I’ll put the stove on, and it’s ready to heat up.

I finally had the meal of the day and enjoyed it, although the incident with prepping the potatoes slightly tempered my enjoyment.

I’d got the instant mash into the bowl with some sea salt, basil and a large knob of No Butter, Butter. Then, I added a packet of grated Leicester Cheese to the mix. I added some freshly boiled water and was about to set it to give it all a good mixing. Then I noticed some mould on the bits of cheese!
I’d discarded the good-dated packet and kept the just-out-of-date packet of cheese! Luckily, the unopened packet was retrieved from the waste bin after I chucked the bowl contents into a bin and re-cleaned the bowl. I had to start the potato prepping all over again. Which meant the veg pasties were tastier. I thought the cheesy mashed potatoes were Pareidolianiable. Can you see the chick or rabbit on them? No? It must be me, then. Hahaha!

At last, a photo to be proud of was taken. The blotches were all hidden in the dark night clouds. Is it like the surface of the moon with a volcano erupting? I may ask the Tate Art Gallery if they’d take this one. If not, I can always display house bricks on a wooden palette, 2024 style. I could spill blood on them, break them up for them. I could call it Putin’s Pallette, perhaps? Haha!

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TTFN