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I’d been waking up so often during the night, fretting over 
something going wrong or forgetting to take something to the meeting with the psychiatrist later on. At 0620, I decided to get up and start gathering and checking things for the trip. Not a good start…
A 
. As I climbed cautiously out of bed, my back started giving me some grief, so I got on my feet and stood up to ease the discomfort. I may have eaten something after getting into bed last night. Because I trod on a fork on the floor. Naturally, I just laughed it off.
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When I’d finished cursing, I got a heat pad stuck on my back, and pondered over things needing doing for the visit to the hospital. I thought it a good idea to put the lists Jenny had kindly checked and printed for me into the three-wheeled walker, so I wouldn’t forget later.
Stubbing my ingrown toenail on the wheel of the trolley, I again laughed it off. 
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Carer Andrew arrived; he put some cream on my back and… remembered to put my diabetic socks on. On me, I meant. Hahaha! Medications given, got on his mobile and then off he shot without any ceremony.
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Then I went to the wet room, spending the longest I have ever spent evacuating the almost-water product.
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I did what I could, but time was running out as I waited for the Carer, and luckily the nurse came earlier than planned, and she checked the leg wound, gave them the okay, and hastily got me dressed. Bless her
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Carer Ejaz arrived and rang a taxi; we were soon on our way to the Highbury hospital meeting. The driver took the wrong route and dropped us off in the wrong place. We went inside; Ejaz asked for 
directions to where we wanted to go. Then we walked to the building. Fortune shone; we got to the appointment just in time. We were taken to a room. To find a disappointing fact.
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After all the hard work Jenny had done to get a four-page list of questions to be asked; typed, printed, and put into envelopes; the lady told me she and the psychiatrist ve had a meeting and decided, after getting her report, that I had two Dementias. Mixed Dementia: Frontotemporal & Vascular Dementia, and this has now been confirmed.
All without the man or woman meeting or talking to me.
I was hoping to spread the word about my not coping, getting things done and would love to be moved into a home to finish my life without frustration.
Well, summat like that.
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She told me I would not see her again; nothing further could be done for me.
So, thus and therefore, my first ever meeting with a psychiatrist did not mature.
I’ve never seen a ghost either, ready to see the Grim Reaper after today, though. Hahahah!
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As we left, I felt guilty and sorry for Jenny. Guilt for not realising they had held their own meeting and decided my fate. And for asking Jenny for her help with the long list, which she did, thinking it would help, and it was unneeded! All that work she did!
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The taxi Ejaz ordered arrived. In the biggest BMW I’ve ever seen! It needed help from Ejaz and the driver, plus a plastic stool to stand on, to get into it. Amazingly, I looked around and asked Ejaz what all this was for in the back of the cab. There were mobile charging points, cup holders, a big shaded glass roof, and buttons to heat the seat if needed! No wonder the trip cost so much.
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We got home; Ejaz had to move on to his next client. I still felt terrible that Jenny’s work wasn’t used. The lady did ask if she could let the psychiatrist see the printout.
I agreed readily and said This is the lady that keeps me going; I’d be glad if he/she would read it.
I went into a semi-depression then, and decided to tell it how it went when I phoned Jenny. I felt bad.
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Carer Andrew arrived while I was starting to update this blog. I spoke of what had taken place for a long time. As I told him the tale, I took my eyes of the screen; he was 
on his phone. He did show signs of sympathy. He took these two shots of the skies, as he put my torch on the balcony to catch any sun to charge it up.
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Carer Ahmed, or was it Carer Imran? Well, one of them did the late call. We managed a laugh or two. A rarity.
He took off the diabetic socks, applied some heat gel to the lower back, and issued painkillers. No Peptac, because I’d not eaten yet, not even started cooking it.
He did the safety checks and asked if I knew the oven was on. I pointed out that I was going to use it after he’d departed, but could I remember what I was going to cook? No! He laughed as I said, “Well, I could blame my bad memory on having Frontotemporal & Vascular Dementia, both types of Alzheimer’s.” But seriously, this past week, my memory has got so much worse. And I swear that the arithmaphobia has, too.
The Carer had a look at the medical returns and pointed out that the urine in millimetres passed, that is, arrived at by adding up each jug emptied and dividing it by the number of jugs used. I had got both figures wrong. I’ll have to correct them on the next chart. Good of him to notice and inform me; he even worked out what they should have been. He checked the taps and suggested, after I recalled that it was the cheap end bits of bacon I was going to cook, that I stay there in the kitchen the whole time. He’s not been coming for a long time, but he’s picked up the things I get wrong quickly. I usually go into the front room and fall asleep until the fire alarm goes off and wakes me. (Not often, though!) This is part of why I miss Mirza, who hasn’t called for such a long time, and Ejaz, who calls far less often nowadays; they are both reliable lads. I am disappointed.
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I got the bacon in the oven, and sliced some tomatoes and salted them, after suxking the blood from the finger I cut. Then took this shot of the sun on its way 
down. Then got the spuds from the slow cooker and put some Teriyaki sauce on each one on the tray. Then I took this closer shot of the sunset. Nice!
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Back to the dinner making. Started by making two thick-sliced sarnie sandwiches with small-cut pickle spread on the bread. Got the spuds and tomatoes on the foil tray. (Not so much washing-up to do) Added some Sesame Soy sauce, and settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV and eat the meal.
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INCHIES TALES OF WOE
This did not, of course, go exactly to plan.
I didn’t need to say that really, did I?
As I recall it, the first thing was that I’d left my torch on the balcony. So I had to get up, go out, open the balcony door, grab the torch, close the door, come back in, and almost settle into the recliner…
When I turned on the TV, I realised that I’d still got my reading glasses on. Painfully removed my colossally moribund disabled body from the recliner, stubbing my toe as I got to the computer desk, swapped glasses, returned to the recliner…
As I settled into the least painful position so as not to set my back off again, then, at long last, I bit heartily into the first bacon sarnie… And dropped it! I’m ashamed to say, I swore and cursed. As I got out of the recliner, I used a kitchen towel to clean up the spilt pile of no butter, butter, sauce, pickle and bacon from my dressing gown, legs, feet and the poor, now dingy carpet.
Got settled again, and ate the meal and still found it satisfactory under the delayed eating process.
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Carer Ahmed
Inchie Wed 22 July: Off to the EENY for Cataract Preppimg
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Inchies Hospital Day Blog
Wednesday 22nd July 2026
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Might be short, timewise, medical limitations, and the cost of the bloody taxis might bankrupt me. “Tsk!”
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Another broken sleep pattern. I rose, jumped out of the bed, did a double somersault over 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. Popped out onto the balcony and sang a good morning yodel to the local neighbours, and did 200 naked press-ups…
All right, I know, I know. I’ll start again then.
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I woke at 05:15hrs, and stayed there, dejected, morose, and stayed in the same position, physically, but under the strain of mental turmoil and depression, for an hour or so. Thus, a normal awakening.
Again, I’d not put the night pouch on last night. It was so blown up I expected it to burst, but it didn’t. Was my luck changing? Hahaha! What a daft thought!
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I measured the jug of urine, and guessed the colour, and hastened, albeit it more of a hobbled-swift-limp, to the Porcelain Throne. This evacuation was in much more of a Constipation Conrad style, a rarity of late. Much to the displeasure of my haemorrhoids. Little cleaning up was needed, & no escpages. Which was a nice change
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Of to check if I’d left anything on the cooker, left the fridge or freezer doors open, or taps left running. Then took the potatoes from the pan, ran cold water on them and threw them away. Krangleturds! Then washed last night’s pots I’d left soaking in the sink.
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My mind semi-engaged, as I remembered this was the hospital day, and faux-planned what needed doing in preparation. Which, as usual, I abandoned and started doing something else. This time I strayed off the plot, and did the Health checks. And was pleasantly surprised to see (both of the day were) figures in just High.
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I got the computer on, and realised I’d not made the list of things to do and take with me to the hospital. But got 
sidetracked in my mission, as Carer Akram arrived.
He noticed a fresh bruise on mt forehead. He took a snap of it with my camera. I could not see a bruise. Akram is a good listener and remembers things that I ask him to do, 
and started without any asking or prompting. He Phorpained my back, neck, and shoulders after using the remover spray.
Issued the medications. I forgot to ask him to have the Catheter bag changed.
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I spent a while making a list of things to do in preparation of the hospital visit, what to take with me. Mizra reminded me to take the paperwork last night, and put it into the waker-trolley for me in a hard envelope, bless him. The camera was too big to carry. A Kodak, and an old Kodak, so it is rather bulky and heavy.
Hearing aid in the tab-holes with new batteries, and both of my prescription glasses. Added the bus pass if needed, and enough money for the taxi each way.
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When the next Carer arrived, he thought that there would be no Escort coming. Then I got an email saying the Easy-Link lift to go to the QMC EENT had been cancelled due to the bus breaking down.
This brought on anger, as my bad luck gets more frequent every day! A deep depression, and fear about not having enough cash to pay both ways for taxis!
With a chance of no Escort as well, I was ready to call it a day. But I think a Carer said it was arranged, but it won’t be me… I clung to the hope.
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I turned off the computer, and pressed on with a stand-up wash, shave and teggie-cleaning in the wet room.
With a most disturbing uncertainty.
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As I washed and shaved, the telephone chirped into life.
I got to the landline, and it was the Doctor’s surgery receptionist, giving me the INR test results.
I returned to the wet room to find I’d left the hot tap running and now, potentially had the cleanest wet room floor than ever before. I’d just put soap powder and bleach in the sink to soak the flannels, then the water spilt over onto the deck!
As I was mopping it up, I knocked a full kitchen roll into the flood. Without thinking, my mind at this point was engaged with self-pity… I bent down to retrieve it, and hit my head on the edge of the sink. Then the intercom
chimed up. No video on the screen, just black. I pressed the open door button, and returned to the wet room and hastily got some more water to go down the drain hole.
Whoever it was on the intercom had not arrived yet.
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PREPARING, TRAVELLING TO,
TREATMENT AND RETURNING
What a wonderful pleasure; it was Carer Ejaz who arrived to be mt escort to the hospital! I could not help myself and hugged him as he entered the room. Bad news about having to get taxis both ways, but he was such a help in getting me ready, and a comfort. He went through the list and made sure I’d got everything needed for the trip. Ordered a taxi and got me dressed; I gave Ejaz all the cash I had to sort paying the drivers with. And down to the main foyer in plenty of time to meet the cabbie. Helped me into the car, but the trolley walker collapsed in the boot, and we were off on our way to the hospital.
The driver got us there in plenty of time. But by the time he’d struggled to get somewhere to park and drop us off, things were a little tight. £8.90, not bad that. I went in; no one was on the reception desk. Ejaz asked someone where we should be, and we were sent to the lifts. Once we got there, I recognised the layout from my last visit. We signed in and sat down waiting to be called in.
A few minutes later, a lady came and called out my name, and we followed her to a treatment room. I thought she looked like the lady who was treating me when I had the seizure. When we got in the room, I recognised her as the same lady. She was so understanding and patient with things and me, Bless Her.🌸🪷
A long session of eye-testing and Q&As followed. She was understanding of my struggle to get into position on the viewer, with pain from arthritis in my neck and shoulder. Never showing any sign of frustration. Nine different tests were done on each eye. Then the wall chart readings through different holed cards, and with various other patterns, were done. At this stage, she kindly explained the result so far. This was prompted by my Ejaz saying I thought I’d got Cataract in the left (far worse vision than the right one), and Glaucoma in the left eye.
I was wrong. I’d got Cataract in both eyes. The floaters had increased greatly in the left eye, and were starting in the right one. Then she explained how serious it was, much worse than they were in her tests months ago when I had the seizure. That stopped the proceedings as she thought I was having a heart attack, and she called the CAT team, and I was kept in cardiac overnight.
I did mention that when I’d been home for a few days, I was not sure if I’d been fully assessed or not. I called the hospital and asked if I needed to come in again, or await further tests. I was told, “They do know what they are doing”, and the phone died. She seemed concerned about this, and it prompted an apology for it taking them so long- months- to get in touch with me.
Then a lady said I need further tests in the scan room, for further examinations to clarify her own findings. She led us back to the waiting area, where I found a slightly higher chair to sit on as we waited.
I can’t recall the name of these scans, but they were better than a kaleidoscope, and much brighter.
On both eyes, she took several different scans. I was struggling to keep perfectly still, and she had to do a few again. But she was patient with me, and talked throughout, explaining what she was testing and what she was testing. But even with the hearing aids, I didn’t realise this; Ejaz told me afterwards.
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Then all done, the first lady collected us, and we went back to the first treatment room. One more test on both, for clarification with scans.
Then, some eye drops were 
put in. I was given two double-sided A4 print-outs, with tips and procedures to be followed, and follow-up guidance. The print was so tiny, minuscule! She recommended that I get someone to read it to me. Had she noticed the hearing aids I was wearing?
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I was hoping to get the tram & bus back home was we left for the exit; both free with my passes. But no, Ejaz (not his fault) ordered a taxi, as he had to get me home quickly, as he had his regular client to visit. My immediate thought was, why am I no longer a regular with Ejaz? I sense some ulterior motive for this. Thus my £39 in the morning dwindled to £3.45 by the time we got back to the flat.
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Well, gone midnight now, I’m so weary. I’ll try to make a meal up, and myself get to bed. Not that I anticipate getting much sleep. So many nights of broken sleep, with the mind always rattling away reminding me of my multitude of unresolved problems,
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TASTE RATING: 7.1/10
Knocked ice off of individual clunks of out-of-date chips from the oven. They were not as good-tasting as anticipated. But the no-butter buttered bread rolls, and last of the Roquefort cheese? Delicious!
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🌹🌺🌷TTFN🌷🌺🌹
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Inchie Today: Sunday 23nd November 2025
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May peace appear and adhere,
Today and for your future,
Ailments wane, for even longer…
Joy to each peacekeeper & peace lover,
Help from an evil-abrocator?
May humankind find benignity?
Can we all live again, less bleak & darker?
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03:30hrs: I bounded out of the hospital bed and somersaulted over the recliner, hit the deck and did a nifty 200 press-ups, followed by another 200 toe-touches. Nipped onto the snow and ice-covered balcony, and did fifteen minutes of shadow boxing. Opened a window and yodelled a good morning to all the wonderful people nearby. Then, I hopscotched to the wet room. Taking off my night cather pouch as I hopped along. Well… that may be a bit of a slight exaggeration? Hahaha! Here’s the reality. 05:30hrs, I reluctantly stirred and tried to will and urge the clock to go backwards. It didn’t work, of course. So, I moved to the edge of the bed and freed the nocturnal catheter from the day bag. Dizzy Dennis was prompted into action as I had to bend down. Although I did not do the balance exercises, as I made my way into the kitchen to check if I’d left taps on, cookers on or fridge doors open, I was coping well, with very few wobbles from the catheters either. 
All being in order in the kitchen,
I visited the Porcelan Throne. I was a few inches off getting seated on the toilet lid, and a torrent of Trotsky Terence proportions fell, no, squirted, no, thundered into the porcelain, with a splash, and it was all finished! It honestly looked as if I’d decorated the bowl with brown emulsion eggshell paint. And had applied multiple coats too! Tsk!
I finally got out of the wetroom after an awful lot of cleaning up was carried out, Haha! Then I took these shots of the view, such as it was, from the kitchen.
Not very good, I’m afraid. I’ve been struggling lately to take any worthwhile morning shots. I could hear the police helicopter flying, but not see it.
I made a brew of tea and got the morning HC checks done next. Then had a think about how I could work things out, to get a shower with my ablutions.
I decided to get the straps off of the legs and ask Ejaz to take the socks off for me. Ejaz arrived at this point. As I chose not to have a shower after all. (Why, I can’t really recall at this moment) Ejaz got the socks off, then helped wash and dry my feet. Bless him. Issued the medications. No point in any creaming, foaming, or body checks until after I’d finished my ablutions.
He did a quick hoover around, bless him again.
I took this shot from the kitchenette window as the morning brightened up a little. But the rain started to come down. Another bad photo. I managed to capture, top left, a patch of turquoise sky that was not visible to the naked eye when I snapped it.
Back into the wetroom, and started the overdue body, teggie, cleaning. Before shaving, I felt the blood coming from 
. 
I got things cleaned up, dried and ointmentated various areas of my magnificent, noned, staut, 
healthy body, where it was required.
There were quite a few in need, but things like the Cartilages, Atkritis, Fractured-Knee-Frankie, Lymphorrea Leslie and Ingrowing Toenail 
Terry were unreachable. Well, I could have reached them, I suppose, but the pain and or dizziness I get bending made me shy away from even trying to medicate them. Chicken!
Getting the PPs on went amazingly well today! In fact, it was the easiest ever.
And… Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion did not bleed!
Not only that, I’m not kidding… but I had no cuts shaving, and did not walk into any door or wall, all day long!
As I hung the towel to dry on the clothes airer in the hallway, I came as close to tripping over the electric cable without falling as I ever had; it was a miracle. This actually brought on my old, much-missed saviour and friend 
.
I pushed myself on the wall to prevent getting tangled in the heater and wire, and I hit the back of the other wall, which was where I’d left the walking stick, a bit of good luck there! I grabbed it and used the other wall to regain my balance. A definite and wonderful welcome 
!
Then, the Khagoule needed handwashing, quickly, before the hot water tank refilled and while it was still hot enough. Isn’t life awkward at times? Haha!
I got the dressing gown washed, and got soaked while wringing the Khagoule out after washing it, but it didn’t bother me, for was with me. Which meant I didn’t give a damn about me getting wet, and the kitchen floor would need cleaning or mopping!
Puft! Sod ’em all & everything! I hung up the shirt in the wet room to dry.
However, while mopping the floor, I slipped a little and twisted 
, but it wasn’t the pain it caused. I think it was the disappointment of me having a little run of good luck, for about 15 minutes, then things falling back into my usual feeling of defeatism. Self-pity and self-lambasting started!
. I felt so hard done by for some reason. Life is like this for me every single day, so why should it get to me so much more on this occasion? I think I just explained that?
I got on with the blogging at long last, and Carer Mizra arrived. A grand lad. He had to rush, but still got the socks and straps back on the legs for me and kept within his time quota. Thanks to Ejaz, Misra & Ahram for their understanding today.
The rain, although heavy at times, was start-stop at the same time. Does that make sense? I nipped into the balcony to take a snap of the end car park.
Later, I took snaps of the view from the kitchen again, hoping to get a decent one for once. The first one, to the left, was not too bad.
The second one was taken to the right of the window.
Not too good again.
I was determined to get a reasonably decent snap for the third one, Hahaha!
Oh, Flipping ‘eck!
I might give up trying to take night shops in the future… shops? Now I can’t even type right, or take might photos!
Carer Ahram arrived, and he issued the medications. Emptied the catheter jug for me. He checked that the last HC figures were recorded correctly. Thanks, mate.
Blogging, time to start the Ode, methinks.
Sunday morning catch-up.
Something people don’t eat often nowadays. Faggots in gravy with mashed potatoes. A ready-made microwave meal from Parsley Box. I made extra pork gravy, added it to the mix, and dunked two large cheesy-topped bread rolls in it. Do folks do this now? Well, I love them. Especially the faggots, they taste good to me, and no bother about what few rotting, hurting teeth I have left.
An old-fashioned meal?
Well, yes, but so am I. Hehehe!
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I.C.C. Carers’ Manpreet, Mizra, Abdul, and the last one, whose name I forgot to ask. Ejaz did not make any calls again today. Shame!
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🤎 MAY PEACE & JOY INVADE YOU 🤎
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Inchy: Friday 21st November 2025
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While he was a barrister, he must have learned all the tricks of the crooked trade, for lying and getting away with it. And realised he had, too. Lying by omission, blatant falsities, and cunning answers given when challenged as well. Always prepared to add to the lies he’d already spouted; blame others. His amazing ability to keep a straight face when he’s in the wrong and to pretend to give an explanation is a precious gift for any man, but he is a cut above the others. Credit where it’s due, not since Winston Churchill has any man fibbed better than Herr Starmer. Yes, we know many, if not all, of the PMs lied while in office.
Wilson, Thatcher, Blair, Cameron… not forgetting the United Nations top dogs! Let’s be fair…
The United Nations has been criticised for a variety of reasons, including its policies, ideology, equality of representation, administration, enforcement of rulings, and bias. Often cited points of criticism include a perceived lack of the body’s efficacy (including a total lack of effectiveness in both pre-emptive measures and de-escalation of existing conflicts which have ranged from social disputes to all-out wars); collusion, Discrimination, appeasement, promotion of globalism, inaction, abuse of power by nations exerting general control over the General Assembly, corruption and misappropriation of resources. Many United Nations decisions are seen as failures to prevent armed conflicts and to enforce the Charter of the United Nations.
The United Nations has faced several significant scandals over the years, involving various leaders and agencies in allegations of corruption, abuse of power, and sexual misconduct. (76).
Whistleblower Retaliation and Misconduct Cover-ups.
The UN has faced persistent criticism for a “culture of fear” and failure to protect whistleblowers who try to expose corruption, misogyny, sexual abuse, and other wrongdoing within the organisation.
Kofi Annan (Secretary-General 1997-2006):
Annan’s tenure was overshadowed by the “Oil-for-Food” scandal, a massive corruption scheme in the UN’s humanitarian program for Iraq. The program was rife with accusations that profits were unlawfully diverted to the Iraqi government and UN officials.
Ban Ki-moon (Secretary-General 2007-2016): While not personally charged with a major financial scandal, his tenure included an admission of the UN’s culpability in a cholera outbreak in Haiti, caused by UN aid workers from Nepal, which killed over 10,000 people. The UN initially claimed diplomatic immunity, but later apologised and committed to aid (which has been slow to materialise).
John Ashe (President of the UN General Ass 13-20):
Ashe was arrested and charged with corruption by U.S. authorities, accused of accepting over $1 million in bribes from Chinese businessmen in exchange for supporting their interests within the UN.
Mukhisa Kituyi (UNCTAD Secretary-General):
The UN Conference on Trade and Development was accused of nepotism in 2016 when Kituyi reportedly appointed his son-in-law to a high-level position.
Corruption and Mismanagement within Agencies:
UNOPS Scandal: In 2023, the UN sought repayment of $63.6 million from a former official involved in a failed investment program, highlighting a “massive breakdown of financial oversight” within the UN Office for Project Services (UNOPS).
UNRWA Allegations: A 2019 ethics report accused the leadership of the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) of abuse of power.
Whistleblower Retaliation: The UN has faced severe criticism for a “culture of fear” and for firing whistleblowers who attempted to expose wrongdoing, corruption, and sexual abuse, rather than protecting them.
Intelligence and Spying: There have been allegations of member states, including the U.S., UK, and Australia, conducting phone-tapping operations and spying on UN officials, including former Secretary-General Kofi Annan and weapons inspector Hans Blix.
Just thought I’d mention them, back to Starmer’s Ode…
Lies? He cleverly avoids being admittable,
He worries not of this not being affordable,
His antics have made MPs & voters alienable,
His promises are amendable,
His decisions are not fully analysable,
His attitude is somewhat antagonisable
One thing I always find anticipatable…
His answers will be untruthful and antisociable,
His decisions will not be appealable,
His comments include being self-applaudable,
From crimes against humanity, he should be arrestable,
Sausage not hostage, made him a spectacle,
Robbing pensioners, not guilt attachable…
Now MPs rebel… it was unavoidable,
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05:30hrs: I stirred. Moved the knees, wriggled my lower regions, no signs of too much bother or pain. Got slowly onto the side of the bed and bent down to remove the night pouch from the catheter. Did the exercises and stood up to test my balance. Only slightly wonky. This was the best condition I’ve woken up in for many days. 
Catheters and Dizzy Dennis were all mild. Yee-haa!
Mug of tea.
Another strange one.
Phorpaining.
Well, the new chemist is issuing Ibrolgel Forte. The same thing under a different name
Health Checks recorded.
One pad on – one won’t go.
CorelDraw work.
Bikkie Barrels Reloaded!
Gotten Himmel.
Emptied it just in time.
More hand washing.
Night drinkie.
Getting dark.
Caught it!
Sweet & sour vegetables.
Qurh added Fung Po sauce.
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🤎 Bless Yers All. Thanks! 🤎
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THIS BLOG WAS WRITTEN SUGAR-FREE
Inchie: Wed 19th Nov 25
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My problems continue to be compounded,
But on this subject, I’m not particularly confused,
For my abilities have been commandeered,
I knew this was coming; I’ve long feared,
But there is no way this can be repaired,
Tasks, dreams, & wants cannot be completed,
Failure has to be conceded, accepted…
Although the causes are comprehended,
Problem-solving gets my brain circumvolved,
My balance gets hazy, giddy, circumlocuted,
Dark Dank Depression Darius is generated,
Self-pity can often be provoked, expedited,
Offers of help fail, after being countenanced,
Carer Ejaz today, really-really helped…
He got me an appointment in Sherwood,
He’s cheeky, but such a lovely lad,
They’ve cut his calls down. I was so sad,
Today, once again, he made me glad,
Suddenly, things don’t feel quite as bad!
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05:40: I remembered to do the balance exercises this morning. Honestly! First time in days, Hehe!
Got the nocturnal pouch off, and while emptying it, the need for an evacuation arose. I should think it took me at most 60 seconds to get seated, and Pwhor!
An Irish stew-like torrential burst of semi-liquid shot out as if it were nuclear-powered! Well, it was all over in seconds, ten at most! That was a bit of luck. If I’d been in the kitchen, I’d never have made it in time!
Off to the kitchen…
I’d left the bloody hot tap running all night again!
Good news, remembering the balance routine. Then, my being close enough to avert a Porvelain Throne embarrassment in the wet room. Now bad in the kitchen. Do you realise I’ve had more good than bad luck this morning? !
While waiting for the kettle to boil, I took three photographicalistions with my Kodak Tim 2 camera from the kitchenette window, of the dark, rainy view it beheld. The first one was not a good one at all, 
of the front car park. I tried again and made an even worse job of it. However, this did not stop me from making another effort, determined to get one 
passable photo out of the session. Well, it wasn’t going to challenge Savis Bailey’s reputation, Haha! But it was a smidge improved on the first two, I think.
I got the Health Checks sorted. Then I got the results put into the NHS graph thingamajig. It was nerve-racking how long it took to open Excel!
Carer Manpreet arrived. She sorted the medications and wanted to do a body check, cleaning, and foaming, but I explained that I have not had a shorter shave or wash yet, due to my newfound ability to keep leaving the hot tap running in the kitchen, daily!
Manpreet checked the HC figures; I’d got one wrong again. Good Luck 2 – Crap-Luck 6. That soon changed the odds. 
As Manpreet was leaving, the forgotten about Ocado order arrived.
Manpreet took the bags into the kitchen for me, which was very welcome and appreciated.
Some treats for the old man had come. Biscuits were Scottish Shortcakes. Cheesy curls and onion rings were put in the main junk-computer room for ease of access 
to nibble. He-he!
Jason’s sourdough rolls. Cheesy-topped rolls. Tucks, cheese & caramelised. Freshly cooked beetroot and cooked Polish Kielbasa sausages, and several bottles of Spring water.
On with the blogging at long last. I was titivating a CorelDraw graphic, and…
The computer froze! I was depressed instantly! I pondered over what had caused this for a while, and soon realised the only answer, not a cure, was to turn it all off at the power. I crossed fingers, and did. I waited 
for a few minutes and took another photo from the kitchen window. The first one of the slower-melting snow in the field.
Then one of the front car park for the third time. This one came out clearer. But it was a lot lighter, so I expected a better job.
Then I went back to the computer and turned it on.
I think the photos were taken out of fear or frustration, at least as a way to forget or hide the problem.
The computer came on all right. I temporarily changed some details in the Excel graph, changed them back, and the programme saved each one. So far, so good. Then I opened CorelDraw.
WHAT A PICKLE!
It started to load; it’s always been a slow job. When, as usual, CorwlDraw opened the last-edited page, I got so many error messages. I was bamboozled.
I was still trying to sort out the problems (over an hour lost so far), and Carer Misra arrived. He checked the second HC figures for me. Peptac and a painkiller were given. While he was here, the door chime rang out, and Carer Ejaz came in to do a more extended visit. Now I was getting more muddled than ever. Nizra was thanked, and he departed. Ejaz took the laundry down and got it in the washer.
Ejaz returned and took up the task of calling Virgin Media. Oh, no, first helped and guided me through an email they sent me yesterday evening. We had to change the password and merge details with my EE account. That took ages, but worked nicely thanks to Ejaz’s input.
Then, as he saw how I was struggling to see correctly, Ejaz suggested I ring the Doctor to get a referral for the EENT department to see about my worsening Glaucoma. Good idea. He called them and spoke with the patient assessor for some time. Handed me the landline handset to answer the bloke’s questions, he sounded as usual, uptight, short and sharp in speech.
I was starting my reply…
AND THE LINE CLUNKED AS HE CUT ME OFF!
As Ejaz and I spoke of the problem, Ejaz decided to ring the EENT directly. We got the number from the web. No answer. As we chatted further, I remembered that it was not the Doctor who referred me to the EENT over my Cataracts, it was the optician!
I got the same Sherwood optician’s number, and Ejaz rang them to ask for an appointment on a Wednesday, then he could go with me. After a short phone call, he declared that he’d got an appointment for me at 12:20hrs next Wednesday, 26th November.
Thank heavens for Ejaz! The lad went down to collect the laundry, returned with it, and hung it up for me. He’d looked after me well today with the appointment making. Thanks, lad!
The only issue is that no cleaning was done. No paperwork done. And no date checking. Not Ejaz’s fault, did a great job, but ran out of time. I’ve begged the social to give me more Carer time, but no.
Next week, nothing will get cleaned either, as we are going out to the opticians!
This place is going to be in a right mess.
Still, I am delighted to get to the opticians, and hope he can refer me to the EENT to get the left eye sorted. Lefty is so faded and blurry that I can’t really use it. I was thinking of getting an eye pad. Does anyone have any advice out there, please?
There’s no doubt that if he does pass me on, it will be a long wait. Can’t be helped. A bit like me. That’s not true. Ejaz & Mizra do their best and are pleasant with it. But Ejaz is only doing one call at night every day, except Wednesday, which is making things difficult. To put things in perspective.
After Ejaz rushed off, I went to make a brew of tea. I must get around to seeing if the computer will work again yet.
That’s how late it is!
Carer Ahram did the late call.
Ejaz might do the night call.
I got back on the computer.
It took me ages and a lot of tweaking to get CorelDraw to load the last graphic used. I had to move files around into a less heavily used folder, so many that I can’t remember where for next time this happens.
I loaded eventually, but it would not save. I had to search for CDR files and delete some to get it to save, but it isn’t working at the moment.
I used CCleaner and then Norton to clear more, hoping I haven’t buggered something up and that it won’t start in the morning.
Highly satisfactory!
I’ve had successes today, thanks to the Carers, particularly Ejaz, with appointments obtained.
But plenty of failures.
FED UP!
TTFNski
Inchie: Friday 29th August 2025
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Random things that can yet, or did, make me happy…
From memory, diaries, and some even theoretically,
At 14, a Lady of forty took my cherry,
Which I loved, but why? It confused me,
Which life has done, ever since, diurnally,
Later, developing a natural negativity,
Cynicism, defeatism, and despondency,
This helped me cope with life’s adversity,
At birth, Mother said, ‘Throw it away’,
Life would have been a little shorter…
but have gone less problematically,
Am I losing the plot of the faux-poetry?
No, it’s just my affected memory…
In old age, my teeth are rotting away…
Diabetes Don, Anne Gyna, Cartalige Chloe,
Duodenal Donald, Toothache Tiffany,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Peggy,
Myoclonic-Seizures-Sid, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Inchy’s Fungal Lesion, & Lymphorrhea Leslie,
Méniere’s disease, Episodic-Ataxia-Ellie,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Eric’s Eczema,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, mentally,
Earache Eric, Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Herings aids, both needing a battery,
Ingrowing toenails; Unguis Incarnate Nelly,
Mechanic Ticker Trevor and Reflux Valve Rene,
Newly-diagnosed Hydrocephalus-Harry,
They don’t overbother me, individually,
For they are all a part of me, intrinsically…
Even when affecting me painfully or cripplingly,
Coping with a warped brain & disabled body,
Getting through each day makes me happy,
Another secret, to help you feel less crappy,
Concentrate on hexing Starmer (the Iffy),
His soundbites on isonomy prove his inanity,
He rules crappily, but has got inexpugnability,
Taking backhaners from the Oligarchy,
No one can deny his lies & criminality,
I pray for a political solution, philosophically,
We can do nothing legally curatively,
I’m only thinking this whimsically…
I’m hoping he dies painfully…
very slowly and in utter agony,
Tomorrow perhaps? Hopefully,
That’d make me overjoyedly happy!
TODAY’S COCK-UPS
I tell you now of my discontent,
Why is my life so abhorrent?
Whoopsiedangleplops Accifauxpa torrent,
Unsolvable Problems & ailments,
The computer, now an inconvenience!
No help from anywhere,
Its memory is now bare,
Tonight, CorelDraw died,
My depression cannot be denied,
I managed to save some graphics & photos,
Got old ones, I’ll have to use those,
Struggling with this Odes prose,
Made an order by mistake on Amazon.
Tried to cancel it, reply waited on,
Already got my lowest ever bank balance,
Find a Solution? I haven’t had a chance!
Will it let me update this blog? I’m not yet sure,
All my problems, not one cure!
I feared being forced into an old folks’ home,
At this moment, I realise that I’d not be alone,
Financially, physically, and mentally sick!
In the morning, I woke up in a seizure,
And then came the morning Carer,
Of which there is little I can remember,
It may be the end of my blogging,
I don’t know yet if this blog will be saved,
But after all my work in creating…
If not, it’s going to be so gauling,
I’m hoping that CorelDraw will be loading,
Not confident, just hoping,
The wheelchair ordered is self-propelling,
The standard one, I got it four weeks ago,
But no Carer has taken out, though,
When I get paid for the self-propeller,
And get it inspected by a Carer,
I can get out and feel freer,
But what I do now fear,
By the time it’s checked & inspected,
I might be too old to use it, well dated!
Still no appointment made for the Audio Clinic,
No delivery of the Diabetic osenitic,
I’m feeling so depressed and sick!
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Up 05:55hrs. Urine was a 5 on the Richter scale.
Views taken from the balcony
End car park.
Towards Mansfield Road
Towards the park
Left, front car park & flat balconies
Had a bit of a mini seizure that lasted seconds, I thought. That’s a guesstimate. After the seizure, a little out of it, I made a mug of Detox tea and tended to my ablutions. Then shelled some garden peas to nibble cold and add to the planned stew tonight.
To the intercom to let in Carer Ejaz. Who did a fair job for me this morning? Diabetic socks were put on.
Medications were given.
I started to do the blog.
I noticed I’d not changed the date on the clock.
Got a mug of proper tea, and the peas to nibble. Seeing that I had still not changed the date on the clock. So, I did!
Started to update yesterday’s blog.
I got into it and felt the catheter bag drop; the urine pouch was full to the brim, and the weight of the bag tugged the tube in little Inchy. I believe I may just have used some naughty language.
Just look at the amount of urine that came out. The bag is a 200ml one, but the jug indicates it is 400ml. No wonder it felt down.
I got a call to say that an ambulance was on its way to see me. No idea why?
Sister Jane rang me. It was hard work without the hearing aids. I’d been trying to book an appointment for 4 weeks with the Carers. But no joy. I moaned a little about things to her. And she moaned back about her problems. Hehehe! And told me off, of course.
The intercom chimed. The chap came in with an electric scooter. I thought at first it was a Red Cross man bribing it for me – what a clot! It was a Carer, Ahbul. I showed him the wheelchair on the balcony and moaned that no Carer had taken me out on it yet; in fact, it hadn’t been fully erected and checked for safety yet. The lad departed, and I’d been talking (I talk a lot nowadays, mainly to myself and my alter ego, Inchie) about the wheelchair. I went on the balcony and checked out the disabled machines.
The four-whelled walker.
The new wheelchair, unused to date. Fitted a cushion on it. Searched around with the aid of the impractical, worthless manual, which had such tiny printing that it was really of no value.
At least the cushion fitted. I found where the passenger brakes were and tried them. Crude tinny metal, but they worked.
Then had an in-depth, almost pointless perusal of the mwinenace/instruction manual. I think it might have been for the wrong model. As you can see in the photo I took, this is for a self-propelled model with large wheels.
This model has tiny wheels.
However, the thought of having a self-propelled one and the advantage of not needing an expensive Carer to push me means I perhaps could get to the Social Room in the other block of flats, Winwood Court, and have a chat with others. Maybe, perhaps, possibly. Or not. There’s bound ot be a difficulty in getting one on the NHS, but I felt one would benefit me.
So, I went to the Amazon site to investigate.
The prices ranged from £69 for a child. Up to £3,999 for a Sports Model. The ones that caught my eye were those with pad-cusions for the back of the legs, which was the first criterion I adopted. Many of them had a strap across the front of the frame. These pads claim to be better for people with diabetes. So, I went through all 44 pages of what I searched for: self-propelled wheelchairs with brakes at the front and back. (Leg pads in brackets)
Five at £184, one at £148. The £184 ones all looked the same model. The £148 did not have handbrakes for the pusher. This was the only difference that I could find. Then, I checked the comments about the £148. Not good. 2.5 rating overall. I was going to check the comments for the £184 one, but Carer Nizra arrived and I forgot all about checking.
Then the mobile rang. The £35-a-bash toenail cutter was on its way up to me.
When I got back on the computer, I found that I’d ordered the £148 wheelchair. Nobody told me… except Amazon, in an email. I went to Amazon to cancel the order. The message said, ‘We will try to cancel it, let you know, and advise you.
The gal got my nails cut, and we managed a little chat and a laugh.
Look at the time already!
A fantastic site, no, sight!
Off to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence led the session, but not as dominantly this time.
When I got back in the front room, I was pretty ashamed of the mess in there.
I made up the meal for later on, one of my off-the-cuff stews, or whatever they should be called. Masses of garden peas, other vegetables, chopped some water chestnuts into it, and added Bovril. I had some bread left over that wasn’t too hard for dipping.
Turned off the computer and had only put on today’s cartoon. So far behind again.
CALAMIY, FEAR, MORE DEPRESSION DARIUS!
I couldn’t save the work I’d done in CorelDraw.
Not enough memory available!
I went to make a brew to help me think through my options available to rescue things.
Despite my morseness, I still took these snaps of the view from the kitchen window. Not even knowing if I can use them or not. Proof that I need help!
As if I didn’t know beforehand already!
The meal came out well.
I went to wash the pots, and yet again, possibly wasted my time taking this last snap.
Still, it’s worth it, a bit of nature.
Another day of Depression & Frustration,
Seizures, errors just never lessen,
This should teach me a lesson…
To get mental rest, do I need absolution?
Mistakes, lost words, or an anachronism…
Forgetfulness, confusion, an aphorism,
It’s months since my last cachinnation,
Life once livable is now a damnation,
Today I felt as if I was forsaken…
Of course, I could have been mistaken,
No help, hope, or satisfaction…
High Mood Horis was missing in action,
So many things, to curse or gurn in reaction,
I’m depressed, more than a fraction…
I find life & living, all a guesstimation!
#= # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #
I REALLY HOPE I’LL BE BACK!
#= # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #
Sorry, I’ve had so little time to get on the WP Reader & Comments. It’s been even busier than usual lately. And I’ve not started writing Saturday’s blog yet.