Sarcasm

Inchy Today: Satur’Rotten’day 24th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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This is a sort of disclaimer.
Defending my brain’s abductor,
My cerebrum needs a new alternator,
Today, full of Whoopsiedangleploppery…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Good Glory!
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
As I write this, it’s 16:00hrs, Sunday,
07:15, I mean on Saturday…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Thoughts gory!
Struggled with the Peripheral Neuropathy,
Arthritis and cartilage, bad in each knee,
Glaucoma was making things hard to see,
I cut my finger on the zester,
Porcelain Throne visits, never messier!
What people said would not register,
My catheter tap was left open, pathetically…
Slippers, socks, feet, carpet wet, you see?
Leg ulcers turned deep zaffre…
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
No one had time for a chat or natter…
What bit of hope I had began to wither,
I didn’t know if I was here, there or whether…
It was pouring with rain, a change in the weather,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan dawned,
No visits from High Horis, I felt scorned,
I got confused with the dates on the calendar,
The computer has a blue screen, whatsoever,
Each caller had a different Carer,
Lost without Carer Joe, he’s on holiday,
Fought against dates, mathematically,
My thoughts sadly went argumentatively,
And I was only talking to myself, sadly,
Then, I think you may agree…
I suffered catastrophe after catastrophe,
I washed the pots and put them away,
A Carer from the ICC,
Which naturally distracted me,
She left, I discovered, agonistically,
I’d left the tap running again. Glory be!
No ablutioning today as well, I can see!
Cleaning my togs first, carefully…
Rarely for this year, it was still rainy,
Then I tackled a job most risky…
The bowl of disinfected hot water…
To the main room, I had to porter,
No Accifauxpas, with that water,
Stuck my feet in the bowl, with anti-fungal,
But I forgot to fetch the towel…
So I dried off with some kitchen towel,
Went to empty the bowl in the in the WC,
Dropping it as I poured it into the toilet bowl,
I stubbed my toe, boy, did I howl!
I wanted to throw in the towel…
Instead, I made a brew…but I couldn’t find it. Nor my mobile!
Give up, swear, curse and growl,
Depression Duncan was invincible,
High Horis was absent or invisible…
Most of this is immaterial,
Bad-luck? I’ve had jugful…
I sank into a mental jungle,
My mind was in a twisted muddle,
Too many problems to juggle,
Life seems no longer manageable,
Everyday, more mishaps & trouble,
My brain & soul are no longer mutual,
My joints & bones are no longer malleable,
Problems not hideable or mothballable,
Cognitive Impairment, sanity not recuperable,
I’ve no slippers left because I’ve pee’d in them all,
Proving that I’m ever more adorkable,
I still feel that life nowadays is not workable…
I also seem to be growing more sulkable,
My thoughts & ideas are now circumstantial,
I sense I’m becoming somewhat augural,
In High Horis’s absence, I’m apoplectical,
I was once perceptible, & palopable,
Will Horis ever return? I’m still hopeful,
Gawd, that entity made me so cheerful,
Does this read all agathokakological?
With problems neurological & physical,
Seemingly ignored by anyone medical,
What chance? Is logic salveable?
Unobtainable, unreasonable, or unworkable?
Sorry, this may sound morbid, apocryphal,
It’s just that I’ve had a belly full,
Dementia, Incogniscence… are they…
mendable, rectifiable or even explainable?
I made a meal that looked rather eatable,
Unfortunately, in the morning, at half-past two,
I’d only been in bed for a minute, too!
Off again to the Porcelain Throne, I flew,
I had another ,
The evacuation started before it was due!
Much foul language was used, I can tell you,
It was unstoppable, smelly and impromptu,
More time lost, much cleaning up to do,
Arithmetic, I nowadays misconstrue,
But, did I enjoy my meat & potato stew!.

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Just had a short visit from!
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Today felt like anything go-wrongable went wrongable. Repeatedly.
My mind took a holiday.

Scribbled notes on the pad and a few photos triggered some memories.

04:20hrs: Removed the nocturnal catheter bag.
I Put the kettle on. Then, I soaked the socks in disinfectant from the urine mishap—how many times has that happened this week? I made up three waste bags. I put them near the front door, where they remained for two days with the following added ones. Could I remember to ask the caregivers to take them to the shute? No!
I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Tuesday.
By then, I’d overwritten the pictures taken as I got them all mixed up with each other. I must have lost at least a dozen photos! Self-hatred, stupidity, and a smidge of anger with myself.

Yet again, Unbelievable!
I was emptying the day bag, and the intercom rang; it was the Carer. As it seems habitual nowadays, I did not fully close the bleed valve on the catheter pouch.
More foul, self-cursing emanated.
Another high-risk activity is carrying a bowl of disinfected water to remove the pong of urine on my feet. Mind you, I’ve done it three times (not closing the valve and carrying water from the kitchen to the front room and back). No, I’ve done it four times this week. I ran the hot water tap cold six times. And I swore (Estimated) 12,456 times this week thus far. Only one more day left to increase these figures. (Which I can you now, I did!)

All my slippers are already in the laundry bag.
And with the Carer not putting on the diabetic socks, I walked the stink all over the rooms. I was not up to mopping, but I sprayed all the carpeting with a fabric freshener and the rooms with air spray. I still can’t find the small blue towel. But give me time. I’ve only been looking for it for two weeks. Untidy is the kindest word to describe the flat.

I think this photo might be from another previous day. Cause I can’t recall any prescription medications being delivered. Mind you, later on, when I got a phone call, the lady asked me why I had not attended the meeting with the neurologist at The Ropewalk. I felt silly asking where the Ropewalk was.
After cringingly apologising and thanking her for setting up a new emergency date for the examination (August 28th), I checked my calendar. There was nothing on there. .

Not sure about this photo either.

Or when this one was taken.
What day was it taken?

I went to get the much-needed ablutions done, but I needed to use the porcelain Throne first.

Morrison order. The photos have been overwritten—all of them! No, hang on. I’ll check to see if I put them in the wrong folder. I’d be daft enough to have…
Well, after searching, I could not find them in any file. I went on CorelDraw to download Tuesday’s files and realised I’d left the photos on the CorelDraw page. So, I had to change all the names and save them again to use here. I sense big cock-ups in the offing!
I found some snaps.
I think these were the right ones.
But…
They are, I’m nearly certain.
Well…

I had better stop here if I’m getting deeper into a quagmire of confusion with three days of blog photos and notes and the wrong days of events shared between the three. I think duplicity is a possibility for these three blogs. Sorry if this is so.

Many photos in the preview are different from those in the editor. I’m sorry again; I can’t find out why. If this continues, I’ll have to give up. Anger-Making!

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Cheers!
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Inchy: Sunday 25th February 2024

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Oh, heckithump!

A tinge of brown in the first-morning snap of the view from the kitchenette?

Thus, I evacuated the splashy sludge.

The brown clouds had lessened.
A hazy-looking moon got through.

I did the waste bags and then made up the day’s spring water bottles.

Getting lighter now.
Frost was on the ground, but that soon cleared up, especially on the bottom field, decorated with footfall-made paths.

Despite my guzzling away at the water, the flow from bladder to pouch was far less today.

Late afternoon.

I had a search for Meals-on-Wheels, as it was known on the web. Totally confused. As I am with the instructions over the Diabetic Course Email. I sent a reply on Friday explaining that I did not know which of the options to choose. No indication of where they would be held, and I have to sign up in a few days or not get on the waiting list. I’ll ask Carer Kara if she can contact them for me. Miguel… no Manuel… well, one or the other to clarify the situation, location and when. If I remember.

Bye-bye, sunshot.

Veg soup, nosh. Had just two thin rounds of bread, and some potatoes were in with the beans.
Sad, innit? Hehe!

I did… but not in the time allotted.
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Late Carer Came. Socks were not taken off, and no nocturnal pouch was attached to the catheter. It’s my fault; I forgot to ask for it to be done.

Cheers!

Inchy: Wednesday 24th January 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Another busy day. But, not not in a wrong way. The pleasure of Vampire Nurse Hristina coming to take my blood for the Warfarin INR checks. Another of my Angels. So sweet & patient, too, and the best bloodtaker I know. Very rarely have bled after she does me! ♥ called for her financial help visit. She ordered a lift for me following Monday, to the Diabetes Clinic in Bulwell. We were too early to book the doctor’s visit in February, but Kara will remind me nearer the time. ♥ She also pointed out how to use the TV remote again; I’m just not taking anything new in, nowadays… well, not keeping it in, anyway. She then made up the meal at the chair table for me – What a gal! She took the laundry down with her for me as she left. She’ll replace the catheter pouch in the morning.

I rose gingerly and felt so cold, as 05:40hrs. Removed the slightly dark urine bag and emptied it. I had a bit of a struggle to get the link tube out, but I got there without any .

Maddeningly Mangled Morning Moon Images

The last one was a smidge betterer!

Signs of a guilt-promoting nature in the bin!

Made a mug of Glengettie tea. 
I planned to drink it while blogging. But…
Was interrupted by the need for a rear-end evacuation. And what a messy one, it was!
Had a wash and got the tended to. Then I got daily as and if needed ones attended to. A lot of them were needed.
I ran out of the dry-eye spray, but I’ve a little left of the dry-eye drops. Must get some more.

I had a search around in case I might have left a bottle of the eye spray with the medical supplies in or near the Steptoe & Son rubbish room.
I’d not, Humph!

The laundry had not been returned yet. I’ll ask the Carer if they know where it is… as long as it’s not been stolen again, I’ll be content with that. Tsk!

A telephone call from the surgery confirmed the February Medicine Assessment appointment. Also, the change in the Warfarin doses, & the need to keep to them strictly. As the level is up and down, they want to know why.

I ordered some slippers from Amazon to stop people laughing at me when they called. Hahaha!
They should be here tomorrow, about 22:00hrs. The chances of me hearing the intercom or being awake at that time are questionable, to say the least.

I found these photos of the morning shots that I had unaccountably missed earlier. Well, I say unaccountably, of course, the guilt will be shared twit,  , and .
With the wind blowing hard, I took these through the kitchenette window glass. The misshaped moon and reflection of whatever it was gave it an airiness?
The wide shot of the houses qualified as terrible and artistic, I think? Hehe! It brought back to mind an arcade and Atari computer game of the 1970s. I can’t recall the name. Is there something about space?

The potato was selected to be used for the cheesy baked potato nosh.
Got the mega-spud in the oven. Getting the ingredients together and the catheter day pouch emptied.
Hours later, when the potato was nearly done, I got the knife and cutlery ready to cut the spud in half and mash it up with some Leicester Cheese, sea salt, black pepper and a knob of Flora no-butter butter…
Getting the sharp knife, I, once again, knocked the box off of the shelf… Double-Humph! One of the cheaper knife blades broke into two, another the tip snapped off, not be seen again… (I anticipate finding it, or instead treading on it with no shoes on, later)
Emptied the flesh into the mixing bowl.
And gave the contents a food mashing up.
I put a plaster on the cut fingernail afterwards.

Carer Chris called… or was it Carer Israel?

Finally, I got the nosh served up.
I rinsed, put the pots in the sink, and took the meal to the front room. I very nearly had an . Luckily, I often do this; I was unsure if I’d left the tap running, so I went back to the kitchen to check… and I had! The plaster had come off of the finger and blocked the sink plug hole! The sink had filled virtually to the highest point. So I dived, moved the bowl, and yanked out the plaster. Saving the day and water-alert alarm going off! What a Hero!
I ran the three scalded fingers under the cold tap and applied some Germolene. The finger had stopped bleeding, so it needed no attention.
Back to the meal… eating it from the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner, using the Carer Kara sorted out for me collapsible table.
The cheesy potatoes were fantastic!
The burgers were horrible.
The wheatmeal rolls were okay.
The HP fruity sauce… Eurgh!

Going darker again.

Evening all!

They might have said Schoolboy’s Face!

TTFN

Inchy: Friday 29th December 2023

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04:05hrs: I woke up, bursting into singing, badly out aloud; Oh, What a Beautiful Morning …
Oh, all right then...
I realised I needed a good shave and wash when I sniffed my torso as I got up to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. Hehe!.
The urine was a little dark again.
I was hobbling a smidge dodgily. I went into the kitchen, with the usual fear coming on that I’d find the hot tap or stove had been left on, but all was clear. As I took a photo of the high-in-the-sky moon.
I made a right mess of that one. Tried again…
This one was not a lot better.

Getting the diabetic socks off was not easy, and twice, I nearly took a tumble trying to get back upright after each sock was clawed off the legs. It had to happen, of course, as I tripped on the leg quilt that I had taken off. Somewhat painfully, although I didn’t hit the deck, managing to lean toward the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibblings, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly-grotty, no longer working, dirty beige recliner, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300, ten years ago from the charity shop, which broke my fall. 

. This displays my stupidity, as I was about to go to the wet room to have a stand-up wash and shave, thus washing off the Germolene in the process. Humph!

Off to the wet room. First things first…
Yellowy, runny, stinky!
Above all, it was messy!

I’d got the larger Morrisons PPs on and set about removing them along with the dried blood from , after he’d been tugged at by the . The crusted haemoglobin broke, and red flowed down my leg onto the floor. I had to clean it up before starting shaving, in case I slipped on it. That’s two close calls this morning. At the back of my mind, I knew a third was due.
A good job. I rose early again. But had to rush things a little in case the Carer called early.

Got the floor cleaned and started to get the shaving done. Things went well today. Just one teeny-weeny nick on the ear hole. But not for long...
Putting the razors away and dropping them both it was a deja vu again! I hit my forehead on the edge of the sink, and noticed, somehow, I’d missed it earlier when shaving, but the red-eye was back again. 
Well, that was the third out of the way.

Dressing gown back on; it was a little cold without the strappings and socks on. But not for long…
Ten minutes later, arrived. She Germolened the right leg for me first off.
Then got the diabetic sock on for me, and we got the leg straps on between us. She did a good job of them. Then she issued the medications for me.
She’s spent a little longer with me than usual due to the extra fittings needed, and she had to rush off. Bless her. Did a good job all around.

I was on the blogging, and doing well, I thought.
Suddenly it was three hours later, and called on me. I was in a bit of a state of losing the memory of what I’d been doing for so long, and I mentioned the FND symptoms, of which memory loss is included, and she listened to me, which was nice. She took the laundry down with her for me.

After she’d departed, I made a brew of Glengettie.

Then returned to the computer to see what I’d been doing for hours. I came across a cloud photo that I must have taken earlier too.
This inspired me to take a look at the end car park mudslide, and I took this.
The pool had shrunken a little.

The leggings had not slipped. Mariam had done a good job on them this morning.

I made another mug of tea, and to my surprise, turned up. Where had the time gone? I was not concentrating at all.

No rush, I related the FND findings, but each time I looked at him he was on his mobile phone. Hehe! Nothing unusual with that. I was getting things off my chest to anyone who’d listen today. Even those who didn’t listen. Hahaha!

It is not advisable to think that because things like & have occurred three times in a day, and you have prevailed, it does not mean the fourth will not be the start of the next three. If you get my grift? I decided to get the oven heating up for the sausage and roast potatoes to be cooked for the daily meal later on.

I dropped the tray of potatoes, oh Woe…
The dish landed on my ingrowing toenail toe, 
Slipped, retrieving each potato…
On the oven, I banged my elbow,
Got them in the oven, on the wrong regulo,
And I’ve lost my remaining libido! 
Hehehe!

Do not be idle like wot I was, and buy any Asda prepared frozen roasting potatoes for any meal.
You will not like them unless you like the flavour of mushy-crushed cardboard. I imagine if anyone ate them, they would end up with tummy aches, as wot I did. And I only ate four of them before dishing the others in the waste bin, post haste.
Although Not Glorious This Time!

Washing the pots, and the view on offer from the kitchenette widow, although a little dull with the clouds, was still Bootiful!
Then a closer Kodak Tim shot was taken.
A charm in this one?

CHEERS!

Inchy’s Odes: An mix of old, new, bad, indifferent

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Insanity is coming along much quicker,
Bus rides are getting bumpier…
Medications getting costlier,
They now charge for a courier,
It all helps to make me crankier,
 Depressed, sour and crabbier,
The internet is ever crappier,
My midriff is a lot chunkier!
My mental resistance is crumblier,
All women I see are curvier…
Can’t expect life to get any cushier,
WC evacuations are mushier…
I’ll never again be a wee-weer!
Oddly, I’m feeling gloomier,
Yet life is actually funnier!
Remembering things are now foggier,
I forget my papules are itchier, 
My piles & fungal lesions are bloodier…
But, now I’m not such a worrier!
Forgetting that I’m going loonier!
Not bothered about getting scruffier,
On my feet, I’m getting unsteadier, 
I may well be a crap Odester,
I’ve got tins of Golonkowa….
And some self-raising flour,
The doctor said I’ve got gastrectasia!
And my mind developed ecdemomania,
Forgot what they are now, but I’ll endure…
With eyesight & hearing so poor,
But I’m not bothered, that’s for sure…
Did I tell you of my knee fracture?
Or the catheter bag puncture?
2 mugs of tea a day, said my doctor!
I had three of Glengettie, lovely flavour!
A lousy life, death I will savour!
Probably bleed to death, using the razor?
I’m cheerfuller now, well, not so dour…
No time for sulking, or sorrow…
Someone’s calling to unblock the sewer,
My moments of gloom, get fewer!
I’ve never been an achiever…
Been a giver, not a receiver…
In some things, I’m a believer,
Well, I was, but what, I can’t remember…
I don’t regret my life being a schlocker…
I’ll just continue to panic & dither,
I know no other way, either!

TTFNski, Each! ♥

Inchy: Wed 15 Nov23: My Sarkiness Blossomed Today!

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Another day infested with problems granted to me by the
The Virgin Media Internet connection was farcical again. At least Mike Fries, Chief Executive Officer and Vice Chairperson of Liberty Global, still gets his guaranteed take-home salary of  $62m, FY2, with bonuses and an open-ended expense account. So, it’s nice that I can get the satisfaction of knowing that my being so gullible, near to bankruptcy, stupid, incapable and mentally disturbed, gives me contentment. I get a warm glow from within, knowing that my failings and incompetencies are contributing to the money-monger, blithely unconcerned about customers, with their sham, bogus false interest in offering a workable internet, financial welfare.
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03:50hrs: The catheter nocturnal pouch was removed.

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Much later, went to make a brew of Glengettie.
The house that’s been being done up for about three months, didn’t show signs of activity.

The tea was placed near the out-of-action landline telephone, and I let it go cold.

arrived, and did a grand job of fitting the new . Medications were handed out and then the lad set about replacing the Kevla-ended for me. Shaquille did a very good job of them as well! Thanks, Shaq!

Doctor Vindla phoned on the mobile. But it was hard to hear what she was saying… and made things worse with having just gone down for about the third time, and me losing some work I’d done, and I was getting all uptight at the time she rang me. , with me not hearing her, she could now not understand me. In the end, she did say,: “Ask Carer Kara to ring me, so she can explain. I can’t understand what you are saying!” Embarrassed, I rang off. I’ll ask Kara if she calls later. I tried to find the list of things to mention… if  I actually made one, I was possibly waiting for to come again, so she could go through it with me to check I’d not missed anything? Anyway, if I had, I’d lost it.
Ah, life can be a bummer!

I was busy farting around for an hour or so, trying to get the  back online. And chimed out from the front door. I was delighted to see that it was no other arriving than the pretty, kind Obersturmbannfuhreress, Ice skating champion, florist, ILC (Independent Living coordinator), and, not to be messed with, saviour and comforter, Warden Julie.
On a rescue mission to save me yet again from my unreliable  imposed picklement, danger, fretting and getting further confused, Bless Her ♥!
She whipped a box out of the bag, to reveal a temporary box to use for the Alert Alarm replacement while I awaited the arrival of the connect device from to be delivered, to get the phone working again.
Julie fitted it in no time for me. It had go on the floor, cause the lead was not long enough to reach any furniture. I immediately clocked that this was excellent! When I take the odd tumble, I have to go on my and , with knees, with the risk of bursting to get to the alert Box anyway, so it would be easier to use it now.
Clever stuff, Julie! I fang you!

called. I explained about the Alarm situation, as told to by ILC (Independent Living Coordinator),
Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Deana yesterday, told the Carers that when the link comes from Oligarch-ridden arrives, the Carers must advise the Wardens of its arrival, so they can arrange to have it fitted so that the landline telephone will work again. Of course, this is subject to its actual arrival, and relies on not to make any more cock-ups that they already have made! What am I saying? The total brown-outs in the last four hours are standing at nine already.
Last week they failed to get a connection to me or browned out at least 85 times. They sent the wrong date for the fibre change that lost me and so many others the use of their Alarm Alert boxes and landlines… so expecting the number-crunching, dodgy-dealing number-crunchers at , to get anything right, is something one doesn’t get too hopeful about. Pessimistic, morelike. Hello, another update on the quality and service of here.. From who pay their cliquey, elite, select CEO $62 million a year.
Jealous? Me! Yes!

I treated myself to one of the Iceland vanilla ice cream tree suckers. I liked these; they were not sickly sweet. A nice flavour and, with my rotting teeth, is very easy to eat!

, who fitted the ankle and leg straps back this morning, did an excellent job on the. He’s got the knack, no doubt about that! Cheers, mate! As the darkness began to fall, I took this shot through the balcony doors and window from the computer chair. Well, I had plenty of time, what with more browning-outs from the figure-shuffling, illusion, deception, hocus-pocus, mumbo-jumbo, and number-crunching, .

It wasn’t letting me get the signal back, no matter what I tried this time. I cursed out loud, wishing the cacodemons would get my own back for me, and ease my hatred by painfully killing off as the Oligarchal financial entity that it has become, and the bosses at the same time. A man can dream!

I shan’t tell you about a little daydream I had whilst suffering with the painful, smelling, stinking, second evacuation session. But there’s a link in there about my thoughts, dedicated to….

FIND THE FAULT
I bet all the English folks got this one right. As you see, the driver’s half cab on his 1959 double-decker bus, was on the wrong side in the top photo. Did you notice the metal discs on the back of the seats? I think they were ashtrays and cigarette stubber-outerers? I thought this might be another Fault. As cigarettes and smoking, were not allowed in the lower saloon, upstairs only. Or, I may be wrong. It has been known. Hehe!

The potatoes had boiled sufficiently for me to get on with making a feast for myself. It took me a long time to get the flesh from the skins of the halved potatoes. Then, it took me a good hour to chop & mix them with the Cheddar and Leicester cheese, then scoop the mixture, seasoned with sea salt, Worcester sauce and black pepper, back into the husks. Next, I put them into the preheated oven and Germolened my burnt fingers, where I’d cut where I caught some fingers on the oven racking and dropped the knife, and it fell on my ankle left bone and cut the same finger as I rescued it from the floor. Then clean up the fallen and trodden on bits of flesh from the kitchen floor. By the time I’m done all this, the potatoes were checked, and found to be ready for noshing! Good job I’d put the Germolene on, cause that’s where I might have burnt myself again, taking the tray out of the kiln..
4: I nibbled a bit of the crispy potato top plating them, and it tasted so nice, that I hastened to get settled down and start eating them. I was just finishing the last one off, and the smell of burning that was coming from the kitchen

5: This told me I must have left the oven on! I grabbed the , and went to the kitchenette to investigate… As I was going in the doorway, not wearing my spectacles 6: I suffered a short . As I automatically reached to steady myself and help Metal Micky keep me upright, 7: as my hand connected with the surface and edge of the counter corner… 8: (The light was not on yet), I remembered I’d put the sausages I’d cooked on there, and forgot all about eating them, in my haste to consume the cheesy potatoes! I think it was then two of the bangers burst open and sprayed me, my dressing gown, running down the side of the cupboards and onto the floor with their contents, that I wanted to cry! The blasted was enough to break anyone’s spirits. But now, at my getting tired and weary status, I faced all the cleaning up to do! 

NOTE: Writing this, tomorrow night; yes, the acted up even more tomorrow! Do you know, I nearly deleted it? No one is going to believe that anybody can have such persistent, on-stop, unending, Voodoo or hoodoo-plagued bad luck when they read this!
I was a little puzzled myself!

I’m already 24 hours behind with the blogging.
So, until… well, if ever there is a vague chance of Working properly again, as it did when it was owned by Richard Branson… I’ll never forgive him for selling his to the plutocratic, pathetic, figure amending and altering, analysations, deconstruction, dissection and manipulativeness of their evaluations, interpretations of the real facts that exist! Yet they continue to buy into so many more internet suppliers companies or buy them out, so as to get their Oligarchal advantage; thus, they can get away with being such crap providers, cause as I see it, anyone leaving Virgin, can only move to another supplier that will own or part-own anyway!

Quote from Mike Fires, CO: Mike Fries Liberty Global delivers next-generation products through advanced fibre and 5G networks, providing over 86 million connections (That doesn’t work, but he fails to mention this in his comments!), across Europe and the UK.
Quote from Wallmine: The estimated net worth of Michael T Fries is at least $175 Million dollars as of 1 May 2023. Mr Fries owns over 215,802 units of Liberty Global plc stock worth over $28,917,283 and over the last 10 years, he sold LBTYK stock worth over $22,634,655. In addition, he makes $123,254,000 as Vice Chairman of the Board, President, and CEO at Liberty Global plc. Oh, I am pleased for the Oligarch!
Well, that’s a new record for him. Well done, Mike! (Spit)
He’s left hundreds of people in care without any alarm lines and telephones, too. Tomorrow, today’s count of failures was dwarfed by shame; he more than doubled it!

I am Fed Up! Tsk!

Inchy: Fri 10 Nov 23 No Help-Alarm Now!

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Well, well, well! Another series of cock-ups, disappointments, failures, frustrations and a fair share of self-misanthropicalness thrown in today, Again!
The landline telephone that went down yesterday brought more worry again today. After trying to press the Alarm Alert button while Carer Sam was here, the Panic Alarm was not connecting either! Carer Sam said she’d tell someone about it.
A fine time to take a tumble or go arse-over-tit, innit?
This, along with , bringing tablets back up. Bring up vicious winds. Ever present & the mind-killing carping on at me, it was another frustrating, barely tolerable day at moments. With misappropriate, miscomprehending mental mind meanderings, making anything simple seemed to be a mountain to tackle! Messy!
I felt pitiful, self-critical one moment, then snivelling psychologically damaged erk the next. Later, despite the concerns and worries, I’d find myself singing 1962 songs, and it seemed, genuinely unbothered about things? But somehow, I knew at that time, in the back of my so-called mind, that this would crumble again soon, and the loathed, nay, feared, opens the barn door for , and the cycle of freeing myself from his grip begins again. I seem to do this in auto mode; the short-term memory can have greatly opposite benefits, as in this case. Conversely, mega-frustration and self-criticism can develop when you genuinely cannot recall what you were doing or going to do. When the turn into a , then the tormenting bafflements sink in.
I can never forget what I was doing before the blank period. Sort of coming around or back into focus, often hours later, the interim time’s activities are lost forever.
When the Doctor calls me next Wednesday, I hope to have made a list of my ailments and problems, possibly with the help of , if possible. So I don’t miss anything off the notes that may need mentioning. Later on today, I got a call from the Doctor’s surgery. I couldn’t hear who it was, but some medico would call on me in the morning on the 4th of December. (Mobile or in person?)
Another took over when I realised that, yet again, I got the order from Asda all wrong. I’d have bet money on double-checking and finding it right, but no! I intended and thought I’d ordered it for next Thursday. It came this morning! Can I get any help with this problem? Of course not. One becomes aware of The mind’s fallibilities whenever Doreen Dementia… No, I forgot, nowadays it is, of course, it’s who’s the culprit, the brain-slayer. Yet, here I am writing away, with problems from failing, typing and sensing with the finger ends, which causes some complicated issues with the computer at times. However, at this moment, my brain seems concentrated on what I’m doing? These odd moments of semi-clarity never last for long; they never do. Sadly.
Another thing that amazes me even more is how I can still do the silly Odes. They seem to flow from my distorted brain quickly enough. Typing them can be frustrating, but not the creating? Ah, there is one problem I do often have is: when I get an idea for a funny line and have to check nowadays to see if the word is suitable, spelt right, and rhymes, I’ve forgotten what I was going to write on that line using the aforementioned words or words. Yet the ideas still come without much prompting? I mentioned this once to the lady at the bonkers hospital meeting. I do not think I got any acknowledgement or response.
is constantly with me. Day and sometimes wakes me up at night to have a go at me for my failings, past guilts, wrong decisions, etc.
A new worry to add to the list: The telephone has stopped working. Today, I tried to test the Emergency Wrist Alarm. That is not working either! Now, this does worry me. He was with me at the time this failure occurred. She told me she’d mention it to someone. But being a Friday afternoon, and the Wardens leaving soon for the weekend, my hopes of getting any help are minimal… or slightly less, of getting anything done about the problem before next week! 
Now that I’ve mentioned this on the blog, my worry mode has kicked in. What if I do have a tumble, a bad cut, another stroke or get a panic attack? How can I summon help other than with the mobile phone, which is not easy to use nowadays anyway? I will always try to remember to keep the Nokia with me while there is no Alarm to raise for help. But naturally, for me, remembering is not going to be easy. So, if the blog suddenly stops, the reason may well be that I’ve collapsed and died slowly, an overweight, crumpled heap on the carpet, over the weekend in agony. Oh, no, the Carers will call. They know or should have been told of my high-risk factor with no way of summoning help and may make extra checks on me; bless them. So, if they forgot to tell the Wardens or the Wardens had gone home before they got there, it would be Monday before they could be informed of my plight. Then, wait for the Nottingham City Homes to be informed and respond. I don’t intend to have another stroke, heart attack, panic attack or bleed to death, but just in case, I’d like to take the opportunity to thank them all now for the care and attention they have showered me with. My Money is in the wet room, under the stack of Depend Protection Pants on the floor cabinet… first comes first, Gerrit! Hahaha!

On with the day’s photographicalisationings

Don’t recall why I took two of these?
But I took them, so I put them on.

Morning view.

Rotten photo of the rotten-tasting mug of tea.

Selected small Anya potatoes in the crock pot.

I forgot to ask the Carer to put the back on for me. Plonker!

Self-medicationings attended to.
Some painfully, so. Haha!

I did it again. Ordered Asda for the wrong day!
I was sure I’d ordered it for next Friday, too!
The fridge and freezer were well stocked. Tsk!
I put the pressies in a box and placed the pyjama bottom that I could no longer get into on top to disguise what was inside and stop anyone from spoiling the surprise.
Crafty!

Lightening up now.

Blogging away…
arrived. Bringing some prescription medications and a bag from the District Nurse’s clinic.

More ankle straps and leg strappings.

And a pair of ‘All-Purpose Boots’ for me.

These could be to replace the ankle straps?
But I couldn’t manage to get them on myself.
Too many Kelva and complicated fitting are needed.
Maybe this is about the Medico coming to see me?


Eerie early evening sky.
(Say that when you’ve had a few) Hehe!


Hog pork pie in the meal.

Just after sunset.


I forgot to ask him to put the on.

FARE THEE WELL!

INCHIE: Tuesday 18th July 2023 – Feeling Senticous

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I realise this may be hard to swallow, but I made yet another worrying set of this morning.
I was sat here at the computer desk… well the 1963-bought, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off, having one of my regular panicky modes. And Carer Kara arrived, which always has a calming effect on me. She asked if both of the Thursday appointments had been moved to Wednesday, or just one of them? Panic-Mode Status up to Defcon three! I’d not thought about that! I think she got the idea I was getting worked up when I started to sob and whimper?
Would the Hospital expect me to go two days running? The thought of having to catch a bus and tram there and back put fear in my heart. Mind you there was a fair bit lingering in there, over the thought of having to get trousers, socks and shoes on after the 2-hour ablutioning session each time, already)
Kara got the details and said she’d try to sort me a lift with Easy-Link and find out about the appointments for me.
When the second Carer, Sam arrived at midday. All had been sorted out, much to my amazement, Easy-Link could fit me in! Also, both appointments will be on! Yes!
A quicker-than-usual blog though, I have to find the time for the full ablutionalisationing session somehow.
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An excellent shade of urine!

Not much rain last night, and no dog to watch bathing in it!

After tending to the needs of the , which was very messy and phooey…
I went to make a brew of Glengettie.
Tea GlengettieAnd took a photo of the tree copse area.
Bootiful!

Got the computer on…
After three minutes! ARRGH!

As it returned, Carer Kara, my Angel of Mercy arrived.
See the Prodrome above for further details.
drops in, medications supplied, then after five minutes, the drops inserted. I remembered this time to stick my finger in the eye for three minutes.
Well, Kara reminded me too!

,
This lasted for about five minutes…

This lasted for about one minute…
Then surprisingly, it stayed on for two hours! So I got as much done as I could in that time.

Then Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit.
The great news is that the appointment is for one day only, and the lift had been arranged with Easy-Link. Brilliant!
Sister Jane phoned as Sam was about to leave and answered it for me. Jane said she’d ring back later
Well fancy that!
So, I called Sister Jane back. She rang on the mobile that I rang her on, I can’t remember her number on the landline.
We had a good natter. Turns out she’s just had her cataract done again. But the poor thing’s experience was the opposite of mine. She was in pain afterwards, and she still is. Poor Jane!
We still managed a laugh or two though; that’s us!

I got on with blogging, again-this believe it or not, was the last failure up to now… a period of four hours! From the
Doing well, aren’t they!

Earlier shot from the computer chair, that I’d missed.

The oddest ever trip to the Throne this was… well, maybe not!
I really thought that was losing his grip on the evacuations. For things didn’t seem to want to start moving, naturally, I thought this could mean a cement torpedo or two… but no! After a good ten or twelve minutes on the crossword puzzle... WHOOSH!
Splatter squelch, and all over in less than 30 seconds.
What a mess to clean up!

Into the kitchenette…
Got the potatoes on the boil…
And took this picture.

Then the above snap of the legs, feet and toes.
They did not look like they were mine!
So much improved inflammation in the lower leg, no leaks from the , either! However: and were making up for that. Both get frisky as the day goes on.

Better get the nosh sorted out before the evening Carer arrives.
See you in a bit…

Tuesday Morning Catch-Up
The evening meal
Cheese & onion pasties, potatoes, peas and beetroot.
Cheesecake for afters.
Flavour Rating: 7.2/10.

Went to get the evening’s ablutions done – No Hot Water!

Carer arrived. I mentioned the lack of hot water and asked him to get someone to call the NCH maintenance for me. In and out quickly tonight; the lad was looking tired. Eye drops & medications sorted.

I got up to wash the pots.
Wonderful view!
Close-up of the wonderful view.

Zzz!

INCHIE: Sunday 2nd July 2023 – Inchie-Alto Ode

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GOOD MORNINGETH EACH

04:30hrs: I dragged my ailment-ridden, Neurotransmitter-Failing body from the comfort… well, okay, skip that bit… from the depths of my nocturnal-protector, the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, sickenly beige-coloured recliner. Removed the night bag with some difficulty, from my . The colouring, using the NHS chart guide, was number five. I’ve had it a lot worse.

I didn’t enjoy my morning visit to the wet room, particularly the visit. had withdrawn from his battle for control of my evacuation’s constitution with … Who celebrated by offering torpedoes that disintegrated as they shot out of the rear end and splattered into the bowl and water, distributing a messy, sickeningly-clingy, foul-ponging, puke-producing aroma. And to think that I was in there two days ago for over an hour, desperately trying to encourage the cement-like, clunking against the porcelain, torpedoes that eventually, painfully escaped. Yet both modes produced some bleeding from ?

The morning Carer arrived, and I had a look at the leg wounds suggesting I get to the hospital with them. I explained, well, I can’t get to the hospital without the legs. Haha! Brought a smile and laugh that did!

Tea and bikkies time… and why is this so?
Yes, the World Wide loose money manipulators, struck again!
While their facade, overlay, giving an aimed at the money-markets, veneer of professionalism, respectability, integrity and probity. They have bought up or invested in hundreds of internet and mobile phone companies… But why? They have no idea how to run them? Or treat customers? As I have mentioned before, this oligarchal smoke & mirrors , has to have an ulterior motive for spending billions of dollars to buy out, or invest in just about every other national competitor there is? To such a point, that their crap service is of no bother to them at all. Anyone (customer) leaving Virgin Media will have to go with another company that is almost guaranteed to be owned or part owned by ! Hello, it’s come back online!
It went off I’d guess, I didn’t keep a record of it today, about eleven times minimum, as I know of. I did keep a record of each time they caused me to lose work and had to do it again, and that was eleven.
Pure jealously you see: about Fires F’ing things up for me and getting paid a $26 million salary, a guaranteed bonus in shares, and an open-ended expense account. And here they are, cocking my life and love (blogging) up… with me in trouble with the bank account, that is a little short of Fries and the other oligarchs, without a doubt. But I don’t mind really… well, I do mind, but it’ll only add to the extreme pleasure they get for fiddling with honest people, overcharging for a shockingly inept internet connection, growing ever-more better off… I wish it was me doing it! Why? I’m not sure…

On the seventh failure of the profit-addicted oligarchs from . I then sorted out the laundry bag.
It didn’t take me long. Then did some preparations for an early meal, later. came back online… it does that sometimes.
I opened the email and was so appreciative to find that carer who took photos of the wounded legs for me, had sent them to me; bless her cotton socks, that was so kind of her. Think it was Saturday when she took them.

The top one was where the bottle of soda water I dropped had hit the leg ulcer on its way down, before hitting the ingrowing toenail on the left foot.

The second one down, was of the same area, from another angle.

She’s a natural when it comes to photographicalisationing, is she not? No messing she took them on her mobile phone within a minute I think, every one of them is a work of art… Which gives an idea, I wonder if the Tate Gallery might be interested in buying them? Hehehe!

An interesting one next down.
It is the largest one of all the .
Today, a sort of gel was creeping out, instead of the usual thin liquid? Looks like I’ve got hundreds of tiny tattoos?

It was on the inner ankle of the left foot.
The gal then took two quick snaps of the new underneath-the-skin blood patches that had developed overnight.
They are very pretty; shame about them being painful, though. Then the new growths around the toes. The centre three toes were still warped shape, and varied between blue and brown colouring?
I took some further pictures of how the leg ailments were looking now. They are not as good as Joannes, but still, they do show some changes; for the better, I think.

Naturally, they were still painful, especially if I catch them against anything, but I took extra care.
The puss that was coming out of the , had reduced greatly. And appeared to be less thick than yesterday, too.
In the early evening, the skies offered me an amazing few minutes of joy, an absolute  . Each one of the pictures I took! Can you see anything in this first one on the right? I’d love to know what I see is actually in there?
The second, on the left here, was more a sheer delight than anything, just to view it.
Marvellous Nature!
Since moving into the high-rise flats, things have not all been good, but the views… can be magnificent.
I got the nosh started.
The sky changed completely within ten minutes, and the sun; which was on its way down – burst through as the clouds broke up.
A bean meal, two minutes in the microwave or five on the hob. Which I chose, so I could stir in some Borscht. That’s why they appear so red. A dollop of BBQ sauce was added; three wholemeal rolls were made into chip sarnies and dunked into the sauce. Grrreat! Flavour-Rating: 8.8/10!

The sky and weather had changed by the time I went to get the pots washed!

I took this bad photograph

quickly, as rang out as the last Carer arrived. It was Richard; not seen him for a while.
He said I should see the doctor about the legs and feet. I explained that Kara had rang the doctor, who said if it get worse, go to the Treatment Centre. We had a little natter, and off he went saying he’ll be back in the morning Toucn of the Clint Eastwoods there, Hahaha! Oh, no, that was Arnie, wasn’t it?

I shall now retire
Not from work I that 28 years ago!
But to my second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.
In search of sleep.

TTFN

INCHIE: Wednesday 28th June 2023

/ Inchie / 2 Comments


I love this one; just look at the dates. Hehe! 

I burst into life with a jolt, inane muttering coming from my mouth; I must have been in the middle of a dream? I detached the night bag from .
Decent-coloured urine this morning.
The need to use the arose, and so did I from the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, caught my balance, grabbed , and off to the wet room. The evacuation session was completely different this time. in complete charge. Messy!

A stand-up job. Bleeding aplenty from various departments during the washing-up, of my magnificent, muscular, firm, women-attracting body. Where from? I’ll tell yers: Teeth and gums, nose, chin, neck, head and of course the regulars, , and poor old . Oh, naturally from the inserted tube.
The took me half as long again as the flipping wash & brush-up did.
Ten minutes on the computer, and…
And, these oligarchs, heroic internet blockers who claim this: “Liberty Global is a world leader in converged broadband, video and mobile communications and an active investor in cutting-edge infrastructure, content and technology ventures” – Financially they may be, but the service is crap!

Within five hours it had been down nine times! (And more followed!) By the end of the day, the smoke & mirrors money fanatics had failed me no less than 22 times!  I really must say, My hatred for them grows!

I tried for ages to get a hold of neighbour Josie, to give her some coffees and a pink G&T. I sensed she was in, but it took me six tries… which was something to do each time that $26 million salaried boss Herr Fries led and owned companies internet failed, again and again!

Domestic Denise called. Shocked at the state of my leg. I think she mentioned it to Carer Kara, who called in quickly to check on my leg wound. Creamed it for me. I’m worried about going in the taxi tomorrow to the Bank meeting, it is painful, and my wearing trousers are bound to hurt more. Poor thing, Hehe!

Laundry returned.

Something else to do while the Liberty-Global internet is down.
I made a brew and had two cookies… oh, three!

While a carer was here, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion, florist and Warden Julie came in. I’m not certain what took place but think it was about ordering a lift with for 21 July for the EENT Hospital. Kara spoke but, I didn’t catch it all; bad timing with my old ear wax crackling again.

Back on the computer…

Ad an early meal, just a small one.
Sarnies, tomatoes and beetroot. Nice!

Not sure why or when I took this one.
From the computer desk through the balcony.

Carer Chris did the last two calls. Asked him not to put the night bag on, I’ll do it, cause going into the kitchen to make a meal with tube and bag to carry along with a walking stick, is too risky in my state. Mind you, there is always the chance of , , or maybe even a kicking off when I bend, so there is no winning either way. Hehe!

Well, fancy that, I’ve not had two meals in a day for a year or so. I good sign, mayhap; or not?

Then, washed the pots and…
took a shot of the end car park as it was beginning to darken a little. We can’t have had much rain lately; the mudslide from Woodthorpe Grange Park was noticeable by its absence!

Waking up to the flashing light from the TV screen, which did the cataract no good.
I went to check the kitchen and wet room for anything left on or off that shouldn’t be.
The amazing blue hue of the night.

Good Night!