Inchy’s Ode: Tuesday 3rd June 2025

04/06/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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Found this on the SD Card. Wonder how old it is?
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What’s missing today brings one misery,
There’ll be about twenty-thousand and three,
My Sister emigrated to Brisbane,
The furthest I got, Scotland, Balloch & Haldane,
Oh, and a week’s angling in Lockerbie,
I acted in a school play once as Moriarty,
Changes have created a dangerous medley,
Off fear, concern, anguish, & soon rioting…
I see the growth of greed, jealousy and hating,
Mostly from Trump, Putin & Starmer,
Anger from every pensioner and family farmer,
Where do you see understanding and compassion?
We have peace & generosity all on ration,
Depression, frustration, it’s not surprising,
Heating costs and food prices, ever-rising,
Violence facing it’s own final curtain,
We no longer fear the visit to the mortuary,
Political actions draw only disdain,
Wars, threats of it, again & again,
The world’s now an Oligarchs paradise…
Ammunition, rockets, deaths on the rise,
Oligarchs, with their financial acrobatics,
Oligarchs; ethically bare, the awfullest,
Weapons sold to any antagonist,
Atheists, antifascists, or apologists?
False regrets and lies, but no affidavits,
Oligarchs, the financial-alchemists,
Keir plods on, unknowingly muddleheadedly,
He lies so well, for a barrister he used to be,
Bending facts & figures to fit so easily…
With his plans to rule singularly,
But I’ve digressed again, as you can see,
When will humankind be war-free?
When we all die, suicidally!
Ah, well, I’ll make a mug of tea.
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03:50hrs, Catheter pouch sorted. Trotsky Terence Porcelain Throne visit. Took an early morning view. Ablutions and Health Checks were done.
Porcelain Throne second visits.
07:10hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived.

Made a brew.
Terrible photo.

Liberty-Global owned
TV took 12 attempts to start, all of which failed.
The 13th try, and I got it!

The internet froze, but worse of all, the computer stopped allowing me to import any photographs.

Carer Joe got the card reader to work, but the next time I tried, it had stopped working again. I spent hours trying to get it to work, but it looks like the end of importing photos again.

The computer suddenly went into full-screen mode. With being uptight, the hands and fingers were a bit shaky, so it might have been me pressing something wrongly on the keyboard? Two more hours searching for the action needed to escape the full screen.
Angry and frustrated again. After trying various combinations and failing, I accidentally right-clicked on the screen, and in the options, I found one to escape full screen! (F12).
I spent more time today patching and addressing problems related to Oligarchal Liberty Global, which owns Virgin Media, including issues with the computer, internet, and TV. Unreal, angering and depressing! Pissed-offedness Ruled!.

Tried saving everything and closing all programs to try to recover the photos.

Two shots of the clouds were taken earlier.
The computer allowed me to gain access after Car Joe’s second attempt to resolve the problem. Thanks, Joe. It won’t last, I’m sure, but great!
To the left.
To the right of the kitchen window.
Catching some of the balcony.

This issue arose while I was working on the Ode.

Carer Joe was a saviour again for me. Joe did the teatime visit. And I realised I’d got it all wrong about the Doctor coming to see me tomorrow! It’s me, thanks to Joe’s help in taking me to the surgery and coming in with me to help with any questions I may have which I struggle to answer. He knows my problems and can relate to them better than I can nowadays. Thus, tomorrow, the blog may be missing again. I reckon Wednesday is gonna be another busy day for the old fart.

Made a quick snack; I wasn’t up to getting a meal made, and turned on the Liberty-Global Oligarchs TV… Always with prayer and crossed fingers. It usually goes through a loading process and goes to programme listings. (That’s providing it starts at all, anyway). But not this time.
It went straight to a full screenshot.
I appreciate that I get easily baffled. And thus I was.
For a few moments, confused. I pressed the up channel button to see what would happen, but nothing. Then pushed the knob for listings, and it came up. It seems the channel I was on was one of those ‘Unwind with ITV’ programmes, with supposedly a peaceful scene and gentle music.
Well, now I know.

Carer Elaz did the last two calls. I forgot to tell him both times that the catheter day pouch and muslin bag needed to be changed. I hope I remember in the morning. So I don’t go to the Doctor for the examination stinky-phooing!

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I’m Flipping Frustrated!
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Inchy’s Ode: Monday 2nd June 2025

03/06/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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He’s a cross between Thatcher & Starmer,
Neither was classed exactly as a charmer,
Kier is more Conservative than Labour,
MP’s fall asleep at his symposia,
Backhanders, concerts; a bit of a wassailer?
Opposition Parties are quite, whichever,
The Tory party’s still at the repairer,
Lib-Dems, maybe the only other gainer,
Their objections are even weaker,
Labour seems to have a non-talking speaker,
The SDP, with 122 candidates in the country,
SDP? Thats the Social Democratic Party,
The WP, Workers Party, candidates, 23,
41 standing for The Heritage Party,
Trade Unionist and Socialist Coalition, TUSC,
How many candidates is a mystery,
10 standing for the Hampshire Independents Party,
The Climate Party, Animal Welfare Party, three,
The Official Monster Raving Loony Party,
And the Peace Party, which sounds good to me,
Only one candidate; they should ask Inchy,
That would show some authenticity,
I could, maybe, form a big enough party…
I’ll ask my WP friends to join me,
Tim, Paul, Timothy, Doug, with Andy?
I’ll get back to reality,
And, wish Keir’d hasten to his sepulture,
As every pensioner & family farmer,
Carer Joe left after reading this, gigglingly,
Sorry…
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It is now 19:15hrs.
And as far as I’m aware, I’ve only had 2 seizures throughout the day. Short ones. Good!

Throughout the day, Oligarchs’ Liberty Global-owned faux internet, telephone, mobile , and TV supplier Virgin Media experienced issues or stopped working. The TV stopped four times, the internet twice, cut off my panic alarm, and stopped both outgoing and incoming calls. Incidentally, Liberty-Global boss, CEO Mike Fries: His earnings have been a topic of public interest, particularly in 2021 when his total compensation reached $62 million. However, in 2020, his pay decreased to $44.9 million. In 2019, a significant portion of his compensation was front-loaded due to a multi-year contract, resulting in a total package of $123.2 million. His recurring compensation in 2019 was $44.7 million. No mention of the previous open-ended expense account.
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Photographs. Not many, but still, blame the CEO of Oligarchs at Liberty-Global for that. Thanks. Grrr!

First shot of the sky.

Morning nocturnal pouch.

Clouds to the left…
Clouds to the right.
Both Bootiful nature?

Morning vacuuming.
A bad photographic effort. Tsk!

Beef in pea stew (olive oil).
I added a pot of Kung Po.
Added some water chestnuts.
Pickled mushrooms.
Not bad at all.
A sourdough baguette.

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I turned on the news. Turned it off.
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Inch’s Ode: Saturday 31st May 2025

31/05/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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BONUS STARMER CARTOON
Did you notice that I’m now getting some graphics on the blog?
Yesterday, Carer Joe tried to help me with the CorelDraw problems. But more options were removed after our efforts.
Until this morning, I half-heartedly opened CorelDraw, fully expecting things to be the same or worse… And blow me down, it let me save graphics. Photos were still a no-no, though. So, I put this very anti-Starmer cartoon that I couldn’t the other day.
I enjoyed making this one up.
Sincere thanks to Carer Joe; he’s saved the day again!
I hope it doesn’t revert again. PLEASE DON’T 🙏🏼
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My heart was broken, abscinded…
They wanted litter pickers; I volunteered,
In amongst us, I spotted cuddly Enid,
My loins became suddenly girded,
My passion and desire, both venerated…
toward and for my new love & desire,
We romped within the floral architecture,
We fondled passion on the agenda,
Will she agree? I needed an answer,
But I was young and a chancer,
Miraculous that she acquiesced,
The primroses looked more azure,
There was a lot of her to admire,
My passion was on fire…
Our naughtiness got higher,
Amidst enjoying our knee-trembler,
Who should appear but her father!
I ended up in the hospital, in discomfiture,
He visited me, I was suitably annunciated…
My passion was now entirely abrogated,
Enid? Didn’t see her again, I was rejected,
Naturally, depressed and dejected
Till I met a Spanish gal named Soledad,
I never saw her family, especially her Dad,
From weekly romps to several daily, they escalated,
I thought they’d be ever-established,
Even then, I was denuded,
Hope it gave you a Smile?
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Plenty of ‘Giddy-Spells today.
Thought I’d just mention it.

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TTFNski, Each!
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Inchy’s Ode: Friday 30th May 2025

31/05/2025 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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I had a great idea, all be told,
To go into today’s Inchy Ode,
I was unshirted, & the brain unsorted,
To the Porcelain Throne, I ventured,
The motion was being prevented,
Constipation Conrad; I was tortured,
An hour later, the torpedo appeared…
To the blood & pain, I was not enured,
It painfully slowly came out, multicoloured,
I felt my innards being distorted…
The monster stuck, it was unimparted,
Surprisingly plopping, it was aerated!
Back to the Ode, but it had to be aborted,
I think my memory box had busted,
My mind & body, both beleaguered,
Back to the WC, I almost blubbered,
I got the second torpedo out painfully,
Then, a brainwave came to me…
I’d lost the Ode’s plot, alarmingly,
I’d tell you of the WC barbarity,
I had to make visits again, how many? Three!
I thought I might take up residency…
Arthur Itis’ knees, both rheumaticky,
Since the Covid jab, I’ve felt so sleepy,
But I’ve not lost it completely…
My brain is acting somewhat whimsically,
Another tumble, another Whoopsie!
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TTFN’ski

Inchy: Wed, Thur 30th May 2025 The end of an era

30/05/2025 / Inchie / 14 Comments

Now, CorelDraw will not let me save or import any graphics or photos at all! Even the ones I took in the afternoon!

Wednesday 28th
Horrible busy day. I took pictures in the morning and got graphics on.
Carer Joe arrived. And he set to sorting the junk room.
Wore me out.

I was peed off when I realised the CorelDraw problem.
I don’t understand it at all.

Thursday.
The nurse came to administer the COVID-19 injection.
I remember last year and the three days of sleeping that followed. It did again.

Friday.
CorelDraw has blanked out all the options on the screen. Can’t import, export, save, or copy anything…
I’ve really had enough.
Can’t see any help on the horizon.
But I’ll bother Carer Joe again when he calls next. And ask if his lads can help me sort out the problem.
With tax, CorelDraw cost me £449 plus this year, and I can’t use it!

I could, indeed have been crying. Sorry for myself.
I’d like to pull out of it all together.
The lads may help me in doing that, I hope.

When I get over this sleepiness and tiredness, whenever that may be, I’ll try to get the spirit to do a graphicless, or use an old one for a daily Ode on its own daily. But my spirits are so low.

I’ve never felt lower.
I also have a lot of comments to catch up on, as well as WP Reader. I’ll do them as soon as I can after posting this saddest of blogs.

Sorry about this.
Cheers.
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 27th May 2025

30/05/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

28/05/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

Rubbish bags are made ready to go.

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

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

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

Early meal.

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

Carer Ejaz was surprised again.
Hahaha!
He took off the diabetic day socks.
And took these photos of me in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Then, the state of the legs while he put some
Phorpain gel on the lesions and barrier cream.
Do my legs look mishappen to you? Not complaining, though. They were far less aglow tonight.

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

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

27/05/2025 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Not sure about this photo either.

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

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

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

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

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

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Friday 23rd May 2025

24/05/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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

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

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

A proper quicky.

05:00hrs up, nocturnal pouch off.

Mopped kitchen floor.

Ablutions & Medicationing where I could reach.

3 cuts shaving

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

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

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

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

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

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

23/05/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

Made up some new templates for WordPress.

Window Cleaner. Costly!

Carer Mirza, nice lad.

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

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

Carer Nagan did the next call.

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

Blood pressure was high.

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