Inchie: Wed 22nd April 2026

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Tomorrow’s disastrous afternoon left me with 5 hours with a leaking fungal lesion, urine-covered, swollen feet, wet carpet, Kaghoule, pants, waiting for the nurse to arrive and save the day. And she did, bless her. New Catheter Contraption fitted with minimal pain. 🙏🏻🌸🧡 So, I couldn’t make a start on
this until 17:30hrs. Have I got you guessing what the Whoopsiedangleplop was?
Without Jenny, I’d be even more lost.
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Order arrived…
With Catheter,
Morning mini-puffer
cloud pictures.
The Catheter went potty today. By At 
13:00hrs, it had filled the day bag
15 times. The afternoon?
Just three.
All a part of the mysteries and bad
luck inhabiting of Woodthorpe Court,
with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai,
phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae,
extraterrestrials, spirits, ectoplasms,
Receptive Aphasia, Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia,  Episodic and ataxia, Ménière’s
disease, Fractured Knee Frank, and
Dark, Deep, Dark, Depressing Darius. With
Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying,
Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, the damned seizures, or Fata Morganas sent to taunt, irk,
terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality… on the brink.

Mystery photo taken. Hehe!

Looking towards the City and,
The Doctor’s surgery that we were
just arriving at Sherrington Park.
A Carer originally told me that an appointment had been made for me to have the swollen legs investigated.
At Elmswood Gardens Health Centre.
Then it changed to the Doctor in Carrington.
The Carers arranged a lift there, and we got two buses back to Sherwood and up Winchester Street Hill and to the flat. 
In the Doctors
We were dropped off in the car park by another Carer.
Very kind of them and he. Carer entered with me, and we used the electric machine to sign in. But, it wasn’t having it. The receptionist logged us in. Carer jeard my name being called, and I made my way to Dr Vindla’s room… Then we realised the appointment was not with the Doctor, but with the nurse, so we went to her room.
The nurse checked out the swollen legs, feet, and toes. At this point, the Doctor, in her going-home clothes, came in. She will electronically send a prescription for some Furosemide. To counter the retained waters. Explaining that it is a risky balance, putting me back on them. They may reduce water intake, but can often increase cholesterol levels. Two weeks’ supply, then we’ll see how things are.
Then to the bus stop. The lightning Carer left me in his wake. Luckily, I didn’t have a seizure or tumble.

Caught a bus in Sherwood, the Care shooting off way in front again. Well, he’s worried about being late.
He suggested I pay for a taxi next time. I can’t believe he forgot about my knees.

Now I have a bigger stock of Spring Water

All tired up, first, and the second delivery.
Soda water
2-litre Spring.

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Inchy: Wednesday 30th October 2024

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I don’t want anyone to think I’m jealous of their wealth & power. Or that could gladly assassinate the pensioner-killer Starmer for his heartless crippling and murdering pensioners by taking away their winter fuel allowance. Or his lying by omission to get elected. Or, his taking back-handers worth hundreds of thousands of pounds. His bland, conceited, self-wealth improving, voter-contempt, but I am.
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After yet another night of jumping awake, at 05:00, I gave up trying for the elusive sleep, and I gingerly removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, grabbed a hold of and off to the kitchen for safety checks and got the kettle on. The taps, cooker and fridge looked okay, and I had what must have been one of the longest-ever bubbly-sounding passings of wind that I can ever remember. It was pongy and two-tone at times! I diverted to the wet room without any delay.
I got seated, but nothing more than wind came out for ages. Once the motion began, I thought that would never end!
It was like wet mud to look at in the bowl. This time, it was three-coloured: black spots with light and dark brown.

Cleaning it up took me years. I managed to knock over, and he fell against the floor cabinet. I then had one less bottle of the Glaucoma Latanoprost eye drops; the cap shot off.

MAYHEM – POWER CUTS
At this stage of writing this, I had a power cut! I lost all my notes and reminders, but I did get some photos, and such mayhem and panic have not hit me so badly in ages.
I was stuck in total darkness; it was late evening then.
The notes from earlier in the day were found, but not the late ones that were on Word, which got lost in a total of four Poer-Cuts suffered over a three-hour period.
Obviously, I could not do any blogging or emailing anything on the computer until Thursday morning. (Now)

POWER-CUT DISASTER STORIES
1️⃣ I was cooking the meal. Sudden darkness, absolute darkness. Panic gripped me. I searched for the mobile and wind-up torch. At that time, I could not find the torch. So, had to use the light of the mobile to get around. My intention was to make sure the cooker had been turned off. Then I realised that things were worse than I thought. The battery on the mobile was weakening, and I needed it to call for help because the Alarm Alert line & landlines were not working. I rang the preciously kind Jenny to ask for advice on getting help. I didn’t know the numbers to ring. Jenny, being Jenny, bless her, said she would come up to have a look. She’d just got out of the shower. I felt embarrassed. 

2️⃣ Jenny came in; I didn’t hear her, and she did something on the power box, and the power came back on. I told her what I was doing, and she spoke with someone on the back-on-line emergency alert line again. She turned off the cooker at the box. Told me not to use it until it’s been checked over. She
said, ‘I’m was to ring her in ten minutes to update her on the situation’. I’d be lost without Jenny. 

3️⃣ Ten minutes later, the power went off again. This time, I was again in the kitchen, and as it was dark, I turned to get the stick, tripped on something, and fell, hitting my face on the radiator. Jenny returned again. She reset the power and asked if I’d used the cooker, which I hadn’t. The power was now restored by Jenny, and the telephones & alarm came back on. Jenny spoke with them again. Jenny reminded me not to use the cooker, but I could use the microwave. 

4️⃣ I started to sort out a different meal that could be cooked in the microwave, and the Power died again! Jenny came to the rescue once more! She restored the power supply yet again and told me she would report things to the authorities for me in the morning. If it does go off again, I was to ring her. Reminding me not to use the kettle or cooker.

Thankfully, the power stayed on, and I finished the oddly cooked beef in black bean sauce. Cleaned up the kitchen and settled to eat the meal, watching ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. Thinking about how things would have gone without Jenny’s help. Precious, inestimable, & helpful. ♥

The following may be out of order, with part of the reminders lost in the power cuts, but these things did occur. I think.

Carers Shaquille, Israel & Kimberly called. Kimberly helped me get an appointment with the doctor and the Chemist for the flu jab sorted for me. Flu Tuesday 5th Nov, and the RSC at the surgery Monday 11th Nov, in Carrington.

Yesterday, during the power failures, I lost every photograph I had previously taken and saved to file. Arghh!


Shortest blog ever on file!
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THE STATE OF INCHY

And also, I can’t use my cooker or kettle,
I still can’t manually pittle,
Electric shocks up my leg, still tingle,
The catheter tube is so painful!
My lack of sleep is diabolical,
My memory gets more fragmental,
Waiting for Glaucoma lasering at the Hospital,
Life is no longer worth being experimental,
The hot tap runs at barely a trickle,
Plans, wants & needs are theoretical,
Thoughts, hopes are unphilosophical,
Like this ode, there are unpoetical,
I’m verging on becoming pathetical,
My dreams are all sarcophagal,
Getting on my rear-end a carbuncle!
My concentration, once congenital,
It is now non-existent, gone, choplogical,
Depressions, fears, worries, self-inimical,
Mentally, life is a scramble, a scrattle…
With myself, every day, I battle,
I once socialised, now I feel extrinsical.
Life’s become eristical & demagogical!
Now, with cock-up, & outages electrical,
No kettle or stove, it ruins things gastronomical,
I need someone clever, kind, & intellectual…
A Doctor who deals with things lunatical?
To read this Poesy or Limerick,
About me being physically & mentally sick,
Use their skills of the neuropsychologic,
They may advise summat neuroradiologic?
Issue medications that may do the trick,
With mayhap periwinkle & phenobarbital,
Or operate on my sincipital?
If it was all a film, it would be tragicomical,
But, primarily pointless and illogical!.
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TTFNski!

Inarticulacy Inchy: Thursday 10th October 2024

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Inchy is sad today…

I’m struggling to add memory to this computer. I’ve now tried four companies to get help; one has not replied, two have been negative, and one, The Computer Man, has said, “Please be patient.” That was a month ago. Huh! Getting photos and graphics on is sometimes impossible, like this morning. I’m using Ccleaner twice a day, and it still allows fewer files to be saved, so WordPress cannot load them. I’m getting depressed daily more than ever. Add the problems health-wise, mental and physical: not being able to get out to the doctor. The stupid things I’m getting up to, like forgetting what I am talking about mid-sentence, leaving the tap running, burning food I forget about, not forgetting the tumbles, walking into things and the falls. Not being able to contact my bank.
The Social lady I was referred to does not seem to understand my problems. But maybe my stuttering and frequent miscommunications are causing a misunderstanding. I have so many issues left to stew and rot, with no solutions or even acceptance of what I need help with. I’m finding it more challenging to concentrate. T
oday, it took me 3 hours to get the computer to save the first CorelDraw graphic to a file. I have no idea how I did it. The freeing of space never lasts long. I’ll have to stop bothering with so many graphics & photos. I love doing them.

Carer Christopher’s wife Omotola and son Gideon took me some pictures at the Goose Fair with my camera. That was lovely. Chris returned the camera this morning – but will I get them to go on WordPress? Depression Duncan is Deep Routed today, as you can see.
Even the Odes are not so easy to create. I don’t know why, but they have flowed easily until today.
Enough of my moaning. I am fed up with my moaning! But I feel the compunction via frustration of going on and on feeling sorry for myself. What a Whimp!

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I gave up trying to sleep again, got up around 04:00 hrs, took off the catheter night bag, and did my ablutions. This is proof of how sad I’ve become; it was much later that I realised I’d not had a shave! And by then, with the problems coming to the forefront, I thought, ‘Sod it and didn’t have a shave at all!

I put on fresh attire, PPs and dressing gown, and went to the kitchen, and put the kettle on. I took these two not-very-good shots of the early morning views. Made a brew of Glengettie, I was feeling so low, it didn’t bother me about keeping to the rules of only 2 mugs of tea being permitted. I must have had six minimum!
Then, a rumble and grumble from the innards advised me that I needed to visit the . So, I did!
He was still in charge. Four large Kharki-coloured rugby-ball-shaped lumps were painfully and slowly evacuated, but it was nowhere near as hurtful as yesterday’s effort.

Carer Christopher arrived, I think, for his first shift this week. He’s brought the Kodak Tim camera back with him. His wife, Omatola, and son, Gideon, had taken photos of Goose Fair for me on their visit. I shall try to get them onto WordPress, but I doubt if the computer will allow me to do so. So, it will be a shorter blog until I can get the HP rememoried. Grammarmly didn’t like rememoried?

I’ll try to get the fair photos on the computer now.
I got the blog done. It was slow work, though, as the computer’s memory was short. 

Carer Shaquille arrived. Just one Codiene taken.

Good God, I’ve just got over a seizure and dizzy spell, I think, at the same time. The acidy taste almost shoots up into the mouth, and Dizzy Dennis visits seconds later.
Everything has to stop, and I sit as calmly as possible until the session ends. How horrible these are! It took a lot longer than it usually does.
I’m not feeling too good at all now.

What next?

Sod-it & Clapmongers!
The low-memory messages have appeared again.

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TTFN
 

Incontinent Inchy: Monday 22nd July 2024

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Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic!
The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!

I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut.
I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!

I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me.
As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what?  I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.

Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via  .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. 
I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out.
! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.

Between , supported by   it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.

Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this.  Frustration Frank visited.

Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.

Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!

If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven.
I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.

But the odds are it’ll be me!

Gorgeous clouds.

Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning.  I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a  or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well! 

I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.

Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it.
Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
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Cheers!

Ideologogist Inchy: Thursday 23rd May 2024

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I certainly Can’t
BLOOD PRESSURE PEAKING
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Terribly dark!
I broke the plastic drainer tube off of the Day Catheter, getting the night pouch off! Hobbled to the wet room initially to empty the pouch. Which had to wait as I almost tore the PPs in haste to get sat on the Porcelain before the flow started flowing, and boy, it came and came!

The legs looked a little worse for wear. The ankles in particular. 
Not sure if you can see it, but the right leg swelling was growing again. The day pouch bag is due to be changed today.

I thought the red eye was looking better. But later, when Carer Christopher arrived, he said it was a lot worse.
Can’t win ’em all. Hehe!
As Chris was putting the diabetic socks on my legs, the light went out. No matter what we tried, it would not work. We assumed that the plastic bayonet had broken. I asked Chris to inform the Wardens for me, which he said he would.
I hope they can get someone to sort it out before it gets dark. Walking, well, hobbling around with a loose catheter bag, cartilages that might give at any time, or worse still, the walking stick and cooking to get done as well. Then there’s a chance I could trip over something, but the Cataract can’t. Well, they won’t be done again until the Glaucoma lasering has been done, but that’s doubtful at my age. Then a real risk of a 
kicking off! The double vision doesn’t help either. I’m talking myself into a depression here, ain’t I? Hahaha!
I collated the various waste fabs into one and placed it near the front door, ready for collection later on in the day.
I took a photo of the trees and felt so sorry for the birds. It was howling out there. I bet a few nest chicks and eggs got smashed, then I spotted…
Police officers in the Woodthorpe Park bottom field.
In the second photo, I caught two officers chasing something or one to the left end, rear of Muggers Alley. Blotches on the lens again! Humph!
I went to the other room to answer the mobile phone that was ringing. It was a lady from the Nottingham Council Social Prescribing Team, but I had to ask her to ring back on the landline, which she did pleasantly. I have to get a Carer to read through it to find out what it is all about. Just my luck, Carer Carer has just gone on a fortnight’s holiday! (Vacation)
So, I’ll see who comes. She wants me to read it and ring her back. This does not bode well, but it does because it’s lovely that someone cares enough to help. It’s me who gets things mixed up, forgets things, and, at times, panics a smidge about anything official. Silly old fool.
Like with MS, CorelDraw, and WordPress, it sometimes does not put the right photos on, and I only find out when I do a preview. I found I have to rename them all the time. What’s the bloody hell is going on here? Is it Google or WordPress wrong? Or thick-me?
Oh, I do miss helpful Kara!

I got carried away there, back to the police presence…
Police appeared coming down the hill of foot, a police van and two more cars arrived.
Innit annoying when you don’t know what going on?
Mind you, that’s standard procedure for me.

I took a snap of the mudslide that had gone down a lot. The wind helped, I think.
Talking of the wind, I had a little escape from the rear end, and ASAP, I fumbled my way back to the wet room.

Warden & Desktop Dancer Julie came in. Carer Christopher had told her about the light bulb problem. She came up to make an assessment. Hopefully, she can get some help today for me, but if not… 

When I was just a little boy
I asked my mother, what will I be
Will I be pretty? Will I be rich?
Here’s what she said to me
Qué será, será…

Now piss-off!

The clouds gathering high in the already dank sky, seemingly getting lower, oh my, oh my…
I don’t know why I said that?
This often happens!

Ah, 168, that was obvious…

 

 

 

 

Better get summat to eat then. Sausages & Spaghetti?
Spaghetti with Mediterranean tomatoes and vegetables, small vegan sausages, Milk Roll sliced bread, and a small pot of orange jelly. I settled to eat it and took this photo on the left. Then I realised I’d still got some large vegan sausages in the oven that I forgot to add to the meal. So I retrieved them and added them to the feast in the bowl on the tray. That’s more like it! Hehehe! T’was not as good as I thought it would be.

TTFN.

Inchy: Friday 29th December 2023

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04:05hrs: I woke up, bursting into singing, badly out aloud; Oh, What a Beautiful Morning
Oh, all right then...
I realised I needed a good shave and wash when I sniffed my torso as I got up to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. Hehe!.
The urine was a little dark again.
I was hobbling a smidge dodgily. I went into the kitchen, with the usual fear coming on that I’d find the hot tap or stove had been left on, but all was clear. As I took a photo of the high-in-the-sky moon.
I made a right mess of that one. Tried again…
This one was not a lot better.

Getting the diabetic socks off was not easy, and twice, I nearly took a tumble trying to get back upright after each sock was clawed off the legs. It had to happen, of course, as I tripped on the leg quilt that I had taken off. Somewhat painfully, although I didn’t hit the deck, managing to lean toward 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, which broke my fall. 

. This displays my stupidity, as I was about to go to the wet room to have a stand-up wash and shave, thus washing off the Germolene in the process. Humph!

Off to the wet room. First things first…
Yellowy, runny, stinky!
Above all, it was messy!

I’d got the larger Morrisons PPs on and set about removing them along with the dried blood from , after he’d been tugged at by the . The crusted haemoglobin broke, and red flowed down my leg onto the floor. I had to clean it up before starting shaving, in case I slipped on it. That’s two close calls this morning. At the back of my mind, I knew a third was due.
A good job. I rose early again. But had to rush things a little in case the Carer called early.

Got the floor cleaned and started to get the shaving done. Things went well today. Just one teeny-weeny nick on the ear hole. But not for long...
Putting the razors away and dropping them both it was a deja vu again! I hit my forehead on the edge of the sink, and noticed, somehow, I’d missed it earlier when shaving, but the red-eye was back again. 
Well, that was the third out of the way.

Dressing gown back on; it was a little cold without the strappings and socks on. But not for long…
Ten minutes later, arrived. She Germolened the right leg for me first off.
Then got the diabetic sock on for me, and we got the leg straps on between us. She did a good job of them. Then she issued the medications for me.
She’s spent a little longer with me than usual due to the extra fittings needed, and she had to rush off. Bless her. Did a good job all around.

I was on the blogging, and doing well, I thought.
Suddenly it was three hours later, and called on me. I was in a bit of a state of losing the memory of what I’d been doing for so long, and I mentioned the FND symptoms, of which memory loss is included, and she listened to me, which was nice. She took the laundry down with her for me.

After she’d departed, I made a brew of Glengettie.

Then returned to the computer to see what I’d been doing for hours. I came across a cloud photo that I must have taken earlier too.
This inspired me to take a look at the end car park mudslide, and I took this.
The pool had shrunken a little.

The leggings had not slipped. Mariam had done a good job on them this morning.

I made another mug of tea, and to my surprise, turned up. Where had the time gone? I was not concentrating at all.

No rush, I related the FND findings, but each time I looked at him he was on his mobile phone. Hehe! Nothing unusual with that. I was getting things off my chest to anyone who’d listen today. Even those who didn’t listen. Hahaha!

It is not advisable to think that because things like & have occurred three times in a day, and you have prevailed, it does not mean the fourth will not be the start of the next three. If you get my grift? I decided to get the oven heating up for the sausage and roast potatoes to be cooked for the daily meal later on.

I dropped the tray of potatoes, oh Woe…
The dish landed on my ingrowing toenail toe, 
Slipped, retrieving each potato…
On the oven, I banged my elbow,
Got them in the oven, on the wrong regulo,
And I’ve lost my remaining libido! 
Hehehe!

Do not be idle like wot I was, and buy any Asda prepared frozen roasting potatoes for any meal.
You will not like them unless you like the flavour of mushy-crushed cardboard. I imagine if anyone ate them, they would end up with tummy aches, as wot I did. And I only ate four of them before dishing the others in the waste bin, post haste.
Although Not Glorious This Time!

Washing the pots, and the view on offer from the kitchenette widow, although a little dull with the clouds, was still Bootiful!
Then a closer Kodak Tim shot was taken.
A charm in this one?

CHEERS!

Inchy: Sun 15 Oct 23 – Worra Day!

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A day of vagueness, the brain full of wanderlust.
After staying up until the early hours of the morning hours to try and make some progress on blogging. I didn’t get up until the Carer woke me.
The ablutionalisationings took me well over two hours, and I could not shower either, or even wash the usual one foot now, with the new strapping over the compression sock, and on the masses of compression bandages on top of the woolly wrapping, I’m beginning to smell I think?
The day buzzed by, and no blogging was done at all.
And I nearly had a tumble and fall.
So forgive this catch-up for being small…
It’s Monday night now, as I type and scrawl,
Will I get any sleep at all?
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Straps and diabetic socks on the left…
both legs…
& ,
in both…
crippling .

Views from the balcony.
The Tree Copse, can no longer visit, sadly.
The mud-slide dwindling.
Straight ahead. Gloom!

But in the afternoon…
The cloudless sky did look wonderful.

Evening Nosh Preperationing…
Sorting out the dodgy Asda potatoes.
Then I cheered exponentially
(Is that the right word?).
Yes, I looked it up!
Flavour Rating: 7/10 – Decent nosh.

I felt I was just about to nod off, and a mob of,
happy-go-lucky, pot-smoking yobboes in the
bottom field got the Reggae music going.
Bless them!

TTFN Sorry it’s so late & short

Inchy: Tuesday 22nd August 2023

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What a Start This Morning!
The Go-Wrongables went wrong again!

It all started the moment I woke up, with agony from the gonads area. Due to the movement of the long night pouch tube that was attached to much unwanted, I must have chaffed away at the gonads as ‘things’ moved for the first time in months! I’ll not go into too much detail, but the dreaming involved things of an amorous nature, with a bit of physical passion thrown in! As I began to launch myself from the depths of the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, I believed a glance at the wall clock, that fell off of the wall and now resides next to the squeaky Margaret Thatcher toy, on top of the electric fire, that I can’t afford to use with the cost of electricity; and panicked a little when I saw (Wrongly as it happens) that the clock showed it to be about ten past seven. And the food delivery is coming twixt 07:00 > and 08:00! In my haste to get up, the tube caught on the new air cushion that was delivered for me yesterday. No messing about with jokes at this stage… It was horrendously painful, and I felt sure the blood flowed much more than usual this morning!
I fumblingly got the night pouch off ASAP and grabbed for my , and off to the wet room to check on the state of my inguen department in the lower regions. en route against the door frame. But did not stop, went in and peeled off the bloodied protection pants, and went into an investigative mode to assess the damage. Not much Germolene left; I used most of it on Little Inchies. Then realised I had even less left of the Germoloid ointment! But remembered my taking brave choice, to order a tube of each on today’s Morrison order, and dang, the cost! Taking the wristwatch off, I spotted the real-time! 03:30hrs. All that rushing and pain for nothing.
Got the computer on to update yesterday’s blog. The time flew, but I took a break for a brew of Glengettie and the two last biscuits from the jar. No, I didn’t cry! But it was a close call. Hehe! I’d ordered some on the Morrison order, which cheered me up.
Little did I know what wasn’t being delivered and substituted, or I may have cried then!
MORRISON MUCK-UP!
The driver was kind enough to put the products into carriers I had saved and took them into the hallway for me. Kind of him; many tip the food out of their trays onto the kitchen floor or in the doorway. Thanks, mate, I appreciated that. I set about emptying the carriers and photographing the various foods, thinking of little witty things to say on the blog
. I must have taken about eight decent photographs, starting with the line of carriers in the hallway. Freezer, fridge, and cupboard goods.
Then, as I was putting the things away… I realised how many had been substituted or were not available. Tsk!
No Germolene or Germoloid! ‘Sudcrem’ had been substituted. The two vegetable risotto meals had been swapped for, of all things, Vegetable Lasagne, Horrible stuff! But I didn’t notice it soon enough to send it back. Or I would have. Urrgh! Kara is a vegan; I’ll see if she will have them on her next call
. The two Morrisons Acute Diarrhoea Relief Caps (Cost £1.20 each) were substituted with one Morrisons Diarrhoea Relief Instant Tablets. £6! Then, Pukka Cheese Leek & Potato Slices, £1.20, were replaced with Ginsters Cheddar & Onion Slices @ £1.48! Suddenly I remembered why I’d stopped using Morrisons delivery service – too late now. Gits! Can all these things keep happening to me every day? Well, yes!

When Carer Kara arrived, the bleeding from the private quarters had stopped, but not the pains. Tsk! Still no Ramipril Tablets, hence the high Blood Pressure readings for today. Kara checked the day pouch, due to be replaced on Wednesday. She kindly said she’d ring the Doctors or chemist about the tablet situation for me. Fingers crossed! It seems that all medications are in short supply at the moment.

I got around to putting the pictures taken onto the computer, my lovingly, carefully, time-consumingly taken shots throughout the late morning. But not one was on the SD card!
The SD card I’d left in the computer reader slot – AGAIN!
, I swore, cursed and lambasted myself as I ground my teeth and wanted to hit myself in the face! What else is going to go wrong? Don’t answer that, please!

Carer Kara arrived. I forced her to take the unwanted Vegetable Lasagne ready meals. It’s that white sauce on the that I don’t like. And I adore the Vegetable Risotto, but the last two times, they have substituted lasagne. Grrr!

Well, there’s no time to make a meal now. I’ve got to get the ablutions tended to… I’ve not started the photos yet; I better get them done first. Then, as instructed, I had to use the chair in the shower, fair enough.

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Please let my luck get betterer?
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The night bag colour is looking good.
Plenty of it for once, 500 ml!

A rainy morning close to the glass shot.
A wider view…
But neither was very good. Tsk!

Rubbish bags sorted out.

Popped into the spare room; I did a bit of sorting, but not much.
More waste bags to go.

Titivated the nurses, carers, and helpers nibbles.

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Computer issues bamboozled me.

Water Chestnuts Pickled!
After getting them into the jar, Kara told me they needed 4 days in the fridge. As instructed, I shook the seasoning in the tub.
Sorry, I did now. The lid wasn’t waterproof; vinegar went all over me and the floor to clean up. Fancy that!

The Morrison Farce Arrived.
All those lost photos, I took a few more, too late, of course.
Fridge close up. Leicester cheese to go in the potatoes later… well, that’s the plan, anyway.
Fridge full view.
Terribly bad freezer shot…
But the bananas came out alright.
I’ve eaten two during the day.

Balcony photo of the end car park.

Low puffer clouds, Bootiful!.
A Higher in the Sky view.

What were these two supposed to beat me?
Although this one could be my finger?
Better get on with the ablutions… Oh no…
It’s too late… no, I’ll get them done.
Back later.
He says, full of hope!

I’m back, but much later than planned. Tuesday morning.
I’d . Woke and went to check on the cooking and spotted the part moon high in the sky. I took these poor efforts for  photographicalisations
Got the wobbles, methinks?

Turned on the TV & .
The clouds had taken over the view.

I took these from the kitchenette window.
I forgot to check on the cooking. Tsk!

Gorgeous!
What a remarkable change to the scene!
Bootiful!

Got the meal served up. Instant mash with Leicester cheese and sea salt added! Vegan sausages, chestnuts, red & yellow tomatoes, salted, and mushrooms were over-seasoned and overcooked! And a banana. Shame! Carer Benjamin arrived as I was serving up the meal. He kindly put it into the microwave to keep it warm for me.
But I ate most of it; I just had to leave some of the mushrooms.
Flavour-Rating: 8.1/10! Got the pots washed and…

Slept for a couple of hours before the usual jumping awake with a jolt. Which, unfortunately, tugged at the tube from deep within Little Inchie, causing to bleed a bit. (It also made me wince and curse a little, but no matter.) Off to the wet room, carrying & the , to clean and medicate things in the lower regions. Washed and got new PPs on. I forgot about the instructions to sit down to get dressed. I used Protection Pants for the first time to see how with them. They are much thinner than the others, and the actual pads seem smaller in ratio. But we were comfortable enough after the gruelling battle to get them on! Hehehe!

All medicated and cleaned up, I hobbled into the kitchenette to ensure no taps (faucets) or stove had been left on, and the fridge & freezer doors were shut!
Which was when I spotted the orange moon high in the dark sky. I decided to take a photograph of it… But it came out like this below… Artistic, methinks, even if it was not planned.
How the heck I managed to get three copies of The Moon in there is beyond me. I bet WordPress photographer, singer, songwriter, animal lover, novelist and jolly-good-fellow Tim Price in New Mexico would know!

TTFN, Each!

INCHIE: Friday 31 March 2023

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PANIC STATIONS…
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….
Brrr!

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!

Washed 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!

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