Reflux valve

Inchie: Sat 30 Aug: Yet another lousy day! Confusion Konrad, Depression Darius, Sandra Seizures, but little High-Mood-Horis!

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Where do I leave my words of perspicuity?
I’ll try to explain to you clearly,
Mayhap inside a time capsule,
Where do we bury it? In a school,
Perhaps a police station or hospital?
All three will be run by the Oligarchy,
Used by backhanergivers & the aristocracy,
If Herr Starmer gets his way,
What goes in our time capsule?
The lies of Herr Starmer, the fool?
His standards? Self-motivated & dual…
Kiers lies, barriserial & political?
I, like millions, look forward to his burial!
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What a day! The agony started as soon as I woke up. I was in fact enjoying the peace of being in a seizure, unaware of that, of course, it seems the only way to get any sleep and stay in it nowadays, but the recovering after effects were pretty harmful, as per usual. The door chime rang, stirring me cruelly back to reality. But my confusion and balance were all over the place. Getting out of bed took that long; the chime stopped. I continued the battle to get on my feet and carried the nocturnal bag with me to save time, to reach the panel when they called back, and to unlock the door.
In the rush and confusion, I got the catheter bag caught on the corner shelf as I exited the room… Knocking off and breaking a small ornament I kept in memory of my wonderful Aunty Kath. Amidst all the panic, Depression Darius joined me, with Frustration Frank and a rare visitor, Fearful Fred. I was aware that the confusion and panic were coming from the seizure recovery, but that didn’t help.
When I unlocked the door,  and, daft as it sounds, I had no idea what day or time it was, which panicked me further. I’d had no rest & recovery time, do you see? I’ve no idea what happened, just a few odd bits, of which I’m not certain anyway.
When Carer Nimra came in, I was back sitting on the bed with my head in my hands. (The head hadn’t fallen off, Hehe!) No recollection of much of what took place. Lots did, cause there was a full page of scribbled notes about it. Undecipherable, so I must have written them while still recovering after Carer Nimra had departed. The last bit I could read… I went into another seizure as Nimra left. I recall her telling me to sit down, I’m going now… There was nothing the gal could do anyway. Bless her. I got back on the bed. I think it was minutes later, I came back to reality, and all the after-effect symptoms had, as expected, returned. I was not going to risk getting up too quickly or soon after being forced to; that was not a pleasant experience.

I rose carefully about 15 minutes later. Grabbed Willie the Wooden Walking Stick. Off to the kitchen to steep a Detox bag in water. I visited the Porcelain Throne. Feeling more comfortable and with it as time passed. A 100% turnaround in the evacuation. Hard work, painful and bloody session. Yet a nice change from the last eight sloppy, wet, spattery Trotsky Terence cleaning up-after trips.

Later, I found this shot of the trees & bushes on the front of the flat’s walkway and carpark. I can’t recall when, or even if, I took it.

There were numerous issues with CorelDraw and the SD reader; in fact, it completely crashed. Boy, was I struggling with fitting the new one. Yes, I was!
I got the new SD reader out of its box. The SD cards now have to be inserted upright, which my Cramp-ridden, arthritic, and Peripheral neuropathy-affected fingers were reluctant to let me do. The more I use it, the easier it might get. It features several additional benefits, including a turn-on/off button for each socket. Which will be no use to me if I can’t find out how to replug it in the back of the computer.  
I was leaning forward to plug in the one… and PN’s dying neurotransmitters, shot the wire from my grip… They often perform similar actions, such as preventing me from gripping something or not allowing me to release something. I’ve broken countless mugs and plates. You may have noticed I no longer use plates, only paper ones or metal ones. This can be a problem when removing a hot dish from the microwave or oven, and I’m unable to release the hot dish or tray. You may have noticed the number of burns I collect. Haha! 
I was nearing the point of accepting that forgetting the socket for us and losing the plug wire would cause a terminal issue here. Carer Nimra arrived at just the right moment. At my point of despair…
She knew which socket to use and inserted it for me.
WALLAH! And I then had a new SD reader that worked
YeeHaa! No, double, even treble YeeHaa! 
Bless her cotton socks!
But, more good news! I  know, you are not used to getting good news from Inchie Today.
I put the mousse and keyboard senders in the last two plugs, and the SD reader in the next one. There are on/off buttons for each connection! I then grilled Nimra, asking what had taken place this morning, saying I couldn’t recall. She calmly told me I was all over the place verbally and physically. But don’t worry, you coped well with it all. I realised she’d not put the diabetic socks on, but had given me the morning’s prescription medications. So I spent the day sockless, Herhehe! Undoubtedly, this saved the day for me and was what spurred a short, but pleasantly acceptable visit from ! Then… No chance to start yesterday’s blog update yet. Because the frustratingly unreliable CorelDraw started playing up, and after sorting out the failure to save the page was due to a lack of memory, I pondered what I could do about it.

Going into a seizure, the length of reading War & Peace, compared to the usual 2 to 15 minutes, did me no good at all. I cannot judge how long it lasted, but it must have been a long one, because the after-effects and recovery time are always easier after a lengthy seizure. Also, the mug of Glengettie tea that I’d made was now stone cold! And, getting the brain to concentrate was a lot easier than after one or a series of .
I summoned as much intellectualisation as Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Mavis could muster, to try and find a solution to my problem with CorelDraw. Graphic artists worldwide have to do this regularly, I’m sure. So, having pondered, the best I could come up with was to use CCleaner and hope it creates enough space in the process. So, I did.
I had closed Excel and Word, then Google, and after saving the work, I ran CCleaner. It allowed me to keep CorelDraw open. (Sadists! Haha!) CCleaner claimed it had removed 2500 KB from the hard drive and 967 KB from the drive. This looks good, I thought.
Back to CorelDraw to try to save the work again. I opened Google, was going to go back to CorelDraw…

That went well… I waited, and waited for the windows to update. Not sure if I fell asleep or not. What day is it? What was I doing?
I had confidence once back on CorelDraw that CCleaner must have removed enough to save the artwork. I tried – it didn’t work. I screamed, wailed, spat & cried. My language was a bit crude.
I lost all the photographs when CorelDraw froze again! I did cry this time!

Then, yet another cock-up was made! I seem to be becoming an expert on these.
Amazon sent me an email stating that the £149 wheelchair, which had received adverse reports, had been cancelled. I promptly placed an order for one of the £184 models with handbrakes on the handles for the Carer or pusher, but with self-propelling wheels. I was thrilled that I might be able to get out and about on my own.
I realised that I had not checked the comments on this model, so I did. They were a replica of the comments on the £149 model???
But it had been a terrible day for me, and I was getting more and more tired and sleepy now, after suffering enough problems, Whoopsiedangleplops and frustrations to last me over the last few days for the rest of my life. Well, maybe. I’m still far behind with blogging than I’ve ever been. I frustratedly gave up on the computer and got my overdue Ablutions done.
The seat marks under my arm had worsened significantly overnight. I’ll ask the Carer to use the barrier cream and remind them to remove all traces of the old cream, then clean the area with baby wipes. This is only if I remember to ask whoever comes. As ‘Forgetters go!’, I think I deserve an award for my sheer dogged persistence, regularity, & stupidity.
I almost had myself over when I washed my feet in disinfectant in the bowl while shaving, getting only one cut! It did bleed a bit, mind you.
I foolishly decided to get a short-sleeved black kagoule hand-washed and rinsed, then hung it up in the wet room to dry on the shower curtain rail. As I turned to leave the room… I shoulder-charged the door edge. Which set off on one of her vicious attempts to dislodge the ball from the socket! Not that this actually surprised or upset me, it was just another cog, pain and annoyance on my way to total insanity. I’m not ready for considering suicide yet, cause I still have dreams of someone assassinating Starmer; I’d hate to miss that, and it would give a little lift, and laugh. I’ve paid for my funeral. I told the Carer where the details are. Not that I’m in any rush. Oh no, but if things carry on as they are… well!

I’m assuming that I had a seizure. I came back and was mopping the kitchen floor with the speed mop. The storage trolley was out of position, I’d moved food from a cupboard onto the floor near the radiator, and opened both windows. I’d been busy during my ictus? No one has explained to me how this can be so. Impossible to happen, surely?
Now this had happened before. If I recall rightly, it was the same as last time. The recovery and confusion were far less than having had an ‘ordinary’ seizure when all I apparently did was say, according to the Carers who were with me at the time: Sometimes with open eyes, others with them closed, but always with jerks, shaking and a mumbling of incoherent short words. Joeonce wrote down what I was babbling about in short outbursts; Urghum, Worramum, ehereherehu and No, no. With different expressions for each so-called word?
But how can I do things like moving things, and mop a floor? Mind you, I made a mess of that and had to clean it again this time.

And what happened to my feeling of being so drained?
Why should I do it at this time of night, let alone during a seizure? How? Why? Thankfully, these don’t occur very often… Ah! Perhaps there is a connection to my feeling of being so tired? Nae!

I keep getting myself off track tonight. But the need of food arose. I looked in the fridge to see what was available for dining on. The photo above reveals two outdated food items that I had to discard. The pastie on the right was use-by 19th Aug. Whatever it was inside that had gone mouldy and showing through the pastry and bag was mysterious enough. But then, why did I buy them in the first place? My tiredness returned.

I decided, after seeing what was not available to eat, to opt for frozen chip shop chips, tomatoes, and two defrosted cheesy-topped no-butter buttered bread rolls, along with some cheap £1-a-packet ham slices, which were well within their use-by date, 8th September. Worryingly, the highest ingredient listed was water.
However, they were a success (Not the meat, but the tomatoes, bread and chips were lovely).

There’s a chance of a miracle having taken place here. I cannot remember seeing the moon while I was in bed. Sometimes I see the hue coming through the tatty, thin curtains. I’ve been known to scramble out of bed to take a shot of it. I’m sure I didn’t tonight… well, as sure of anything I can ever be sure of. But that’s not saying much, is it? This snap was so beautiful, I’d have thought I’d remember taking it.
It’s Sunday evening as I write this. I’m now over two blogs behind. I think. I’m waffling on, and still have Sundays to start, and 30 templates to make up.
I’ll do a quickie for Sunday. Just the top graphics, CorelDraw permitting.
An Ode, hopefully.
And a photo or two…
I should get it done by Christmasish. Haha!.

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MISSING HORIS!

🤎 CHEERY-BYE FOLKS 🤎

Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
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I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I  , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I  caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that  my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all. 
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time! 
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
pillockI soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

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Inchy Today: Thursday 15th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

OLD STARMER FUN CARTOON
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I thought I’d discovered a way of saving the photographs without CorelDraw cutting me off. I had to use the old CorelDraw; the new version, which cost nearly £400, is not letting me export or save. 
After 6 hours of importing photos one at a time and saving them individually, I found out that CorelDraw would not let me save anything in the old version! It kept either freezing or closing down on its own accord. I had to keep stopping for Ejaz’s call. Ejaz got the bags for me in the kitchen when the food delivery arrived. Issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on for me, and Barrier creamed the bleeding thigh. Then, it took me a long time to put the fodder away. A good job that I was up earlyish, and got the ablutions and torso-medicationings done. Eyes, ears, toothache tincture and shaved without a single cut! Smug-Mode-Utilised.
Back to the computer. It closed down on me twice and froze on me three times. By the time I’d got the photos from yesterday in the WP gallery, with interruptions, I’d been at it for eight hours! 
After all that effort, I hope I can get them off the gallery to go in without any more cock-ups! Ah, well, here I go… Oh, dear, the second Carer call is due anytime now. I’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck?
No, don’t waste your breath. Haha!

Just some of the clothing that no longer fits me. Taken in mid-clear-up.
This rack was chocker-block full. At least Joe saved some for me after checking if they should fit onto my chunky, whacking great, super-duper-sized, walloping, cyclopean, elephantine body. Not many!
The rail racking had even less that would fit!
Two 60-litre waste bags full of unfitting clothing were packed and ready to be picked up by Carer Joe later. Joe made a funny quip after we stopped to get the laundry sorted out. I think I said about the drier?
“When Gerry looked after, in despair…
His clothes racks were bare!”
Hehehe!

I had three messages, well, phone calls that I’d had; One from the medics, One that I couldn’t decipher, one that I couldn’t hear from the Doctor’s surgery. This one said, “You’ve contacted the Doctor to ask for a home visit, didn’t you?” I vaguely remember Carer Joe calling them to get an appointment. He may have asked if a home visit was available. I asked him to ring back later. Carer Jazz came, not Joe, so the confusion may have developed because Ejaz didn’t ask. Then, I later got a call from the matron, but I couldn’t recall what it was about.
Ejaz said I have to call Matron Jackie. That’s all on the note he left. 

Back to the plot, I got a bit off-kilter there. Sorry.

Oh, I nearly forgot to put the meal photos on.
Roasted some potatoes in the oven.
Mixed then in the ready meal.
Got them into the oven.
Just out of the microwave.
A darned decent tasty flavour!
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I stirred back into the offendedness of life’s miserable existence. I was worried. About the CorelDraw farce, the computer blue screen of death comes up. The bank balance received by text has never been lower since 1980!
I’m confused by all the medical messages I’m getting and blown away by how many helpers suddenly come in. It baffles me when someone mentions something from a few days ago, and I cannot determine its concerns. I vaguely get partial memories come back, but they make things worse and worry me all the more. I’m waffling again, aren’t I? I’m well-versed and pretty good at that!

I was in the wet room by about 05:15hrs. 
As I stripped off, I realised I had only had one mini-seizure in an hour, and more importantly, I was not in any depression! Yet with all the extra bothers, confusion and misleading medical mayhem, I had good reason to be feeling down – but I wasn’t!
Only the other day, when I had a mother of Deep , I couldn’t think why.
The opposite happened this morning. I thI’veI’ve worked out why. It is when the reasons for a depression weigh heavily on me I can go into a sort of, well, ‘Sod-it, I can’t win!’ mode. Sometimes, how I feel now is the reason. Or maybe not.

I tried the tricks explained earlier to get CorelDraw to permit me to save and store things. I lost hours and hours as CorelDraw froze or crashed repeatedly. No, I’ve written that already, I think.
The shaving was back near to normal this morning. Three nicks, a dropped razor, and the aftershave Brut bottle. There were no other injuries, though. Unless you count when on leaving the wet room, I shoulder-charged the edge of the doorframe. Although that didn’t actually hurt much, it started off that did hurt a bit. She’ll have my shoulder socket ball out one of these flipping days! Hehe!
The only thing that bothered me was that    had returned. I won’t complain; she has given me several days of rest. I’ve missed her roaming stabbing pains. Secretly, whenever she attacks, I try to guess where she’ll hit me next time. Areas so far that have felt her wrath: Neck, jaw, shoulders, arms, back, or, even occasionally, the upper abdomen. That’s her favourite attack route for me. Her abdominal playground is under one arm and around the other. She rarely gets me there. (Just watch how things go now that I’ve just said that!)

Ah, much better!

The part-mystery of this note has been solved.
The surgery receptionist called me on the mobile, so it was not easy to hear her, but she was patient with her patients. Hehe! She made the appointment for my yearly Health Check (shown earlier), but I am not concentrating well today. Nothing new there, then. For Thurs, May 29th, a home visit! Great!

Had an early meal tonight. Salad.
A sliced baked potato and tomato (Dutch), caramelised beetroot, and red onions (tasty!). With some Milk Roll sliced bread slathered with the gorgeously tasty No Butter, Butter (by Flora). The only let-down was the so-called Mature Cheddar cheese. I’ve tasted tastier newspapers! But all the rest of the dish made was up for this, somewhat.
As a warning to any UK mild, insipid cheese-lovers, it was Cathedral City Mature. If you happen to like tasteless, weak, bland, pale, uncrumbly, rubbery cheddar, this is the brand for you!

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CHEERS MIDDEARS!
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Inchy: Saturday 10th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I didn’t particularly run, more absquatulated,
The plans for the attack were soon abrogated,
The CO’s plans seemed so distorted, aberrated…
2nd Corp was soon abscinded,
The enemy got so aggravated…
Our armour arrived, defences were annihilated,
Remnants withdrew, not chicken-hearted,
Their ammunition, fuel, expended…
We were welcomed and adulated,
Winners, victors, it’s complicated,
Yet war is not globally hated?
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05:30 hrs: I had a verbal and emotional argument with myself. The Inchy part of me wanted to get up and do the ablutions and medicationings, then get onto the computer and try to catch up with my blogging. However, the other, being in residence in my brain (EQ Inchie), wanted only to give up and stay in the comfortable, snug bed to try to get back to sleep again. We both partly agreed with the other.
As we argued, we removed the nocturnal bag from the day pouch, and things turned unwanted! A bit of panic as a rear-end evacuation started on its own accord – I fumbled my way to the wet room.

Carer Ejaz treated the catheter contraption 
wounds and bruises.

Kitchen view.

Sweetcorn fritters were put in the oven.
20 minutes of cooking time.
Two hours later, I took the burnt food from the stove and threw it away. 
Tsk!

A microwave meal is sorted.

Sorry that there’s not much on here.
I spent more time out of it than with it.
Mini-seizures, I assumed.

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All the best!
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Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime, 
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
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05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet.  Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale). 
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Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

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🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
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Inchy Today: Friday 18th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Proof that the Grim Reaper is Evil!
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Life now seems full of stupefaction,
To which I hold many a reaction…
Overall, after my pondering summation,
I cut down on taking beta-blocker medication,
To help me with my concentration,
I weighed up the facts, with consideration
My brain tending towards absquatulation,
Considered my rear-end’s vesiculation,
It had no bearing on the situation,
Considering problems I didn’t want to mention,
The neurologist who said I’ve verbigeration,
Will my research ultimately reach a conclusion?
I realise life will never be utopian,
Past failures, return, with apprehension,
Stemming my thoughts with hesitation,
Guilt, self-vulneration & vilification
Detract me from my original intention,
I often lose my current situation…
What is my purpose, my vocation?
With Dementia comes alienation,
No doubt, I can cope, using gumption…
Mine is comparatively, insignificant,
But it is bound to soon worsen,
At the same time, my catheterisation,
Means no voluntary tintinnabulation.
For concentration, I see only annihilation!
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Hopefully with more bravado,
I await the sign; at least an echo,
As I lay here, lying doggo,
My thought processes, fallow…
Whatever my mood, high or low,
I’ll get part-three done tomorrow,
I’m off now to have a Cornetto!
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I stirred back into my pretend life at 05:40 hours.
Another night of ever waking up, but this time & were present every time I woke up. I was concerned about them both, having two nights absence. Huh!

Nocturnal Pouch. Rating 5

Clock calendar updated. Hearing aid inserted. Earholes olive oiled. Eye sprayed. Rear end washed and antisepticated.
The saving produced just two little cuts.
No spillages or tumbles! Although I had a close call when getting the fresh PPs on.

Care Ahmed arrived as I was starting to season & pickle some black peas.
I mentioned that the computer was correcting when I put his name in the blog; so he gave me another name to use, bless him. Ejaz. I used it when updating yesterday’s blog, it accepted this one. He issued the medications and asked me if the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Ointment treating was hurt again today. Haha, a lovely lad, ever-ready for a laugh.

I hoovered the little hallway, not that I’ve got a large hallway, anyway. I didn’t need to say that, did I? I’m wandering all ready. Then, I prepared the necessary items to finish the chickpeas and store them in the fridge for later use.

The day was brightening. However, the sunshine never did break through the clouds today. 

The Kala Chan peas, Stubb’s liquid smoke (this is what McDonald’s uses in their smoked food). Mushroom liquid ketchup, Marmite, liquid sea salt, pickling vinegar, and light soy sauce. I drained the peas and put them in a leak-proof food tub.
And I got it sealed and put it in the fridge. Then I opened a can of water chestnuts, and broke some up into the mix and vinegar. I had a taste of the liquid mix, and it tasted very good to me. It will require a minimum of three days in the fridge to achieve a decent level of pickledness in the peas. I must be parient. Hehe!

Back to the wet room. Urgh!

The midday call was by “Carer Joe”. We had a natter, and he said he’s doing the next call, then a new Carer would be calling. He’ll be back later. I’m not sure how long he’ll be off for, he might be on holiday.
I’d had a seizure while doing the blog when he arrived, so things can be taken with a pinch of salt.

SEIZURES FIESTA
Not for long.
But they very short, but each one was recogniseable.
I dare not move about or try to do anything on the computer, fearing a tumble or ruining the nearly finished blog. All ended well, though. They stopped after about an hour of them rattling in so fast.

Andy really has expressions that almost seem to talk to you! He’s undergoing a lot of treatment at the vets now he’s getting older. All the WPers love him.
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I’ll have to do catch-up again in the morning.

Good Morning!

Not much to do, just to add Ejaz visit and the days nosh. Can’t remember anything else.
When Carer Ejaz made the last call, I’d been deep into a heavenly sleep for about an hour.
Boy, was I confused and tired again.
I was so tired; all I wanted was to get back to sleep.
He kindly said he would fit the new weekly catheter day bag on in the morning. But I’d not made a meal yet! So I did. Half-asleep. Hehehe!

Made the nosh up. Minced imitation beef and grey, added garden peas, pickled water chestnuts, and brown chickpeas. Poured some Gung Po sauce over it, as shown in the picture above. Mixed it all up and microwaved it.
Loverly!

Of course, that was end of any sleep for the night.

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😘 TTFNski. Keep Safe! 😘
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 16th April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
and my bodily, dedicated to medications,
Going in, my shoulder had a collision,
Banged my head, nearly had a concussion,
The Porcelain Throne, I dumped on,
Had a Trotsky Terence evacuation…
All over within what seemed an instant!
Standing, I saw blood, & liquid aurulent.
I checked my bottie and protection pants,
Blood on the lid… is that appurtenant?
Blood twixt the top between each buttock,
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I cleaned my teeth, and they bled,
Then got on and shaved,
Five cuts with my razor blade,
I should really stay bearded,
To myself, I blethered,
Then, with me being butterfingered,
Washing my delicate feet, barefooted,
My ingrowing toenail was stubbed,
The bottom was still well blooded,
Smearing barrier cream, I lathered,
Of course, I wasn’t really bothered!
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Started the medications, antibiotical,
The clock had stopped, its analogical,
Found another sticking out blood vessel,
Then I had something of a tumble…
To the floor, I slowly crumple,
Any more, and I’ll be biopsable!
This was not the end of my trouble,
My ailments are not inalimental,
Many ailments were responsible,
Anne Gyna, Cartilages or neurological,
None of which are nullifiable!
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On all fours, to the recliner, I had to go,
I got on my feet, muttering mumbo-jumbo,
Again, banging my poor camel toe!
Back to the wet room, slowly, adagio,
The rear end was still bleeding, though,
After getting up, the fungal lesion too,
I greeted Carer Ahmed, Buongiorno,
Ahmed said I’ve to let the nurse know,
About the blood that still did flow,
But it stopped later, so I thought, no…
I did feel a bit of a drongo!
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Ahmed medicated me, put on my diabetic socks,
Back to the wet room, I had aftershocks…
No blood is coming now from my buttocks,
Seizures, which for me is now orthodox,
Anne Gyna started, as usual for Inchcock,
Flood alarm sounded, off went the stopcock,
Left the tap running, causing more havoc,
My brain went into a maze, gridlock,
Hearing aids in, I heard the clock’s tick-tock,
Confusion is still running amok!
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Lamburgers & Potato slices.
Iced & Cream finger rolls!
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Laundry and sorting day today. Not me, most of it was done by Carer ‘Joe’. Did a grand job for me as well.
He was up and down with the laundry. And sorting it out in the main room, making space so there is theoretically less chance of taking any whoopsies. I helped with the finances, a problem with photograph storage, and emails. I also checked the dates on the food for me. Thanks, ‘Joe’.
So very light on detail today.
I’ve forgotten half what took place; I’m so busy.

Morning shots. Straight ahead
To the right
To the left.
But I might be wrong.

Off to the wet-room to do my ablutions…
And my body is dedicated to medications.
Details are at the top of the above Ode.
Believe it or not.
The session took me three hours to get done. Then Carer ‘Joe’ here for three hours, it didn’t leave me much time ot get owt done. Although I did get bits done. But not much on the notepad apart from the wet room visit of gloom.

19:20hrs: The rear end is still leaking the odd little bit of blood now, but it is less each time I check it than in previous investigations. A lot of bloodied tissues. I’ve got to laugh about it… now! Haha!

I did have time earlier to cut some water chestnuts into a jar to pickle them. I put them in the fridge next to the delicious Gung Po jar of sauce and the black bean sauce. 
I made up a tub to microwave the planned meal later, but I’m nowhere near getting it done yet. So it may be morning again before I get a nosh. But I think it will be a good one. Another can of the odd, nobbly, stumpy Bularian soft sausage and giant white beans. With Gung-Po already mixed in the microwave dish for later, and some water chestnuts added, either tomato sauce of beef gravy will be added, like the other day. It didn’t look terrific, but it was sooo tasty! 

I took this of the tree copse and pathway.
I think I did, I’ve no memory. I may have taken it another day. Cause I was having a series of mini-seizures that left me more confused than I had been for a few days.

When Carer Ahmed arrived, he thought I was in a seizure. I’d just come out of one. Well spotted, young man. He offered to take a look at my bleeding rear end. It was bleeding, but he wasn’t sure if it was inside or out. Had it been inside, it may have been or .
But a little discomfort when I sit down tells me I’ve chaffed the coccyx (tailbone), from falling in the tumbles or just sitting down so often. I kept cleaning the area and putting some barrier cream on each check throughout the day.

I was trying to get the Ode done. But four hours later, I did get it done. Little else. ‘Joe’ was patient with me, persisting. He knows how addicted I am.

I took this at about 20:15hrs.

I got the food out and added a can of beef stew. Stirred it all together, ready for when the Carer has called, and then I can cook it and dig in. I got three chunky, thick slices of bread from the freezer and thawed them out, ready for the feasting! Haha!

The tiredness and weariness came later than usual today. I’ll try to catch up in the morning, but there’ll not be much to do. Unless some exciting events take place unexpectedly, like: We have a fire, I have another heart attack and or stroke, I leave the taps running, have a tumble, world war three kicks off, or someone calls to adopt me as a grandad. 
I’ll not set any odds. Hehehe!
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TTFN
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Inchy: Monday 14th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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THE HAZE/HASH OF OUR HMG!
I faced adversity catastrophes, indomitably,
Searching for success, I found extinction,
Been shot, heart attack & bankruptcy,
Recognised politicians showed prevarication,
They rule unreliably and lyingly…
Take backhanders with pretension,
Reliable? Each one is a proletariat’s liability,
Growing their wealth in HMG’s pantheon!
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Starmer lines his pockets, carefreely,
Lie, steal from pensioners, Scot-freely!
Prices are rising for food, gas & electricity,
Keir does it all so perfunctorily, blasély,
Surely, he’s an under-the-bed Tory?
His price rises show his peccability,
The voters he scoffs at dismissively,
Proletariats get poverty and penury!
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Who voted for him, primarily plebian…
Realise now, it shouldn’t have been,
He’s mendacious, criminal, immoral & mean!
Keir’s term in office: a trial by ordalian,
Starmer got 3m votes, fewer than Corbyn,
Still enough to give him a win,
That was due to the Tory’s suiciding,
Citizens’ fears are accumulating!
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His lies, there’s not been an investigation,
He shows no signs of any opprobrium,
A man of obfuscation and deception,
No prosecution, just mystification…
Civil Service & HMG are both crooked,
Their guilt, either hidden or resolved,
Most of what they’ve done, I anticipated,
Starmer should be sacked & becudgelled!
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He claims to be a necessitarian,
I think that he’s Machiavellian!
Ill-conceived, ill-advised, & misbegotten,
There’s no hope, no pharma-conation,
As he strangles voters of the Nation,
I’m not saying he’s a pigwidgeon…
Nor a patrician, but a man on a mission,
To take backhanders & make commission!
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He’s worthy of, and gets my derision,
Mayhap the Lord’s resurrection…
Along with our citizens quiritation…
Can bring about, Starmer’s retrogression,
Force him into his own rescission?
Free us of Keir, the self-rhetorician?
Give him a thorough scrutinisation,
But of course, this will not happen!
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CATCH UP
Owing to my plans to get a wash and sit-down when the fatigure-fell yesterday teatime, I got nowt done on the computer again for the rest of the night.
I thought I’d fall asleep and get a few hours in before the last Carer’s call, then restart doing the blog.

Instead, I had God knows how many mini-seizures but no actual sleep. Three hours later, Carer Ahmed arrived. Said I was, sitting there mumbling to myself and breathing heavily, with my eyes open. Once I got up, I felt so drained. I nearly fell back down again. But Ahmed was as quick as a flash and stopped me from plumping back into the 1966, £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.
He got my diabetic socks off my feet, issued the medications and checked the taps and oven for me. After the lad left, 
I went to the kitchen to make a meal. Boy, was I tired out and drained.
I took these fantastic puffer cloud shots.

Minced beef with black beans.
Some seasoned unskinned chips.
Lovely!
A cornet of ice cream afterwards. I’d made
too much again. Well, not much!
But at least I didn’t spill any.
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How can one be so drained and tired but not get to sleep? Horrible night. Forever jumping awake within minutes of the odd nodding off’s that I got.
I gave up and got up at 05:00hrs.
Sorted the waste bins. Then the big task began.
What a session. There is no other word for it. Great!
A cutless shave, absences of , , , & . I’ll add  because she did not kick off until later.

The medicationalising was not too bad, but no worse than of late. Until, of course, it came to the last task, ointmentating and rubbing it in poor suffering . I creamed where I could reach of the ribs & backs  . Again, I could not get those on my back. I’ll ask the Carer if he can help when he arrives. At least I have a good stock of new barrier cream in the drawer. 
I must have taken longer than I thought on these tasks. As I got the PPS on without much of a struggle, I’d like to add, and was getting the Kagoule on, the Carer Ahmed arrived.

Ahmed was on good form this morning. Medications were issued, and my diabetic socks were fitted. 
He then applied barrier cream to my back and ribs, using the last of the old tubes of Derma Cream. Achmed liked doing this job and was good at it. He then sprayed the glaucoma spray on my eyes for me. I’ll call him Dr. Ahmed from now on. Hehehe! He asked for another local accent word, and I gave him ‘Kip’ for a sleep or nap. I’ve given one a day for a few days. The first was ‘Tara” for cheerio. He said he had used it with other clients this morning, and they loved it. Hearing that cheered me up. Yesterday, it was ‘Aye-Up.’ I think the other one was ‘Midduck’. No, that one’s for tomorrow.

Ahmed took a photo of me with a Kodak-Tim-1.
He’d drawn the curtains, knowing how the sunlight affects Glaucoma Gladys.
He thought I looked like a Mafia Boss. Haha!

I grafted away on the Ode making and got it finished.
Then, I updated and posted the Sunday blog. During the morning, I took these snaps from the kitchen.
The shadows from the rising sun from the back of the flats made some of them enjoyable.
The painted houses. If not, I might not see them.
My block of flats’ shadow in this one.
Took later.

Carer “Joe” arrived. He did a grand job of helping again, bless him. He rang the surgery to see if I could get an appointment for any Wednesday, his more extended visit laundry day. 3rd on the waiting list. Got through and he tried his best, but the earliest Wednesday might be 4 weeks wait, and he wasn’t sure if the Doctor could fit it in for the times that Joe was here. Chances were getting dimmer. I suggested that perhaps she could give me a call at home. Yes, but not on a Wednesday. I ended up with her ringing on Monday the 28th between 10 & 11:45hrs. In 14 days. Going well for the NHS, innit? We had to agree; there was no other choice, had we?

Computing was going very slow today.

Carer “Joe” returned to the first evening call. Again, he helped out no end. He called the chemist and arranged for the medications to be sent to his company’s chemist for collection. I’m lost with all these changes. Thank heavens for Carer “Joe”!

It’s already 20:00hrs gone. I’ll make a meal and try to catch up in the morning.

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Fare Thee All Well!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 13th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle!
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05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute.
This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk!
Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .

I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.

Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to Med Hydrhelp when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem!
I got the pain gel cream on   and .

Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!

Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles?
Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.

I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. 
However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?

Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!)
The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.

Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever

I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever.
It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.

Never got back on the computer again today.
I’ll try to catch up tomorrow.
Not good this.
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All The Best, Folks!

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Inchy Today: Thursday 10th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I was once a young, fit, healthy, wise-guy
Girls? I kept out a watchful eye,
With my lower regions, I know not why,
It was harder then, with no wi-fi.
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Life then started to become stunted,
The body aged, it became transfigured,
My sense of balance, weaved & wobbled,
My thoughts came oddly technicoloured.
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Ageing makes you crocheted & crusted,
Arithmophobia, dates, figures & numbers…
Mistakes galore, you feel daunted,
Mental capacity, slowly degenerated!
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After Toileting, the room must be fumigated,
Constipation? Teeth need to be gritted!
Facts, figures? Are at best guesstimated,
Decision making? Wrongly, not at all, or belated,
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Instructions not understood, misinterpreted,
In conversations, words can be misheard,
Burning food, taps left on, safety neglected,
Leg lesions medicated and bandaged daily medicated and bandaged,
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Living in a crime-filled neighbourhood,
No help with the computer – I spit blood!
Impossible to get life orchestrated,
No confidence can be radiated!
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Feeling defeated, doubted, rejected,
All I write needs to be repeatedly subedited,
Self-disgust, self-taunted, vision tinted,
Fears & worries are now ever accessed!
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Dark Dank Duncan Depressed,
Labour in power, as antisocialists,
Starmer, the bleakest Conservatist!
I hope death brings peace and rest,
If so, I’ll be so blessed!
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I had much better sleep in the bed last night.
The problem was, I think I’d had nocturnal seizures, possibly. Because the quilt and covers were all over the place, and the pillow was on the floor. Somehow, I’d changed the settings on the bed mover control. It’s hard to believe how I slept at all. I was right at the top of the bed, yet bent forward so much, with a dip halfway down the bed, and the end and top bits raised to the maximum.
I woke up at 05:00. By the time I’d refigured the bed to a faux semi-comfortable position, ready for use tonight or in the morning, it was 06:00- Tsk!
Here I go again, sensing some challenges may present themselves to me this Thursday. Everything was normal, then! Tsk!

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I detached the night pouch from the day pouch. I was so concerned with the state of the bed. I didn’t realise the night bag was even on. What’s more, I didn’t have any fauxpas, trips or leaks for the hour when the pouch dragged along, entangling itself around my foot and leg!
Now I was concerned! How did I manage that?
I fear I can only put it down to one thing… are you ready for this?… Good Luck! Now, I don’t say that very often. Especially after the Carer helped me out yesterday. He did a grand job for me. Questions for any God, philosopher or neurologist: Is my luck changing for the better? Will I cope with the shock, or have another stroke? Why did good luck wait nearly 80 years to appear? Will I live long enough to enjoy it? Will it continue? (It didn’t.) Can I get NHS instruction on how to be contented? Hahaha!

Starting with a visit to the .
I was back in control. But once the chunks started evacuating, it took a while for them to stop clunking into the water below. 
More than yesterday’s big dollop!

A stand-up wash. I didn’t have time to shower in case either the nurses or the Iceland delivery came earlier. I strip washed, soaking the feet as I shaved and did the teggies, then moved on to the self-medicating of my problematic areas. Argh! 
Olive-oiled the ears, sprayed MedPhorpainthe eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees and cartilages, and ointmentated each Acne and eczema area. As usual, I left the most painful bit to the end.
I gritted my teeth, cleaned as instructed, heroically pulled the skin back, and squeezed the ointment in a drop. That was bad enough, but I had to massage it from the outside each time. Self-imposed agony! But it was nothing to a man of my calibre, heroism and upper pain limit. I may even have been singing to myself as I massaged it in.

When I turned on the computer, I realised I had a fair bit to do on yesterday’s blog.
It had been the busiest day for years!

As I was making a start, Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. I didn’t ask him to take the socks off cause they were not put on last night. Haha! Maybe I could join a touring fairground group as their Memory Man? Har-har! 
My medications were issued. The lad said something about what he planned to do next week in flats the clean-up campaign.

I pressed on with the blog, but then it got busy again. The delivery came.
Seven carrier bags worth.
I got the fresh stuff away.
4 items unavailable & 2 substitutions.
Topped up the nurses & carers shelf with the new Pepsi flavours that came.
A well-overfilled filled top cupboard.
The danger of falling through the floor into the flat below the cupboard of cans of food. I shouldn’t starve to death for a month or two! Hehe!
Why did I stock up to ridiculous? What made me suddenly panic so over food stores? Am I going mad?
I’m not sure if it’s Peripheral Neuropathy, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Ménière’s disease, Episodic Ataxia, FND, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Diabetic Dementia, Absence seizures, or the Myoclonic seizures that may have caused this stupider-than-usual action on my behalf. Would doing such activities that I’ve not done for so long, like cleaning up, wear me out?

I managed to get the blog posted a little later than usual. And the fatigue started to fall.

THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY!
The intercom rang, and I thought it might be the tinned food I’d also ordered from Amazon.
Life lifted, and a smile came over my craggy, aged face. (It does that occasionally).
It was my treasured Hristina, the DVT Warfarin Blood Nurse. The heart beat a little faster, and my Angel was soon in the flat.
I mentioned that I’d run out of Enoxaparin-filled hypos. She said if they need you to start stabbing your stomach 8 times a day, they will ensure you get some. That put my mind at rest. She took the blood for testing, and we spoke of something else, but with my heart beating and eyes so busy watching and listening to Hristina—such a wonderfully calming person and so kind. 🤎

I started this blog in the late afternoon.

Then, the Amazon tinned foods arrived!
I then had to store these tinned meals on the floor!
It’s horrible having a lack of control!

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived and was as aghast as I was at the canned food I bought! No medications were needed. They were, but I forgot to ask for the Peptac and Codeine. I managed to make a brew of tea, and when I got back with it, one of the regular patches was in the regular place on the carpet. Yet I could not find any urine spillages on my legs or slippers. One of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, Starmer robbing all we pensioners, and other Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, logicalty and depressions!

Carer ‘Joe’ came on his teatime visit.
Embarrassingly, the pee-time one as well, haha!
He convinced me that it was not urine because there was no smell. He suggested that I may have spilt the catheter, which needed spring water.
He’s got the measure of me now, he has! Hehe! 

Back to this blog. The eyes faded, and the fatigue returned almost instantly. I was so tired and weary.

I foolishly tried to continue this blog. It was farcical and hopeless, so I gave up. So, I’ll be even further behind by morning. Humph!
I’ll try to stay alert enough to get the comments & WordPress reader read.
I’ll make the meal later.

Aha! I caught the sunset.
Not as good as yesterdays’

But fair for me.

I was expecting a last Carer call, but it’s 21:40hrs now.
I’ve probably got confused. Yes, I think I did. Fool!
Carer ‘Joe’ came a little earlier than usual. I’ve just seen the nocturnal catheter pouch on the chair.
I can’t cope with my decline very well. Tsk!

I’ll get the food in the microwave. I made it up in the tray earlier, so it should be ready in the oven in ten minutes. It consists of minced beef in gravy, sliced water chestnuts, pickled beetroots, red onions, tomatoes, garden peas, and a can of potatoes. It is also seasoned with vinegar, Worcester Sauce, and thick sliced bread for dunking. I hope it all goes well. I’ll let you know in the morning!

Good Moring!
The meal looked and smelled amazing!
I made too much. But ate ¾ of it.
NICE!
Into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner, to watch a nature documentary. I’m glad to say that I didn’t get to see it.
This was due to my drifting off to sleep.
There were far too many waking-ups, but I did get back off quickly each time. 
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Keep Smiling! Or, not like. Hehehe!
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