The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchie: Tuesday 10th March 2026

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Despite the last five days of mayhem, despair and failures, I lay there in the bed and almost slightly felt hopeful that the day would be a better one. It helped, no doubt, that bothersome Back-Pain-Brenda was AWOL. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was trying to make up for that, as best she could. I removed the nocturnal catcher pouch and stood to do the morning balance exercises and assessments, and the door chime chimed. Good heavens, it was gone 08:00hrs! I did get to bed late, but I still got a decent, not broken often, five hours in.

Ejaz got the medications sorted out, foamed and creamed the toes and ankles, and again, they seemed better than the day before. But not the right leg, that seems to have accrued the oddest-looking batch of new marks, scars, spots and pimples. Almost artistic, really. Hahaha! I think the yellow streaks down the leg were due to my leaving the flash on for Kodak Tim 2. Ejaz told me that the new Carer time will be increased. But I’d forgotten the day he gave me. I’ll check later. As he trotted off, a food delivery arrived. Ejaz took the bags through to the kitchen, then the lad had to fly. Bless him.

I got on the computer to find the meal shot for last night… well, this morning had not been added, so here it is.
Soft cheese on soft white bread, Anya, knobbly potatoes. Imitation fish sticks and some tomatoes. The fries were too hard to eat, but I soon gobbled up the rest of the meal. Nice!

I thought I heard something drop from the kitchen, and went in to investigate. All seemed okay, and I got Kodak Tim-2 again and took some snaps of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I think I made another error with the last one. It came out, as you can see, totally different to the first two. Part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again! I must ask Tim Price about this phenomenon with the last snap.

A while later, I nipped out to take a picture of the end car park on Citrus Way. Did okay with this effort. Caught the sun coming down from Mapperley, high above. No mudslide on the ground this morning.

I phoned Jenny to see if I could take down some of the delivered food and treats. She mentioned that she’s read my blog, noticed that I have a wheelchair I’m not using, and asked if she could give it to a resident in need. No problem, and I got it readied for Frank to collect it later. I took two rubbish bags to the chute. Then I took down the carrier and left it outside her door, with the nibbles inside.

Frank came up to collect the wheelchair, and I showed him what I know about it, brakes for the person in the chair and the pusher, and where they were. I checked that they were all operative, working okay.

Back on the computer, CorelDraw seemed to be behaving itself, but I’m still nervous for later.

Got the day’s Ode completed. Then found a plastic envelope on the hallway carpet. It must have fallen out of the wheelchair as we struggled to get it out of the door earlier. Two stick-on reflectors. I rang Jenny to let her know. She is coming tomorrow to see Ejaz about her old mobile that she is giving me, and to get it set up, bless her cotton socks. 🌸 She said she’d collect them then.

I found a couple of many years-old photos from when I had the stroke.
The first one is at the Nottingham City Hospital, Newell ASU Unit. Where they gave me Cloperdoggerel, and the state you see my legs in was from this. They discovered I was allergic to the drugs in it. Or the Clopidogrel mixture. Sister Jane took the photo during her visit.
Then to the Oaks Care Home for a couple of months. I took the mass of get-well cards with me, all three of them. The memories of this place linger Today. This is what put me off the idea of going into one at first. A few true tales of events; ine I cannot mention, cause after the knife attack, they deemed it best not to get the police involved.
Mornings: The door would burst open, “Let’s have you up, get a wash and dressed.” Later, a loud thump or two on the door, and sometimes the door opened, and a voice would shout, “BREAKFAST IN TEN MINUTES, don’t be late!”
Weekly: Ah, the laundry, I lost a cardigan, a hat, two T-shirts, four underpants, and ended up with five odd socks. When my scarf was not returned, I bravely mentioned it to the lady who was making a right mess of putting on my leg straps, but got no answer. Then spotted a Carer in the hallway and asked if my scarf had been found. “No!” I thanked her. That night in the dining room, I sat down and saw a resident wearing a scarf similar to the one I had lost. I said nothing. Oh, I nearly forgot: one day I got the laundry back with two odd socks… my hat was missing, and as a bonus of two pink brassieres!
Tea: Thud, door opens: I once had the temerity to ask what it was. “Hot Dog!” I got down to find it was just that. A stale roll with a frankfurter in it. Nothing else, while those around me got chips, ketchup and bread.
Dinner: Thud, clunk. “Dinner in ten minutes, don’t be late.” I got down as fast as I could, but on two occasions, being new, it seemed they thought I was a visitor and got no food at all! (True!)
I made the mistake of trying to talk to the resident in the community room; just once was enough.
I asked him something like, £have you been in here long?” I got fired back at me; “I’m trying to watch the FΧπψϖϒing TV!” I sarcastically gave the staff some treats when I left, overdoing it by saying, “I like to thank you all for the great care given to me!” I waited a few seconds, then gave them all the odd socks I’d got back from the laundry; “If the others ever come back to life, or are found, you can keep these, and match them up!” My intended mockery was wasted. All I got back from any of them, well, one of them was… “Oh! Cheers!” as he opened the box of Roses and handed them around. I just had a sinking feeling… what if they decide I have to go into a home and pick this one?
I’ll be in reet-schnook then!
Then there was this photo of the Geriatric Unit, from last November’s tumble-rumble. They diagnosed me with water on the brain, Hydrocephalus (NPH). Last week, I mentioned it to the nurse and was told I didn’t have that; I’d had a small TBI in the brain. They can do nothing about it. That explains why I’ve been waiting for the trephination operation. At least I won’t need that now, and that’s why no one got in touch. Hehe!
That’s put my mind at rest.

I cracked on with the blog for a couple of hours, guzzling the mineral water like it was an elixir.
When I stood up, I recall at first thinking to myself, well, talking to me as well; ‘Well, your balance is better now, mate! Then the Catheter pouch dropped down, giving Little Inchie a surprising tug! By gum, it had filled up sharpish near the 300ml mark on the bag. I emptied it and disinfected.

I rang Jenny to ask if I could bring the stick-on reflectors to her flat. There was something we spoke about, something else, I think. But the brain is not at its best late in the day. Jenny will be calling tomorrow with the mobile phone and said she’d collect the reflectors then.
I poddled to the kitchenette and snapped a few more reasonable photographicalisations of the wild-looking clouds. They gave me the impression that they were not happy. Wonder if we’ll get a sunset view later?

Ejaz was a little quiet and unresponsive to my natterings. I hope he’s going to be alright, and not worrying about something. He should be better in the morning, when he meets with Jenny, and maybe Frank, too. We need his mobile phone skills. I can’t cope with the one I’ve got, and that has no internet on it. An easy-to-use product for the elderly, it said. Ejaz, Joe, Akram, and Mirzra have all tried to get a ringtone on the phone. And failed, what chance have I? Zilch comes to mind.

As I went to get the kettle on for the first brew of the day, I just had to take more snaps of the clouds. This first one was as wide as I could get on Koah Tim-2. Then I tried a close-up shot. To me, this is a paralania delight. The sun is doing its best to burst through the gap in the multi-shaded clouds. I saw a creature’s head, a whale shape and a ghost in this like photographicalisation. I’ll keep looking in case it changes again.

I tested the potatoes cooking in the slow cooker…
Trapped my hand in the drawer while getting the spoon. But no problem, it’s still looking good.
It’s only physical pain, I’m good with that – it’s the mental pains of existence that get to me.
Did I just write that? Good stuff !

I’d forgotten to vlean mt teeth. So off I went to the wet room and used the new soft toothbrush. Ejaz came and went ikn with me. We didn’t half laugh when we looked at the box. It had two brushes in it. They were for children to use. With an old-fashioned sucker on them, to stick it on Porcelain. Hehe!

Boy, the clouds are getting scary in a way.
I think these could be used as a cover for a horror story. Depict the lack of control, mortals have to change the inevitable?
An ever-lurking threat to humanity?
I might use one of them as an Ode leader graphic?
I know, an Ode to the influence cast by 21st century politicians & Oligarchs Today?

I think Today was my best one for months.
The feeling I had when I woke up must have come from my EQ, possibly?

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TTFN
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Inchie Today: Thursday 19th February 2026

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Today has been a rather depressing, frustrating day.
The Carer could not do the laundry again, not his fault, I hasten to mention, Oh no.
The whoever-it-was who rang to say they would be paying me a fleeting visit sometime today. This may have been about the Carer’s hours or my being placed in an old people’s home, so initially this news cheered me up. But no one came.
The District Nurse who helped me yesterday said she would call to treat the leg wound. No show, but understandable, unexpected changes.
No contact from the computer man.
I’m not surprised at this with my record.
A cold, cold day, too!
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Early morning.

Just out of interest, can you see the wrong keys on my Amazon plug-in keyboard?

Every time anything takes away or breaks my concentration, I end up with a leaking Catheter valve cause I haven’t shut it or haven’t shut it properly.
Then the painful struggle to get the socks off, a bowl of water & Dettol to wash the feet. Agony to reach down to dry them, which makes me feel dizzy and of balance, and sometimes brings on a seizure. The intercom rang…
This time, it was the food delivery arriving.

The delivery person kindly put the things into carriers for me. I got them into the kitchen. And set about putting them away.
I’d bought soft options in the food to cope with .
Meat paste, Flora No Butter spread, coffees for handing out, Dried cheese to flavour the instant potatoes, and Mushroom Pâté to put on the soft-sliced milk roll bread. I had these tonight.
Soft, uncrusted wholemeal bread.
Sauces to go with soups, instant mash, and stews.
Soy light & dark, Teriyaki, Sweet & Sour, Gong-Po, Bovril. I got them all away, some just put in the other room to sort later – which brought to light that I’d done the same on the last delivery, and ordered some of the things already in there again. As I say, I need help with my body and mind.

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The in-flat hostage.
Poor old Sausage.
Apologise to Herr
Starmer, no copyright
infringement intended

🎀 TTFNski, Each! 🎀

Inchie: Sunday 15th Febvruary 2026

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OVERNIGHT Zzz Mark 1
I flaked out almost instantly. No seizures, Arthur Itis, no Shaking-Neck-Nigel or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley disturbed my marathon sleep-in, or woke me up.
Well, it was that way for about 9 hours of unknown bliss. Until Carer Ejaz arrived. I heard him sounding the intercom, but just could not get up to admit him. He appeared next to me a few minutes later, declaring that I looked awful. He tended to my needs while I stayed reposed, bless him. Can’t recall much else.
Other than that, I think I fell back into the land of nod within seconds of him leaving.

Zzzz Mark Two
Another kip without interruption. For about 5 hours, making the current total 14 hours!
Until Carer Mizra arrived, got me out of my slumber, and started changing the day Catheter bag; a new one was put on the other leg. Painful.
When Mizra departed, I got back down again.

Zzzz Mark Three
After taking these two, I drifted off to sleep for four hours. Total amassed overnight and this morning, making a total of 18 hours in the Land-of-Nod.

Afternoon rain

A SOFT MEAL
The smoked sausages proved too
much for .
But the cheesy baked potatoes
were lovely, and eatable.

I took two photographs of the pretty-looking night sky. Then doctored them into one on CorelDraw.
Pleased for once with the result.

A few mild depressions here and there, and semi-highs with the meal and the photograph doctoring.
Pleased to get all that sleep in, but sad it’s getting me even further behind on the things not done.

Before getting my head down after washing the meal things, I gave each of the broken, cracked, chipped, loose and painful teggies a squirt of the toothache spray. Then I had a thought.
I do this now and then. Was it the toothache spray that was making me so tired and incapable of getting up? And not as I had assumed, the new Ezetimibe tablets? Mmm?

Inchie gets so easily confused,
Nae, mayhap, maybe bemused?
With incapabilities he is afflicted,
His sanity can’t be authenticated,
He’s given up trying to get adopted,
His rotting teeth get him awhaped,
Too old to get body & mind annealed,
He once played the jigger-jigger field,
Now no longer attempted,
As he waits to get aureoled…

Cheers!

Inchie: Saturday 14th February 2026

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PHOTOS HIGH & LOWLIGHTS
Woke up with little effort. With grinding away at me. So painful, I wondered how I’d managed to sleep at all. Very odd. Took the Catheter bag off. Checked the taps, etc., and turned the kettle on. I took this first snap of the morning (left). It was not as cold as I thought it would be when I opened the window. This is often a sign of snow coming. The forecast was a yellow warning for snow in Nottingham. But it didn’t fall. Unlike me, when I went to the wet room. I fell against the sink after using the Throne, and went to have a wash and do the teggies, with the prescription toothpaste. Very, very carefully. I could not avoid it hurting with the darned teeth, several of them that had somehow come loose. As much as I took care not to overly pressure them, it was a painful job. I think it must have been the crispy, cheesy potatoes I had last night. I really love them, but dare not have any more with the state of my teggies. Instant mash and cheese from now on. Not the same, but needs must. I pondered things over, and realised that the super tasty seaweed snacks, the hot ones with chilli, are much harder than the green bags ones that are lighter and thinner. And dearer too. So that’s baked cheesy potatoes, crispy seaweed snacks, and Choc Chip Cookies to remove from my favourites list. I could sob! But I’ll not yet, plenty of time for that later.

The intercom rang; it was the delivery of a Morrison order. I let him in by pressing the door release button and waited for him to arrive. This is a doorstep delivery. And waited… a little longer… and a few minutes more. Went to check on the Amazon site, “This order was Delivered Today”
I struggled to get my shoes on, my back and right shoulder were irritated, even before my treks up and down to the lobby began. I suspected that the 6 bags had been left in the ground-floor lobby. Got down and it proved right. I’d taken the three-wheeled walker with me and got two bags in it, one balancing on top between the handlebars. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then got up to the flat and put the bags in the flat’s lobby near the flat door.

2) Back down to the lobby with the three-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing more now.

3) Back down to the lobby with the three-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing even more now. I took some painkillers before putting the food away. I was fuming, but the physical aches kept me from getting mad, if that makes sense. Then got the bags, one by one, into the flatlet in the hallway. I had to leave then, and sit down to recover from my chest pains to ease the breathlessness.

Got the things put away, taking this snap of the view from the kitchenette. My anger was not easing, though. I got on the computer to try to complain to Amazon. Typical oligarch tricks again. Just like British Gas and Virgin Media… GITS! THUNDERTURDS! SWINE!
I asked Google how to complain about an Amazon delivery. Followed their advice, but couldn’t find the tab they said to click on the Your Order page.
I tried to contact Customer Services. Got through the AI’s lists until it came to selecting a reason from the following list: Nonem et my criterior. Snookered again by the Oligarchs. I didn’t find an option to ring them, but it was a 333 call, Minimum £2 a minute, plus unstated connection charges. Sod that you Oligarchs! British Gas charged me about £20, and the problem remains unresolved. The Virgin calls have cost me even more, with frequent connection drops, and they can charge a connection fee each time we have to ring back. Ejaz reckoned I’d spent £50 quid, plus connection charges, on the three calls we’ve had to make!
Back to the Amazon Oligarchs Problem.
I found where I could get them to ring me! I couldn’t, well, wouldn’t believe it, so I went through the pick you option of what to talk about, and again, my criterion was not available, but this time I found a ‘Something Else’ option that, for once, did not take me the same number of useless options. They needed my landline number. I put it in and was told, ‘That number is not recognised.’ And went back to where I started my search. I had to work hard, as the physical and mental pain Amazon had inflicted on me was getting to me more each time the telephone number was rejected.
Which was four times, four times I had to go through the system again to get to the comically-called, so-called, Customer Service to phone me.

How the Hell does Amazon get away with this and increase its turnover every year? Silly question… they are Oligarchs, of course. Virgin, owned by Liberty Global oligarchs who own or hold shares in 82% of European internet and telecommunications service providers, and, according to Forbes, pay their CEO millions of dollars a year, plus guaranteed bonuses… Jealousy on my part? Yup!

Getting like my confidence, hatred, health and mental disaffection; a little darker now. Just like Dank Dark Darius Depression is.

I’m not sure which is the most painful right now. The Physical pains, frustration, mental disruption, or the purest hatred that I’ve formed for years.

Well pee’d off, I made a brew of Glengettie, and finished off yesterday’s blog. My heart was not in it. That’s a first. I felt, and still do, so downhearted. Thanks to Amazon oligarchs.

Hello, a final, nae, first blast of the powerful but fading sun got through. Those little clouds have been showing for hours. Do you know what that means? No, nor me. Hehe!

The sun faded shortly after taking the Kodak-Tim-2 camera photo.
I went to wash the tea mug, to find that I’d left the bloody hot water tap on to run cold – Again!
The earlier depression that I thought was my lowest all year was beaten by a Mega-Depression, during which I sank to my lowest point all year.

Where is when you want him?

Well, what about food? Well, that’s controlled by .
I bought a soft sourdough sliced loaf; it was delivered, well, almost delivered today by Oligarchs Amazon. But let’s not get back on that subject. It’s still sore! I have some soft bread, but what to go on it? No-butter butter, of course, I’ve some soft blue cheese to go with the bread. Some pickled onions, I can suck them but not bite them. Huh! Luckily, I bought the cheaper but softer chicken sausages (Not hostages, Keir!), which I should be able to manage to eat. The Spanish tomatoes are out of season ones, and fat to hard skin and flesh for me to tackle, so I’ll dish them. I have a jar of sliced green tomatoes in water. I’ll see if they are manageable for my poor, cracked, broken, painful, rotting, just been checked by the dentist, who told me they’d be fine until the next visit, teggies to handle.
That was a mouthful.

Well, better get on and make the sarnies then.
Took this snap with Kodak-Tim-2, and as I closed the window, I knocked a jug of kettle water off of the window ledge. I laughed loudly, smiled, sang ‘The Hills are Alive, with the Sound of Music,’ did a backflip as I was mopping up the water… no, you’ll never believe that. I cried!

I’ll, well, I’m hoping to be back in the morning to pick up where I left off updating this fascinating, irresistible, captivating blog… No, you’ll never believe that either. I wouldn’t believe that.

SAD TOOTHACHERS MEAL TONIGHT
The sourdough bread was extra
soft and tasty. A lot of the no-butter
butter, and tomato sauce on top
of pork slices. I made an error
in not putting some of the green
tomato salad on the dish.
The seaweed was thin, but
the most tasty item.

I can’t recall him calling.

Got my head down as soon as Carer Ejaz finished the last call. Sleep came quickly, and stayed with me through until the morning Carer arrived…
More on this tomorrow!

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TTFN, have a good day!
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Inchie: Friday 13th February 2026

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I can describe today in one word!
Well, four words, then.
The day had no particular disasters, calamities, or any Accifauxpas. Naturally, the usual Whooopsiedangleplops were numerous, but not as serious as usual, (Up to now), but even the slightest things got mo me more than usual. I think the reason is that I’m struggling to get things done, which is perfectly normal for me. Yet seems to be getting further behind instead. Need help with some accounts on the computer emails. What looks like HMG or a Social One.

Along with an unknown letter, all unopened yet. The Carers are still doing the regular short visits and do not have time to help. But no news yet on whether I’ll get extra help or go to a home.
The NCC financial chap had to cancel yesterday’s meeting and rearrange for next Wednesday.
I’ve dropped or lost more items today than I have ever done. Memory-Mangling-Malcolm must be so tired, the times he’s mucked me about today.
I fear that even if I get extra Carer time, it won’t help with the things I need. If the Council decides I can’t afford to go to a home… no, that’s wrong. I mean, if they decide my savings, although far less than when I moved into the flat, 80% less in fact, but may not be low enough, it seems to get Carer help paid for. My head spins. I’m worried. And spent so long pondering what might happen, I am now even further behind on t blog. The one thing keeping me going.
So, another cut-short effort.

Morning snaps.
From the kitchenette window.
Different angles.
Wide shot to end.

Kettle on for at last.
While making this first brew, I dropped the tewa caddy, and the lid flew off. I then spilt the milk, which fell onto the floor and the teabags. Didn’t realise I’d trodden on the tea bags, turned to fetch the picker-upper, and knocked the milk bottle off of the counter.
Such things continued throughout the day.
The hot-water tap was left running twice. The fridge door was left open twice. And make things worse, I had a cracking seizure that I’m sure lasted for well over an hour. Coming out-of-it, Carer Ejaz arrived.
I could not form my words properly, and the lad wanted to call 999. I managed to speak clearlyish in time to prevent him. The lad put some of the new foot cream on the toes. Took my socks of naturally. But did not put any new ones on. Flaming cold now. He lost some time due to the communication problems. So issued the meds and quickly Photpained the shoulder. I saved him some time by saying my back and knees felt okay. Which at the time… Have to stop, Fujjngal Lesion is bleeding. Back in the morning – I hope.

LATE NIGHT FEAST
Favourites: Cheesy Potatoes!
They tasted delicious!
I made a right mess of my mouth and treggies! Several were loosened, one broken, and all painful!

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Every farewell is a sunset that always awaits the sunrise

TTFN, each!

Inchy: Thursday 12th February

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A day of losing contact. With the brain, it’s not unusual. But I found myself dull-witted many times throughout Thursday.
I lost the thread, plot and intentions many times. Off-track. ruminating, self-debating and lambasting, Contemplating the Pros & Cons of so many irrelevant-to-me things, I think my headache got a headache.

The morning was less misty.

Oh!

Carer took a photo of scratches on the head from the tumble, I assumed. One looked dodgy.

Food delivery
All treats in this photo
Oh, a few more treats!

The morning photos, Copse on the hill
Kitchen view
Can’t recall taking this one.
Obviously from the balcony

CorelDraw problems.
Don’t want to moan, so I’ll say nowt!

Fish meal today. Battered fishcakes, red onions, posh imitation fish sticks, and tomatoes

Last shots of the day
Green sly? Did I do
something wrong with
the camera? Or, is it
not green, but a result of
the cataract, glaucoma,
or my tritanopia?

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Surprisingly
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TTFNski

Inchie Today: Monday 9th February 2026

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Tuesday Morning
This Monday, the blog was started
At 06:00hrs
What a couple of days I’ve had.
Could not for the love of be get to sleep for over a day on Sunday.
Today (Mon), an utter reversal; I could not for the love of me stay awake all day and into the night. I only woke up, or was forced awake, when a Carer visited. Ejaz only did the first visit; Mizra the second; and Dilan the 3rd and 4th. His empathy is disquieting. No one else called, which is usual; no one phoned. Which was good enough for me on the day. When they did arrive, I must have been in a bit of a state, ’cause memories are vague about what happened. Although I seem to remember telling Mirza that I knew Ejaz had told me to ask someone to make a phone call for me. But I couldn’t, and still can’t, recall what it was about or to whom. Well, there is one thing I think I did: I refused the Ezetimbibe tablet, as I am sure the side effects of that are causing this crazy sleep pattern. On the long list of side effects in the box, this was the top one. Maybe that was the phone call I had to make? Tuesday morning, when I was well rested, and the confusion in my head eased, I went on the computer and found one about ordering the Catheter & creams that was overdue. Another call to be made. Mizra had no time on the short midday call, and Dilan, well, I don’t know if I even told him… no, I couldn’t if I’d forgotten about it, could I? I’m not as clear-headed as I thought I was. (Tuesday AM)
No photos at all on the SD card. Then again, there wouldn’t be, the state I was in, all I wanted was sleep. Had it not been for the Carers I would have slept right through for over 15 hours. Yet Saturday night and Sunday, I was sort of… erm, I just kept going without the slightest sign af any tiredness. I still feel that the Ezetibime was the cause. I vaguely sense that Dilan said he’d see me on Tuesday.
Hopefully (Tuesday), I’m praying that Ejaz will be back, he is offah with my problems and does all the call-outs and medication control. He is also aware of the seizure situation. I also pray that he calls on Wednesday. That is going to be a pressure day for me.
I’ve got a Social NCC worker calling in the morning. The gentleman won’t see Ejaz to ask about things; he’s calling too early. But then again, there is no confirmation that Ejaz will be calling. And he is supposed to be going with me to the Doctor’s appointment. He did the first call today.
I keep hoping to hear if they are increasing the Carers, or putting me in a home, or not. With Wednesdays being the only day we can arrange, hopefully, for a Carer to go with me to an appointment, for the last three weeks of Wednesdays, as I’ve had to go down to the launderette to collect the washing, and last week I had to dry the clothes that were still in the washer.
This did not do any good for Arthur Itis, Dizzy Dennis, or Fractured-Knee-Frank, any good.
I had to go up and down six times, and at a time of day when the castacted eye gets more blurred every day, my balance gets worse, and what bit of concentration I have crumbles. I may sound like I’m frustrated and frustrated even more now… but I am.

I slept, and sleepingly slept,
Woken 4 times, I almost yelped,
Half awake, as the Carers called…
No matter how long I slept,
I still felt tired and zapped,
Get up? No, still too tired,
No eating, I never washed,
In the recliner, I stayed,
My phone was never used,
The mobile never vibrated,
I never prepared any food,
All that time, I don’t think I dreamed,
I did really, I’m staying tight-lipped,
Clue? I was being encephaloned.
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Later, I had a nightmare…
I woke up.
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Keeping the faith in humanity…
Nae, not really…
All the best, folks!
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Inchie: Sunday 8th February 2026

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Chief Snags Today…
Lack of Concentration. I could not for the life of me stay asleep last night, and I felt I was in overdrive. The mind, that is, not the body. Ejaz of this weekend. The lad is off for a couple of days, visiting Wales, Swansea, I think he said. So, I’d got used to him taking care of things and reminding me. (Changing socks, washing feet and teeth) But they didn’t get done today. But Carer Mizra did them on Friday. Then calamity, Whoopsiedangleplop, Accifauxpas! I did it again, I deleted the wrong file of Ode Wordes to use… after spending 5 hours collating them.
I was so angry with myself that I stayed up all night to redo them. 03:50hrs as I type this. I’m not getting sleepy either… yet. I reckon it is something to do with the Ezetimibe tablets. Unnatural.
Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley has been on and off all the time and hurts a lot more than usual.
I’m alsp amazed that the eyes are letting me use the computer after so long being up and concentrating. I think I may drain instantly at any time now. The eyelids have just started drooping.
I’ll try to rush the rest of the blog so I can get my head down ASAP. Funny that, no, that’s not the word… I knew what I was going to write, but a massive yawn developed that hurt my shoulder like heck. I took a paonkiller and got back on the computer, but had forgotten the word I was going to use. Then went to check that I hadn’t left the kitchen lights on, and discovered… do I need to say it? The hotwater tap had run cold. My self-anger is increasing.
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I thought I could see some bits of whatever in the night urine pouch when I took it off. But I wasn’t sure with the catatracted eye.

Changed the calendar clock and off to the wetroom for a shave, teeth and Poo-Poo. Got it all done well before the Carer arrived, and sorted the waste bags into one big one.
Decided to try and tidy up and clean the kitchen a little. What a mess I made of it, well, a painful mess.
I got the things to move away on the draining board, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley kicked off, and I knocked a load of stuff off the counter. Picked up the utensils and plates, and ruddy-well dropped the walking stick, knocking flannels, cleaning tackle, and food wrappers onto the floor. I swore furiously, scolded myself for bending down, how stupid can I get? So don’t answer that, please.
Carer Mizra arrived. The lad was in a rush, cause he’d got Ejaz’s calls to do as well. (I assume) Nice lad. Emptied the day bag, medications given and Phorpain-gelled the shoulder and lower back for me.

Then after three or four hours of catching up on the word list… Argh! I did it again: deleted the new 54Kb file after renaming it, and got it wrong! I’d deleted the new one. In fact, & !

A different caller did the midday call. Nice gal, I did ask her her name, and even said I’d likely forget it, and I did. Tsk!

I decided, partly to make myself pay for destroying all that work, & out of frustration, to get it done yet again.
05:30hrs now. Had to give up to get this blog started.

The one mug of tea I did drink. U probably made about eight over the day, but concentrating on the word list, they all, bar the first one, went cold.

Mizra did the teatime call. Poor ;ad had to rush again. Fair enough, I understand, he’s got it all on.

I sliced some potatoes, covered with Leicester Cheese, and tiijk this as I put them in the oven.
,
This was after I took them out.

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This is a reminder of what
happened last week, when
I had my tumble and
cleaned up my face…
Forgetting that they
were in the oven. I still ate
them all, but boy, it did
my teeth & gums no good.
Agony! Hehehe!

,
Late Carer call. Now you
can see the foreign-looking,
whatever it is, in the pouch
more clearly. Not good or what?

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Best of luck for a great day!
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Inchie: Thursday 4th December 2025

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0515hrs: I burst into life, bounded of off the bed and did a double somersault, catching the night bag as I landed on the floor and did fifty swift press-ups. Then ran yodelling away into the wet room and removed the night pouch. A bit of shadow boxing then…
Well, alright then...
0515hrs: I woke up in the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
I had to force myself t stay awake long enough to get up and fight against Dizzy Dennis and Lost-Balance-Belinda, as I painfully got the nocturnal bag freed and emptied. I was not in good condition, mentally of physically, this morning. Confusion Konrad had a grip on me. However, despite these things, I started the day and within 10 minutes of using the Porcelain Throne, guess who visited me? Yes, it was good old, much missed, and very welcome !
Trotsky Terence was in charge of the evacuation. Messy, very messy!

Four-Wheeled-Walker-Wally was still in there, from my returning from the opticians. I made a mental note to empty the pod, collapse Wally, and move it back into the balcony later. It was a big job for me, and it’s complicated because I have to move things around to make space to get to the balcony. (I didn’t)

Off to get the kettle on for a brew of Typhoo. I took a snap from the kitchen. Is that the moon or a light at the back? I’ll try to get another tomorrow.

The Carer Who calls me “Bapu” arrived. She pointed out that the Warfarin Dosage note was still not there. We had another quick search, but others and I had already made them for the sheets without finding them. I said I’d ring the Warfarin-DVT Clinic later to confirm the dosages. No problem in the morning, cause Warfarin is taken at teatime or in the evening. Nice that my “Baby-Princess” Carer had recognised it was missing. Medications were given, and she applied Phorpain gel to my knees. Oh, and my lower back.

I decided not to start the blog yet. I searched my Excel Medical file to get telephone numbers for my Doctors and the QMC Warfarin Anticoagulation-DVT Clinic. But the DVT number was not in the file. So I Googled to find it and added it to the Excel file, ready for when I can call. Then found that the number given was the same as the one for the QMC switchboard, so I amended the ones I’d put in the file.
I felt sneaking up on me. This, I assumed, was because I’d done, well, I thought I had done a decent job in getting the contact number… but still double-checked the numbers, just in case Arithmophobia Arron had made me get it wrong.

I tried the Doctor’s surgery first. This first call was answered by a Robot-AI. Telling me I was being transferred to “Our Customer Navigator. Beep-beep. Then I was connected to another Robot-AI. Telling me I had to pick a number to press; Press 1: If you are bleeding heavily or have chest pains, ring off and dial 999. Press 2: If your call is about prescriptions. Press Three; I couldn’t make out what the AI said on this one. But as I needed to know my current Warfarin doses, surely linked to prescriptions? I pressed 2 and got through to a third Robot-AI. “We do not accept prescription requests by telephone, Email, and started to tell me the most convoluted email address I’ve ever heard. Obviously, I could not keep up with what the electroid was blurting out at a rapid pace – so I rang off, pissed-off!
I think it would be easier to get through to MI5 & MI6 than to get to my Doctor!
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I tried ringing 111 to see if they could advise me on how to avoid being ignored, and maybe even who and how to contact for my Warfarin dosages. Or, not.

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A Robot-AI kicked in. Apparently, I was 23rd in the queue.
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Then I rang the Queen’s Medical Centre Switchboard. Well, I was going to, when a Carer arrived. I told him of my difficulties, and we both had another search for the Warfarin-DVT Anticoagulation doses sheet. He couldn’t spend too long, but he did his best for me. A total failure, of course, par for the course. Only a ten-minute call at midday. I also mentioned all the photographs that I’d lost from yesterday’s visit to the opticians. Crying in front of the Carer was not an option, even though I felt like doing so. Hahaha!
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Back to phoning the QMC switchboard.
The phone was answered almost straight away. For the first time, I was greeted by a human. Not a Robot-AI. I asked to be put through to the DVT Warfarin Anticoagulation Department, and within seconds, the call was transferred. Was my luck changing? No! It was getting worse, and it was answered by a Robot-AI! The electronic-faux-human rattled on, telling me the times they are open. I estimate exactly what he said, as best as I can. It may contain errors, or hopefully not. We are open on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays between 1100hrs & 1600hrs; and open on Fridays from 1100hrs to 1500hrs. We are closed on Thursdays and weekends. You can contact your Doctor by phone or email, or 111 at any time… Hahaha! Just what I’d failed to do! You couldn’t make this rubbish up as fiction. No one would believe it. Farcicalness & the NHS go together like cheese & onion nowadays.
It’s the young ones I fear for, well, not the Oligarchs or Eton attending youngsters. More of the proletariat ones. The NHS is not fit for purpose.
Unfortunately, the only party I see that wants to cure the faults in the NHS is the ‘Your Party’. But they cannot win an election because they don’t have enough candidates to stand for Parliament.
A sad state of affairs, politically.

Today was a feast of embarrassment, frustration and confusion. All normal here then!

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The end is nigh. No need to say why!
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 15th October 2025

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I’d like my annihilation of Starmer to be true,
Absolute, painful, embarrassing & thorough,
I’ll not use a gun, a knife or thumbscrew…
But when he crumbles, this is long overdue
His actions reveal he’s a true-blue,
A Barrister seeking power, a well-to-do,
His defeat or death would be my Xanadu,
No details, this Ode is but an aperçu,
He’s more an oligarch, with no affettuoso,
We cannot rid ourselves of him impromptu,
We know how to work out what we need to do,
But I’ll do my best for you, toodeloo!
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Good Morning, Afternoon or Evening

I am not placing any… well, just a few photos below, to see if this stops them disappearing when folks view the blog. Had a lot of them recently. Grrr! And I haven’t the foggiest idea why.

It was even harder to force myself out of bed this morning than it was yesterday. Summat wrong here. I’ve always been a morning sort of bloke.
I woke around 04:00hrs. And thought I’ll beat this unknown morning drowsiness, and get up now. My determination was strong & decisive. ZZZ!
Then I woke again at 06:30hrs. I whipped back the quilt and checked the night catheter bag. ZZZ!
Another waking at 0645hrs. I forced myself through sheer determination to rise: Okay, the truth is I felt the rear trap-door gurgling and a lot of wind escaping. That was enough; the fear of another not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time encouraged me. I was still sitting there, awaiting the torrent to stop as the door chime rang, and Ejaz came in. He shouted out, ‘Are you alright, Gerry?’ Just be a minute, I replied. But of course, with all the cleaning up of the spurted mess, it took me much longer.
Ejaz carried out a body check and applied barrier cream to three areas (back, groin and belly). Foamed the lower part of my left leg, which was getting a little worse, with crocodile red skin patches. Then he Phorpained the left knee all the way around to help with the knee fractures, Arthur Itis, and Catheter Chloe. He colour-rated the urine and emptied the pouch for me. Medications were issued, and Peptac was taken. He then sprayed the eyes with Blether cream and the dry eyes spray. For the last task, he did the Health Checks with me and ensured that they were appropriately recorded on the graph. Both of today’s BP readings were on a HIGH level. Which was acceptable to me cause they followed a HYPER & HIGHER ones from Monday & Tuesday.

Inevitably, when I got on the computer, Ape-Shit describes the events. It would not let me open Google from the icon, or from the Control thingy.
Total frustration!
I closed down CorelDraw and gave up.

I was at the end of my tether. Every day this happens. The battle to do the graphics, an Ode, and the HC chart is getting overwhelming, not to mention tackling the rest of the blog.
For a few minutes, I was lost in hatred of my accursed, lousy luck and the impossibility of getting any help. Boy, was I feeling down and out.
Can’t remember ever being this depressed.
Then, I just wandered into the kitchen, not really knowing why, and took some snaps of the view.

Straight ahead…
Then slightly to the left.

I think that maybe I’d resigned myself to the situation without realising it.

I won’t lose any memory or time in putting any of the others on. Bear in mind how low I was.

I returned to the computer after a good while, almost thoughtlessly looking out of the kitchen window, fearing the worst with the damned computer. I think I tried to tell myself that I knew this would happen eventually – no computer, no blog, no email, no ordering food (but that bit was great!).
Could I live without it?

I reluctantly got back to the desk, convinced this was the end, the finish, the death of the computer… Now, had it been Starmer who died, I could live with and possibly celebrate that. Hehehe!

A partial saving grace was when I got the computer back on. Fair enough, Google would still not open, but I tried opening Firefox, and it did! Of course, I could not get to or remember all the Google-saved passwords. So, still could not get into WordPress.
I got on Google from the icon, but it wanted passwords, verification, etc..

A strange inspiration came over me, and I told the computer my problem, asking what I could do to correct it. Unfortunately, I’m not a Computer specialist, a computer technician, a computer software or hardware engineer, a computer scientist, or a computer guru. I think that the collection, as mentioned earlier, might have understood what the advice meant for me and how to implement it collectively. A few of the eighty tips from the site’s advice I was brave enough to try.
But only the ones where I knew I could cancel or remove after they failed. And they did. Not only that, but I was getting more het-up again.
Three hours later, I was again at the point of giving up. Ejaz did a quick call but didn’t understand what I was telling him, and I couldn’t figure out what else I could try. Thanked Ejaz and off he went.
I seem to recall that the last gasp chance would be to close everything, give it a few minutes, and restart, as I did yesterday to get CorelDraw’s problems sorted. This would be about 13:40hrs.

I had no idea it had taken place, but it was confirmed when I came back to reality, with the acidic, horrible-tasting, and smelly gust of wind that came up into my mouth. I thought I had had a mini-seizure; they are the ones that usually have the acid after them. But the after effects were scary this time. I could not get up for a good few minutes. It felt like the room and I were swaying in different directions. I made sure I stayed where I was in the chair. I did not risk standing or walking until things had cleared in my head. Which took ages. While waiting, I made sure I hadn’t been on the computer and caused a mess of anything. I realised I must have been out of it for over an hour. The door chimed, and in walked my ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She had only called to do a Lifeline wristlet check with the NCC controller, which she did first thing. I must have looked and sounded a little odd after the Seizure.
I told her briefly of events and problems I was having.
She asked if I was ready to go into a home yet. I replied, I think it’s inevitable. Because I’m struggling to get help, doing everyday tasks is getting harder and longer. I told her of the farce of ending up with two chairs, but can’t afford a Carer to take me out. And can’t get help with making the self-propelled one safe to use. I can’t get help with the dwindling finances.
Bless her, she looked at a wheelchair for me.
I mentioned that while she was trying to work out how to get footplates on. When I was in the hospital, a social worker said they would see if they could get me help with my finances. A Red Cross person said they would know if they could provide some help. The team included a physiotherapist, an occupational therapist, a representative of Age UK, and a member of the Falls Team. But no one has contacted me. And mentioned the problem with trying to arrange lifts to hospital appointments. Deana (What an Angel) asked for the appointment letters for next Wednesday with the orthopaedic surgeon. Deana rang them there and then. She arranged for a lift each way. This temporarily helped my lack of faith and prompted a visit. 🌺 THANK YOU DEANA 🌺

NOSH
I ate well, at least. (Slurp-gobble)