Inchie: Sat 4th Oct 2025: Carer Ejaz helped me out again

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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Out of the blue… came High-Mood-Horis!
Installing mood & temperament changes,
Apprehensions & appreciations, to cataloguise,
To the nurses, I’m an accommodationist,
But every call this week, they have missed…
This makes me a panicker, an alarmist!
Who’s not called? Well, there’s the neurologist,
Community Nurses are down twice on my list…
One to give my Catheter Contraption a refit,
One to provide Lymphorrea Leslie’s legs, a treat…
I say treat, cause after I always feel great!
Surgery nurse for my Cognitive Impairment test,
One to burst my rear-end dermoid cyst,
Finally, to give me my COVID and flu shots,
The Red Cross gave a wheelchair to collect,
Contact from a surgeon or proctologist,
Each and every arrangement was missed,
I think the word for me this week is, miffed!
High-Mood-Horis visited me… each call was short,
But appreciated, one was only for a minute…
Carer Ejaz confirmed I am a somniloquist,
Today, I was low, despite Horis’s short visits,
Agitated, pitiable self-pity, full of quiddits,
Physically, I was at my quaggiest, unsteadiest,
Concentration? Impossible, due to my proclivities…
My wandering of track was the awfullest…
I’ve ever been, futile, fruitless,
Fighting this mind-roaming was inefficacious,
This Ode proves I’m turning into a malapropist,
Would it help if I saw a hypnotherapist?
It’s not so long ago, when I was feisty & fliest,
Losing the plots, seizures, excuses, the feignest,
I’m in fear of being at my most self-harmfullest,
Depression Darius, an ailment? The worstest!
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A combination of weariness, tiredness, and confusion lingered with me all night. It was still present in the morning when I woke, barely able to walk due to the pain in my left knee and the aching, tingling sensations from which were leaking badly.
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Good Morning
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Sorry about there not being much on here. The moment I woke up this morning.
I could feel desperation, and somehow I believed I had summoned up the three dreadfully short visits during this day of misery, sorrow, frustration, self-disapproval and despair.
Strangely, now just before 21:00hrs, as I begin to write this, is back for a fourth visit. Now I see things differently, and that treasured ‘Sod them all’ sensation is back within me. But I am still so tired, so I shall just show the photos – the few that I’ve had any interest in taking, and those that Carer Ejas took in his effort to cheer me up. Bless him and his efforts. I await Ejaz’s last call. I feel so guilty for feeling how I did today.
I mean, nothing has changed from any of the previous few days, where I coped reasonably well and was positively cheery at times. I thought. I’ll ask Ejaz if I can take his photo to put on here in the morning. Ejaz came then. I’ve just asked, but he rightly declined.
No worries, I understood the lad. He asked if any medications were needed and examined the legs and ankles. Was leaking a smidgeon. Nothing applied, he’ll see how they are in the morning. He checked the taps and oven, and then he was off on his last call of the day.

These two were taken this morning by Carer Ejaz.
The top one after he had Certaben-creamed the cracked skin of .
Blown if I remember what he said, but it made me laugh as he took a snap as I was putting back on a nightshirt after he had Barrier creamed where needed on his body-check. Bless him!

Later, I went onto the balcony to take this shot of the Citrus Walk end car park. Nice parking.

The rain started later on.

The wind was howling near lunchtime.

The rain eased of later on.

Spent far too long on the Words-for-Odes updating and changing. As I say, I kept going from one thing to another repeatedly, ending up with three projects and none of them finished – then went back to the flipping Words-for-Odes updating. Humph.
Feeling low with being
persistently with me. So annoying, worse than any other day, as far as I knew, with nothing having changed, but down I was. Grumph!

Finally, I got around to making the Ode. That flowed with my depression, possibly helping.
Then, out of the blue, blessed me with an unexpected but very welcome appearance! At Last! And it did last for the rest of the night, after a disappointing, depressing, frustrating, mind-all-over-the-place day. Things were still sad, frustrating, mind-all-over-the-place, but with Horis’s amazing attachment of great ‘soddum-all’ attitude, they didn’t bother me much this time.

I got the potatoes in the oven, and pressed on with this Ode – almost notchalantly, casually.
Horis stayed with me for two & a half hours or more. He departed when I burned my finger taking the meal out of the oven, which caused me to drop the walking stick. I foolishly didn’t fetch the Picker-Upperer, but bent down to retrieve the stick and: Sod It!
Dizzy Dennis, Shaking Shaun and Back Ache Brenda kicked off simultaneously.
Followed by my twisting the fractured knee as I turned with the stick, and dropped the dam thing again! This time, I did fetch the Picker-Upperer.
Yet with Horis lingering, amazingly, I only needed a couple of minutes to stay still, then took two Co-Codamol to counter the pain.
Unfortunately, the potatoes had cooled slightly in the meantime. A disappointment in terms of taste.
I washed the pots and got my head down. But with Accifauxpa and kerfuffle, I had to go and check the taps, cooker, and fridge doors, in case I had left anything running, leaking, or left turned on.

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, and fell asleep. During a strange dream, Colin Cramps shot me awake.
Eric’s Electric Leg Shocks joined in and stopped me nodding off for a while.

Thanks to I wasn’t bothered much about the pain or annoyed at not getting to sleep. I pray he’s still with me in the morning and visits again tomorrow. Please!


TTFNski Each

Inchie: Frid 3rd October 2025 High-Mood-Horis AWOL

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‘Level of music playing at the same time in Porangahau’,
Longest place name in the world, I’m telling you…
Translates as “the place where Tamatea, the man with the big knees, who slid, climbed and swallowed mountains, known as‘’landeater’, 
Indigenous Polynesians of New Zealand, now the Māori, Taumatawhakatangihangakoauauotamateaturipukakapikimaungahoronukupokaiwhenuakitanatahu,
There are a lot of other things that I know and can do,
I can yodel, doxologise, and pass wind impromptu!
I can spray a room when I sneeze, Aitchoo!
I was a member of a highly trained aircrew!
Blowing up balloons for the Christmas party due,
I’m having a problem with the computer; I think it’s the CPU.
Cramp, & arthritis in my finger, it looks like a corkscrew…
Fell over, my right knee got a fracture or two…
Dropped and broke the kettle, making a mess of a brew,
Truth is, life? I haven’t a clue…
What to say, what to do, why, where or who…
To the Porcelain Throne, I’m a habitué,
No idea how I’ve managed to survive hereto,
My brain contains aliens, creating a hullabaloo, 
Neither notion nor clue, why they do what they do,
I’ll have to stop now, I need another phoo!
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TERRORIST MURDER AT MOSQUE
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Here’s what we know about the terror attack so far.
Victims: A car and stabbing attack took place at Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation Synagogue yesterday morning.
Two people from the Jewish community were killed: Adrian Daulby, 53, and Melvin Cravitz, 66. Three others are in the hospital with serious injuries.
Suspects: Counter Terrorism Police named the suspect as 35-year-old Jihad al Shamie. He was shot dead by firearms officers.
Police said he was a British citizen of Syrian descent and that his name did not appear in any records of Prevent – the UK government’s counter-terrorism programme. Three other people – two men in their 30s and a woman in her 60s – have been arrested in connection with the attack. Being held on suspicion of commission, preparation and instigation of acts of terrorism. The attack in 10 minutes: 9.31am: A 999 caller said a man was stabbed and a car was driven towards members of the public at Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation Synagogue, Crumpsall.
9.34am: Firearms officers were deployed. Police received further reports that a security guard was attacked with a knife.
9.37am: Police declared a major incident.
9.38am: Police officers fired multiple shots, hitting a suspected man.
9.41am: Paramedics arrived and treated four people for stabbing and vehicle injuries.
Response: Sir Keir Starmer said he was “appalled” by the attack and returned to the UK to chair an emergency COBRA meeting.
The King said that he and the Queen were “deeply shocked and saddened to learn of the horrific attack”.
Greater Manchester Police have deployed extra officers across the region today.
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06:00hrs: Removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and made my way to the . I only just made it in time, as a comeback from Trotsky Terence all but caught me out. The mess went into the WC, thankfully not on me or the floor.
I soon realised that was leaking on the right leg, the fractures on the left knee were painful, and I had shooting up the right leg, this time from the toes!

I made a brew of Typhoo Extra Strong tea bags in the small mug. Then got the Health Checks done. The SYS was at a higher level; all the others seemed okay. Put the gear back on the Carer’s table, and Carer Ejaz arrived. He soon got on with the medications. Medications first. Giving me just one of the Senna tablets. Then Ejaz foamed my suffering with   affected legs and ankles. Had a bash on the hoover, then double-checked the HC numbers were recorded correctly. Bless him.

OUT-OR-IT FOR TWO HOURS!
No idea if I’d fallen asleep or had a mammoth seizure. When I came back to an imitation life and consciousness, I was sitting on the scruffy, second-hand, circa 1968, non-working, moth-eaten, creaky, haemorrhoid-ridden recliner, hurting, and Little Inchy was trapped on the catheter tubing; the usual ultra-confusion and dizziness were not there as they usually are as an after-effect, stunting recovery. So, maybe I did go sit down and fall asleep?
But the computer had been left on. Another mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, with my right leg leaking fluid yet again, & the fractured knee in pain.

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I got on with the blogging session, and the intercom rang out. I thought it might be Carer Ejaz, not realising how long I’d been supposedly sleeping. It rang of before I could get to the panel; this happens sometimes when someone sees them and admits them into the main foyer. But there were no signs of Ejaz – then it dawned on me: the giant pot of Marmite was due to arrive today from Amazon. So, I struggled into my slippers and hobbled down to the foyer. Sure enough, they (Amazon) had left the box, along with someone else’s, on the floor in the lobby. Both were crushed a bit in standard Amazon style. I managed to lift them both and went up with a lady I hadn’t seen for ages, who went to the 10th floor, and I went to the 12th. I took the other, not my box, the number 59, and there was no answer to my knocking on the door. So, I left it on the floor next to the door, and got back to my cell… I mean flat.
The previously purchased giant pot of Marmite is in a glass jar, next to the new large tub of Marmite. The new one has 100g more content! I still have some left to use on the old jar, which I plan to use later on my sausage sandwiches.

Ejaz came for a 13:00 visit. Foamed my legs again, they were leaking a little more then.

I decided on an early meal today. Even though there is a minute chance, as it may be, of a Community Nurse coming to change the catheter and patch the leaking legs up. The Neurology lady might be calling about the Trefination. The Financial help from Age UK is arriving. The Red Cross is to fix the wheelchair. The nurse is calling to administer the flu and COVID jabs. And the surgery nurse needs to give me a Dementia memory test.
None of these were done this week.
Whilst on a medical note, my fractured left knee and  right leg have both been more painful today. The evening events are a blur; there are no notes on the pad at all. I had sausage sarnies for my feast of the day – felt sure I’d photographed it, but none on the camera this morning? A combination of weariness, tiredness, and confusion lingered with me all night and was still present in the morning when I woke, barely able to walk due to the pain in my left knee and the aching, tingling sensations in my .

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 🤞🏻TTFN, EACH!🤞🏻

Inchie Today: Thursday 2nd October 2025

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I may be bleeding and painfully limping,
But these encourage me to remain hoping,
For my mind’s problems, there is no remedying,
My brain refuses my efforts at assubjugating,
I argue with myself, it’s antagonising,
Which voice is mine takes some recognising,
Nocturnally, Thought Storming Steve is berating,
Past errors, current ones, it’s so maddening…
Realising Steve is apparently me talking!
He never stops mocking, riling, and admonishing,
Denigrating, belittling, deprecating, derogating,
Amazingly, my hopes are not diminishing,
Despite his vilifying, discrediting, & excoriating,
I’m doing it again, blaming Steve, who is surely me?
My efforts to get help have been nugatory…
I own up to my mentality now in inadequacy,
Yet my responses to problems of similarity,
Vary so much, from depression to hilarity,
For in there somewhere, theoretically…
Is hope, hoping for help, but antediluvially,
Hope that the seizures will go away…
With the physical ailments, mahap one day,
My brain & body to again act harmoniously,
I now recognise mending my mind and body…
The very thought of it is pretty silly,
Yet hope lingers, despite the futility,
Things I believe happened do not stand scrutiny,
Yet at the time, I saw truth and credibility,
No doubt, no question, no need for justifiability,
With vagueness and doubts, I have to act cautiously…
Self-antagonism, self-hatred, even hostility,
When on a good day, I realise I’ve made errors aplenty…
Apportioning my hopes is not done clinically,
Whether for help with my heart failing, or my angiopathy,
But I cling to hope, hopefully!
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Good Morning
Calling the Community Nurses tonight, Carer Ejaz was on the phone for ages and was finally told to ring the Doctor’s Surgery. To point out the state of the feet.
Now this is something that would strike fear into any old person. Poor Ejaz rang them. I have no idea about what happened with the feet, but I heard him ask about the flu and the COVID jab. Three times he got cut off! On the fourth effort, he was told they would ring me – at this, Ejaz proved his worth again. The lad asked them to email me, as I’m hard of hearing. He’s not sure, but they said they would text me on the mobile. Of course, that was 7 hours ago, and still no text has come through. The nurse who was supposed to administer a memory test has not arrived. The Social Lay has not arrived. The Neurosurgeon has not contacted me yet. No signs of the Red Cross Support Team. And the Age Concern lady has not been in touch yet. There’s always hope. 
Ejaz gave me a good check over today. Body welts, acne, and eczema. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees, Cartilage Chloe, and foamed the Lymphorrhea Leslie’s legs and ankles. He’s a good lad for me to have visiting as a Carer. He even checked the Health Check monitoring to ensure I hadn’t made a mistake. Well, it has been known. Hehe!
He noted that the foot and ankle were looking better and took this snap on the left. On his last call of the day, we found that the leg’s Lymphoedema was leaking again. If it is in the morning, he’ll inform the district nurses. Not that either of us thinks that it will do us any good. We must try. 

I’ven’t got up so late in many a month. 07:15hrs. I was doing the ablutions and on the Throne when Ejaz arrived to sort me out. Glad to report that Constipation Konrad has lost some of his grip on the evacuations; still needed input to get moving, but once it started, it was easy-peasy.

I checked the emails and got a shock of a lifetime. Over £2000 less than last month in my account. I’m hoping that whoever volunteered to review my finances arrives before I run out of cash.

Photos Taken.

Ejaz sorts the prescription medications drawer.

Made a brew in the little mug.

Last leg check. Looking less marked now.

Nosh.

🤞🏻TTFN, EACH! 🤞🏻

Inchie Today: Wed 1st Oct 2025. Anne Gyna & Seizures ganged up on me.!

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Surprisingly, I’ve had a few firsts in my time,
Some worthless, some profitable, some worth a dime,
At eight, I was lured into the world of crime,
Got caught shoplifting, I served my time,
First in the family to play on stage – Jazz-Ragtime,
I was the first NHS patient to have arsphenamine,
Had my first punch-up during schooltime,
The teacher gave me six of the best, quick-time!

When of age, I became a bit of an alcho,
Fell over one night and broke my toe,
Off to the hospital I had to go,
Parked by a motorbike, and some aficionado…
said you can’t park there, you know…
Moved it, getting run into by a blood wagon,
The ambulance driver who had a fag on…
then took a guzzle from a flagon,
Nowt to do with this Ode…
But Anne Gyna just turned herself on!
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Wednesday, once again being designated as the long Carers call day, proved to be a busy one. However, Carer Ejaz proved to be a treasure again. It is already gone 19:0hrs, and this is as far as I’ve got with this blog. Disappointments flourished, the seizures, those mini ones became microscopic ones, which took a lot of time to recover from again. A Mega-Foul-Up again, another food delivery arrived! I’m so disappointed with myself… also, angry!
I thought my concentration was bad yesterday; it was even worse today.
Without Carer Ejaz, today would have been a complete and utter calamity! He got the laundry sorted out and mopped the kitchen for me as well.
I fear that things may have got a little muddled as I translated from the barely readable notepad I’d scribbled on as reminders.
The new private nurse contracted from the NHS to administer DVT Warfarin injections for blood testing proved to be a non-communicative individual. And for the first time ever, bruises were left and a lot of belated bleeding. Naturally, this brought back the misery of losing Nurse Christina, with her charm, compassion, wit, and caring nature. Hristina is sadly missed already.
The mini-seizures were countless; there were so many. And, Anne Gyna was on and off all day and night long. But in the morning, she was AWOL.
Carer Ejaz, on his last call, pointed out that the left foot, in particular, had swollen, and I was experiencing pain under the middle right toe again. The left toes had sort of warped. The foot top & ankle had blown up and were a smidge tender. He said if they were the same in the morning, he’d call the Community nursing number and inform them of the situation. Bless him.

Not much to report today, sorry. Most of it is just me moaning to myself about seizures, Ann Gyna, mistakes made, etc.

And my concentration is now even worse than it was yesterday. I’ll do my best to complete this task, but please note that it may not be polished, grammatically correct, or politically correct.

End car park.

Food repetition & cock-up

Marmite roast potatoes, cheesy bread rolls spread with Marmite, and Solokow Polish sausages. Eaten with a bag of Marmite crisps! Lovely!

WORLD PEACE, HARMONY, COMPASSION; MY DREAMS!
BUT THERE IS LITTLE CHANCE NOW, IT SEEMS.

Meanwhile, as I wait, Sweet Dreams!

Inchie: Tues 30th Sept 2025. Busy Day, Seizures return.

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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Not a good day. So not much of a blog, sorry.
I took some photographs, which may help me remember things. A few notes to use from early on, before the mayhem began.
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07:15 I woke up and went to the Porcelain Throne. 
0735 hours: I was still battling Constipation Conrad, and Carer Ejaz arrived. Ejaz did another good job for me. He foamed the legs and ankles. Then Phorpain gelled the Arthur Itis-suffering knees, both painful Cartilages, of Chloe and Carol. Then, we carried out the Health Checks and recorded the results.

I took a snap of the end car park and the front car parks from the balcony.
Taking the first one through the glass, so it was not a good one. For the front one, I opened a window to take it. Trapped my finger closing the window mechanism.

Made a small mug of extra-strong Typhoo tea, and updated the clock calendar. The hearing aids are working again!

I pretended to tidy up the Carer’s desk with quite a few nibbles and medications scattered around. 

Then, my most beloved DVT Warfarin nurse, Hristina, came to see me. Sadly, with confirmation that she will no longer be calling on me. Sob! Krudnuts! I could have cried. She’s called in to tell me this devastating news and give me two bottles of Krakus concentrated beetroot borscht. Bess her! The NHS have hired a private firm to take the blood now, and tomorrow will be their first call. A depression should have arrived then by rights and circumstances, but the kind thought of her coming to let me know herself, and with the wonderful gifts, it was weirdly only that appeared. Odd, that.

After her final farewell, I gave her a kiss; she didn’t object, just thanked me, and a smile blossomed on her face. This smile will not be forgotten, nor will Hristina. 🤎 I got the feeling of guilt for trying to sink me, but couldn’t. Although, of course, when the sad news dropped into my brain, DDDD took over.

As soon as I realised I’d made a muck-up when the Morrison food order for next Tuesday… arrived!
Now I was sinking fast!



Food.

After this was put away, a bit of self-lambasting was issued. Curses etc… The return of the mini-seizures arrived. After every one of them, it took me ages to come around, to reconcentrate, lose the shakes. Still, they have been kind to me since I got back from the hospital, I must say… until today. Hahaha!

I think I may have got things wrong, missed off or repeated… the wrong day, or the bad timing. Can’t cope very well today. The seizures, although extra-mini in length, are a devil to recover from… and I had plenty of practice today and night.

Good Luck in Love & Money

I’ve got none of either, but am available for consultation!

Inchie Used Cartoons: Dedicated to pensioner robbing, liar Keir Starmer

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Hope they raise a laugh!

Inchie: Monday 29th September 2025

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At times, we can all get a feeling of melancholy,
Though maybe not members of the oligarchy,
Leading to depression & Godforsakenly,
Depression Darius, brings thoughts sepulchrally, 
When one copes with life, so inadequately…
You’ll end up feeling dejected, inconsolably,
You accept failures almost consentingly,
Wrongs beyond being put right, lamentably,
Each day brings challenges, physically,
On the same par as those mentally,
Seizures arrive unexpectedly, episodically,
Changing your responses, mostly erratically,
Often dwelling on thoughts elegiacally,
Bringing on doubts of your own mentality,
But I doubt you’re good at it, it’s your speciality…
As with fears, worries, making many a Whoopsie,
Accifauxpas, unaware, incogniscent of reality… 
Yet aware of life’s impracticality,
Self-hatred, self-lambasting daily, invariably,
Seventy-eight, but still acting adolescently,
Lacking in life experiences, still awaiting maturity, 
My infected brain shows a lack of ambiguity,
I missed out on debauchery, immorality, & indecency,
I was fondled in my youth by the Vicar of St Trinity,
Doreen’s Dementia brought me mental otiosity,
In the name of wealth, I feel repugnancy
I feel repugnancy at the world’s hostility…
I see the coming of worldwide anarchy,
Surrounded by complexity, difficulty… little subtlety,
Nothing to get one feeling a little chirpy…
I believe that Starmer acted reprehensibly,
When stealing the pensioners’ fuel subsidy,
Ruining family farmers, scandalously,
Taking backhanders from the Oligarchy,
Lying to the WASPI women atrociously,
Turn-coating, lying; reprehensibly!
Proving that was so untrustworthy,
He lied professionally at the Old Bailey,
He got into power, dishonestly…
He lied to win the Labour leadership, honestly!
Backed Corbyn’s policies, lyingly…
Said he’d cut tuition fees, wrongly,
National water, energy & the railway…,
He’s handed over UK fishing rights, the EU say,
For another 12 years, he’s loony!
Finding an honest MP? Hard work, operosity,
Now I study things, like universal ontosophy…
Thanks to my much belated opsimathy,
I see Starmer & Putin seeking omnipotency,
While living my last years so obsequiously,
World leaders are full of self-greed and obstinacy,
Populations now adopting discord, oppugnancy,
Curiosity, AI, political mendacity, no Omniety,
Some Governments are showing signs of ochlocracy,
Less compassion, too much oppositionality,
Even those who are not a democracy,
Keirs ace at deceit, lying and knavery…
Swindling, double-dealing, repeatedly!
Ditched Labour core values, acrimoniously,
Sneeringly, derisively, nastily & offensively,
Just think, life was meant to go algorithmically,
Procedurally, systematically, methodologically,
Programmatically, formulaically, and undeniably…
If you study these tips, investigatively…
Other options, such as malodorously,
Then, mysteriously, musingly, then melancholy,
So back to Starmer, who is not deprecatory…
And is not a Socialist, more like a Tory,
But I come to the end of this Ode, or story,
Not depressed, but feeling a little effervescently,
As High-Mood-Horis paid another visit to Inchie!
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Here we go again! Thud!
I’m beginning to wonder what’s going on around me, lately. Problems, difficulties, farces, memory lapses, seizures, bad news, and a mind that didn’t really seem to be mine at all. It may not be!

25 minutes spent on the Porcelain Throne this morning. 

Carer Ejaz arrived and set about sorting me out. He dealt out the prescription medications. Performed a body check, resulting in some creaming of the ankle and legs, and pain in the back and both Cartilages, affecting Chloe and Carol. And barrier creamed my lower regions front and back. Then became my saviour for the first time today. I was searching earlier for the charging plug for the vacuum cleaner. Could I find it? No! I spent ages searching, eventually giving up, and hoped Carer Ejaz might know where it was. It (I thought at the time) was certainly not in the main room, after all, I’d been ferreting and searching for it for that long. I asked if he knew where it was, and he started looking around. Within three minutes, he was handing me the missing plug. I’d left it on the black side table, and with the plug being the same colour, I managed not to see it during my panicky search. Fool? Me? Yes!
Ejaz graded the urine in the nocturnal pouch, then emptied it for me. He’s a good lad. I’d be lost without him calling. Ejaz then helped me with the BP checks, ensuring the Arithmaphobia had allowed me to write the correct numbers for each item in the Excel list.

I popped out on the balcony to take a snap of the end car park on Citrus Way, through the window. It didn’t come out well.

Elaz filled a bowl of hot water and disinfectant for me to wash my tootsies in and departed on his way. I’m getting close to being capable of doing this task nowadays. I use large kitchen towels to dry the feet on, using the picker-upperer to dry them off.

The blotching on the left leg was far less than it had been. It still amazes me how these can change daily; they looked great on the left leg, but not so with the right one. You can see the difference in the photo on the left here. The Cartilages seemed less bothersome this morning as well. And the legs had lost all of their swelling. Amazing, back to chicken legs now.

I took a snap catching the shadows made as the sun rose from behind the flats. It reminded me of a castle casting its shadow. 

I started much belatedly on yesterday’s blog catch-up. I had the only recognised seizure of the morning, a mini-one, and you would not believe how Much I was disoriented when I came out of it. It lasted for hours and never really cleared up at all. My concentration was crippled for the rest of the day. 
Talk about cock-ups! As I recall, I uploaded the photos to the wrong page in CorelDraw, placing them on Mondays, not Sundays. Even more time lost, losing precious time again. That was eventually corrected, except for my mistake of putting the wrong cartoon on each. Grumph!
I made a Morrison order for Tuesday after next. Then I would start wandering about, taking on other jobs and not finishing them as I found another to do. I suspect I was afraid of making more mistakes on the blog, which is why I avoided doing the very thing I set out to do. I hope you’re following this, because I’m struggling, and not a bit.

The Nurse from Cardiac called about the blood and heart monitors being set up. Giving me a chance to avoid getting back on the blog.

Then, to avoid making of bigger mess on the blog, I phoned Sister Jane. As I rang off, depressing Darius arrived and has stayed with me all day, up to now. 

Then I thought it would be better than messing up the blog, so I’d Speed Mop the kitchen floor. Could I find the speedmop? No, of course not. 

Ejaz called. Always glad to see the lad, even on a ten-minute visit. For the second time today, the lad was a saviour. He found the mop, not only that, but I think he recognised my uptight mood; he mopped the floor for me, before leaving on his way to his next client.
A kind lad, indeed. Thanks, Ejaz!

I reluctantly got the computer booted to try and force myself of of this Depression Darius mood.
It did not work!
While making notes of things to go on the blog, I thought the computer must have gone into sleep mode. So, O tapped the enter key a few times… that didn’t do anything. So, as the depression deepened, and the self-lambasting started… the mobile burst forth. It was the Doctor’s surgery, where I was told to expect a call tomorrow about the prescription medications. I was feeling so down that I didn’t ask what it was about or at what time; I just thanked her, saying that was alright, I’d be in all day. I was going to add, night, week, month, unless I have another tumble of the heart gives out, or jump off the balcony and snuff it – but I didn’t.

Carer Ejaz arrived, and I felt obligated to thank the lad for his help and explain how and why I was not my usual cheery self today. Obviously, I am greatly missing .
He appeared out of nowhere three months ago. He solved nothing, but installed a marvellous never had before “Sod-Em-All” attitude in me, that was abso-bloody-lutely brilliant! He visited me once while I was in hospital… Great! However, I haven’t seen or heard of him since. I could spit!
If ever he was needed, he is now!

I may be feeling a tad sorry for Horis’s missing?

I got the bread out to defrost and set about making a vegetable stew, of sorts… or something of that nature. Casserole? Soup?

HEALTH & SAFETY TIP OF THE DAY
Scenario: You’ve opened a tin of peas & carrots.
Cleaned and trimmed some red spring onions, sliced them, and added them to the stewpot. Then, I opened a can of water chestnuts and sliced a few up to add to the faux stew. Slice the just-boiled potatoes and mix them in the dish. Lastly, you add some fresh sliced tomatoes and red peppers from a jar.
You place them in a microwave dish, and put them in the oven… Then… you get distracted by the sunshine coming out, and decide to go on the balcony to take a photo – this doesn’t happen, because, and this is the H&S Tip bit.
When going into the medical-equipment-filled balcony, don’t get carried away with the gorgeous sky. There is every chance (like tonight) that you will walk into the sticking-out metal footrests of the wheelchair. This is not recommended!
Result!

Then, after a quick wipe and Germolen applied, back to the overcooked stew thingamajig.
Nice, all the same.

🤞🏻TTFN, EACH! 🤞🏻

Inchie: Sunday 28th September 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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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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Inchie: Saturday 27th September 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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1 believe I came across a phenomenon,
A prognostication visiting the psychometrician,
The man was a bit of a pecksniffian…
He asked if I indulge in procreation…
He noticed my tackle was positively pygmean,
We didn’t get as far as any prognostication,
One trait I have plenty of is being plebeian,
His suggestion, for my next Odes pultrusion…
My ailments & failures, now in profusion,
Said my heart failure is down to poor perfusion,
I’m not sure if he was a Doctor, a homoeopath, or a surgeon…
A consultant, obstetrician, or a prison physician,
Was it I or he who was the pigwidgeon?
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Ejaz graded this dollop as a 7½ rating.

Carers desk.
Rubbish bags.

Washed nightshirt hanging to dry

A murder of crows.
Regaining their territory. Young ones searching for carrion in the end car park. All part of parent training.

A much-belated start on this blog.

Must call Sister Jane in the morning. And Jenny, too.

A day of without a single visit from, also perhaps the brain-foggiest one since I got back from the hospital.
The increased pain from the knee fractures was tolerable. However, they eased suddenly at night, and for hours I could walk about with relatively little pain. Naturally, in the morning, they were back again, but it was an unexpected experience that I enjoyed. But I would have preferred to have had a visit from . Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany were both far less painful, too.
It was my brain that worried me a smidgeon. Active, but wayward, and when I got to sleep, activated and ruined what otherwise would have been a decent 5-hour kip.
Constantly waking up, and getting back asleep, only to find that was waiting for me. I got to the point of trying not to nod off again, and lay there mind-blankly waiting fearfully for the inevitable dropping off again, and of course, he just would not leave me alone. Churning over past errors, options taken, guilt creating and multiple embarrassing memories… non-stop. Of course, I am aware that it is me, my warped brain. This was like a self-lambasting, everlasting nocturnal period of self-hatred. Despite the knee agony that had returned, I had to go through the pain of getting up to go to the Porcelain Throne… and that was still controlled by , and only wind was passed. But that was better than listening and arguing with myself mentally. Steve had not been bothering me for ages; even in the hospital, he was noticeable by his absence.
I suppose I’ll have to mention this to the Neurologist at the meeting. Here, on the blog, I just tell it as it is. But sitting face-to-face with someone to say to them is a different experience. Hey-ho!
You never know, I might wake up in the morning, somersault out of bed while yodelling and do a backflip… free of pain, vision and hearing repaired and working, or not.

And that was only a fleeting morning visit.


I believe my brain has lost its perception
logicality, discrimination & elucidation

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Inchie: Friday 26th September 2025 – Medical appointments flooding in

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Pondering his theme, for his Ode this Friday…
Sometimes an idea comes to him immediately,
But you know Inchies’ unreliable memory!
His themes get intermingled, like a musical medley,
Differing, wrong words creep in meddlesomely,
Guaranteeing the resulting ode is, at best, mediocrity,
Gets a phone call or visit, back to his odeing for Inchie,
His themes and ideas, now written nonsensically…
The chances of a Seizure will naturally…
Inspire a blank brain, ideas, inspirations go aborally,
He waits for the return of logicality, contemptibly,
Starts feeling sorry for himself, self-piteously,
Which leaves his creativity in assymmetry…
Dawns, distressingly,
does not show up; depressingly,
Inchie stops, can’t cope, has had enough… feels sleepy?
Inchie climbed into bed, but it was agony…
From the thrice-fractured left hand and knee,
Carer Ejaz assisted me, helpfully…
To get stood up back on my knee… 
Ah, that stirred a thought, for me personally, 
My Fracture Clinic appointment at the QMC!
I have to arrange transport for Friday, October 23,
Both ways, to be at the fracture clinic for 13:30,
Carer Ejaz called & spotted another Inchie whoopsie!
The appointment was for 22nd October, not for 23…
He’s aware of my problems physically & mentally…
Checked an online order, I’d ordered a Christmas Tree!
He did not act in any way risibly…
Just cancelled it, and had a laugh with me!
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I reluctantly woke up. Realised how late it was for me, gone 06:00hrs – and forced myself through the agony of the much-fractured left knee pains up on my feet.
In the midst of this suffering, I had a visit, the first in a week or so, from Anne Gyna.
She seemed to be concentrating on my mid-chest area, which at first made me a bit concerned that it might not be Anne, but rather another new ailment related to the ticker. But by the time I’d done my morning balance testing, she’d nipped around the right side and had a stab at the left side of the neck, then returned to concentrate on the chestbone area, so I knew it was Anne Gyna and had stopped fretting about the situation. A pain you know, is better than any new pains, methinks.

I saved some of the contents after emptying the nocturnal catheter pouch into the pot I keep for such matters, so Carer Ejaz could check the colour.

I hobbled into the wet room for a fruitless and movement-free evacuation. Still, there was nothing to clean up. Hehe!  The other three visits of the day were all the same. An extraordinary amount of wind escapage, but no movement from the innards, torpedo-wise. Mmm!

The much-fractured left knee seemed even more painful today. (And it got worse on Saturday!

I got stripped and ready to tackle the medicationing and have a good scrub-up, and Carer Ejaz came.
He found some out-of-date things in the fridge and removed them for me. He told me to remember to check them every day and to remind him to… We both laughed out loud as we realised what he’d just said; His telling-me-of-frown melted in a big grin, as he saw the look of credibility on my face, and he said, “Oh, I realise what I just said – I asked you to remind me!” The shared laughter had us both in a fun mood in seconds. We do have a laugh regularly, but this one was even funnier than ever. Hahaha!
Me, remind him? There would be a greater chance of Herr Starmer admitting he’s incapable, a liar, and then topping himself. (But we all need hope).

I think Ejaz and I both missed each other while I was incarcerated in the Cardiac, Geriatric and Fracture Wards in the Queens Medical Centre for so long. With dear, sweet Jenny welcoming me back and the joy on Ejaz’s face when I got home, those moments were precious for me. I am a big softy!

Ejaz got the diabetic sock on my feet. Did a body check and Porpained gelled the knees and cartilages. He spotted a red patch under my right arm and put some Barrier cream on for me. 
He read the letter from the fracture clinic and was dubious about their suggestion that if I stayed off my feet, things might improve without the need for surgical intervention, given my age.

Back to the wet room, and took another failed evacuation. Seems it is the turn of Conrad Constipation to rule things for a while.

I am now at the page, where I was writing things down while in a mini-seizure. Cause it appears a lot of things started happening, but most of them are unreadable scribbles and far too meaningless, with the odd line of clarity. A bit like Ex-Barrister and Pensioner-Robbing Starmer? The event that followed lasted for approximately five hours. About a quarter of the notes here were readable, so a lot was missing. Even Ejaz couldn’t make them out. The odd words that I was certain of have comments of a “take-it-with-a-pinch-of-salt” about them. 

A letter from the fracture clinic. I managed to get mixed up with it in classic “Inchie Style”. Saturday, Ejaz pointed out I’d recorded the appointment in the Google Calendar for the wrong day and time.
Hard to believe, I know! Well…

A District nurse called on me to ask a load of questions. I could not make out anything else I wrote about this, but it was a page & a bit long.

A phone call (Mobile) from the Neurosurgeon’s office arrived. After a few minutes, as I didn’t understand much of what was said, we lost the connection. This new mobile phone is rubbish!

Another call from the DVT Warfarin Unit came in (Landline). An appointment has been made for October 1st for the Warfarin Blood Test. I think they are responding to each of the blood tests taken in the hospital, I was having about eight a day, I reckon. I’ve got pretty bruise patterns on both arms and the back of each hand; they are fading now, just as I was getting used to them. Laugh? Yes?

The following three items were unreadable. Possibly, I was writing them while in a Seizure, the nurse said. How can that be? Beats me.

Rubbish bins tackled.

Can’t recall taking this.

Ejaz, on his teatime call, spotted that the burgers in the fridge had sell-by dates for today.
So, I’ll get them done with some chips for supper.

I tried to sort out how to take the wheelchair pads on and off. Hehe! Not the foggiest idea!

Bootifull!
For an unknown reason, I got chest pains after, even while eating this meal. Indigestion, I imagine. Taking Peptac didn’t ease it at all. I took a Codeine 30g.

An amazing sky tonight.

I got a late landline call from the DVT Warfarin lady. They will be calling on me on the 1st of October to take blood for testing. I feel I got a call like this yesterday. But who knows what’s going on? It’s indeed not me. My mind has always been confused over the last few days. I’ve been saved several times from making a blunder by Carer Ejaz (4), Sweet Jenny (2) and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden Deana (1).
I’m not exactly in a confident mood whatsoever at the moment. My mind seems to be changing from incompetent to… well, it’s not working correctly at all. High-Mood-Horis has abandoned me. My evacuations have gone from watery, not making it to the Porcelain Throne in time, to over the last two days, nothing but wind has passed from my rear end. I must ask Carer Ejaz to give me some Laxido. I dare not ask him until tomorrow, for fear of nocturnal torrents escaping while I’m in bed tonight. I suppose I’m morphing into a mental & physical wreck. Oh, I like that description, oh yes, spot on, and witty!

Which will go first, I wonder? The ticker’s obviously now an odds-on favourite. Maybe Duodenal Donald, or now that she’s back and in good form, maybe Anne Gyna will nobble me? 

Ideally, whichever ailment or body part that knobbles me… I might make a an odds list? Hehe!
Which ailment will have me over? Cartilage Chloe? The newly fractured left knee? Anne Gyna? Water on the brain? Will Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding? No, the ticker failing is my favourite. If only High-Mood-Horis would visit with his gift of installing one of his amazingly satisfying “Sod-them-all” moods. Then it wouldn’t matter. Not that it matters much anyway. If High-Mood-Horis would only pay me a visit. Especially when Dark-Dank-Depressing Darius is dawning without warning, and his blessed “Sod-them-all” mood, would be so welcome.

There’s no question nor doubt about it…

As I was writing this, ♫Oh, Susana♫ burst from the door chime as Carer Ejaz made his last call. Glad to see him, I always am. But, unfortunatley, after he’d departed, I’d forgotten what I was going to write, and what there was no question nor doubt about!
But I’m there was no doubt… Sad,innit?

Humph! Thank heavens for Ejaz coming.

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Have a Blessed Peaceful Day!
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