The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchy: Friday & Saturday 23-4th November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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The memories recalled, but only just,
I think it may have been 1972, in August…
I met and was mauled by an anaesthesiologist,
Stabbed by an acupuncturist.
This year, I was robbed by an oligarchist,
Who goes by the name of Starmer!
Known as the proletariat’s financial amputator,
His first job as PM put pensioners asunder,
Raised taxes for every farmer,
Who accepted far too many a backhander…
He is still the Labour leader,
Money from anywhere he can acquire,
To his many wrongs, he’s not a conceder,
Because he is such an arrogant bleeder…
A perfect match to be a Tory Prime Minister,
He’s although blunt, he’s a clever circumventor…
Lies directly, by omission, a fibbing blatherer,
I bet he’s never been a TV renter,
Cause self-wealth is at his centre…
Working persons new tax inventor,
Bet he gets a free haircut from his barber!
His taxes put an end to improving agriculture,
He’s just like a greedy vulture!
His ruthlessness gives me acroparesthesia,
It’s like he got into power with tabula nasa,
Apart from filling his bank account whenever,
To morals & sympathy, he is a denyer,
I wonder if his stockings are 15 denier?
I doubt his calculations, cogitation, & dedication…
I wonder at times if he is just an apparition…
Sent by Putin, to do our economy in?
Or maybe a Right-Wing Martian?
He’s certainly caused political confusion,
Are, to Keir, old labour values an illusion?
Voters want action with anti-depression,
Not an HMG leader like an automaton!
It could all end with a revolution!
Maybe it can be stopped by a coalition,
But he doesn’t need my permission…
But he can have my commiseration,
HMG UK is leading to deterioration,
Sooner the better, for the voting disillusioned
That Starmer is toppled & decommissioned!
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Ah, a bit better colour!

Terrible photo!

Waste bags condensed.

Evening mug of Glengettie tea.

Blue evening views

Four big cob sarnies. But they were too big for me to manage. Waste not, want not; I bagged them, put them in the fridge, and ate them on Saturday. They were pork loin with robust cheddar cheese, no-butter butter, sliced tomatoes, and chestnuts. No finger cuts were sustained. 

Got more photos saved to go on tonight!
Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Note the deliberate spelling mistake? Ahem!

Gawd, I hate Starmer!
I don’t think I’m on my own.

A large rise in cases percentage-wise!

I did a bit of research later for the odd below above!

All was normal here.

Slightly darker this morning.

My morning shots are getting atrocious!

Yesterday, I, Sherlock Holmesianly, searched for the signs of which houses are growing Cannabis in their lofts.
Today, it became apparent. Hehehe!

I’m unsure how I did it, but I got the battery-powered can opener to work!

Snowgoinger! Haha!

No TV. No landline phone. No Panic Alarm Working.
NO INTERNET! For 5+ hours.
Still, as long as the owners of Virgin, Liberty-Global, keep paying their CEO a phenomenal salary. Indeed, they will remain the supreme, cunning, lying Oligarchs they are. Trying to cancel their service, with their clause making us pay £100s to do so, requires someone with the following skills and can afford a barrister, a mathematician, & Einsteinian genius.
If one does escape their financial and incapable service, one may try EE, 3, Vodafone, BT, UPC Broadband, 02, ITV plc, or  Sirius—all of which Liberty-Global either owns or has investments in! We can’t win!.
But Liberty-Global Always Do! (Spit!)

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TTFNski

Infoless Inchy: Wed 20th Nov 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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I’d like to relate a little anecdotage,
I’m losing my grip on life in my dotage!
My financial situation can be called in arrearage,
The medics can’t mend my wee wee appendage!
I have no willpower, respect or appanage,
So, I consulted a Sherwood archaeologist…
He dismissed me as being human sullage,
He checked on my lineage,
Suggested I go live in a hermitage,
Although a wizard, he was more like a hucksterage,
My nerve rash started getting blotchier,
He said: I know what’s up with yer…,
Like many old farts, you’re angry at Starmer!
Yer blood’s boiling at Keir and your bank manager, 
There’s no one at home to give you a blether,
And look at the state of the bloody weather!
I can see yer at the end of your tether…
Yer cookers’ broke, standing in yer corridor…
Can’t cook or pissed, you’ve lost your composure,
Problems with your heating & the computer,
Cancer, Renauds, toothache & painful catheter,
Starmer, Rachel Reeves, the HMG chancellor,
Yer feelin’ sorry for yersen, yer silly old dodderer!
Doreen Dementia depresses yer, 
The solution is available for you,
For £500, I’ll reveal what it is, too!
Go home and think it over, and come back Tuesday at two.
So I went back all punctual, expecting a natter and brew…
They told me he’d died last night on the loo!
More dreams like this, & I don’t know what I’ll do!
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I was up at 04:00hrs to give myself plenty of time to shower, shave, and complete another visit to the Porcelain Throne in time for food delivery from Ocado. A Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation, and all over within 20 seconds of getting my tight little bottie settled on the plastic WC seat. Splush… all done!
This ablution session took me over two hours, which was nothing unusual. I was all done abluting and started to get the medicationalisationings done.
Unfortunately, after yesterday and the five nurses’ attempts to get the tube back in the bladder via poor little Inchie, He was very delicate this morning. So, ointmentating the fungal lesion was even more painful than ever. It brought tears to my eyes!
But I got that done, and then I Phorpain gelled the cartilages of Chloe and Carole. Then, I did Arthur Itis’s left and right patellas with the same gel. Olive oiled the ears, put the
Blepha gel in the left eye, and Chloramphenicol drops into the right eye. (Well, most of it ended up down my chest and on the floor!)
I got some Germolid ointment on my bottie to help soothe Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Always a pleasure doing that. Then, the Acne & Excema medications are under and on the arms, the flabby drooping belly, the head, and the neck. Yes, it’s spreading again!
Next, congestion relief was sprayed onto the nasal area, and the Anti-Bleed swabbed when that cleared. The Nozohaem was kept handy, but it was not required. 
Then, a miracle occurred!
I could not understand why it was so easy this morning, but I still felt smug when I put on the fresh Protection Pants, pulled them up, and adjusted them without catching the catheter netting or anything—in less time than it took me to take the old ones off! Brilliant! I still can’t believe it myself! Did I dream it or have a mini-seizure?

I cleaned up the wet room, took the waste bag and the used catheter bag to make up a larger one, and saw it was only 06:10 hrs! I’d done all that in just over two hours. But,  being me, doubts lingered that I may have got the starting time or waking up time wrong. This took the edge off of my temporary period of almost glee and pride.

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COMPUTER NOT UP TO SCRATCH TODAY
I took this snap just before going to the wet room. You can’t see the snow in this one, but it’s stubbornly time-melting.
Very sad about all the photos I took, I can tell you! Heartbreaking.
I’ve lost the compunction… is that the right word? I’ll look it up… No that’s the wrong word altogether. I’ve lost interest in even trying to get this blog done. It’s already gone 20:00hrs, and I’m only up to here with it. I keep trying to get the photos on, but it takes so long using the Ccleaner that my pride and heart are not in it. For the first time ever as well. Still, it’s been a busy day again, interruptions, mistakes and the damned mini-seizures. I had a lot of them today, two when one carer was here and another with a different carer. I’m fuddled.

There was a mammoth cock-up again with the food orders. I would have sworn that I made one order for today and another with a different shop for next Wednesday. First, the Ocado delivery arrived. Then, this evening, the Tesco order arrived! No photos can be saved again, yet it let me do these above, then died on me again.

The computer let me upload these tonight, and later it saved them. Huh!
I think technology, ill health, mental & physical are getting too much for me.

Half of what took place needn’t have bothered me. I know that I had a carer doing the financial checks today, but who it was and two mini-seizures during the visit have left me well-baffled.

I’ve just run my neighbour and Angel of Mercy Jenny. I ordered cream cakes next Wednesday, and I now have two boxes. Her hubby, my mate Frank, kindly came up to collect them, along with a few bits that I would never eat, and they were short-dated. So, at least they have not been wasted and got to where they were intended for. I’d be lost without Jenny & Frank.

Sorry, but I’ve had enough today.
I’ll see how things go in the morning.
Fingers crossed.
I’ll make something to eat. I might even photograph it… but will the computer allow me to file it, or even load them?
Feeling dejected, that was the word!

Hope to see you in the morning.

Well, it’s evening now on Thursday.
But I did get some photos saved.

The 2nd delivery
I am a fool!

Tomatoes, potatoes, chestnuts, and chestnuts, with two really-filled ham rolls, with no-butter butter, & a dab of Marmite.
The potatoes were not very good.

Evening all! The snow melting.
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TTFN & Have a great day!

Interned Inchy: Monday 18th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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WHAT A START!
MIND YOU THE MIDDLE & END WERE NOWT TO SHOUT ABOUT
I stirred around 05:30hrs, after another disturbing jumping and shooting awake imitation night’s sleep in bed.
The nocturnal catheter pouch was the brownest it’s been for a while.
Carer Richard confirmed it as seven on the NHS colour-rating scale card. I was not in good nick this morning, but nothing seemed worse than any other ailment. 

I started updating Sunday’s post. As I was about to post it, I got emails and messages from the bank about the payment for my new Tesco account order not being paid. I thought I’d coped well with setting up an account with them.
Over the next few hours, I received more emails and messages from Tesco and the bank. Obviously, I had done something wrong somewhere.
I struggled to get the bank to pay for my Tesco order. A carer tried, the first nurse tried, and then I rang Deana for help. I had eight different passwords come in, and none worked. Five emails from Tesco and three more from the bank. But I could not work out what I’d done wrong, although it was apparent that I’d done something wrong. Another nurse worked it out for me – I’d put the wrong telephone number as I registered with Tesco. I’d put the landline instead of mobile – what a clot and farce that was. Then, I rang Deana to say it was sorted; I’m so glad the nurses came today.

However, I still did not grasp what I had done wrong in the process for a while. 

THE NURSE’S VISITS: A nurse called on me (Thank heavens) this morning to replace my Catheter. But she could not get it to go back in. After a phone call for assistance, another nurse arrived to help. An hour later, it was still not back in. They called for an ambulance but were told no non-emergency ambulances were available. So they departed, saying, just like Arnie said in the film, did, “I’ll be back!”

Three nurses arrived later! They got the Catheter painfully for me and sorted it around 20 minutes later. They were in a rush; they had a lot more Catheter-ridden old farts to visit. I said I was sorry to bother them, gave them some nibbles and drinkies of their choice, and was told to ring if there were any problems later. (None yet) I think this is why I did not post the blog properly. Jenny sent me an email as I checked those from Tesco and the bank and posted off Saturday’s blog. Then sent a message to Jenny; “I hope it’s gone through now, Jenny. ♥” Explaining the day I’d had as an excuse for the cock-ups that I’d made already. Hehehe! 

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First photographs.

Second photographs.

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THE BEDThe torture bed, where things got badder…
Four tries to get the tube back into the bladder,
It felt like I was being mauled by a barracuda,
Blood came from the fungal lesion’s ulcer,
I sang to make the pain easier…
Gene Pitney’s 24-hours from Tulsa,
I thought one nurse was the Grim Reaper, undercover,
My howling was like a documentary voiceover, 
My voice recording could be used in Dracula!
Each nurse got annoyed at each failure…
One suggested taking my temperature,
Their kind efforts did not waiver,
In the NHS, I became a believer,
Each nurse was a wallflower with power,
As they worked out how to grab my waggler,
Which was getting smaller and wrinklier,
On the 6th attempt, I sensed they were getting tireder,
My bladder was getting fuller & fuller,
On the 7th, they epitomised womanpower,
Their attitude to me was pure exemplar,
These Angels were so patient and avuncular,
As soon as they’d won, I had gastrectasia…
Telling me to stay in bed for a while, to recover,
The tube reconnected in my tallywhacker…
I was already feeling so much better,
I told each one I loved her!
Nibbles & a drinkies of their choice, I did offer,
I thanked them all for being so spectacular! ♥
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All in, up and running again!
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Tonight’s ready-made meal.
I plan to have some tomatoes and
beef sarnies with it.

Back in the morning… I hope!
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Good Morning!
Carer Promise arrived on his last call and took photos of the snow falling from the balcony.
Then the lad attached the night pouch to the Catheter, which leaked all over the floor!  
So I was freezing from him letting the cold into the room, wet, and I had the job of cleaning up the leaked urine, wee’d on legs and slipper!
And all I wanted to do was to get some sleep!
Still, it gave him a laugh. Hehe!
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TTFN each, Joy & Happiness to you All!

Elapsed Inchy: Sunday 17 November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer,
For stealing fuel help from every pensioner,
But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later…
Although it made OAPs £500 poorer…
It got the Unions complaining angrier,
It was businesses that gave him his backhanders!
An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard,
Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted?
Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted…
Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector!
Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember,
They’ll be in a  home or alone, suffering from Dementia,
Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia,
Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia,
Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia,
Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia…
Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,

I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater,
A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler,
I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore!
A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
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A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine
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Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came,
I wanted to blame whatsitsname…
Or maybe even whatsaname, 
I considered blaming whatshername…
But for each one, I was the one to blame.
First one, I was cleaning the windowpane…
Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain,
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame,
Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane!
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Then, I dropped my written username…
I tried bending down again…
Landed on my knees, agony more than pain!
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
But doing so was such a strain,
Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train,
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!

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I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things.
A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.

This morning’s efforts.

Is my urine going darker again?

Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.

Morning all.

Afternoon-teatime views.

It looked like some clouds were going to land.

Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box.
Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!

I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score!
I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water.
Hehehe!

I got an unintentional artistic wobble on.

TTFNski, each.

Iliad Inchy: Saturday 16th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi,
He was not soul-collecting, he called socially,
I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023,
He said he was depressed but very busy,
North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine,  
Available Souls to collect rises again…
Gaza, so many humans getting slain,
Children starving, dying in pain,
There is no world affability or affinity,
Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity,
Politicians without any accountability,
No shortage of greed or ambivalency,
Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy…
Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll,
War children build themselves a bolthole,
Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole,
Free murderers, with a legal loophole,
Killers, murderers given parole, 
We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl,
Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole,
Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal,
Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole!
I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…”
Dying must surely be more peaceful?
Is heaven extraterrestrial?
Was humankind meant to be experimental,
I sense that we are all fossiliseable,
Well, of course, anything is possible…
Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal,
This starts when they are foetal,
Anklesnappers turn into people,
They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical,
Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ,
You see, but you don’t know what to do…
Your hopes for happiness are exhausted,
Your faith in humankind has vegetated…
Your lust for life has withered…
The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated,
Your caring nature has been exploited,
Life itself, you’ve never bested,
Truth is, you are no longer interested…
You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested,
You’ve not changed, but the world has altered,
You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted…
This earth has been maladministered,
Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered!
And pensioners he has murdered…
Yet Starmer remains undeterred,
Wait for him in hell to see him burn!
Then your sense of humour can return!
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Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty  Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my .
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!

Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.

I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away.
The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two.
Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.

Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.

When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.

My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!

I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?

The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.

I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.

Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot, bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!

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TTFN.

Itchy Inchy: Saturday 9th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’d been out for beer & darts, I was feeling merry,
I took a shortcut home through the cemetery,
I was between the trees having a pee…
And a voice started talking so pleadingly!
I turned & there was a man who looked skeletony…
I was stunned when he asked hoarsely…
‘Ave yer gorra gasper matey?
Adding, yer the first one who’s ever seen me!
The things I’ve seen, rising from my grave nightly,
I asked rather wearily and sceptically…
Are you dead then? A little sarcastically,
Oh, yer, I snuffed it in 1963,
Did yer die painfully or sinisterly?
Nae, boringly…
Worappened specifically?
The missus killed me!
I went out for a beer at the Apple Tree…
But I drank beer tremendously,
Had a pee up against that tree…
I tangled the zip, and it cut my weenie!
Bled to death, no help around this vicinity,
Off to la-la land, fell down this grave to the hereafter,
Laid there and died, drunk, couldn’t even pray,
They put someone’s coffin on top of me the next day, 
Still, I can get out at night now to play,
I’m sorry to hear that; what can I say?
I fooled yer. I’m just a dead hornswoggler…
Commonly known as the Grim Reaper,
Oh, you’re the soul taker?
I’ll not read the warrant; it’s just a longueur,
You’ll be free of worries & hylomania,
I could let you stay longer, however…
Delay taking your soul to the hereafter,
Can you help the Grim Reaper Grand Templar?
What does he want, your head denunciator?
Fags! To calm his temper!
Just take me; my life here is just crepuscular!
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Moments of Mind-Mangling-Malcolm – Out-of-Its – Sandra’s Seizures –  Mind-Blanks; Call them whatever you like, but they controlled most of this “What-Day-Is-It” – Where-am-I?” “What am I doing” day!
The computer contributed to the mental confusion, stubbornly stopping me from saving files.
Eventually, after the fourth Ccleaning session, I circumvented some of the photo refusals by grouping some together and making them minuscule. And it worked!
I thought this was the solution. I tried again with others, and not only did it not save them, but it deleted the ones I was trying to save them as! So I lost some more of them.
Frustrated is not a strong enough word!
The day did not start well. I got up at 07:15hrs. I’ve been getting up later for some reason. The night pouch was far too deep, a colour to my liking. Searching the nurse’s bags to find a mesh catheter pouch holder took me so long. And proved to be another of my many, varied multitude of failures.
The door chime chimed. Carer Sam came in. The medications were sorted, the diabetic socks sorted, and a short natter was enjoyed.
The Kodak Camera was in a temperamental mood. It kept telling me each time I returned the card from the computer to the camera that it needed Formatting. But this will erase all content on the SD card!
All I could do was to take it out and put it back in again, sometimes up to 8 times!
I shot the room to see if it worked this time. Then I took a snap of my beloved tree copse. Unfortunately, it will soon be bare of leaves. Bootiful!
I got the ablutions sorted. One gigantic mega-torpedo with rear-end splitting capabilities! (Haha! I don’t know why I laughed then; it wasn’t funny!)
Two little tiny nicks shaving that oddly took ages to stop bleeding. The amount of Brut needed surprised me. Maybe my INR level is a bit high? When I stepped out of the bowl of antiseptic-disinfected water that I’d been standing in a while shaving, panged like crazy, and this, at only raising the leg about 2 feet to clear the bowl. Odd that! I Phorpain gelled both Cartilages and Arthur Itis’s knees. Got the olive Oil in both earholes. Blephagelled the right… no, left eye, and sprayed both. Then I rubbed the barrier cream on the arms, hanging belly, and base of Little Inchy. The blotches and spots had returned above each eye, so they also got some barrier-creaming. I added some Germolene on top.
Poor Little Inchie was the next job to tackle. Left till last again, you notice. Maybe I enjoy pain. What’s the word I want? Maybe Med HydrI’m a masochist, is it? I’m sure Little Inchie shrivels up even more when he sees the tube coming his way.
I went to the kitchen, got the earhole sprayer, and gave both ear canals a good blast of purified water.
I cut some Warfarin tablets in half for the Caregivers to use on their morning calls. The dosage is currently 1½ every day until the next test on Monday, November 25th. I think.
I scribbled some notes of the day on the reminder pad and made a mug of tea using JS Extra Strong and Thompson’s Punjana tea bag. It tasted delicious!

They started coming at me as soon as I got on the computer. After this, they rarely gave me a rest. And here I am, trying to write this at 0950hrs tomorrow morning, with nothing added to the memory notes from here on. It felt like an instant change from being somewhat with it to being unsure of what I was doing. I’ll mention this to the nurse on Monday at the surgery. That’s something else that concerns me; three carers said they would try to get through to Easy-Link for me and get back to me to see if they can do me a lift. I’ve heard nothing. So, I must walk to the surgery and back on Monday (tomorrow). I’m told it’s not their job to ring up for me. I ask them to, cause of the mistakes I’ve made in the past with mishearing what they say on the phone. Face-to-face is a lot easier, but I’ve had trouble using a telephone or mobile since the stroke. Now that the landlines have gone ‘Fibre’, catching everything said over the phone is more challenging than ever. I’ll not bother them again. I felt guilty asking them in the first place.  
Anyway, I managed last Tuesday without a lift. It about crippled me with the effects of the hypos. Hehe! I hope the RSV jab is kinder to me than the Covid & Flu ones were.

 I had the microwave heat-and-eat dishes arrive. It said to avoid staining the pot, do not cook tomato sauces, baked beans, or fatty foods.
I was going to have some lamburgers. Carer Joanne said they are cookable in the air fryer. But because I wanted to try the microwave pots, I put a readymade meal and some cooked beef in a pot and cooked them for 6 minutes in the microwave. I lost the photo along with all the others, eaten by the computer. The meal looked okay and smelt fine. But oh, dear, it tasted terrible. The first time I used the microwave dish, I left it stained already.

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The computer is going to get worse as it has done day by day. I can tell. Fingers crossed, but not much luck is expected
for tomorrow.
Gnash!
TTFN.

Inert Inchy: Friday 8th November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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My body & brain seemed clumsier,
Concentrationless, forever making a blunder,
Concentration Conrad, trouble with the catheter…
But compared to Thursday, I was feeling chirpier,
Then, this morning, I turned into a grumbler,
The power supply died well before it got darker…
Life felt it was just too much hassle and bother,
I turned into a frustrated, dispirited, sad creature!
Everything went wrong, tormenting, crueller,
I got the power supply back within the hour,
I awaited life’s next unredeeming feature…
At this, I admit I felt a little perkier,
Why I felt ‘up’ is up for conjecture…
The colour swatches disappeared from CorelDraw,
The batteries expired in the Kodak camera,
Liberty-Global, Virgin Media…
Drove me to the point of hysteria!
Blackout! No internet, TV, Alarm help-caller…
Was it down, or did I make another blunder,
I called on my mobile to Warden Deana,
Asked if anyone else had lost their Virgin Media,
Many had, so I was in a confused megillah…
The computer came back on, I had a self-ponder,
So far behind now, a frustrated old blogger,
Hopes of catching up are less than minuscular,
I had to restart four-times on the computer,
Resigning in on all the sites, regular,
Then, once again, I lost the power…
I reset the box as a chuntering inveigher!
I hope I didn’t move the wrong relayer,
I exist in almost total disorder…
Now joined by my mental dyspraxia,
No socialisationing, so no clishmaclaver!
Life, to me, is a shyster, racketeer, & fraudster.

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Reasons for this undetailed blog

1) I was so far behind with the blogging.
2) I lost the notebook page by tearing it off the pad to do another in a failed effort to save time. I have no reminder notes; I can only use my memory with hints from the photographs the computer allowed me to save.
3) Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Seizure-Soaked-Sandra, Concentration-Crusher-Konrad.
4) After the third computer cleaning of the day (there were two more), I tried to save some CorelDraw rectangles to a file to save new things to the same name and then changed the name to suit the photo. Great idea, I thought. Three hours later, as I was saving the last one, which was saved, the eleven ones done earlier disappeared!
5). Depression Duncan Dawned.
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Bit of blood mixed in the nocturnal bag?

Morning views.

My beloved tree copse. I’d love to have a hobble through it again. But…

Late evening view.

Beef in rich stout gravy. With added chopped red onions. Cooked in the microwave, using the new Heat & Eat vented box. Potato chunks cooked in the Air Fryer. Brown ready-sliced cobs and an expensive Pots & Co. Lemon & Lime Posset.
So naughty, but nice!

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I found seven in ten minutes!
Ah, I’ve just found the eighth, a stud on his right boot!
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Boy, did I sleep better? Yes, I did? Did you? Oh, yes!
I must stop talking to myself!
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TTFN, thanks for reading my blog!

Injected Inchy: Tuesday 5th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

No electricity bills – it’s been cut off! Now, can everyone stop labelling me a crook, pensioner-pincher?

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I learnt today that my DNA was adenoviral…
Dying neurotransmitters made it aetiological…
To my brain, this was not logical…
It sounded pretty comical,
Most of my problems are neurological,
But this ailment may be attenuable…
That was a shock, unbelievable!
Me? Get an ailment that’s treatable?
Possibly, maybe perhaps, even curable!
The hope is to make this abrogable,
I thought this test result may be apocryphal,
He said it could be operationable…
There’s a chance your heart may go asystole,
“That’ll be fine; it’ll save me buying a pistol!”
He frowned & said; Are you suicidal?
“No, it was a joke, I was being risible!
He laughed, saying, “Haha, some people!”
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Continued from Monday:

The first visit to the WC was a Constipation Conrad torpedo of mammoth proportions, which pleased me, given the upcoming medical visits later today. There is less chance of embarrassment from any leaks.

I got on the computer to finish Monday’s blog. Then, most surprisingly, I was summoned to the porcelain Throne again. I was even more amazed at Trotsky Terence in control again! Which made me feel a fool for mentioning how pleased I was with Constipation Conrad. Now, I think the opposite. Coping with the bloody catheter is bad enough, especially with having to wear trousers again, the first time in months. I regained the worry over any leaks from the catheter or it filling up while I was out; now I fear things may escape from the rear end!
I pressed on with starting this blog. And half an hour into the job – unbloody-believable!
This third visit was messy and ultra-gooey in the extreme! It’s a good job that I have plenty of toilet paper and air freshener to hand in the wet room. Now, I worry about the bus journeys to and from the medics. Can I avoid any getting on and off of the bus? Will there be any waiting for what is needed? That will give it more time to leak or burst on the bus or during surgery. And walking is not an option anymore. That would take me an hour each way and almost guarantee an on the trips to and from Sherwood. It turned out to be a lot longer.

Stopping here, wait for the caregiver, put on socks, take medications, and then do the ablutions. Then, sort out what is needed for the trip and leave before midday for the surgery: bus pass, collapsable walking stick, Medical card, appointment card, and log book. Empty the catheter bag, wear new PPs, and wear trousers. Oh, and hearing aids and put on long-distance spectacles.+ Keys. 

It’s all a challenge that no one should have to go through. But, with no one to help, I must sort it out myself.
Life can be a @?*⇓⊗! No! Life is a @?*⇓⊗!.

Care Christopher arrived and put on my socks. He also took the laundry bag at my request. I haven’t received it yet, but it’s only been 25 hours so far. Oh, I get them back. 

Care Sam came later. She could see the state I was in with my nerves. She kindly helped me get the things together for the journey-to-hell send-back. (Well, it was a struggle, as I hope you will read about later.) Sam kindly walked me to the bus stop, which was kind of her. When leaving the flat, she returned to get my hat, which I had forgotten to put on. But, waiting for the bus, I remembered the last time I went on one and fell getting onto the bus, and then off of it!

I chickened out and walked down Winchester Street Hill into Sherwood, carefully and slowly. The famously cracked pavements were now covered with leaves in sheltered areas, and it was difficult to manoeuvre the three-wheeled-walker when hitting leaf-covered potholes. No falls yet. I reached the bottom of Winchester Street and went up Mansfield Road to the supposedly arranged flu jab at the top chemist. On the way up the hill, I called in the Co-op and got some food. As I walked up towards the chemist, the atmosphere was bleak. Nine people on that short stretch of the incline sat in closed shop doorways with the traditional pot of coffee, begging and giving out depressing stares that could melt you if you looked back at them. Poor devils or con men?
I plodded up the hill to the chemists, taking my time so I wasn’t too early for the flu jab appointment.
Whoopsiedangleplop. The lady said I was not booked for a jab, and anyway, the lady who does them is not in on Tuesdays. I explained that my caregiver had rung to make the appointment, but she may have made it at a different chemist. I might not have explained which one very carefully. I think I was in a mini-seizure when she made the calls. She recommended I try the bottom chemist, a quarter of a mile down the hill and almost up the high point on the right. So I began the long trek down and up Mansfield Road to the second chemist to investigate. I got so far down and remembered there was a chemist to the north that the Carer might have booked me in with. Turned around, passing the Co-op and first chemist back up the hill and down to the Daybrook Chemist. I was feeling knackered by then! Got there. So, back up the Mansfield Road Hill to Sherwood, down through Sherwood to the chemist.
Nope, I wasn’t booked in with him either.
He rang other chemists without any luck. But Carrington Chemist could do me now and give me the COVID-19 jab.
It was another dangerous trip over the hill and down into Carrington. Before crossing any roads, the pavements and high steps on that route need working out.
Finally, I got there and was told they would not start the injections for 20 minutes. ‘Take a seat’; I was told in a way that dared not take one. So, I sat down, knowing the agony I’d be in when standing up again from Cartilages Chloe & Carole! With all the walking and hobbling, fighting to keep three-wheeled-walker-wally from tipping over, that I’d done.
I was first in the queue, though. I got into the treatment room. The lady said she could not give me the DVT procedure but did give me the COVID and Flu jabs. An assistant stopped me on my way out. She had some Prescriptions that I could take with me. Which, hopefully, will mean Carer Richard will not have to fetch them for me this week. I must remember to tell the Carers later on about this.

Then, the long slog back up the Mansfield Road hill and down into Sherwood began.
I crossed the road to return on that side, thinking the pavements might be easier to navigate. They weren’t.
I pressed on steadily and carefully.
I did not experience arm pain, but there were plenty from the Cartilages. The arm aches started when I got into the flat.
I called into the continental shop and got some food. Then, I finally reached the bottom of Winchester Street. I have no idea of the bus timings nowadays, so I hastened… Haha! And hobbled up Winchester to the bus stop.
Luckily a bus was due in six minutes.
I stood up on the bus. I didn’t want to start Chloe and Carole off again. The arms were twinging a little now, not as bad as later on, and in the morning, Wow!

Gt in the flats, said hello to Warden Julie as I passed, and up to the flat. Food & sleep, I’m sure, were primarily on my mind.
And boy, after eating, (I took a snap of the meal as I recall, and the batteries ran out in Kodak Tim. Did I sleep? Yep! I slept for about 14 hours!

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INCHY’S PAINFUL INSPIRATION

I was so chuffed with my handling all of the confusion,
Although, at times, it seemed like a hallucination,
Sorting the chemistas out crippled my bunion!
I felt like I’d walked to and back from Euston!
It was painful to free myself from inaction,
I suffered incapacitation but had an incarnation.
Despite the pain from the Covid and Flu injections,
And having to face averbal inquisition,
I say this with no doubts but justification…

I believe this should/could be achievable…
Twice a week, if the weather is allowable…
I’ll take a walk around the flats, well, a hobble!
It may be stopped by Bunion Baz or Cartilage Carol,
Inchies, Fungal lesion, Diabetes, things Peripheral,
Seizures Sandra,  Sham’s Shocks electrical,
No problem, I can always reschedule!
The hobble will naturally start off ephemeral…
If this goes well, and my body is permissible,
Although these plans sound frangible…
My new power may make them possible!

But I’ve no desire to walk so far ever again!

TTFN

Idle not Idol Inchy: Sun 3 Nov 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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A day of struggling with my memory…
My concentration was kept in custody,
Gladys Glaucoma ensured my sight was misty,
The computer seemed friendlier to me, alackaday…
Well, in the early morning, anyway,
Pain on & off all day from Catheter Cathy,
Guess who was back? Toothache Tiffany!
Earache Erasmus also bothered me!
The mini-seizures got carried away…
So, the blog contents read scarcely.
I’ll catch up with it one day…
I’d better get on with it without delay…
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Nocturnal pouch today.

Morning views.

Tea!

Carers Ali, Kimberly & Richard
Kimberly

Afternoon Views
Seasonal colour changes.
Mother Nature!

Last Week’s Health Check Log
Managed to get it in on Monday.

Potatoes, tomatoes & beef.
Used the air-fryer for these.
No cooker/stove; it’s kyboshed!
Not too bad.
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TTFNski!

Inchy Today: Saturday 2nd November 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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He should have put ‘one word to describe this ode.’ Tsk!
Someone entered my flat, saying he was an alien…
I thought, surely this is an aberration?
I said you look like an Abyssinian,
He replied; The universe is my dominion…
I quipped, our leader lives in London…
Did you misjudge your landing?
He didn’t act like an authoritarian,
“I’m the Universal disciplinarian!…
To speak with you, cause of your acumen”,
I can’t cope with decisioning or botheration…
I have arithmaphobia, & am mentally broken!
But on the internet, you always log on!
Well, yes, Sir, I’ve put myself up for adoption,
Sir? Just address me as Zon,
Is that your name, Son?
No, it’s Starmer-The Holy-One…
Jesus, I’m worried about mankind’s preservation,
Well, you didn’t help the Indians on the reservation!
And what about the Jews and the Ukrainians?
Mankind evolved during experiments on plankton,
To the heavens, they are now an abomination,
So what can I do, Zon? 
You are the new chosen one!
How did I get in the line of succession?…
No, I’m too old, ready for heaven…
Zon faded into the ether, saying Untermenschen!
The alarm woke me up just before seven…
Well, that dream was full of diversification!
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I’m not joking; I scribbled this ode while having a Seizure.
Now, can I get help from a neurologist doctor? Hehe!
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The Prime Minister wrote on X: “Congratulations, Kemi Badenoch, on becoming the Conservative Party’s new leader. The first black leader of a Westminster party is a proud moment for our country. I look forward to working with you and your party in the interests of the British people.” (Not pensioners, of course)
Reading Starmers’ false-hearted comments, I felt nauseated.
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Computer Cock-ups Galore.
Repeated Seizures had me seething.
Stuttering-Stephanie made communications silly!
Computer farce with saving the photos!
The hot water tap was left running cold again!
Iceland Delivery came.
CorelDraw is going so slow that I’m concerned.
Another rush job to get this blog done.
Carer Joanne is feeling better – Hurrah! Goood News…

Frighteningly dark urine in the nocturnal bag!.

Another bit of good and bad news.
Good: The new wire washing sheets work wonders on the hobs of the cooker cleaning.
Bad: I need a new cooker!,

The Iceland delivery arrived.

I took this snap of the carrier bags in my super-massive hallway (Hehe!) I could see some objects formed by the bags. Can you see anything in there?
Pareidoliaer wise?

Got the fridge filled a bit now.

The Pukka pies are a new product.
Made to be cooked in the microwave.
That’ll do me with the cooker now
kaputt and deceased.

Carer Chris did the first call.

Before starting the blog, I popped into the balcony to see if anything would be worth photoing and was greeted with
Seagull poo down the glass! Humph!

The seizures, although no long ones today, were coming to regularly for my liking. It may not be the case, but I felt I took much longer to overcome each one.
The doctor did say things would only get worse.

A great choice was in the fridge if I fancied a sarnie to nibble on yeast extract, Asda, and Vegemite. They are also good as flavouring in some meals, the ones I used to make using the oven that I can no longer do due to the demise of the oven. I’ve only had it for… Ah, yes. I think it was 2008 when I bought it. I can’t get another one until the funds build up. But, I’ve got the microwave and a diddy air-fryer, so I’ll be able to cope with my usual aplomb and calm, capably copeable manner as I do with these things.

When Carer Joanne came in, I chirped tremendously. After I asked her how she felt, she said she felt much better today. Great!

At least there was no rushing to get to the Porcelain Throne in time and being late this time. I did hit my shoulder on the doorframe, entering the wet room. I never used to do this when I had a cataract problem. This Glaucoma Gladys ailment must be worse than the cataract? But, they tell me it will be treated with a laser, in the same way, but it will take a lot longer, and I’ll have to take someone, relative, friend or caregiver with me to have the procedure at the hospital. No relative or friend to help, so a costly carer is the option. But the hospital has to write in the appointment that I ‘Have’ to bring a carer with me, and not just say they advise me to get one.

When I had the cataract done, they struggled to get cover for someone to come with me. The carer who came could not stay waiting for me and left. But she was very kind and left me notes with a nurse on what I had to do when I got home. I’d got a lift that day with Easy-Link. I think the young lady carer was either finishing a shift before coming with me or had a chance to start. Nice gal. She did her best, thank you gal.
I waffled again there! I’m a rare but good waffler when I get someone to listen to me. Haha!

Much to my surprise, the computer, which had been a bugger for not letting me save things, allowed me to save last night’s sunset views that I tried and failed to go two or three times yesterday. YeeHaa! Not a bad selection. Then, it was back once again to visit the .
I needed to rush a little more this time, and I’m so glad I did!
It was a close call, but I can cope with them after having three ‘got-there-too-late events over the week.
A bit of a worry was discovered on this visit.
was oozing blood a smidge worryingly. I had to change the protective pants; they were stained a lot.
I’ll have to check this more regularly. It’s never bled so much before. Well, having said that, it has been worse, but that was when I fell off the bus at the bottom of Winchester Street and got myself tangled up in my own walker. I can remember how some kind of people came to my rescue. One lady said how pale I looked, I said I was on my way to the dentist and she walked me up to the surgery. Such a kind, appreciated gesture. ♥
I could not believe it myself, but as I came out of the dentist and got to the bus shelter, a bus came straight away, and I tripped getting onto the bus. That was a while ago, but the memory is still evident.

I tried again to get more Bookmarks on the bar. But started again, some, most, only latest for seconds. It destroyed what bit of concentration & confidence I had. It was getting late, and I gave up.

The meal was not really a meal. I felt so drained, too much to start cooking, especially with the microwave I’m not used to using. So I made two ready-sliced baps, sliced tomatoes, sea salt, and Marmite. I had a bag of Frazzles with it, and I sat down to watch some football on the TV. 
Do you know, I really enjoyed it! I had it on a paper plate, so there was no washing up to do. Hahaha!

About ten minutes into the game, I drifted off into Sweet Abvilion. Zzz! I woke up with the usual jerking neck, what seemed like every other ten minutes. I gave up on the TV as well. I sorted the night pouch and struggled into the bed, where I just carried on nodding and waking up for the next four hours. Then I gave up on that, too.

I finished this in the late morning.
I was still coughing & yawning!
The fungal lesion had blood pouring…
Which wasn’t too assuring…
My mind was busy bolixing!
So, please do your best to get some relaxing,
And get some extra rest in, 
The last tip I am offering…
Carrots help your brain in calibrating!

 
TTFNski!