Inchy: Monday 6th January 2025

07/01/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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I wish I didn’t hate Liberty-Global anymore…
My distrust of them makes my brain sore,
L-G bought Virgin Media, costing $24b for sure!
The internet service has grown evermore poor…
Phone to complain you get an AI advisor, an IVR,
I wish to leave! You’ll not get an answer…
You get put through to talk to another,
You listen for an hour to a musical overture,
Another robot answers: pick options 1 to 24,
Get to speak to a human with their own agenda,
Offering packages that can save you more…
You stop to take a tablet, an antiseizure.
Upgrade to the £240 monthly package,
It’s on offer, 25.2% off until November!
Of course, it’s all crap, a load of bilgewater,
Then the line goes dead, Hell & Highwater!
These Virgin agents are getting smarter…
Their whims, cons, & deceit is getting cagier,
Days later, they ring you! To tell yer…
EE have a fantastic new customer offer?
Also, BT has one that’s a little costlier…
But their broadband is so much bigger?
You’d be better off going onto our fibre!
You say I’ll think about it, my dear…
You ring off, thinking there’s summat queer…
Are they using a sort of counterpropaganda?
Their response you can’t decipher,
So puzzled, you decide to consult Alexa!

The reason soon becomes plain to see…
Liberty-Global bought Virgin; we agree…
The Chair of L-G get a $64m salary yearly,
They are so rich, beyond any moderator,
Bought out/invested in many a supplier…
Vodafone, BT, EE, UPC, Canal+, Three…
The world’s largest cable company.,
Mango, Yves Rocher, Pizza Hut, & ITV plc,
So, recommending offers from another company,
Makes sense now, at least to me, clearly…
So, they might be the biggest Oligarchy?
With the world facing its fatal finale,
Oligarchs beseech: Can I take it with me?
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What an odd day!
I can honestly say,
Come what may,
The morning was alackaday,
The afternoon… Oh yay…
The seizures refused to go away,
Nothing could be done medically,
I considered my options, alcoholically,
Ruined my chances of adaptability,
Errors in spelling, a missed apostrophe…
Grammar, spelling, correcting, abominably,
Plans executions all with indeterminacy,
The entire day flowed with ambiguity,
I say flow, twas a stutter in reality,
So long and often spent condemnatorily,
My own thoughts & intentions were a mystery,
Ideas created, seconds later were history…
No contentment, satisfaction, peace or equanimity,
Yet a Carer saved the day, it was Chloe,
An email arrived; Telegraph was taking my money,
£239 for my supposed subscription pay?
Chole soon made this worry go away,
She cancelled it for me – Hurrah!
Seizure Sandra started again, alarmingly,
More blog mistakes, I got little done accurately,
I struggled to analyse even simple things today,
Until 1700hrs, when Sandra went away…
Typing this, expecting her to be back shortly,
I apologise for this blog, which is also shortie,
Not the right word, but it rhymed, you see,
After regaining a modicum of semi-logicality,
I did my best to try to be poetically witty
So, I wrote you all this funny little ditty,
Which you may consider a pity?
It’s less exciting than embroidery,
Neither is it extraordinary,
My mind’s less fragmentary,
I feel better; fractionally,
I’ve lost my lunacy,
I now feel… solitary,
Alone, lonely,
Is it January?
I’m hungry,
It’s back… the caducity!
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I got carried away there. It is now 18:25hrs.
I’ve no chance of getting this done unless another one of my working through the early morning sessions.
I’ll rush; forgive any blaring mistakes & cock-up, please.
Here I go. No, I don’t! I just remembered I’ve got a food order coming! I’d better wait until that arrives; otherwise, I’ll be lost if the Seizures start again.
Here I go, a quickie, I hope… I must not get so carried away when typing, do you hear me? Me: Yes, sorry.

Nocturnal Pouch.

Waste bags were collated & taken to the chute.
Feel guilty now; it was too early in the day!

Changed the date and day on my super-modern 1972 calendar clock.
Shot through the kitchen window.
Rain relacing the snow now.

Made a brew of Co-op 99 tea.

Seizures started, and the following may be out of chronological order.

Balcony shot. What a mudslide!

In the afternoon, most of the morning events were lost.
Carer Richard came, but I can’t read my memory notes for Richards’s visit. So, no details.

I recall taking this shot. I was flabbergasted to see they still had scaffolding on this home. Over a year now since I first saw it? Cowboys?

It took this one later.

Afternoon blue skies.

Food en route.

Evening.

Found my sense of humour when the seizures eased off.
Took this snap of the Nurses and Carers nibble box.
Then, this close-up.
I think the Mars bars and Twix have been mating?
Hahaha!

Carer Chloe helped me sort out the email from the Telegraph about them charging me for my subscription. What I can’t remember taking out? For over £200! Chloe sorted it out and showed me how to cancel it. ♥ Well, she did it!

Carer Promise did the last two calls today. With me coughing & sneezing, he found a short pair of diabetic soaks to go on and took off the long ones. Kind of him.

Later in the evening.
I took these snaps

Here’s some of the nosh delivered.
From the Co-op via Amazon.

Now, I am going to get something to eat,
And see if any football is on the telly to watch.
If I can stay awake, of course.

I will be back in the morning to update you on this.

G’d Morning!
Two cheesy rolls with non-butter butter & cheese spread. Sliced tomatoes (No finger cuts). Marmite & salt added!
Onion rings, pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes & onions. Water chestnuts, chicken thigh. Two naughty strawberry doughnuts to follow.
The chicken was tasteless, hence a lower rating.

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Cheery Byes!
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Inchy: Sunday 5th January 2025

06/01/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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My biggest current hated one is Starmer,
Prospective murderer of every pensioner…
Over-taxing every single farmer,
Our UK leader, food shortage creator,
Labour Party standards & morals abolisher,
Lady Starmer shops at Harrods, not Asda,
He’s started the UK exodus, the diaspora,
Couldn’t give a toss about the poorer,
I’d love to kick him in his detrusor!
He’s a deceitful and clever truth-denier
A freebooter, ever seeking a backhander,
An out-of-order denunciator,
His talks are klutzier, a send-to-sleeper!
Blaming others for his faults, a derogator,
He thinks he’s superior, an exemplar…
A political King, a Simon Templar,
Listening to him yak, installs longueur,
Starmer’s budget was a villain’s charter,
I believe he’s infected with Cherophobia…
Except when taking a political sweetener,
He’s no vivifier but often a vilifier!
Not a captivator, more a verbal chloroformer,
The best manipulative political by-omission liar!
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I woke up with the regulation jerk and jump. I got on the side of the hospital bed and tackled, freeing the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Kimberly told me it was 6 on the NHS Richter scale card. Then I looked at the clock, seeing it was only 0350 hrs. I pondered getting back into bed, but the innards started rumbling and grumbling at that moment.
So, I rose to hobble to the wet room, quite carefully at first, as she was a little delicate, and I feared she may give way in me. This thought was forgotten as soon as I’d thought of it! The rear-end motion began to move of its own accord!
. And I hobbled at my best attainable rate to the wet room… I didn’t make it in time. . I don’t need to go into any detail, do I?
20 minutes later, I cleaned up the mess, sprayed the room with air freshener and went out of the wet room door… I hit the door frame with my right shoulder as gave way. Perfect timing from Carole. Kicked off, naturally. But physically, I am used to this happening. Mentally, I get annoyed and angry, especially following the automatic-style evacuation.
Making it worse, I had to put on the bulky protection pants in case it happened again. Tchah!

To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. Why should this calm me down? I don’t understand, but many folks do the same.
I saw the snow through the kitchenette window. The photo did not come out well. So I bravely went out onto the balcony to take more pictures of the state of the roads. Starting with the front car park.

Then I opened the left end window to take this shot on the left of the car park further along Chestnut Way
Finally, through the right end window of the end car park. After trapping my finger and closing the window, I wondered how many I’d had until now. I think I’d only been up for an hour; what else is in store for me? Hehehe!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a fresh brew of Glengettie tea.
I took it to the main junk room and to the computer thingy.
Adjusted my relic of a clock calendar’s day and date. And a real rarity here… I dunked four of my favourite cookies in the tea without any of the biscuits getting dropped.
Seconds later… , . I knocked the tea mug off the desk, dropping it into the waste bin.
Surely this farce can’t go on any further? Still, getting them out of the way early in the day is best.
So, I cleaned it up and then collated the waste bins into one bag. And with no further calamities, mishaps, or
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Kicked off within minutes of me getting on with the blog. Thankfully, they were short, but so many of them over the next four hours.

Carer Shaq arrived. He had an inkling that I was not right, although I don’t think I had any when he was here. I did tell him later about them, though. He sorted the medications and adorned me with diabetic socks. We had a natter, but what about is anyone’s guess.

I went back to blogging and continued. I felt I was working well, but of course I wasn’t. Each time I returned to mock-life, I checked what had been done while I was in La-La Land, finding errors every time. Thus, it took me far too long to get it done. But I got there eventually.

I stopped to take some more pictures of the weather-bashed view. This was of the bottom field below the tree copse. Some kids had gotten plastic sleighs out and were having fun. I got the Kodak out when I saw the kids, but they had gone by the time I returned to the window. (Is this Possibly an unnoticed seizure?)
No wonder I’m concerned about taking a bus and walking in traffic. Being housebound—well, flatbound—benefits someone in my condition. Haha!
I made another brew of tea, Co-op 99, this time. Since it looked like just past 2 p.m. on the clock, I resisted any biscuits.

I grafted on with this blog, but I’m not getting very far very quickly, even though the frequency has slightly decreased. Anyway, the things I noticed after the event were all short-term affairs, which suits me.

I made yet another brew, Glengettie, this time. But I left it to mash for a few minutes and forgot about it. Harrumph!

Carer Kimberley called. She kindly put some cream on my bleeding lips and nose. I had not noticed. It’s not unusual for the pain from cracked lips and gums or for other pains, but I didn’t realise how much they were bleeding. Bless Her ♥. The £599.00 /100 ml Toothache pain relief spray is so effective. Thankfully, I still have some in-store to use, and I use them.

Blimey, I saw the fog descending as I returned the mug to the kitchenette. There had been cold winds, a bit of rain, then snow, and the fog was coming on. Almost eyra looking.
As I write this, I just glanced at the balcony, and the fog is even thicker now. Mind you, I think I’m getting thicker—physically and mentally.

Hello, is having a go at me now. A persistent little Madam as well.

Long, well, massive periods of Mind-Blanks.
Scary that I did not know what had happened for hours.

I’ll see what fodder in the fridge and freezer can attract me to my earlier-than-usual desire for food.

The fish in batter appealed. But with frequent momentary visits from , I had the nonce not to risk fancy cooking. But I fancied these battered fish, so I risked cooking them in the mini-oven, making sure that I was doing nothing else so I could concentrate and not move from the kitchen all the time they were cooking, and I checked on them all the time. I was then aware of burn and fire risk limitations.

I ate all these without any bread—just some peas—and they were enjoyed immensely. I cleared and cleaned up. Then, I settled into 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, and turned on the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV.

I tried to put on the Oligarch’s Fibre rediculously exspensive full-of-repeats Virgin Media TV. But it would not let me. No Signal came up about 2000 times in response to pressing the button. So I gave up. I was getting weary of this.

Despite Dizzy Dennis, & Confusion Konrad, Tired-Out-Inchy won the battle and drifted off to sleep.

Carer Richard woke me up to make the last call of the day. I was in the right state! Mumbling and knowing I was doing so this time. I fear things did not go well. I’ve no idea why.

Richard departed, and I floated back into heavenly sleep.
Just a few moments of waking up, I blissfully returned to the land of nod each time.

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Inchy: Saturday 4th January 2025

05/01/2025 / Inchie / 12 Comments

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No chance of my thoughts getting rejuvenation,
My original creation, lost in the brains reticulation,
I move on to something of no relation,
I fear that I’ve hosted retardation,
My thoughts bear little relation…
To the current topic, No reconceptualization,
FND & Dementia, both a rapscallion,
No medical understanding or ratification,
Sneezing, coughing, farting & ructation,
Common sense, logicality in retrogression,
Practicality and hope are past their rubicon…
Sanity & I are beyond reconciliation!
Acne, eczema, boil in my bellybutton,
Daily existence is now a botheration,
I’ve gone downhill since my confirmation,
Existence has become challenging, an aberration,
No peace, joy, company or coruscation,
I’ve lived my life in bourgeoisification,
My plans and designs became just a botheration,
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To the world, these are my last claims, declarations,
I claim to have more than most do of individuality,
You do that when your life’s been an abomination,
Life was good until my 60th birthday celebration,
I’d been thrown in the canal, but life was fun,
Then my life suffered, a massive bifurcation…
Had to have a major heart operation,
Went deaf, Cataract, a rear-passage operation…
Fell into a fishing pond when on vacation,
Made redundant, jobless, the humiliation,
Job hunting was a complete circumbilivagination…
Ending, failing, no one employing…
62-year-old Inchy, accused of shirking!
By the Department of Employment & working,
All I could get was a job in Security Guarding,
I shot twice, minimum pay, embarrassing!
Redundant again, by the Sawley Security,
This was the end of working for me,
A duodenal Ulcer lodged in my tummy,
Then diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy,
They made my testicles, Cancer-free,
Cognitive Impairment came to lodge with me,
Bladder Cancer diagnosed dauntingly,
Catheter Contraption was fitted for free,
Ever since, every day has been agony,
Then Dementia was discovered, then FND,
All getting worse, thankfully slowly…
The bowels passing, either solid or mushy,
Never normal… but that’s me to a tea!
I should be complaining vociferously…
Then Starmer gets in, tragically,
Oozing criminogenically: corruptively,
Lining his pockets with things for free…
I’ve lost the plot of this Ode… Sorry!
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A much better week!
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I gave up after trying to get back to sleep for a long time. I was in the c1966, £300 second-hand charity shop-bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-Testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. A lousy night, the worst one for ages, and I was so tired, but Sweet Morpheus didn’t want me to rest. I must have nodded off dozens of times. It felt like each one was on for only minutes. Hey-Ho!

0430 hrs: I got my horrendously massively-bellied body out of the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. My first task was removing the attached nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag.

I must admit, I surprised myself as I started to hobble around with .
The balance was, as usual for that time of day, dodgy. But I noticed that my were much kinder to me this morning. I decided to take advantage and set to do a few jobs while I felt capable. I sorted all the waste bin liners into one big bin liner and put them near the door. I’ve only got one outer door, so it was easy to find. Hahaha! I am a fool. I started cleaning the kitchen tops but diverted to the wet room. As I was on my way, I thought something was wrong here; yesterday, Constipation Conrad was in complete control, and my innards warned me to move on to avoid earlier-than-planned leaks or evacuations. Good job that I did rush, too. It was milliseconds after I’d got seated that the tsunami started. It lasted for a good while. The cleaning up took a long time. I creamed and ointmentated the required areas of my anatomy… is that the right word? Half an hour later, all was done. I avoided putting on the protective pants by foolishly not wearing fresh ones after washing. Why? I’ll tell you. The pain from the Catheter tube can be worse when putting the Tena ones on. Usually, especially when Trotsky Terence is active, there is a chance that I’d be caught out later on with involuntary escapages. Even if no one knows, I’ve often felt so embarrassed in this situation. Writing this prompted an iota of common sense. And I went to put some on. The agony of bending the knee caused me to lose balance, and I tore the pants. They are not cheap. I tried again, and more pain aided me to force the leg to go in. Unfortunately, I lost balance and hit my right knee against the Porcelain. Was not amused, and let me know. Suddenly, I lost my appetite for getting jobs done.

In a semi-sulk, I got the kettle on and took this photograph of the very early morning view on offer from the kitchenette window. There was no fog, a few clouds, and the winds had died down from yesterday. The outside temperature on the computer was showing Nottingham as 0.0ºc. Freezing?

As I started on the computer, I had a bout of phlegm coming up and sneezing. Within maybe a minute, they both stopped. There’ll be a reason for this. Then my nosh started to bleed and run into my mouth and onto my chin? I was busy soaking it up for about ten minutes before I stopped the main flow. The handle was handy as a kitchen roll holder near the computer chair. Cunning!

I checked the cupboard for snacks. The micro rice stood out, so I decided that would do. I seasoned it with water, added basil and BBW flavouring, and boiled the water. Then, I grabbed the packet – !
Would you like to guess the sell-by-date I found on the packet? Here are some loose clues for you: ⒈I threw the rice away. ⒉The date was when the UK Covid-19 vaccinations started. ⒊The four numbers of the year add up to 6, one being a nought. ⒋Three numbers are the same. ⒌These three rhyme with stew.
Go on, have a guess, just for a bit of fun!

Carer Chris issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on my legs and had a nibble and drinkie-poo. He” be back, he said. Haha!
While Chris was here, I had several mini-seizures in a very short time. After I’d cleared my head, Chris said that I had them in the computer chair, and I was bumbling instead of talking and shaking on my right side, with my head down throughout. He was on the verge of calling 999 when I suddenly started talking usually, but I didn’t know I had been in the first place. Chris had to shoot of, and I felt different, but not poorly or anything like that. Just slightly confused. I thought. But the (about) next two hours disappeared.
Carer Joanne called for the midday visit & to see how I was. And I was normal. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be.

I took a forgotten afternoon view through the inner glass door of the balcony. Then, I continued updating, checking over and correcting many mistakes in the latter part of the blog.

Carer Joanne came. Asking how I was, I said fine, thank you. Bless her ♥

Returned, but they were back to the regular sort. Some of them lasting just a minute or thereabouts. I know where I am with these. Well…

Darkness dawned. I took these snaps.
The lovely blue hue was back tonight.

I’m waiting now for the eveningCarer to arrive. Soon, I hope. Cause I’m getting hungry, but not enough to rescue that rice.
Hahaha!

I’ll do some work on this blog while waiting.

No good, I’ll have to make a meal!
Milk Roll bread bacon with sliced tomato sarnies.
Home-made pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes and onion, and pickled water chestnuts. I forgot to put the pickled beetroots on the plate. Tsk! A pot of pickled ketchup for dunking the sarnies it. And a lemon dessert.

After eating and washing up, Carer Chris arrived, and I sat down to see if there was any football in the box. He came early and was in a rush, which suited me. He didn’t skip or miss any medications, took my diabetic socks off, and put on the night catheter bag. However, in the morning, I discovered he had forgotten to retake the laundry and the waste bag. Otherwise, he’s been a good lad this week. Bless him.

The football was on the box, but not for an hour yet. I struggled to stay awake until it started. As usual, I drifted off into slumberland when the first adverts came on goggle-box. I woke up with a jump when the football programme screen credits started rolling as it finished. I seem to have a habit of doing this. Humph!

I turned off the TV and went back to Sweet Morpheus.
I kept waking up so often I got annoyed by it. However, each time, I got back to sleep quickly. When I woke again, I could see through the window that snow had fallen.

Zzz’s.
TTFN.

Inchy: Friday 3rd January 2025

04/01/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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Inchy: Why do you mention I’m depressed?
Grim: You are obviously out of it detracted!
Inchy: Detracted? No, but I am dim-witted,
Grim: Delipidated, & diabetically demented,
Inchy: Well, to a small degree, I do feel dejected,
Grim: And discriminated, against, disenchanted?
Inchy: Well, possibly disjointed & dislocated,
Grim: You’re feeling undiagnosed, disregarded?
Inchy: How do you know all this? I’m dumbfounded,
Grim: You look & sound like an eggheaded plod!
Inchy: You’re saying I’m dunderheaded?
Grim: Yes, & downcast, discontented, disoriented,
mentally dissected, & obviously diapered,
Inchy: Hang on… am I or not being Grim Reapered,
Grim: You’re on the waiting list, position 623rd!
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0315hrs: I sprang awake more slowly today. A certain reluctance lingered as I noted what the time was. I tried to get back to sleep, but it was impossible. I removed the overnight Catheter Pouch. Cartilage Carole did not bother me as I tried to rise, but Cartilage Chloe had it for me. By the time I’d carried the nocturnal bag to the WC for emptying, she had given way twice. No falls or tumbles, though. I emptied the pouch and wrapped it up. Then I had a search for the reading spectacles lost yesterday, in I thought, the wet room. Talk about reversals; after days of Trotsky Terence in charge, Constipation Conrad was back in charge. After a determined and painfully encouraging, pushing session, I gave up any hopes of achieving evacuationing.

With figuratively crossed fingers, I put the computer on and started to upload and save the photos for yesterday’s post updating. One went okay this time.

Within ten minutes, I needed to visit the Porcelain, hoping that this time Constipation Conrad had eased off enough for me to evacuate. Off I trundled to the wet room.
After I bought more toilet rolls to counter Trotsky Terence, Conrad Constipation returned with a vengeance!
It may have only been a few minutes to force things along. Painfully! It was more like the shape of the H-Bomb, Little Boy. I needed another couple of minutes to recover from the effort! Hehe! I can laugh now! On the bright side, cleaning up after the evacuation was easy.

I poddled back to the computer. After four more hours, around 0800hrs, I realised the Carer had not arrived yet. And it showed the outside temperature at -3°c when I first put the computer on. It’s showing 0°c now. Still too cold not to have my socks on. Brrr! I will make a mug of tea to help warm me up, then put a quilt over me when I return to the computer. They can leave off the midday call now; no point in medications. I have to leave 4 hours between each tablet and medicine taking. 08:10hrs now.

0905hrs: Carer Christopher came as I took photos of the cold-looking morning views.
First, Chris got the medications issued. He remembered to put on the diabetic socks for me, and after I reminded him, the Friday fitting of a fresh day pouch was carried out. Hehe! We chatted, and he nibbled on the treats throughout. Haha!
The lad did a decent job fitting the day catheter. The socks are now keeping me warm, and I feel a warm sensation that things could turn for the better now.
Why? A Good questions.
Answer: I’ve no idea.
But it could be because I got help yesterday from outsiders. DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse Christina, Catheter bags ordering. Matron Julie, with the BP and health checks, and Anne Gyna were not playing up so much.

Here are the photographs taken just before Carer Chris arrived. I’ll change that. Here is the picture taken just before Carer Chris arrived. The Kodak sent the other one taken into the ether. Humph!

I went to the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running. I’m doing this too often lately, and it gets me mad at myself… feeling guilty and depressed. But not this morning. I came out and went to put the kettle on and found the missing pair of long-range glasses sitting on top of the mini oven. This cheered me considerably, and I took the spectacles to the junk room, where I cleaned them, finding out… . I must have put them on there and then cooked the sausages for half an hour… the frames are now warped! I didn’t cry, but it was a close thing. But it doesn’t bother me.

Frustrated, I made a fresh mug of Glengettie tea. And raided my biscuit box. I wish I hadn’t now.
The first dunk in the tea with one of the large LU cookies and the biscuit crumbled and fell in the mug, splashing the old-fashioned clock/calendar, cabinet me, and the notepad. Humph!

I was peed off with myself again. I carried on with the blog and finished yesterday’s work. A text message told me the food order would arrive between 1100 & 1200hrs.
So I got some boxes and carriers near the door to use when the delivery arrives. I took the large waste bag to the chute without walking into anything or finger-trapping.

I looked at Cavendish Vale houses to see if the loft drug growers were at it again. Looks like it to me. Do you see the roofs that were defrosted earlier than others? That looks suspicious to me. And there were two police cars and a van on it yesterday evening.
I went into a Sherlock Holmesian mode then. Sorry about that. Hahaha!

Around 1400 hrs, the Mini-Seizures, the kindest they have ever been since she moved in with Peripheral Pete and Nicodemus’s Dying Neurotransmitters, started making a belated charge and engaged her attack mode.
During this, Carer Joanne called, and we started sharing jokes and events; it was like having medicine. I was almost entirely with it suddenly. No sooner than Joanne departed the flat, then began again, and stayed with me a long time. Everything went hazy. They were extremely short events, but was that a good thing? It seemed I could not get anything right on this block. Each time I came out of one, I had to check everything I’d done and correct it. Also, this is the first time I’ve gone back into a mini seizure so quickly, and on one occasion that I recall, I was putting things right and went off again. What the… I nearly swore then; heck is going on. And this morning, she was all but absent? The nurse thinks they are a part of Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. I searched the web to see if I could find anyone who suffers from it and found anything to counter it. I only got as far as this bit that I’ve copied on neurotransmitters.

Here are some key facts about neurotransmitters, which are chemical messengers in the body & brain. Their function is to transmit signals from nerve cells to target cells. These signals help regulate bodily functions ranging from heart rate to appetite. Neurotransmitters are part of the nervous system. Neurotransmitters are released from the end of an axon into the synapse, where they travel across to receptors on the next neuron. The neurotransmitters fit into the receptors like keys into locks. How they influence neuronsNeurotransmitters can influence neurons in three ways: excitatory, inhibitory, or modulatory. Excitatory neurotransmitters promote action potential signalling, while inhibitory ones prevent it. Examples of neurotransmitters Serotonin is an inhibitory neurotransmitter that helps regulate mood, behaviour, sleep, and memory. Epinephrine, or adrenaline, is an excitatory neurotransmitter that stimulates the central nervous system. (Hence Shaking Shaun? Shaking Shoulder Shirley & Twitching Neck Nigel?) Abnormal levels of neurotransmitters can lead to dysregulation of brain functions and various diseases. Examples of Disorders Associated With Defects in Neurotransmission
Autism, Anxiety, Autism spectrum disorders, Brain injury, Depression, Seizure disorders, Neuroleptic malignant syndrome, Pain, Parkinsonism, Parkinson disease, Schizophrenia, Tardive dyskinesia, Myasthenia gravis, Amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, Episodic ataxias (that’ll be Seizure Sanda?), Hyperkalemic periodic paralysis, Hypokalemic periodic paralysis, paramyotonia congenita, Rasmussen encephalitis, & Organophosphates.

I was going to go on to check Peripheral Neuropathy and my other ailment, but after reading this about my dying neurotransmitters… what’s the point?
It all baffles me. With so many things connected, it’s not surprising that the clinic gave this answer when I asked years ago, What is the treatment?
“There is none; no one can save a dying nerve end”.
Of course, as I knew, it was slowly getting worse, and I was getting more depressed with it all.

I just had to force myself to check on the first Peripheral Neuropathy explanation that came on my search.
PN: Peripheral neuropathy is a type of nerve damage that can cause a variety of symptoms, including:

Numbness, tingling, or prickling: (Yes, I’ve got all of them)

These sensations can start in your hands or feet and spread up your arms and legs.

Pain: You might experience sharp, burning, throbbing pain or pain during activities that shouldn’t cause pain. (Yes, that’s me!

You might experience muscle weakness or loss of muscle tone. (Yes, I’ve got them)

Loss of balance: You might experience difficulty coordinating or falling. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)

Changes in sensation: You might not feel temperature changes or pain. (Spot on again!)

Other symptoms: You might experience cramping, muscle twitching, changes in skin, hair, or nails, or emotional disturbances. (Yes, I’ve got all of them)
Autonomic changes: You might experience heat or cold intolerance. Or related problems.

Problems with blood pressure, bowel or bladder control, or swallowing. (Yes, I’ve got all of them) In fact, the DVT Warfarin INR level is dropping again, and they are going to send me some Enoxaparin injections to go in the stomach three times a day on both sides. I’m looking forward to injecting myself, if not needed to, for over a year now. No problem, really… apart from the pain. Which is something I’ve learnt to live with… Live? Me? Cope with, is a more accurate statement.

To add to possible concerns, there’s Metal Micky in my ticker. Toothache Tiffiny, Bad Hearing Boris, Gladys Glaucoma, Catheter Cathy’s Contraption, Diabetes2, FND, Colin Cramps, a daily Porcelain Throne Visits with a choice of Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad (it’s always one or the over, never normal), Diabetic Polyneuropathy, Deakness, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Arthur Itis & Cartilage Damage in both knees, Little Inches fungal lesion bleeding, Mind-Blanks, Short Term Memory Problems, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete’s Leg Dances & Right Arm Hitler Salutes, both involuntary, Back-Pain-Brenda, Onychovryptosis (ingrowing toenail), Earaches Erasmus, and Eczema & Acne. I may have missed a few. Hehehe!

Do you know, the chinwag & laugh with Joanne, then the nurse, had was a reet treat.

The later seizures seem to be a little different.
Gar more shaking from the right arm & leg. More persistent with it as well. My head was involuntarily bent down and forward on each of the last four episodes. I’d be lost if I didn’t have at least one new ailment or quirk to worry about daily.
The shock could be fatal. Haha!

Daily FodderCheesy cobs & tomatoes were lovely. As was the pickled mushrooms, red cabbage & onions.
The pork pie & potatoes were not so good.
Ah, well, can’t win ’em all!

I suddenly felt weary and tired. Almost instantly, after turning off the computer, Carer Christopher arrived, removed my socks, and medicated me. He covered me with a quilt after putting on my night catheter pouch; bless him. He knew I would not make it into the hospital bed tonight, and he was right!
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TTFN

Busy, Busy Inchy: Tues 31 December 2024 Part Two

01/01/202501/01/2025 / Inchie / 7 Comments

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For me, a gal must ooze pulchritudinous,
It matters not if she is or isn’t punctilious…
Precarious, precautious, or even predaceous!
As long as she’s not pompous or pretentious,
She can show practicalness or be pecunious,
Be prosperous, silly, or pugnacious,
Be pretentious, previous, or procacious,
For one to attract me, she must be plumptious,
No need for her to be clever or perspicacious
I’m not after bodily prettiness,
As long as she likes a laugh and is pervious,
I pray she’ll not be disloyal or perfidious,
A septuagenarian, & a smidge mischievous!
I could buy us a couple of paragliders,
Sorry if that sounded a smidge perverse,

Haha!
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I had a bad fall when I reached this stage, so I called it Part One and posted it off. An hour or so later, the nurse called, tending to the burst bag and bleeding from the tumble. Bless Her♥. I’ve made a brew of Glengettie and am starting again from here. I doubt if I’ll get this finished before midnight… well, I won’t. I wanted to stay awake to take the celebration fireworks at midnight, but I fear it may be too much. I’m praying that the seizures leave me alone. Depression creeping in again!
– – – I’ll press on – Seizures and if the catheter allows it. – – –
I’ve had a couple of bad days. Tsk!

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06:30hrs: I grumblingly rose from the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Knowing that after yesterday’s farcicalness, I had a busy day ahead of me. The morning’s Carer, then the domestic Carer, the food delivery, the INR Warfarin Nurse Hristina, and the midday Carer, and I was so far behind with the blogging I didn’t think I’d get yesterday done, let alone start on today. (Just the usual bleak morning moan to myself, nowadays) Little did I know what I had in store, or I may not have bothered getting up! I wish I hadn’t got up now, but not then. I think I got that right?

I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. This is one of them I had to buy cause of the mess up and lack of help with my ordering. Some do have a drainage clip that has no drainage tube. Took it to the WC and used scissors to cut and drain the pouch. Still, it was no bother and went okay. As I got to the kitchen to get the kettle on, the innards grumbled and rumbled; in response, I returned hastily to the Porcelain Throne.
Trotsky Terence was now back in full control! The evacuated product funked awful. It took me ages to clean up the splatters from my clothes and the china.

I got the ablutions, a stand-up shave, teggies, body scrub, oiled the earholes, and drops in the eyes. Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Barrier Creamed the Acne & Eczema. Then Porpain Gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cartilage Carol & Chloe’s knees, the underbelly lesions & underarms. I couldn’t reach Phorpain Gel Back Pain Brenda; I was going to ask someone, a Carer, when they came next. But of course, I forgot all about it, even when she was playing me up! I’m forgetting more each day! Into the kitchen.
I tried to get some decent shots of the views on offer through the window. But the photos didn’t come out very well.
Not up to even my low standards.
The last one I took of the houses on Cavendish Avenue was one of my biggest photograph failers ever. No idea what I did wrong, but Surely I must have done something wrong to get this terrible result on the right?

I returned to the wet room to ensure I hadn’t left the taps running. As I came out, the intercom chirped at me. I could not see who it was, so I thought it might be the deliveryman with the oh-so-expensive night catheters I’d had to order.
But no! It turned out that it was Friday’s (as I thought) JS order. Fancy me getting things wrong like that! The driver kindly put the food in carriers and my boxes and then carried them to the kitchen for me. Kind of him.
Spent a lot of cash this time! Mushrooms for pickling later on. Jamaica patties, a lamb and a beef one. Pork Pie, no-butter butter, Cornish Pasties, tomatoes, cream cake treats, and some horrendously pricey garden peas from Nigeria. I love these! Marmite Rice cakes, cheesy-topped rolls, a bag of sea salt & cider crisps and Marmite crisps.
A bottle of mulled wine. Reduced to clear after Christmas. A large bottle, cans of Sainsbury’s cider, and a bottle of washing-up liquid.

I took this snap of myself inside the main junk room, looking through the balcony doors and blowing my nose. Then took the photo below as the day slowly dawned, and turned brighter.
I sorted the waste bags to make room near the doorway; no carer had taken them. So, I took them to the chute and found an empty box there, just like Christopher had taken away from the flat yesterday. I put the three bags down the chute and broke the box up, which also went in. I hobbled back to the flat foyer, and as I did, it gave way to me, and I walked into the foyer door frame. I believe I said, “Well, fancy that!”

Carer Chloe arrived as I was about to put the food away after the photography session. She gave me medications, and I was lucky—yes! Although I didn’t realise it, and Chloe didn’t notice it, I’d dropped a tablet while taking them. Chloe said she was doing the Domestic visit and would be back later. I walked her to the door. When I got back in, and at long last on the computer, I espied a tablet I’d dropped on the carpet. And a good job, too; it was a beta-blocker! Not one to miss.

It was a mental battle trying to sort out what was what and what needed doing with having yesterday’s to do yet.

Chloe returned to do the domestic run. I started to place an order for next week from Asda, but again, it would not let me get on the site. Grrr!

I struggled to communicate with Chloe, yet I always seemed to be waffling and losing track. Then, my beloved Nurse Hristina arrived while Chloe was hoovering the hallway for me. What a triple blessing it was that she came! When I told her about the farce of running out of night catheters and buying them, she found the number to ring, then called them for me on her mobile, too! ♥
I’d mentioned to her earlier that the cotton wool-looking material came through the tube from the bladder and got stuck, causing the uncomfortable flow back sensation. Hristina told whoever she was talking to, and they told her that it would be a bladder infection and that they would send a nurse to see me when they got back from the New Year Break and ordered the catheters straight away, wanting to know why the Carers had not contacted her. Hristina then showed me how to open the night bag to drain it! Worth her weight in gold she is! The most patient and understanding nurse I’ve ever known. 💛 She helped me today more than anyone else has in weeks. Hristina left, leaving a respectful and appreciative Inchy.

Carer Sam did the middle call. We laughed about things I was going through, which helped me cope.

Carer Joanne 💛, on her way home, called to see me. She collected the not machine-washable laundry. I insisted she pick up a bottle of her choice as a New Year’s treat. (I did the same with each Carer today) She said that her elderly neighbour had gone to the hospital, so she was late in collecting the washing. I can tell you that a woman who takes, hand washes, and returns my nightwear and brings it back for me is yet another angel I’ve acquired. My sort of gal, too.

I managed about five minutes on the blog, and the landline chimed up. The call was from Sister Jane. Not heard from her for a while. All the best for the new year sort of thing. But had a good chat. Jane & Pete are going to the pantomime shortly. She was sorting the food, and Pete the booze. Hehehe!
The natter brought up memories to share between us, all good or neutral ones, though. Nowt unnice!

I tried to get some more done on the blog. The landline chirruped again. It was from the Doctor’s surgery receptionist. She advised me of this morning’s blood test result (Gawd, that was quick).
Apparently, the INR level plummeted from 3.2 to 2.6, which is not good. The medication doses were also increased. I wrote the details on Google Calendar.

Then, back to have another go at this blog.
Life seems like an awful slog!
I waited for my brain to defog,
Then I had an in-the-bog!
I emptied the pouch, cleaned and flushed the WC, and turned to leave. As I went through the door, I accidentally shoulder-charged the door frame. Apart from triggering Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, I let slip a few vulgar words that I shall not repeat here.

I returned to the computer again and finished about 15 minutes of work. The door chime chimed out! En route to the door, this time, Cartilage Carole gave way. I opened the door, and to my delight, the postman was working late and delivering my eBay-bought nocturnal catheters! We had a chinwag, as we both have catheters, but he has the latest ones, which look so painless to wear; I was jealous when he told me the other week about it. He is being sent supplies that have built up, and he has too many! Another twitch of jealousy crept in; Hahaha! He kindly told me that if I was ever running so low again, I was to put a note on the door, ‘Barry, I’m short on night catheters’. He even checked on my catheter to ensure the tubing was the same size. What a kind, thoughtful gentleman he is!
I gathered the items needed to make the pickled mushrooms. got the mushroom in the slow cooker, on a high heat,
Hope it works okay.

Going to take a photo of the evening sky, this time it was who went on me. Most unfortunately, I clunked down onto the left knee with a sickening thud, and once again, I gave a clouting . The Catheter Day pouch took a good hit but surprisingly did not split open. Even more amazingly, as I was about to get back into the main junk room and the recliner to get back up again, I grabbed the sink side and got up; painfully, but I got up! Within a minute of getting down 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, to recover from the fall and Phorpain gell certain areas, knees, back and where I could reach of the shoulder.

And the doorbell sounded its version of ‘Oh, Susana’. It was a Community Nurse. She’s come in response to Nurse Hristina’s telephone call to look at my wedding tackle area regarding the cause of the bladder infections. I went into a deep seizure while we were talking. I thought she had Phorpain gelled my back and for me. I’m unsure what else occurred, but I was deeply out of it. But she seemed happy enough when she left, as I was returning to near normality. Well, that may be pushing it! Ah, she did give me a painkiller, I think… waylay that, now I’m writing this, I’m not so sure… something in my warped mind tells me she did. But, in the malaise of my muddled mind.

I sat still and quiet for a while. Then got back on the computer…
Carer Chris arrived. No socks were taken off, and I was going to stay up to try to take some fireworks photos. He was given medications. I treated him to his bottle and cream cakes early, as he said he was not doing the late call. But no one made the late call. Well, it is nearly New Year’s Day.

It is now 5 minutes to midnight. I will hobble into the kitchen, camera around my neck, and await the hour.

It is now 0015hrs and the New Year!
Photographs have been taken of the fireworks.
Now, to see if I can get them on the computer.
When I opened the window, the gusty winds blew in the just-starting rain! I’ve had to disrobe myself of the now wet bobcap and dressing gown! Humph! Hope the camera is okay!

Here Are NYD Firework Photos Taken

Art Decko?

Electric Art?

A bit of both?

Well, what can I say?

.
I was getting wetter!

Ah, well, I did my best!

Ah, better get the mushrooms into the pickle jar. I would have a pastie, peas and chips for my morning meal. But I’m too worn out to bother now.

What a busy day again.
I thought I retired 15 years ago?

0330hrs: Drained beyond belief.
But hunger took a grip. Cooking is not easy when one is mentally and physically drained. Sometimes, one burns one’s vegetable pate, as seen below. Hehe!
But I ate it all!

I went to get the pots and dishes washed. My eyes were almost closing as I did this. Then, as I had the light on and looked out of the window, I thought a final photo was called for to try and get a reflection shot of the kitchen, still seeing the relentless rain and me. But of course, you can’t photo wind. Hehe!
I dragged myself into the junk room and deposited my tired, weary body and brain in the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner.

As no late Carer had arrived, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. Then, I ate a pot of jelly, put the TV on to catch the news, and planned to move into the hospital bed. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen.
I’d nodded off into bliss within seconds of the TV adverts starting. Woke up with a jump later, turned off the TV, cleaned up raspberry jelly from my bulbous mountainous belly, and rejoined Sweet Morpheus.
Where I stayed until 06:15hrs.
Not a long kip, but it was much needed.
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Despite the continuing Whoopsiedangleplops, Mishaps and Accifauxas of the last four days, today had some lovely touching moments that were well appreciated.
The amazing Nurse Hristinas helping above and beyond.
The kind postman’s offer over the night catheter bags.
The community nurse called to check on me.
Again, I won’t mention the many failings, irritations, and annoyances I suffered.
I’m sick of hearing myself moan!
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Hope you have a better year! (Not Starmer) TTFN.

Useless Inchy: Monday 30th December 2024

31/12/2024 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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I just had to copy this one!
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It’s so important to hang on to hope,
I thought of this today when I awoke,
Without him, life is all upslope,
You should keep him on a tightrope,
Have you ever caught a single raindrop?
Shouted for help from the rooftop?
Lost your thoughts while taking a troke?
Caught flu, COVID, shingles or croup?
Did you have a heart op or a cystoscope?
Been shot, imprisoned or had amblyope?
Are you deaf, neurotic or have deuteranope?
A catheter fitted? Had an oesophagoscope?
Your feet & ankles turned a deep heliotrope?
Is it different every single time you poop?
Does Peripheral Neuropathy make you quoke?
If something goes right, do you glope?
Do you stutter or make the odd malaprop?
Do all others consider you a fruitloop?
To counter these things, you need hope,
You must attain it, try mentally to evoke,
Hope? I’ve never met the bloke!
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A cold health alert has been issued for the East Midlands, warning them that an upcoming cold spell could affect vulnerable people and cause a rise in pensioner deaths.
No doubt Pensioner-killer Starmer will be tickle-pink
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It seems I’ll have to get used to every night’s sleep being broken, and the abysmal lack of rest and peace will undoubtedly see me off earlier than I expected visiting St Peter. What with our beloved PM, who robbed me of my Cold Weather Allowance? And the caregivers forgot to put my diabetic socks on again. Brrr!
Still, it’ll unquestionably please the living-ready reckoner beyond the reach of any moderator, who’s a hot shot at jiggling truth and data... I mean, of course, the conspiratorial, surreptitious, duplicitous Herr Heil Starmer! Sorry about that, I got a smidgeon carried away there.

I began the battle to get out of the bed. Back-Pain-Brenda and Cartilages Chloe & Carole were unhappy being forced to move at 0500hrs. I noticed there was not much in the Ncturnal night pouch this morning. At first, I was most satisfied to see the bright colour, but when I got around to emptying it, I realised that it was one of the new ones that eBay had delivered last night. These were much cheaper than the others available but did not have a release valve. Also, the PVC, or plastic bag, was much thinner, and the urine was much darker as I cut the bag. Can’t win’em all!

I got into the kitchenette to check things; no taps had been left on, and no doors or windows were left open. I avoided going into a .
The sky was fog and mist-free! That’s because the snow and ice will be brewing from Storm Darrach, bringing Red Warnings for Wind and Snow. Apparently, the lowest temperature recorded in Nottingham was −13.3 °C (8.1 °F) on 13 January 1987 and 23 January 1963. That’ll cheer up amphibologically-trained murderer Starmer. I can see it now; “200 Nottingham pensioners died in last night’s storm.” Herr backhander-taking Starmer was told, he replied, “So?”

I am so frustrated and angry!
After being free of them for so long, I’d worked on this blog for nine hours off and on when the Seizures started.
I was so close to finishing it when they came. I felt things were getting more manageable and more transparent, and I expected to find some errors as I seemed to have been doing it for hours while under the influence. After coming around, what I saw made me so irate and self-condemnatory! I am still stewing inside and not in a suitable mode or mood to do much! I am feeling frustrated and depressed! I could almost cry now, my temper had calmed down. Hello, it’s returning with a vengeance…
I scrolled to see what cock-ups I’d made…
And somehow or other, I found I’d published the blog.
But even worse, I must have put it in the WP bin!
Then I discovered that over 2 thirds of the work I’d done was no longer on the editor when I retrieved it.
All those hours of concentration amidst seizures – Gone!
It’s late and dark now. But I shall try to put some more on, but there’s no heart in it. All that work! Of course, to save space in my memory, I deleted some photographs saving space.
My self-anger is building up again as I type.
The sky is red, and I had to force myself to get up to take a photo; that’s not me, this isn’t me.
Have I died? and am having a final nightmare? All that stuff I’d done. Some witty, some sarcastic. But it was all a little entertaining, I thought. There were many insults about Starmer – but not now. I’m even nervous to try again. Thoroughly depressed beforehand. Knowing it could happen again if the seizures or shakes return. I’m heartbroken, I think.
I’m going to have to think about this. What to do?

Well, I’ve ‘thunk’.
I’ll not have time to reproduce the same quality as the old blog. I’ll probably never again produce one with the same wit and hilarity as the original. This makes it so much harder to cope with; it was a rare cracking blog. And I was so happy with it.
What the hell went wrong? I’ll not even try to get it as good… well, I can’t now in this mood, and there’s no time to try anyway. Depression is far too weak a word for how I feel at this precise moment in time. I’ll use my few notes and photos, but as I said, there is no heart in it after what I call the ‘Sodding-seizure-to-blame’ disaster. It’ll likely all be out of sync chronologically. I can’t remember the whats, whens and whys now – And I’m not all that bothered either. It could be messy.
I’ll do my bestest, but it’ll not be good.

Starting the second try…
Waste bags sorted.

Carer Richard, Carer Chloe. The last two were Carer Promise.

First emptying of the day catheter.
Bloody and nearly 8500ml worth!

Fogless day.

Mug of 99 tea.

Cobblers.
I just looked on CorelDraw, and I think a few original photos were on the page—I’m sure they were—but not a Bloody one!
What the hell had I been doing?

Say no more…

No record to use for two more hours.

The night shots I had to force myself to take.

Carer Promise came. In a rush, but he did listen to my moaning about myself and the computer cock-ups. Thanks, Promise.

Worries about what I wrote on the first blog…
It took me such a long time to select the wording, but I have no time now, so this will be, in short – a shame. I even smiled at the original moans when I wrote it.

Current concerns;
Getting the hearing aids mended.
I have to book an appointment. The Caregiver said they don’t, so it’s up to me to do it. So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone and get an appointment…
Then I have to ring Easy-Link to book a lift to and from the audio centre… So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone
If they can’t fit me in…
I have to call the audio centre to cancel the appointment and get another one made. That would be great if I could miraculously hear whoever was on the phone.
Then, I’ll have to call Easy-Link again to see if they can get it for me that day—if I can miraculously hear them on the phone. Huh!
It’s a Circus – round & round I go… getting anywhere? No!
Six weeks now, I’ve still not got my hearing aids mended!

Another problem is that the nocturnal catheter pouches are not arriving. Richard told me I had to phone the District nurses.
If I can miraculously hear them on the phone.
An unexpected box arrived last week. Thanks to Dementia Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I thought the box contained the night bags.
I got down to the last night’s pouch.
Ended up spending a small fortune getting some pouches from eBay and Amazon. Luckily, Amazon arrived on Monday; eBay should arrive on Tuesday. The ones I have now do not have any release valve on them, but they were two-thirds the cost of the EBay ones.
Carer Kara used to manage all these things for me; she was a blessing, not in disguise.
I had written three more problems, I think, on the first blog, but I can’t remember what they were at the moment.

Nosh!
Despite my low spirits, I countered them by telling myself that whatever lousy luck I suffered, I must deserve it. I should accept these Accifauxpa & Whoopsiedangleplops without all my childish moaning and groaning, self-castigating episodes.
What you give is often what you get – despite not knowing precisely what it is, I must be guilty of it with my luck. Did you know I did the lottery for a couple of years, my neighbour, Jock, won 18 times in 1978. I never won a sausage. So, the sins I committed must have occurred before then.
I lost the plot again there, sorry.
I still enjoyed this mini feast.

Last of the sunset!

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Fings Ain’t Wot Vey Used To Be! Hehe!

Fiddlededee Inchy: Sunday 29th December 2024

30/12/2024 / Inchie / 9 Comments

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INCHY’S SPORTING FAILURES
Football for Oil Drum Lane Athletic,
They soon discovered I was pathetic…
I’d like to have tried something aquabatic,
But if I go near water, I panic,
Whist; for my partners, this was tragic!
They threw me out, but I was apologetic,
Weight lifting? 1st session, I looked cadaveric!
Angling Club had no wins, but I was the bus comic,
Darts, I played better, avoiding the gin & tonic,
Mt teammates christened me ‘The Dipshit’!
At that, I found I was even more chronic!
Now, at squash, I was doing well, almost dynamic,
Of course, I didn’t win any games, dammit!
Archery, not strong enough or ergonomic…
Parachuting, I did one; it was too frenetic!
Bungee Jumping, I did one, and it was fantastic!
Second go, that was something of a classic,
I ended up in the hospital when the platform split,
Gave me a skrik, it left me spasmatic,
On a machine, I think it was electrotherapeutic,
On to my time being sportingly pugilistic,
I may have been nervous, but I went ballistic…
I was too small. That was my sitch…
The first punch I took, I was kayoed out of it!
The reasons above for this ode reading are so threnodic!
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Yet again, it was a night of broken sleep. A little different, though, this time. The usual trend lately is for me to wake with a jump or jerk, as if someone had prodded me awake. Most of Saturday night’s last night’s disturbances were almost calm and serene. But there were far more of them this time. I was having the odd mini-seizure now and then, most times after waking. Working out the time was surprisingly difficult… did you ask why? Then I’ll tell yers. I first went into the land of bliss as I was watching TV, and… unbeknownst to me, I moved into the hospital bed. When I decided to get up, I wondered what the heck was happening. (Thinking that I was in the recliner) I looked at the clock and saw the wall about 4 inches from my nose! Hehehe!
I tried to stand up to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch off. For a few moments, I was baffled by the situation. As I turned and hit my head on the anti-fall bar, I realised where I was and could not find the clock.

Extracting my flabby body from the bed went great! Because both Cartilage Chloe and Carole were painless. Arthur Itis’s stiffness was letting me know about it. Once I sat on the side of the bed, I checked the clock; it was 05:10hrs. I got the bag off of the catheter. There was not much urine in it, and it was of a top-rating colour on the card.

I wanted a mug of tea, so I went into the kitchen, checked taps, etc. and took two photos of the morning view, and it was fogless for the first time in three days.
So, the pictures looked semi-decent compared to the foggy ones taken over the last few days. I decided the next job would be to get the done.

I utilised the Porcelain Throne first… well, I meant to. But Constipation Conrad prevented any motions from starting.
I realised I’d not got the tackle needed. So I fetched the bath towel and Kagoule, Kaftan, Thobe, Longshirt, or whatever you call it, from the hallway. Returned to the wet room, and showered, and shaved.
Apart from a little difficulty getting the fresh Protection Pants on, all went so well that I thought it might be a last treat from the almighty before the Grim Reaper arrives. Haha!
Also, it took only 1 hour 30 minutes from start to finish!

!
All fresh, clean, and in a good mood, given how well the ablutions had gone, I went to the kitchen to make the mug of Glengettie that I’d failed to make earlier. I got the kettle on again… The innards warned me to get back to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So, I did… I cannot believe how things changed so much. At the first sitting, nothing would move, and as seen, I blamed Constipation Conrad.
But it was a performance this time. I have never been so close to a voluntary evacuation before without it happening!
So I think I had a bit of luck there, really.

I got the tea made and reset the retro 1970s-style clock calendar. Then I got on the computer. Ten minutes later, I fumbled back as fast as possible to get to the Porcelain Throne again! Yet again, apart from Starmer, someone must have been watching over me. Because it was as close a job to things escaping as it was on the second visit! Phew! Can this good fortune last? Is it a trick by the devil to make me relax and get caught out on the next visit? I expect to have a few more yet. The innards started slowly churning again no sooner than when I sat back down on the computer. I’ll avoid starting to feel optimistic about the situation. My belief that things will finally turn around, only for another adverse event to happen, reinforces the idea that my bad luck is persistent. Well, it is! Tsk!

Carer Kimberly arrived; I’ve not started on any blog work yet. I forgot to ask her to put my diabetic socks on for me. What a turd I am! Sometimes, the Carers remember, but not today. Not that I blame them. Just wish I could remember to ask.

When Kimberly left, I thought about what to have for nosh tonight. I had a look at the food available in the kitchen, fridge, cupboards and freezer
I put some spuds into the slow cooker. Then, what did I do after seeing the morning view getting more blue? I took a photo; in fact, I took two. I’ll blow this second one up.
Can you tell what the things in the sky are? None in the first shot, just the close-up one? Thanks!
Of course, it could be some gunk on the lens? I’ll see what the next one looks like.
I’ll have some Golonkowa later on the meal. I love pork knuckle. This Polish can of it usually have plenty of pork jelly included. Very nice! I’ve got the memory of the taste coming back now.
I was tempted to nibble at the LU Cookies, my new favourite biscuit nowadays. If I open the packet, I may be tempted to eat a few, spoiling the dinner later. So, I resisted the temptation. It’s easy when you are as determined as I am to do the right thing. Alright, I only ate
two of them! .

The blog work is getting slower and slower and becoming more mistake-ridden. I am determined to get it together and to concentrate. Then Carer Selina arrived. I’ve not seen her for weeks. She has been off for a while with a broken foot! I forgot to ask her to put the socks on again. We were having a little natter… I went into what (Selina thinks were two) mid-conversation.This time, it seemed I just looked like I’d fallen asleep, but I was muttering. I can recall nothing of it while I was out of it. Then, according to Selina, I started carrying on from our conversation… after a few words, I drifted off again. I think it was good that someone had seen it as it happened. But she said it frit her a bit.

After she left, blurred my vision, and I had to give up on the blog. I’m unsure if it was in the report, as I couldn’t read the writing. Not that anyone reads them.

I think I took this photo earlier in the day. But midst the seizures, I managed to miss it off then. I do that a lot, you know… miss things off.
These I took when I went to the fifth mug of tea of the day. I did manage to drink one of them… I think I did. I’m all over the place mentally now.
Ah, I just saw the circle I put on this one on the left. Same snap as the one on the right above. I’ve blown it up. I’m hoping that someone can determine what it is. Well, I know not what it is. Is it a bird? Is it an alien? Is it an Angel? Or is another freebie donation being delivered to Starmer as a backhander?
A Day of Mysteries, Today.

Ah, well, I’ll get summat to eat then.
Golonkowa, pickled beetroot & water chestnuts, cheesy no-butter, buttered bread rolls, and some tasteless potatoes that need the sauce to flavour them. The biggest disappointment? The crap, bland, going soft tomatoes!
But I ate it all… bar some of the spuds.

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Have a Fantastic Day!
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Debtee Inchy: Saturday 28th December 2024

29/12/2024 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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I met a lassie in Aberdeenshire,
She offered me a cuppa, & romance with tincture,
She was married but delightfully, an advoutrer,
We blended into one sort of amalgamator,
We mangled certain limbs in particular…
We ended up boozier and bouncier,
I hope to see her again later…
I found Aberdeenshire to be boshter!
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Yet another horrible night’s sleep. Forever waking up with jerk or jump, and this wrangled me last night.
At 0440 hrs, I most unwillingly climbed onto the side of the hospital bed and removed the Nocturnal Night Pouch. I had given the urine a too-low rating, so I must change that on the NHS card later; Carer Chris said it was a six. I keep forgetting to change it.

I gathered the waste bin bags into one and left it near the door to take to the rubbish bin later.
Went to the kitchenette to check the tops, taps, stove, and doors.
On that short little hobble, Dizzy Dennis nearly caught me out; luckily, I’d got with me and avoided going over.

I arrived in the kitchen, I performed the safety checks. Nothing was out of place, left open, or running.
The fog outside still looked thick. But maybe a little less than yesterday’s did. I thought that his shot had an eerie aspect to it. I made a brew of 99 tea and got the computer booted up. I seemed to be doing well this morning. Only Dizzy Dennis, Cartilage Chloe, and Arthur Itis have been any bother up to now. Then, a summons ensued from my innards, warning me to urgently attend the Porcelain Throne.
A splurty, messy, smelly, and gooey dollop of excrement splodged into the ceramics. It took a while for me to get cleaned up. I mean for both the WC and me. Hehe!

I went to empty the urine from the day catheter pouch, and for the love of me, I could not get it to flow out. The thinnest, slowest, barely a trickle did flow. I tried to encourage things along. Jiggled and juggled the day bag, pulled it up, twisted it around the leg, and then lowered it… which brought on Dizzy Dennis again, and I had to give it a rest for a minute or so. I tried squeezing the transfer tube, twisting the plastic bag, and even praying, but to no avail.

I was on the computer. Something was playing up again with the text writing, and I was unsure what I’d done on Friday to prevent it from acting up again. After I pondered what I could do to correct the situation, Carer Maryham arrived.

I told her about the wee-wee being so reluctant. “Drink more water!” So I did. I also mentioned that I had only two nocturnal catheter pouches left. I didn’t think anyone would be working on a Saturday. Maryhan helped me find the telephone number for City Care on the computer, Bless Her! I was in a bit of a panic now, but I realised I’d got the days mixed up. IF… I can get through, and IF I can hear the voice on the other end on Monday, the situation may be saved… (or not); thanks, Maryham! ♥ She rushed off, taking the waste bags with her, so kind.

I kept on the computer and taking the water, but it was still a trickle at best. I went through the same procedures as before, and it didn’t get any slower, but the flow did not increase.

Drinking and blogging away, and a text message came on my super-modern mobile Nokia phone. A message told me my food order would arrive today within two hours. That will be the food order I’d just told Maryham was due next Tuesday… I assume. Erm?

CorelDraw was playing up now! About an hour later, during which I got nothing achieved on the blog, the intercom chimed in. I was the food order arriving. The driver placed them in the mini-hallway for me, I thanked him, and he asked if I was over 21. I said I’ve not ordered any alcohol, only soft drinks and water? We both laughed, which was nice! Four bags worth. I carried them one by one into the kitchenette. I seem to have treated myself to more fish balls, fishcakes and fish fingers, too! Oh, and a bag of potato croquettes. I got the frozen put away first. Once again, I had to take the fish balls out of both boxes and jiggle with the food in the freezer to get them in.
It also took a bit of planning to get things in the fridge—not that I had a lot of stuff. I can’t recall ordering some of the items, but I did no fear dying from hunger.
That must be heartbreaking news for Pensioner killer Sir Keir Rodney Starmer. Rodney, as Del used to say… “You Plonker Rodney!” In the fictitious Trotter family.
Har-har-har!

Afternoon Carer Joanne came, and she was very welcome. I showed her the photo of the last pouch emptying. Can you see the fluff-looking clump that came out after I rejiggled the bag and tube again? I expected the flow to be freer on the next emptying, but no! The flow is still about the width of the darning-needle-eye… at best! I have to bend to encourage it, which merely invites the attention of and has joined in the assault! Joanne is having trouble with her catheter, so we have that in common and things were not going right for either of us.
We shared a chunter. Hahaha!

I was not getting on well with the blog. After Joanne departed, I sulked a little and returned to the computer. I found some of the same types of
They were expensive but had no drainage pipe fitted and were half the price of the others. I ordered some, but they will not arrive before Tuesday, so I’ll not be able to wait until then. All the more important thing is to get in touch with City Care – Option Three on Monday. There may not be a blog on Monday cause I shall keep on trying to get through, and if they say you are the 19th customer in the queue, I’ll stay online and wait. Although knowing my luck, I’ll fall asleep or have a seizure and not recall what I was ringing for! I feel a depression coming on!

I had another go at the blogging. And the landline chirped! It was a lady from the Social Services. The line was terrible. This reminded me that the hearing aids still need sorting out, repaired, and mended. And how do I get a lift there and back? Anyway, she asked if I had time for a Q&A session. I hadn’t really got the time. But this rare, almost unheard-of opportunity to tell someone my problems could not be missed. It was hard work, and the lady shouted some questions after I’d asked her to repeat herself a few times. I mentioned the problems with the ablutions, the hearing aids getting repaired, shopping, the bank, etc. Of course, when she rang off, I thought of so many other things I struggle to get done, but it’s too late now.

She kindly said she would ring me back to update me on any plans made or altered. ♥

I got some potatoes in the slow cooker. Hopefully, I can have it later with cheese. But we’ll see, it’s getting late now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the crushed cream cakes delivered earlier. Most dissapointing. It looked like finger marks on the icing and cream. The cream had left the bread altogether. Maybe not so bad. I’m going to chew them up anyway. Hehe!

Gotten Himmel!
I went into the kitchen to see how the potatoes were coming along, and the fog was gone—there was just a light mist in the air! So, I took a left, centre and right shots of the view. The Carer may arrive soon. I’ll now go and get the oven warming up and try to get the cheese into the flesh of the potatoes. I’ve not had any of these for months now. Lack of injuries permitting, of course. Or seizures, tumbles, falls, walking into things… take your pick.

Chris made his last call around 0920hrs. The lad was rushing to go home, and he looked all in. However, he kept his chirpiness up and made sure Chris took the diabetic socks off, and he attached the next-to-last nocturnal catheter pouch we had. Gave the cream cake treats, and off he poddled. A nice lad.

Nosh started. Cheesy potatoes, fish balls, and garden peas.
Nothing else was needed!
This was the first proper cheesy potato dish I’ve made since the old oven conked out. I used the new mini-cooker, which was great because it was on top of the old cooker. I could check the crisping colouring at eye level as it cooked to ensure it was spot-on. I so enjoyed this one. It was worth all the time, bother and cleaning up afterwards! Great!
The cod balls I did in the air-fryer. I’ve not yet mastered this air fryer. But I’m slowly getting better.
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Puddled Inchy: Thursday 26th December 2024

27/12/2024 / Inchie / 7 Comments

STARMERS FUTURE
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On the humorous side…
I’m not in control nowadays, just a minimum,
Vascular Diabetic Doreen is tinkling with my cerebrum,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids controlling my bleeding bum,
Bleeding from cracked teeth, lips and gum,
Seizures leave me lost and numb,
Uneducated… what’s a quasi-isomorphism?
Between me then and now lies an impassable chasm,
I’ve lost my freedom, thus enthusiasm
But I’m still moderately skilled in sarcasm,
I was fully committed to activism…
I could do it now on a good day, but they’re seldom,
I’m still well-known for my altruism,
Gone are my days of professionalism…
Doing my ablutions? Best described as gruesome,
I fought and beat off alcoholism!
But struggle to free myself from fatalism,
Dictatorship, Communism or Capitalism?
All addicted to despotism and materialism,
Oligarchal, favouritism, federalism, feudalism,
Earthlings will never adopt pacifism…
I view hope for this earth with scepticism,
Why do I bother? I must be dumb,
No wonder I’m feeling so glum,
Will St Peter do humankind’s postmortem?
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0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. I felt much better than I did on yesterday’s rebirth into the torture of another day in my Nottingham-located Cell 72… no, flat, flat 72! My balance seemed much better, too!
I pondered on what the day may hold for me. It was a scary moment as my confidentless mind mused merrily over various possibilities and what mode of Accidauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
I got my slippers on (painfully) and meandered to the kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge.
I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
Which expletive should I use? To reveal exactly how I felt at that moment. Disappointment, self-loathing, frustration, irritation, disquietude, perturbation, self-condemnation, self-commination, blameworthiness or guilt?
I suppose any one or all of them. I chuntered away, swearing silently, lambasting myself. My spirits took another dip when I found that most of the frozen food was no longer frozen, and a puddle had poured out onto the kitchen floor that I had not noticed and had walked all over the kitchen floor.

Mopping up while using a walking stick is not one of the most straightforward jobs. But I cheerfully spent over an hour whistling and singing as I mopped it up.

A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.

Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.

Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!

After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated.
But no! Another reversal in controller this time. Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further!
I got the crossword book to help kill the waiting time but couldn’t resolve any clues. A while later, the monster moved. Gawd, it was a whopper! It must have taken a full minute to complete its escape. Massive it was! There was a tiny bit of bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I cleaned up and medicated. Naturally, the mug of tea had gone cold again.

So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.

I did the morning BP test earlier, which produced the following results. SYS 151 DIA 70 Pulse 72, Temp 34.8 Level: HYPER
I did the evening check earlier than usual. SYS 144 DIA 68 Pulse 74, Temp 34.7 Level: Normal High, better!

I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
No trapped fingers this time!

Carer Sham called. I hadn’t seen her for months, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be here (which was natural). But I managed to make her smile once. She was treated as all Carers were at Christmas. She left smilingly anyway.

What An Amazing Session This Was!
Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one!
Then, I did the teggies and nasal spraying.
Before moving on to the joy of a good shower, I had to remove the muslin day catheter bag cover from the pouch and leg. 2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
No Dizzies with the bending down, 3 no knocking anything off the floor cabinet, 4 no bruises or cuts. 5 No tearing of the mesh. 6 or accidents with the release valve. Brilliant!
Fair enough, I did tug at the tube stuck in Little Inchie, which caused me some pain… But 7, no bleeding!
I even adjusted the top two straps without causing any pain or harm. 8. Then, turn the shower power on in the hallway and collect the towel from the slow heater.
Turned the shower on. Got underneath the showerhead and carbolic soaped my blubbery-bellied body and ultra-thin bony legs and arms for ages. I wallowed in the shower.
I really enjoyed it!.
Showering was complete, so I set about drying off. First, the catheter contraption. I do that as advised using paper towels, I can’t remember why, but they told me to.
Then, my muscular young torso and bicep-ridden arms and legs.

I won’t bore you with the whole routine. If I did, I might not live long enough to finish it! Hehehe!
The first task was getting the Catheter Contraption back on.
This did not go as easily as taking it off in the first place or anywhere but according to plan. Getting a muslin cover on caused a tear or two while trying to thread the tube and bag through it. . I ended up with , and the
newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled . I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
The other medications went alright. Even stopping the bleeding and ointmentating Little Inchies fungal lesion went okay. Painful, but okay!

1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!

Pigs in blankets, frozen and oven-cooked for 40 minutes. The paper-thin bacon evaporated from the sausage.

They’d left me alone for a time; I’d forgotten about them.

FURRY TWO OF THE WEEK

Dougs furry, Andy.
He’d just got back from the veterinarian.
He’s doing alright. Medication continues.
A characterful cat.
We all love him on WP.

I was weary, closed the computer that I was initially going to go back on, and fell asleep (bliss!) in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue-collecting recliner.
I awoke with Carer Chris’s face in mine and a big smile on his mush, telling me he thought I’d snuffed it. Laughter from both parties. Hehehe!
I tried to stay awake to watch the football on TV, but I fell asleep and woke up in time to catch the ending credits of the film that followed the football. Grrr!
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Croaking Inchy: Wednesday 25th December 2024

26/12/202426/12/2024 / Inchie / 8 Comments

Not Starmer, naturally!

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I’m not having any Christmas fare,
I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair,
Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger
It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger,
I feel I’m no longer a belonger…
I was happier when I was boozier,
I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier…
Living life like a boondoggler,
A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger,
Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater,
Mild now, worse as I get older…
Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter,
I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma,
Never wanted excess money or grandeur,
Others notice as you get gimpier,
You may suffer from graphomania,
Ending up a grammaticaster,
I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter,
Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier,
No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter,
Concentration and memory will falter,
You become an easy target for any finagler…
Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter,
My turn to become a contradicter…
It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania,
When it comes to life’s final closure…
Things will be revealed by your claviger…
Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever,
Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever,
To return to earth, you must be a groveller,
And bare-face liar, like Starmer!
And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer!
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Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one!
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The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday. Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)

I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!

My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think.
Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two.

As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time.
I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!

Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.

I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN!
,
It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻

I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door. I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha!
I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.

Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity!
The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night.
I’m sorry I mentioned it now.

When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer.

Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.

I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo.
It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime!
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I’d better get my Christmas meal started.
Not as good as the criminals’ meal,
But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!

Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course.
It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast.
Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!

Carer Victor did the last call.

I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sayonara

Inchie Today

Old, sick, weary, but harmless. I need to make others smile!

The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

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