Warfarin INR blood level test

Inchie: Tuesday 10th March 2026

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Despite the last five days of mayhem, despair and failures, I lay there in the bed and almost slightly felt hopeful that the day would be a better one. It helped, no doubt, that bothersome Back-Pain-Brenda was AWOL. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was trying to make up for that, as best she could. I removed the nocturnal catcher pouch and stood to do the morning balance exercises and assessments, and the door chime chimed. Good heavens, it was gone 08:00hrs! I did get to bed late, but I still got a decent, not broken often, five hours in.

Ejaz got the medications sorted out, foamed and creamed the toes and ankles, and again, they seemed better than the day before. But not the right leg, that seems to have accrued the oddest-looking batch of new marks, scars, spots and pimples. Almost artistic, really. Hahaha! I think the yellow streaks down the leg were due to my leaving the flash on for Kodak Tim 2. Ejaz told me that the new Carer time will be increased. But I’d forgotten the day he gave me. I’ll check later. As he trotted off, a food delivery arrived. Ejaz took the bags through to the kitchen, then the lad had to fly. Bless him.

I got on the computer to find the meal shot for last night… well, this morning had not been added, so here it is.
Soft cheese on soft white bread, Anya, knobbly potatoes. Imitation fish sticks and some tomatoes. The fries were too hard to eat, but I soon gobbled up the rest of the meal. Nice!

I thought I heard something drop from the kitchen, and went in to investigate. All seemed okay, and I got Kodak Tim-2 again and took some snaps of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I think I made another error with the last one. It came out, as you can see, totally different to the first two. Part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again! I must ask Tim Price about this phenomenon with the last snap.

A while later, I nipped out to take a picture of the end car park on Citrus Way. Did okay with this effort. Caught the sun coming down from Mapperley, high above. No mudslide on the ground this morning.

I phoned Jenny to see if I could take down some of the delivered food and treats. She mentioned that she’s read my blog, noticed that I have a wheelchair I’m not using, and asked if she could give it to a resident in need. No problem, and I got it readied for Frank to collect it later. I took two rubbish bags to the chute. Then I took down the carrier and left it outside her door, with the nibbles inside.

Frank came up to collect the wheelchair, and I showed him what I know about it, brakes for the person in the chair and the pusher, and where they were. I checked that they were all operative, working okay.

Back on the computer, CorelDraw seemed to be behaving itself, but I’m still nervous for later.

Got the day’s Ode completed. Then found a plastic envelope on the hallway carpet. It must have fallen out of the wheelchair as we struggled to get it out of the door earlier. Two stick-on reflectors. I rang Jenny to let her know. She is coming tomorrow to see Ejaz about her old mobile that she is giving me, and to get it set up, bless her cotton socks. 🌸 She said she’d collect them then.

I found a couple of many years-old photos from when I had the stroke.
The first one is at the Nottingham City Hospital, Newell ASU Unit. Where they gave me Cloperdoggerel, and the state you see my legs in was from this. They discovered I was allergic to the drugs in it. Or the Clopidogrel mixture. Sister Jane took the photo during her visit. 
Then to the Oaks Care Home for a couple of months. I took the mass of get-well cards with me, all three of them. The memories of this place linger Today. This is what put me off the idea of going into one at first. A few true tales of events; ine I cannot mention, cause after the knife attack, they deemed it best not to get the police involved.
Mornings: The door would burst open, “Let’s have you up, get a wash and dressed.” Later, a loud thump or two on the door, and sometimes the door opened, and a voice would shout, “BREAKFAST IN TEN MINUTES, don’t be late!”
Weekly: Ah, the laundry, I lost a cardigan, a hat, two T-shirts, four underpants, and ended up with five odd socks. When my scarf was not returned, I bravely mentioned it to the lady who was making a right mess of putting on my leg straps, but got no answer. Then spotted a Carer in the hallway and asked if my scarf had been found. “No!” I thanked her. That night in the dining room, I sat down and saw a resident wearing a scarf similar to the one I had lost. I said nothing. Oh, I nearly forgot: one day I got the laundry back with two odd socks… my hat was missing, and as a bonus of two pink brassieres!
Tea: Thud, door opens: I once had the temerity to ask what it was. “Hot Dog!” I got down to find it was just that. A stale roll with a frankfurter in it. Nothing else, while those around me got chips, ketchup and bread.
Dinner: Thud, clunk. “Dinner in ten minutes, don’t be late.” I got down as fast as I could, but on two occasions, being new, it seemed they thought I was a visitor and got no food at all! (True!)
I made the mistake of trying to talk to the resident in the community room; just once was enough.
I asked him something like, £have you been in here long?” I got fired back at me; “I’m trying to watch the FΧπψϖϒing TV!” I sarcastically gave the staff some treats when I left, overdoing it by saying, “I like to thank you all for the great care given to me!” I waited a few seconds, then gave them all the odd socks I’d got back from the laundry; “If the others ever come back to life, or are found, you can keep these, and match them up!” My intended mockery was wasted. All I got back from any of them, well, one of them was… “Oh! Cheers!” as he opened the box of Roses and handed them around. I just had a sinking feeling… what if they decide I have to go into a home and pick this one?
I’ll be in reet-schnook then!
Then there was this photo of the Geriatric Unit, from last November’s tumble-rumble. They diagnosed me with water on the brain, Hydrocephalus (NPH). Last week, I mentioned it to the nurse and was told I didn’t have that; I’d had a small TBI in the brain. They can do nothing about it. That explains why I’ve been waiting for the trephination operation. At least I won’t need that now, and that’s why no one got in touch. Hehe!
That’s put my mind at rest.

I cracked on with the blog for a couple of hours, guzzling the mineral water like it was an elixir.
When I stood up, I recall at first thinking to myself, well, talking to me as well; ‘Well, your balance is better now, mate! Then the Catheter pouch dropped down, giving Little Inchie a surprising tug! By gum, it had filled up sharpish near the 300ml mark on the bag. I emptied it and disinfected.

I rang Jenny to ask if I could bring the stick-on reflectors to her flat. There was something we spoke about, something else, I think. But the brain is not at its best late in the day. Jenny will be calling tomorrow with the mobile phone and said she’d collect the reflectors then.
I poddled to the kitchenette and snapped a few more reasonable photographicalisations of the wild-looking clouds. They gave me the impression that they were not happy. Wonder if we’ll get a sunset view later?

Ejaz was a little quiet and unresponsive to my natterings. I hope he’s going to be alright, and not worrying about something. He should be better in the morning, when he meets with Jenny, and maybe Frank, too. We need his mobile phone skills. I can’t cope with the one I’ve got, and that has no internet on it. An easy-to-use product for the elderly, it said. Ejaz, Joe, Akram, and Mirzra have all tried to get a ringtone on the phone. And failed, what chance have I? Zilch comes to mind. 

As I went to get the kettle on for the first brew of the day, I just had to take more snaps of the clouds. This first one was as wide as I could get on Koah Tim-2. Then I tried a close-up shot. To me, this is a paralania delight. The sun is doing its best to burst through the gap in the multi-shaded clouds. I saw a creature’s head, a whale shape and a ghost in this like photographicalisation. I’ll keep looking in case it changes again.

I tested the potatoes cooking in the slow cooker…
Trapped my hand in the drawer while getting the spoon. But no problem, it’s still looking good.
It’s only physical pain, I’m good with that – it’s the mental pains of existence that get to me.
Did I just write that? Good stuff  !

I’d forgotten to vlean mt teeth. So off I went to the wet room and used the new soft toothbrush. Ejaz came and went ikn with me. We didn’t half laugh when we looked at the box. It had two brushes in it. They were for children to use. With an old-fashioned sucker on them, to stick it on Porcelain. Hehe!

Boy, the clouds are getting scary in a way.
I think these could be used as a cover for a horror story. Depict the lack of control, mortals have to change the inevitable?
An ever-lurking threat to humanity?
I might use one of them as an Ode leader graphic?
I know, an Ode to the influence cast by 21st century politicians & Oligarchs Today?

I think Today was my best one for months.
The feeling I had when I woke up must have come from my EQ, possibly?

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TTFN
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Inchie: Friday12th December 2025:

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Each day brings new challenges: Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, Seizures, Errors, Mistakes, and of course, Failures and Depression.
This has to be coped with, I know this.
It’s possible to accept these daily trials, because I also know there is no way of changing things. Docile-Subserviency is my only defence, well, it’s not even that really. There is no protection, no shield from lousy luck. One option, I suppose, is to go crazy… mind you, I’m on my way there now. 
You could not write a fictional diary with so much bad luck as I suffer diurnally in real life. There’s an element of humour within this tale of woe. I can’t find it yet, thought. But it’s there, maybe conjured from within my watered brain, Dementia Doreen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, or my previously famed resistance to depression. But of course, I can ask them for guidance, but getting a reply is a bit hopeful. Hehe!
However, silly as it may sound, I think there is a better chance of getting an answer from these ailments than from Social Services. I was going to get help with the wheelchair problems, my computer problems, my financial problems, water on the brain problems and Neurological assessment and treatments… none have arrived yet. Still, I may live long enough for just the odd one to come? Which one would I like it to be? 
Erm… well, perhaps, or not, maybe… anyone would be of help. Chances of getting any? Zilch comes to mind. But, you never know, I might get surprised?
On the other hand, my recent medical history says none, with a loud inner voice. Shame!
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Woke at 04:55hrs. Night bag removed, and into the wetroom for a stand-up body scrum, teggies, a shave, this did not take place, then some medicationalisationing of my inner and outer extremities. Totally, at that time, I got dressed and went into the kitchen to take some shots of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. Again, hoping to take a decent one at least.
The second was better.
Got on the computer, but ran into complications again. From MS Word, CorelDraw and Google. No idea why things were acting up like they were. So many aspects were misfiring. Space bar not working, then came on again. CorelDraw froze. I got a message from MS re: Excel, but could not grasp the technicalities, so closed the window and then all the others and left it for a while before trying to boot again. Went to make a brew, returned and reset the calendar clock, and gingerly, but hopefully, turned the computer on. Nothing happened? The lights were lit? I meandered back to the kitchen in the full grip of .
I took this snap of the slowly lightening sky. It was not a bad one this time. Compared to what my one eye saw and how the picture turned out. To say I was feeling so low and in a fair degree of depression, I noted this. I reckon I was convinced the computer had thrown in the towel, angry at all the failed promises of help that never arrived, and had resigned myself to it. Back to the computer and turned it on. This time, noticing the external drive thingamajig was flashing away at a fair pace. Took a snap of it, I’ve not got the foggiest idea why. The computer booted up, and the working light continued. I think it might be MS Excel and Word updating something? I waited 30 minutes for the flashing to stop, then opened Google and CorelDRAW. Ah, that’s better, things seem to be working correctly, well, as near to properly as one can expect from bug-ridden, overcharging CorelDraw. My attention was interrupted by a text message on my mobile phone. Ah, hopefully that will be the night catheters ordered by my Carer last Wednesday. (It was).
I was tickled pink when the computer came on again and had a visit from . Which proved enjoyable and rid me of worry. But also this rare but welcome ‘Sod-Em-All’ sensation that comes with Horis’s attendance, caused me to wander off the plot, and I spent over three hours plus, working on the much missed ‘lost-but-no-idea-how’ word-list recreating.
Was I bothered at the time? Nope! I regretted it in the morning when I realised I had done absolutely nothing on this blog and had to start from scratch. Yet I thought I had made a start? I suppose I can blame .

Then, I had the longest-ever seizure that I can remember. I estimate that it was for three hours, and the day had gone! The Carer was ringing as I was recovering from the effects of the visit into the unknown. My part-drunk mug of tea was stone cold, my body half hanging out of the chair; I reckon I was lucky not to fall off it. Yet the after effects, compared to a mini-seizure, were piffle; I was back near normal, within seconds, and the acrid taste coming up from the innards was barely noticeable. 
Carer gave me my medications, rubbed some pain gel in the right knee and was off, bless him.

The District Nurse arrived. I’m always glad when this happens. She’d come to check on my right leg and but
saw the state of my left arm, and proceeded in a no-nonsense manner to pick out the dried blood and lymph blobules, clean it and put a plaster on. Telling me (with a smile), she had not come to do this, just your leg. Then she moved onto the leg; whipped off the diabetic strapping, pulled down the under-sock, and removed the blood-soaked plaster, cleaned it and put a new plaster over it. I thanked her and off she went on her rounds. I bade her farewell.
This is when abandoned me, and . And stayed for the rest of the night.

This Is Spunk
A New Mexico resident who dwells with a large clowder of cats. Don’t let the cute expression fool you. He is the leader of the group and his paperatzzi owner, Tim. No doubting it, he’s a handsome one. Although please don’t tell other furries that I said so. Hehe! 😹🤎

I overcooked my oven chips a little (a little? Hehehe!)
That was after going through the whole packet of chips, especially selecting the small ones that would cook faster, as hunger was starting to get the best of me. I knew I’d just got to run a sweep of the computer with CCleaner and thought they would be nearly ready by the time I finished, about 12 minutes.
But no, of course not.
Had me deciding to do a few minutes of the word-listings. pillock Eventually, an hour later, the door chime chimed, and I smelt the burning!
I took the tray of, shall we say, singed chips out and photographed it. The Carer didn’t notice the smell, which amazed me. Medications were issued.
Then I made up a meal of crisps and opened a can of pork hock. It had a ring pull, which I pulled. The result was a cut finger, well, a cut thumb. I got a packet of Cheesy Curls, some cheese, and put the meat on a tray.
I missed the chips naturally, but was pleased that the makeshift meal tasted good.

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TTFN

Inchie: Sunday 28th September 2025

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Inchy felt below par in mind & body, the fool has put the wrong Ode Intro graphic title on here. This is nothing unique; the plonker has done this before. But at least he got the colour of the lettering nearly right. He expects retribution to be exacted, as it was last night. Yes, from Thought-Storming-Steve. Serves the uninhibited twit right! He’s sorry!
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Ah, the wind is blowing, as I try to get the car going…
Twas my old three-wheeled Reliant Robin,
She was aged when I bought her. She keeps stopping,
I thought it was the fuel filter, cause when I got her going,
The engine & plastic body were shuddering and shaking,
She stopped again, near a garage, so I pulled in…
Asked if I could give the RAC a ring…
Two hours later, I saw the RAC man arriving, 
Walked down to the roadway to greet him; it was raining, 
Both of us soaked, I asked the man who was serving…
If he minded if we used his WC to get dried in,
Which we did, a sociable man, we were joking…
As we left, we saw his motorbike & sidecar had been stolen,
No brooding or moaning; well, a little cursing,
I gave him a lift in my rain-soaked, now-working Robin,
To the RAC base, next to the pub, The Farmers Bobbin,
Then on to work, the rain was still coming…
I got to work late after all the kerfuffling,
What happened took some chymifying…
I told the boss what happened, but I was laughing…
I got the sack, he thought I was lying!
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More True Tales of Woe to follow,
That is, if the BP does not stay so low,
I’m running so far behind, I’ll have to go.
Not on holiday to Acapulco…
But to see my friend, Angelino…
He still owes me £150, you know,
No problem, just thought I’d let you know. 💟
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One of those terrible, LESS days.
Everything was a problem, a handicap, mingled with annoying blanks, and I was mentally all over the place. Monday, when I eventually started this blog, although feeling calmer, and the much-appreciated, even if only temporarily, departure of Anne Gyne and Toothache Tiffany, I struggled to get things in order, and some photos I cannot recall taking, but the date on the SD card told me I had taken them on Sunday.
So, I’m already behind again with the blog. With all the extra diabetic blood tests, limping slowly around with the sticks, and my mind still floating from subject A to B, I found myself doing subject C, forgetting to go back to do A and B.
I often sense that I’ve got something wrong. I’m forever going back to the kitchen to see if I’ve left the oven on, fridge or freezer doors open, or my most common mistake, left the hot water to run cold. This often hinders the washing or hand-laundering that I’d planned to do, and I become more confused and further behind with things that need doing, but don’t get done. The frustration grows, the solution being so far out of reach, beyond me.
The ablutions are now taking me a lot longer to complete. Two hours, even without having a shower. Carer Ejaz gets annoyed with me when I try to rush things or bend down to pick anything up that I’ve dropped on the floor; bless him, he has the best of intentions. He fears me ending up back in the hospital, knowing what a nightmare it was last time. Bless him. Tells me to leave them if the picker-upper cannot get them, and he will check on his next call if anything has been dropped in a dangerous place.
So, I apologise if things get out of order, are missed, or are duplicated. It’s hard work today (Monday) concentrating without getting sidetracked of thoughts and tasks that disrupt my intended pattern of plans and intentions.
This paragraph flowed too easily for my liking.
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Here I go, at last…
Bedded down at 00:10 hours, and into a broken, every now and then, sleep, forcing myself to dismount the bed at about 05:00hrs.
Carer Ejaz arrived a few minutes later as I was in the wet room battling to free the dark brown, solid, bobbly nuggets of the Constipation Konrad evacuation.
It was a long, arduous, painful task, needing a lot of urging.
Ejaz foamed the left lower leg lesions and issued the prescription medications. Gave me some extra Laxido to counteract the recent issues.
Did a body check, Porpain gelling Cartilage Chloe, and my lower back above the bottom, which he checked and reported as being bloodless. Then he barrier creamed under my flabby belly, the right arm, and the right testicle. Reminded me to take at least one stick with me whenever I moved to another room, and scolded me for bending down to pick things up. He was right, of course, he usually is, bless him. Within minutes of Ejaz’s departure, I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne again. I felt a little less resistant this time, but it did cause a bit of bleeding from Haemmorhoid Harold.

Made a start of Saturday’s blog, at the same time making several stupid errors that cost me hours to correct. Then, the return of the seizures. Then, the first one made things even worse, as it came in the middle of my trying to put right the earlier problems and foul-ups that I’d made. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it felt like it was a long one. Because when I returned in incomprehensible confusion and disorientation, it cleared so quickly. I’ve noticed that the longer ones are so much easier and quicker to recover from. Luckily, I hadn’t continued working on the blog… when that happens, it is so time-consuming and annoying having to correct the errors I’d made in the seizure. For some unknown reason, I abandoned correcting of my earlier blogging mistakes on the blog and went to the kitchenette. I got the orange/brown nightshirt handwashed and hung it up to drip-dry on a hanger in the wet room shower rail. 
I took a snap of the kitchen window view. I’m not sure what I did wrong, but this photo had a hue that was nothing like the one in the camera’s eye-viewer when I took it.

Ejaz made a quick call, and I returned to the blog to correct so many errors that even I couldn’t believe that I’d made so many of them.

During Carer Ejaz’s teatime call, he checked, as I did, the PM Health Checks to ensure I had them right. Because the morning ones were so low, back in the danger zone.

I recall taking these cloud shots from the balcony, where I went to picture the end car park, but got carried away with the beauty of these clouds in the blue sky. I saw so many shapes within them… as any other addicted to pareidolia, like me, would.

I had to abandon blogging and finish it later; I’ll catch up in the morning. Suddenly attacked, this time including the foul, acrid taste coming up from the stomach; similar to the ones that come up after a nocturnal seizure. Concentration goes out of the window; concentration becomes a memory.
I think I rested 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, and put the TV on. Fell asleep (or had a seizure) and woke up on top of the bed, the acidulous taste lingering, twixt my stomach and my mouth.
I urged my body off of the bed, and got the stick, off to the wet room to use some mouthwash & Peptac.
Within a few minutes, the acerbic taste dissipated, and my thoughts turned to food… I investigated what was available in the refrigerator and freezer.
I created rather than cooked up this little feast.
Country sausage (ready-cooked), cubed potatoes oven-baked, Water chestnuts, and roast chestnuts.
Very nice!

Out of the blue, a nurse arrived, apologising for calling on a Sunday. Someone is coming on Tuesday. Thinking I had been informed about her visit for today. (Naturally, I may well have been and I’d forgot about it – it could happen to anyone… but, odds are this is what happened). I am to have a home heart and blood monitor installed. She will return on the delivery day, letting me know the day before, and guide me and a Carer on how to use it. That was a nice gesture. She gave me a number to ring, should the BP be any lower than it was today. Advised me to pack a bag with things needed, just in case. Towel, pyjamas, razors, foam, prescription toothpaste & brush, slippers, etc. And not to forget my mobile, hearing aids & batteries, spectacles and a list of medications I take.

The Cardiac & DVT nurses, as well as the District Nurse, are also due to change or renew their long-overdue appointments . So, don’t fret if I’m unable to post a blog on Tuesday. As Arni said, “I’ll be back!” Hahaha! I might not even be going anywhere.

Another pretty view from the kitchenette window.

Ejaz made his last call, insisting that I get to bed early and try to get more sleep. Which gave me an inner excuse not to wash and shave, Hehe!

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🤎 Please Taketh Care, Each! 🤎
 And have a good kip, if you can
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Inchy: Wednesday 7th May 2025

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The fragrant beauty of the moonflower,
The falling leaves from the magnolia,
Signs of Spring, from the family Rosaceae,
Tulips will be growing in Andover,
Recalling my young days, I go a quiver,
Recollecting my tussles with woman-power,
In the grass, cuddles, gropes… Wowser!
I refer, of course, to my beloved Grizelda,
As our relationship did blossom & flower,
Living here lonely now, in Winchester…
Most nights, I hear Grizelda whisper,
I explain how I desperately miss her,
Grizelda; the best ever lover & groper,
Harder than any gobstopper…
Big, muscular, strong, but genteeler,
Galactic, like mythological Galaxia…
She was never the gongoozler…
Rather more the sex organ activator,
My desire, my fire, my inveigler,
A powerful scented windbreaker,
A passionately strong lovemaker,
Autumn leaves fall from the sycamore,
Grizelda was taken, I see her no more,
She was my love, my supporter,
I imagine, dream & remember…
I still love and often serenade her,
In my mind, this may sound like Bilgewater,
She wards off my Neuralgia & Dementia…
I recall her caring benignity…
She loved my childlike poetry,
Her passion, with its forceful articulacy,
Our passion? I was the beneficiary,
I pray to meet her again, cacophonously,
She’s in my every catalepsy, is Grizzly,
I’ll die, not circumspectly or tentatively…
Hoping she’ll be waiting, eager to again maul me!
Enjoying contact, love and contiguity!
Forgive my being slightly delusionary, Hehe!
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It’s another busy day. Wednesdays are busy nowadays. Usually, Carer Joe does the weekly long call. Last week, before he arrived, I told myself to mention that I’d not have any cash to pay the monthly bills from those who do not take payment by cash card. This morning, I remembered that I still had no money to pay my debts.
Joe came to the rescue and took me to the ATM. We also got a bit of food. Boy, did I enjoy getting out? 
Joe changed the routine and got the laundry ready to go down with us. Joe also helped me prepare the trolley and other things to take out. However, I failed to remember to take the camera with me. Huh! 
When we got to the ground floor, all the machines were in use, so we had to wait until one was free. There were delays at every turn on this trip. Joe had a limited time—three hours, I think. He said we could collect the finished laundry on the way back from the ATM. Then he walked me to his pap-pap and somehow got me in it. That was painful, but it didn’t matter. Once in all, it was comfort. It was filled up when we got to the car park down Winchester Street! More delays! The third car park we tried had one free space! We moved to the road and shop with the ATM. It was broken down. 

Then, to the Co-op ATM. That had broken down.
Then, to the Continental Shops ATM. Got the dosh.

I bought some great-priced Compass canned meals there. Then I went back to the car park and up to the flats.

We’d spent so long over the ATMs that Joe had no time to dry the washing. He brought it up, and we hung it all over. A great job Joe did.

Commuter playing up.
I’m struggling. If I get the computer looked at, I’ll put pictures on quickly and catch up tomorrow.

Amazing – the moon has a ghost?

Glengettie & Spring water, and Soda water.
Drinkies to fill the catheter bag.

Joe took me to the ATM; what a farce!
But by gum, I loved getting out, feeling
I was safe if any seizures or tumbles came.

Got back to the flat.
Late, of course. No time for Joe to do the spin-drying with the ATMs not working.

A few nibbles I bought.

We hung the damp laundry all over the place. Haha!On the kitchenette Windows.
Socks on the airer in the hallway.
Hallway airing cupboard doors.
And on the main room door.

Skin-on wedge chips, slightly-seasoned.
As recommended by Carer Joe.
Stopping here. Computer toying with me.
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Must get some help with it.

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In a pickle!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 20th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Cooked pot of pork knuckle, beetroots, pickled black beans and water chestnuts, a giant potato pancake, two doorstep sized slices of bread, and a spot of BBQ sauce added. A cheap icecream cone to follow.
Ate it all up, like a good little boy. Hehehe!

22:20hrs: I got bedded down, and was soon off into the land of slumber, where I had a dream.
I was in the Tardis, with Herr Starmer. I recognised it from the TV series, but there were also members of Parliament, all arguing. Starmer seemed oblivious to this, and carried on over-talking them. I wish I could recall more. But that’s all folks! As some old Walt Disney cartoons used to end. Not that I can recall it at the moment, but I reckon I must have got up during the morning, and took these photographs from the kitchen window. Putting them on, I remembered the green sky, and wondering what I’d done wrong?
To the right I think.
To the left I think.
Ahead, I guess.
Closer shot, ahead. (Brown now?)

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Well, he’s back another reactivation,
Imbedding in me, thoughts of a madman,
Or perhaps, to be closer, a badman…
Silly thoughts, developed, began…
Will I ever get to use a bedpan again?
A chance to dance, the twist or can-can?
If I’m reborn, I’d like to be a Casanovan,
I’m passing wind with power of a turbofan,
I can hear words, they’re stentorian…
However, I refuse to pay attention,
They are full of hatred & vilification…
Loathing, defamation, castigation…
Giving me collywobbles & trepidation,
They laughed at my coming trephination,
Is the voice mine? Am I in regression?
My alto-ego is a much better rhetorician,
I leave no progeny, offspring, scion,
What will I leave in residualisation?
With age, comes a painful realisation,
Unwarranted dismal and depression,
I’d use a little prognostication…
Involving perception, conceptualisation,
But it would only be assumption, supposition,
I’d love to know before my conclusion,
Can life really be just an illusion?
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Best Week All Year!
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I had to use the Porcelain Throne twice overnight.
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At 06:40hrs, I bounded out of bed, and I did a backwards flip. One-handedly whipped the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Burst into song; Frank Ifield’s Wayward Wind. Did a few press-ups, and ten minutes of shadow boxing, and opened the kitchen window to yodel my greetings and best wishes to all who could hear me… Or, if you prefer the truth…
It’d been another stormy night. It must have taken me four hours to fall asleep. with his nit-picking and reminders of various mistakes and bad choices I’ve made over the years, I finally gave up his attack. I feell asleep for about an hour, sprang awake, waited for to stop trying to twist my neck off, and as he subsided, had her turn at dislocating my shoulder bone. No chance of nodding off again no matter how tired I felt, now. At 06:40hrs, I removed the night bag, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I could hardly feel the evacuation taking place. As I stood up, I couldn’t believe the amount of mass of evacuated product in the porcelain! I’ll say no more...


Made a brew of Glengettie.

Carere Ejaz called. I forgot to ask him to take off my socks. And pointed out that have only one warfarin dose left in the stock. Ejaz said sorry for being late. No bother at all. He was using buses on a Sunday.

I prepared the meal for tonight.
Large white beans, black-eyed peas, Gung Po sauce and gravy, water chestnuts, Light Soy sauce, liquid smoke, and potatoes. Heating it slowly in the crock-pot. Yes, the same again. I do like it!

More kitchen views.
Sunshine getting through.
Decent shots?

Back to the blogging.
Then onto the WP Reader.
Hoping it lets me ‘like and comment’ this time.

Carer Joe arrived. He’s bought some prescription medications, bless him. Great, I was on the last Warfarin tablet, too! Thanks!

Got the meal sorted. Took snaps of the evening view.
Amazing cloud formations

The days meal.

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May your week go frabjously,
Your hopes develop fabulously,
Your days each go unfractiously.
May your plans go flawlessly,
May your luck go favourably…
for your fancies and foibles,
Each day pass felicitously,
You avoid all that goes feudally,
Your dreams mature flawlessly,
May others greet you fondly,
And have a bit of luck, financially!
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Inchy Today: Friday 11th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I’ve never received an assumpsit,
On a jury, they’ve never let me sit,
Won £5 on the pools; nothing on the Lottery,
No prize for my Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Never been called dictatorial, or absolutistic,
Lived most of my life as allegoric or metaphoric,
After some seizures, I go all apathetic,
All dreams I have are absurd, amphigoric,
At 6, I decided I’d learn how to whittle,
And chopped my thumb off, that made me widdle,
At 7, crossing a bridge, I got thrown in a canal,
At 9, I fell downstairs, made myself vestigial,
At 10, for a dare, I ate an angelwitch!,
Now elderly, I’m an insomniac, agrypnotic,
When younger, I was most apolaustic,
Got sacked a few times, an experienced attrit!
Since my stroke, I’ve experienced being abiotic,
Teachers said that I was idiotic!
They found my ulcer had turned carcinogenic,
Which left me feeling a mite catatonic,
Hoping my odes are seen as copacetic,
My few remaining teeth look like eolith,
This afternoon, I got stuck in the lift!
This is all true, you know, not a myth!
So, can you see why I sometimes get miffed?
I think laughing at myself is a gift!
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A rough start to the day, but I’ll explain later.
Three hours into consciousness, things improved healthwise. In fact, as I type this, it’s been a much better day.,
But only physically, healthwise. Mentally,  it brought me many things I could have done without.
The most frustrating thing was the computer. It was causing internet blackouts, and I’ve reloaded Google eighteen times already. Blunkerbonks! Losing work done every time. Depressed about this; I know it will eventually become unusable. However, none of the computer people I asked for help responded positively. When I rang, they informed me that they were swamped, but the engineer would contact me. Please be patient. That was seven months ago!
Very little on the blog today because I lost all my later photos in a blackout.
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05:20hrs: After an improved sleep, I stirred into imitation life and dismounted the hospital bed. Emptying the nocturnal pouch, I realised it had not been assed for colour, but the Carer will do it for me, I poured some of the wee in a cardboard cup, to be checked later.
My mind was not exactly clear, and I kept wondering what it was I’d planned to do while mountaineering from the hospital bed.
I went to check the taps, fridge, freezer and stoves to make sure I had not left anything on again. Nope, all looked good, and Anne Gyne had missed her usual attacks that assault me within an hour of waking up. Well, they have been doing the last few mornings.
Boy, what a fantastic sight greeted me from the kitchen window.
At first, I thought I’d lost half a day, and it was nighttime. When I changed my glasses, I realised it was not a sunset but the red moon disappearing over the horison. I took a closer shot of it within 30 seconds and saw how far it had gone down since the first snap was taken. The mist was far less this morning. It felt a lot warmer this morning.

I gathered the things needed to do the ablutions and medications. I also remembered that the Yauhuol needed handwashing. I’m struggling with this job, so I spoke with myself, telling myself to be extra careful when washing and not to spill any more water again. I believe I cursed myself for having done it for the last two mornings. It knocks me up having to mop using the stick.
A bit of advance planning here. Oh, yes! While doing the ablutions, I realised I was going to hang the Yahuole on the shower railings, so I put the bowls in position to catch some of the dripping water. Cunning that, I thought!  Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed. Messy more than ever this morning.
The teeth were done, then the shaving, and multiple nicks bled. But the ever-reliable Brut aftershave soon stopped them all from bleeding. I’d sooner not talk about the medicalisationings if you don’t mind. Oh, go on, then, but it brings back the pain. As per usual, the worst was from the creaming and massaging of. Arrgh! does not begin to cover the pain this time. I threw in a few naughty words and curses at myself; being generous by nature, I lobbed a few in for and at our Banckhander-taking, Pensioner-Killing Conservative Fürher Keir Starmer. I wish someone would inform him that he’s supposed to be leading the Labour Party. Albeit they are showing signs of beibg more like a Nazi- Party!
I lost the plot there; sorry about that!

Carer Ahmed arrived. We tried the key safe, and we actually got it open! Well, Ahmed did. As we were walking back inside, I knew it had to come, it was guaranteed; she launched her morning attack belatedly and kept it up for hours without a break. I asked if I could have an extra Codeine, but after calling his boss, this was refused. I could understand why. It says on the box that I can take up to four a day on the prescription tag on the box. I regularly take 3 a day, rarely needing a fourth. But as the commandant said, it will mean me taking two together, and this cannot be allowed. Eventually, she calmed down around teatime. Fair enough, but the pain was peracute; is that the right word? 
Fair enough, but the pain was peracute. Is that the right word?  It felt excruciating at the time. Hello, she’s off on her tour of my chest, ribs and neck again!

Eventually, late afternoon, I realised the Yahuole was still soaking in the kitchen sink, so I got it handwashed.
I came so close to having a tumble as I stretched to get the coarhanger onto the shower rail. Had it been Cartilage Cathy (right knee) and not Cartilage Chloe (left knee) that gave way, I’d have had noting to grab a hold of to stop me crumpling into mop bucket, the bowls used to catch the drips, and possibly another head bashing on the trolley or sink. 
But no, a bit of luck falling the other way, with a safety bar within reach… which clung onto! Just found a tiny bruise on the left ribs.

The seizure took care of things for about two hours. I have no idea if I did anything silly while out of it. No, I lie! I did do some work on the blog. Later, I found all the cock-ups I made and will try to find and correct them all (I hope) in the morning.

Carer “Joe” is due for a late call anytime now. I’m going to make two sandwiches: thick, chunky bread, no butter, sliced cooked pork loin to go on the bread, and Marmite and beetroot! If I feel brave enough, I may do some oven chips to go with the sarnies. I’m so rascally at times. Haha!

Carer “Joe” said he is off tomorrow. So the Small Asian Angel & Carer Ahmed should be serving me this Saturday.

NOSH
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Word of the day: flibbertigibbety
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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 10th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I was once a young, fit, healthy, wise-guy
Girls? I kept out a watchful eye,
With my lower regions, I know not why,
It was harder then, with no wi-fi.
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Life then started to become stunted,
The body aged, it became transfigured,
My sense of balance, weaved & wobbled,
My thoughts came oddly technicoloured.
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Ageing makes you crocheted & crusted,
Arithmophobia, dates, figures & numbers…
Mistakes galore, you feel daunted,
Mental capacity, slowly degenerated!
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After Toileting, the room must be fumigated,
Constipation? Teeth need to be gritted!
Facts, figures? Are at best guesstimated,
Decision making? Wrongly, not at all, or belated,
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Instructions not understood, misinterpreted,
In conversations, words can be misheard,
Burning food, taps left on, safety neglected,
Leg lesions medicated and bandaged daily medicated and bandaged,
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Living in a crime-filled neighbourhood,
No help with the computer – I spit blood!
Impossible to get life orchestrated,
No confidence can be radiated!
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Feeling defeated, doubted, rejected,
All I write needs to be repeatedly subedited,
Self-disgust, self-taunted, vision tinted,
Fears & worries are now ever accessed!
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Dark Dank Duncan Depressed,
Labour in power, as antisocialists,
Starmer, the bleakest Conservatist!
I hope death brings peace and rest,
If so, I’ll be so blessed!
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I had much better sleep in the bed last night.
The problem was, I think I’d had nocturnal seizures, possibly. Because the quilt and covers were all over the place, and the pillow was on the floor. Somehow, I’d changed the settings on the bed mover control. It’s hard to believe how I slept at all. I was right at the top of the bed, yet bent forward so much, with a dip halfway down the bed, and the end and top bits raised to the maximum.
I woke up at 05:00. By the time I’d refigured the bed to a faux semi-comfortable position, ready for use tonight or in the morning, it was 06:00- Tsk!
Here I go again, sensing some challenges may present themselves to me this Thursday. Everything was normal, then! Tsk!

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I detached the night pouch from the day pouch. I was so concerned with the state of the bed. I didn’t realise the night bag was even on. What’s more, I didn’t have any fauxpas, trips or leaks for the hour when the pouch dragged along, entangling itself around my foot and leg!
Now I was concerned! How did I manage that?
I fear I can only put it down to one thing… are you ready for this?… Good Luck! Now, I don’t say that very often. Especially after the Carer helped me out yesterday. He did a grand job for me. Questions for any God, philosopher or neurologist: Is my luck changing for the better? Will I cope with the shock, or have another stroke? Why did good luck wait nearly 80 years to appear? Will I live long enough to enjoy it? Will it continue? (It didn’t.) Can I get NHS instruction on how to be contented? Hahaha!

Starting with a visit to the .
I was back in control. But once the chunks started evacuating, it took a while for them to stop clunking into the water below. 
More than yesterday’s big dollop!

A stand-up wash. I didn’t have time to shower in case either the nurses or the Iceland delivery came earlier. I strip washed, soaking the feet as I shaved and did the teggies, then moved on to the self-medicating of my problematic areas. Argh! 
Olive-oiled the ears, sprayed MedPhorpainthe eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees and cartilages, and ointmentated each Acne and eczema area. As usual, I left the most painful bit to the end.
I gritted my teeth, cleaned as instructed, heroically pulled the skin back, and squeezed the ointment in a drop. That was bad enough, but I had to massage it from the outside each time. Self-imposed agony! But it was nothing to a man of my calibre, heroism and upper pain limit. I may even have been singing to myself as I massaged it in.

When I turned on the computer, I realised I had a fair bit to do on yesterday’s blog.
It had been the busiest day for years!

As I was making a start, Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. I didn’t ask him to take the socks off cause they were not put on last night. Haha! Maybe I could join a touring fairground group as their Memory Man? Har-har! 
My medications were issued. The lad said something about what he planned to do next week in flats the clean-up campaign.

I pressed on with the blog, but then it got busy again. The delivery came.
Seven carrier bags worth.
I got the fresh stuff away.
4 items unavailable & 2 substitutions.
Topped up the nurses & carers shelf with the new Pepsi flavours that came.
A well-overfilled filled top cupboard.
The danger of falling through the floor into the flat below the cupboard of cans of food. I shouldn’t starve to death for a month or two! Hehe!
Why did I stock up to ridiculous? What made me suddenly panic so over food stores? Am I going mad?
I’m not sure if it’s Peripheral Neuropathy, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Ménière’s disease, Episodic Ataxia, FND, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Diabetic Dementia, Absence seizures, or the Myoclonic seizures that may have caused this stupider-than-usual action on my behalf. Would doing such activities that I’ve not done for so long, like cleaning up, wear me out?

I managed to get the blog posted a little later than usual. And the fatigue started to fall.

THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY!
The intercom rang, and I thought it might be the tinned food I’d also ordered from Amazon.
Life lifted, and a smile came over my craggy, aged face. (It does that occasionally).
It was my treasured Hristina, the DVT Warfarin Blood Nurse. The heart beat a little faster, and my Angel was soon in the flat.
I mentioned that I’d run out of Enoxaparin-filled hypos. She said if they need you to start stabbing your stomach 8 times a day, they will ensure you get some. That put my mind at rest. She took the blood for testing, and we spoke of something else, but with my heart beating and eyes so busy watching and listening to Hristina—such a wonderfully calming person and so kind. 🤎

I started this blog in the late afternoon.

Then, the Amazon tinned foods arrived!
I then had to store these tinned meals on the floor!
It’s horrible having a lack of control!

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived and was as aghast as I was at the canned food I bought! No medications were needed. They were, but I forgot to ask for the Peptac and Codeine. I managed to make a brew of tea, and when I got back with it, one of the regular patches was in the regular place on the carpet. Yet I could not find any urine spillages on my legs or slippers. One of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, Starmer robbing all we pensioners, and other Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, logicalty and depressions!

Carer ‘Joe’ came on his teatime visit.
Embarrassingly, the pee-time one as well, haha!
He convinced me that it was not urine because there was no smell. He suggested that I may have spilt the catheter, which needed spring water.
He’s got the measure of me now, he has! Hehe! 

Back to this blog. The eyes faded, and the fatigue returned almost instantly. I was so tired and weary.

I foolishly tried to continue this blog. It was farcical and hopeless, so I gave up. So, I’ll be even further behind by morning. Humph!
I’ll try to stay alert enough to get the comments & WordPress reader read.
I’ll make the meal later.

Aha! I caught the sunset.
Not as good as yesterdays’

But fair for me.

I was expecting a last Carer call, but it’s 21:40hrs now.
I’ve probably got confused. Yes, I think I did. Fool!
Carer ‘Joe’ came a little earlier than usual. I’ve just seen the nocturnal catheter pouch on the chair.
I can’t cope with my decline very well. Tsk!

I’ll get the food in the microwave. I made it up in the tray earlier, so it should be ready in the oven in ten minutes. It consists of minced beef in gravy, sliced water chestnuts, pickled beetroots, red onions, tomatoes, garden peas, and a can of potatoes. It is also seasoned with vinegar, Worcester Sauce, and thick sliced bread for dunking. I hope it all goes well. I’ll let you know in the morning!

Good Moring!
The meal looked and smelled amazing!
I made too much. But ate ¾ of it.
NICE!
Into 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, to watch a nature documentary. I’m glad to say that I didn’t get to see it.
This was due to my drifting off to sleep.
There were far too many waking-ups, but I did get back off quickly each time. 
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Keep Smiling! Or, not like. Hehehe!
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Inchy (Unwell) Today: Friday 21st March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I’ve never seen an elephant or a zony,
A giraffe, or been to Hungary…
Or why we all live xenophobically,
I know if Starmer gets his way…
Pensioner’s food will be xerophagy!
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Oh, last night’s kip, seizure after seizure!
Accompanied with agony from Anne Gyna,
I was a nocturnal cougher & sneezer,
Sleepless, confused, unwell, a sad geezer,
So bad, I was prepared for my sepulchre!
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Hard to breathe, a cough and an atchoo!
My moving and thinking was so adagio,
What I was or needed to do, I didn’t know!
Nocturnal seizures, I’ve only had two…
Both were in bed. Is it a bugaboo?
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My brain & body needed to be examined,
At first, I felt really succussed,
The carer came, this was discussed,
He reported to HQ, well, he must…
They didn’t mention my psychosis,
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I said no help was needed,
Though I may have been deluded,
Then, the carer departed,
I became far less bothered,
So quickly, I suddenly breathed!
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My dizziness, & balance improved,
With Anne Gyna, I was not affected,
It took a minute to feel jubilated,
Gone, I was, no longer seizured,
Sadly, later, Anne Gyna feasted!
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ADMISSIONS
I’ve blundered, blabbed & believed,
Got angry, annoyed, been aggrieved,
Begloomed, begrimed & becharmed,
Shoplifted, got shot twice, was sacked,
In 1950, I was abducted,
By a neighbour, I was snatched…
I believe her name was Winifred,
A Welsh lady who took me to her bed,
Her groping, I found unmatched,
Her house I frequently frequented,
I didn’t realise what we practised,
But I was sorely satisfied!
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After each Nocturnal Seizure, clearing my head and senses was a long job. Balancing was a farce. Anne Gyna was playing ball with me. From getting up, it was a confusing and worrying 4 hours before the Carer arrived. The Carer rang his HQ to report my condition. Eyesight blurred, coughing and sneezing, phlegm coming up, dizzy, and most things that I was suffering from cannot be remembered. I think I was finding it a job to talk as well. At one stage, I spoke with a lady from the Carer organisation. Can’t recall what was said.
Once the Carer departed, my head slowly cleared, and my vision improved after taking the medication. I took an extra Codeine & Paracetamal.
I’ve got photos on the SD card that I cannot recall taking. Maybe the seizures continued with the mini-ones. The day flashed by. I didn’t start this ode until around 15:00hrs when I started the odes.
After this, I may need to give WP a rest.
After three nights of broken sleep, then last night’s nocturnal Seizures, I must try to get some sleep. I realise my thousands of fans will be disappointed, and I apologise to both of you. Hehe!
I’m so far behind it hurts!

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I NEED SLEEP!
Dear Lord, I won’t bellyache.
At best, my life’s been bittersweet,
I don’t mean to moan & bleat…
Three days under the bedsheet,
Mostly in pain and wideawake,
And not a moment’s sleep,
Anne Gyna & Sandra’s Seizures compete,
I pray you to hear me speak,
I don’t intend to offer critique,
Sleep: or ensure I don’t reawake.

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Well, it’s time to get summat to eat. I originally decided to have two lamburgers on cheesy-topped rolls. My taste buds tingled at the thought.
I couldn’t have made a proper meal anyway because I forgot to tell the carer not to put the nocturnal bag on yet. I could have made the meal without the dangers of using the walking stick and cooking simultaneously. I got the burgers in the oven; they should take 35 minutes to cook.
Then I returned to the computer and did the Ode To Sleep. Forgetting all about the burgers.
I got a whiff of the burning food!

So, I ate some Cheez-it crackers and nuts as sustenance for tonight.

Photos of the day. In order as taken, I think.
First one.
My beloved tree copse.

Cavendish Vale

CorelDraw problems again.

This might be out of sync timewise?

Green skies, as well.
I’m colour-blind on red/greens, so you
may not see the colour I do.
Protanopia: This is a severe form of
red-green colour blindness where 
individuals are unable to perceive
red lights at all. 
I looked this up on my NHS list.
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After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using 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, in hopes of nodding off.
Well, it was great! Five straight hours without interruption. Until and kicked off.
Five hours is more than I’ve had over the last three days.
No bother from , , or either of the Cartilages. !

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Flaunt a Fiesta Full of Funny Frivolity!
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Inchy Wednesday 12th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I seem to have acquired more blameworthiness,
Does this come from my apparent guiltworthiness?
Or possibly, from my innocence & guiltlessness?
May it be due to my banal gullibleness?
It could be from my gutlessness or gutsiness,
My seizure episodes that bring gormlessness?
My life lived with no moments of being gregarious?
Or my periods of excessive garrulousness?
A lifetime of receiving sideways glances?
Undoubtedly, my depression and gloominess?
Or my lack of confidence, which is ginormous?
My infected brain has a certain grotesqueness,
My ageing body shows signs of ghostliness,
Mind & body decaying, it’s getting grievous,
As I mentioned earlier, always the guiltiness,
My search for painlessness was gainlessness,
Surviving life’s been a stab in the dark, a guess!
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Not the best of days.

At least I got some good sleep. It was broken, of course, but I reckon I still enjoyed a whopping seven hours. Nice!
The nocturnal pouch clour was another 4 on the NHS scale. With the Health Checks doing so well, I was well-pleased, to say the least.

A morning of mini-seizures. I’m not surprised; I was notified of a change in living circumstances late in the day. My own fault; only me or Doreen Dementia is to blame.

The seizures didn’t help. I struggled with the odeing and spent far too much time (Over four hours) trying to flow right. I’m not all that sure I improved it.

No confidence today. Plenty of the ankles sending electric shocks up the ankle, and the seizures, albeit they were short ones, I think, handicapped my brainpower.

A morning shot of the kitchenette view.

Adjusted the calendar clock.

And the biggest, well, most prolonged Seizure ever visited me.
I cannot recall much; the blanks were long.

In the late afternoon, I got the letter hand-delivered informing me about the upcoming changes.

Oh, I’ve not put the delivery photos on yet. So, I will.
Some of my favourite eats were delivered.
But I was not in the mood to feel cheerful
about anything.

The Natoora tomatoes were a bit soft, but I used them in the meal later. They were tasty!
Chessy-topped cobs.
I’ll have two of them tonight.
The fridge was looking fuller now.

Now it’s Nosh Time.
Battered onion rings were done in the oven.
The mini Spanish tomatoes were thrown away; they tasted terribly bitter. All else was eaten.
In my depression, I forgot to score the taste.
And cannot remember what I gave it.

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Cheerio Each!
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Inchy: Wednesday 22nd January 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I could never do a headstand,
I’ve never had a house husband,
I did once get stuck in the heathlands,
Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, 
I found a hairband on my hatstand?

I was confused, not worried,
I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid,
Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed,
No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid?
More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…

The computer was acting like an invalid,
So many problems I was fumid,
I’m giving up now; it makes me sick.
There must be someone who can help me a bit…
I’ve got no teeth left to grit,

On my second night without sleep or rest,
Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist,
Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.

The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous,
The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us…
Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding,
I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.

The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, 
The sore throat hurt so much when coughing,
It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!

After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous,
This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly!
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This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.

I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼

I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired?
This bug is a bugger!
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I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
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