The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Dhoti Inchy: Tue 24th December 2024

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

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Are you aware of this Starmer? Silly Question!
As if the Pensioner Killer would be interested!
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I’d liked to have been cleverer, astuter,
I was too busy being beaten up, & my tutor!
Then, I may have had a better life’s agenda,
Whatever is the difference between a proton…
(Not the car), and a neutral nucleon,
I think combined, they make a neutron?
Career paths that I did consider…
May I have written a book or been a surgeon?
Been a scientist, physicist or an inventor?
A scholar, maybe even the Prime Minister,
But I’ll soon lose that desire, seeing Starmer!
Remember the 11-plus, I failed that quickly,
Did I blame this on my angiocardiography?
Well, no, I had that 50 years later…
Or on the girls, who made me droolier?
The blonde-midget they used to call me.
I was about as tall as anyone’s knee,
That, I can blame on my descendency,
Uncle Arthur was only 4 foot three,
Auntie Muriel was even shorter than he,
But I grew to mind-blowing 5’3″,
Had humour and agility, also an alienability,
My failing academically drew hostility,
From those in authority, friends and family,
But the sneering stopped one day, abruptly,
I fell into the canal, in which they threw me!
I worked from 1960 until the first redundancy
That arrived when in security in 2003,
Life consisted mainly of failure & discomfiture,
I started in a house that had little furniture,
Now, in my flat with dyspraxia, & dystaxia…
Apnoea, acrasia, apepsia & aprosexia,
Determined to reach a state of ataraxia,
As I eat my meal of chips & Golonkowa…
And think of ways to terminate Starmer!
Well, someone should; he’s a pensioner killer!
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A Messy, getting-nowhere-fast day.
21:00hrs before I started this main blog.
Seizure Sandra has been busier than any other time.
Luckily, at least up to now, they have all been short (but frequent) episodes. DVT Warfarin Angel Hristina called unexpectedly. It is always a welcome, wanted, satisfying experience. ♥ Carer Cloe did the first call. Then, the second, as well, a domestic visit. Carer Sam did the middle call. Carer Christopher just finished the next-to-last call. Well, it gives him something to eat and drink. Hehehe!
With all the breaks throughout the day, I got more confused and blundered about making errors. Then, trying to sort them out the first time. This did not succeed on one of the problems, let alone the dozens I’d made). I’m going to have to rush this one from here on; sorry if any cock-ups are missed. Otherwise, I’ll never get to sleep again and never catch up on the lost head-downs. It makes things more complex with a lack of scribbled notes, and those I made are not fully legible. Here goes.

Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.

ABLUTIONING & MEDICALISATIONING

The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
I got the bowl out to stand in to soak the plates of meat and had to use the WC first.
Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Constipation Conrad was back in charge. But to the disappointment of Harold Haemorrhoids. I made a few slip-ups with the razor in my rush.
The Medicationings were made a mess of. Most of them. The groin area was cleaned a little too enthusiastically. But I stopped the bleeding eventually. Then, stupidly, I did the same on the one ailment that’s the most painful anyway, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. I lost some of the red stuff on this wet room visitation. Plenty of plasters and bandages, though. As I dried off, I felt more blood coming onto my chin. I checked in the shaving mirror and saw that my lips had cracked. They hadn’t been touched or hurt before this. Of course, now my mixed-up Doreen Dementia-owned brain has seen them; they have been irking me all day.

Got the waste bags sorted out.

Made a start on the blogging.

Nurse Hristina arrived, the highlight of the day!
The Carers called one after the other.
I was lost as to what I was going to do next.
Chloe, then Chloe again—bless her for doing the Domestics. She found that many food items in the fridge had one day’s life left, and a couple had to be thrown away. My overflowingly full fridge now looked more on the bare side! The photo taken had dematerialised and was lost in the ether!

The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.

After Carer Christopher called.
I took two shots of sunsetting.

Back on the blog prepping.
I took some snips of Cartoons to use later.
CrelDraw was incredibly slow! Oh, dear!

I pressed on, but it was taking so long. Could I continue? CorelDraw froze, and WordPress seemed to stutter at times.
I keep saying I need help.

Two later snaps of the evening sky.

Not so good.
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I had to give up.
Tired out and annoyed at things.
I’ll make a meal.
I’ll catch up in the morning. Unless The Grim Reaper calls, but that’s only obvious.
TTFN.
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Nearly midday in the morning. Lots of disaster-mode events kept me from doing this earlier.

Tuesday Continued:
After a decent nosebleed, after I’d stopped to get summat to eat. The tissues burst open the cracks on the lip, stopping the nosebleed and opening them up!
They didn’t pour with blood, but stopping them took me ages! They would start again within minutes whenever I thought I’d stopped them. Humph! 

The intercom rang. I thought it might be an unknown carer, but I could not hear what he was saying.I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.

2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.
I drank a bit of blood when I was eating the meal.
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Barmier Inchy: Monday 23rd December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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To relax, I tried banzai. Or was that bonsai?
I ended up in the hospital, nearly bled dry…
Oh, with a cut lip, broken nose & a blackeye,
I didn’t die, but I caught diplococci,
Starmer, he does falsify and farcify…
Pensioners, he hates, & will not fortify,
He’s not been assassinated… I wonder why?
I see food, fuel, etc. prices again rising high,
Is he honest or a crook, you can’t identify,
Until they mug or kill you or poke you in the eye,
Dictators, Oligarchs, Politicians crooked, why?
Warmongers, so many innocents die,
Life is complicated; it needs formulae,
The violence is rife; it makes my brain lignify,
MPs work creates mamihlapinatapai,
If Starmer was a bird, he’d be a magpie!
He lies, he’s greedy, creates profundify,
He’ll eventually bleed the poor dry,
To him, commoners are just succubi,
Parliament needs to defunkify,
Even if the end is nigh…
This is all likely pie-in-the-sky?
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I worked through the night, the bed untouched.
Computing and Blog-Catch-Up.

At 05:30hrs, I emptied the urine pouch. While doing so, I decided to close the computer down and run a Ccleaner session. Then turn off the computer, and get the Ablutions & Medications sorted out.  But first, I did a bit of flat-titivating. I sorted all the waste bins into two bags. I’d made a lot of rubbish while nearly falling asleep for so long. But despite this, Sweet Morpheus would not let me nod off. I checked on the pickling mushrooms by tasting one of them and a piece of water chestnut. They looked okay, but the flavour told me they may pickling for another day.

I hobbled into the wet room to make a start on the Ablutionisationing and Medicalisationing.

I thought the Renauds on my feet and toes looked much easier. But I still had my reading glasses on. This photo I took proved me wrong. Yes, I was tired, but I didn’t feel weary. Does that make sense?
The feet washing in the bowl while I shaved and did the teggies went very well. And the shaving produced just 2 minuscule face nicks. I was doing well under the circumstances. The medicalisationing, apart from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, seemed to go great!
Even getting the PP’s one was less bother than usual.
SMUG-MODE ENGAGED!
Dried and dressing gown on.
My plan to get into the bed was interrupted. As I sat 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, to watch another great 1950’s film in black & white. And drifter off into the bliss of sleep!

Carer Richard arrived. He was not in a gay mood, but I could tell he was upset about something. He didn’t laugh once during this visit. No, I told a lie! (I’m getting like Starmer!) My EQ told me he was not feeling well. I hope he feels better after he gets some kip and food inside him. Richard had the diabetic wadding on and supports on both legs again. After the lad had left, I soon drifted off into a much-needed but too short sleep.

Carer Chloe woke me up on her first call. I was deep in sleep. We chatted, but I’m not sure what it was about. I think it was Carer Chloe, my being rudely awakened. Hahaha! 

I restarted watching the film. And fell off into bliss again, missing the end of the movie! Grumph! But I do need the sleep catching up on. I slept until an hour and a half later.

Carer Joanne woke me up. Bless her; she brought up my washing and kindly hung the laundered gowns for me in the hallway. 

The sleep was a little longer this time, but I shot awake with Electric-Shocking-Sherida blasting away at me. She’s such a persistent ailment! I gave up on sleeping. Sherida had beaten me again! I took a photo of my beloved old-fashioned clock calendar. Nearing 15:00hrs. So I had to rise and get on the computer to start blog catching up all over again. Will it ever end? Hehe! I mustn’t moan; I think in between Carers calling. I got around five hours of sleep. But, I need more yet. On with the blog!

Two tasty-tasting cheesy-topped rolls slathered with mushroom pâté de campagne. Pickled shop-bought green-yellow tomatoes, red peppers and onions. Fish balls, cooked in the air-fryer, home-pickled water chestnuts & mushrooms. Followed by a pot of lemon fool dessert.

I found another 1950s black-and-white movie on the TV. I then settled in the c1966, £300 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.to watch it, accompanied by the five empty packets in the bin in the morning of Frazzles!

I stayed awake enough to watch half an hour of the film, and when the adverts came on, I drifted irresistibly into the land of Nod with Sweet Morpheus.
I was still in the chair 6 hours later when I woke up.

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Industrious Inchy: Sun 22 Dec 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration,
His childhood stolen; his heart broken…
Full of fear and apprehension,
Daily failures, Mother in police detention…
Very little learning or education,
He grew up in debt and devil-ridden,
He became an expert in deprivation,
Coped with destruction, devastation…
In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection,
I got shot twice when working in protection,
Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction,
I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption,
I retired, to constant hospitalisation,
Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation,
Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion,
Struggling now on my meagre pension,
Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation!
Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation,
Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption,
Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion,
Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion,
Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression,
Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation…
My hopes & plans are mere theorisation,
I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion,
As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten,
There’s always something I’ve forgotten…
Unavoidable depths of depression…
Self-vilification & condemnation,
Self-criticism, and animadversion,
Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation,
Any length of time, sometimes in repetition,
Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion,
Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten,
No shortages of ointments and medication,
I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon!
Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken,
Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion,
Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion…
Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian,
Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen,
Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum,
Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm,
Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion!
Every day is literally an ordalian,
My flat is like a prison or garrison,
Compared to my youth there is no comparison,
Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian…
They’ll tell you not to eat bacon,
But you will, as a revengeful impulsion,
For your mental & physical distortion,
I think life is an intermission…
Or maybe an incantation?
I think the above lines were malapropian,
Best just stick with eating smoked bacon?
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06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did. 
I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag.

The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?

So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.

Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results. 
That, as you see, didn’t work!


Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved. 
Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub…
Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!

Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. MedPhorpain(I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I  , then ,  where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to . 
Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang!
. The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly!
I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released!
As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me! 
I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no!  had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning..
As I was getting my dressing gown on…
I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before. 
This also baffled me!

I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk!
I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!

I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.

Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.

Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card?
Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner.
The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats.
The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t!
That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!

I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.

Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.

Carer Kimberley made the next call.

I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses. 

When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!

I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures.
Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased.
About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!

Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack.
I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.

Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!

Then, I made the second snack of the day.
I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.

I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful.
At 0025hrs, I got my head down.

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May Your Maracas Remain Musical!
TTFNski
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Inchy Cried: Saturday 21st December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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An ode to Keir, praise not being included…
In power because he’s been adfected,
He had earlier got himself benighted,
HMG he has soon affected, loyalty rejected…
He is a robot, not compassioned,
As Labour leader, then the PM, he was elected,
Beating the sad Tories and getting adulated,
As PM, his self-greed exploded,
But the electors were soon acerbated,
His speeches were bland, circumlocuted,
He lies by omission; his talks are bloviated…
Pensioners Fuel allowance he discarded,
Tax on farmers up, as Keir fanfaronaded,
Did anyone notice when he lied, he mussitated?
I thought Christmas might be cancelled!
I half-expected it would be nuncupated,
Blair’s fiddling used to get me irritated,
Brown’s clangers were unprecedented,
But Starmer, he gets me nauseated,
He also gets me over-wherrited,
His cruelty & lies will never be obtunded,
Guilty but got off scot-free, vindicated!
I’m sorry that I just pasquinaded…
But it’d be nice to see him assassinated!
Of to the Porcelain Throne, I just ventilated!
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THE THINGS I COME OUT WITH! Hehehe!

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Another partly full-of-beans awakening this morning! And why not? I’d been blessed with 8hrs in bed and only waking up with a jump three times. Yes!
When I realised that the nocturnal catheter pouch valve had not been opened, I felt a little flow-back pain the moment from the bladder when I moved. But nae bother or frustration this time. I put the nocturnal pouch on and forgot to release the valve. I was remarkably calm over this cock-up. Despite the discomfort, I was singing to myself as I emptied the rather over-full day pouch, and even when I had to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, I accompanied myself with a few toneless Elvis songs. And the urine I’d just emptied from the jug was a 6 on the NHS scale. I wasn’t overly worried. Then I changed to an Acker Bilk Song, ‘Bona Sera, Seniorita’, following up with Adam Faith’s ‘My Last Wish’. Yes!  I was aware of my upbeatness and enjoyed it! I was bounced back to reality when I went into the kitchen from the wet room.

I soon found myself in an instant depression . Self-hating, spitting, self-lambasting, and swearing began! Then , she kicked off yet again, but far worse than she was yesterday. Although I thought that was bad yesterday, now I know it wasn’t.
It was as if they had a compunction to join minutes later and played up.
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I got the kettle on to brew a mug of Co-op 99 tea. Then I opened the window to take some snaps of the morning views on offer. A genuinely blue sky looked impressive from where I stood, holding my chest, trying to ignore Anne Gyna’s stabbing, moving around the torso’s chest pains.
I’ll try to see if it’s the same shade tonight. I’d also like to take some zoomed-in shots of the Christmas-decorated houses and trees tonight.
Anne Gyna is still having fun with me. I took an extra naughty Codeine 30g painkiller.
A mug of tea and I planned to make a start on the blogging.

Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. Carer Joanne put the diabetic sock on for me late last night, I think. Medications were issued. And I inquired into his plans for Christmas. He said he had none. Is he working!
The holiday foods arrived with a few more treats. I had a heck of a job getting the stuff into the freezer & fridge, more the freezer.
The fridge was stocked up enough. Compared to the freezer, which had to be emptied of some foods to make way for the new stuff. Tsk!
You can see when I showed Carer Carole later how full it was; I had to open the two fish boxes in batter and put them in loose. Otherwise, I’d never have got them in! Talk about cram-packed. Hehe! It lessened later when I took out some treats to hand out. I’ll not starve, despite SS Unterofficer Herr Starmer doing his level-crooked best to starve pensioners this year.

Then, things were taken over by it and persistent . I nearly took another extra Codeine, but I stopped myself.

I’d two deliveries coming today from Amazon. I hope they get it right this time. Do you remember a few weeks ago, the microwave wear was left outside on the flat’s porch? And the toothache painkiller was delivered to the wrong flat, and the gentleman who was expecting a delivery for himself thought it was his. Until he opened it and saw it was for number 72, not his flat, and he kindly brought it up for me.
ARGH! AGAIN! .The site said it was delivered and handed to the customer. Well, it wasn’t! I had to get some clothes on. And to empty the catheter. Getting the trousers on with the catheter is time-consuming, risky, and painful! Then get down in the lift to see if they had left it in the foyer again. I couldn’t see it. So, I returned and got proper-flummoxed with Amazon’s deliberately awkward and hard-to-understand complaint system.
I somehow found a butt n that got me to a department that I could only input details from the list they supplied. I thought I was getting somewhere when, on the second try, I got through to a Q&A list, which offered a button to press for the Customer Service Department, and I pushed it – Nothing happened, but the screen disappeared. I tried it again. Whoever it was, AI, I think, said I needed to contact another department. But didn’t say how to do so. A third try got me as far as that again.
I was getting uptight with the frustration and pains from Anne Gyna to boot. Once more, I started from scratch but gave up. As I was sat here swearing out loud, the door chime chimed.
A resident was bringing me the disinfectant that had been left with him in error. He was not very happy. I thanked him and got back on the computer.
Lousy timing, kicked of again.
No idea what I was doing, but when things cleared, I’d closed the multitude of open Amazon windows. And started to worry about the disinfectant & cleaners being delivered
I opened Amazon’s page to track the parcel.

I gave in and took another Codeine 30m. Ann Gyna was getting worse, not any better or easier!
Checked the tracker for the delivery.
I realised that walking down and back up had started the bleeding of the ankle ulcer.
Boy, was I fed up! Well, Yes!

This driver was as good as gold. Brought up the freshener and Zoflora lemon Sherbert disinfectant to the door for me.

I’m going to get something to eat now.
I can finish this in the morning if I get up.
TTFN.

Goodeth Morning!

Woke up at 06:45hrs, Rather Later than planned

Update
Battered fish balls, terrible potatoes, two none-butter-buttered cheesy cobs, pickled water chestnuts, pickled mushrooms, garden peas, and a Lemon Fool dessert.

Carer Chris made his last call at 0925hrs. Diabetic socks off & medications sorted.

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Ayubowan!
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Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Discussing death is not at all morbid, 
I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’
I didn’t mind there was no altercation, 
Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven!
Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid?
Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid…
Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid!
It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person,
Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration?
Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion?
Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen!
I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion,
Sid: You’re causing me some confusion!
Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion?
Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism,
Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism!
My faith in humankind’s incomprehension…
Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern!
At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum,
Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction,
Sid: But I’ll make this prediction…
Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven…
Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid,
Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid,
Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid!
Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid!
What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid!
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The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening.
The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia.
Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions  . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? 
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A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.

The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?

I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early.
&
It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates.
Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. 
I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit.
I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!

After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!

I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.

I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.

I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling!
When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago.
It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment!
It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding!
Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with.
I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!

The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!

Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥

I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha!
I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin…
Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so!
Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!

Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.

But I can remember making and eating the nosh!
Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added.
Yummy!
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TTFN, Everyone!
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Cockamamie Inchy: Wed 18 December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments


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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day.
I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!

I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey!
I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!)
Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card?
I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!

Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.

The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have.
Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!

Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.

When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.

I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.

I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!

I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route.
What Morrison order!
I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door.
Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure.
There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been!
Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before.
Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.

Then things got even worse…
I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about. 
The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven.
THE
A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it!
I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me?
Stupid Question.
I’ve lost the will to bother.

I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all.
Another failed plan for today.

I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one.
Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.

This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year.
And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.

I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven. 
I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.

Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food.  I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.

Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink. 
Best not to waste them.

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WORRADAY!
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Keep Warm, Safe, sane and Happy!
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Somnipathy Inchy: Sunday 15th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

Oh, got it now! Hehe!
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She’s a brain attacker, my resident intruder,
A confuser, teaser, a permanent-squatter,
Some days, she’s a near 100% beleaguer,
Now she has got even craftier, crueller,
She created debilitating Sandra’s Seizures,
Also, bothersome Electric Shocking Sherida,
Their attacks give Doreen time to rest, recover,
It can’t be easy living in my cerebral matter,
Naturally, she’ll need time to recuperate,
While they give me hell, Doreen can resuscitate,
I think, really, she wants to be tender…
Or does it make me sound like a pretender?
Of course, this Ode is mostly conjecture…
No help from the Doctor, NHS or Pastor,
Hope is getting harder to muster…
I’ll just go battier, barnier & barmier?
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05:20hrs: I jiggled out of the hospital bed without suffering any mishaps. I freed the nocturnal catheter pouch and got on industriously (for me); I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bins out. I should, I suppose, have felt a smidge guilty as I checked out the empty crisp packets in the bed bin. One Marmite, one Frazzle, and two Pickled onion bags. Ahem! 
The crumbs in the bed called for an all-off, shake-about, and a hoovering-up job. Which I bet the neighbour above may not have appreciated. It’s a loud vacuum. But I didn’t appreciate how early it was at first. But I was a good boy when it did dawn on me, and I stopped partway through, offering unheard apologies to the gentleman in the flat above.

Into the kitchen. Before the kettle had boiled, an urgent rumbling from the innards and passing of wind encouraged me to hobble hastily to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence ruled the session and took his time clearing a dirty-great load of watery, splashy, Karki-coloured evacuated product. My hearing aids are both kaputt, but I could hear the product splashing into the water two minutes later! On the bright side, there was no pain or bleeding whatsoever! Good! But a lot of cleaning was needed; the porcelain and the rear end parts of me! Not Good!
No shave this morning. Just a stand-up wash, clean and dry the areas about to be ointmentated. Not really, only little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and cleaning and creaming the groin were any hassle, pain-wise. Then it wasn’t too bad.

I went to make the tea and took it to the computer. I even remembered to change the day & date on the 1970’s clock. I dunked a large cookie in the tea and got that, which I often do. I feared I might have left the taps running in the wet room, so I checked. Why do I not get these worries and urges when I do leave it running?
Seeing the colour of the sky as I exited the wet room, I fetched the camera and took this shot of it. A much better effort than yesterday’s try. Smug-Mode!

I started updating yesterday’s blog; there was not much to add. I got it finished at 09:20 hours. I recall thinking, surely the Carer must have been by now? Then, the progress in computing took a backward step. Started, little and often, for around an hour or so. I found myself emptying the catheter day pouch in the WC; the clock showed 11:15hrs. I believed a Carer must have called while I was partially out of things. Got back to the computer and checked to see if any messages or missed calls were on the mobile. I don’t know how, but the phone had a message on it from 2022? Summat else broke? Then kicked off. This was about 11:30hrs and still no carer. I’m not confident enough to guess which tablets are for this problem. I took an extra Codeine later on. It got bad in the afternoon. arrived at 11:40hrs. Some had not turned in, and he looked tired, but only my EQ recognised it. The lad was not complaining. Hopefully, the Angina tablets, whichever they are, will start to work soon. Better late than never. It’s a devil of a job keeping to schedules at Christmas time. I know from my working days.

I’d gotten the Saturday blog sent off. I’m not sure how many errors there were, but it was a few, I reckon. I made a belated start on this blog. A stop-and-start affair was becoming less frequent now. I wasn’t happy about the bothersome  Usually moving across and up and down the chest pains when they stayed in one place.

turned up, nice to see her. I had an extra Codeine as she was at her worst of the day. I got a little fretful once, but she’s calmed down a smidge now. It’s just the odd twinge to let me know she’s still there.

Were getting problematical again, but still less than a while ago around 16:00hrs.

I took a breather, deciding to take some snaps of the early evening views. I took these for over 15 minutes, which shows how fast it gets dark nowadays.

Getting weary again, the evening Carer might be here anytime now. If the poor thing has got caught up yet.

I’m planning on having some roast beef-filled rolls with tomatoes tonight. In fact, I’ll get them done now.
I am an impulsive old chap! Hehehe!

Carer Vic arrived, I asked him to open the jar of beetroot and pickled mushrooms for me. 

The nosh went down well!
And very nice it was, too!.

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I’ve just…
I’ve just stabbed myself in my left hand,
Ailments and Whoopsies expand…
A bit of good luck would be grand,
Food will arrive tomorrow from Iceland…
There’s still danger from Putinland,
Tomorrow, I may cut my right hand?
I’m uneducated but still a gourmand,
In the event of going to the Hinterland,
Please play the music of Aka Bilk’s band,
Why I wrote this ode, I don’t understand.
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Have a wonderful day!
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Empathy Inchie: Saturday 14th December 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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A night of broken sleep again. No dreams, but a few awakenings from and ensured it was a horrible, miserable, painful night. I was in bed for six hours, but the sleeping part must have been far less. You know me; I don’t like to complain… too much. Hehe! 

Carer Promise later gave the nocturnal weewee pouch a number 6 on the NHS Richter scale. Haha! I took the worst photo of the morning view from the kitchen window. I found later that all of Kojo’s photos were right out of the sink. I changed back to Kodak Tim after a few failures. I’ll ask Carer Christopher to see if he can reset the errors I must have made to my Kojo camera on Monday. Tsk!

It was too early to shower, so I had a stand session. Well, it started sitting down, really, on the Porcelain Throne. It was back with a vengeance. Talk about messy! It took me such a long time just cleaning up after that session on the seat!
Then I did the shaving… Dang dang, dang… Dang!
I didn’t do so well this time. I had a few, maybe ten cuts, all trifling ones, mind you. I got the Mini-Shakes but had not realised they were so imperceptive this time. Not only that, after I’d finished shaving and dowsed my head and neck in aftershave, I had a feel around the neck to see if they had stopped flowing, which they had… but the annoying new growths of hair on the back seemed to have avoided repeatedly the blades of the razors? I could sense them, almost hear them laughing at me. Har-Har! With my neurotransmitters dying of, I used the palm of my hand. Often, the finger ends lose all sensation. Like a week ago, two ago. I was in the kitchen and suddenly, only by smelling the burning flesh, realised I’d burnt three fingers on the oven racks! Still, I’ve got no oven now that it’s given up the ghost! I hope to have the new mini-oven fitted on Monday or Tuesday.

I removed my feet, which had been marinated in a bowl of hot water, and washed up liquid and Dettol while shaving. Drying them of when one cannot genuflect is a work of art. I found a way of wrapping some kitchen towels around the small picker-upperer so they don’t tear the towelling so much. Also, it gives me vital reach to get to the unbendable left leg of the Cartilage Chloe. Cunning, innit?

Now for dodgy duties. Today, I decided to medicate The fungal lesion on Little Inchie first instead of last. Get the painful one out of the way! I used the new cream on the lesion this morning instead of the Betamethasone cream for the first time. Blimey, it was almost painless! Naturally,  the moving of the tubing was just as bad. But I’m not sure that it will work without pain. Haha! I’ll know by the morning when I wake up, I imagine. While on the lower regions of my whale-like, flabby body, I, both knees. I gave them a good long rubbing in, and by then, I tended to &
with the Phorpaining. I put the Med Hydrankle ulcer rub on with the picker-upperer.
Then I water jetted out the ear holes and put olive oil in each canal.
Then I got the Blepha eye cleaner and gels rubbed in, hoping that would appreciate them and not make things go foggy so often today. Huh, that was a forlorn hope. Still, yer can’t win ’em all!
It was turn next. I also used the Barrier cream on them, as instructed by the district nurse. Never again, it’s back to the Germolene again in the morning. It’s expensive, but it eases the agony from the piles! This barrier cream did nothing for the pain. Humph!
Then, the I tried to leave in a less painful position. It didn’t work, and poor Little Inchie has had a rotten day of torment and discomfort. I shall have a word with the nurse when she calls again. I can’t understand it. Things have been much easier for Inchie for two or three days. Today, it was back to its worst ever! But, it’s only pain. If it wasn’t the Catheter, something else would be playing up… I wish it was. But then again, better the devil, you know.
Now, to barrier cream the man’s breasts, arms, belly, groin and where I can reach on the back of the neck. I left the breasts till last cause they had been so good the last couple of days.
The moment the cream touched under the man-udders, I jumped at the pain! I may have said a few naughty words and ARRGH as well.
I sprayed the nasal spray up each nostril and got my medical alert wristbands on. The Diabetic and Neuropathy Dementia ones have both broken and snapped off. Hey-Ho!

I put on the PPs, a gown, and a dressing gown; they are lovely and snug, too. Carer Promise came in as I put on the kettle to brew a cup of Co-op 99 tea. I asked him to put on my diabetic socks first, as my feet were rather cold while my uppers were warm. It was an odd feeling.
He looked after me and got them on for me. Medications were given. It was Promise who took the photo of the man’s breasts. Whatever it was that seemed to have developed, grown underneath them? I expected whatever it was to look all red and delicate, but as you can see above, it didn’t. What is it? The tenderness slowly eased over the day. It’s nearly six PM now, and I can touch them without pain. It’s a funny world, but you know that.

Carer Joanne did the net call. I think I was on the computer and in a seizure mode at the time. I talked a lot and felt we had a laugh about something.

The rest of the afternoon… well, was blank-ridden. I got all confused over the photos and made so many mistakes on the blog it was unreal. When and why I took this photo remains a mystery. Hand on, no, it doesn’t. I think it must have been to try the cheap camera again. Because it looks terrible. I guess I unwittingly changed some settings on it. Another problem for Carer Christopher to look at for me. Bless him.
I’m not sure, but I think I must have taken this this morning sometime...
I wonder if I’ll ever get help with these problems that keep bothering me? Mentally, I mean.
I’ll make something to eat after going on the WordPress Reader – if I remember to. Hahaha!

Carer Vic just called.
I will get summat to eat, but there is not much choice.
Instant mash & sausage with some beetroot, maybe.
I’ll not starve. Well…
Back in the morning. (He says)

FURRY OF THE WEEK.
From Tim Prices Blog.

Fabulous Furries and a great blog!

Yum, Yum!
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May the Force Be With You!

Apathy Inchy this Sunless, Friday 13th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Sometimes, one must be strict,
Especially if Summat’s been nicked,
Or someone acted uncaringly wicked,
Be it by human creatures or bionic,
Suitable punishment would be a tonic,
Sentences & crime do not befit,
Murder sentences are bullshit,
To save the cost of housing in the nick,
Parole Boarders are so easy to bootlick,
Provided inside with drugs & arsenic,
Solutions are beyond the bureaucratic,
Then, there’s Starmer & the Tory’s deficit!
His rosy cheeks indicate an alcoholic,
Who’s not diplomatic but diabolic!
Robbing pensioners was rather drastic,
His stealing from the poor & increased taxes,
Complains about this from Unions & Voters,
Keir ignored them, and they hoicked,
Freebies? He’s self-absorbed, narcissistic,
Take his vows with ethylenediaminetetraacetic,
Listing his backhanders would be encyclopaedic,
To the Labour party values, he’s econoclastic…
This ode sounds docudramatic,
But I can do nothing but kvetch…
The ode’s themes are, sadly, logorrhoeic,
And far from being mesmeric…
The name Starmer I use as a mnemonic,
When I can’t recall the word pathogenic!
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I woke late and might been even later if it had not been for the unintentional waking me up from the dream I was having by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. And it was not the leg! The last time I made an unpremeditated Hitler Salute was many months ago. This morning’s  ‘Heil Hitler Salute’ knocked over two bottles of spring water, two bags of Frazzles, and a teaspoon & fork. (Although they may be dropped in my slumber, especially if I have a dream or seizure. I tend to do a fair  bit of nocturnal damage, you know!) 
The dream was a good one, what bits I can recall. I was on the roof of the flats, and I couldn’t remember the door code to get back in. So I jumped off the building (15 floors), landing in a tree. An ambulance arrived instantly. Three medics came to, I thought, rescue me. But instead, they beat the hell out of me and took my bank card, demanding the number. I swore at them… something else happened… I was under the ambulance with one of the medics with a notebook and a pen bent over me. Telling me that the ambulance would run slowly over my bone-dome if I didn’t give them my pin… Well, I couldn’t remember it! She called to the driver, and the bloodwagon’s front wheel started to press against my head. I’m sure I thought to myself, ‘Ah, sod it!’ The next second, I was in bed Hitler Saluting, which clouted my knuckle against the wall, and reining in my arm, I bashed my elbow and hit my head on the safety bar. Knocking stuff off the overbed table. Still, I thought it was much better than getting my head crushed underneath an ambulance. (I was temporarily confused between reality, logicality and fantasy, then?)

I let my head clear… as straightforward as it will ever be, and removed the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch from the day bag. Later, Carer Chris Confirmed this bloodied pouch had a number 6 rating on the NHS check card. Far too red!

I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a small mug of Co-op 99 tea. 
Taking a couple of snaps of the morning view.
A lot of difference in the sky colour. They were taken within about three minutes of each other. The green aura was back again. This often comes morning and night. No idea why.

Kettle on, and I hobbled to the wet room to get the ointmentating done in my private areas. Piles, Little Inchies fungal lesion, under my arms and man-breasts. Hehe! Plenty of cream to use. I hope I remember ordering some more on time. On leaving, I managed to get my leg tangled up with . Which tugged at , and she’s not forgiven me now, 12 hours later! Hope I’ve not made things worse than usual. I’ll see how it goes.

Carer Chris arrived in a jolly mood. It was nice to see that. He and I forgot to put the diabetic socks on. But he invoked changing the day catheter rigmarole for me. Did a good job, too. Then he took some photos of me with different expressions on my mush to use later in the Inchy Today… tomorrow.

Later, after struggling, I still got them saved, so I took this snap of the computer screen with them in CorelDraw.

I sorted the bin bags out and felt I’d forgotten something. So I checked around, including taps, fridge and freezer doors, windows, etc. But I felt uncomfortable not knowing why everything was alright after looking around.  

They kicked off and stayed with me for at least three hours until Carer Joanne came. I was trying to sort the Thursday blog finalising. But it was hard work with all the correcting I had to do. The gal had done the not-machine-washable gowns for me again. She really is a lifesaver. We laughed and joked, and I did most of the talking. I do that too often. Tsk!


Ace reporter & photographer Inchy of Cell 72 took these photographicalisations of the fire from his kitchen.

I put Radio Nottingham on to see it. I could find out where it was; it looked close, maybe on Hadyn Road.

The intercom burst into song. I was a delivery. Surely I had not done it again and ordered more bloody food?
Nope, it was the Mini-oven that was due tomorrow.
And it is much bigger than I thought it would be. But the deliveryman carried it through to the kitchen for me. I’m doubting it will fit on the old clapped-out stove now.
I’ll ask Carer Chris when his next day in is and beg him to help me fit it.
It looks wider than the flipping freezer!
Oh, dear, another Inchy Cock-up?

Carer Chris came later. He seems to think it might just go on the stove. He opened the box to check. I’m not sure, but I hope the lad can manage it for me. Bless him.

I got the rolls and onion out of the fridge. (I can’t get into the freezer, whimp me, can’t move the mini-cooker, it’s too heavy for me to manage. Tsk!
I got back on the computer and was impressed with how far I’d got on with it. !

Well, it’s now 19:25. It’s a toss-up between washing, eating, or going to bed. No problem. I’m too tired to wash and can’t sleep anyway, so I’ll make up the two cheese cobs with red onion, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, and beef with no-butter butter and have summat to eat. That sounds fair enough to my gluttony. Hehehe!

Hopefully, I’ll be back in the morning to finish this.
TTFN.

I got the meal sorted.
The resulting feast.
Three cheese bread rolls are spread with extra-strong cheese paste, ham, tomatoes, red onions, and pickled mushrooms. I forgot the beetroot. Tsk!

Carer Chris arrived for the last call. He removed the diabetic socks, medicated me, and grabbed some nibbles and a drinkie to help me sort out the mini-cooker on Monday. I hope he does anyway.
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Keepeth well and safe. I wish everyone could.

Twitchy Inchy: Thursday 12th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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05:30hrs:  I stirred, with Cartilage Chloe giving me pain the moment I tried to genuflect the leg. She’s still bothering me a bit now. I detached the night ouch from the catheter day pouch. A little dark, but I’ve had far worse. I felt pretty good as I started plodding around, apart from Chloe. There have been no electric shocks so far! It was very cold this morning. I sorted some waste bags and limped into the kitchen. I snapped a picture of the morning view and checked the fridge to ensure I could fit all of today’s food in when the delivery arrived. 
I removed a pack of the horrible-tasting Asda brand cheesy topped rolls and binned them. Make a fine, tasty brew of Glengettie tea, and I got the computer booted up.
The Windows update brought up some Microsoft details that confused me about what it was reading. Grrr!
Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose in a rush. I got to the wet room ASAP, only just in time as things started moving of their own accord. Trotsky Terence controlled. Messy, back to the Karki colouring, pooey, and sticky. It took a lot of cleaning up. I cleaned and ointmentated various body areas and parts in need. I have no shortage of Barrier cream!
The intercom chirped up. It was the J Sainsbury order arriving. The driver soon appeared at my doorway and was very helpful & understanding of my problems. Thank you, driver!
As I began to put them away, Carer Sam arrived. With the order on my mind, I forgot to ask her to put on my diabetic socks. Tsk! Sam issued the medications, and we had a mini-natter and a laugh. I wondered if she knew how long one had to pickle mushrooms before one could eat them, as I intended to try making some today. Neither of us knew, so I’ll look it up later on the web. Off she went… and I got back to unpacking the foodstuffs. I’ll do it now! 

Oh, dear! I remembered I did not have a cooker now! So I can’t boil them. Humph!

Back to unloading and storing. This photograph shows potato chunks, mushrooms (Huh!), beef tomatoes, beetroot chilli, a jar of garden peas, imitation butter, and lemon desserts. 
Some drinks and nibbles. Then I checked the fridge, but there was almost no difference from the one I had taken earlier. No shortages, though.
Plenty of jars of meat, few cans in the cupboard, and some long-life, ready-made meals to do in the microwave. 
Then I took another kitchen window shot. I think that is the last I remember taking that picture, for about an hour or so. The most odd seizure that I’ve ever had. Time to call the medics! I was back on the computer when things became more transparent about what was what. I was searching for the Nuthall Hospital number, and the landline chirped. Who was it? A lady from Nuthall Hospital! Amazing! They are cancelling next week’s appointment and will make a new one for the new year. Me? I thanked her very much and wished her a Happy Christmas. As I was emptying The Catty Catheter day pouch minutes later… It came to me that I forgot to tell her about the seizure & I was worried about it lasting so long. I gave up and didn’t bother again! EQ informed me it will get worse, mate! It did, too! And went into another seizure. Just a few minutes worth. I made silly errors in what I did on the blog while I was semi-conscious. A depression dawned.

I went to the wet room, intent on showering, shaving, and doing the teggies. Then, get the medications sorted. Not a chance! Carer Sam came in. Mind you, it was nice to see her again. She got my diabetic socks on for me. It may only have been for a minute or two of nattering, but it was good and relieved my tensions somewhat. It didn’t last for long but it was nice.

Naturally, after she’d gone, I forgot about my showering. I went contentedly back on the computer.

Peripheral Pete gave me half an hour or so of one-legged dancing, a sort of cross between doing the Oki-Cokey and the Stomp! The two ailments have lasted longer than ever before. I wondered what the third would be.
When the one-legged come dancing was over, I went to make a brew of tea.
I realised I had not thoroughly cleaned up after the food delivery, so I made another waste bag for the chute.

I have started pottering around and have never finished doing endless unrelated jobs. Finally, I’m convinced another visit from Seizure Sandra had got me, of all things, starting to make some pickled mushrooms? I even took photos of the process!  However, I had another leg dance when Carer Chris came in and dropped the camera. Chris looked at it and thought it was alright. But when I came to upload the three photos after he’d gone, they were not on the card. The camera was Kaputt! Now, I hit the depths of depression and disbelief! 
I snapped this screen to see if Kodak had saved it to the card. Dag-my-Knangles, it did! But look at the fading on the right side? I took another shot, fingers crossed and praying. I took one of the evening views from the kitchenette window. This one seemed alright? I thought I’d take a shot of the ‘Inchie-inspired jar of pickled mushrooms with seasoning and water chestnuts in pickling vinegar. It says on the web to leave it for a minimum of three days to season the mushrooms, but it is best to leave it for a minimum of 5 days before eating. It also said how easy it was to make them. Easy & me, do not go together. At least they should be okay to eat for Christmas. And the photo looked to be alright this time. 
I’ve got two cheesy cobs out of the freezer. Here is my plan; Slice and no-butter butter the cobs. Slice some tomatoes with some salt, maybe some beetroots on the side? Slice some red onion to go in the cobs perhaps. Whichever, I’ll turn the TV on to see if anything is worth watching and get the cobs done.

The Liberty-Global-owned Virgin TV was turned on, and for ten seconds, all looked well. Then A screen filled fully with a message telling me that an updated version is now available. Press the Install Now or Do it Later (Or not now) tab. Of course I tried but nothing happened, the screen remained there annoyingly. I tried turning it off several times, and I got the same result each time! Failure! 
Eventually, it clicked. The message was not from Virgin; it must have been from the TV makers, Bush, that Liberty-Global engineer (I’m talking loosely here), routed through the Virgin Fibre thingy. There followed a one-hour search for the bush remote control. It was a bit of a miracle that I found it at all.
Then, I pressed the Not Now option. Great!
Then… it came back on every ten minutes! I gave up and nervously pressed the Install button.
I was fed up and turned Del Boy on the TV. 
Then, the message came up again.
I clicked install, and a mass of options came up that I didn’t really understand, in the least!
The screen went blank.
I swore, could I take anymore?
To my amazement, the TV came back on.
Now, I will need both remote controls to us it.
I was struggling to get used to one!

Carer Chris will be here soon; no time for me to get the food done before he arrives. I’ll start prepping the nosh. I can wrap it up to keep it fresh for later. I hope Chris doesn’t stay too long… I may have to start eating him. Hahaha! I gave the lad one of the two iced buns with cream. He said he’s taken some photos of facial expressions for me tomorrow morning. So I can use them later on the blog. We’ll see if I remember.

I just realised that I didn’t have the shave & shower!!!

Two cheesy cobs, heavily spread with no-butter butter, and sliced tomatoes slightly salted. Surimi sticks, raw fresh garden peas. A pickled egg and mushrooms. Cooked sweet-chilli beetroots with chopped red onions. Followed by an iced bun with cream! 
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Many Good Fortune befall you!
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