Inchy’s WP Prompt 2020 Reply: 30 Things that make me happy!

1) Waking up alive!
Although this is often ignored when waking up with some of my ailments giving me some stick. Finding the catheter has been leaking again! , or I was in the middle of a, and on my way to the floor, as I slip from the clutches of 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.
2) The rare times when I can get to sleep – without it being purgatory from the
Excellent when these leave me alone!

3) Waking up without a rattlingly vicious attack by
More often than not, resulting in another toppling out of the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner.

4) Not leaving the taps (faucets) running.
Floods, hot water running cold, hours spent cleaning up the mess. The Water-Alarm goes off, informing the Nottingham City Homes Monitoring Control, who ring me on the alarm panel box in the front room, but I cannot hear what they are saying, as I am in the wet room or kitchen at the time cleaning up. Then I go into the front room to inform them of my Accifauxpa and that I’m dealing with it.

5) When Shaving Goes Well!
I think the average cuts acquired when shaving would average around 4. I’m as bald as a badger on my head, yet hair grows behind my ear holes and neck?

6) Any Day When I Don’t Take a Tumble.
I have acquired a habit lately of bashing my head on the way down. Usually on the sharp corner of a counter or ledge. With the odd few that have left me unconscious. The last one, when the leg lost all neurotransmitters sensation, I twisted and landed on my back – not sure if I blanked out for a few seconds… As I regained a modicum of reality, the Nottingham Home Alarm Monitor Control lady talked to me over the alarm box. Her voice sounded slightly panicky, and communication was even worse this time. As I could not get back up, so I had a chance to hear what she was saying clearly. The leg had blown up to tree-trunk size, the pain too much at that time for me to try to get up, and the lady told me she was ringing for an ambulance for me. Over four hours later, the lady checked on me again. Then I made a massive pain-bearing effort as the leg was going down a little; I crawled slowly to the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner, and used it get myself up on my feet! The lady cancelled the ambulance. I got carried away there a bit… Sorry!

7) Any Day When Does Not Go Down
But, this, of course, is an impossibility!
The last day when this miracle of the none-failure was many months ago. Since then the
have had a 100% daily failure rating.
Today, they cocked it up five times in 2 hours!

8) Any Day When I do not have a.

9) When I prepare a meal without an Accifauxpa

The tin opener is the biggest offender.
Closely followed by the steak knife and scissors.
cut finger

10) When I Don’t Fall getting on or off a Bus.
Off course, this will include tripping up or down steps and misjudging the distance from hard objects, like door frames, walls, cabinets, lift doors, and in-store

11) When I Don’t take a Fall in the Shower
GC showerNaturally, these events usually are down to one of these…
falling down.

12) When The Health Checks Turn-Out Normal!
But, a rare event!

13) When The Urine Checks are Good!

14) When The Ear Holes Don’t Bleed
Like the photo above, sometimes caused by a shaving behind the lughole’s error. Occasionally at their own behest, for which I have had tests… blood all over my vest…

15) When I Win at Something
Which, of course, is one for the coming future,
I may win one day for blaspheming?
I’m reasonably good at banqueting,
Not cooking or preparing…
Just at eating!
There ought to be a competition for befuddling!
I’d be higher in that than middling!
Not for me, voluntary peeing!
I’m excellent at self-confusing,
But I need the catheter for piddling,
I’d win easily at self-battering!
Experienced in chitchatting, complicating, & contradicting,
Is that a victory, my stopping smoking?
Or even my going tea-totalling?
I’m pretty good at jesting…
Also, at failing, falling, fumbling and flailing?
My failures I should be defenestrating…
But I’ll still be worrying whilst waiting!

16) When I Pass Wind Without Escapages!
They usually come out smelling atrocious…
Often the farts emitted can be exhaustless,
The accompanying wind was almost blizzardous!
The results for the protection pants are calumnious!
I have to spray the room with citreous,
The bleeding can look rather dangerous,
That’ll be from the piles and things furunculous,
Mostly the results are not injurious.
The noise it makes can be quite harmonious!

17) When I Go To See The Nurse...

18) When I’m Cooking…
Tomatoes, chips, peas & battered chicken,
I’m happily cooking in the kitchen,
If it comes out wrong, I’m heartbroken!
My spirits are so easy to dampen…
The kitchenette is my playpen…
I get it wrong again and again!
But when it’s good, I’m in heaven.
I eat so much, I am bedridden,
And depression is unforbidden!

19) Casting My Mind Back!
To my days with Grizelda ♥

20) Casting My Mind Back!
Further back to memories of Mother…

21) Casting My Mind Back!

Last week with Deanna.

22) Casting My Mind Back!
A nice gal  I met in the USA. I forget her name…

23) Casting My Mind Back!
Waiting for a job interview as Team Motivator to start.

24) Casting My Mind Back!.
Memories of my first car.

25) Casting My Mind Back!
My walk in the Royal Maze, Liverpool,
Took me five hours to get out; I did feel like a fool!

26) Casting My Mind Back!
GC tooth gumI was happy after I got the message through to me…
Note for Self: “Do Not Lick The Knife”!

27) Casting My Mind Back!
Happy memories of bath time – 1959, revisited in 1969!

28) Casting My Mind Back!
I just returned from the hospital after the six-week Nottingham Residential Home stay. And proudly made my first meal for me in well over three months… weeks. Burnt my hand on the oven shelf. Happily, I learned my
lesson. It was about three weeks before I did this again,


29) Casting My Mind Back!
Sister Jane escorted me back home after the cancer operation at the QMC Ward 19 operation, and I was released. I got given my notice the following week.

No, really, I was happy about it!

30) Casting My Mind Back!
Sister Jane & Hubby Pete had several kitties.
My personal Favourite is seen here, perusing my pension details.
My other favourite was Mr Phooy.
Both are long gone now. Sob!
But I loved them, and it brings happiness still
to see these photos of them ♥

21, 22, & 23:

In hopes of bringingeth a smile!

Have You Ever Had Surgery – Yep, a few times


Not Necessarily In Oder.
But I did my bestest


GC Young BrookAt about 6 years of age, I had my right thumb crushed. They did a good job on it. Even now, I’m 78, and I can still see the scars where they unmangled it and stitched it back on!
Oddly, the thumbnail has grown a good three times the thickness of the other one on the left hand.

The surgery went well enough. Worth mentioning, though, was the at the Barium-Meal before the operation. They did not issue me with any crystals… I got home and spent five hours stuck on the toilet, with a concrete-like coloured torpedo Half-in-half-out… before eventually the ‘clunk’ and splash, as it evacuated, along with a pint or so of blood. I rang 999, back I poddled to the QMC A&E and had to have 24 stitches in my posterior. I remember that well enough! Haha! Thus, poor bled, and still do bleed daily; for the next up to know, for forty years! Hey-Ho!

Nottingham City Hospital, Morris Ward. After a lot of visiting and kerfuffles, changes of dates, and so many tests… the day came for me. I had the angiogram, and they said tomorrow we go in your chest and fit you up with a new mechanical ticker. Great!
Afterwards,  I was taken into the ICU. Attached to various tubes, drips and drains, it took a couple of confusing, muddled days until the drugs wore off. Then back to the Morris Ward, for they said, three or four (it turned out to be two) days so as to keep an eye on how things were. The next day, they explained that they needed the bed, and they had phoned Brother-in-Law Pete; he is going to pick me up at 04:00hrs the next day to take me home. I bet is going to be in a good mood when he arrives! Haha! I later discovered that the breast bone had not congealed properly, and the Reflux Valve may sometimes stick open or closed. If it bothers you or causes problems, let your Doctor know about it, who can then refer you back to the Nottingham City Cardiac team. Thank you, I said.

Not an operation as such, just a long test & I was given the result of the aforementioned examination. Little knowing it would take five visits to the Mary Potter Clinic to get to the root of the problem. So, off to the first test, A nerve biopsy; the removal of a small piece of nerve for examination. Through a small incision, a sample of a nerve is removed and examined.
A few weeks later, off for the Nerve-ultrasounding test. Which allows physicians to directly view nerve damage. Different diseases affect nerves in characteristic ways, some of which can be seen with ultrasound. This was getting my attention!
As I recall, I had monitor pads on all my peripheral areas, one on each toe, and three under each foot. The hands and fingers could hardly be seen; there were so many all over them.
The two ladies, nice and plump attractive medics, were just my cup of tea… Sorry, I went a bit off track there.
Half an hour later, I was summoned back into the test room, to get the results of all the examinations. This was the initial explanation I received: “Your nerve ends, called; nobody can do anything to relieve the situation; we cannot yet repair nerve ends. So you must prepare yourself as best you can for when the time comes that you lose all control of your extremities movements, Mr Chambers. They handed me a leaflet about coping and the dangers that can make things worse. “Degenerative nerve deaths affect many of your body’s activities, such as balance, movement, talking, breathing, and heart function. (Dead right!) Many of these diseases are genetic. Sometimes the cause is a medical condition such as alcoholism, a tumour, or a stroke. Other causes may include toxins, chemicals, and viruses. Any questions?
For a second or two, I was speechless. But still appreciated their straight, no namby-pamby nonsense, explanation. I think I thanked them for giving it to me straight.

No direct operation or surgery as such, but a side effect brought about some surgery to remove poison from my quickly acquired ankle ulcers. Now, are yer wondering? I’ll explain…
The hospital gave me Clopidogrel on arrival at the ward. Not knowing until much later, that I had an allergy to it, that somehow had poisoned my blood? As soon as I started to come around a little, days later, they sent me to a theatre to have the blood cleansed. All tubes, lit panels, noisy machines and many surgeons, possibly some students, were amongst them, and the IV sent me almost immediately into oblivion.
Back to the ward, where I was told (this always happens to me), we need the bed urgently, so we are sending you to a Nottingham City Council home for four weeks. You’ll be picked up in about ten minutes. Then it got farcical…
Two ambulance gals came in, started throwing my bits into a bag, and before I knew it, I was pulling up at The Oaks Residential Care Home. What an experience that was. I thought at least I know I’ll end up somewhere like this in a few years, so I’ll see how things go – which was not well for the six weeks I stayed. I hardly had any clothes with me, but as a Carer told me, “You are not allowed out anyway!” By Sister arranged to bring me some clothes from the flat, bless her. When I gave a Carer my first bag of laundry, all it had was a towel, two t-shirts and a pair of trews. It came back without the trews and towel… but ~I did get a bonus of a lady’s bra and knickers! Every time something disappeared, never to be seen again! Mind you, since I could no longer do the laundry at the flat, it’s been happening for the past year or so, here). One male tenant ran at a female with a knife, I was asked to make a statement for the police – but in the end, it was masked over and not needed. For three different days, I did not get fed a meal. In one day, I got two!
I lost count of the times I asked someone to get a newspaper for me from the shop just outside the car park of the place. I never got one. On a few days, the same man and women would be sat near each other in the dining area, and swear, cursing and threatening each other violently. By the time the catering staff were shooing us all away so they could clear up and get home before Coronation Street (or whatever) started; these two argumentative snapping at each other couples were sat in the communal lounge laughing and joking?
I then (and now) fear my coming transference to a home.

After my lifelong dream of owning a shop, had left me broke, in debt, and out of work, with the Customs & Excise chasing me for an imaginary debt; I managed to get a job as an industrial cleaner, at Carters Pop factory in Kegworth. I had a hell of a drive to and from work and a heavy, arduous list of duties. Emptying the bins of bottles and other rubbish on the three production lines. If any of the tunnels, labellers or conveyors needed cleaning, I got the job, because I was the only one who could climb into them, I was them a thin little thing.
The place, although newish, was not connected to the sewers, so we had a constant flow of slurry tankers that had to be connected to the storage silos, to remove the mammoth amount of pop we were throwing away every day. Guess who fell for that job every single time one of the five-a-day tankers rolled in?
We had a massive baler, for the recycling; each bale weighed, on average, one and a half tons!

Another joy of the job. As was the compactor, and emptying the twenty-two industrial bins into it, climbing in to free strapped items… But the money was good!
Anyway, I was lifting one of the domestic size bins to tip into the compactor, when I got the hernia! This would be five years after starting there, my first time off. I went off to the Queens Medical Centre, which kept me in and did the operation the next morning. After the operation, I woke up in Mens Surgical, Ward 19, on floor C. The surgeon came to see me with his entourage of students and had a message and a half to tell me! Truly stunning! The most gob-stopping news was he said they went in with a camera and laser to tackle the tear… through poor Little Inchie, the smallest willie in the UK! How he got things through still amazes me. Then, once in and looking around, he saw the cancer growth, as he said: “It could not have been a more opportune timing; we had all the tools inside you, that could deal with the growth straight away, Mr Chambers!” I think that was my last bit of luck in life! I thanked him in earnest!
He then told me of a Royal visitor who was coming in today.

Later in the day, a young student nurse, on her own, came to take the drainage tube out of Little Inchie. She was nervous, and her hands were trembling. I tried to put her at ease, a pleasant smile in encouragement… then…
All hell let loose in the ward!
After a gut-wrenching scream was let out by a woman, she shouted out. “Look, it’s Lady Di!” Everyone able to do so, rushed to the window to have a look. I found out later that they were letting her in through a fire door with armed guards around, and straight up the ward above mine. Charles had brought his own chefs with him as well, and had several nurses and a Sister with him all the time; the ward was cleared of all other patients, of course, while he had his shoulder looked at after an accident fox hunting… Hehehe!
The young nurse obviously wanted to rush to the window with all the others, and Indicated with the movement of my head, ‘Go on then…’ I regret doing that!

Cause as she shot off, she caught the drainage tube, which shot out of Little Inchie and sprayed blood up high and all over the bed, and me as it fell back down on!
The Sister was livid with me! She thought that I’d been toying with the tube, and she gave me a phlegm-spitting mouthful!
I said nowt, so the nervous trainee nurse didn’t cop for it. The two nurses that came in a rush to sort out the bedclothes and replace them, almost knocked me out of the bed twice, elbowed me in the face, and knocked my glasses off of the cabinet, doing it. It seems my name was mud from then on!
I dare not tell them the pain I was in!

(Nothing serious, but it sounds good, dunnit? Hehe!)
After my being made redundant along with so many others from Carters before the new owners arrived, finding work was so difficult. I did agency work for a year or so, but they would pay us short, and it’d be a devil of a job getting what they owed you.
I took a job as a Static Security Guard.
The first event
happened at a precision metalwork plant in Draycott. I was doing an external spot patrol, around 01:30hrs. No workers anywhere that night. So I was a smidgeon put out when I thought I saw a body on the floor on Avenue Three, near the laboratory Zinc door. No lighting on that avenue, but I’d got my maglight torch out, and I bravely approached whatever it was… Dang, dang, dang… Dang!
It soon became obvious from the outline that it was a man, possibly trying to hide in the corner. A gulp from within, and I radioed in to inform control and then the police of the situation, keeping the man in sight. I kept in the shadows and moved closer. The man would not have seen me if the police had not approached with their sirens going! This after I suggested a silent approach to their operator when I called them! Humph!
It was then that I felt the bullet hit my knee, which proved he was a bad shot, cause as I always did in the dark, I held the torch as far away from my body as I could. If anyone is armed, they would aim at the torchlight. Then I had to rush to the gate to admit the officers and tell them the scenario. When we got back to Avenue Three, the man seemed like he was in the same area, more or less, that he’d fired from?  
I got to him before the officers, and became obvious by the smell and carrier bag on the floor, that he had been glue sniffing! He was arrested as the ambulance arrived. I knew it wasn’t a high calibre weapon, cause phutted more than banged. The .22 bullet had not even gone all the way into my knee, and I pulled it out myself. Anyway, the old chap was not charged in the end. I was okay with that, cause he had to go on the course to help him kick the habit. Hope it worked for him.

‘C’s’ Haulage on Rose Street the next time a year or so later.
A two-guard assignment on nights, cause they had suffered so many break-ins. Barry and me. Baz as he was known to us. Well, ‘Boozed-Up Baz’, but not in his earshot. A big lad. Har-har!
We’d both had our RTs. As I started the patrol, leaving  Baz in the gatehouse, he radioed, “Golf Charlie, receiving?”
“Golf Charlie, clear, Bravo Echo, send”. He informed me that the hangar two alarm was activating, and he’d called the police, our control and the client. “He’d locked the gates; call me if anything is found untoward!” I got the door code from my notebook and approached with severe caution. The alarm was silent and rang only at the client’s home and site gatehouse.
It was obvious that someone had been inside, from another entry point. I called Baz. “India Oscar Sierra”. A group of youngsters; five or six of them, broke cover and made a dash to the window they’d got in through. As the last one was climbing out, I heard a noise behind me and felt something on my right arm, another intruder I’d not seen, I thought he’s thrown one of the bolts laying about at me, and the chase around the lorries and shelving commenced. He was too quick for me.
Meanwhile, the police and client had arrived (thankfully), and the search commenced in an orderly fashion, Baz still at the gate to bar any exit. None of the youths was seen again, but we did see where they had stacked some large oil or petrol cans up to climb over the fencing. I think the police caught one of them later when the police dog handler arrived.
I was feeling a little smug at how we’d handled that, and I made a brew of tea for Baz and me. Then some blood he did see… it was coming from me! That was when we realised the bolt thrown at me was a gunshot. It had gone right through the uniform, my arm and out again! No pain until I saw it! The excitement of the pursuit, I suppose.
I’ve still got the scar, and have told varying stories of my bravery and heroism over the years. Hehe!
 In fact, I only needed four stitches, and was let go home, back at work the next shift.
Sorry folks, there was no heroism at all!

I waited two years after the optician told me that I had cataracts and Saccades in my right eye, and cataracts (less severe), and in the left one.
Then got a series of tests done over the next year to see if I can go on the waiting list. The last one was a Refraction Test, and I’d got on the list at last! A further year on, and they notified me on a Friday, that the cataract operation was to be done on the following Thursday, but
I had to take a Carer with me. That hurt the wallet more than the operation did me!
I had to sign a declaration that knew there was a 30% less chance of success but wish to continue. Which I did, naturally.
It failed. Hard to believe, I know!
Going in for two appointments next week. Not aware of which eye, yet. But they did tell the Doctor and sent me a copy. The eye underneath the new lens has a crack in it. So they have to laser it off again, put one stitch in the eye, let it heal, and then remove it, and then put another lens on. Could take a while, methinks.
Unless they are going to sort out the Glaucoma or Cataracts in the left eye? Confusing, innit?

No doubt I’ve missed one or so off.
The memory isn’t so good, you know…
The older the event the better the chance of recalling it.

Does my metal ticker run on Nicad?
Why am I a proletariat, not a chad?
Why are my ailments myriad?
Why my body stops me from going skyclad?
Why have I got a swollen gonad?
Yet failure I’m good at, begad!
I could
script a jeremiad…
If I could afford a pen and pad!


INCHIE: Friday 31 March 2023

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I don’t want to go into this too much… but…
The text from the bank indicated a worrying fact.
My balance has gone down by £3000 in a month!
I asked Carer Jodie if she could ask Carer Kara to
please have a go at getting me back in online
banking again. She tried a while ago, a couple of weeks
back, using the phone, and got the details needed and
tried to get me online with it. But, no joy. The details
given to her did not allow her/me into my account.
I really appreciate her trying in her own time too.
I’m worried, to say the least, now. Of course, I may
have got something wrong. I explained this to Jodie

and to Carer Sam later. I’m a bag of nerves!
Sam (1n:40hrs) said she would ask Kara to assist me.
Not heard anything yet (20:20hrs).
Hoping she can get hear tonight; she might be on the late
call. Every day there is something not going right! Well,
going wrong, summat to fret about.
The new medications and part of the original monthly
one have not arrived. No night catheter bags.
All a part of the NHS collapse and strikes?
My already shattered confidence and concentration are
not doing me any good. And without the needed
medications at the same time.
The thought of having to have a permanently fitted
catheter strangely left my mind today. Until a few
minutes ago, when I got some stabbing pains and
realised the bag was full & needed emptying. But
the colour of the wee-wee has been so much better
today. Although not the flow.
Which problems to worry about?
I’m sinking mentally as well.

Thanks, Doreen!
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First bag emptying. Not as dark as it looks. These day bags are in three compartments, with a shaded outer plastic.
Off to the . Only two (messy) trips up to now
Sorted the waste bins and bags. Carer Shaquille’s first call.
The second call was from Jodie, who calmed me down a bit over the banking cock-up. But not solved anything. No Kara came, though. Second visit.
Om the computer to get all mixed up and mistake making. (It was no bother!)

The weather was not nice….

Carer Sam arrived and said she would ask Kara if she could call on me.

This shot was a better one, got the colour as it was!

Getting dark earlier now.

A bit if a shock on the next bag emptying.
Blimey, talk about bloody!
And yet, the next emptying…
Much better? Not complaining like!

Oh, where did the time go?

Pressed on with the blogging.
Getting late now, 21:10hrs.
Better get some nosh sorted out…
Off to the kitchenette, I go… Hey-Ho!

Made the nosh, took a photo, and it didn’t appear on the SD card? Again!

GC ERWashed the pots, during which I felt liquid on my left lower leg?
Can’t be the , that’s on the right leg. I felt a grope of the area and found some new fungal growths, about four of them, different sizes, and all leaking what appeared to be water?

I put a self-adhesive pad on them, check the
Catheter Bag & colour of the urine…
That was too red again. Tsk!
And got my head down.

The pad was soaked in minutes and fell off. Fancy that!

Yet another crap night of sleeping. I had to keep wiping the liquid away all through the night with kitchen towels. One of the lesions is still running now (at 09:40hrs Saturday). The eyes and nose are doing a good imitation of the lesions. This reminded me of a Dr Who episode. Hehe!

Thus another horrible, tormenting night of getting up to empty the tiny day bag and wiping the weeping lesions.

I feel so lucky and blessed, you know…
There are plenty worse off; wherever you go,
But I’ve lost confidence and my mojo…
Doreen makes my thoughts and mind an imbroglio,
Whoopsies, accifauxpas, ailments to me are ipso-facto,
Coping with pain? I’m an aficionado,
Depression? Yes! But still a simpatico!
This mind is full of confusion & mumbo-jumbo!

Morning all!

INCHIE: Saturday 1st April 2023

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Not a Dr Who or Hammer House of Horrors tale!
It could only happen within the Confines and Mysteries of 72 Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesquenesses that haunt the hallways and lobbies searching for Inchie; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me! This was one of their best efforts yet!

Last night’s scary quick growth of the leg lesions, and the sudden leaking of water from them, got even worse during the day. They eased off in the evening… for an hour or so, then…

New growth coming between the toes, and fate gave the papules a suitable pareidolia face to laugh at me! Hehehe!
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Up at 06:30, wiped the water from my leg and foot. I’m getting good at this after doing it all night long instead of sleeping. Humph!

Some blood in the , that’s because we still do not have any s delivered!

First of three visits to the , all messy again!.
Oddly, and reminiscent of the Dr Who episode, The Waters of Mars…

Not only the leg lesions but the eyes and nose were running???

Carer Sam arrived. The missing medications and catheter bags had not arrived yet. She brought the laundry for me and kindly hung up the dressing gowns for me. Then a little chin-wag. Thank you!
Took two snaps of the depressing weather.

Carer Jo-Anne came. Had a laugh as she medicated me.

Prepped the nosh for this evening. Cooked some imitation lamb and a can of vegetable soup, well seasoned to marinate all day. Put them all together, and Carer Ayowole arrived.

Had a good cleanup of the lesions on the leg.
They seem to be getting smaller now but still spurting water.
I can still see the face on the leg.

Sister Jane rang, still in bed, bless her.
She and hubby Pete are going to the football match this afternoon, then off to enjoy the Halle Concert at night. Nice!
We had a good natter. Told her about the leg leaking. Hehehe!

The wee-wee had changed to a decent colour.

Concentration is gone, getting tired, and the eyes are getting dimmer, as is usual at this time of night.

Carer Chloe arrived; nice to see her; it’s not often she calls on me. Had a giggle, and she checked the dates on the fridge foods. (Three binned)

The lesions are getting even smaller now.
Still pouring water out, though, but not all of them?

I turned on the oven to heat up ready fir the potatoes to go in.

A middling colour, not too bad.

Got the pots n the oven and turned the saucepan heat on the lowest setting to warm up ready for the spuds to go in, in half an hour or so.

Turned off this computer; as I did so, I could feel the water trickling a little quicker down the leg – another night of no sleep in the offing? Humph!.

Back in the morning… if I’ve not drowned in the night. Hehehe!

The nosh came out well…

I dined like a King… Well, maybe not!
I can’t imagine King Charles with a tray on his belly, scoffing vegetable soup with extra potatoes for supper? Nor eating it with his leg with the mystery papules leaking water, stuck up on a chair that needed him to keep wiping it, as he kept spilling the gravy on his dressing gown, chest and chin. Hehehe!

At least the short-lived water-releasing papules; two days up to now, are leaking far less. But worryingly, it looked in the morning like some new ones were coming… and a few on the right leg now, too!

Yours, from the old moaner, killed by the NHS, Doreen Dementia, his mechanical aorta valve, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Dracula Depressions and/or lack of catheter night bags to stop his bladder infection.
I mention these in the vain hope that someone will show an interest in what actually saw-me-off, in the end.  when I’m gone. A bit late, I know, but wouldn’t it be lovely to come back to see other’s reactions?

Here are a few I could guess at:
Unnamed: “Huh, I don’t know how the old scrote lasted so long!”
Unnamed: “I told him to go to the doctor!”

Bank Manager: “Inchie? Who was that then?”
My ophthalmologist: ” Ah, one less in the queue for a cataract job!”
Dementia Neurologist: “I never actually saw him, but the nurses say he say he was in need of help. Didn’t get it did he? Shame!
Local Pharmacist: “He’s dead? Hahaha!
Doctor (GP): “Deceased? Ah, that’s a blessing for him; but more for me!”
Audio Clinic Receptionist: Oh, pity. He was almost deal yer know!”
Otolaryngologist: “Do you know, I never had a patient with more solid packed-in earwax in my life. I liked him. When getting the wax out, I’d call my colleagues to show them… they never believed that so much could have come from just two ear canals!”
District Matron: “Yes, I’m sorry we couldn’t have supplied him with his much-needed medications and Catheter night bags. As he said himself; ‘At least when I snuff it, someone else will stand a chance of getting some night bags in hopes of relieving their bladder infections.”
 Automatic, Inc. (WordPress): Didn’t he used to write that crappy blog?
St Peter: “Christ, I’ve got to put up with him now…”

Morning, all!

INCHIE: Wednesday 29th March 2023

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Annuver mind-blowing, busy, getting nothing done, and frustrating… but not so much so as yesterday was! I think.
But don’t let fool you. It was horrendous!
When I say horrendous, it wasn’t all horrible; there were about ten minutes of near-contentment around 13:00hrs.
The promise of the medications about to arrive was soon demolished.
About a third of them came. But no Catheter night bags, and the new tablets for the Prostate reduction, failed to make it.
So, the night is going to be another one of agony.
Another promise of the rest of the things to arrive tomorrow; I’m not too hopeful of fruition after waiting for a fortnight. No Warfarin, but I do have a few left. No INR nurse arrived to take the blood for testing. No DVT nurse came for the vein draining. Heard nothing about the next brain scan. The after-stroke & falls team have not appeared for a few weeks. I’m out of the cream for Little Inches’ fungal lesion.
And I’ve had a tumble in the kitchen. Hands and knees job back to the front room, knocking the bottles of spring water off of the ottoman en route… with one of them landing right on my Onychovryotosis (ingrowing toenail). Slipped using the arm of the  c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nobbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, to get back up on my feet. Had to sit down for a while.
The Carer gals had done their best for me.
But there is always that feeling; ‘What next!’ There’s always something going wrong. Now it’s emails from Grammarly telling me my renewal has been refused, but not why. Is it another con job?
Depression is a constant in my life now!
Still, the Matron called to see me. She’s been asked to by the Doctor, who was worried about me? Now that’s new and nice! I mentioned the lack of medications, night bags for the catheter, and the odd sensations that overcome me at times. The problems with mail, email and the computer, not being able to get onto online banking to sort things out; and no help available with these issues. At least, I think I mentioned these difficulties to
Matron. If not, I meant to.
Now 23:45hrs, and I’m up to here in the blog. Tired, smelly, worried, half-out-of-it, and so hungry. Nowt new here then…
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A night of with the odd bother from tormenting ensuring that I seemed to spend longer awake than asleep. I gave up trying around 05:00hrs.

The urine looks darker than it really was when I emptied the pouch.

No change in the ankles.

No chance of any cloud pareidoliaing this morning.
White cars rule in the car park.

Jimminee, the colour of the wee this time was almost perfect.
And I was passing a lot, too!

The computer on! Made an order for Asda for next week. And signed up for the Delivery pass, which should save me a little. Went for the cheaper one, so I have to book orders for Tue-Wed-Thur each time to get it free.

The urine is getting a move-on today.
Lovely colour too!

Wonderful clouds this afternoon!

During the day, I had Carers Kara, Domestic Denise, Carer Josef, and Carer Carer Sam, who brought the part-medications for me; bless her. And bless Carer Carolynne, who looked at the computer problem for me. No decision was made or action was taken; mind you, she didn’t have the time.

Went to check on the spuds in the slow cooker.
Not sure how I took this photo?

Matron arrived. As I said earlier, whatever I could remember about the medicationalistical situation, I passed on to her. Got a student with her.

Hahaha! The wee kept on coming!
A good thing, methinks?

Overcast as the rain stopped, I took this picture.
Not very good, is it? Tsk!.

It’s gerrin’ a better colour as the night comes on! Great!

Nosh Served Up

The potatoes were slow-cooked with sea salt & vinegar.
Can if garden peas, and a first for me, never tried them before, imitation fish goujons, with a cob or two. Followed by the cheapest of yoghourts, flavoured with some lemon curd mixed in. (Nice!)
The vegan batter on the goujons was okay; the content of them was, well… tasteless! Disappointing, shan’t bother with them again.
Overall, a flavour rating of 6.2/10.

Left the pots in the sink soaking and got my head down.
Colin Cramps gave me a break, and even Anne Gyna only woke me up with her stabbing pains about six times.
The tiny day catheter pouch Still none of the larger night bags delivered); let me know it needed emptying twice.
As you can see by the top Ode, Dementia Doreen gave me an odd dream to use in the rhyme. Bless her!

May you find fun and festivities & have fantastic future feasts frequently!

INCHIE: Monday 27th March 2023

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Worra duff day, again!
There are still no medications or night Catheter bags delivered.
So no chance of any pain relief fro Ann Gyna; or poor Little Inchie bleeding and chaffing on the Catheter tubing. So nowt new there!
I seem to have attained a permanent state of depression this morning… well it’s well into the afternoon now… good heavens! Just looked at the one clock left working, and it’s nearly teatime… as it used to be. 17:00hrs!

Let’s have it… who stole the day?
This place is full of mystery and connivery!
Time moves without my knowledge, I say!
Little things can be so digressionary…
I washed-up last night, but I can’t find the cutlery?
My Porcelain visits indicate the onset of dysentery!
Anne Gyna, Colin Cramps, and swollen ankles all getting at me!
I’m breathing better, but I’m coughing more this Monday…
I don’t mind coughing; I’m not keen on a coffin!
All the usual traits linger on, like being dithery…
The catheter tube making Little Inchie bloody,
Should I change this blog into a shockumentary?
I’m not in good shape, physically…
But in a far worse plight mentally!

Each night I’m so tired, my eyes cloudy & bleary…
I can get off to sleep usually…
But not now, thanks to the apothecary…
No Anne Gyna tablets, Colin Cramps, painfully…
Both ensure that I sleep abortively…
Waking me in pain so often, grindingly!
In despair. Had enough, Me? Absobloodylutely!

Pretty coloured wee-wee this morning.

A little misty.
City Hospital is in there somewhere.

The trees are coming on well in the roads below…

When the petals fall in the fall, will they be messy at all?

Bootiful puffer-clouds.
I don’t think that’s the official name of them…

A few hours later…

I’ve only had one Porcelain Throne evacuation yet.
Carer Sam and Carer Jo-Anne have called.
I’ve been in and out of it again.
No medications or night Catheter bags come.
Fancy that! And it’s only been a week without the
medications & Catheter bags.
Bloody agony – but is anyone interested? Silly question!
Isn’t life good?..

The door chime chimed – it was the postman. Delivering
the camera from my cyber-buddy Tim Price. Bless him!
Cracking camera that I can carry in my pocket, if ever
I get out again, that is. I was like a kid opening the
box. I took a snap of the old Fuji with it

Then one of the new Kodak with the Fuji.

Then the first cloud photo with the new one. Smashing! Thanks, Tim!

Carer Jodie called; no medications or bags.
Helped me with text messages.

Back on the Kodak…


Flat views.

Thick veg soup with tons of flavouring.
Liquid smoke, sea salt & BBQ sauce.
Flavour rating: 6.4/10 (Can’t win ’em all!).

called. Sorted the meds… well, not them we had run out of, naturally. No night bags to use. We had a little chin-wag.

She woke me more often than MPs fiddle with their tax returns. So sleep was another farce. No sooner got down in the c1966 Charity shop bought, second-hand, whiningly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, and the kicked off. One good thing is that he gave me a break; he was of no bother at all! Not that he was needed, mind you – with no medications for her, was more than enough to guarantee me a lack of sleep again!


INCHIE: Saturday 25th March 2023

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I thought this might be a good spot to
show some old used before photographs
of Nottingham Sherwood pavement cyclists
Just to make the point, they are a danger!

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As of now, 17:05hrs, there are still no night catheter pouches, prescription medications or Finasteride tablets for the shrinking of the prostate to allow a trail without the damned painful, annoying, clumsy, messy, painful… Painful, oh, I’ve said that, haven’t I? (Well it is!) catheter, to see if I can have a manual pee once again, delivered to me. So, I’m doomed to agony and discomfort. Not that it bothers me.
Just thought I’d mention it!

The day bag was not a good colour this morning.

Had a sad moment over my not being able to go on one of the trips-out days! Ah, well, “Que sera, sera!”

Spots of morning rain.

The requirements were the same as over the last three days. A first visit – messy to evacuate and clean up.
The tank had to be refilled manually again, which involved fetching water from the cold faucet/tap that works in the kitchenette, carrying it back to the wet room, and pouring it (or at least some of it) into the tank – three times. Then flushing, but it didn’t take all the product – so I had to repeat the actions. again. acci-whoop This time my luck wasn’t so good… I lost grip of the bowl and water from the kitchen – drenched the dressing gown, me and the floor! Naturally, I took it all in my stride and did not get angry or get pissed off, swear, spit or curse! 
Finished cleaning the wet room, then off to the kitchen to do the same in there. I broke the handle on the mop and banged my knuckles on the edge of the radiator! Within minutes of returning to the front room, the 2nd visit was required!
This seems to be the usual pattern nowadays.
The second visit was even messier than the first evacuation. Bu7t at least I didn’t have any spillages. I cunningly only filled the bowl a third full, thus, I could carry it with the one good hand  I have and used Metal Mickey in the other. Crafty eh? but of course, it meant four trips to the kitchen instead of two. The morning was getting into the lunchtime zone with all the farting about that I had to do! Now a hemerine task and risk to add to the others!
What with no new Finasteride medications arriving for the prostrate… I mean prostate, running out of tablets, the constant pain from this and . Then there’s a new problem… although I had been warned it was bound to start. This is from an old friend . Now both or either hand fingers are not letting me grip things or refusing to allow me to let go of things? The cursed Eye-Ailment-Brigade; , and , is making things harder as well. Doing this blog will be too much shortly, I fear. CorelDrawing is easier and can be resized quickly, so all is not fatal yet. No night bags for about a week either, so the bladder cannot have its nightly flushing out of the infection? Still, it was day bags I ran out of last time. Nobody is telling me anything. The After-stroke falls team lady and District nurses have not been for a long time.
Just listen to me! Whingeing, grumbling, grumping, and snivelling-on?

Mid morning.

Afternoon view

Flavoured the baked beans with liquid smoke, BBQ sauce, and a splash of aged malt vinegar.

The changing skies over Sherwood… Chronologically

Beautiful late afternoon puffer clouds.

Pareidolia prompting picture!

Pareidolia prompting picture!
Converted to Sepia.

In yer face, Sun!

Pareidolia prompting picture!

Pareidolia prompting picture!


Sunset Selection…

The oh, so high moon cometh…

Best close up I could manage.
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INCHIE: Friday 24th March 2023

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Overview, Revue & Waffling Ode
I sat looking at the screen for an age, impotent,
Trying to be creative, but I couldn’t,
The brains power and batteries were absent,

The mind was not interested nor compliant!
But, I was determined to get through this addlement…
This Mind-Blank, with a feeling of being insignificant,
My thought process is uncomplaisant…
Was it Doreen’s Dementia being defiant?
The thoughts fused, terribly absonant…
Focus clarifies a smidgen, then back to blent,
Many hours I’ve just spent…
Doing this ode, although claudicant…
I’ve written very little, originally meant…
Going through denudement, with no denouement!
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The urine was another bad colour.

Popped through the letterbox was a leaflet regarding Winwood Heights Social activities. Which was impossible to read due to the small print and, of course, , & are chief suspects as well. My immediate desires inspired, were for me to go on a day trip out to the coast, maybe?
Then, of course, reality kicked in.
How the heck would I cope with the catheter and bag emptying?
Taking the medications? Ans, should be some miracle I made it to Skegness; there would be no way on the planet that I could resist a fish & chip meal!
Then, of course, should I be foolish enough to go on one – there is little doubt that one of the medical procedures I’m on the list for would arrive on the same day! Plenty to choose from; Cataracts, Glaucoma, Saccades, replacement bladder, and DVT vein bleed. Or another one of the Brain Scans.
I’ll have to go into a self-sulk mode and forget about any idea of a day at the seaside; it’s just impracticable! (Is that the right word?)

The Iceland order arrived.

Strawberry treats for the gals. With some different drinks this time. Vanilla ice-cream-flavoured ones. I tried one later from the fridge – very nice!
The especially ‘flattened’ wholemeal rolls. Miraculously, they had some of the cheap kitchen towels in stock for once.

The highlight was a meal I had never tried before.
Looking forward to this.

Good Heavens…

The urine was running a much healthier colour!

Mind Blank Time
One minute I was on the computer, went to the Throne, and found myself five hours later, standing in the kitchen taking photos in the dark? Obviously, Carers had called, but could I remember who and when? No!


Got back to the computer but just could not focus, so packed up and back to take the photos again.

The rain has stopped, and as I went into the kitchenette, the sun found a gap in the clouds, offering me some pareidoliaing time.

Got the oven on heating up for the potato chunks. The ready meal will go in the microwave for nine minutes. So potatoes in when the heat gets to 200, 20 minutes later, I can put the Moussaka in the microwave, and hopefully, they will both be ready at the same time.

Back to the . acci-whoop The messy evacuation needed cleaning up. Then I realised that the WC tank was filling up very slowly – and while doing it, there was no water available from the cold tap on the sink? Friday night again – things always go wrong when there is no one on-site to help! Grumph!

Back to check on the meal to check…
But could not resist these views, a Pareidlia’s delight!

Both of these snaps offered up a multitude of figures for me to identify. The fact is, I was at it so long I overcooked the potatoes – but nae bother, I like them tinged a little brown around the edges.

Gorgeous tasting this one was!
I was sat in the second-hand shop-bought, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly-sickeningly-beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner, feasting on this wonderfully flavoured fodder; when, in came Carer Jozef. He was soon off, with no night bag to change and no medications to give – they have still not arrived yet!

Finished off the nosh, washed things up and settled to watch a Jonathan Creek episode on the TV.
But it was not to be...

INCHIE: Thursday 23rd March 3023

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I’d like to report that things were very much better today.
But I can’t!
The agony of worries over the shortages of medications and the tube chaffing from tube; many other things, but the main one was , who was winning the battle with never having been so bad.
, & Sac ensured that my vision was crap and getting worse. Plus, so many hours were spent correcting mistakes. Just thought I’d mention it.

As usual for the last two weeks, frustratingly, there was no night-bag to change. This mystery of the medication’s non-arrival, and unattainable night catcher bags, is the reason for the pain I’m suffering. The night bag gave the day bag a refresh, which I believe helped clear the infection from the bladder. The mega-high Blood Pressure and the darkening urine since these things stopped coming to indicate this to me. But I’m powerless to do anything about them. No District nurse calling; new medications, along with last months medication, supposedly waiting for collection at the pharmacy. No DVT or
Phlebotomy nurse called in weeks now? I’m in bad pain through the lack of tablets. Doreen’s Dementia is affecting my responses. The eyes are making everyday tasks harder and full of accidents and mistakes. Oh, dear! Just thought I’d mention it. Not that it helps, of course.

Fancy that!
But it lightened later.

Morning view

But the blood pressure was horrendous! I did extra checks in the hope that it would come down, but… Nope! Wonder if this is due to the none attainment of, and running out of some medications?

Fingers crossed

Oh the bright side (I had to look very hard, Hehe!), the ankle ulcers were nice and calm. (Says Inchie as he gets grief from the catheter tube via Little Inchie and cleans the blood up changers protection pants,
Then get more stabbings from .

A bad day all round today.
Window-Man Joe called to do them.
I was out of it most of the time with taking so many painkillers, I think.
No idea what had happened for several hours.
I keep mentioning the pain I was in to each Carer.
At least, I think I must have.

Got the meal served up early, I gave up trying to concentrate on the computer. Cooked the meal without any damage. Hehe!

Sat watching TV with subtitles and devouring the pleasantly tasty meal I’d done for myself. Pretend meat (Very nice), beetroot, tomatoes, and potato cubes done in the oven after being sprayed with oil.
Carer Josef arrived mid-feast. Can’t recall what happened, he was soon off, as there was no night bag to change, and I’d already taken the painkillers & Peptac. Nice lad.