Toe-Stubbing Thomas – Page 6

Incontinent Inchy: Monday 15th July 2024

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04:25hrs: I begrudgingly heaved and hauled my overweight, blubbery body from the bed. I even thought of getting back in it as Cartilages Carole & Chloe kicked off the moment I put my colossal weight on the knees.
I bent to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. The bag was a little fuller this morning, considering I’d only been in bed for about four hours. Yesterday’s not being a happy laddie lingering into today. There I was, sitting on the Throne, having a go at the crossword puzzle book, just seeing if I get some answers to the many not-finished ones over the months. I
counted the cracks I could see on the ceiling. It amazes me how I seem to get a different number each time. And I suppose. 23 today. The first long, deep brown torpedo escaped painfully, followed immediately by splatterings from . The end loose evacuated product was once again of a Kharki hue, small and wet but lumpy. Well, it made a change for me. Haha!
The were tackled next. Starting with the hurtful, bleeding-again teggies. Then, the extremities needed cleaning in preparation for the medicationings. These were done before the shaving this morning. Another first for me is that I’ve always done the shaving first, but not today. I’ve no idea why. One good thing about having the diabetic socks and the compression bandaging on both legs is that I can’t clean them, so one job is saved. Also, I do not need to medicate the leg ulcers or ingrowing toenails.
Were Germoloided once things had dried from the washing of the bottie. I found that I’d run out of the anti-fungal cream for Little Inchies cream. So I tried some Germolene to see if that eased it a bit.
It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things any worse, either.
I got the Derma cream under the arms, man breasts and forehead, which was silly because I’d not done the shaving yet. Tsk!
Then moved on and gave a good rubbing in of the Phorpain gel to both knees. To ease the pain from , and . Next, I got the olive oiling done down both earholes. Had a bit of an then. I dropped the dropper bottle and lost even more time cleaning the mess I made up. But worse, all the bending to retrieve the olive oil from the mat and floor, set the Cartilage gals, Arthur Itis and off. I then performed a short but natty, nasty version of a , which made me wobble and joined the list of injuries. And I hadn’t even tackled the dangerous parts of shaving and getting dressed yet!
Still, being of excellent pain tolerance, a twerp, and so brave with it, it didn’t worry in the least, not one bit! But I assume you already knew that?
Then , the costly Cataract Blepharitis application process had to be done. The spray is no bother, but the drops I just can’t hold my hands steady enough to get it in right. Doing the pads is okay. Then, I waited for the regulation for 5 minutes and wiped it all off again from the eyelids. I would estimate the cost of liquid I missed the eye with that ran down into my mouth and onto my testicles from my chin, not to mention poor Little Inchie; it must have been about £10 worth every day I do this.
Now, the shaving needs to be done. I wondered how long I’d already spent doing the ablutions. I reckon I was already over two hours and still had to shave and dress.
The shaving was cutless! Yes! But getting the PPs on more than made up for my good luck with the shaving.
With either knee being liable to give way, my left leg is so painful to lift up.
Always a risk and or possibility.
On routine, I set about the tried, tested, but often failing ‘get-the-pants’. I wedged my rear end against the sink, with at hand, and of course,
the small Plastic Pickerupper Paul. I was gobsmacked at how easily I got my right foot in the pants. Might not be so bad, I thought to myself… What a plonker!
I all but went over when I first tried to lift the left leg up high enough to get the foot in the pants. On about my third attempt, I was getting frustrated, to say the least. Not necessarily because I couldn’t get the foot in; this is a regular problem, but with the pain I was going through trying to!
I tried one last time and was prepared that the pants would stay off if this did not work! Which, of course, is not on if Little Inchies fungal Lesion bleeds, as it often does, hence the PPs in the first place; it could be bloody and embarrassing if a Carer or nurse was here when it flowed down my legs, over the catheter bag and pouch, onto my foot and then the carpet!
There’s no other word for this; Lifting the leg with one hand holding the sink and the other with a picker-upperer and the walking stick was bloody painful! One final effort, a grimace, a few curses and both legs were in!
I was shattered! Aching all over. I felt like I’d been up for hours; in reality, it was about three hours of angst and pain, but at last, it was all over… until the morning, it’ll start over again!
Painkillers and some anti diarrhoea capsules were taken!
I actually chirped up a little later, Yes! Then again, I usually do if get on the computer, and even more so when the eyes are as clear as they can be, and I can see the keyboard and the letters. But at the back of my demented brain, I know that come midday, the double vision will return. (It did)

Carer Richard arrived minutes after I turned on the computer. I patiently waited for CorelDraw to load up —no, that’s another fib. Richard got the medications sorted out, but I forgot to ask him to take of the diabetic sock, so it will have to stay on until tonight when a Carer can take it off if I remember to ask him or her. I bet it reeks a bit!
I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bags into one. I left it near the door.
I returned to the computer and steadily progressed with the extra blog of old cartoons blog. Then, a sudden… well, fear came over me. Had I left the hot water tap running again? I hobbled hastily to check.
All was okay. After yesterday’s farcical, imbecilic three times of letting the tap run cold, my confidence was at a low ebb. I checked several times today, but up until now, I have not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. At least today, I got a wash and shave with hot water available. Despite spending nearly four hours in the wet room in agony, at least I got the cleaning and medicating done.
I had a mammoth, or maybe it was one of . Or perhaps I fell asleep on the computer? Up to now, I’ve only had two !

The sun did its best to get through today, but it couldn’t do it just like yesterday.
I took this shot through the kitchenette windows.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I never got around to making one earlier.
I took the brew to my beloved but poorly computer and digested some of my favourite biscuits via a good dunking. Haha!
I like Yeo Valley organic milk and have tried it a few times. As instructed by the Doctor, I’m keeping within her demands that I have only two mugs of tea a day.

Arrived. A nice young gal. Showed concern at my wobbly walking. I explained the ablution episode and showed her a photo of yesterday’s burnt meal and saucepan. She did laugh!
I found some potatoes in the only saucepan I had left. Humph! They were well seasoned with sea salt, pungent soy sauce and a drop of vinegar to eat later.

Great balls of fire!
The bag tore off of the catheter pouch; it was so full!!! It had filled up so quickly.
It’s a darned good job that Carer Kara keeps a supply in stock for me.

Now I’ll have to pack up on the blogging. My vision is getting much worse.
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Back to finish off in the morning – I hope!

I’m back…
Carer Chris arrived. Tucked into the nibbles and drinkies, but he was in a rush, poor lad.
He turned down the heat on the oven. And I watched part of one episode of the old Heartbeat on the resistance to making a link, unwanted and needed, overpriced Virgin Media fibre TV.

I had a pastie, potatoes, and sliced fresh tomatoes for my meal of the day.
Followed by a naughty but nice Lemon and cream Bliss.

I took this late shot while washing the pots and settled to get some sleep. It took me hours to nod off, yet my body and mind were worn out.

Tired? Me? YES!

TTFN each. 🤔
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Incoercible Inchy: Thursday 11th July 2024

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Possibly my most confusing day for weeks now.
In and out of control of things and happenings.
One late morning and Gawd knows how many more throughout the day.
I can’t recall being in such confusion for a long time.
I found out later that I’d placed an order for J Sainsbury. But it’s all a mystery to me. Looking at what I ordered really made me wonder how the hell, why, and when I made it.
I can’t help but occasionally worry about it and myself.

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It’s too dark yet again. It usually clears a bit later.

Taken while getting the Nocturnal Cather Pouch unattached. The white spot is the flash from Kodak Tim.

Made up a waste bag and hoovered around the main room. It’s that Inchy, you know, forever dropping crumbs, pens, torches, mobile phones (when he can find them), and anything else that is not attached to him is droppable, really.

Ablutions, medications & Porcelain Throne Visit(s)
I carried out another Whoopsiedangleplop after the first painful use of the Porcelain Throne – I forgot all about, or maybe I might have thought I’d done it, the shaving!
As with yesterday’s first attempt, the movement was showing no signs of any interest in escaping the depths of my heavily fabbed body and innards.
So, I got the crossword book out. Flipped it open and started on the random one. I also got a few answers; I got two more answers anyway. Then, the pain started, which again caught me by surprise. All the signs were that it was going to be a Trotsky effort. To take my mind off the pain, I counted the cracks on the wet room ceiling for a while. There were 27 cracks up there, I think. The pain suddenly reached a crescendo, and a tear came to my eyes; I gritted the few teeth I had left in my mouth, cringed and anticipated that a lot of blood would need cleaning up when it finally arrived. As it almost shot out, the pain eased, and the plump, plump… plumps were heard as the almost cube-shaped giant, Kharki-coloured Oxo cubes hit the water – to be followed by what I thought would have been the first things to exit… Whoosh, splatter, all done! I reckon it was controlled by 15% of Constipation Conrad; the rest was definitely a Trotsky Terence follow-through. This horrendous evacuation may have helped me forget I’d not shaved.
The medicationalisationing went tremendously well! Getting the PPs on was not so easy. With the assistance of the small pick-upper I keep in the wet room and sticking my butt in the corner near the door for support, I was pleased with how I got the right leg in the pants so comfortably.
I had to lift my left leg with my left arm to get it high enough to go into the leg hole of the pants, keeping the pick-upper in the same hand to pull at the pants to get my foot in. One second, I was struggling to keep my balance. The next second, I clumped down onto the floor on my knees. This upset, , , and in both knees, they let me know their discomfort in the usual fashion. Arrgh! didn’t seem too bothered by my tumble. This shows he’s healing up a bit.
Even crawling on all fours to the recliner to regain my feet was almost tolerable pain-wise. It took great effort to clamber up on the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. I stayed there for a minute or two. As I grabbed , I’d left in the wet room and rose gingerly from the chair. Carer Christopher arrived. He seemed in a light mood, bless him. He got the one diabetic sock on and medicated me fully.
I decided a brew of Thompson’s Punjana was in order. I limped, with surprisingly little pain, to the kitchenette. I took this Kodak Tim of the grim view on offer. I think the sun will struggle to get through today. As usual, my eyes were much better in the morning than in the afternoon. So I made a mug of tea and pressed on with yesterday’s blog while I could see well enough. By 10:30hrs, the double shadows started to kick in. Krunglebumps! But I did get the blog finished and posted.

FLAT FIRE ALARM: I forgot to mention in yesterday’s blog that the Fire Alarm went off. This was the first time it had activated since they installed the new, louder one, and I did not hear the old one when it was activated. I had a hobble around to check things in the other rooms, but all looked well. I imagine it must have been a test. Because no brigade or staff members had arrived to check things out. They may have changed the day of the tests. When I could get about, any changes used to be amended on the notice board in the foyer.

The new nightshirt was delivered. I got it hung up to get into later when I’d shaved. Carer Kara visited me. She opened yesterday’s mail, both letters were from the bank. Nowt to fret over, she said. She asked how I was feeling and checked the catheter bag. Kara kindly took the laundry bag down with her.

I returned to the wet room, determined not to have any more tumbles, to get the shave I forgot about earlier done. I had a Porcelain Throne Mark2 visit. No chinks this time, straight to the slushiness if a regular heavily Trotsky Terence commanded evacuation.
Well, at least I get diverse, multifaceted, distinct evacuations. Hehe!
Then, I tackled the shaving. There was just one tiny cut, nothing to bother about. It took me much longer than planned because I couldn’t find my spectacles after getting on the new nightshirt. (I found them later)

My eyes are fading now. I’ll make a meal while I can do it a little more safely before the eyes get worse.

It’s not a bad effort visually. But the beef and I found both bits of it between the grizzled and fat, was disappointing, as was the so-called gravy. So much for ready-made meals!
Thankfully, the potatoes that I baked to accompany it were superb. They were seasoned with black pepper and some of the adorable No-butter butter, but even this did not fill me.
So I backed up the sad-tasting but good-looking meal by delving into my favourite biscuit box! Vegan cookies and Lemon Tartlets. They were nice!

Carer Christopher arrived. He took off my one diabetic sock. Dealt out the medications, and then I asked him to take a photo of me in the new nightshirt.
Chris took a few snaps, this one on the right being a first in many ways.
① The first shot of me wearing the new nightshirt. ② The first picture I’ve ever looked at and expounded a loud exclamation; “Arghhh, look at the size of that belly!” ③ And most uniquely, this is the only time anyone has caught me having two of my shakes on camera simultaneously. Bearing in mind that they are rare and usually do not last for more than a minute makes this all the more remarkable. I ought to be in the medical Gazette! Hehe!

I can hardly recall the details of Carer Chris’s last call. He woke me up but was in no mood to be activated. As for her leader, she never stops her bemusing, irritating meddling with the synapses and memory cells. is to blame overall, I think. But I could be wrong, of course. Perhaps failing was involved in the brain invaders’ plot to send me into another world of confusion. For all I know… which is more guesses than estimates.

May Peace & Contentment surround you

TTFN.

Incidental Inchy: Wednesday 10th July 2024

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At 03:30 hrs, an electric shock woke me. I did notice as I lay there thinking of getting up, or at least the possibility of this, that the nocturnal catheter back had next to nothing in it. Then nodded off again. I stirred again back into mock-life around 05:00 hrs and was glad I did. The memory box had sent me a message that ‘we’ must get the ablutions done before anyone arrives. Not that I needed this thought prompt; the moment I whiffed my BO was enough to trigger me into frantic action.
I rolled off the bed, stood leaning on the bed bar, wobbling for a few seconds, and then carried out the catching-my-balance routine. Which took at least three minutes of strenuous exercise. Hehe!
I considered doing a few press-ups, toes and a bit of shadow boxing, but the protection pants had come down and were hanging on the compression bandaging, and that caused me to forget about the physical jerks. It was true about the pants, though. Tsk!
I got a dressing gown on, and the innards instructed me to go to the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. The evacuation was a half & half-style. It took a lot of effort to get anything moving. And not a little pain. I was convinced that Constipation Conrad was back in charge of the action. Thinking that this would take some time, I got the crossword book and started having a go at it. I was doing well, as well. Then came the rapid splurge of liquid evacuating; it was all over in seconds. Unfortunately, the mess it sprayed all over took me ages to clean up. There’s always summat goes wrong! And I’d only been up for 10 or thereabouts minutes! Then the morning ablutioning and medications were started.

I got the too-large PPs off and cleaned my lower regions first. Medicated poor old , and Germoloided the piles. Washed my torso; it’s not easy for me, you know! All that blubber around the middle and the getting gigantic man breasts, a hell of a painful job getting to things. Applied the barrier cream around my goolies, under my man breasts and armpits. Cleaned what few teeth I could find left in the mouth. And started shaving. Astoundingly… I thought I’d not have a single nick shaving. , but I should have known better than getting cocky. As I applied the Brut aftershave to my face and body and sprayed the gargantuan mass around my bones and belly, I caught my , knocking it over. I hit my head as I bent down on the sink and simultaneously stubbed my toe as I began to get up from lifting Mickey.
Of course, this didn’t bother me in the slightest.

I got on the computer and am new to this site. Carer Evelyn arrived. She issued the prescription medications, and Evelyn swapped the diabetic socks for me. I asked her to take the laundry down for me. Nice gal. But after she’d gone, the laundry bag was still there. Not to fret, she said she was doing the next call as well, as long as I remember to ask her again.

Onto yesterday’s blog catching-up. It was slow-going as the eyes began to play up with the double and treble visions again. It looks like the sun may come out later.

Carer Kara came to do the financials for me. She went through my emails and opened the letters I could not read. Things seemed okayish. She then kindly told me that the doctor’s surgery had rang her back about the problems with my eyes. I have to have my eyes tested first with an optician. Then, get a report on them from the surgery. Then, the doctor might refer me to the EENT for another operation on the Cataract and Glaucoma… or at least get me on the list for them. I waited 2 years for the last operation that didn’t work. My eyes are worse than they were before the procedure. Humph!
Kara then called an optician who does home calls. The lady she spoke to said the home eye test would cost me £90.
They will call Kara back after giving us a temporary date without a time of day for the visit and determining whether they can fill it. Kara put the date on the Google calendar for me. July 2nd. Carer Kara is as good as gold.
I’m not chuffed with it, but it has got to be done.

Carer Evelyn, the washing has still not been taken. At the bin bag, oh, Carer took that, I think.

But make a meal, I’m really not feeling good.
TTFN!
Morning, I’m back.
The Caregiver called but still did not know where to take my laundry; the bag remains awaiting collection. I was in the right state when she arrived, so tired and exhausted.
I sorted out and ate the meal and settled in to watch the England Euro game. I fell asleep and missed most of it. Huh!

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Food Rating: 9/10!

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Ode From Fellow Blogger & Poet Paul.

Down Nottingham, there’s an odist called Gerald.
Whose smithing of words keeps us levelled.
He’s housebound but not gagged.
By his words bad leaders are scragged.
All of these make him our prophet and herald.

Paul wrote this in a comment. Nice!
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TTFNski, each!

Inchoated Inchy: Tuesday 9th July 2024

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I wish I could have found a turn-off button to the brain today.
Because it was of little use to me. And as for talking to myself out loud and swearingly, it went on and on, with no solutions, ideas, or hopes being created. By the time it came to Wednesday morning, all I’d done on this blog was the top section of graphics! And didn’t start this paragraph until nine o’clock! So this one will be sparser than usual, sorry.
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Not a good start!

I never considered washing and shaving until I smelt my B.O. as I got my head down 14 hours later! I did visit the Porcelain Throne with the intention of doing the ablutions after the evacuation, but as I sat there emptying the liquid product from my innards, I realised that the nurse was coming today to redo the ankle ulcer bandaging. I thought, well, I’ll do it later… but ashamedly, it wasn’t done at all!

The morning rain rained down.
I did notice it didn’t rain up (Hehe!).

This is the second brew of the day, which should mean the last brew, as I’m restricted to only two mugs daily. I consumed it as I worked hard, confused about what I was doing and possibly making more errors than ever before.
On the bright side, was so kind to me. I don’t think I had more than ten shocks all day!

The precipitation persisted for a while longer.

The Community Nurse Arrives.
This always cheers me up!
She set about getting the swathes of bandaged off of the right leg for me. The punctured ulcer was looking and feeling much better this time. And no sooner had she let the air in; an irresistible urge to scratch at the wound tempted me so much to chafe at it. Hehe! So, I think it might be getting better now. We, well, I, spoke of the eye problems. The nurse said I should get the Caregiver to call the Doctor for me. Carer Kara did it yesterday, but I’m unsure if she did it in my state now. Maybe she did later when she arrived today? I’m getting confused. Well, I fancy that; I’m getting confused! Har-Har!

The rain was getting lighter.

I got a letter informing me that I will be made an appointment at the Highbury Hospital shortly, and they will let me know later by post. The photo above was taken on my last visit.

Only the odd droplet of rain falling now. I went on the balcony and took a Kodak Tim from the end car park, where the mud-slide was. Plenty of it, too.

Then, as the eyes faded, I gave up on the computer and prepared the day’s meal. I made some roast spuds in the oven and added them to the sweet and sour ready-made meal I cooked in the microwave.
I’m sorry I bothered with it, now! It tasted just plain overly sweet; what happened to the sour bit of the contents? I’ll not be bothering with one of these again, Mr Asda!

Went to do the washing up, , I again the server trolley wheel. To a certain degree, I swore, rather viciously, washed the things up and took this photograph from the kitchen window. I love it when a snap comes out okay.

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What for you is happiness?
Not being loveless?
What are your favourite meal appetisers?
Mini Steak & Blue Cheese Pizzas?
Maybe tasty Stuffed dates with Ricottas?
Or, like me, cheesy baked potatoes?
Whatever – I’d love you to find that bliss!

TTFNski, Each!

Incapacity Inchy: Friday 5th July 2024

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From here on, this blog will be sparse… very much so. For my eyesight and memory seemed to go off so much earlier today. Having less than 2 hours of sleep did not help. Finding no logical reason for this irked me a smidgeon. I slowly got a lot more tired earlier today. Then, the double vision started. Shame really. But the nurse came and rebandaged the leg and ankle. The wound on spouted out with a flourish of thick, deep red fluids when the nurse took off the sealing pad. She was not pleased with that. She noticed the bruise on my chin, and I explained my Non-Epilectic Seizure and told her how I could not recall going into the wetroom and did not even know I’d taken a tumble or if I’d passed out or not. I just came around mangled in the shower chair with a bleeding gum, broken tooth, sore chin and a headache. She said for me to ring my doctor and her. I’ve gone out of sync again.

I did not put the night pouch on last night, so heap-geep-coloured urine was in the nearly full-day day pouch.

My eyesight seemed pretty decent when I started writing the blog. But it faded quicker than usual.

Carer Maryham arrived, concerned about my looking so pale, and asked about the scar on my chin. I told her what had happened in my usual wit-interposed way. I got a good laugh back, which was my design. Hehehe! Maryham was concerned for me. Which was nice.

I watched a bit of TV for a while, including election results.

The trip to the wet room was a painful one. I thought yesterday’s was, but this was even worse.

!!!
The computer froze.

Then I got a message telling me things were being auto-mended. It was at it for two hours. I feared this was the end!

The District Nurse arrived. I was unhappy with the ulcer wound’s not healing at all. She also asked about the bruise on my chin, and I launched into a humorous explanation: ‘Ring your doctor!’

The computer was turned off because everything had frozen again. I was at a low ebb now.

Carer Kim came. We went through the same process, but I got a more significant response this time. Kim laughed so much.
‘Ring your doctor!’

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Amazing clouds as I made a brew of tea.
Then, the eyes finally got too bad, and I was about to pack up and restart in the morning, and Carer Chris came.
He medicated me and had to nip off. He was busy but looked so tired. Bless him.
I got some potatoes in the oven and then closed down the computer. Boy, was I tired!
For some reason, as I was cooking, my mind went back to Rationing. Many years ago, when I was on a fishing holiday with Bill, Malcolm and Jock, we had just arrived at Lockerbie in Scotland. I was backing the van into the car park, and Bill, a butcher, said out of the blue, “I wish they would bring rationing back; I made a fortune with all the fiddles…” It’s funny how I can recall this clearly, but I’d forgotten what I had planned earlier to have for my meal tonight. I think it was lamb burgers, but I found a short-dated vegan pie and had that.
I forgot to add the garden peas. The potatoes were grand, but the vegan pie was not so good, although the gravy was absolutely delicious!

Cleaned the pots and back to the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966 made. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. And spotted the scene outside of the sunset.
I thought I’d nip onto the balcony and take a Kodak Tim of it, which I did. Lens blotches included.

It was well past midnight before he let me into his world, a world that I was forced torn from by one of the longest-ever leg climbing I’ve had since they started three months or so ago. After which the ulcer emitted short, sharp, shocks, every ten-minutes it felt like, for the rest of the night.
had returned with a certain degree of nastiness and persistence.

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Have a good day, Tatty Bye!

Incandescent Inchy: Thursday 4th July 2024 Election Day, Expect a Massive Labour Victory

My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning.
I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit .

It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today.
Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.

Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.

I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!

Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.

Here are cloud photos taken over the day.

I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.

We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?

I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google.

PN vs. MS vs. FND

Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy – Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness.
People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others.
Please read this, Doctor, Please!
I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!

It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.

Morning: Catch up on this blog.
A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’
I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.

Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her!

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Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.

Farewell, Mon Ami!

Helpless Inchy: Monday 1st July 2024

I reluctantly returned to imitation life at 04:35hrs. Greeted, with warm welcomes, pains from the right ankle ulcer . was verging on agony.
I saw everything with a shadow around each object. This problem cleared within a few minutes. (Mind you, it returned mid-afternoon and stayed.) I had to stop blogging.
When the first need of the Porcelain Throne arrived, within the following half an hour, I was on my third visit! No doubt about it, the stinky, Karki-coloured stew. Yes, that’s a fair description. Haha!
By the time I finished creating July’s templates, it was well into the afternoon. There were fewer mistakes this time. Or should I say I didn’t spot so many mistakes? I’ve already found another one in this one and all those following. No Smug-Mode, then.

Phlebotomy Warfarin, Anticoagulation DVT nurse Hristina came to take a blood sample. Lovely to see her again. She said she thought a mistake had been made with me not being tested for so long. It’s been weeks since the last one! But the NHS struggles on. They may have killed off a few on the way, but that will only lighten their load. They did their best to add me to the list, but I filled them. As with the Catheter Contraption’s lack of change, not being allowed to try and pass urine, and failure to turn up by the Community Nurses to change the compression bandages on the ulcer and electric shock ankle… but I think they just like the idea of me being in pain, rather than actually wanting to kill me. Hahaha! I might be wrong, of course.
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I think I must have taken this last night?

Ah, a better colour!

Rubbish sorted.

Terence Returns – Eurgh!

Mid-morning.
Had to make the templates for this month. Nothing else was done for hours. Mistakes corrected… I hope.

I dared not have an afternoon ablutioning session, as I would not hear if the District Nurse arrived. So, I just had a quick shave and rinse, with the wetroom door open, which I turned and walked into on leaving. Arghhh,and Grobbleisations!

Spot of rain later.

I’ve gone from forcing the evacuations to stopping them.

The Morrison order arrived.
Not a big one.
Some good big bag of baking potatoes. Some Morrison pre-crushed white rolls.

I cannot recall ordering a pork pie or sausages. There’s nothing unusual in this, though.

3 for £10 pork slices.

Ah, the best thing of all. Some fresh pod peas. I weakness of mine, you know. Podding these usually end up with three pods emptied into the basin or saucepan and two into my mouth. Often in reverse order. Hehehe! But they are so tasty and irresistible.

Something else that I certainly cannot recall ordering.
A potato hash. I could blame Dementia Doreen, I suppose… but as she is part of my mangled mind, this means I can only blame myself, doesn’t it?

Kodak Tim’s evening view.
I hate those blotches! Grrr!

I made another of my almost guaranteed cock-ups. I took a picture of the evening meal. Well, it was the only meal. I think I did it without the SD card in! I’ll have to ask Carer Christopher if he can get in off of Kodak Time for me. He got the others off so quickly that I couldn’t follow how he did it! Or else, as deemed by Doreen Dementia, I’ve forgotten how to. So, I may or may not get this photo back. Haha!

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Fare Thee All Well!

Implicated Inchy: Sunday 16th June 20024

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Given way today – Cartilages Chloe left (3) & Cartilage Carole (1). Right Ankle Albert. Peripheral Pete (right side). And a new one for me… Following a particularly vicious bout of Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, it went into a mildly painful stiff mode for about an hour or so. As the day went on, my eyesight got worse and worse. I had to give up blogging. Still, I got to watch the football, but reading the subtitles was hard work. So, this is another late issue for my worldwide fan club. I hope that neither of them minds too much.

Another number 5 colour rating for the overnight pouch contents. For some unknown reason, there was not very much of it this time.
A kitchenette shot of the morning view. Yes, it was raining again. The horison was misty with it, at the same time. Blotchy spots, again.
A few hours later, the rain was beginning to die down as I snapped this photograph.
Gave myself a little toe-stubbing as well.
Our famous mud-slide at the end car park had spread well.
Talking of spread well, I adjusted my order for Tuesday from Asda, adding some Marmite Spread and the delicious No-Butter butter from Flora. Great on sarnies, especially tasty when mixed into the boiled or baked potatoes. Yummy!
As the late afternoon brightened up, I was pleased to report that an array of adorable clouds was on view. Pareidolia’s Delight. I could see a whale and various animal heads and faces. But not when taking the shots. But afterwards, blown up in CorelDraw.
ACCIFAUXPAS:
Getting the chips out of the oven. I burnt a finger again on the oven tray racking. But it’s worth mentioning, really, compared to the last time I did it, which must have been about two months ago now. I don’t think the scar will ever disappear from this one.
The third visit to the Porcelain Throne.
Another messy, Trotsky Terence in charge affair. The other two were similar.

Little Inchies fungal lesion had been leaking blood again. It had soaked the PPs, and I had to ease them off, pulling more hairs out with the dried blood. Then, I had to clean things up, medicate the lesion, and get fresh PPs on. That was more painful than treating the lesion! But only just.
This is interesting to me anyway because I can’t recall taking the photo at all, let alone why I snapped this view. What was in it? It’s a mystery.

While waiting for the chips to cook, I took two snaps of the pretty view from the kitchen window.
The blotches on the pictures are included, free of charge.
I thought these looked relatively peaceful and restful. I’m not sure why, though.

I agree that it is not precisely an imitation of the Gordon Ramsey-designed and made meal. In fact, it’s a commoner’s nosh: sausages, garden peas, chips, and sausage-sized rounds of Milk Toll loaf to be dipped in pickle-flavoured tomato ketchup. For afters, there is a Muller lemon dessert.
Not bad at all!

A final blotchy shot of the sky after I’d got it all on a tray. I went back to the TV to watch the England match. And that was a disappointment, but at least they won, only on points.

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TTFNski!

Inkle Inchy: Tuesday 4th June 2024

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Possibly, just perhaps, well, at least in the last week, this morning was the oddest one yet. For a variety of reasons, which I will no doubt get mixed up and out of order. But I’ll do my bestest to explain.
04:20hrs: First, I woke up with an unexplainable… well, Zest!
I found the nocturnal pouch of urine to be a lighter colour than of late. An urge for a mug of Glengettie came next, and off to the kitchen, I poddled to get the kettle on. Then, I took a snap with Kodak-Tim of the morning view and realised it was only 05:00 hrs. I decided to have an early wash and shave, being as I was feeling almost chirpy. (I knew it couldn’t last, so I made the best of it.)
Then I noticed that the kettle was not working. I toyed with the connections and plug for a while, but it did no good. It wouldn’t have it! But on top of the cupboard was a kettle I bought about a year ago. The problem was, how do I get it down from there? I ended up using the long picker-upperer carefully, but I got it done safely enough. However, the base plate was still up there and at the back near the wall. My desire for the tea drove me on.
After a little thought, I fetched the 3-step ladder from the junk room. I could only manage two steps, thanks to , in particular, the back of the knee emitting severe pains. But my determination to get a brew of Glengettie was strong!
I managed to reach the plate using the small picker-upperer. Finding that it and the kettle needed a good cleaning up before using it.
This is when the stubbing of the toe took place.
Undaunted, I got the dust of and out of everything and the kettle on the boil.
Moments after taking a photo of the Jenny donated china mug on the left, is when I knocked it off of the counter with the dressing gown sleeve. I caught hold of the mug as it bounced off of my overly abundant belly. Thus, spilling some tea on the gown, me and the floor!
My previously rare morning zest was flattening down now, and the idea of making another mug of tea did not appeal to me. I felt a brooding coming on.
I got all the waste bags sorted and placed them near the door.
Then I decided a darn good wash and shave was called for. So, I took off my dressing gown and wobbled along to the wet room. The wobbling was caused by the catheter fitted yesterday, which has a thick, massive, long tube. The release valve tap was so low down it rested on my foot! It was not easy to reach down to empty it, which was my first task as I got inside the wet room.
The favourite was again in full control of the evacuation. Cleaning up was a heck of a job, and it was difficult with the long catheter on and using the walking stick.
Still, I freshened things up and cleaned my teeth. The bleeding soon stopped. There was a funny incident that I realised about much later when I got around to uploading the photos. I dropped Kodak-Tim from the dressing gown pocket later, and while making sure nothing had broken, I took the selfie above, catching the image in that shaving mirror, Hahaha!
The shaving ended with a cut count of only two; oddly, one was on the ear lobe? Beats me too!
I get the body scrubbed up; it takes longer nowadays. What with the monumental girth I’ve acquired since I’ve become flat-bound, bending down is so difficult and painful. The Cartilage Girls & don’t help. I suppose on the bright side, if I ever tumble forward, I’ll have a chance of bouncing back up. Hehehe!
Then, I decided to mop the kitchen. I used the Flash speed mop for the job—a mistake that was!
It appeared to look okay afterwards until I walked into the place. The soles of the slippers stuck to the tiles, and I could hear and almost feel them squelching as I walked on the floor.
Now, my mood was almost reversed to what it was earlier. I noticed many bits of something very small still stuck on the floor, and a Carer mopped it last week. So, I had to get the mop and bucket brought into action. Gathering several leg bruises on the way from the walking stick as I mopped one-handed, then found somewhere to lean again, to bend painfully down to hand wring the mophead. I even got Kodak-Tim out a few times to record my progress. Now, I was worried about my sanity. But I was pretty happy with this second proper mopping job done.
As I went to clean and store the mop and bucket, I realised that I’d not done the morning medicationings for many regions of my story, plump, wobbly body. So I did.
I put on the Acne cream. Then, I applied barrier cream around the fungal lesion and barrier creamed the tops of the inner legs and the ever-growing stomach fold. Then, I Germoloided Harold’s Hemorrhoids. I put on a fresh dressing gown, made a fresh mix of spring water, put the old dressing gown in the laundry bag, and noticed the clock. It was 08:55 hrs.
I’d been so concentrated on and frustrated with the Whoopsies, cleaning, and farcical morning that I wondered if the Carer had been and if I’d forgotten about it. I checked the Carer’s log, and there was nothing on it for this morning. At least I didn’t have to worry about that.

Later, Carer Sam arrived. She listened to my tale of the morning’s woe; bless her. Finally, I made a belated start on finishing off yesterday’s blog. I was calming down nicely.

, sod-it! The Google and Firefox thingies went down at the same time on me!
I could do nothing for an hour.
I tried all the usual stuff, but the mouse was working, not the keyboard.
I kept getting messages coming up that meant nothing to me. I was near to dismay.
Then I got Norton Messages telling me a series of numbers were safe; no action was needed! Was Google healing itself?
I gave up and turned off the whole shebang.
I was sitting feeling sorry for myself when the intercom sounded. It was the delivery of Medical stuff from Vyne. Boy, did it take some sorting out?
Yes, it did. I had many things on my mind and worried about the computer, too.
I didn’t know what all the things were for, but indeed, they must be connected with, for, or part of the dreaded and disliked
.
They look awfully complicated to me. But, then again, so do women, Putin, arithmetic, Judges, the Conservative Party, and Doreen Dementia.
Ah, I recognised the painkiller jet thingies that the nurses shoot down Little Inchie when they have to put new tubes into him. Oh, they are good! Haha!

When I returned, I turned on the computer with my fingers crossed. Well, I never did. Google was working again. I was nearly too stressed and tired to appreciate it at first, but a semi-imitation joy crept through my brain all the same.

Carer Christopher arrived. I gave him a cold drink and a bar of chocolate. I chatted away, but he missed most of what I was saying as his fingers belted away on his mobile phone. Hehehe!

I pressed on with starting this blog. It is now past 21:00 hrs. What a day! Where did it go? I’ll read this and find out later.

A caregiver is due on the last day, anytime now. So, I think I’ll put the vegan slices in the oven. Well, I’ll put the stove on, and it’s ready to heat up.

I finally had the meal of the day and enjoyed it, although the incident with prepping the potatoes slightly tempered my enjoyment.

I’d got the instant mash into the bowl with some sea salt, basil and a large knob of No Butter, Butter. Then, I added a packet of grated Leicester Cheese to the mix. I added some freshly boiled water and was about to set it to give it all a good mixing. Then I noticed some mould on the bits of cheese!
I’d discarded the good-dated packet and kept the just-out-of-date packet of cheese! Luckily, the unopened packet was retrieved from the waste bin after I chucked the bowl contents into a bin and re-cleaned the bowl. I had to start the potato prepping all over again. Which meant the veg pasties were tastier. I thought the cheesy mashed potatoes were Pareidolianiable. Can you see the chick or rabbit on them? No? It must be me, then. Hahaha!

At last, a photo to be proud of was taken. The blotches were all hidden in the dark night clouds. Is it like the surface of the moon with a volcano erupting? I may ask the Tate Art Gallery if they’d take this one. If not, I can always display house bricks on a wooden palette, 2024 style. I could spill blood on them, break them up for them. I could call it Putin’s Pallette, perhaps? Haha!

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TTFN

Invalid Inchy: Monday 3rd June 2024

This Morning’s ‘State of the Face’

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Well, the diabetic socks were not removed last night, and the muggings here forgot to ask the Caregiver to do so. So, as I woke at 05:30 hrs, I realised that my planned mission of getting an early shave, sh+t, and shower was in tatters! For I could not get my socks off without help. But having climbed out of the hospital bed with a monumental effort, I decided to just leave the socks on until a Carer arrived and have a shave and old-fashioned wash at the sink straight away. This takes me back to over 70-odd years ago. When we had no hot water, we had to boil pans, kettles and saucepans on the stove and coal fire to have a wash. At least I have heating and hot water now. I checked after thinking this to make sure I’d not left the hot tap (faucet) running. No, all was okay!
I needed the Porcelain Throne first. It was another messy affair, too. I cleaned up the porcelain and finished the teggies.
A minor miracle when shaving this morning. Not a single cut or nick whatsoever!
I began the body washing, and there seemed to be more body than ever that needed doing? I pressed on, dried off, and then turned my attention to the medicationalisationing needed.
I started with the Olive oiling of both earholes. Moving on to the Germolening of the sore bottom’s extremities. Next, the delicate operation of completely drying the skin and applying the Germoloid ointment to h
Harold’s Hemorrhoids. Oh, this was so cool! Then, I got the Daktacort cream at the end of Little Inchie and his fungal lesion. Arrgh! Seems the most apt word to describe this. I spilt a drop of the cream on my hand, which was surprisingly painful. I seemed to have acquired some bruising overnight on the wrist? It didn’t look fresh, so maybe whatever happened occurred yesterday, and I’d not noticed it. Did the nasal spraying next.
The Medi Derma-S cream was applied to the forehead and right wrist, and it would have also been put on the ankles, but I can’t reach to do it. Over two hours after going into the wet room, I finally came out.
I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing this daily. I felt worn out already!

I made a good, strong mug of Glengettie tea. Oh, no! For a change, I had Thompson Punjana Gold. It’s pleasant enough but not as tasty and lip-smacking as the straight Thomson’s Punjana.
I think Carer Maryham and later Carer Sam visited. I decided not to put on the diabetic socks. Some form of imitation logic told me that with them on for 24 hours, it was too early. I’m not sure what I’m rambling on about here. I’m so tired.

Carer Chris did the teatime call while I was deep into creating the new features for the top of this blog. But I did stop when I went to make another brew, Glengettie this time, and the Pareidoliaising caught me as I took this photo below of the clouds. It’s been overcast more or less all day today. The Kodak Tim photo blotched actually gave the nearer smaller cloud the impression of having an eye in the head of the monster or giant bird?
A blotchy-indeed later Kodak-Tim shot pg the horison.
The closer shot below shows how light the ribbon of light was.

Carer arrived.

In response to the sudden gurgling innards, I managed without any problems to get to the Porcelain Throne in time, and promptly gave my right foot a good toe-stubbing on the high seat leg. Humph!
I went to the kitchenette to plan the meal of the day.
I noticed the eeriness of the houses on view and then fetched Kodak-Tim to try to capture them on film.
It was not one of my best-ever photography efforts. In fact, I was disappointed in how they came out. They looked far crisper in reality than they presented. Then again, with my eyesight, I shouldn’t complain, really, I suppose.
A pretend Beef & potato pie that was none-meat. Nice! I halved some tomatoes and cooked some oven chips.
Very nice and tasty all round. Then ate a pot of lemon yoghourt!

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TTFN.
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