– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – In Poor Ode, with bad spelling,
A Co-op greenfruit & fresh fish shop I was managing,
I locked up the shop on a Thursday, half-day closing,
At the traffic lights, my mobile started ringing,
Bulwell manager asked if I could spare sharkfin,
“Aye, I can, I’ll get back to the shop. When are yer coming?”
“I’m on my way now!” So I did some reversing,
Back to the store, with the burglar alarm activating…
Someone had kicked their way in,
The Bulwell man would soon be arriving…
This front door’s where they’ll be escaping,
The back door had an impenetrable cast-iron grating,
It dawned on me that’s where I was standing,
Stand or run ideas kept alternating…
I bent down to the letterbox to have a look in,
Two hefty guys from the safe were appropriating…
cash, into a bag they were hastily filling,
The police were slow in coming,
They beckoned me in, and I was shaking,
The tall one said Any more cash for the taking?
No, I just did the banking!
Ah, a police siren I was hearing,
They panicked a little; my nerves were rattling,
I moved to the front, hitting the storage racking,
And sent a 56lb bag of potatoes falling,
Hitting a perp, sending him tumbling…
Hitting his head, I thought he looked dead,
His mate went to him, as his head had bled…
The police burst in, they almost appauded…
Things were not as they appeared,
My part in the proceedings was acknowledged,
5’3” me, stood over burglars, one winded, one wounded,
The whole situation got distorted,
They mentioned my part in their being captured,
In court, when they were prosecuted,
Then they saw what the CCTV had recorded…
My false heroic pride, suddenly circumducted! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Slept in this morning, didn’t wake until 06:10hrs. Then got the grade five night pouch detached… No, no, I fib. I woke up for the first time around 03:00ish, and seemingly every five minutes after that, but just fell asleep again each time. Reluctant to rise for some reason.
Meandered into the kitchenette to get the kettle on. Pottered about for a good while, then paid a hopeful visit to the Porcelain Throne. Another half hour wasted, all that urging, pushing, & forcing came to nothing. I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can go without an evacuation. Before my innards explode?
The clouds were not colourful this morning. But by gum, they held a beauty that I could see. Likely thanks to .
Carer Elaz arrived and gave me the medications. He then helped me wash my feet in antiseptic disinfectant, dried them, and applied some of the new diabetic foam. He’s a good lad, but had to rush off to his next client. I no longer have a memory worth anything. When some of them ask, Is there anything else? I blank out, especially if the seizures are visiting, which makes things even worse.
I was struggling with my concentration suddenly, and departed. When I started to drink my mug of tea, the bloody seizures kicked off. No long ones yet, but God knows how many that I had. I’m sure I had two in the morning, but from then on, until Carer Nirma did the tea time one, it’s all a blank to me. All the signs were there of after effects. I hadn’t cleared my head by the time she arrived, and I had no idea if she’d noticed. She did, though, catch my sore throat through my croaky voice. At least I think she did. Anything from here on can and must be taken with a pinch of salt.
I vaguely recall taking these shots from the balcony. The first one was taken, and then the second one some time later. I think I was on WP typing in reply to Billum’s comment about the red car.
A break in the seizures was welcome. Things cleared up a lot, and I realised I’d let the catheter bag fill too much as I stood up. Oh, dearie me. The weight in the bag tugged on Little Inchys fungal Lesion.
Carer Mirza arrived and took off the socks when I requested it. I remembered! He also put the diabetic foam on the dry skin on my legs, and asked if I needed Peptac or Cough Medicine. Nice, lad.
The plan for tonight’s meal is: Garden peas. Ready-made cheesy mashed potatoes, warmed in the oven after adding a dollop of Leicester red cheese, salt & no-butter butter and mixing it all up together. Into the oven, and just before the tatties are fully crisped on the top, add the peas. Two cheesy-topped bread rolls, a side pot of sauce, and some brown tomatoes to round it off. How does that sound? Then I’ll add a Polish Farmhouse sausage.
I was pleased with the result. I ate all of it. (Gannet!)
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Where I was, I knew not, the place, it was aesthetically… pleasing, an Angel appeared, looking divinatory, But she didn’t look or speak, but seemed to ignore Inchie, I saw my surroundings dissipate, melting slowly… The cave was replaced by a garden, full of agrimony, A blue sky, with the sun shining brightly, People appeared, forming a shape, but gradually… They chatted and smiled with each other merrily, I realised that they were dancing, walking through me, Am I a ghost? Did I die? What a pity… My brain turned a blend of confusion and ambiguity, I let the dream continue, quite unconcernedly. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:00hrs; I woke in need of the . Another Trotsky Terence torrent evacuated. Cleaning up after it took an aeon. Removed and then emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. Yellow binned it. Tided up the catheter bag boxes underneath the Carer’s table. Then the windy rumble from my innards directed me to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a Constipation Conrad-controlled evacuation that wasn’t! The only thing that did escape was a variation of almost musical-sounding blasts of wind, from pianissimo (very soft) to fortissimo (thunderous), with a few extended bursts of adagio & largo. I wondered at the time if the lady living below might well have heard them. They ended with a series of weak little blubums as the session finished.
Ocado turned up with a delivery. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me, thanks mate, kind of yer. Brown tomatoes. Tasty cheesy cobs, mashed potatoes with mature cheddar (Even though I can’t recall ordering it). Also, the pot of Mushroom Pate was the highlight, featuring a mini-pot of Portabella mushroom flavourings in the veg stews and mushroom ketchup for when I’m short on actual mushrooms to use.
I must tell you that an inkling and occasional burst came from who kept visiting me this morning. And very welcome he was.
They pestered me when I started working on the blog. Naturally, Horis faded as he took control of my emotions. After resolving the initial Windows issue, CorelDraw malfunctioned, preventing me from accessing specific options. The only way to fix this infuriating CorelDraw glitch was to save everything, turn off the program, wait ten minutes, and then reopen it. Today, I had to do this three times! After yesterday’s absence, I guess Horis was trying to make a comeback. Despite everything that went wrong, he would eventually fight his way back into my psyche. Great! Made an afternoon mug of the new Typhoo – ‘one cup’ Extra Strong tea. Well pleased I was too. In a big mug, you still need to use two. Naturally, my favourite tasty teas, these being Glengettie and Co-op 99, remain, but these Typhoo ones are now my third favourite.
I went on the balcony to take these three cloud shots through an open window. To the left. Straight ahead. To the right.
Then I lost the plot. I sorted the old spectacles to see which ones could still be used and relabeled those that I could find a container for. Laid them out in order of age, some estimated. One pair in this picture of them on the bed was from 1988. I had to dish a few, but had no problem with this. But I did make a . I forgot to put new labels onto the glass boxes. Humph!
I pressed on with the blogging.
The retired nurse 🤎 came to check me out. Said my bottom was not as good as on her visit last week, and reminded me not to miss the barrier creaming every morning and night. (The last few days have been so busy, I haven’t had time to wash and shave, let alone do the self-medicating! Tsk!) The right leg had two new leakages starting. The nurse applied two smaller, ready-filled plasters to tackle the problem. . After treating it, she said If it doesn’t dry up, I’ll have to call the Community nurses to inform them, and get help. This is important. Bless her!
Two late shots
. Got the spuds out of the slow cooker, dried them off, and cut them in half lengthwise. Put them in an oven tray, flesh side up, and dollop some shredded Red Leicestershire cheese on each one.
Got them in the oven to crisp them up.
Took another night snap.
I wrapped up the computer, not in wrapping paper, and saved everything before shutting it down.
A Copernicus Sausage was added to the cheesy half-potatoes, and two cheese-topped cobs were well Marmited, and eating began!
A lemon fool for afters!
Last two photos of the day. Thought I’d missed the sunsetting. But the cloud broke and the sun popped through.
TODAY – MARVELLOUS! Can I get this result again? FINGERS CROSSED.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
What invention can you recall that is now Zeerust?
The Sinclair C5 was, I think, the wackiest, I can’t recall seeing one of these at all, I did try it, I had a ball! Another one that I never knew! Oh, a two-seater, too!
One of the technological oddities of the 1980s is making a comeback of sorts. The nephew of Sir Clive Sinclair – the man responsible for the famous, but flawed Sinclair C5 – is marketing an updated version of the diminutive electric vehicle called the Iris eTrike. The new street-legal, one-person hybrid electric/pedal-powered tricycle is billed as faster and safer than its 1980s predecessor and sports a Plexiglas canopy, so it can be used in all weathers. Dogressing here: Incidentally, I loved the Sinclair ZX computer to bits! This new Iris eTrike, in its 250W EAPC (Electrically Assisted Pedal Cycle) version, is legally considered a bicycle in the UK and can be ridden by those 14 years old and above on roads and cycle paths wherever bicycles are permitted. It does not require registration, tax, insurance, or a driving license. The rider is not required to wear a helmet. I hope it doesn’t catch on like eScooters, apparently, since their introduction in 2019 to July 2025, there’s been 69 (including 25 children, & 18 pensioners) reported deaths involving escooters. Additionally, there were 628 casualties admitted to hospitals with serious injuries between 2020 and June 2024. A significant number of e-scooter injuries are not reported to the police.
Back to the Ode, I got research impulses then, sorry.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
As a nipper, I fancied being a flautist,
Not that I was musical, I was tuneless,
In the cadets, we were learning about flamethrowers,
The TSM’s daughter, Iris, came in; legs and breasts? Corkers!
I got the urge for passion and frivolities,
I spoke with her, no time for faintheartedness,
She was in the church band, I started flaunting…
After our first meeting, we started courting,
Thick thighs, passion-filled, but not daunting…
How long would it be before I was attempting…
To get close, have a grope and into her knickers?
That night I tried my goddamnedest…
I worked, I was transported to heavenliness,
We melded together; there was no hiatus…
Her attractiveness? Here weightiness & willingness,
No hypersensitiveness, it was just pure marmonious,
Our bondings may well have been erroneous,
But to we youngsters, found them frabjous,
Iris said, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
THE MORNING BLISSES… THEN, THE PM AND EVENING COLLIESHANGIES! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = No Blogging Achieved! No time, no successes, nothing went right this afternoon. It would have been a difficult task, with all the extra jobs that needed to be done, or as today, not done. With failures, and . A mentally & physically draining, frustrating, annoying, anger-making, late seizure-ridden, pain-polluting, ill-making, infuriating, maddening, barely-endurable, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna & Frustration Frank creating, sod of an excruciating infested, making my blood boil, day. Life is not working – I am not coping. I have never felt so angered, aggravated or exasperated. Anxious, uneasy, nervous, tensed-up, worried, and pissed-off with life. Solutions are unavailable, and ten-minute visits from different Carers eliminate them from solving anything. The problems remain, despite my begging Wardens, Carers & anyone daft enough to listen to me, for help. None of the situations and or issues that were deemed fit to torment me today were my fault. (Well, maybe the tumble – but that was well-timed, the only bit of good luck I had all day, I think. Carer Ejaz rescued me again. Got me up with a struggle) Usually, they crop up when there is no help available from a Carer or Warden.
The farce with the laundry is representative of what I mean. Carer Ejaz arrived for the one extended visit of the week. Getting me back on my feet from the tumble was his first job. Still, at this point, we did have a laugh between us. No injuries, just aching back and a bruise on my hand, neither of which was of any significance. (By night I was thinking the same thing about me, sad innit?) Ejaz took the laundry, got it in the washer and returned to make some phone calls for me. He used my mobile, which is going to cost me. Carer Nimra uses her phone, which charges me by the minute or part of a minute. The first call he made for me was to the Audio Centre. To make an appointment for me on Wednesday, so I can take a Carer with me. He found out that they are only open for 3 days a week now, not including Wednesdays! He received a recorded message stating that they are only open to patients on Mondays, Tuesdays & Thursdays. So, since he failed to make an appointment through no fault of his own, I’ll have to go on my own if we ever make one. I hope I get knocked down on the way, then Mr Pensioner-Hating Starmer can be thanked for his failed promises to ‘mend the NHS’, and he may be able to give himself another notch for another pensioner killed, who couldn’t hear the electric car that killed him. Come to think of it, waiting for the Glaucoma operation, I wouldn’t see it either. I digressed there.
Ejaz went down and moved the washing into the dryer. I returned and asked him to mop the kitchen and wet room for me. Which he did, in a fashion.
He sorted the medication drawer and went down to collect the laundry. He returned, saying it was still wet, too wet, and his time was up. Telling me to tell the 17:00hr Carer to collect it then.
No way, I’ve lost laundry twice before that I left in a machine. My fault, I’d forgotten on both occasions that it was still doyen there. Carer Ejaz shot off.
I stopped what miserable bit of blogging that I’d done and made a brew. 35 minutes later, I painfully hobbled down to the laundry room to investigate.
My clothes were in the dryer, tumbling away. I returned to the flat to find it had 25 minutes left to run. Drank my cold tea, used the Porcelain Throne.
I went back down the 13 floors in the lift to check on the dryer again. The dryer was still churning. I stopped it, opened the door, and the clothes were still wet through and cold! Grrr!
I couldn’t put it in the other dryer because someone else had already used it.
Back up to the flat. 40 minutes later, I frustratedly returned to move my clobber into the other machine. But, No! A different load of clothes was now in the dryer. So, I stayed down in the laundry room. To make sure this did not happen again. An hour later, the dryer was still running. Carer Nimra came into the lobby, admitted by some garden workers.
Luckily, I’d left the door open, and saw her walking by talking to the young men, and called out, else she would have gone my way and up to the flat, which would cause even more complications. I explained the situation, and she took out the dry clothes from the dryer and threw mine into it. And we poddled up to the flat. Medications issued. Telling me she had had a bad day too. Six minutes later, she was off.
I went down to keep an eye on the dryer, in case someone else took mine out. A chap came in, and I told him about the first dryer being kaputt. But he still put his things in it and tried to get it to work. He was keen for me to take mine out so he could use dryer two. I foolishly took out my clothes, finding they were not thoroughly dried by a long shot.
I was spitting blood by the time I waited for the dryer, then feeling a fool for taking it out early to appease the grunting chap. I was too tired and tense, and with no time to spare, I could only manage a bit on the blog post! I got even more agitated and swore a lot when I got into the flat and found the slippers still soaked, and all the clothes needed hanging to dry all over the place. The wet room, kitchenette, hallway, and the already filled slow-airer.
Full of angst, weary, and tired out, I managed to get some food sorted, a stew cooked in the microwave.
Sat down to watch some TV to unwind, and fell deeply asleep. Shooting away at 04:00hrs, with the TV still on, the remote balancing on my man breasts, and bile coming up through my throat.
So many other things happened today. Good stuff in the morning! But, I’m so far behind again. And cannot read the sparse notes I’ve put in the memory pad.
I’ll have to sort the SD card and any photos I might have taken in the morning, in hopes of jiggling my memory of them into action.
Urine 4.5 level
Waking up time, Humph!
I very nearly made the bed!
Taken from the computer chair
Terrible kitchen view shot
Car park in the drizzle
Two khagules to hand wash
Hung them to dry in the wet room
Much bleeding gums
Memory pad & mug of tea
The rain stopped
Whoops, started again!
Carer Ejaz arrived. If I’d known what
lay ahead, I wouldn’t have let him in.
The following six hours of misery, I’ve got out of the way earlier in the blog.
The red car is back on the chevrons.
I’m not sure how I managed to make this meal. I had a few mini-seizures while making it. I’d put a potato in the slow-cooker about nine hours earlier and forgot about it. A can of beef stew, garden peas, chick peas, Gung Po sauce, mushroom ketchup, pickled gherkins & beetroot were added, and finally, the potato was cut up. Then everything was mixed together. Microwaved it for six minutes. No mess in the kitchen in the morning!
Another mystery: How did I not burn any food or myself, cut myself, drop anything, or remember this bit of the cooking when other things are blank? The notepad writing looks like shorthand again.
Another messy, spirit-sapping, farcical day.
I’m not sorry it went away!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – How can one cope in old age?
With your infected brain, you cannot assuage,
Neurotransmitters prevent anchorage…
You may get a brain haemorrhage,
And mistake a hostage for a sausage?
Wine, tea, or water tastes like any beverage
The same as lettuce, garlic or cabbage,
You’ll get a regular bladder & bowel blockage, The next day, each will have a floodage!
Your IQ will suffer near-fatal damage,
Into the past, your mind will carucage, You’ll not understand it; this mental carnage,
Be a soft target for hustling or chantage,
When you die, you may leave just coinage,
Every day needs pain tolerance & courage,
Ask how you became this physical wreckage?
Know the nurses by name at your triage,
Reality & fantasy will soon start to merge,
You’ll wee-wee whenever you get the urge, Your leaking catheter may again surge?
Lose interest in sex & carnal knowledge,
You’ll never understand how to mailmerge,
Amazed at how you coped with life’s voyage!
Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be…
That could be a phrase dedicated to Inchie…
Take good & bad, calmly and uncomplainingly?
Treat both extremes, impassively, unemotionally?
Avoid sulking, emotion; Don’t respond delinquently.
Bad as it is, worse will come eventually,
Cope with fate, as you grow elderly…
Laugh, smile, care not, adopt faux-longanimousity,
Mental blockages, bad luck, injuries 100, good luck 1.3,
So many medications are taken diurnally,
Things you did dynamically, now done dysfunctionally,
Decisions taken determinedly, but now dithery,
Lack of concentration makes you act lackadaisically,
Teatime each day, you tire, meet sleep unresistingly,
You’ll fall into sleep, dreamingly…
Your Carer or Nurse wakes you up successfully…
Shouting in your ear, “Yo’ alright? Can yer hear me”?
“Oh, fine, thanks!” you say stroppily!
Then she goes and beats you again at Monopoly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Got up at 02:45hrs. I got so carried away with doing the Odes, and with another prolonged seizure (Albeit the after-effects of the long ones seem to be less bothersome than the mini ones),I just ran out of time to get much else done. I don’t want to fall so far behind with my blog again. Although I no doubt will. The neurologist, dentists, and audiologist appointments may be finalised this or next week. I don’t know how long they will be for, but I have to give a week’s notice for ordering lifts.
Carer Nimra tried to ring the Dentist about my appointment time and date confirmation, but there was no answer. I believe I may have made an Arithmaphobia error and put it on the calendar for yesterday. But we could not get through to them on Monday or today. Carer Ejaz, who accompanied me on the last appointment, believes the next one was scheduled for January, but Muggin’s here has it listed on the wrong date. They usually send an email or text to remind me. The more urgent telephone calls needed are: one to the Audio Clinic to book an appointment, preferably on a Wednesday, and one to Easy Link community buses, to book a lift both ways. But we do need 7 days’ notice, so even if they have an earlier cancellation, I can’t take it.
Now the computer is playing up on me again. A quicky this time. No time for any more writing. I’ll try to get the photos on. What few there are.
Sugar! CorelDraw just crashed!
Balcony right end of the woods, and the rain is pouring down. Taken through the window.
Same area, down to the car park. Is that the chevron parker’s car?
Four hours later, Carer Ejaz took a snap of me on his mobile and emailed it to me. Thank you.
Gone dark again, still raining.
Still dark at 0800hrs.
The mist is coming down now. 17:00hrs.
The weariness of the long day arrived.
Furry Of The Week Spunk Mr Price’s Cat Clowder Leader. Mind you, they are all individuals, and gorgeous.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Some things contractable, may be pleasurable,
I recall Suzanne, Grizelda and Mabel,
Take care getting your feet under the table,
Beware of disparity, that’s over-respectful,
Disease, bad habits and greed can be contaigable,
Starmer’s all three, yet he keeps out of trouble,
Is there no one who can burst his bubble?
Keirs bent, a liar, but where is the decrial?
How does he remain inextirpable?
To truth, morals, honesty; he’s extrinsical
I think they may like him at Arsenal,
His promises, principles & odd eschewal…
He escapes justice by being cleverly fissilingual,
Decent people consider him to be a furuncle,
Full of infection, like a toothache or a gumboil,
Hostage, sausage, unintelligible,
Once a barrister, so versed in being liable…
Falsifying, jury-misleading, vilificational,
He told the plain truth once, it was unintentional,
As PM, he is unstoppable, uncontrollable…
He does as he likes, he’s ungainsayable,
I think he should be censurable,
Each decision he takes makes someone miserable,
If he contracted a painful disease, groinal…
I wouldn’t be so hypocritical…
If he snuffs it, hodiernal…
Citizens’ happiness would be eternal! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Will disasters, worries, concerns, seizures, my ailments, lousy luck, mental problems, eyesight, hearing, loneliness, sarcasm, hatred of Starmer, my Virgin Media computer, and mobile and telephone problems ever ease off, relent? That was a daft question!
Woke at 04:30hrs: The feet needed a soak in soap and some Dettol. Carried out the early Health Checks. BP had gone down a lot.
I took a leisurely paced trip to the wet room to carry out the needs of my phooey body. The Porcelain Throne session produced no movement again. I’ll have some of the Pakistani vegetable curry later; the last time I had it, I ended up with four trips to the Porcelain Throne the following day. The shaving went fantastically. Just one cut on the neck. The scab on the head wound dropped off. Shaving in a bowl of water nearly turned into a calamity when I slipped while getting out. I lunged for the sink to steady myself and avoided a tumble. I banged my wrist doing so, and I put some Germolene on it later. To be right, it was another decent morning for the ailments. Anne Gyna had returned, but Duodenal Donald and Arthur Itis’ knees were no hassle. Cartilage Chloe threatened to give way on me in the afternoon, but I survived unfallen. Haha! I think I took the ablutions too early to find out if the computer would work when I boot it up.
From the balcony, I took shots of the views. Above is my beloved Tree Copse. Then, the end of the car park was snapped. Usual parking from the little red car. Down from the window.
Getting seated at the computer, I took this shot. It was my knees under the colourful thin Kaghoule that I’d decided to try. Carer Ejaz arrived before I could try out the computer. He issued the medications and checked those delivered yesterday, or possibly Saturday. If not, Friday. He put on my diabetic socks. He was a smidge late coming, so he didn’t have time for me to tell him about the need for phone calls to be made. The dentist, audio clinic and Dentist.
A nice lad. Took the waste bag with him.
Another fail!
Then on the computer. I can’t believe it was working. Mind you, it was very slow. But working! I spent four hours trying to catch up on yesterday’s blog, but it was a real mental workout. Carer Nimra arrived.
I asked if she could make the phone calls to the three places. I explained that if I don’t contact them to cancel tomorrow’s appointment, they will still charge me. She rang Easy Link. Nimra confirmed that medical appointment lifts need 7 days’ notice.
But she didn’t have time to rig the Audio centre, or the Dentists. And Ejaz was unable to. I suspect that I’m going to get a £50 bill from the dentist’s. Unless Nimra can ask the ICC (Inner City Carers) office to try to get in touch. It’s too late now anyway, I’ve got to give 24 hours’ notice. Grangnagles!
I scuffed my leg against the potato drawer.
Minutes later, the friendly District Nurse arrived. She checked the leg, which was now covered in a new plaster. Inspected and passed my back passage, declaring it was okay now. And adjusted the catheter contraption. She didn’t seem too concerned about the recent rises in the BP returns. So, I’m not.
Carer Ejaz arrived. I tried to explain about the situation with the phone calls about Easy Link, the Audio Centre and the Dentist. Then… as Ejaz went to take off the diabetic socks… He was disgusted to see the leg, pouch straps, and sleeve covered in urine. I apologised as best I could; it’s not very pleasant for anyone to sort out. But he did, and readjusted things afterwards. Bless him. How the urine escaped was obvious; the release valve was in the open position. I’m struggling more than ever. Making mistakes, I’ve not done before, repeatedly.
I fear that I am getting closer and closer to being moved into a home of some sort.
If I had some extra care hours, it would definitely help. But the cost would be beyond my means.
I made a meal, and sank as I did it, into an even Deeper Darius state. I was doing things automatically. My mind is musing over so many other things that are beyond my capabilities, coming at the same time.
I didn’t make it into bed. About 00:00hrs, I fell asleep in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Shooting awake to find it was 03:15hrs. Immediately, Thought-Storming-Steve burst into life, not the slightest chance of getting back to the land of nod.
Concerns, worries, & fears matured and stewed…
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – NOT A GOOD END TO THIS WEEK! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – More computer problems, yet again,
With Seizures, mental and physical pain,
Frustration inflames my damaged brain,
Silly thoughts & depression I can’t restrain,
My thoughts; silly ones don’t appertain…
No desire, willpower, but maybe to deign,
Dementia atop, Haemorrhoids astern,
Rear-end evacuations like an aquafarm,
Each day I’m at risk of mental harm,
Sanity, I’ve had to quitclaim,
Mind control, I cannot relearn,
Social life, I just can’t reclaim,
My right leg’s skin is rhagadiform,
While humankind becomes more suzerain,
We have dishonest Starmer as our PM,
A bent liar, a schelm and skelm,
Leading the UK, sort of somatoform,
I cannot discern, understand or secern. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0315hrs: A great start, despite the high SYS. Night pouch taken off. Remarkable absence of Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, Arthur Itis, Earache Erasmus, Depression Darius, & Back Pain Brenda. A few playing up, though, Cartilage Chloe, Toothache Tiffany, and Balance-Lost-Belinda. After the computer cock-up the Mood Ratio finished at the end of the long day, as shown here on the right.
Got the Health Check gear ready.
Took two snaps of the extra blue sky.
Clock changed.
Kitchen View.
TREBLE TROUBLE
Suspected Boll-Weevil on screen.
And on a kitchen towel. ARRGH!
Then things got worse… ARRGH!
A BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH.
A few minutes later, CorelDraw came back on.
Swiftly displaying a complicated list of processors in action. No idea what it meant.I waited for the processing to stop.
It took about an hour.
Then…No idea why.
Then…
I had to lefy… lefy? No, I’m hoping I can find a way to turn off the computer. The keyboard & mouse were not working.
I gave up and had to unplug the computer. I wasn’t feeling up to finding the bad news, so I left for two more hours. When Carer Mirza arrived, he told me to unplug again and leave it for at least an hour.
So, I did. Put the computer back on, and apart from everything going stuttery and in slow motion, it did let me open the CorelDraw package. But the mousse would not work, and then it stopped letting me type anything. Next, it froze altogether.
I left it alone and opened the internet again.
I went to WordPress to see if that was working. I started typing, and when I hit the period, the less-than sign showed… and filled my WordPress with them. I dare not try to show you, just in case. I shut it down in the proper way.
Turned it back on 65 minutes later.
As the windows opened, brief flashes of technical information appeared, followed by the opening screen. I daren’t not use it, and closed it in the usual fashion, and cried.
This may be the end.
I took a snap of the evening, showing what looked like a bit of the moon in the sky.
Then made a meal. I was halfway through eating this when I realised I’d not pictured it. So, I did.
The Pernicus sausages were okay. I added pickled beetroot chunks, yellow, red & brown tomatoes, pickled red onions & cabbage. The Copernicussausages (hostages if Starmer is reading) were 200g each.
= = = = = = = = = = = =
I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. Concerned that the computer may be in a narky mood in the morning and will not let me write this blog.
Huh, then I got flow-back pains from the catheter.
Took me yonks to get it right.
This delay made it even harder to fall asleep. Which I did, around 0230hrs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I used to know what I needed, wanted to do,
Be it involving a romantic rendezvous…
Or to throw a party, dance or a chanoyu,
Buy a Fiat, Skoda, Ford or a Subaru…
I’ve owned each of these in the past, too…
Oh, and of course my 4-wheel drive Diahatsu,
What to cook for my meal, not cordon bleu,
Roast or baked potatoes, or a beef & veg stew?
Or battered Haddock & fishcakes would do,
Buy it on the web, high street or at a vendue?
If it were never-never land, Utopia, or Xanadu,
A cat, a dog, a hamster, a hawk or a sucuruju?
Nowadays, the only thing guaranteed is a snafu! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
10:10hrs Sunday: Forgive the smiling photo of Inchy welcoming you to the blog… I’m so happy at this moment, despite it being Sunday morning and a late start to this catching-up blog. I feel blessed. My best friend is back. The best gift I rarely have nowadays is here with me. No logical reasoning why; Nothing has changed from yesterday’s gloominess in any way. But I woke up with Horis, and he’s still with me. I just love the ‘Sod-’em-all’ attitude Horis brings me. I can’t get into this mode myself, but surely Horis is myself in a warped way, must have assisted me to get in this blissful, albeit liable to dissipate as unexpectedly as he arrived. But why can’t I bring it on when needed? I’ve no control of it at all… well, maybe I could learn some Wicker-Tricks. I’m so far behind with the blog, it hurts. Got the new medical procedures to be monitored by a Carer. The bloody shaving, shower, and medications cost me over two hours. Teeth & gums bleeding. New growths on the leg. I’m baffled as to why I feel like this, yet bloody glad I do! I’m writing this now because I might forget to add it later.
The computer went down. I’ll add this to Sunday’s blog if I ever get it started. Got to finish this one before it freezes on me again. Using snaps to save time, sorry for the lack of or poor details. Farewell sweet .
Health Checks were monitored by Carer Nimra. BP High again!
Dry crinkly skin
Iceland Food!
Amazing evening sky
Amazing evening meal!
At last, I cooked some cheesy baked potatoes that came out just as I like them. Gorgeous!
Have to stop here, keyboard problems now.
Spent three hours trying to get the computer to work, but I wasn’t typing well. The mouse was super sticky, so I changed batteries in both the mouse and keyboard. All closed and off, left it for an hour. Retried while Carer Miarza was visiting. Working in a fashion. At least temporarily. Don’t be surprised if this is the end of Inchie. Can’t cope.
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There are several things, of which I am abstinent,
But certainly not returning anything that I have lent,
Weaknesses, too, like I’ve consistently overspent,
Sold my house, flat costs a fortune to rent,
Of course, I was fit then, as an adolescent,
I’ve had the odd medical adornment,
Now, in old age, surviving can be a torment,
My flat feels like a place of internment,
Ideas, plans, hopes become a delirifacient,
My body & brains sees too much inaction,
Hard to see & hear, and I’m glabrescent,
Yet at times, I feel so terribly content…
Aware of myself as being a totipotent!
Carers’ and nurses’ visits seem so transient…
But at each one, I get all besottent! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Five Porcelain Throne visits The first one, a Constipation Kondrad, was another long, painful struggle to evacuate the two gigantic, almost cube-shaped projectiles. The next four were the reverse: Trotsky, Terence, and Torrents. I suspect it was prompted by my eating the Vegetable Pickle, which tasted gorgeous. Maybe this was the payback – I expected the Trots, but no.
Ablutions were carried out. Along with the medicationings, these took over two hours to complete. The shaving and teeth cleaning were bloody affairs. Teeth, gums, cuts on the neck, and after the Trotsky visit, the bum was bleeding a little too much. My right leg top had some extraordinary markings, spots, bruises, & DVT veins showing on it that I’d not noticed before. So much, I photographed it for posterity.
Carer Nirma arrived: Urine graded. Body checks done. Diabetic socks fitted. Health Checks, temperature, blood test & levels were monitored. The BP was high, but it came down on the second reading.
Back to the blog, catching up.
Matron Jackie phoned again. See how things were going. Something about the falls team, or was that yesterday? The paragraph below reveals all.
Unfortunately, this morning (Saturday), I got into what can only be called a mega-pickle with all the day’s memory notes. I’d got mixed up entirely between the three blogs I was working on. Vainly thinking, I’d sort them out into three lots, one for each of the days. Not wanting to get more confused, I thought I had torn up Thursday’s notes. However, when I started Saturday’s template and then returned to Friday’s to update, I realised I hadn’t actually done so. It was Friday’s notes that had been ripped to shreds!
It had been such a fair morning up to now.
Bile threatened to come up from my innards. Self-lambasting, Self-hatred & I foolishly ground my teeth at my stupidity. I had to use the Toothache Spray and took an extra 30 mg of Codeine. The pains and ailments were introduced into Inchy’s world. Ann Gyna and Duodenal Donald mainly.
Then, things went really ape-shit! Saturday morning, doing this catch-up, and was blessed by Satan again. I must have hit the wrong key combination, as I went into a mini-seizure. When I came out of it, the keyboard and mouse were not working at all. I went on CorelDraw to find the same, but I couldn’t get back to this because the computer froze. A blue screen then a black screen appeared, back to a blue screen, and as CorelDraw opened again, I had the mouse busy thingamajig on screen for around ten minutes. During that time, I was preparing for the worst and was on the verge of tears. The busy sign turned back to an arrow, and when I tried selecting artwork, I could not do so individually. It selected other things as well. Now, enough was enough. I was still in a haze after the seizure, and as this cleared, I tried to remember what I was doing when it went bonkers on me. I figured out I was in WordPress, and I went to the gallery by using the shortcut keys Shift-Alt-M.
I assume I hit a nearby key in error.
Reigned to failure, and thinking, ‘Well, it can’t make things any worse; I tapped, in quick mode, Shift, then Ctrl, Windows, then the Alt keys once each.
The Zoom changed to a smaller on-screen. I corrected it in the 3-dots top right, and bugger me… It was working again! UP TO NOW, anyway.
I absolutely refused to allow myself to go into Smug-Mode. My history forebade me.
I’m aware of the succubus, incubus or gremlin that is ever-ready to drop a Whoopsiedangleplop or Accifauxpa in my path.
I got back to trying to piece together Friday’s notes to make them readable. No chance.
So, guesstimates follow. Not many.
Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation!.
Erm… Er… Carers Nirma, Miza and Ejaz attended.
Back to Friday.
Good job that I took these memory-prompting snaps.
I was on the balcony, and saw the Asda van. Only two carrier bags were filled. But I had ordered even more spring water to add to the stacks of it I already had in stock.
The stock consisted of various bottles of spring water, soda water, and a few cans of Soda and Grapefruit. Not cheap, I like to use them to add to the water sometimes, to give it a bit of welcome flavouring. All my favourites were ordered. Do you see the size of Podwawelska sausages in packs of two? They dwarf the two 480g cans of Beef stew. This is the first time I’ve found & bought these. A bottle of Mushroom ketchup, and the teeth-testing but tasty Twiglets.
Blog Updating.
I missed a call on the new old-fogies mobile.
When Carer Mirzra came, he investigated the ins & outs of the Settings.
He rang from his own mobile, and Wallah! It came with a ringtone that I could hear! He then rang the mobile on the landline, and that had the same hearable chime! Thanks, Mizra!
The Chemists 4U delivery has not arrived yet. But yesterday I got these on order from Asda. Pleaded to get some Odour Eaters.
Trotsky Terene was in strict, complete control.
I only just made it in time to avoid an involuntary evacuation! Unfortunately, I had a follow-through that made a mess and took ages to clean up!
I did the afternoon Health Checks. Carer Mizra checked them. The SYS was below the HYPER level, operating on Normal High.
Meal of the Day!
Chip-Shop oven chips, three different colours of tomatoes, vegetarian sausages, with sliced, unbuttered Milk Roll bread. It was a highly passable meal, but it would have been better if not for the Linda McCartney tasteless sausages.
Carer Ejaz made just the one call again. I’m wondering why he seems to be prevented from calling on me and just doing the one late call.
Not that either of the other two regulars doesn’t do a decent job. They do.
After-meal sunset shots. Distant. Then a zoomed-in shot.
It was more than a good job that I had the photographs to remind me. Even though I’d got them all out of sync in the gallery.
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I used to be an analyser, and much wiser,
An appeaser, a peace-loving adjudicator,
But politicians have changed my demeanour,
Their cynicism, lies, & self-greed gave me aporia,
I think each HMG minister & Prime Minister…
Can be classed as an expert snollygoster!
Faker & falser than any Indian fakir,
Hitler, Putin, but the greediest is Starmer,
Trump wants to make the USA greater?
Putin, to make Russia superior?
Starmer? Wants to make Starmer Richer,
Combined, they couldn’t make me feel sicker,
But Starmer’s Governmental shower…
With their terminological inexactitude,
Keir, the mountebank, poseur & storyteller,
“His Father was a tool-maker…”
His son, a charlatan, deceiver & hoodwinker,
He lied for cash when a barrister,
And continues as Prime Minister,
Whether he lies by omission?
Seemingly with the opposition’s permission?
Who thought they might win the election?
They sulk and need forgiveness & absolution,
Labour’s win was surely a game-changer,
Rishi was incompetent, Keir is an illywhacker
A word-twisting, up-market barrister,
Sausage & Hostage; do you remember?
So, we’re stuck with Starmers-kvetcher’s,
Chances of his assassination get slimmer,
But, if it happened, my odes could be cheerier!
Pensioners & Farmers, families would be happier! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Plenty of photos today, but little else. I’m still days behind with the blogging, Humph!
Shattered from yesterday’s 26-hour marathon of a day. Didn’t get up until 0645hrs, in a bit of a daze. I seem to have, according to the few scribbled notes here, sorted the waste bins as soon as I’d released the night bag from the catheter. Then spent half an hour on the Porcelain Throne. Eventually, releasing two Constipation Conrad concrete-like imitations of the H-bomb, Little Boy. So, no time again to get a shave and shower! Dirty!
Carer Nimra arrived as I got out of the wet room. Phorpain gelled the cartilages, and Arthur Itis. Barrier creamed body check. Then got the medications sorted and put my diabetic socks on for me. No more details found in the notes on this call. Although there was quite a bit of scribble, I could not read.
Started blog, catching up. Not a lot.
Then the Vynne delivery arrived with the catheter back-up equipment for me. Nimra put it under the Carer’s table on the next visit for me. Something else is coming, but because it is medical, the text doesn’t say what is arriving. Perhaps something is missing, but their text suggests it will arrive tomorrow. It did!
Back to the blogging. I’m miles behind.
Neighbour and friend Jenny sent an email that Wednesday’s blog is not on! I got myself into a right mess with it.
Really hot today. I nipped out on the balcony a few times to take shots of the skies. Then… Then… from the kitchen
Then an Amazon delivery arrived.
AHA! The SD card and pickled whatsits I can swap the SD card now, and not worry about me breaking, losing, or damaging the lads card, and let him have it back with my thanks. As you can see, the card fitted a treat!
I opened a jar of the Pakistani vegetable pickle and had a taste. Blooming-strong! I liked it, but I must be careful not to overeat at tonight’s meal. At least I hope not to miss another meal. Hehe! I’m looking forward to this pickle, just a little.. Below is what I plan to mix in the pickle. Bettroot, Kung Po sauce and mushroom ketchup.
I’ll mix them up in a small finger pot so I don’t get carried away and overeat of it.
Carer Nasra did a lot for me on her last visit. But deciphering all nine lines of my terrible scribble, come scrawl, was had. Cartilage,
The DVT-Warfarin Cardiac lady called up, she is coming to take another blood test sample tomorrow, then another one on Monday next.
Matron Jacjie phoned to see if I wanted to be referred to the Falls Team. I was not sure and explained that I would not have had the head-banging fall at all if it were not for the leaking catheter bag. I slipped on the urine that was escaping from a crack in the pouch.
This may have happened today; I’m not sure what was decided about the Falls Team referral.
Yes, I think it was this morning, and I misread what I wrote on the memory pad. Ignore the above.
I sneaked shot of Ejaz, removing diabetic socks.
Carer Ejaz did the last call. I got a plus+ treatment tonight. Diabetic socks off. Ejaz asked if I needed any Peptac. I did, and he gave me some. He found the Lymphorrea Leslie scab was leaking, and might need a plaster on again. Barrier creamed my back wings, and Phorpain gelled both knees and cartilages. Bless him. I’m sorry he doesn’t come so often nowadays. He and Carer Mirza help with the mobile phone problems and know the routine. Both come rarely now. Still, others need to learn, don’t they? Got an email with this sunset photo on it. A Carer had taken it for me yesterday, I think. Thank You.
The last few lines on the memory pad must have been written during a seizure. It looked more like a terrible copy of shorthand.
But it was so late, and I was really feeling all-in.
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Good luck, how is it bestowed?
If you have any, how was it incurred?
I’m thinking of Keir Starmer, the turd,
How did he become PM, & put the UK at peril?
He’s clearly no honesty, not a single moral?
I see his face and get all antagonistical,
He should be trite and apologetical,
Any decency he had has been shanghaied,
I pray for the news that he has died,
I’ll hear it in heaven, where he will be denied! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Aha, another up-to-the-neck-in-it flipping day! I thought all Wednesdays were bound to be complicated and hectic, with so many tasks to get done and so little time to do them. But this Wednesday, 13th August, brought more confusion and difficulties my way than ever before. Visitors, phone callers, delivery problems, DVT nurse, Bloof Nurse, catheter delivery difficulties, an avalanche of late mini seizures, etc.
However, the medical interruptions were joyously welcomed all the same, and made me feel cared for, not abandoned. Carer Nasra coped well with it, but I wasn’t in complete control. Silly thing to say, I’ve not been in control of my life for years.
Nevertheless, I am in deeper schnook with and about what took place – there was a two-hour period when no sooner had one problem been part solved, another alteration in plan came with the next visitor. By 14:30 hours, my writing pad had two pages of notes, offering little help in deciphering my own scrawl. This blog was not started until Thursday morning, just no time – and just as gauling, no shower, or shave for yet another day! On the bright side, a Carer brought me an SD card from his device, and it worked in Kodak Tim 2! I’ve got a loan of it until the new Kodak SD card arrives. Which is due tomorrow. But I had to promise not to look at his pictures on the card Haha!)
So, despite there being a load of codswallop on today, you can be certain that I’ve still missed a lot of failings, frustrations, mistakes, cock-ups, errors… oh, I left the tap running yet again. So no shave or shower. AGAIN! Be grateful for small mercies. Hahaha!
A large order arrived from Ocado. See how many bags-worth. Humph! Cock-up number three of the day, I thought I’d ordered it for next Wednesday. I need help with this, specifically with the Arithmaphobia! I did ask Google’s AI thingy, and got: Yes, help is available for arithmophobia, even if it’s a late-life diagnosis. Arithmophobia, the fear of numbers, can be addressed through various therapeutic approaches. Exposure therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), and sometimes medication, along with lifestyle changes, are standard treatment options. I had to change three words cause it was written in US English. Soda water drinkies, Schweppes, Lemon fool, & Carnipus sausages. I liked these, chewy but tasty! I snapped some of the foods that tickled my fancy. (There’s not been a lot of that these last few years, Hehe, I can tell yers). These tomatoes are from the Isle of Wight. Costly, but so mealy and tasty! Voom variety. A few naughty favourites as well. With Twiglets (not good for the teeth), Frazzles and Smokey bacon. And, of course, my top-loved Maryland Vegan cookies. I have no idea why I bought these apples. Not a cat in hell’s chance of eating them with my few and broken teeth! The phone rang at this stage. It was the start of the catheter parts farce, which didn’t arrive. These plain NANNS are the ones I tried with my home-made stew the other week. Remember to sprinkle water on them in the oven, and they taste delightful dunked. Two small Fitzgerald’s sourdough batons. Ocado are dearer overall, but they have things that are not available. I tend to search for their special prices. My supply of Spring Water and Soda water was now well stocked up. I got a bottle of the Grapefruit and Grapefruit & Barley water to use as a top-up to give taste to the water drinks. I also got a bottle of fruit cordial or squash, whichever. Mandarin, lime & lemon.
Carer Nimra arrived for the extended visit and took the laundry down first. While she was downstairs, Matron Jackie came. Nimra returned, as Matron was checking my lower regions front and rear. I ask Carer Nimra to clean the oven for me, especially now, after my cock-up, Whoopsiedangleplop of leaving the oven on for the 23-hour duration of my hospital stay in Cardiac visit. She did a good job on it for me. We spoke of something and… Ah, I remember now what it was. I explained what to do if I go into a seizure while she’s here; the instructions I found on the NHS site were more about what not to do. Do not touch or move them unless there is danger nearby, or injuries that need the recovery position, and/or possible Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) are present. I asked her not to talk loudly as well. In the past, people had shouted loudly after not getting any response to their asking if I was alright, and shaking me – this dragged me from the seizure, and put me in a panic mode for some reason. That was the worst-ever recovery time I’ve ever suffered. I’m not sure, but I think I had a seizure after Matron left, but how can I be sure? Maybe not? Why did I think that?… As far as I know, or think, I only had two seizures all day, one in the afternoon, one about 0130hrs this morning. Why did I even mention it? I do ramble on, and I don’t have the time to do that, but I do? It’ll be another gawd knows when before I can even start on today’s (Thursday) blog. Note to Self: Stop waffling!
A DVT Cardiac team member rang me to ask how I felt. They informed me that they will be taking my blood samples more frequently from now on and will contact me with the dates and times beforehand. Please ensure you are in when they call. Possibly with a Cardiac member who will take a brain scan, BP, temperature, etc..
I got a call from the ICC Lady, via the Carer’s phone. It seems someone has already put an order in for prescription drugs & catheter equipment. I was lost even further.
Carer Nimra went down to put the washing in the dryer. I had a text about the catheter equipment being delivered soon. Ninra returned, and I showed it to her. She made some calls to clarify and tell them I only had one night bag left. After a brave succession of dealing with different departments, I got a call from Matron. I’m struggling with my writing in the notebook. I’m a little confused about what I’ve included and what I’ve left out. I’d better stop here; it’d likely come out as hogwash.
Carer Nimra returned with the laundry – all damp, with the slippers wet. But, she’s not one to be beaten, our Nimra isn’t… out onto the balcony and put the slippers on the four-wheel-walker in the sunshine to dry! And hung up the damp dressing gown in the hallway, where at that time the sun was creeping in.
Nurse Hristina arrived at the time she said she would, bless her, she is a treasure. I must ask her if she can get a bottle of Krakus Borscht. I keep forgetting to ask the Angel.
A blessed person, whom I cannot name, loaned me an SD card & Camera Tim Kodak 2 is back in action! In fact, I took some of the food out of the fridge and cupboards to photograph; that you see above. Now, let’s hope the new card works with Amazon. I’ve also ordered some pickled vegetables for tomorrow. Looking forward to trying them, hope they are not too hot. Made in Pakistan. I’ll try to remember to let you know.
Well, I’m sure I missed something in my rush. But, as it is now Thursday at 17:30hrs, and obviously I’ve not started on that blog yet, not even finished this one. Cuts will have to be made to let me catch up some. But, me being me, it won’t happen.
I love a good write; it makes up for not getting any good gossip, I believe.
Ar Carer Ejaz made the last call. I really appreciated having been assisted with the loan of an SD card for the camera.
I said cherrio to the sunshine. Bye, bye… Cheerio… Hope to see you tomorrow!
