Vascular Dementia Doreen

Inchy Today: Tuesday 27th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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MR PHOOEY
One of Sister Jane & hubby Pete’s cats.
My personal favourite. The lad had all sorts of problems. I believe he would have been around 13 years old in this photo, taken at their mansion.
The poor mite went deaf and almost blind a couple of years later. Then, he had kidney problems and many others, and he became fragile. Finding this photo made me think of Tim Price and Doug, WordPress cat owners who have gone through the anguish of losing their loves. Mr Phooey was an amazingly calm, & friendly cat. When one picked him up. I could hear and feel his purrs when I got a chance, and it was an honour to be able to gently fuss him, along with Jane, as in this photo above. 
Thank heavens for memories! 
Soft? Me? Yes, I loved him!
Bless Him!
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Be suspicious of those who bootlick,
Making sure it’s your boots is the trick,
Avoid Inchy’s odes; they’re logorrhoeic,
Men avoid women who are logorrhoeic,
And Starmer, the anthropophobic,
And known to be an anthropophagic,
He’s also deceptive, false, demagogic…
I find time for this sort of epodic,
Guillotines, designed to be ergonomic,
I think this Ode is funkadelic?
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You’ll probably guess better what happened than I can remember occurred.
Scribble only, and few photos. Recorded well for the first few hours, then the multiple seizures confounded me; I was in and out from then on.
04:50hrs: Stripped, grabbed the necessary items, and headed to the wet room to perform the ablutions and medicationalisations.
Soaked my feet and stood in a bowl with disinfectant while I cut my face… I mean, shaved. Hehe!
Getting my feet out of the bowl, I spilt some water, slipped on it and cracked my head against the sink. I seem to be mastering this little exercise more regularly these days. Tsk!

06:25hrs: I got on the computer. 07:15hrs: Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications. Then, I added mesh netting to the catheter contraption and got the diabetic socks fitted on my now dangly legs and feet.

On the computer, I came across an old photo of Sister Jane, Mr Phooey, and me. (above) I am as soft as grease, I know. But I thought of all my WordPress heroes who have cats and gone through the anguish of losing them. I am the same with my Cyril and Lady, and of course, Jane’s Mr Phooey! 💛

The computer needed a reset in the hope that this would correct its habit of sticking mousse.
So, I got the Hoover out and did a bit of cleaning up. The emphasis is on ’A bit of cleaning up!’ Haha! 

The food delivery from J Sainsbury’s arrived. I started to put away the foodstuff… I must have taken this photo.


A mega-seizure followed by a slowly dwindling series of mini-seizures.
How two Carer visits came and went with only glimpses of any memory of them amazes me.
Not as much as how I did work on CorelDraw during the long one. And what bit I did and no cock-ups in them… that I could find anyway. No taps were left on. No food doors were left open.
How? That’s what I’d like to know!
No signs of aches or new pains to indicate any tumbles being taken, either.
I meant to mention this to Carer Joe when he came, but I don’t think I did. I hope to remember to tell the Doctor when she calls on the Wednesday after next. There are so many little things, extra, different things I’d like to recall and relate to the Doctor. But they drift off into the ether. Carer Joe should be here when she comes, so I think it’s important to keep him updated. As he might jog my memory or tell the Doctor himself. Is it likely to be more reliable than I can be? It was so good of him to move things about on his busy schedule, to fit me in to be here when the Doctor arrives. Thank’s Joe!

Looking at this photo, I’d guess what I’d had for nosh tonight or whenever. Possibly a boiled potato cut into cubes? Orange, red and yellow tomatoes. Pickled water chestnuts. Pickled mushrooms. Beetroots, red onion, and Marmite cheese. Cheesy topped bread rolls. The dessert might be a jelly & custard pot? What is on top of the potatoes and what was in the bread rolls will have to remain one of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.
How the heck can I not recall this meal? It looks delightful to me in this photo?
Ah, yes. As I’m still two days behind with the blogs, confusion is to be expected. Especially when I get distracted from my intended actions.
These are perfect examples of this; while draining the catheter pouch (three times in three days), I got distracted and either did not turn the valve off or only partly, in my rush to answer the phone, the intercom and the door chime. Resulting in more agitation when I realised that each time I’d got urine on my leg, socks and part filled the slipper. I ran out of slippers when I did it today! They are all in the wash with the pouch netting and socks. Then, a master risk! I had to get water from the kitchen sink into a bowl, disinfect it, and bring it to the main room to soak the feet. Having to dry them with paper towels using the picker-upperer. Bending down to get to the feet is a no-go. Just too painful on the knees and back and causes me to have dizziness. Which is best avoided. I think I’ve had two tumbles in two days caused by bending down. Hitting my forehead on the wet room sink each time, but I stayed upright at least; that is a blessing. Otherwise, the long crawl on all fours to get to the recliner to haul my body back up onto the feet is such a painful struggle. Arthur Itis, Little Inchie, the catheter tube pulling and causing bleeding… I’m moaning again, aren’t I? Shut up!

The short Mini Seizures took over.
Coming out of these, the confusion seemed well out of proportion. More than when I escaped the mammoth one?

I may have got things out of sync or repeated. Sorry.

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All The Bestest!
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Inchy: Medically-Miserablest-Monday 26th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Shouldn’t you ask for permission?
Beg for guidance and facilitation,
Don’t do it if you are a drunken…
Or you are easily dumbstrucken,
Guillotine, hang or electrification?
If you have a choice, which option?
A final world war or a global eruption?
Covid, starve, or in an explosion?
Physical and mental erosion?.
No more floccinaucinihilipilification,
Write your last poem, or feuilleton?
Your PM is a dishonest futilitarian!
He causes fear, death & a fustilarian.
Starmer is like a modern Gwydion…
Ever-searching for freebies, a guerdon.
Not a practical joker, more a gluon,
He’s no guilt, disowns, refuses humiliation,
Undercover Tory? We need confirmation!
Investigation, examination, interrogation,
I’d love to see him commit self-jugulation!
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A few evil spells today.
But in the afternoon, Anne Gyna eased off. Mind you, she returned when I got into bed. Tsk!
Still, you can’t win them all!

For about 70% of the day. I kept praying he’d sod off, but, needless to say, it didn’t work. I can’t understand why, though. The situation overall was significantly better than it had been in the last few days. There was nothing to indicate why Duncan stayed with me for so long, and deeply too. Baffled!
Late on in the evening freed me for an hour or two. Enough for me to cheer a little before finding blessed sleep. As it was, the interruption occurred when Ann Gyna returned, the coughing started, or the neurotransmitters shook me with such violence. But each time, I soon drifted of into the world of sweet Morpheus again. In fact, despite the most jump-awakes ever in a night, I think I got 6 hours sleep in. I just wish it had been of a bit better quality. Again, you can’t win them all.
Notes were sparse. I think there were some seizures over the day. Another oddity is that some days, I put a tick on the notepad when I know I’ve had one. The next day, when it comes to counting them, I either can’t believe the ticks on the pad were so numerous, or I am amazed to see so many.

Another memory-testing blank-filled day. Luckily, I took a few photos; some prompted me, and some confused me. Not much contentwise. Although some flooded back to me.

Carer Ejaz was as surprised as I was at the colour of the nocturnal urine.

Rubbish bags are made ready to go.

Tidied up the vital for the bladder catheter stock of spring water.

 I’m not sure, but I think this arrived today. I’d made a mess of naming the photo files, so you may have seen these before—or not.
Ah, Worcester-flavoured crisps!

Got on the computer.
My brain didn’t work at all.

?

Early meal.

Took a tumble while doing the ablutions.
I head-butted the sink again.
I’m getting good at this lately!

Carer Ejaz was surprised again.
Hahaha!
He took off the diabetic day socks.
And took these photos of me 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.
Then, the state of the legs while he put some
Phorpain gel on the lesions and barrier cream.
Do my legs look mishappen to you? Not complaining, though. They were far less aglow tonight.

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Doctor’s Next Thursday TTFNski
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I hope I can remember where it is?

Inchy Today: Satur’Rotten’day 24th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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This is a sort of disclaimer.
Defending my brain’s abductor,
My cerebrum needs a new alternator,
Today, full of Whoopsiedangleploppery…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Good Glory!
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
As I write this, it’s 16:00hrs, Sunday,
07:15, I mean on Saturday…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Thoughts gory!
Struggled with the Peripheral Neuropathy,
Arthritis and cartilage, bad in each knee,
Glaucoma was making things hard to see,
I cut my finger on the zester,
Porcelain Throne visits, never messier!
What people said would not register,
My catheter tap was left open, pathetically…
Slippers, socks, feet, carpet wet, you see?
Leg ulcers turned deep zaffre…
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
No one had time for a chat or natter…
What bit of hope I had began to wither,
I didn’t know if I was here, there or whether…
It was pouring with rain, a change in the weather,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan dawned,
No visits from High Horis, I felt scorned,
I got confused with the dates on the calendar,
The computer has a blue screen, whatsoever,
Each caller had a different Carer,
Lost without Carer Joe, he’s on holiday,
Fought against dates, mathematically,
My thoughts sadly went argumentatively,
And I was only talking to myself, sadly,
Then, I think you may agree…
I suffered catastrophe after catastrophe,
I washed the pots and put them away,
A Carer from the ICC,
Which naturally distracted me,
She left, I discovered, agonistically,
I’d left the tap running again. Glory be!
No ablutioning today as well, I can see!
Cleaning my togs first, carefully…
Rarely for this year, it was still rainy,
Then I tackled a job most risky…
The bowl of disinfected hot water…
To the main room, I had to porter,
No Accifauxpas, with that water,
Stuck my feet in the bowl, with anti-fungal,
But I forgot to fetch the towel…
So I dried off with some kitchen towel,
Went to empty the bowl in the in the WC,
Dropping it as I poured it into the toilet bowl,
I stubbed my toe, boy, did I howl!
I wanted to throw in the towel…
Instead, I made a brew…but I couldn’t find it. Nor my mobile!
Give up, swear, curse and growl,
Depression Duncan was invincible,
High Horis was absent or invisible…
Most of this is immaterial,
Bad-luck? I’ve had jugful…
I sank into a mental jungle,
My mind was in a twisted muddle,
Too many problems to juggle,
Life seems no longer manageable,
Everyday, more mishaps & trouble,
My brain & soul are no longer mutual,
My joints & bones are no longer malleable,
Problems not hideable or mothballable,
Cognitive Impairment, sanity not recuperable,
I’ve no slippers left because I’ve pee’d in them all,
Proving that I’m ever more adorkable,
I still feel that life nowadays is not workable…
I also seem to be growing more sulkable,
My thoughts & ideas are now circumstantial,
I sense I’m becoming somewhat augural,
In High Horis’s absence, I’m apoplectical,
I was once perceptible, & palopable,
Will Horis ever return? I’m still hopeful,
Gawd, that entity made me so cheerful,
Does this read all agathokakological?
With problems neurological & physical,
Seemingly ignored by anyone medical,
What chance? Is logic salveable?
Unobtainable, unreasonable, or unworkable?
Sorry, this may sound morbid, apocryphal,
It’s just that I’ve had a belly full,
Dementia, Incogniscence… are they…
mendable, rectifiable or even explainable?
I made a meal that looked rather eatable,
Unfortunately, in the morning, at half-past two,
I’d only been in bed for a minute, too!
Off again to the Porcelain Throne, I flew,
I had another ,
The evacuation started before it was due!
Much foul language was used, I can tell you,
It was unstoppable, smelly and impromptu,
More time lost, much cleaning up to do,
Arithmetic, I nowadays misconstrue,
But, did I enjoy my meat & potato stew!.

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Just had a short visit from!
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Today felt like anything go-wrongable went wrongable. Repeatedly.
My mind took a holiday.

Scribbled notes on the pad and a few photos triggered some memories.

04:20hrs: Removed the nocturnal catheter bag.
I Put the kettle on. Then, I soaked the socks in disinfectant from the urine mishap—how many times has that happened this week? I made up three waste bags. I put them near the front door, where they remained for two days with the following added ones. Could I remember to ask the caregivers to take them to the shute? No!
I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Tuesday.
By then, I’d overwritten the pictures taken as I got them all mixed up with each other. I must have lost at least a dozen photos! Self-hatred, stupidity, and a smidge of anger with myself.

Yet again, Unbelievable!
I was emptying the day bag, and the intercom rang; it was the Carer. As it seems habitual nowadays, I did not fully close the bleed valve on the catheter pouch.
More foul, self-cursing emanated.
Another high-risk activity is carrying a bowl of disinfected water to remove the pong of urine on my feet. Mind you, I’ve done it three times (not closing the valve and carrying water from the kitchen to the front room and back). No, I’ve done it four times this week. I ran the hot water tap cold six times. And I swore (Estimated) 12,456 times this week thus far. Only one more day left to increase these figures. (Which I can you now, I did!)

All my slippers are already in the laundry bag.
And with the Carer not putting on the diabetic socks, I walked the stink all over the rooms. I was not up to mopping, but I sprayed all the carpeting with a fabric freshener and the rooms with air spray. I still can’t find the small blue towel. But give me time. I’ve only been looking for it for two weeks. Untidy is the kindest word to describe the flat.

I think this photo might be from another previous day. Cause I can’t recall any prescription medications being delivered. Mind you, later on, when I got a phone call, the lady asked me why I had not attended the meeting with the neurologist at The Ropewalk. I felt silly asking where the Ropewalk was.
After cringingly apologising and thanking her for setting up a new emergency date for the examination (August 28th), I checked my calendar. There was nothing on there. .

Not sure about this photo either.

Or when this one was taken.
What day was it taken?

I went to get the much-needed ablutions done, but I needed to use the porcelain Throne first.

Morrison order. The photos have been overwritten—all of them! No, hang on. I’ll check to see if I put them in the wrong folder. I’d be daft enough to have…
Well, after searching, I could not find them in any file. I went on CorelDraw to download Tuesday’s files and realised I’d left the photos on the CorelDraw page. So, I had to change all the names and save them again to use here. I sense big cock-ups in the offing!
I found some snaps.
I think these were the right ones.
But…
They are, I’m nearly certain.
Well…

I had better stop here if I’m getting deeper into a quagmire of confusion with three days of blog photos and notes and the wrong days of events shared between the three. I think duplicity is a possibility for these three blogs. Sorry if this is so.

Many photos in the preview are different from those in the editor. I’m sorry again; I can’t find out why. If this continues, I’ll have to give up. Anger-Making!

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Friday 23rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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I may have left these evening shots of yesterday’s blog. I’m sure I didn’t put on all four!

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The first 3 taken to the left. The 4th to the right.
I found at least eight images in these.

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17:00hrs before I got around to stating this bloke.

A proper quicky.

05:00hrs up, nocturnal pouch off.

Mopped kitchen floor.

Ablutions & Medicationing where I could reach.

3 cuts shaving

I all but lost my balance getting the fresh PPs on.

Carer Ejaz arrived. We decided not to change the catheter bag, as we did last week on Sunday; it’s best to wait until then. So I can try to remember Fridays. I think I got that wrong. Ejaz got the medications issued and then put the diabetic sock on my legs.
He did a body check for new injuries or bruises and embarrassingly found some bruises on my… erm, er…
Well, my left buttock. He took a snap of them.

Odd looking?
Then he took a snap of the ankles
and leg ulcers. They appear to be
less severe this morning. Each ulcer
seems to have adopted a different
colour? The right one is almost
painless. Not the left one, though.
But they change daily.
Not like Starmer at all.
He is a permanent backhander
taker, fibber, greedy bully-boy,
more Conservative than the Tories.
the Labour leader, faux-pas,
imitation Prime Minister, dishonest,
but makes a grand dictator!
I got carried away there again. Sorry!

One Massive Seizure followed as I returned to semi-reality with a Mini-Seizure that returned me to La-La land.

NOSHTIME
Two cheesy-topped bread rolls filled with Marmite cheese, mature cheese spread, red onions and NZ butter. On the tray: pickled mushrooms and beetroot & new season tomatoes.Excellent Taste!

DANGER: WARNING REMINDERGRIM REAPERS, FARMERS, MOTHERS, 
PENSIONERS (If not yet killed by the cold),
AWAIT HOPEFULLY FOR HIS ASSASSINATION
The PSAA, Pensioners Still-Alive Association, 
membership is dwindling thanks to Starmer
stopping the fuel assistance will be holding a
mass prayer meeting at the Dog & Snuff pub in
Nottingham on June 4th. Any assassin fancying
taking on a new target is invited to attend.
Spencer Perceval (1762-1812): Served as Prime 
Minister from 1809 until his assassination.
Keir’s assassin will guarantee you fame & 
fortune. You’ll not be hung for doing it.
Starmer being as popular as he is, the
sentence might be up to five years.
If successful, the assassin will get 5% from
each of our members’ pensions in payment when 
released. And make us so grateful! Thanking you.
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It is now 17:35hrs tomorrow (Saturday).
I have yet to finalise this blog and get it sent off.
Let alone start on Saturdays. That’s going to be a right mess of a blog, too.
Saturday was… well, horrendous.
I thought today was bad enough. Two Tumbles. Accifauxpas. Hot water tap left on to run cold (Twice!). The catheter valve leaked all over my socks, slippers, and the carpet.
The third time this week! I’ve run out of slippers!
I must have had dozens of mini-seizures.
LIKE BEVER BEFORE
I cut my finger opening and a can of soup.
Flooded the kitchen.
I’m scribbling this to forewarn you in case it may sound gruesome when I finish (or even start) today’s blog—which it was! The main reason is that I made only a few notes on the reminder pad, so I may forget bits of the daymare. I can refer back to this blog if tomorrow I remember I wrote this.
I’m hoping that appears real soon. I’ve noticed he’s been reluctant to visit. Saturday was my third day without one of these heavenly mind-easing visits. He’s never been scarcer. Going from one extreme to the other gave me a sort of pleasure for however short a period. It was an out-of-this-world freedom from worry, a blessed take-it-as-is attitude. They were a paradisal, blissful and almost celestial. I didn’t like them at first because they felt so unreal, knowing the DDDDD would return. I did not appreciate at the time how my doubt would turn to love. Now, it seems like a lost love.
I’m sorry, Shakespeare! Please be aware that tomorrow’s (today’s) Saturday blog may not be in sync or readable, methinks. I’m sorry if so. 
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Have a Great Day!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 22nd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Yet another busy, busy day!
Today did it for me. I may miss some events, as there were many, some simultaneously. Community Nurse, Window cleaner, ICC Carer Company representatives, a welcome call from ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. DVT (Deep Vein Thrombosis) nurse. Then British Gas sent a chap to get me to sign up for a replacement electricity meter. I wouldn’t. After asking if they were sneaking in Smart-Meters on me, he said, “I don’t know!” It sounded to me like he’s been told not to tell us old farts about the replacement being a much-feared and most unwanted Smart-Meter! With the fortune they spend on advertising them on TV, customers still resist them three years after hearing about the problems that some poor devils are having and getting bills for thousands of pounds!
Still, I’d better press on, or I’ll never get it done by going off-track and waffling. After four glorious hours of sleep… (Yes, 01:00 > 05:00hrs!).
Sorted the catheter bags out.
I washed last night’s pots and mopped the kitchen floor. Then I turned on the kettle, responded to the churning innards, and went to the Porcelain Throne.
Trotsky Terence is back in charge. Cube-shaped soft turfs that were more green than Kharki this time. There was no pain and no blood. Which was good enough for me. I pondered whether I should shower and do the ablutions now or if a Carer would arrive while I was in there; I decided not to and went to make a brew of tea. !
I’d left the hot tap running, and all that time cleaning up after the soft cubes, the water was cold!

I thought it was a Carer who rang the intercom. But it was a chap from the chemist delivering the top-up prescription medications for me.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Issued the medications and put my socks on for me while I told him of the Blood machine thingy. He could see to read the instructions. I wish I could. Hehe! It seems that I’d done it correctly.

Made up some new templates for WordPress.

Window Cleaner. Costly!

Carer Mirza, nice lad.

Community Nurse checked my body for bruises.
Asked some questions. What about? Erm…

Physio Miguel arrived and stayed a good time with me. It was a helpful visit, with a Q&A and a full body check. Miguel checked my blood oxygen machine, and everything was in order. He’ll order me two none-pressure cushions, one for the 1968 tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner, the other for the computer chair. Bless him.
He’ll also arrange a physio to come and see what exercises I can do. (Argh! Hehehe!)

Carer Nagan did the next call.

Then, two staff from ICC Care arrived with a new swipe tab for the carers to use.

Blood pressure was high.

The overcharging and bullying BT, trying to get me to have a smart meter installed, sent a pleasant agent.
Leaving leaflets that are printed far too small for me to read. I asked if it was a smart meter they were trying to force on me. He said he didn’t know. Tommyrot! He just didn’t want to have to tell the truth that it would be a smart meter installed! Gnash!

I did an order with JS for next Tuesday. (I think).

Misra did the last call… no he didn’t… or did he?
I think it was Carer Rosma. Sorry.

Beautiful sunset caught just in time.

NOSHTIME!
Good enuf fer me!

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WORRA DAY!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 20th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>
Humankind leaves a lot of residue,
I’m not referring to their phoo,
Warmongers, murderers we can’t subdue,
The end of the world is well, overdo,
Remembering Twiggy, in knickers, see-through?
My mind and body can often go skew,
As can life, but what can we do?
Whatever happened to the segue?
Honest politicians? Gone, but whereunto?

Why the shortage of the drumbledrane?
Why do they free killers again and again,
Why does the NHS not use enflurane?
I waffle on, am I, or not inurbane?
Tablets issued for physical pain…
Codeine, Morphine and lidocaine,
Neuropathy and mental problems remain…
Making one live in the transmundane,
If it’s not a new pustule, boil, or blain…

No doubt about it, I’m an apologist,
Can’t remember, so I assumedly,
Did I say or do it? Memory, no access,
I stumble verbally, so awkwardly,
The seizures know no boundaries,
No wonder I act bizarrerie,
Still have glaucoma and blepharitis,
With whom do I argue and have a barney?
Mostly twixt my own brain and me!
I’m not the cleverest or blessedest,
Christened as a Primitive Methodist,
I have to go; I sense an incoming banshee!
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In and out again today.
No notes to use. I wrote the new Carer’s name and the Porcelain Throne performance and took photos of the food delivery.
Gawd, I live an exciting life.
I think I was out of it, more than with it today. Although fair does, around 17:00hrs, I got some visits from , and at last and then finally gave me a rest. Anne returned later on.
I think I’ve taken too many painkillers today. 
But I was in more pain than for ages.
Gawd, I live an exciting life.
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.
I woke up at about 0410 a.m. I changed the calendar clock and then turned on the kettle.


Took a morning view shot.

Then, I felt the innards rumbling. Hello, I thought this was going to be different. Convinced that Constipation-Conrad was preventing the wind from escaping. I poddled to the wet room. And a good job I did, too! Ruled the proceedings. The stinking, gooey evacuation was worse than ever today. Eurgh! Cleaning up took longer than passing the motion. I had a good wash and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of Glengettie. However, my attention strayed as I heard the sounds of fire engine klaxons. This is possibly one of the most extreme photos I’ve ever taken. So, different…
Yes, I got something wrong there, methinks!

I forgot about making the tea and started finishing yesterday’s blog. I was trying to get it done before the food delivery arrived. I was still doing it two hours later when the delivery arrived
I spent a while sorting the fodder out.
Blimey, how many carrier bags were here?.
I soon realised why. I’d ordered two weeks’ worth of spring water bottles (eight x 2-litre) and some crisps while they were on offer. (4 packs of five bags)

Nurses & Carers treats.
Bit of fresh kinds of stuff.
Naturally, Kung Po sauces.
Fridge
Freezer

CorelDraw was used for an hour or three.
I was making up blog date graphics. The new version will not let me save anything, so I’m on the last year. They usually use blackouts when a new one comes out to force us to buy the new one, and this happens every year.

Balnks for hours.
Total mystery what was going on.

Regretfully, as I thought I was returning to faux awareness as Carer Farone was here, I started the meal. I went back to the computer to find that CorelDraw had frozen. I had to turn it off by turning off the electricity. It took me ages to do it, and CorelDraw saved some of the changes, not others. I assumed I did them after the last save I made. Of course, with all this, I had to smell the burning meat in the oven to remember it was cooking in the oven. I had a few mini roast potatoes, so I popped some in the oven, which was already hot!
Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated.

Then Carer Ejaz arrived. I could not find the oven glove to turn the pots over, and he had little time to issue the medications for me. He had a mock look for the mysteriously missing oven glove. After the lad had gone, I had another every-room search for the missing glove of mystery.

Forgetting again about the food in the oven!
The potatoes joined the beef slices in the waste bin!
Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated. 

I had a bag of crisps and some nuts, followed by an iced sucker… I broke another tooth, ¾ of it! Seven missing teeth now, and just to add to the misery, & my gums were bleeding!
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Please don’t think I was swearing, spitting, cursing, feeling sorry for myself, depressed, annoyed, self-loathing, sick of bothering, or frustrated.
Mind you, I was!
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Why didn’t I get the nickname of ‘Lucky’?
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Inchy Today: Saturday 17th May 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

MORE A REMINDER THAN CARTOON
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STOP…
Stop, but don’t do nothing…
Think: Is humankind worth saving?
Who will do the adjudicating?
Whom can we trust for officiating?
Who will reveal the declaring?
Will we decide by voting?
The leaders we’ve been electing…
Oligarchs, criminals, always lying…
I find them greedy & mind-boggling,
He seems to enjoy pensioners dying?
<<<<>>>>>
When we bravely request a financial bequest,
We get a failed promise, a behest at best,
Do we vote for the least bloodthirstiest,
We settle for the best of the baddest,
We get Starmer, virtually, Labour’s baddest,
A right-winger, not a Socialist!
A taking backhanders specialist,
Who looks after his own spondulicks,
As lying PMs go, he’s the stealthiest,
Maybe he appeals to schizophrenics.
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Compassion? He hasn’t got the remotest,
Wars, hostages? He’s not worth a sausage,
He’s got his nuclear shelter radiologist,
Is earth worth saving in retrospect,
To be honest, I’ve not got the remotest,
Did you hear of the upcoming protest?
Calls for a national strike from communists,
If it’s all peaceful, I won’t object,
I liked Boris, although the slaphappiest,
Starmer? The Unsincerest!
<<<<>>>>>
Can you believe Keir’s not even prosecutable?
He’s even not at all arrestable!
No chance of him being imprisonable,
He’s sacrosanct; after lying to get electable,
Takes backhanders; what a spectacle…
Clothes, cinema, tickets for Arsenal,
He’s made himself impregnable…
Other MPs’ crimes make them blackmailable,
Yet his crimes are irrefutable!
His greed & dishonesty are kenspeckle!
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A minimal in the extreme blog today

LAST NIGHT….
Early yesterday evening, to add to the crazy seizure and Ann Gyna popping into the equation, I got the same as I did last Saturday night.
A deep tiredness, depression and, most annoyingly at the time, kicked off for the first time since last Saturday. I nodded off to sleep in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, even with and both giving me attention and waking me up every so often, I soon got back into bliss.
Carer Joe woke me up. 
I was so wee’d-off. I couldn’t help it.
Within minutes of his departure, I nodded off again.
Mysteriously, but it suited me; never twitched again. And eased off tremendously. And I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of the old days. Two hours later, Carer Ejaz woke me. 
I WAILED WITH FRUSTRATION.
Poor Ejaz thought I was getting at him. It’s hard to explain how things can be with my conditions, and I felt guilty about the misunderstanding.
Once Ejaz departed, I felt tired and could not get back to sleep. I tried the usual: I put the TV on. Even that failed. After another fruitless hour of trying my best, I finished yesterday’s blog and started this one. 
Around 04:30hrs, I felt I could get some sleep. But needed to utilise the . 
As I got up, the pain from the catheter tube in Little Inchy, now leaning to the left, was agony!

I hobbled to the wet room and got myself seated. The nasal juices flowed, and it took me ages to painfully encourage the controlled evacuation to begin. A little bleeding from . I emptied the pouch into a jug for the Carer to evaluate. Then, I tackled moving the tubing and straps on the catheter in the vain hope of easing the pain. I decided to get the done, being as I was up.
Shaved first. It is not usually recommended when I feel so tired. But, foolishly, I carried on. I amassed four nicks and foolishly . 
Wish I’d taken Kodak Tim 2 with me now. The sink reminded me of, erm… Psycho, I think. Haha!

Orifices scrubbed up and dried.


All the usual. Eye drops & sprays Little Inchies Lesion, 
Another failed go at getting the catheter contraption tube & straps less painful. 
Barrier creamed where I could reach.

I was back on the computer, fell asleep, and crumpled to the floor, landing on my left knee—now the tube and straps are even more painful.
Clamboured up using the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. And thought I’d stay there and get some sleep at long, long last.

That lasted a minute or so, and the landline telephone chirped up. All I could hear was some music? No idea who it was.

Carer Ejaz came in. Well, after I’d unlocked the door, I forgot to do it with the ablutions and Meds performance. A good-looking lad, he was getting some medications out of the prescription drawer in the kitchen.

I’m so tired out. Continues her milder attackd. She’s getting around a bit today. I’m unsure what happened in detail, but the worn-outness and fatigue returned just like last weekend? 
Why only at weekends?
Fell asleep, Carer woke me up.
Put TV on to watch the highlight of the day.
Fantastic Result!
A WARM SMUGNESS FELT!
My hatred of Manchester City is only beaten by my Hatred of Chelsea. Naturally, my loathing of Herr Keir ‘Pensioner-Killer’ Starmer outdoes them both.
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I then proceeded to fall asleep again.
Woken by the Carer. Mizra. Who, I recall, barrier-creamed both ankles. Painkillers were given to counter the almost persistent and graded the urine for me.

I then did some work catching up on this blog.
Before getting the meal, I prepared it earlier and put it in the fridge.
Delicious!
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– – Cheers! – –
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 13th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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SMUG-MODE ENGAGED
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Thinking!
Thinking back, I began to hallucinate,
Here, giving me a cuddle, was Auntie Kate,
I guess I beginning, starting to levitate…
Floating back in time, young again, lanate,
Grizelda began to maxilate…
Fondle, hugging me, & to mussitate,
We did things considered misappropriate,
Guilt? I no longer felt, nor was I novitiate,
Freedom, my thoughts no longer obdurate,
Physical ailments began to obfuscate,
Gawd, this illusion is super-great!
Am I dead? A ghost, or maybe a wraith?

Am I being given a forecast or a prophecy?
Am I dead or alive? I viewed this whimsically,
May I be en route to see St. Peter?
I’ve paid my debts! Rent or electricity,
Why do I sense that I’m feeling guilty?
Is this a dream, a seizure or a Whoopsie?
Griselda is still toying pleasurably with me,
I no longer feel elderly, tired or weary!
Under my bed is now a guzzunder,
I’ve not seen one of these since 1953,
What year is it? I don’t feel at all distressingly?
The sky and globe have turned all yellowy…
Opaque, angels, pink clouds, worryingly…
St. Peter has not yet greeted me!

Am I getting sillier? I feel more cheerier!
Is this an end-of-life bamboozler?
Wherever I am, it feels cosier,
I suppose it should, being free of Starmer?
Yes, I must have died; I’ve never been happier,
Oh, here’s a transparent cheerleader…
Glittering eyes, big bust, much curvature,
Ah, she’s just been attacked by Grizelda,
Maybe because she gave me a sly twire?
Heaven or Hell, I feel much toeier…
No bother from Gladys Glaucoma,
Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder or Anne Gyna,
Grizelda’s back, with handcuffs and a tether…
Prompting movement in the tallywhacker!

Well, I’m interested and acquiescing,
A billion-long queue of souls is forming,
Grizelda & me at the end, that’s galling,
It’s for St. Peter’s gate, I’m assuming,
For questioning and allocating…
Heaven or Hell’s door selecting?
Grizzly said, there’s a third door we might be using!
I asked for what? This is so confusing,
That’s for souls picked to be returning…
The answer was more than terrifying,
Sent back to earth, that’ll be intimidating!
For those chosen, Starmer will be waiting,
Still be cheating, lying, stealing & killing…
I suddenly came out of my daydreaming,
Starmer is still in power; it’s heartbreaking!
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This morning, I kept waking up at 04:00hrs.
Repeated this action endless times before nodding off again into a deep sleep.
I was woken up at about 07:30hrs. By Carer Ejaz. Who told me it had taken him about ten minutes to wake me up! I swiftly fell asleep again. Ejaz was concerned when I sat up and grabbed my lower belly in response to aches and pains. None were awful, but they remained for a few hours after Ejaz had gone. 
As Ejaz was issuing the medications, apparently, I nodded off again! 
I did not move from the bed during Ejaz’s visit. He removed the nocturnal catheter bag and applied Barrier cream to the leg-strapping wounds. They were much less bothersome and painful this morning. Being in bed for such a long time made the base of my sternum far more sore than it was yesterday, but the wounds looked better. Ejaz took this photo of the catheter contraption for me. I got the diabetic socks put on for me. Ejaz lost some time with having to rouse me. And I had to shoot off; I’d not moved during his visit.

When Ejaz left, I fell asleep yet again! Hence, there was little time to catch up or much photographicalisation today.

When I finally gingerly got up on my feet, my stomach ache steadily improved. But my concentration was not good at all.

I got on the computer, and the catheter pouch filled shortly after. When I went to empty it, the tube on the release valve was not there, making many messy emptyings throughout the day. I searched the flat, thinking it must have come off when Ejaz emptied it. He usually does not take it off. Sometimes, he’ll put it on. After failing to find the tube, I thought he might have pulled it off when he removed the nocturnal bag. He then put it in the kitchen rubbish bag, which has since been put down the waste chute. So, I’ll struggle on. Let’s face it, I’m good at struggling. Hehehe!

I was prepping to get today’s Ode started. But feeling better in myself now. Then…
I found I’d left the damned hot water tap running again. How many times in two days? Three, I think!

A massive vagueness overcame me. It stayed visiting me until about 16:00hrs. It was in full flow when Carer Joe called around 13:15hrs. I’m unsure what we spoke about other than Joe’s plans to start sorting the clothes in the junk room tomorrow. So, maybe there will not be a blog for tomorrow, for the first time since I was in hospital in 2007. I think, but thinking is no longer a strong point for me. Hehe!

I took this snap on the left from the kitchenette window. I remembered to cause
I knocked a jar of mushroom ketchup off the window ledge, and it landed on my . 
Not that it bothered me at all. I merely laughed it off and started singing to myself.
Then, I took another memory, prompting a snap of my beloved tree copse. I may have used the wrong photo here, or the computer posted the wrong one? Anyway, taking this snap hurt me more than the toe incident.

Then I realised that the sun covering Khagoule had fallen into the water jug on the floor.
So, I had to hang it on the shower curtain in the wet room to help it dry out. I also turned on the heater to encourage it to dry.

I visited the Porcelain Throne as well. Trotsky Terence was in control.
It was a messy job that took a long time because there was no hot water. Did I mention I’d left the hot tap running earlier?

The sun died temporarily while I was fetching water from the kettle, and walking with the walking stick was a bit risky.

I got some potatoes into the slow cooker that I forgot to tell you about earlier. 08:00hrs approximately) There are no secrets on this WordPress blog, Inchy Today!

I’m back on this blog after checking, updating and posting yesterday’s post to WordPress. Then, I started on this post.

I’ll check the potatoes. This is going to be a long job. Turn them (if ready), put them in the basin, bash them up, add no-butter butter, sea salt, Worcestershire, and Soy sauce, and then the tricky bit: grate and mix in Leicester cheese. Put the mixture in the oven and cook until the top has crispened. Prep[ping took me 35 minutes, and the washing things up after took me over half an hour.
I pray I don’t let them burn… Please!

It took me hours to get the potatoes sorted and mashed with the shredded Leicester cheese and red onions. I found evidence in the morning, blood on the fridge door that indicated a cut thumb or fingernail) I washed the pots and put the dish into the oven to crisp it up nicely. This usually takes a good half-hour. Here it is before cooking.
Carer Joe arrived as I was putting it in.
Medications issued. Joe said we would start sorting out tomorrow in the junk room. He’ll take the laundry down to the washer, come back, and we can sort the clothes out. This will free up many coat hangers. Because there are so many trousers, jumpers, shirts, and coats that no longer fit me. They don’t call me Mr Blobby for no reason, you know. Haha! He should have time to nip down, get the laundry in the dryer, and dry it for once. Joe’s got it all organised beforehand, which is a great help.

The potatoes were removed from the oven and put on a tray with some bread. I added some cut tomatoes, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV to eat the meal.
It took me a while to eat it all, but I did!
Then, heaven… Zzz!
Carer Ejaz woke me up two hours later.
He removed my diabetic socks and mended the nocturnal catheter-damaged day bag. He also added a tube from another point to the current one. I checked the kitchen and bathroom and got my head down, but I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter pouch on. It’s hard to believe, I know.

So, when I was woken up by the pain from poor Little Inchie being tugged on with the weight as the pouch filled up, I had to get up to empty the pouch post-haste. Could I get back to sleep? No! 

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But it didn’t Bother Me, Hehe!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 30th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Our intentions may well be admirable,
But are they needed and desirable?
If they happen to be altruistical?
Are the benefits given physical or ethereal?
Endurable, sustaining or apothegmatical?
Will this incite the recipient to turn greedful?
I don’t want to appear hyperbolical,
After all, I’m fallible and infeasible,
Arguing over things, possibly mental,
fear of numbers, I love anything anecdotal,
Still working out the meaning of biopsychosocial,
Calculations and maths, to me, are cryptical,
Logic, commonsense, I often find chimerical.
Seizures can sometimes make me feel extrinsical,
Leaving me feeling depressed and inimicable,
Things I did 78 years ago are now unfathomable.
I’m not a part, essential, or even integral…
An unmoving nomad, innate, incognoscible, 
When Happy Horis visits, I get incorrigible…
If Depressing Duncan returns, then I feel terrible!
It’s only with me that I get argumental,
Obviously, we don’t need to go all aetiological,
It’s a practicality to be commonsensical,
Seek for the localised idiosyncratical,
Things may not become clear or irenical,
No need to search for the inexplicable,
Don’t spend valuable time on the impenetrable.
Remember, we are not powerful or juridical…
If baffled, then make yourself a foxhole.
Still don’t understand? That’s fantasmagorical,
Still struggling, I’ll write you another oracle!
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Another busy, confusing day for the old groat! 
Carer ‘Joe’ did two calls, and Carer Ejaz did the other two. Phone calls from Matron and Nurse June. Nurse Helen told me to make an appointment, as requested by the Doctor, to see her. I hope to get one for on Wednesday, then Carer ‘Joe’ can accompany me. Asked him to ring surgery tomorrow afternoon if he does the afternoon call tomorrow. 
Made a few cock-ups again. I believe it’s the arithmaphobia that caused most of them.
Ejaz took some snaps for me today of the outdoors. He noticed I’d got the micro-shakes. Bless him. 
Carer ‘Joe’ & Ejaz both helped me out last and this week. And with all the action from the medical front, you wouldn’t believe how appreciative I feel. Fair enough, I’m still with it enough to feel embarrassed at not being able to do things for myself. 
As I pointed out earlier, I believe the issue with the battery delivery and the microwave meal delivery was due to dates, times, and numbers. 
But were they? I think so; I experienced three waves of panic over the last two days as I misread or misunderstood the most straightforward advice and instructional details. Arithmaphobia?
I’ve been meaning to look up Ménière’s disease, the condition the nurse mentioned.
But have I done it yet? No!
To date, I have confirmed some appointments.
The four-wheeled walker is expected to arrive on Friday. Followed by a BRCCS Technician to sort it out and point out handling and safety features.
In abeyance, waiting for confirmation of the visit to the doctor next Wednesday or a later Wednesday so I can go with Carer ‘Joe’, who is aware of my actions and can explain things to me as they are.
On the 15th May. Nickie to do a walker assessment.
On the 23rd, Physio from Manuel.
Awaiting appointment for the Glaucoma lasering.
I’ve missed it on my calendar, but Nurse Caroline is coming to conduct the Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment assessment. Alternatively, I need to go to Nuthall Hospital to have it done. But when?
Nurse June rang, but I can’t remember what it was about. Thanks to a seizure, things did not register. At least, I think that’s why. Just photos from here on with what I can recall of them. The earlier ones hold a more explicit memory.

My morning shot before going to the wet room.

Things went okay, I think. One cut shaving
Medicating was easier this morning because I only had to do about half of them, and the intercom chimed out. Naturally, I went back into the wet room and continued dressing without medicating.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He barrier-creamed the ankles, which looked a little more likely to erupt into seeping from . Ejaz took some shots from the kitchen window for me.
Bluey blotches on this one?
Great shot, Ejaz!
Nice one. Is that smoke I see?

Blogging. It took me hours and hours, and I was still nowhere near catching up. Huh!

Mystery afternoon, and I don’t know why?

Ejaz evening call shots were taken for me.

I prepared a mixture of food and placed it in a microwavable container. Later, when I decided to add some mini-roast potatoes, there would be no room in the dish. So, while the spuds were cooking in the oven, I transferred the mix to a larger dish to use in the microwave. In the mixture went a can of vegetable curry, a ready meal of beef in black bean sauce, garden peas, water chestnuts, carrots and some extra Bisto gravy.
Lip-licking luxury!

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Have a Great Day!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 29th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Today, Three Nurses 
With one hearing aid battery being a no-go.
Communicating and hearing was like an echo,
5 hours of visits, blogging went on a furlough,
Lots not done. Showering I had to forego,
One nurse checked me from head to toe!
Nothing on underneath my Kimono,
She was kind enough not to laugh, though,
BP was taken, all good, bar my temp a bit low, 
All asked questions, a mental inferno,
Matron identified I’d now got impetigo,
One entered an area where few do go!
Appointments made to see a medico,
Arranged a visit from the Physio,
Neurology & Mental, I like it, I know…
Walker & wheelchair coming, out I can go!
Feeling cared about is totally Whack-O!
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WHAT A FLIPPING DAY
AGAIN!
A Quick rundown.
With the few photos taken interspersed.

Before the mayhem started
A six-rated night pouch.

Seconds after taking this snap, dizziness and a sudden loss of balance hit me. (No idea what brought it on) It was still with me when Carer Ejaz arrived. 
I tried to explain to him how I felt. I’m not sure if he understood me or if I comprehended what he was he was saying to me.
He’s a likeable lad, though. He got the prescription medications issued. Then, he fitted my diabetic socks. Ejaz rated the pouch-urine a 6, and then he hoovered the carpet a bit. Ejaz came up with a logical idea as to why I felt so distant, maybe because I’d been having a nocturnal seizure before getting up. A clever idea that was from the lad. On leaving, as per usual, we swapped a bit of Nottinghamian language between us, both saying ‘Tara!’.

I got on the computer to start updating yesterday’s blog. It was a bit of a slog, as I still felt oddly disoriented and confused.

I’d forgotten or failed to remember (Hehe!) that the JS food order was arriving early today. (Fancy that!)
Got the fridge stuff sorted.
Then, the freezer
Refilled the nibble boxes.
And the drinkies
Protection pads, kitchen towels, Bovril cubes, Maryland Vegan cookies, Kung Po sauce, a can of garden peas, and, to my delight, a loaf of my beloved Milk Roll sliced bread! 

Putting the things away, I heard a clatter; something had fallen down between the cooker and cabinet.
I couldn’t see what, or where, it had fallen. So, I took a photo with the flash on of the gap. It turned out to be the spyglass that I had tried to clean last week, which I had filled with a mixture of bleach and water. I utilised the picker-upperer to retrieve the magnifier.
That spyglass is not having a lot of luck, is it?
I’m not either, it had broken!

The sun came out strongly, and I hung the thin dressing gown up on the curtainless rail.Ten minutes later, I took a photo of this snap through the window. Looking suddenly bleak?
Ten more minutes later.
The sun broke through again.

THE INTERCOM RANG
A nurse was on screen, and she shouted, “It’s the Nurse,” And the screen shut down. Thinking this may be a nurse calling about the seizures I’m having. I made my way out to the lift, as I’d never seen this nurse before. To greet her as she exits the lift and show her to the flat. Alway’s a gentleman. Hehe! I waited about half an hour. However, the nurse never made it to the flat.

I had another blast on the blog. I haven’t done much, and I had a feeling things weren’t going to! 

Nurse Jane arrived from the… It’s a long name: The Community Rehabilitation, Falls, and Service for a  Physiotherapy and Occupational Therapy Assessment Session. Questions and answers. 

As she left, Matron Jackie Arrived.
A deep question-and-answer session. 
I’ll cover both of the Angel, Mainly because I can’t remember which said what. I’ll use Angel to cover Matron Jackie or Nurse Jane, as I got confused about which one asked what and the advice given.
Jane took my blood pressure, including systolic and diastolic readings, Pulse, and temperature, after reviewing the record list on my Excel sheet. I mentioned how they had been a lot better over the last two weeks.
Angel said she would ring the doctor and ask for me to be referred to a specialist about the seizures. (If indeed they are seizures). They will get me a four-wheeled walker and try to encourage me to walk more. Referred me to a physiotherapist.
The Angels asked me about the seizures and the nature of the falls I’ve had. I couldn’t answer many of the questions on this subject, but I did tell them that falls have caused these after-effects, or rather, I corrected myself that the after-effects have caused falls. Loss of balance and giddiness may occur at varying intervals after each seizure. The matron called ICC, ‘Intercity Care Company’, and asked if Carer ‘Joe’, whom I had praised to her, could ring her when he got the chance. Angel said she is going to see if extra hours can be found to get the Carers to tend to my ablution sessions. Hmm?

Carer ‘Joe’ did the evening call.
I’ve still not done the ode yet!
Might have to make it a short one. But, as you may have noticed, I do get carried with them. Hehe!
He told me he’d rang Matron Jackie. Who told ‘Carer Joe’ that the wheelchair would arrive shortly?

I love it being cared for and about! 🌼🧡

I set about cooking the beef and vegetable stew in the microwave. I had everything prepared earlier and put it in the fridge, ready to go.

UPDATE as of 16:40hrs Tomorrow, Wednesday!
So far behind again. A small price to pay for the Angels who tended to me. 💗

THE MEAL
Beef and black bean ready-made meal, with a can of minced beef, flavoured with Marmite and Bisto.
I added a can of garden peas, some pickled water chestnuts and chickpeas from the fridge.
Very Nice!

Put the TV on to watch Heartbeat and had an ice cream cornetto. As I drifted off during the adverts, the mobile chirped. A message telling me the Amazon battery order was 8 stops away from me. Needless to say, I’d forgotten all about it. Tsk!

I checked on the tracker and thought the red disc indicated that it was outside the flats.
A semi-panic visited me. Amazon is infamous for leaving ordered goods downstairs in the ground-floor lobby to be stolen. So, I went down to have a look, but nothing was there. I dare not go out to look, as I had put on my slippers and Montsuki and forgotten to take the flat key with me, which has the fob on it, to get back inside the block of flats. I was nervous about leaving the lobby, thinking the delivery would arrive if I went back up to the flat.
SAVIOUR OF THE PROBLEM!
Carer Ejaz turned up. He waited for the van while I hobbled up to the flat to check in case Amazon had told me via email that it had been delivered.
WOT A PLONKER, I AM!
The tracker told me it was still eight drops away. Then I realised I’d looked at the red circle, which is where I live, a green one was where the van was!
How I got that wrong really annoyed me!
I went back down to Ejaz, who had kindly waited downstairs to collect the batteries, and then returned to the flat.
Minutes later, Saviour Ejazz came in with the batteries. Now, I can retake photos and get the clock powered up in the morning. Ejaz put the night bag on the bed and removed my diabetic socks. I had to reheat the leftovers of the meal later. Gave me some requested Peptac. Then he gave me a body check-over, barrier creaming my bottom, man breasts all around, my belly and both ankles that he thought were looking worse than yesterday. Bless Him. 

I finished of the rewarmed big bowl of fodder.
I’d missed the Heartbeats again. However, I found a documentary about the 1940s and the war on a channel with subtitles.
Carer ‘Joe’ made the last call. Another gem here. He tends to understand my problems, and we had a little chat, and off he poddled back to his other half.

I may have to curb my blogging soon, as I have two more appointments this week and three next week already. Physio, the Doctor. Rehabilitation is then followed by the Disabled checks. A 4-wheeled walker and wheelchair are arriving, one tomorrow. Someone to go through the hospital beds functions with me. I am awaiting confirmation of the Audio Clinic, Glaucoma, and Neurology appointments.
As if it wasn’t hectic enough now! Hahaha!

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Struggling, but hoping – I think, Hehehe!
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