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SUNDAY 11th OCTOBER 2026
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0615hrs: I stirred in the recliner where I’d fallen asleep.
I started a body check, groping, moving and stretching to test out the morning’s ailment situation.
An amazing feeling spread all over me and through my brain. It took me a while to identify it. After musing through the possibilities, it came back to me, and I nervously realised… wait for it… Scary stuff!
I Felt Almost on the verge of Contentment!
Exercise over, I rose on my feet without any dizziness of balance problems! I picked up the nocturnal Catheter pouch and carried it into the wet room to check the quantity and colour, then emptied it.
I thought I’d have a wash & shave while I was in there. That idea was squashed when I found the hot water was running cold. My instant reaction was semi-panic, thinking I might have left the kitchenette tap running. Alzheimer’s disease with Lewy body Vascular Dementia had struck again. At this stage, Anne Gyna kicked off and stayed with me all day, bless her.
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A similar turn as yesterday started. Confusion, lack of concentration, and I did not care. I was so fed up with things, failures, dropping and walking into things, with an air of almost resignation. Carer Edward did the first visit; honestly, he’s about as useful as an ornament.
Carer Imran did the next two, with a lot more listening and a more willing attitude than Andrew. Not a bad lad, but Andrew does not listen when I ask him to do things. Helpful things; he’s on his mobile for most of any visit. He reminds me of a young 1970s British Railways, British 
Leyland or Miner’s Trade Unionist. Which reminds me of an ornament of sorts I have atop of the non-working electric fire. Yes, it’s a squeaky Maggie! 💙
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Further along, it’s rare, singular proof that I actually won someone once. I’m not sure of the year, but I had some hair on my head, not yet had a stroke, duodenal ulcer rupture, a mechanical aorta-valve installed, my hernia, been shot, no haggard drawn features, as far as I can see, no glaucoma, cataracts, double pneumonia, burst eardrum, broken bones at all, no elephantine stomach weighing me down, no arthritis, TBI, dementia, had a two-up two-down house, garage, car. I had sex a minimum of three times a week… Happy Days!
I was being presented with an angling cup for winning a match on the Leicester Canal.
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Carer Imram took these snaps of the state of my left leg when he checked out my body for areas in need of barrier cream. He asked if anyone checked my Catheter.
“Do they not put the cooling cream og the scratches that you itch at night?” (No), “Does the Catheter get moved to the other leg weekly? (No),
He medicated things.
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An email arrived saying the biscuits would arrive in a two-hour window. With the intercom not working, I made sure I got down to the foyer to let the delivery man in at 
the start of the window.
They arrived with one minute to spare, and I was amazed to see the driver use his own swipe card to get in! Went up with me to the flat and put the boxes on the floor in the doorway. I got the bikkies into glass jars, devouring a couple as I did.
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Got myself in a pickle with the numbers on the health check sheet again! So many errors, and they cost me even more time as the day progressed. Frustrating!
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Talk about losing it again. No wonder I make so many mistakes. I started updating the blog, turned on the TV, and fell asleep in the chair for about two hours!
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The Carer was here when I searched for the finger blood tester and found the new Kodak FZ243 camera I purchased many months ago and never opened. Backs of the 
old and new ones above.
Fronts of them below.
I was overjoyed at being able to use the old camera’s indoor option. But this was not to be! The new camers 
doesn’t have that option anymore, damn it; that is one of the reasons I got that camera! (Although I forgot I had, Tsk!) The other was my familiarity with using it.
Setting it up was a struggle and a half for me.
I’m not kidding, it took me over an hour to set the time and date, and the new one doesn’t let me use British English or change the format to what we are used to, just American Month-Day-Year. Humph! I loved that indoor option, too! Double-Humph!
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Still bright late afternoon
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Vacuuming session
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Blockage from Bladder to Catheter Pouch agony
Inchie Today: Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Sorry, only did bits on Thursday.
Alzheimers effects; very bad new trends. Coccyx, District Nurses, Toothache Tiffany, Bladder bloated, new floaters. Leg shakes. Then,
agony from blocked Catheter.
Oxycodone painkillers; no effect!
So far behind; no time to catch up.
Pain; warping my poor Brain
Not that it wasn’t warped before.
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Midday clouds,
As I turned away from the window, I fell…
My right leg suddenly shook; I had a tumble,
My right knee wound started bleeding…
The door chime started ringing…
I shouted as loud as I could, “Come in”!
The postman did, & began my rescuing…
So, no need for the panic-button pressing!
Thus avoided any hospitalisationing!
I foolishy my luck was improving!
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Caer Prem made the late call; he is now part of my chosen elite band of the Carers. Ejaz, Mirza, now Prem.
I explained why I had no time to get my feet and lower legs done, and why I couldn’t have an assisted shower again (it must be eight weeks since). He said he would do it tomorrow night, but the lad would never have the time on a late call, and he got the bowl and washed my feet for me. He had to rush off after that for his last call of the day. Still found time to do safety checks and warn me about the oven being on, as with the days’ keruffe, I was late eating. I know I took a snap of the food tray… certain, positive! But it disappeared from the SD card. Yet I found one on it that of didn’t remember taking. What was the new classification given to me last week?
Alzheimer’s with LBD & Vascular Dementia? Yes!
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Evening All!
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Friday 9th October 2026
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Unfortunately, I didn’t. I did learn how to cope with more pain than I’ve ever had from the Catheter Contraption. Mostly teeth-gritting, accompanied by the use of some innovational, demiurgic, quirky, bizarre language, combined with a pathetic adoption of singularly bizarre self-pity.
It worked to a degree for the first blockage, but the second one beat me hands down. On self-lambasting, I did not skimp – But I did feel a right whimp!
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Spelling mistake? Me? Yes!
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0615hrs: I woke with a fair bit of pain coming from the bladder area of my stomach. Flowback pains! I grabbed the torch to check the nocturnal pouch on the floor near the bed. No night bag has ever had less urine than this one. Later, I identified the contents as 90ml!
The pains were slowly getting worse, especially when I mountaineered from the bed and tried to do the balance routine. I was dizzy the moment I stood up. I retrieved the pouch and wanted to ring the District Nurses straight away, but lost concentration because I needed the Porcelain Throne. As I hobbled carefully through the doorway to the toilet, I knocked a pair of washed trousers off a coat hanger and bent down to pick them up.
A big mistake that! Instead of picking them up, I joined them on the floor! Unbelievable! (well, not to me), Best I recall, the urine flowed from the penile fungal lesions; I hit my head against the door frame, trying to get into as painless a position as possible, to crawl to the recliner and try to get up on my feet again. It might have been morning, but it felt like was nightmare. The pain I put myself through getting onto my knees, and I fought through the pain and got myself onto the recliner. The knee wound was knocked in the battle; blood poured. I stayed there a few minutes, in such discomfort, and waited for the pain to ease. Which they did.
Why did I not just press the alarm-alert button on my wristlet? I’ll tell you the truth… Fear! The thought of going to hospital yet again! Which was enough to make me fight on. Thinking it is likely that I’ll still end up there to get the Catheter sorted… that place is like a torture chamber nowadays with cruel, fed-up, uncaring guards, formerly known as nurses, especially in the Urology Wards. Each of the five visits I’ve been forced to make has a constant sound of wailing, sobbing, screaming, pain-ridden patients ringing around. I could hear them while I was in the corridors waiting to be seen. Finally, I started to clean up the messes I’d made and changed plans again: get 
back to the WC sharply. During the battle to get the product moving, urine squirted out of the mini-holes in the fungal lesions. Had to put on a second pair of protection pants. I’d only just put the others on. Should I snuff it with a stroke or whatever, I wouldn’t complain. My EQ belatedly said worse was coming. Depressed? In Pain? Me?
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Carer Edward arrived as I was painfully finishing of the mess cleaning. After he gave me the medications, I asked him to ring the District Nurses. Thankfully, they would send someone to look at things. I took a morphine (Oxycodone) painkiller and a Codeine. The pain was slowly turning into agony now. After Edward merrily departed, I had to keep busy, concentrate on whatever I was doing to try to take my mind off of the excruciating pain. Something active, not computer work.
I took two snaps from the kitchen window.
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Middle field & Tree Copse
Houses opposite
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Tidied and hoovered the hallway.
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Then made up some spring and Soda water bottles.
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The nurse arrived. Rebecca, I think. A lot of things went through my head… which, normally, I just can’t keep in my head nowadays. As I recall:
1) I hoped that Becky could get the tube back in…
2) I prayed that I would not have to go to the hospital. I’d sooner go to prison.
3) I pondered whether the computer man might arrive… Silly me! Hahaha!
4) The Alzheimer’s voluntary supporter may come.
5) The Social lady, Sahra, would?
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The nurse soon had me on the bed. (Ah, memories) And put the painkiller in, then removed the tube. I think she said she would order the Catheter contraption supplies needed, then let me know the correct place to contact, email & telephone number. The new pouch filled very quickly. She emptied it and recorded the amount and colour for me. 💗
Then the big issue: getting the new tube in! She told me to take a deep breath, as she got the tube on her first effort. The pain sidipatung is a wonderful experience! I became a little like the old me, the comedian, the happy old chap. It was just great!
I was full of the joys of spring-like.
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Ejaz arrived for a long call; they’d moved it from Saturday to Friday. The lad earned his dosh today, as always. Bless him. He took the laundry down first, then we talked about the appointments we needed to make. He made me a brew of Glengettie; he always remembers how I like it, too. Then he rang the audio Clinic, to book an appointment to have both of them mended/sorted.
Confirmed by text for 12:00hrs on Tuesday 29th October. It took him ages, and he left a little late.
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I was still unaware of the time and was working on this blog. And felt the warm urine as it dripped onto my sock and slipper. The connector on the Catheter had fallen out! What a mess! I couldn’t get my socks off, and the late Carer didn’t remove them. The intercom doesn’t work every time. I had to use the pickeripper, to get a carrier bag over my left foot.
How much more can I take?
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I searched through the Carer’s medications on their desk and took another Oxycodone. Now I’m in a pickle!
Another night without any sleep, second time this week!
I dare not, for fear of the Catheter falling out again.
The bag has just stopped collecting urine, again. The flowback pain is mounting.
Now 0250hrs. What can I do?
It looks like the hospital…
ARRGH!
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I keep guzzling water, hoping of get the wee flowing.
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I’ll press on until I’m forced to get a taxi to hospital A&E.
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Ah, I’m getting a few drops of almost red urine dripping into the pouch occasionally. The pain is lessened a bit.
What’s going on? Did the connector dropping off cause this? Ah, I forgot to tell you about the toe-clipping gal; she came and cut them. Paid the £35. What a terrible day, and then a horrible sleepless night.
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I still can’t get any sleep, for fear of missing the morning’s food delivery and the extra water to drink. And of course, the intercom isn’t working again. All part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court. With its spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, and spirits. The damned seizures, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity. My faith, sanity, and logic were already waning. Worst of all, this damned non-working Catheter contraption. No sleep for two nights this week.
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I met a chap today; he visited the flat, you see,
He had, or was a BCA, MRA, LLM & LLB,
Plus a Law Master’s Degree,
Why did he come to see me?
Importantly, who was he?
Take a guess; it’s all for free!
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There is a chance, cause the bladder is now hurting me, I’ll be on a journey to the QMC,
To go through utter agony…
At the A&E, or urology,
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That’s it from me!
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Inchie Today: Fri/Sat 1st-2nd May 2026
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Woke up feeling fairly good, and got the kitchen floor mopped. Straight after finishing this, I got a stand-up wash, shave, teeth, and medicalised where I could reach. Then into the front room to sort the bins into one bag…
DARNED TROTSKY TORRENTS DIAHORREA
For the whole day & most of the night!
First Call: The torrent came as I was standing up to go to the Porcelain Throne. Mess number one.
Second Call: Five minutes after getting back to the room and taking an antidiarrhea pill.
Mess number Two: At least I didn’t have to hand-wash my clothes this time, but the floor, porcelain legs, foot and lid needed attention.
Third Call, at least I made it in time. More liquid than ever. I thought things might be getting calmer.
Fourth Call: As Carer was here. No spillages, but the stomach started to rumble and grumble, and I faded.
I decided to just sit down and not do anything else, but I did not want to fall asleep in case of another splurge came while in the land of nod. Also, I had a food order on the way. that I did not put the time of on the calendar.
The Nurse arrived to rebandage the leg. Seconds after she left, off to the Porcelain Throne again.
Fifth Call: Un-Rotton-believable! I cannot understand or know why this particular orgy of foul-smelling, all-but-liquid excrement lasted so long. How was all that still in by innards after four lengthy evacuations? No wonder I had suffered from stomachache permanently. How is this possible?
I wouldn’t say I felt actually poorly, as such.
Tired out, with aches and pains, and, to make things that little bit more uncomfortable, I had to put on the large protection pants to help catch any early escapes from the rear end. Thus, hurting Little Inchy as the pants trapped the tube in the Catheter, and the fugal lesion started bleeding.
Sixth Call: I was convinced things were beginning to ease off this time. Same liquid structure, but just one spurt, and it was all over.
Seventh Call: Obviously, I was wrong. This noon visit was yet another Trotsky Terence Torrent.
Each of the first 12 or so visits to the Porcelain Throne meant pain, cleaning up the wet room, and painful medicationings. I was growing weaker as the day dragged on. I gave up counting them here.
At a guess, 10 more followed up to 17:30 hours, and heavenly peace prevailed!
But I was incapable of concentrating, all I wanted to do was stay awake for the food delivery, sort it, and get myself some sleep… Please!
I began to think that I may not have ordered one after all. Yes, hard to believe I could forget something, I know. (Sarcasm Crept In?)
The food arrived at 19:30hrs,
Got it stored away, and realised that in all the time taken, I’d not had a call to the Porcelain Throne!
The dream of sleeping became a reality.
At least a possibility,
But it became a futility…
I got in bed, feeling so sleepy…
Off to the Porcelain Throne for me,
Diahorrea; will I ever be free?
Yet another visit, I made it in time. Still, I dare not get back in bed, so set myself down 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. Where I had to get up from another half-dozen times in the night.
Not one of my best days.
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Slightly eerie morning?
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Through the balcony windows
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Straight ahead from the kitchen window. With the sun coming up from the rear left.
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To the left, a little bit of sunshine on the right.
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Slightly to the right. My much-missed daily walking through the tree copse. New pathway up the hill to the right of the battered but beautiful trees. coppice. Ah, so sad.
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To the left again. I was trying to snap the police helicopter, but by the time I was ready, it had gone or landed in pursuit of some low-life.
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Moody view taken later on by Carer Ejaz, of the front car park on Citrus Way.
While I was busy on the Porcelain Throne.
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Memory Photographs
Taken from my flat window in 2018 during the modernisation of Winwood Heights. Consisting of Winchester Court, Winwood Court, & my Woodthorpe Prison… Court.
Taken in 2009.
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Due to my getting Carer Ejaz & Carer Mizra calling on me. They were sorely missed.
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Inchie: Tuesday 28th April 2026 = Computer Assessed, Not Good!
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Worra Night!
After eating the meal of the day and really enjoying it, washing the pots and visiting the Porcelain Throne, I unfortunately suffered an Accifauxpa and didn’t get there in time. But it could have been worse; it has been many times this year, and it only took me about 15 minutes to clean things up.
I decided sleep was next in line for my attention. I seemed to have fallen asleep quickly… I felt I had when waking at 02:00hrs, again in desperate need of the Porcelain Throne. Not wanting to risk another accident, I fumbled my way out of the bed and hobbled-hastily to the wet room.
A darned close call, I only just made it. Where all the evacuating little, short dollops kept coming from, I don’t know. 
I cast my mind back as the plop-plops kept coming. I only ate my favourite nosh, cheesy baked potato. I can’t recall such a reaction to these before. To be on the safe side, I got down in the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, Catheter tube trapping, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. To enable a swifter reply in case I need to go again.
0315:hrs, and I was off again to the Porcelain Throne. I got there more swiftly this time. No accidents.
When I got back to the recliner, I almost felt another follow-through trying to make its way down. I could not get to sleep again now. I sort of just waited for the next evacuation warning to arrive. It came at 06:00hrs. A lot less passed this time. Thankfully, I got there in plenty of time. I pondered, I do that sometimes, you know. Was the cheese in the baked potatoes out of date?
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The day brought forth some challenges, not of the rear-end evacuation type. Attilla the Carer, Ra
chid did the first two calls, so my low mood was set. The feet and toes seem to adapt much more easily at first. Three toe-stubbings in the first hour put an end to that bit of pleasure. I partially opened the balcony curtains, and when the sun comes out, I have to close them. Bright sun doesn’t suit Cataract Katie or Glaucoma Gladys. This snap came out as it looked. A medical delivery arrived. Concentration was bad when I got on the computer. But I reckon it was less bothersome than yesterday morning.
I did my best to get the Monday blog finished before the computer man arrives. I pressed on, making mistake after mistake, and I don’t know how long it took, but I got it sent off. Fearing that many cock-ups will be in the finished blog.
I took another shot through the balcony windows, dead excited about this blog, innit? Hahaha!
Carer Rashid did the next call. Nothing much happened; if he can ignore me, I can ignore him. Haha!
After he’d not too soon for me, gone, I got the kettle on.
And the intercom sounded. I was overjoyed!
The Computer Man Cameth
Less than a minute later, Carer Mizra came in behind the computer genius Andy. Who spent a long time asking questions and assessing the state of the computer for me. Mirza conducted the communications. After much effort from Andy, trying to install the two-terabyte external hard drive in the computer. At least I think it was a two-terabyte-sized one. The old computer would not let him transfer anything from the other drive to save space,
Mizra ran out of time, so no time for me to have an assisted shower or to get the laundry done again.
Andy ended up asking if I wanted to use this machine as it is, with slightly more memory, but not a lot, or do you want me to source a suitable used one with Asif, that will cope with CorelDraw, which has very little space left to do much. I said I’d go with his recommendation. The goal was to get a new computer. Fair enough for me. So, be it. Bank Balance considerations, of course. Andy will report the needs back to Asif. Closed the computer down.
As Andy left, I realised that the Catheter pouch was overdue for emptying. So, I emptied it. Haha!
I’m feeling a smidge more hopeful now that Andy’s been and sorted this computer out, and I agree with his decision that a new (second-hand, refurbished) machine would be the best option for me.
The legs, feet, and toes were all looking better when Ejaz took these snaps, which I put together, but not very well. Looks like a mangle of limbs, the way I did this, manipulating. Hehe!
Frank arrived with some treats that Jenny, my angel, had sent for me. I gave him a small box of stuff for the Charity or handing out. Had a little outing with Frank, a lovely couple of neighbours who I am very proud to have as Guardians & friends. Bless them both. So understanding and helpful. X I’d made a meal earlier, I’ll not eat all of it, after the feast from Jenny.
The computer went down, died!
The landline stopped working!
The TV stopped working!
My heart and interest in living went into hold mode. My first actions, apart from panicking, were to try to think about what I was doing or did wrong that caused the catastrophe in the first place. Or had Andy missed something earlier? The chances were that it was my error, a mistake, or that I accidentally caught a dangerous, fatal combination of keys. As I have one in the past. Causing all sorts of problems due to the dying neurotransmitters.
They warned me there was no treatment, saying they cannot mend damaged nerve ends, and it will slowly get worse. They were right.
I thought I’d give it some time before trying to restart the computer, in case it was doing something all technical in the background.
I picked up the landline thingy, put it down, and it made a tone. The mystery deepened.
I had no idea for certain of what I did with the TV to get it back on. Turned it on a few times, and it turned itself off. Got it to stay on, displaying a No. Connected sign. Then pressed the TV button on the remote control, and the TV closed down again. I pointed the remote at the scary, threatening Virgin box, and the red light turned yellow. Then tried again to start the TV, and dropped the control thingy. Got the picker-upper and retrieved it, to see that the TV had come on?
I prayed that getting the computer back would be as easy as that. (It wasn’t and didn’t!)
In the past, when launching the computer, I’d get a ‘DoS’ message telling me to press ESC for details. This would bring up a dreaded blue screen. Press Enter for options. Another blue screen says to press F1 to start the computer. This has happened each time I’ve opened it for about 3 years or more now.
But not now… The black screen opens, but pressing ESC does nothing. Also, I could not turn off the computer at the button, had to switch the power off. I kept repeating this pattern, so many times and for so long. Not knowing what else I could try. Each go was met with failure.
No sleep tonight. Mind on the verge of exploding. self-pity, futility, anger… Mostly, the sour, blood-draining effects of Deep, Dark, Dank, Depression Darius.
And to think, I had gone up into a high a few hours ago when the computer was sorted…
That didn’t last long, did it?
Heartlessly, I put the meal in the microwave. It looked okay, smelled okay, but after feartily enjoying Jenny’s treats, combined with the Computer problems, I just couldn’t eat more than a few spoonfuls. I couldn’t get to sleep either. I scribbled down the times I got up to try to restart the computer.
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Inchie Today: Thursday 16th April 2026
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A mixed day. 
visited a few times, but 
after each visit, he stayed all night when the Catheter stopped flowing again in the evening. Backflow pains are so bad, with me having none of the new pain medication to fight them. Just to throw another spanner in the works, Anne Gyna was having a right go at me through the night. Needless to say, sleep was at a premium. Insufficient to meet the demand needed for me to be in any state to face getting up in the morning. Note: I don’t say “waking up”- that’s a no-go if I can’t get to sleep in the first place. More frustrating was nurse Maude saying there was nothing they could do about it, or Little Inchys fungal lesion, which has grown in size since her last visit. So, I did my best to adopt a ‘Grin & Bear it attitude. Not very successfully, I’m afraid. I kept repeatedly trying to push the tube further in, and guzzling so much water that I’ll have to order more tomorrow. Just to boost those in hand in the hallway. Just in case this becomes a regular occurrence. I’ll try ordering some soda water as well. and drink one between each bottle of spring water. If the painkillers arrive, I may cope a little easier with it. It’s even worse tonight, with Anne Gyna stabbing away as well. Oh, I fear I was using a lot of naughty language each time the surge returned. Luckily, Duodenal Donald is not active at the moment… oh dearie me… should I have risked saying that?
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On with the Tale Of Woes: I 
woke, rose and got the night Catheter off; it had an amazing 650ml of urine in it and was a fair colour. I drank a litre of spring water to try to keep the flow going, and it worked; the pouch was filling up again. Made a brew and visited the Porcelain Throne. 
I almost casually meandered wobblingly partway to the wet room, the last stretch an Arthur Itis bothering fast as I could rush. Verbally asking things not to come too soon. Whoever I was talking to obviously did not hear me. Cleaning up after the 3-second watery evacuation took me ages.
That was a great start to the day, then!
I meandered into the kitchen in my freshly adorned 
slippers, protection pants, kaghoule, and dressing gown, and got the kettle on, taking this snap of the morning view. Nice!
Carer arrived as I was struggling to start the computer, sat down, and used his mobile phone. Then gave me the medications at the computer chair and asked: “You want Tea?” I explained, ‘Not now, thanks, until I get the computer on properly.’ I was going through a different routine of trying all 5 methods available, but in a different order, and I don’t want to lose where I was with it. Two minutes later, I asked for a mug of tea and got bikkies to dunk in it. No answer. I repeated my request, but it was ignored again as he was on his mobile. Annoyed, I said, “I don’t like to disturb you”. In a louder voice, “I’ll get the tea myself!” And I did. He meandered into the kitchen… “I do that!” And he did. Then went back to his mobile phone. He emptied the pouch and recorded the volume, and went back to his mobile.
Corel Sodding Draw was playing up again, so I had to shut it down at the plug, give it a few minutes and reboot. Had to redo the work I’d done that hadn’t been saved, and do it again. Then save it as another name. Having to delete some stuff again to make memory to do so. And still I’ve not heard anything from the computer man Asif arranged for.
I got some pod peas done and in the slow cooker to have later with a tin of soup, maybe. The fridge is still getting soaked in water, and I’m a bit worried about this.
Sorry here, but time has beaten me again, a few memories I recall and photographs only form here, or I’ll never get caught up. Not that I expect to, anyway. But no… I love doing it, even into the early hours.
Tried to save CorelDraw work… Not enough memory! So had to delete more stuff to make room again to save the CorelDraw graphic. Fed-upedness-Fred dawned to keep 
company.
Closed down everything, and went to get my teeth done, a stand-up wash, a shave, and medicated. Carer Ezra arrived as I was finishing. He cleaned my back for me, got me dressed, and slippered. Did a body check as he dressed me. Medicating Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, and Fractured Knee Frank. So nice 
to see Ezra or Mizra arrive. Caring lads. I turned on the computer and the TV just to take this photo. I got a blast of pain from the urine flowback as Ezra left. Worried without the new painkillers, if it’s another no sleep just pain night, I’ll be a wreck in the morning, and if the flowback continues, I’ll be in a bad way. I pray that the Doctor will send me some heavy-duty painkillers, especially with Anne Gyna being troublesome as well. Cragnangles!
Missed this snap I took earlier today. The pain is affecting my concentration. Genuinely fretting about it kicking off so early in the day tonight. I must stop moaning, I lose my followers, they must all be fed up with it… I’m fed up with it. I apologise to both of them.
Had a seizure or two today, this one just after I’d taken these two, rather decent shots of the evening sky, well, I thought they 
were. Hehehe!
Even the skies seem pissed-off lately. Still beautiful, mind you. The end of days is coming. No point in denying it. The way the world is going, these days indicate, no, shout it out.
Carer Mirza called. I’d got the nosh all ready to cook, so that saved him some time. Painkillers, well, not really Paracetamol, imitation painkillers given.
Easy Meal.
Can of veg soup with a packet of fresh peas added, and some light soy sauce. Milk roll bread to dunk, this was very nice.
Now, Friday morning, at 07:06hrs, I just paid my fourth visit to the 
. Why? You’d have thought eating a can of vegetable soup could affect the rear-end so violently?
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Interned Inchy: Monday 18th November 2024
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WHAT A START!
MIND YOU THE MIDDLE & END WERE NOWT TO SHOUT ABOUT
I stirred around 05:30hrs, after another disturbing jumping and shooting awake imitation night’s sleep in bed.
The nocturnal catheter pouch was the brownest it’s been for a while.
Carer Richard confirmed it as seven on the NHS colour-rating scale card. I was not in good nick this morning, but nothing seemed worse than any other ailment.
I started updating Sunday’s post. As I was about to post it, I got emails and messages from the bank about the payment for my new Tesco account order not being paid. I thought I’d coped well with setting up an account with them.
Over the next few hours, I received more emails and messages from Tesco and the bank. Obviously, I had done something wrong somewhere.
I struggled to get the bank to pay for my Tesco order. A carer tried, the first nurse tried, and then I rang Deana for help. I had eight different passwords come in, and none worked. Five emails from Tesco and three more from the bank. But I could not work out what I’d done wrong, although it was apparent that I’d done something wrong. Another nurse worked it out for me – I’d put the wrong telephone number as I registered with Tesco. I’d put the landline instead of mobile – what a clot and farce that was. Then, I rang Deana to say it was sorted; I’m so glad the nurses came today.
However, I still did not grasp what I had done wrong in the process for a while.
THE NURSE’S VISITS: A nurse called on me (Thank heavens) this morning to replace my Catheter. But she could not get it to go back in. After a phone call for assistance, another nurse arrived to help. An hour later, it was still not back in. They called for an ambulance but were told no non-emergency ambulances were available. So they departed, saying, just like Arnie said in the film, did, “I’ll be back!”
Three nurses arrived later! They got the Catheter painfully for me and sorted it around 20 minutes later. They were in a rush; they had a lot more Catheter-ridden old farts to visit. I said I was sorry to bother them, gave them some nibbles and drinkies of their choice, and was told to ring if there were any problems later. (None yet) I think this is why I did not post the blog properly. Jenny sent me an email as I checked those from Tesco and the bank and posted off Saturday’s blog. Then sent a message to Jenny; “I hope it’s gone through now, Jenny. ♥” Explaining the day I’d had as an excuse for the cock-ups that I’d made already. Hehehe!
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First photographs.
Second photographs.
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THE BED
The torture bed, where things got badder…
Four tries to get the tube back into the bladder,
It felt like I was being mauled by a barracuda,
Blood came from the fungal lesion’s ulcer,
I sang to make the pain easier…
Gene Pitney’s 24-hours from Tulsa,
I thought one nurse was the Grim Reaper, undercover,
My howling was like a documentary voiceover,
My voice recording could be used in Dracula!
Each nurse got annoyed at each failure…
One suggested taking my temperature,
Their kind efforts did not waiver,
In the NHS, I became a believer,
Each nurse was a wallflower with power,
As they worked out how to grab my waggler,
Which was getting smaller and wrinklier,
On the 6th attempt, I sensed they were getting tireder,
My bladder was getting fuller & fuller,
On the 7th, they epitomised womanpower,
Their attitude to me was pure exemplar,
These Angels were so patient and avuncular,
As soon as they’d won, I had gastrectasia…
Telling me to stay in bed for a while, to recover,
The tube reconnected in my tallywhacker…
I was already feeling so much better,
I told each one I loved her!
Nibbles & a drinkies of their choice, I did offer,
I thanked them all for being so spectacular! ♥
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All in, up and running again!
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Tonight’s ready-made meal.
I plan to have some tomatoes and
beef sarnies with it.
Back in the morning… I hope!
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Good Morning!
Carer Promise arrived on his last call and took photos of the snow falling from the balcony.
Then the lad attached the night pouch to the Catheter, which leaked all over the floor!
So I was freezing from him letting the cold into the room, wet, and I had the job of cleaning up the leaked urine, wee’d on legs and slipper!
And all I wanted to do was to get some sleep!
Still, it gave him a laugh. Hehe!
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TTFN each, Joy & Happiness to you All!
Morosophy Inchy: Tuesday 3rd September 2024
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Despite the lurking and attacking throughout the busy day, computer and camera problems, Seizure Sandra, Dizzy Dennis, and Electric Shocking Sherida, there was an element I’ve not experienced since… Oh, let me think… erm… 2007!
“The District Nurse gave me a kiss!”
Thanks to Electric Shocking Sherida, I slept on and off, from the ankle up the leg. The nocturnal pouch was again only partly filled, and the tube held almost brown urine stuck in it—the blowback discomfort was not a good experience.
I got the pouch and went through the same routine as yesterday. Throwing the bag around and shaking the ultra-thick tube until the flow restarted and the blowback pains eased. The nocturnal pouch filled very quickly. Once I’d got the night bag off, the farting diddy day bag filled up straight away. I had to keep emptying it all day. The bending down so often upset Dizzy Dennis. But as of now, 17:05hrs, just the one tumble, but I didn’t go down on the floor; I fell in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner.
I sensed the blood coming from Harold’s Haemorrhoids and made for the wet room to clean and medicate things. Pain and blood, but no evacuations of anything else. I gave up and started to do my other ablutionary duties. Teggies, nasal clearing, earhole olive-oiling, then got shaving. A few nicks here and there, but I’ve had far worse. A good body scrubbing, no areas missed off. Hehe!
Then, it was Harold’s Germoloiding time. The Catheter scars on the leg were Germolened, as were the under-tummy flab area 
and the man’s breasts with a barrier cream. I left the painful one till last. Dang, dang, dang, Dang! The Nerisone ointmentating of poor Little Inchies fungal lesion. Now how can I describe the pain when I 
rub it in? Dire, agonising, grinding, yes, they’ll do! Agonising was left for Constipation Conrad’s visits to the. Well, the first two produced nothing but pain. The third attempt, while Carer Chloe was present, was classed as Super-Agonising as the brick-like content slowly crept out. Amazingly, there was very little bleeding, just a few specs in the evacuated product. Sorry, this tale of woe is out of sync. I can’t find my earlier reminder pages.
Perhaps I threw away the wrong sheet.
I know. It’s hard for anyone who knows my lucid, alert character to think I may have forgotten something. 
The list was lingering this morning.
turned up and looked after me; it was grand. She rang the Doctors for me, making an appointment for Saturday, October 6th, for the Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV) vaccination. Chloe looked at the catheter mess and rang the District Nurses for me. Someone will come out today to check it over. Iceland delivery arrived while she was here. She helped bring the bags in and assisted me in putting some of 
them away. Bless her. She took the waste bags with her as she left. Thank you, Chloe.
I put the rest of the stuff away; there wasn’t much. Three annoying substitutes: They always substitute bread they have none of with the same loaf, which tastes like paper. It was flavourless and broke up if you dunked 
it or tried to spread No-Nutter Butter on it!
They did have a new fresh meal in a bag, 3 for £10, which I tried.
I opened one of the boxes, and it can be cooked; the meat and gravy in the bag, not the box, Hehehe! In five minutes. There was more fat than meat, but I’m a fair man, so I’ll hold any more judgement until I see how it tastes later. I must be unprejudiced, even against a company that takes off the delivery charge if you spend £40, then adds a Bags, Picking & Packing charge. But at least with them, you know something will be out of stock, and c
rap substitutes will be sent; as for the crushing of the fresh food…
We had a smattering of rain laterer a lot, mind you. I had a stroke of good luck as I closed the balcony window. The camera fell, and I caught the shoulder strap, so I saved any damage! 
The District Nurse arrived and said she would order some short-leg-tubed catheters for me. I’ll have many limbs and parts shorter than they should be. Naturally, the almost brown urine that had been stuck in the tube and the fresh wee were much lighter now that she had arrived. Humph!
Two hours later, as I hope you can see in this photo, I’m glad Carer Sham saw it to prove I was not crying wolf. Sham told me the urine in the day bag was equal to a seven on the NHS chart. The tube was again blocked with brown urine, and the flow-back sensation in the bladder was uncomfortable; I put that mildly, mind you.
The drizzle drop stopped, and I got the Kodak to take this shot from the kitchenette window.
Then Carer Christopher came. His first shift back at work. Medications were given, and we had a quick chinwag-waffling session. Then, off Chris trotted.
Two sunset photos were taken as I went to check that I’d not left the oven on high and the hot water tap running, too. Tsk! Nitwit! I assembled the needs to cook the beef in gravy and make oven-cube roast potatoes. I’d accrued a bit of enthusiasm for this meal-making
Everything is in place; I got the oven warming up for the potatoes. Carer Chris arrived.
His last call of the day.
I told him of my losing the thousands of photos from the computer. And that I was struggling to get some more taken to replace them.
Chris took some snaps of me on the computer without me realising while he was making up the medications. I found them on the camera after he’d gone. Bless him. Here’s one of them. I must have been in mid-moan status as I appeared to be grumbling over something on the computer screen. Another cock-up?
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The cook-in-the-bag beef and gravy that looked so fatty would be cooked in the microwave oven. It takes five minutes, but I found the nouse to use the necklace timer as I put the potatoes in the preheated oven. I knew that they would take around 40 minutes, so I set the timer on my neck for 30 minutes, and then I got the meat in the microwave.
The chunks of fat in the bag merged with the gravy, and it tasted okay to yours truly!
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TTFNski, Each!
Irenologist Inchy: Wednesday 22nd May 2024
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The urine looks a decent colour. Carer Sam thought it was number 3 on the NHS scale.
I started the ablutions. I cut shaving cream, cut gums while cleaning my teeth, and stubbed my toe against the support bar. These were not unusual incidents; they were everyday incidents. Hehehe!
The ankle ulcer looked likely to erupt again. But blessedly, the Left and 
were rare today, as indeed they were last night in bed, only had three.
I noticed that the finger’s mystery blue patches were back again. They don’t hurt, and it’s not often I can say that about my ailments, especially the catheter tube giving Little Inchy so much stick!
The cut lip from yesterday’s 
was scabbing up already. I could see it later on, and the blood flowed.
I opened the window to take this shot but got wet in the rain.
I closed it and took this shot as the rain suddenly got a lot heavier. I’d like to point out that I didn’t trap my finger! I’d turned off the flash, so I think the flash on the photo must have been from the reflection of the lightbulb.
Sorted the waste bins into one bag.
The end car park mudslide was building up.
I got on with updating yesterday’s blog. But for some unknown reason, the damned 
tube was so painful this morning. And it felt again, just like yesterday, that I thought I was getting a backflow? Still, it’s only pain. Luckily, I have an incredible pain tolerance level and am a brave, heroic sort of chap, you know. 
It made concentration difficult, and, of course, many mistakes were made and corrected. I expect I missed many.
Carer Shaquille called. Medicated me, put the diabetic socks on for me, and the light build blew! He heard it crack!
I got the spare out of the cabinet, and he offered to swap the bulbs. He’s a tall lad who could reach up easily enough.
It took him ages, as the bayonet in the socket had a bit of plastic broken off, making it difficult to fit it in, but he did it. The replacement bulb had a clear glass. Boy, it’s got a bright light; neither of us could believe it.
Thank you, Shaquille! Saved the day!
I tried to concentrate on the blog as best as I could. Cock-up, following a mistake, quickly followed by another error.
Carer Sam arrived. I was telling her about the problem and pain with the Catheter. (Which, incidentally, eased off a lot of hours later.) However, the 
pains started almost the second Little Inchie got some respite.
It’s being so lucky that keeps me going, you know. 
Still raining!
I think this was an unintentional snap that I took. I’m not sure what I Kodak-Tim’d.
The flow of urine increased. It suddenly became less frequent that I had to empty the pouch. And I was busy blogging (or making mistakes), so I wasn’t drinking anywhere near the usual spring water intake. But what I was passing was gin clear with none of the fluffy bits in it. I was baffled and in pain at the same time. After about an hour, the flow restarted.
Then the pain lessened, still there, but far less severe.
I thought, what’s going on here?
Carer Israel arrived as I was emptying the pouch into the jug.
He pointed out that the fluffy bits were back again! Embarrassingly, he looked at the tube entry point and noticed that light brown gunk around the plastic tube had also returned. He wanted to ring the Doctor for me. But the pain was easier to cope with. (Of course, it got worse later. Tsk!)
It’s still raining!
Took this shot later. Came out fairly well.
Apart from the blotchy smudges, of course.
I noticed this advertisement when looking for local snippets earlier in the day.
It reminded me of my cyber buddy, Tim Price in New Mexico. He’s a clever photographer and naturist, amongst other qualities. He lives near a bosque, and his photographs of the local Owls are just great. Here’s one in particular that I think should be in a nature or art gallery.
Brilliant!
I’d loved to have gone on a visit to see the baby owls.
This is the early morning shot of the mudslide.
This one is how it looks now! Wet!
I think the rain is easing off.
Ten minutes later – Yes, at last!
A late call from Carer Israel is due anytime now.
Then it’s food, then Kip for me!
Israel arrived. My socks were taken off, medication was given, and he checked the Catheter for me. Gunk still leaking from the tube at the insertion point. Tsk!
Food attended to.
How did you do?
Well, that should have been easy enough.
Even I got two of them. Hehe!
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TTFNski, Anyone want to adopt me? Hehehe!
Inchy: Mon 11 Dec 23 Including Inchy’s Psychologically Cerebral Ode to the Moon!
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03:00hrs: Burst into semi-imitation life.
Nocturnal urine is a better colour.
Eurgh!
Itchy ankles and legs. Multi-coloured?
Used the new razors… well, I say new; I bought them years ago and lost them. But the Social Lady and District Nurse found them when cramming the stuff in the spare room when making space for the bed. Haha!
Not a single cut! 
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Well, had to go again…
Haemorrhoid swabs were medicated in the sink.
Kitchen first, first one not so good…
Ah, much betterer!
I decided to house up the spuds before the get more growth on them. Last of the Leicester Red Cheese, and later on, to make cheesy baked potatoes. Well, I do love them. They’ll be the last for a while.
The sun tried suddenly to get through the gaps in the clouds, beautiful!
Not sure why I took another shot?
A later snap.
Sunsetting.
Closer shot…
Ah, I missed the stand… Tsk!
Up to date, the failures of the Oligarchs are only…
Another improvement?
A lot of time was spent preparing the cheesy potatoes. But no Accifauxpas this time… well, KI did drop a jar of seasoning, but it missed my toes and didn’t break, so I thought it was worth mentioning… although I have mentioned it now… What day is it?
The Cheesy Potato Feast!
I’d just sat down to eat it, and Carer Atere arrived a little earlier than usual. This took the edge off of my enjoying the meal, but having a chin-wag made up for it.
My ankle, leg straps and diabetic socks were removed after giving me the medications. Nice, lad.
Sleep came easily enough, but the bugger didn’t last long. 
made sure of that!
TTFNski
Inchy: Sat 9th Dec 23 Bladder and Mobility Problems
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04:00hrs: 300ml of urine this morning.
But look at the colour of it!
I got on with the blogging straight away…
Well, with a few interruptions from Liberty-Global.
After about three hours of not getting very far other than redoing things that Liberty-Global had lost for me with their going down so often. I gave up on the hopes that the 
internet may become more stable.
There is more chance of me winning the lottery, and I don’t even buy any tickets!
Grunglenuts!
I decided to unpack the laundry from last night that was returned to the flat. Too tired to do it last night.
This is how the damp, even wet, some of the thicker items came out of the laundry bag.
So, I needed to get both of the electric airers on the go to dry the things off.
Got the diabetic socks on the towel airer in the hallway.
And the throw for the bed on the flat airer.
The socks kept slipping off of the bars.
Better check on them later.
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Back on the computer, and took this terrible shot of my reflection in the balcony window. Haha!
The socks were falling off again, so I moved the dressing gown onto the stand-up machine, and the socks to the flat, bent & twisted one.
This was when I noticed an odd sock among them.
I had a search around but couldn’t find it.
Moved the quilt onto the stand-up airer.
Folded the seven diabetic socks.
And went to make a brew of Glengettie.
Then, as the rain was falling in torrents, I went out onto the balcony to take some photos of the views.
All through the glass of, course.
Wet or what?
Yes, wet!
The left side was even worse.
The right end shot of the end car park came out alright, the wind was carrying the rain, and the mud-slide was developing rather quickly.
Back on the computer, Carer Cochi came. She coped with the fitting of the Diabetic socks, and the ankle and leg straps. We had a bit of fun with that. Dealt out the medications and managed a little laugh.
As I drank the drink, the tummy really hurt for a few moments then died down?
Because the pouch seemed to fill up so quickly. although the colour was the healthiest it has ever been; I’d say a two on the NHS Urine Richter Scale.
300ml, from half a mug of Glengettie?
After about ten minutes, the pain returned in the stomach. Well, fancy that…
The day pouch had filled in no time??? After emptying the bag again, no joking, in five minutes, there were 200ml of good-coloured urine back in the pouch!
Oh, here’s the future man with his torch!
The sun was struggling up from the left. The rain had stopped, and I tried to get a decent photo of the planet.
Somehow, it looks as if it is nighttime? I’m not sure what I did wrong here.
I put some prepared parmesan potatoes in the tray, 
ready for cooking later on. I threw away the butter pat with the garlic in it and shaved some of the fantastic-tasting no-butter butter on the potatoes instead, with a splash of sea salt and vinegar.
I felt the pouch pulling again, and Little Inchies
blood trickling down my leg.
I’ll have to keep checking the bag for the rest of the day and night. It’s coming out in torrents?
Aches and pains got worse, all due to the bladder and this cold, caught, I think. Closed down the computer early, and got a nosh made. Parmentier potatoes and pies. It was not good!.
I overcooked the pies, and the crusts were like shoe leather, only tougher. I actually bent the knife when I first tried to cut one! The tatters were okay.
Flavour Rating: 5/10.
Took these shots when washing up the pots.
I accidentally had the flash on when I snapped this one. The rain was back again.
This one came out lighter without the flash.
Got down really early in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibblings, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly-grotty, no longer working, dirty beige recliner, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300, ten years ago from the charity shop, I was not feeling very well at all. Poor thing, Hehehe!
I checked the pouch, it now abruptly, stopped filling, and the stomach pains started again! The coughing didn’t help. Each time I coughed, I got pains from the innards, stomach/bladder, and the already bleeding Little Inchy’s fungal lesion. I tried to drink more water to encourage the bladder to work, but with only having the day bag on yet, and, I felt sure I’d nod off, not wanting the pouch to fill to capacity while asleep… I think I decided to wait until the Carer arrived and put the bigger night bag on for me.
I fell asleep, and am not sure which carer came to this last call. But he took off the ankle and leg strappings and attached the night bag for me. This may have been Carer Atere’s attention in attendance, methinks. He may have said he’d checked the cooker and taps, I think. But left the lights on in the main room and hallway.
So, after a while, when I realised this was why I couldn’t get back to sleep… it may take me a while, but I got it eventually, Hehehe! So, I struggled half asleep, out of the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, wincingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner, carrying the 
by the lengthy tube, and fumbling along with precious 
, I had to get up to turn off the lights. Not easy getting back to the recliner in the dark, but I avoided any toe stubbings. Got settled back down, and the coughing kicked in again:
🎼 Your foot bone connected to your heel boneYour heel bone connected to your ankle boneYour ankle bone is connected to your leg bone.Your leg bone connected to your knee boneYour knee bone connected to your thigh boneYour hip bone connected to your backbone
Your back bone connected to your shoulder boneYour shoulder bone connected to your neck boneYour neckbone is connected to your head-boneYour thigh bone is connected to your hip bone…🎼
That ditty was my way of saying that standing up and pain & bleeding exited from Little Inchie’s fungal lesion as the tube pulled at him. Cartilage Choe gave way on the little journey, the eyes made it hard to get back to the recliner, sitting down again, and Haemorrhoid Harold hurt and bled as I plonked down a mite hard on my rear end. Then as I got as comfortable as I was going to get, Coughing Claire kicked off, which affected all the aforementioned ailments, plus, the throat, Back Pain Brenda, the leg papules, the chest, the ears popped, the glasses fell off, I knocked the TV remote control… tried to retrieve it, and knocked over a bottle of spring water! It instilled a thought in my mind. I must ask each evening carer to turn off the lights for me on leaving.
May Peace and Contentment Engulf you!