Acne and Ezcema

Inchy (Unwell) Today: Friday 21st March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

Cavendish Vale

CorelDraw problems again.

This might be out of sync timewise?

Green skies, as well.
I’m colour-blind on red/greens, so you
may not see the colour I do.
Protanopia: This is a severe form of
red-green colour blindness where 
individuals are unable to perceive
red lights at all. 
I looked this up on my NHS list.
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After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, in hopes of nodding off.
Well, it was great! Five straight hours without interruption. Until and kicked off.
Five hours is more than I’ve had over the last three days.
No bother from , , or either of the Cartilages. !

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Flaunt a Fiesta Full of Funny Frivolity!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 8th March 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Just look at the figures for this week!
And the urine colours are better, to boot!

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Do you remember your girl-seeking soirees?
The eroticism, desire, the enamoredness,
Your hopes are to find and have affairs du Coeur,
The wooing, the seduction, the wassails?
As your lustfulness, starting with snuggling…
Would your flirting end in seductioning?
Your aim is for physical entangling!
I wasn’t very good at romancing,
I was usually one of the wannabes…
Hoping one day I’d stop failing,
For me, few gals had a vacancy…
This didn’t stop me from trying,
Most ended up with threnodies,
I rarely got as far as groping,
I’d often fail to hit the high-jinks,
That’s why I’m sitting here crying…
My efforts were more like conjecture,
Not easy with a todger that’s miniature,
Turned down; a smile I’d manufacture,
I’ll have to pull myself together,
I always look back and see only failure,
Now I’m an enforced refrainer,
Not only am I getting older…
If any lady was to offer…
How could I remove the catheter?
Soirees no more, I have to surrender!
And without enough cash to go on a bender!
From the local yobbery, could buy a snorter?
Still, I’ve a good week on my sphygmomanometer.
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05:30hrs; I rose from the sweet, if broken, 5-hour sleep.
Feeling rather good, actually. I tended to the nocturnal catheter bag. Sorted the bins.

I took a snap of the morning view from the kitchen.

Then, I visited the wet room, initially to utilise the Porcelain Throne. TT was again in charge.

I decided to get the Ablutions done while I was in good shape. I started with the teggies and then the shaving.
Several were acquired. All on the rear part of the neck, so I didn’t see any blood until after they’d dripped onto my back and the wet room floor. More mess to clean up, but I did it without any Accifauxpas! Smug-Mode!
I showered, a quick one. Then, I dried off and started the medicationings. Usual routine. No problems with it. I was beginning to think I might still be in bed, sleeping and dreaming about what was happening. Things were unnaturally going well for me – it’s worrying. Hehehe!

I heard the door chime as I was fighting to get the protection pants on. The Carer Promise was arriving. He waited patiently for me to finish after I asked him if he minded. He was a lovely lad. After dishing out the medications, he read some dates I could not see on the fridge, then departed on his rounds. Thanks, mate.

COMPUTER COCK-UP!
Old Photo used
I’d been working on the blog. I went to fetch a drink from the fridge and tried to continue. 
The blog would not let me scroll, and words were highlighted when I was doing nothing.
 Then, a screen came up full of details that meant nothing to me. I spotted on one of the ever-changing usage lines that a Google engineer or assistant was working on it. I left it alone, hoping that whatever he was doing would solve the issue, and went to put some potatoes in the slow cooker for later.
I returned several minutes later, and the window was not showing, and I cheered a bit. Then I noticed two Google thingamibobs were open and was unsure which to open.
I chose one randomly.
ARRGH!
All the top intro things I’d done for over two hours had vanished! I had to start again. But at least it let me type and scroll again. I think I’m feeling good, with
and not DDDD up till now, the situation soon reversed.

I didn’t realise how long I’d been off; it seems that when Carer Joanne arrived, I was still having trouble with the blog. Flipping ‘eck, it must have been about four hours! I must have missed something else that caused this discrepancy timewise. Surely?

It took me ages to catch up, and by that time, was making his teatime call on me!
What a long time lost, and nothing much done.

To be continued… well, sorted out on Sunday Morning.

I got into a pickle when an SD card packed up. Finding photos I knew I’d taken took me hours. I’m even further behind now (Sunday). Here’s hopefully an accurate update with the photos retrieved.
It’s a late afternoon snap.

Ahem!

Teatime.

A little later.
Closer shot of the same.

Seizures kicked in while eating this.

Washed the pots, and fell asleep.
Waking every minute it felt like to me. With
on the job every time I woke up. But no long twitchings, they stopped almost as I stirred.
I may have been having nocturnal seizures. Hard to work it out, really. Just once, the metallic smell and taste erupted from my innards. As usual, followed by terrible dizziness. You feel like you are falling for a few moments every time.
Even when you’re flat out on the bed, even when it visits, I’m sat 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.

Did the last call. Can’t recall much of it.

I soon nodded off again, missing the football match on the TV that I’d hoped to watch.
A well-interupted night’s sleep. Seizures? , .
, one even had a couple of turns.
Unquestionably, it was my worst night this year.
I’ll try not to repeat this waffle on tomorrow’s blog.

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TTFNski – Keep Safe Each & All!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 6th March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Inchy: Grim, can’t you ring the bell before you visit?
Grim: Well, that wouldn’t look very authentic!
Inchy: Ah, I can see the logic…
Grim: Anyroad, it’s some good luck for you, Inchy, that I’ve come to transmit!
Inchy: Oh, goodie, I don’t usually good news rhetoric.
Grim: The H&H ‘Hearafter Selection Committee’ usually has a maximum percentage allowed, and it’s strict.
Inchy: Yes, tell me in plain language, not contorted or overscholastic…
Grim: Well, our auger & accountant tells us of a coming peace treaty, and we’ll need someone up there with us to keep the score in the following Oligarch-inspired war. Well, Heaven and Hell still use Windows 3.
Inchy: Yes, tell me tell me…
Grim: Don’t talk to me like that, all antagonistically!
Inchy: Sorry, but I’m excited. Accept my apology!
Grim: We don’t have anyone up there who can remember Windows 3; it changes almost daily.
Inchy: You mean Word and Excel? Have I heard what you said correctly?
Grim: It’s difficult for the computer to run with no electricity!
Inchy: What? H & H both exist powerlessly?
Grim: Well, heaven did a deal with Hell, and they get the politicians, Oligarchs and murderers to produce the power using pedal power, and all for free.
Inchy: Hehehe!
Grim: We use a power system called Cyclistically to make our own electricity.
Inchy: Do they have to cycle for eighteen-hour shifts? Is there no food or drink? Will they be beaten about the head if they go too slowly?
Grim: Aye, they cycle 24/7/7, abundantly!
Inchy: Heavens & Hell, that news pleases me!
Grim: Now we can fit you in surreptitiously,
If you promise to use Window 3 Inchy, secretly.
Inchy: I’ll work diligently if you just take me away.
From this hellhole of an earth & cruel life…
I’ve been denied a wife, get ailments & strife…
But would my health, mental & physical, revive?
Grim: We’ll never know. You won’t be alive…
Inchy: How will I cope with computer & hardrive?
Grim: If you pass St. Peter’s inquisition, you’ll thrive!
Inchy: I’ll thrive but not be alive! Is that coercive?
Grim: Don’t tell me you’re feeling apprehensive?
It’s an alternative, a sort of imitation life…
Inchy: It’s Earth life that I’m not coping with!
Grim: You’ll find things are different, cosmocratic,
Inchy: Will the souls be kind & communistic?
Grim: They certainly will not be consumeristic,
Inchy: Is that good? Bad? It seems to contradict,
Grim: You really want to stay on Earth’s cesspit?
Inchy: No, no, no! Look at me, I’m cadaveric.
I’ll come with you, even if this is all a trick!
Grim: I’ll tell summat else to make you ecstatic,
Inchy: Please do, Grim. Make me aware,
Grim: One of your jobs when you get up there…
Will be a sort of aged welcoming au pair,
Doing one-to-one interviews, as an assessor,
Deciding which sole will go where…
To Heaven, & peace everafter…
Or to hell, specifally to be a cycler,
You’ll sentence each one, whomsoever,
I’ll assure you can Starmer!
I’ll ensure Starmer gets you as an interviewer!
Inchy: Great, I’m ready when you are!
Grim: Sorry, I was pulling your leg.
Still, I’ve made you so much cheerier!
Inchy: You little monkey, you’re getting cheekier!
Grim: Anyway, if I took you now, you’d miss Keir’s funeral & not be able to be the cheerleader!
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3 To Find – In Nine Seconds.
I think that’s a little short.
It took me nine minutes to get them all!
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Smoked ham on non-butter buttered cheesy topped rolls. With sliced Natoora black tomatoes. Sea salted.
With cooked beetroot and battered mashed potatoes.
A pot of lemon & lime yoghourt last night.
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Two Natorra tomatoes left to have later.
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A decent 6 hours of sleep and a few wake-ups, but not due to . Not a lot of them anyway.

Removed from the day pouch, and from then on, I started so many tasks in a short space of time and made many errors. For example, after I started sorting the waste bags out. Got three bags into one and intended to do the other two. But no, not me. I found myself with my head in the oven cleaning the racks.  I say I found myself because obviously one of the seizures had got a hold of me; the last thing I remember doing before this was taking the first bag to the door. And was going to sort the front room bins. I looked in the room, and they had not been done.
It gets better! I returned to the kitchen to see what I’d done with the oven and found a tap had been left running and a nightshirt in the sink. Since the water was cold, I assumed I must have been rinsing after washing the Kagoul. I rinsed the shirt and wrung it out, ready to put it on a coathanger to drip dry in the wet room… I reckon it caused me a bout of vertigo as I removed the shirt from the sink to the bowl. No need to tell you, but I will: I dropped the bowl, water all over the floor and me, and the monitoring station came through to tell me the water leak alarm had activated. It took me a minute or two to regain my balance sufficiently to reach the monitor.

I never recovered from this bout all day long. A new fear gripped me, and it was amazing that I didn’t take a tumble again. I sat down for a minute or two and changed the clock-calendar on the computer desk.

I was soon back in the kitchen, sorting out the mess. Then I got a look at the oven that I’d come round to, to find I was working on cleaning it.  
What a mess! I’d put some foam spray cleaner on everything, but then I found the bottle label that read, “WARNING: For Bathroom & Toilet Cleaning Only!”
So, I spent ages getting it off and drying the oven.

A nagging douby that I was going to, or needed to do something, lasted for about ten-seconds. Then I made my way to the wet room to get the ablutions, medications and Porcelain Throne duties done.
The Porcelain Throne was not even sat on.
However, I managed a gentle shave and only caught the head patches from yesterday’s tumble a few times. The shaving was done so gingerly that I might not have bothered.
The neck growth felt the same to my touch as before I’d shaved! The went okay. And… I got the fresh PPs on without any falls, stumbles or droppages!

A Caregiver arrived, and I remembered that I needed to hang the Kagoule on the wetroom shower rails to dry. So, after the carer had medicated me, I got another kagoule washed and hung it up with the other in the wet room.
I wasn’t with it at all today. I thought about making a brew of Glengettie, but then I remembered I’d not taken the waste bags to the chute yet.   So, I did!
There were no traps on my fingers or my hand. And no walking into the doorframes. 2.

Carer Sam arrived. Took the laundry down for me, bless her.

A belated, unexpected series of Mini-Seizures visited me. After all the work I’d done today to try to catch up, for about four hours I was… was, well, erm… in and out-of-it. When in, I had to try to sort out what’d gone while I was out of it… but would go out of it before I could get an angle on what I’d been doing when I was out-of-it the time before; if anything.
I just read the above, and Blanety-Blank came to mind. 

I made a meal, Sweet and sour chicken Chinese style. I boiled and added some potatoes and a small jar of Hoisin and spring onion sauce. I bought it years ago; I can’t find a use-by date. Then, I also decided to have some potato waffles on the side. So, I did! I was so hungry.
When I was about to fetch Kodak Tim 2, the Carer arrived, and I forgot to photograph the meal. Tsk!

Cocked things up again.

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Friday 7th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I have no answer…
But does that send me aquiver?
The question is now in the ether,
Failure does not make me angrier…
Although a tad more angstier,
Is it time to meet with an auger?
A psychiatrist or a neuro-analyst,
To study my mental architecture?
Could they identify my brain’s gender?
I have no answer…
I’ve learned to live amidst loneliness & failure,
Cope with confusion, with many a faulter,
If summat goes right, there’s always a forfeiture,
My cerebrums communications get froideur,
As depression leaves, I go sort of fribbler,
In depression, I am a self-faultfinder,
Coming out of depression, I’m a flaneur,
High-Mood-Horis returns, & I’m a farceur!
Either of two extremes, never in the middle…
Insanely merry, or misanthropical,
Self-loathing then self-pitying, ever manifestable,
In any mode, they are potentially mephitical,
In a depression, I’m unmollifiable,
Happy-Mode-Horis, I often feel mercurial,
Occasionally, carefree, almost mirifical!
I accept that I must be malnormal,
I hope this is mentioned in my memorial,
I’ll begone soon, do not be mournful,
Funeral? I’d like both attendees to be mirthfull,
Oh, can you bury me wearing my monocle?
If I’ve no money left, shove me down a sewer hole,

Happy-Mode-Horis is back, so I’ll add some more.
Another thing I need is an ameliorator,
Maybe help (stuttering) from an annunciator,
I don’t need an abuser, accuser, or advertiser,
Perhaps someone who can make me wiser?
Daily, I need my Finasteride & Beta-blocker,
Betamethasone cream & Nystop powder,
Glyceryl Trinitrate & Atorvastatin,
Ramipril, Furosemide, & Warfarin,
Olive-oiled the ears and testicles with Germolene
Acne & Eczema with Barrier cream,
Peptac, & thrice daily my Codeine,,
Nose spray, Eye drops, sulphate of quinine,
Germoloid eased the pain and sting,
And several more when I’m ablutioning!
Sorry, this waffle may need comprehending,
Then the kettle on for tea brewing,
It’s Glengettie, not Darjeeling…
My usual mixture/dollop of dithering,
Friday’s nearly done, I’m mentally withering,
Doing this ode, struggling with typing,
Gladys’s Glaucoma made it hard for seeing,
With one o’clock in the morning nearing,
I’ve not yet made time for any eating…
So busy with the new carers meeting,
Seizures and Anne Gyna competing…
To be the top ailment ailing,
Hope it doesn’t read as highfalutin!
Part tongue-in-cheek, are you approving?
Why the neurosurgeon is operating!
To check my complex enzyme, thromboplastin,
Happy-High-Horis is still with me; Amazing!
Despite my being weary & tiring…
I’ll have a bag of crisps. I must eat something!
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MY FIRST CAR
Mine was Christened as Wilhomena.
(Mine was a ‘W’ Reg [1980]).
It took me a while to stop looking for my crash helmet, boots and gloves each time I went out. After years of motorbike running. I met a gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal and hoped to impress her with a close to proper car. But it wasn’t big enough for any hanky-panky, and my efforts were rejected. I kept Wilhomena for several years.
Then, the gorgeous, hairy, muscled, big gal (Grizelda) returned to Nottingham. That was it; I had to get a four-wheeled vehicle that would permit room for a bit of necking, groping and copulation. But I did not have any spare cash. So, I hunted around to see if any showroom would do a straight swap with me for any four-wheeled car for Wilhomena.

SKODA ESTELLE
Meet Gladys. The only car I could get. But, four-door, and the front seats went all the way back to accommodate room for a bit of nookie. It was well used over the next three years. As for anything mechanical, I wasn’t too interested.
Back to the showroom: The petrol tank contained only fumes, so I had to get to a filling station as soon as possible. Driving along the ring road, I realised… I did not have a licence to drive this car! I’d been driving Wilhomena on my motorbike licence.
I swiftly booked a driving test. Grizelda was not weakening or responding to my begging and pleading for a closer relationship. It was months before I got to take the test, but it seemed like years.
Finally, I took and passed the test and rang Grizelda. She told me to pick her up at 19:00hrs! Which I gladly did!
Our first entwining was in the Skoda, and then we went back to my flat for the best nine hours of unmitigated, unbroken, pleasing, rough pleasure ever! Ah, memories!
Just thought I’d mention it.
Grizelda moved in with me the next day. 3 weeks of joy, satisfaction, amorousness, concupiscence, passion, lust, horniness, ardour & lustfullness!
I’ve upset myself now, writing this. Bringing back memories of Grizelda and bliss. Humph!

Regrets again today.
Nowt much on at all.
Sorry.
I’ve just been too busy again.

Still, the new Carers take over next Wednesday.

Matron Jackie has not called but still might do.

The Seizures? Up to now (16:40hrs), I’ve had fewer than for ages. After this time, the Mini-seizures played catch-up and many sessions of their favourite game, ‘Let’s confuse Inchy again’.

What I can recall of the day. (Again, no notes) Oh, yes, there are four lines on the notepad. Hehe! Tsk!

I woke around 03:00hrs, thought about getting up, and drifted off again. When I reawakened, assuming I’d been asleep for a few minutes, it was 07:00hrs!

I had to rush to finish things to avoid missing Matron Jackie in case she called. (She didn’t!) I removed the nocturnal pouch from the catheter, sorted the bin bags, and handwashed a towel and nightie. And I went to get the ablutions (shower-shave-teeth- etc) and medications tackled. Teeth, then a shave (4 tint-weeny nicks), nasal spray, then cleaned the rear end and genitals. Then, into the shower, a sit down job, as Cartilage Chloe gave way as I entered the shower. I enjoyed it but didn’t want to miss Matron if she called, so it limited my time sitting in he shower; such bliss!
I felt like a rhino at a water hole.

The catheter bag was dried using paper towels. Then, the usual procedures were performed: the fungal lesion on Little Inchie and the ankle, acne and eczema, and eye drops. I olive oiled the ears, etc.

This is the end of the notepad details. I hope I can recall things in chronological order. Many more must have happened, but mini-seizures, being so busy, having more than one person talking, and subject-changing limit the details in my memory. Confusion installed. 


Tree Copse.

I can’t even remember taking these two.
Let alone when. PM, I assume.

Natoora tomatoes and Chinese-flavoured belly pork.
Cheesy cobs, into which I squashed the belly pork with hoisin sauce, and they tasted grand!
I certainly remember this meal. Unfortunately, I recall the sauce and bits of pork fat dribbling down onto the dressing gown and having to change it. Worse, washing up after the feast was messy: the oven was dirty, the oven tray was resuscitated, hehe!, and spillages were on the kitchen floor cleaning that near crippled me! 
Still, it was the best-tasting nosh of the week!

Early evening view.

I forgot to ask for contact details when the new carer bosses arrived. They will be starting next Wednesday.
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When in doubt, look intelligent!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 5th March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Today, I had a moment of pure glee!
And I was proud of my being TT,
Such a fantastic display of abstinency,
Also, my new found articulacy,
My fitness & mind control, no asininity!
I now count every eaten calorie,
Push-ups this morning? 223!
The women are definitely after me,
They asked me to go back to work, did I agree?
I made up my mind and told them, certainly!
I’ve never thought more clearheadedly,
I reread Exodus in its entirety,
I paid my overdue bill, for the electricity,
I cleaned up my groin; it was pretty bloody,
I sang and praised the Lord ecstatically,
I expect you think I’m getting delusionary?
One line of this ode is actual: I can tell thee…
But which one? A clue? Cleansed!
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Morning shot at approx. 05:30hrs
Morning shot at approx. 05:55hrs.

Ocado Oder arrived.
Daffies for the gals.
Food for me.
Drinkies for me.
More food for me…
Even more for me!

I don’t know much about what’s going on Today.

This morning’s shot.

The Carer took a shot of the head for me, tonight.
It’s looking better, healing already. And a lot less painful.

Tomorrow will be a busy day. I hope I’m up for it. New Carers will be visiting to assess whether they can take me on.

Matron Jackie might be calling.

The Amazon parcel should be arriving before 22:00 hours.

The catheter nurse is due, I think.

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CHEERS!
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Inchy Today: Monday 3rd March 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I find life to be undefined,
Plans and hopes are undetermined,
Often, my thoughts are unwarranted,
My intentions remain unendorsed,
No outcomes are usually unassured!
Daily seizures are unprecedented…
:::::
My brain? It cannot really be classified…
My bones & joints are crepitated,
In High Mood Horis, I’m almost contented,
Deep Depression Duncan often caprioled,
No one here, no chance of getting croodled,
Life is getting more circumscribed…
:::::
There’s a hollowness when I get depressed,
I get sorry for myself, feel disadvantaged,
It may prompt wild things to be deliberated,
My thoughts get convoluted, disassembled,
A nasty DDD session can only be described…
As coffee that’s been decaffeinated.
I hate it, sickening until it’s departed!
:::::
DDDD can’t be rectified or remedied,
It’s beyond being cured or rectified,
After it was analysed, I was repulsed,
Dementia inside cannot be resarciated,
I admit I felt forlorn, resigned…
The seizures & DDDD never retreated,
Another visit soon, to be reinvestigated,
I wonder if my brain can be reinstalled.
:::::
In High Mood Horis, I can feel stimulated,
Although that sounds a little sugar-coated,
To wild dreams & fantasies I succumbed,
DDDD returns, I get mentally spifflicated,
The longer the session, the more scunnered,
Mentally drained, and feel shanghaied,
Writing this ode, I’ve been shemozzled…
The DDDD has suddenly sequestered,
Blessedly to uncaringness I succumbed!
:::::
If Happy Horis stayed all day accommodated!
And DDDD could be disconnected, abdicated,
Then hopes & plans could be activated,
Then I could be far less aggravated!
And no doubt feel much less alienated,
But of course, DDDD can’t be amputated,
The damned DDD can’t even be ameliorated,
But I can get so frustrated and acerbated…
Realising that my needs can’t be assuaged,
Dreaming the Seizures may be assuaged
And Anne Gyna’s pains be abrogated!
:::::
Daily, I’m self-loathed and vilipended,
Verbally, I’m self-verberated,
Also, I get self-vulnerated,
Once, when I left the hot tap running, I vomited,
And again, was self-vociferated,
I believed I should be vapulated,
Had my sanity been vitiated?
I kid myself I am capably viveured,
I’ve still often get self-verbally-violated,
The line below: Can I be acquitted and vindicated?
I’d gladly see Starmer vivisepultured!
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DDDDD WAS ON FOR MOST OF THE DAY.
Little got acheived.
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I found a few missing photos from yesterday’s internal memory of the Kodak Tim 2. Here they are.

Late evening shots from the kitchenette.
To the left
Centre
And the right
An earlier shot, with the moon crescent
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There’s not a lot on here. I’ve got to admit that really got to me today. I’m so sorry, but I was pathetically mopping about in between the lousy seizures and just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm until late afternoon when visited me. He didn’t stay long, and it was soon back to sitting, staring at what might as well have been a blank screen. But with an overfull catheter bag, too! The Carer told me when they arrived. An hour later, and returned and is still with me as I type away now on this computer. I spent hours on today’s ode. The reason? I’ll tell yers, Haha!  Who usually comes on bad around 16:00hrs or so, blurred things at 14:00hrs.
Then, amazingly, at 15:00 or so, the vision came back quite suddenly. So I’m getting on with it, but naturally, I expect the return on or at any time now. Omlt just typed this, and electric shocks shot up my right leg, followed by his ‘ailment-in-arms’ partner .
No shaving cuts today, yet. I didn’t have one! Dirty boy!
As I was about to go in the wet room. Miserably, I gave up the fight and, feeling sorry for myself, sat down and fell asleep! I was woken up by who was in cahouts with DDD and Seizure Sandra. The daft things, I guess!
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Only photos to trigger the memory from here on.

I’m not sure this is today’s shot of the waste bags. I may have got it mixed up and deleted the wrong one.

I was merrily grafting away here. And I got that fearful, sudden-sinking feeling; I thought I had left the hot tap running again. I moved limpingly to the kitchen, and the catheter contraption fell down to almost my ankle! Arrgh!
The tug on Little Inchy was as near to excruciating as I wanted it to be. At least the tap was not running – but I’d left the fridge door open!
Now, the problems multiplied.
I had a mini-seizure as I was checking the catheter and tried to pull it up quickly to relieve the pain. Lost my balance and reached out to grab the corner of the counter, and unfortunately, I missed it due to the intense sunshine blasting through the window! I now have even more scars on the tight leg ulcer, and it bled a tiny bit as I caught it on the trolley.
On the bright side, there usually is one if I look hard enough -at least I stayed, as wobbly as they were, on my feet.
Now I had water running out of the fridge, blood trickling down my leg, a mess to sort out, and the telephone started ringing!
I abandoned the mess I created and got to the landline in time. Sister Jane talked about tonight’s Forest vs. Ipswich F.A. Cup game. She and Pete are going to it.  (I watched it later; it’s still on the box, in extra time).

Then I went back to the kitchenette, and it wasn’t until then that I realised I’d just soaked myself in the cold water I’d poured into the bowl and dropped it! Wet dressing gown, legs, and feet. Which, of course, made the messed-up area even larger to clean up now! DDDD went deep this time. I can’t recall everything I had to sort out. It must have taken me well over an hour and a half. Washing and drying inside the fridge and throwing away some soaked foods. I changed my shirt and protection pants. Putting my wet slippers, shirt & dressing gown into the laundry bag. Then, I got fresh slippers, a shirt and a dressing gown. I still had some cleaning up I’d missed, and the landline rang again.
All I could hear was background noise. For anyone who knows me, to ring this late worried me. I thought it might be my sweetheart, Frank’s Jenny, or sister Jane. Jenny might have been in a pickle with something, like Jane. I’d got Jane’s number on auto dial on the landline, so I rang her first; as I did, I realised she would be at the football match. No surprise she didn’t answer. Then I rang Jenny. I know it was late, but she might have needed support or help, so I rang. She told me she was okay, and that was wonderful to hear. She spoke of the window cleaner situation at the flats and asked about the medical problem, and I told her I was waiting for Matron Jackie to visit me to explain about the seizures. Bless her for her caring nature ♥. Then Jane rang back. I was in total disarray. So many things were happening simultaneously, and I had little, if any, control over any of them.

Anne Gyna and both turned their attentions on me at the same time.
I had to give up sorting anything out. Concentration and confusion took over. I’ll try to finish this before I give up and get my head down. I’m so tired and weary now. Even joined in the mayhem.
I’m not interested in eating at all. In the morning, I must ask the caregiver to redo/repair/replace the catheter for me. 

I’ll get the out-of-sync photos on.

Aha, letters delivered.
Carer allowance cut?
It’s still unopened.
The same dosages.
I remembered and made time to update the c1970s clock-calender at 17:10hrs it seemed. Hehe!
Results of the Accifauxpas over the last two days!

I’ve eaten nothing all day and am so tired. I think I’ll have some biscuits and get my head down.
Another busy day is coming up tomorrow.
Just what I need after today’s farcicalness!
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A Thought: Please make tomorrow less stressful. PLEASE!
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I’ve got back with me again, now. Grumph!

TTFN.

Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

/ Inchie / 19 Comments

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THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES!
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The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution!
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I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance!
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What a fantastic dream I had last night!
I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it…  David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake.   
Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.

As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg.  
I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down. 
I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier. 
The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth.
I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy.
The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.

I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer.
I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times.
I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.

The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed.
It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes…
 Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!

Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet.
My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards.
Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.

There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.

Time to get a meal.
This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .

I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

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DDDD DAWNED
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Inchys Ode: Saturday 1st March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Ode Old– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Duncan paid fewer visits today,
But perhaps I shouldn’t say…
It’s not as if he went away,
What will happen on Saturday?
Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory,
If it comes, it’s always only briefly,
Though it always returns, worryingly,
But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly,
I got that from my thesaurus dictionary,
My life bears moments of uncertainty…
Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety,
No claims to rightness or piety,
Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy,
I often act subconsciously, mistakenly,
Or over-humbly, sycophantishly,
At times, I’m away with the sidhe,
If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns,
With my own brain, I can lock horns,
Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon,
Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection,
Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration?
He can bring on a cruel self-beration,
Sometimes, a sort of zombification,
A low, deeper than being woebegone,
While accepting my own antiquation…
With its struggle amany and vulneration,
Dementia Doreen is another vaurien,
Incogniscent Iris, seisures often…
DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see,
Alternates with DDDD visit frequently,
One extreme or the other, persistently,
Never equidistantly or contentedly,
I can struggle to find reality, facticity,
Thoughts, movements show contumacy…
My neurotransmitters are dying on me, 
Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly?
A chance of it being right? They go astray!
High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly,
DDDDD? Then things can get tricky…
Throw in the odd interrupting seizure…
What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater,
I often turn into self-loathing babbler,
When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter,
Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger,
Or has the temerity to get smaller,
Or new farces & snags I discover,
While I’m under Horis’s protective cover!
Ménière’s, seizures… but I always recover,
In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter,
The nurse arrived to change my catheter,
Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay,
I wouldn’t go back in straightaway,
We had a bit of a shilly-shally…
We got it in, although it was bloody,
Then she checked the state of my rear alley,
She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation,
returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
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HOWZAT!
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A bad day.
Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.

Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs.
The pouch was taken off and emptied.
Waste bags sorted and ready.
Made up some pots to use for the laundry.

Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.

Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.

Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!

I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.

The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX

I took this snap as she departed.

Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.

By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky!
To the right.
To the left.
Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.

Carer Chris returned. Medications given.

I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Good Run Continuing! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
:::::
Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
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Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
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Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
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People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
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Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
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Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
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FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
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I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some  shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.  
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

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May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!