Inchy: Thursday 9th January 2025

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The fleetingness of life, so often a worry…
Well, it was years ago, death? Not in a hurry,
But existence now is endured abrasively,
Manipulated by the rich, the Oligarchy,
No race is safe, Peruvian, Welsh or Aussie,
One thing humankind perfected is bigotry,
Another is war, killing mercilessly…
Wars, for some, show profitability,
The greed, hatred, jealousy and irony,
Rulers lead, aloof, so conceitedly,
Faith, hope, love entwined with devilry,
Gone is eloquency, cometh exorbitancy,
Some exist thanks to eleemosynary,
Others believe in & practice diablery,
Some will see their end euphorically!
A few accept it, but sycophantishly,
I greet it as being somnipathy…
Death, commonsense, but with speciosity,
I’ve not lived brainlessly, injudiciously,
I’d had my moments of irresponsibility,
Albeit, at times, a smidge unintelligently,
My brain once worked reliably…
Doreen Dementia turned it into sciosophy,
Now it works partly-theoretically,
I can no longer have sex or even pee…
Do you think I’m searching for sympathy?
Of this, I may well be found guilty!
I am available as a Grandfather adoptee,
I make a grand mug of Glengettie tea!

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SISTER JANE & INCHY
1952ish
SISTER JANE & INCHY2018ish

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I woke around 04:00hrs. I lay there in the hospital bed, doing my darndest to get back to sleep. Refusing to get up and face the world, I was determined to nod off again.

Unfortunately, came on strong. I spent until 05:45hrs in misery, feeling incapable, lost, and guilty, self-hatred, confident-shattering thoughts bought up in response to TST’s ever-nagging, fault-finding, insulting torrent of bad memories. 05:50:hrs, I gave up trying to sleep.

After removing the nocturnal catheter pouch, I saw this one was a 7 on the NHS Urinometer Scale. Got myself up on my feet, the usual complaints from and . And were the worst of the ailments initially.

I grabbed it and set off for the wet room, I needed the Throne. Fearing another session with pain was imminent after the rock-hard torpedo evacuation yesterday. I gritted my teeth as I sat on the plastic seat… This was unexpected; the Karki mush splattered everywhere and was finished within a few seconds. This was so quick I anticipated a second helping would follow shortly.
I removed the thick Protection Pants from Amazon, only to find I’d made a mess all over the mats and floor. The inner padding had split open again! What a mess! I cleaned the splashed-over WC basin but could not vacuum over the mats and floor as it was too early. I hate the thought that I might disturb my neighbours. Got some fresh PPs on. Now, I must remember to clean the room later – I logged in with the brain to record this message. Which was hopeful, if not futile. Of course, I didn’t remember! (As of 23:10hrs)

After washing up after the session, the hands looked much improved compared to Wednesday’s. Carer Sam thinks it must be something I used for cleaning.

I went to the kitchen to check the taps, cooker, fridge, and freezer doors. All were okay this morning. Then, I took three photos of the morning sky. The first one, I think, was blurry as I didn’t expect it to be so cold out there. The outside thermometer read -3°c. The second of roughly the same view came out better. Then I noticed two planets in the sky, the left one bigger than the right one… or was it the other way around. I’m confused cause I could not see them in the photos taken.
I did my best to get a closer shot of the planets. I think Tim Price said they would have been Venus & Pluto. Not a reasonable effort or result. Mayhap I rushed this one cause I was getting cold. Hehe!

I changed into a thicker, warmer dressing gown and changed the day, date and time on my super new Korean 1969-made calendar clock. 

Carer Sam arrived. We had a little laugh and nattering session. Then, we sorted out my medications and put on my diabetic socks. All are recorded in the log.

I took this photo of the bottom field below the tree copse, barren of people and dogs. A rarity indeed! The temperature had gone up to -2°c. I checked on the pickled mushroom and water chestnuts in the fridge. I think they need a day or two longer, and I added a bit of basil to the jar.

Carer Same returned. Tablets only this time. I took an extra effervescent paracetomal and Codiene 30g. Because had been joined and assisted in giving me pain by . Who was back on form with her chest wandering stabs of pain. I would have to be the two top pain-givers at the same time. Minutes after writing these words, started tugging, 
‘Well, fancy said’, I said.
I dug out some Cortesteroid cream, girded my loins, and rubbed in the bream. I may have cursed a smidgeon and nearly spat. Something like ‘Oh, bother it!”

I caught sight of the state of the leading junk room. This needs urgent rectification. Tidying up, sorting out. This reminded me of the wetroom that needs some attention cleaning-wise as well. I’ve not done any of them as yet. But at least I’ve made plans to do them! Ahem!

The sun is coming out now.
But it doesn’t seem to be melting the rooftops yet.
I’ll look at the temperature… it shows as 0.1°c.

I got the blog for Wednesday updated and posted. I started on CorelDraw to set up the photos taken this morning.
For some reason, whatever that is, CorelDraw is really going mega-slow. I ran CCleaner, hoping things would improve. I did the same via Norton straight afterwards. These runs cost me over an hour to get done. Coreldraw is still slow, but I think it is not as slow as initially. Then again, what do I know.

I started on this blog a long time ago. But it was slow-going, and later, I showed the pictures of the fire on Wednesday’s blog to Carer Christopher when he arrived. I found six grammar or spelling errors that I’d missed. I corrected them somewhat belatedly. Maybe I should just cut it down to a Cartoon, the BP, and a daily ode? But I love waffling and doing this diary.  

,  and 
, all three, which had eased off a little, all returned with a vengeance. I lost another hour or so, so concentrating on the blog was impossible. I pottered about in the kitchen doing nothing much but convinced myself I was.

17:35hrs: Carer Christopher arrived on the next-to-last call of the day. 
He sorted the medications. I showed him the photos of the fire and found all the mistakes I’d made in Wednesday’s blog that needed correcting. Brungleclogs! Incredibly, the lad gets calls from Nigeria every time he calls. How the World has changed.
I recall having to find a telephone box, ensuring I had three pennies to use. Press button A, and if the call did not get through or answered, press button B to get my 3d back. Stack of telephone number books in there. The posters were adorned with sex-workers numbers, among others. That distinctive smell was present in all telephone boxes.

Ah, memories! 

I must press on with this blog. Excuse me while I do.
An hour has passed, and I feel overdrained and somewhat hungry. Tired & kicked in again! Sob! 

Battered Fish Balls…
With Marmite cheese, pickled beetroot, cheese-topped bread rolls with no-butter butter, & slices of tomatoes.
Followed by a cream lime dessert.
And very tasty, it was too!
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Take Care & Keep Safe!
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Inchys Horrendous Wednesday 8th January 2025

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A STAB AT STARMER?
He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral!
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After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised.
When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.

I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on.
Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe!
I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the .
So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony!
Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! 
Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers.

They were becoming a bit itchy, too.
As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.

No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead.
The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.

It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. 
Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!

I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.

Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;

First sighting as I put the kettle on.
Is it a fire or not…
No Fire Brigade response yet.
Still no brigade.
Is it looking worse?
No response.
It’s dying down a bit, I think.

Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.

I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99.
And blow me, the fire was smoking again.
I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there.
I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!

I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website.
Very regrettably, I clicked the link… 

ARGH!
I WAS HACKED!
The computer went to full screen and froze!

The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.

Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’

They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now!
Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! 
As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again!
Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?

I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.

Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.

It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did!
Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with.
I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). 
They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone.   
Then, they went above and beyond…
They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that.
Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. 
The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. 
I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back! 

It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.

It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!

It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before.
Maybe never any.

I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.

A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her.
Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.

Good Morning…
Late Carer came.

TTFN

Inchy: Tuesday 7th January 2025

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I may be depressed & flat bound,
Perhaps I ought to be in a compound,
Doreen Dementia gives me the runaround,
And how little do you get for a pound?
Starmer is seeking self-wealth,
Rather like a bloodhound,
Me? I’d like some good health,
There’s more I’d like to expound,
I feel like I’m disallowed & disavowed,
Forcefully repudiated, denied, disowned,
Life used to be a playground,
Now, it’s a survival-free battleground,
Oligarchs & criminals seem to abound,
Animals like Starmer got empowered…
I need 2 hours to get shaved & showered!
My hopes are flattered & floundered,
I get worn out after I’ve hoovered,
I’m mentally & physically encumbered,
Rotting teeth, angina, bald-headed…
My common sense long ago defected, 
Violence and wars cannot be reined,
What’s more, I can’t get my TV started?
Starmer should be helped, assisted…
He should be airfreighted…
Go to Rwanda and get bayonetted!
Not fatally, just a painfully bloodied…
Come back and be treated by the NHS!

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ANOTHER BUST DAY 
It’d be about 0550hrs when I blossomed cheerfully, gaily, bursting into song, leapt out of bed, did a few hundred press-ups in the freezing balcony, and waved at the seagulls. I’d turned back into the fun-loving, delicate, humorous, beguiling young man I am.
Oh, alright then, I didn’t.

0550hrs: woke me up, and I passed a mammoth blast of wind from my rear-end and detached the from the day bag. I did a pretend imitation job of tidying the bed and took the BP readings. It was a Normal-High reading this morning. Yesterday, I had a ‘Hyper’ result. But that’s not so unusual. I often get one or two a week, and it usually bounces down again.

I grabbed , and went in the kitchen. What a fantastic hue the morning view offered me. I was, to me, more green than black of blue. The clouds seemed larger this time.

The intercom sounded as I was about to get the kettle on the boil. I realised then that I had an Asda order coming today. And so it was. I gingerly gathered the boxes and carriers I used to put the food into at delivery.
 I opened the door, and the driver seemed agreeable to putting the things in boxes and bags for me; bless him. As I took a carrier to put down the hallway… ailment number nine gave way. I tumbled to my right side, catching my nose against the corner of the wall. I don’t know how he did it, but the driver was through the door and prevented me from falling in a flash. A Hero! I’ve tried to get to the Asda site four times to offer my appreciation. All failed!

I got the food & cleaning things put away. Taking a couple of photos as I went along. The first one on the right shows fresh cream strawberry jam French Horns. Naughty, but so nice! 
The second snap shows potato cakes, cheesy potato balls, green tomato and onion pickled, and water chestnuts. I will try to home-pickle the chestnuts and some of the mushrooms tomorrow. I also got a can of lip balm for my cracked lip, saving the day again later. I like a Mystery, Hehehe! I stored the cleaners away and decided not to have a mug of tea but to get my ablutions done. I got the needed clothing and poddled off to the wet room. No Throne yet! 
I started with the fingernails, then got the shaving done. As far as I could tell, I was breaking a record here; a second morning of a cutless shave… I thought!
As I started the body wash, I felt the blood running down my lips and mouth. I looked in the shaving mirror, and a thin, tiny trickle of the red stuff flowed from my nostrils!
It seemed the leak point was slightly up inside my nose. Now, I could not even get the razor up there. It never poured but came persistently for one and a half hours.
Getting dressed and doing the body parts medicationings was interrupted by me having to keep dabbing at the blood. 
I wondered if I had done it when taking the tumble on the corner of the wall. I’ll never know. Hahaha! Better to go into a and claim a victory in getting no shaving cuts for two days! I moved into Level Two. Hehe!
Finished the medicating and got the PPs & clothing on, not without some bother and a little pain.

Finally, I got onto the computer. Only to find that my memory and concentration had gone to pot when I started writing on the day’s ode. This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. Carer Chloe arrived as the nose began bleeding again, not that it mattered at all; I wasn’t getting anywhere with it anyway. 
Humph & Granknangles!

Carer Chloe was concerned about my bleeding nose. She looked closely at it and asked if I had Vaseline to put on it. Then I remembered the Vaseline lip balm that had been delivered this morning. I got it from the drawer and put some on my nose and lips. The blood flow did decrease. Clever gal, Chloe! ♥ Chloe departed, saying she was coming back on a domestic call. I thanked her and bade her well.

I’m not doing well with my Ode here, so I went on CorelDraw to catch up on the photos. I was struggling. At one time, I thought the near tumble might have been caused by a reaction. Concentrating was so hard, and I guess the ode would not come out so well this time.

I’m assuming that came over me. Or, it’s possible I fell asleep… No, no, that’s impossible, come think of it. Because when I came back, a fair bit had been done on this blog. Enough for it to have taken me a couple of hours to get done. Teo hours had evaporated, and it took ages to do the amending and correcting the bloopers & mistakes made. I had a break and glass of lemonade, emptied the day pouch, and took two photos from the blooming cold balcony. The mudslide in the far car park was a lot smaller now. 
And one of the sky to the West and Wales. The clouds colouring rather impressed me.
Chloe returned. Then I realised that the nose had stopped running altogether, thanks to Chloe.
We decided what needed doing flatwork-wise, and she made a start. I think I kept talking to her, but what about is not available to Doreen Dementias’s memory now. Ah, I’ll check on the memory notepad. No, nothing was readable, and not much was on the pad. Tsk! 

After Chloe had gone, they started again, but they were all really short, as far as I can tell. Offputting but copable within the safety of being indoors.

I tried out the microwave roast potato bag for the first time. I just put in one bag… no, one potato. Mind you, I also only put it in one bag. I think I nearly lost the plot, theme and my sanity there! Hurrmph! 

I was working hard on this blog. I’m using this work too often, but I am struggling. I was going at it while the seizures were taking a break and suddenly noticed that the sunset was about to disappear, so I got the Kodak.

Beautiful!
I was awestruck.
What lovely nature…
Did my best, and for once, they came decent.

Carer Chris arrived. Medications were given.
We had a chat, he had a drink & nibble. Haha!

An hour or so later. I decided to try out the oven potato bag for the microwave. Oh, dear, the writing on the bag made me nervous, well, reading it did. I’ve copied it here:
WARNING

CONTENTS AND BAG MAY BE HOT – USE CAUTION
READ INSTRUCTION GUIDE CAREFULLY BEFORE USE.
IMPROPER USE MAY RESULT IN FIRE-MICROWAVE ONLY

DO NOT use in conventional oven.
DO NOT Microwave for more than 3 minutes at a time.
DO NOT heat on high
DO NOT do not use in microwave xithout food
DO NOT do not expose to naked flame
DO NOT leave microwave unattended during use
DO NOT do not place Potato Expressâ„¢ near a hot surface
DO NOT do not cook oily or fried foods
Use only normal-sized potatoes!

I was scared stiff to use it!
Photo during cooking.
I PUT ONE LARGE POTATO IN.
What is a normal-sized potato?
Cooked it for 4 minutes – rock hard.
Gave it another 4-minutes. hard
Then, another minute.
Then, another minute.
And it still wasn’t ready.
I gave up and had a bag of crisps!
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WHAT A VIEW!
I stayed looking at this scene for a few minutes. I was so engrossed just viewing it, I didn’t realise I was getting rained on. You just have to see the funny side. Hahaha!
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Going to phone the Doctor in the morning about these seizures. I told her the first time they appeared, and I was more or less told that many people with FND and PN have them. 
I felt guilty taking up her time.

NOSH
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TTFNski, all the bestest!
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Inchy: Monday 6th January 2025

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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… t
he 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.


– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Cheery Byes!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 5th January 2025

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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!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

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
!

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

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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,
– – – – – – – – – –
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: â’ˆI threw the rice away. â’‰The date was when the UK Covid-19 vaccinations started. â’ŠThe four numbers of the year add up to 6, one being a nought. â’‹Three numbers are the same. â’ŒThese 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

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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

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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

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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? pillockAll 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

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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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