Carer Dilan

Inchie: Tuesday 19th May 2026 – A fall & A Flood

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The Ode explains my early-morning kerfuffle.
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We had not had time to properly clean the wet room. But my attention was on the flaming new computer mysteries with Corel Draw, the new complicated Note app, and my seemingly new to me (I’m fibbing, done it months now, even on the old keyboard) habit of hitting the wrong combinations of keys, and getting up so many baffling options to choose if I wish to continue using programs I’ve never heard of.
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Carer Rashid, then Dilan, then Mizra, then Carer Ejaz called today. Damned busy, so much that this is going to be another rushed, no-time-to-do-properly, blog.
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The second call was to Dilan. Who got the laundry started and called Jenny to let her know. Then I asked him and explained what I’d like done to finish the wet room cleaning.
He did a great job!
Hard to see the depth of or even the water…
You can see how it soaked the box of Dettol.
Later, Carer Dilan tackled it after taking the laundry down to the laundry and putting it in the washer. 
Cleaned up the stuff I’d dropped in the corner.
And behind the pipework.
Mats down, much betterer!
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Lovely view this afternoon.
I discovered a reason for my making so many errors of the computer, CorelDraw, MS Word, Excel and the blog.
I’d been looking at the ‘Cool’ battery clock calendar! This time, at a quarter to one PM, I had not updated the clock’s date for two days! Naturally, for me anyway, I swore at myself, added some locally used curses and insults, spat, and sulked for quite a while. Went to do what so many folks do, I made a brew of my favourite tea and got some biscuits out to dunk. They didn’t get dunked. I dropped the mug, and the handle came off. Undeterred, I made another brew of Glengettie with it. Feeling rather smug didn’t last long either; a hairline crack sent the freshly made tea spilling out, then the mug cracked and broke. Sending tea all over the counter, then down the cupboard doors below, decorating my Khagoule as it did so. 
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Two shots from the kitchenette window as I made a third mug of tea, Co-op 99 this time.
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The Carer took these two later.
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I partly made a meal, just some spuds to add to it. I haven’t got any fresh ones, so I opened the last tin.
Then I realised that only Asda, Iceland, Ocado, and Morrisons had rejected my sign-in to place an order. Because it was on the new computer. I half-heartedly tried J Sainsbury’s. And got in! Hopefully I’ll have bread, tomatoes, a few ready-made meals, bikkies, potatoes, veg and mushrooms in the morning.
Hopefully, (I did, but it was a terrible day).
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Inchy: Sun/Mon 10-11th May 2026

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BP AND TEMP UP
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A mixed Sunday. Starting with my inability to move when I woke up. No medical or mental problems as such. I just felt so tired out and drained. I think I’ve worked out what the problem was, but I can’t be certain. But then, whenever could I be? Not for years.
I was dreaming that I was in the porta-cabin where we used to hold the weekly social get-together for the residents. I really did think I was there, and could see and talk to the folks enjoying the meeting that Jenny used to organise. I reckon this caused my reluctance to get up… I must have been trying to nod off again to get back to the enjoyment and fun I was having again. See Gaynor, Cynth, Jenny, Joe, and the others again.
I know it sounds strange, but I was asleep and was knowingly trying to reach for the dream to reappear. 
I part-slept for longer than I have since having my 1996 Covid jab, when I slept for 22 hours.
I was eventually forced to get up by a disgusted-looking Carer Dilan. Not amused at all.

, after the Carer departed – I farted, and near as it is possible for me, I darted, well, hobbled swiftly to the wet room and Porcelain Throne… I’m sure my regular readers will know what happened next… but I’ll tell you, I didn’t make it in time! Then into clearing and cleaning-up mode. 

Next: After a long battle with the computer, and not knowing what I was doing, I
rather miraculously got it to boot into action.
Then spent hours and hours doing the one-off blog of Mr Starmer’s reaction to the disastrous local election result for Labour. I enjoyed doing that, but did not get it done until very late. And I was so tired again. Possibly, I thought I might get back to the Wednesday Social in the porta-cabin, if I got my head down?
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Snaps of the day
Bootifull!
Amazing skies
Accidental photo, Hehe!

Attempted wide shots, erm, failed.
Plates of meat status
A better effort
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Sorry, no Ode today. Just
A TALE OF WOE… Maybe later?
After removing the night bag, with only 500ml in it, and taking some photos, sorting the wast bins, having a wash, shave and shit,  doing my teggies, and getting the dressing gown on… the 
Catheter Flowback started again. And this time it was worse than the last two occasions.
Carer Rachid arrived and saw the pain and heard the bad language each time the stabbing, stinging pains hit me. I’ll call the nurses later to see if they can attend, too early in the day yet.

Rashid called again. I was in a lot of pain from the return of the Catheter flowback pains. He said he’ll phone for an ambulance. I explained that I’d called the District Nurses, who will be calling on me, so no need. Adding, if I go by ambulance, I’ll have another nine-hour wait in a corridor to be seen, and I didn’t fancy that again. He picked up the phone to dial 999. I said, “Do not use the landline; if you use your phone, any problems, they will phone you back, and then you’ll keep in touch with what is happening. He carried on using the landline. I made sure what to do when I took the phone, in case of it was not needed. The lady asked me to ring 999 to cancel. Which Rasid later did… on the landline. When he made his next call, the Nurse arrived. She got me on the bed, and he came leaning over me to see things. I asked for a bit of privacy. The procedure took a long time, and the Nurse handled it well. She got the tube out and showed me the black on the inner end of it, with a lot of gunk in it, like last time. Saying this can happen when we get older. So it might not be an infection. She asked Rachid to do a proper job of cleaning the testicle area. She is ordering some foam spray to clean the skin before applying the Barrier Cream. “You’ve made a right mess here.” That didn’t go down well! Inserting the new tube was almost painless; she first used a lot of the pain gel.
The Nurse took a urine sample to test for infection—the new pouch filled in seconds. The Urine was almost red. The only thing was, after she had gone. I found that the new pouch had a butterfly release valve. I’d stopped using them when I kept catching the clip and opening it. Peeing on my legs, slippers and on the carpet. Fingers crossed. Haha!

Photographs of the day
This one was taken when I woke during the night.
Why did I take these?
Anyone’s guess, Tsk!
Ah, the not-working Catheter.
The Catheter started working again seconds after, thanks to the nurses’ skills.
The Sun kept disappearing.
All-Starmer on the News.
The first flow after the initial torrent.
A bit bloody, as was anticipated.
A high shot here.
Seems the Sun was losing
the battle again. Lower down,
it was getting through.
But, another mystery here; 
Why did the shot of it
not get on to the SD card?
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Despite being overjoyed at getting the Catheter agony removed, I am now feeling very queasy, and not at all like wanting to eat anything. Another Mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind: which is now losing its few marbles it has left.
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The last late snaps…
Late sundown.
Late sundown, closer
Help was needed from the Carer to
get this one ready.
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All the regular pains returned later on.
The Ingrowing-Toenail-Titus, Back-Pain-Brenda, Lymphorea-Leslie, Colin-Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Kidney-Pains-Kitty, Fractured-Knee-Frank, Duodenal Donald, and even Anne Gyna threw in her pennorth of pain. But, with the memory of today’s chronic Catheter Flowback Pains, I almost welcomed the return of my regular ailment, which had been overshadowed by the more vicious, cruel Bladder-Blockage-Beryl agony that no medication could counter. Thank heavens the Nurse came. 🤎
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Inchie: Friday 17th April 2026

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Sorry, no Ode – Sad that. Details below are a smidgeon teeny-bitlong-winded, perhaps. Sorry again.
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I have two pages of notes on today’s rather miserable day. With no sleep at all overnight. I was going to go shopping with Carer Mizra. But 9 hours of bladder pains with no urine getting through again, and this time it was far more agonising than Wednesday night’s performance. If you don’t mind, with it being fresh in my mind and no notes recorded of this period, I’d like to explain the Whoopsiedangleplops and Tale-Of-Woe of the Nottingham Lad’s Friday, well, agony, first.
This covers 2100hrs to 0630hrs Saturday.
The morning had little, if any, trouble from the Catheter or bladder. In the afternoon, things slowly got worse. The amount of urine entering the bag gradually decreased, and twinges and stabbing pains developed. Despite my slurping more water than ever, I was nervous of the night bringing what it did. brought.
21:00hrs; I added the Catheter Night Pouch to the day bag, and from then on, no urine flow. I managed to drink about a gallon of water. Until the pain increased, then overnight it got horrendous. horrendous overnight. I got a little sleep, for twenty minutes or so, just after midnight. I could not sit or lie down. Pottering about at first, in the kitchen, then the spare room, to get things done, in an effort to get the pain out of my mind. It didn’t work, of course.
I had to keep trying to take a rear-end phoo.
I took a variety of attempts, all but one were too painful to pass, giving my bladder a pasting of pain. 
The last one, Oh, drearie me, I did not get there in time. “Another mess to clean up, which caused more hassle”.
I was suffering by the time I’d cleaned it up and myself. For the second day, I summoned the community nurses for help. They got the catheter working. But it stopped within five minutes of them leaving. But still… erm, er… forgot what I was going to say then.

My eyesight is terrible.
I’ve had no sleep for several days.
The Catheter is giving me so much GIP, I can’t concentrate on anything. I’ll just do short blogs, if the computer lets me, for a few days.
Saturday was another “Why do I bother” day!
It is now Sunday. I’ll put some photos on, but I doubt I’ll remember what was what and when.

Morning shot of the balcony


The day brightened suddenly

List of things to get done on Saturday. Hopefully, Carer Mizra will be able to take me shopping. But only if the Catheter starts working properly.
Needless to say, I suppose, but this did not happen.

Nice night shots.

Carer Mizra asked if I wanted a meal done. But I could see he was running late, and declined the offer.
I made a cold meal, though.
Keilbasa (Sausages), seaweed. mushrooms,
and some ready-cooked chestnuts. Nice.

This is what can happen if your Catheter plug shoots open when you are in the kitchen… cause the pee started coming out, and it filled that quickly, and decorated the floor as I had to hobble through it with the walking stick, to get the mop and bucket!
Finding this mess, fallen twixt the non-working cooker and the floor cupboard, its door hanging off.

The sleep proved to be a third night of no sleep.
Even worse, it was not really painful, more like an excruciating, piercing, agonising, Insomnia-ridden, antsy one.


Instead of calling me, James Timothy Gerald, Percival, Algernoon. Luckless might have helped.

😖 TTFN 🤔

Inchie: Tue 31 Mar 2026: Problems increase – Solutions decrease. Humph!

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I did not get around to starting this blog until Wednesday night. You will read why, if you are brave enough to read the reasons listed below. Haha!
If I ever get Wednesdays finished, you will read of me knuckling with Carer Mizra in celebration. No kidding… one of the many outstanding worries has been removed. I’ll not let on yet as to the reason, for my rare moment of joy, laughter and glee. Hehehe! For I have a lot of the miseries of Tuesday to record yet. The frustrations & failures… usual sort of day then.
Oh, did I mention that I lost my reading glasses? Not that it matters to Left Eye Gladys-Glaucoma, or right eye Cataract-Katie. Tsk!
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I woke up. I know that, ’cause when I got out of bed, I stubbed my toe on the walker. Removed the night bag and headed to the Porcelain Throne. For the first of many visits today. This one was a failure. I went to Hoover, the hallway, and the front room, but couldn’t find the charger. Ejaz or Mizra are my compensation for having bad eyesight. One of them will find it, I’m sure. Carer Dilon arrived. I told him of the difficulty I’ve got seeing without the eyeglasses. Med’s given. The Nurse noticed the Catheter bag was nearly full and asked if the Carer had checked it this morning. I said he was just about to. He produced the wee-wee jug and emptied it. I sprayed the disinfectant on his gloves, the Catheter nozzle and in the jug. After a quick but fruitless search for the glasses again, she said, “You’ll find them when you’re not looking for them. Let me know where they were!” A lovely smile offered, and off she trotted. Followed by Carer Dillon. I undertook another hunt for my Hoover’s charging plug. I searched all odd places that I was sure would prove a failure. Where oh where could it possibly be? A good question, but no success followed my best efforts, and looking in even odder places, fruitlessly.
The right shoulder, my back and Fractured-Knee-Frank all seemed a little less painful. I soon appreciated that this was down to the Oxycodone+.

I looked them up on Google. This is what it revealed.
Oxycodone+ is an opioid medicine used to relieve severe, debilitating pain.
It is not usually recommended for the treatment of chronic (long-term) pain.
Oxycodone+ is only available with a prescription from your Doctor.
If you stop taking Oxycodone+ suddenly, you may experience withdrawal symptoms.
There are challenges associated with taking any opioid medicines, so make sure you take these medicines exactly as prescribed by your Doctor.
If you are concerned that you are becoming addicted to or dependent on Oxycodone+,  let your Doctor know so that you can get help. You can also call the National Alcohol and Other Drug Hotline (1800 250 015) for 24/7 support and treatment information.
Continue to take Oxycodone+ for as long as your Doctor tells you to. If you stop taking any brand of Oxycodone suddenly, you may experience withdrawal symptoms.
Oxycodone+ 30 mg is a high-dose, potent opioid with significant side effects. Common reactions include severe constipation, nausea, vomiting, profound drowsiness, and dizziness (I’ve had these two for years now). also headache. Serious risks include fatal respiratory depression (slowed breathing), addiction, severe low blood pressure, (Mine has gone higher?)
The higher the dose of Oxycodone+, the greater the chance that you will get side effects.
Do not take any other medicines to treat the side effects of Oxycodone+ without speaking to a pharmacist or Doctor first.
Serious side effects: Sleeping disorders, vertigo, Confusion, and muscle stiffness.
Genital itchiness or rash.
Oh, I’m glad I looked it up. Hehehe!
But it is working a treat so far.
Carer Ejaz and Mizra have both identified that my balance is much worse than usual. Both of the lads are urging me to use both sticks or the walking frame.
Bless them both. Best if I do not mention the other.

ANOTHER DISASTER!
The computer started showing a graph of needed repairs. Usually, I leave this until activities are showing, save work done, turn everything off, give it a good few minutes, and restart. Not over-technical, is it? Hehe!
The Blue-Screen-of-Death filled the monitor! I resigned myself to this. I’d was just sort of expecting it for a year or more.
I could not get anything to work at all, adding to all the work I’d lost. Then, having a mini-seizure with a series of shakes after coming out-of-it, I should have been heartbroken and suicidal… really, I ought. But, no!
Disappointed and frustrated, yes.
But a strange acceptance of the situation, almost comfortable with it. So many things are going wrong again. I cannot spend any money or get any. Little things like rent, Grammarly, WordPress, and Asda are cancelling my order. No chance of getting Asif to look at the computer when no cash is available to pay him.
I knew I was going to be in trouble even further. But knew of the mass of medication on the desk to my right was available. At that time, it was not angst or fear affecting me; it was just the only way to go. No fear about it. Then I remembered what Jenny said last time I spoke with her on the phone. She really is My Angel.
I pulled myself mentally together, as far as I could anyway, and tried to start the computer again. No chance. But I kept trying… several attempts, turning it on and off again… Google opened! But I could not get into any of the programmes or apps. Give up? No, I tried yet again. This time, when I clicked the Google icon, it appeared for a second and then disappeared three times. I turned it off and, one last time, readied myself for the end of my computer, RIP. 
Astonishingly, everything Google loaded all the apps and icons as usual, albeit they were minuscule, and could not be made bigger. Then a box appeared and disappeared within seconds. I’m sure it read something like ‘Google (something) has been updated’
Well, bugger my lugs! All was working again, although a little slower than before.

Mizra made a call; he and Ejaz are nice lads. He gave me the painkillers, then rang the bank to try and get to the bottom of why the card was frozen. Then we got an email telling us it was unfrozen and now active. Because Mizra checked on a couple, Grammarly and Norton, and both were still unable to access their dues. Of course, the usual AI waffle to get through, 0355 number, so that will have cost me about £2 a minute, plus a connection charge. Mobiles can cost up to £6 a minute! When the robot had eventually finished saying ‘I’m sorry I did not catch that (8 times), and went through a lot of passwords, favourite this or that… Mizra got to talk to a humanoid! When I needed to give permission for Mizra to speak on my behalf, I had a witty, sarcastic quip ready, but chickened out. I thought Mizra had explained things clearly, but the humanoid kept asking for confirmation of the answers given. I heard him say, “Ah, I can see what happened… then he asked Mirza to wait a while… It seemed like an hour, but it was obviously not. He came back and said the card has now been cleared. Mizra & I agreed that, with Dilan being told the same yesterday and it still being blocked, we’d wait until tomorrow to check. A wise decision, considering the bank’s failings before. 
I relaxed a little; nothing to do but wait now. Mizra will check again tomorrow evening.

I called Angel Jenny, hoping to ask her to get in touch with Asif to give him the go-ahead on the new computer… realising, as I dialled, that, with the lack of money and just a £10 note, this would not be a good idea. We nattered, somehow that gal settles me when I’m all uptight, it’s a gift, a gift from an Angel.💟 

I made a start on Monday’s blog at long last, and was making decent time with it…
ANOTHER DISASTER!
Typing away, and when I pressed for a Cap G, lines and lines of Craig ccc CraigCccccCraig filled the entire page! Well, that was the end of a short life for the fifth time, of an Amazon cheapo plug-on Keyboard. I turned the computer off again and back on, tried typing G in MS Word, CorelDraw and Google, all filled up with lines and lines of Craig ccc Craig cccCraig. 
I had a look at the first abandoned Amazon cheapo keyboards. All with the keys printed incorrectly, except for the first black-and-grey one, whose key numbers were so small that I found it difficult and time-consuming to use. By now, I had to try it again to see if it worked, and it did. With my eyes getting worse than ever, it’s so hard to use. At times. near impossible!

The Carer’s times are now varying a lot. I had asked for a list of their ETAs as a guide. All these changes are getting me out of sync and confused.

Ejaz came this time, nice to see him again. I’ve got this on my reminder pad: 152 – 233 13. I wonder why?

Carer Nizra did the last call. Helped me cook a meal. The computer had long been abandoned.
Medications, and left me eating 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.

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Afternoon Shots I missed, Tsk!
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🤎 Can’t finish. Eyes are too bad. Cheers each.🤎

Inchie Today: Thursday 19th March 2026

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06:15hrs: The rib injury was bad to start with. Large intakes of breath, coughing, laughing, all hurt. Pouch taken off. I took a snap of the morning kitchen view.
Any of the following may be out of sync, for vagarity and confusion spread their wings. Until , when the electrical and technological problems all arrived one after the other. I panicked and rang Jenny, my Angel, to ask her to please call the computer man in the morning. As per usual, her logic and understanding were perfect. She read the stress in my voice. Calmly telling me to turn everything off until morning and try again. Which I did, and it came back on. Albeit with different, too small icons that I struggle to see. At least now I can cross my fingers (well, I can’t actually, but I can figuratively) and see how it goes.
Thanks to Jenny. 🤎

Whatever is under my man breast that appeared yesterday, the top picture taken by my Carer Ejaz, this morning, showed a great improvement, and the bleeding had stopped altogether. I can’t say the same for the rib cracking. This remains a blinding, blooming nuisance. I can’t see any bruising at all. But when it happened, I was bending to retrieve a dropped remote, and felt pain and heard a sort of grinding noise. I think it must have been a rib causing the problem. It is the same today (Fri), the slightest bend, stretch, even when I press down on the walking stick it hurts. Yet not moving, sitting down, unless I stretch my arm out or up, there is no bother? Which is excellent, because I’ve got a Little Inchies fungal lesion going through agony as well, from the refitted Catheter tube.  
No more moans, I promise: well, I’ll try. Haha!

Belatedly made a start on Wednesday’s blog. Talk about a backlog, I’ve got an ever-increasing backlog of backblog blogs to do. 😄

Carer Rashid changed the leathery, crocodile-like legs. Well, more ankles now. Foamed them and rubbed in ointment in the cracks.

The sun broke through as it rose behind the prison, offering me a photo opportunity. Oh, prison? I meant to write block of flats. Or did I?

Ejaz was pleased with how the hand injury was now healing and was now awaiting the scab to fall off.
He offered to pick it off for me, jokingly, of course.

Then the computer froze!
First, as I was in CorelDraw, which often does this to me. I knew it would not let me save the work I’d done. Depressing, more time lost! I could not close the programme either. Cursing and praying it would come back on, I turned off the power. 
Gave it ten minutes or so, and rebooted.

Opened CorelDraw… message told me this file is not saveable – you can work on it, but not save your work – something like that. So, I closed it again.

Then I turned off the computer properly and restarted Windows. What a mess. All the widows’ desktop icons were so minuscule that it was impossible to identify which was which. All off again.

All on Again. The icons were even smaller this time. I upended CorelDraw, this time it opened the last edited without any warning messages… Ahahaha! Great.
An hour later, all the things became unresponsive, bar the mousse, but clicking on anything on the CorelDraw page produced various different, some never been seen before options, but never the binding box.
I decided that I’d close CorelDraw down, and ring Angel Jenny to ask her to call Asif, the computer man, for me, as this problem, or I should add solution, was well out of my reach. I opened Google to search for advice…
ARRGH!
I could not input any text in the search bar at all!
Clicking to open programme icons, nothing!

I turned everything off again and walked away.
I was distraught to say the least. Angry, Frustrated, Sorry-for-myself… pathetic really.
Depression grew even stronger now. I felt so low, and yet I took two photographs as I wandered hobblingly around the cell… no… the flat.
My mind went from raging to almost crying, and a loathsome self-hatred joined in. I felt what I was, I’m afraid, so sad!

Later, after a good while of musing and confusing myself, I returned to the computer. I knew it was not going to work, yet still I gave it a go. Huh!
This time, the desktop icons were all over the place, and still too tiny to identify. I tried Google, Notepad, Corel ’rotten’ Draw, and MS Word. And the screens started to shudder a little. But this could have been due to Galucoma Glady’s, Cataract Katie, or my being in such an uptight condition, my Neurotransmitters. Turned everything off yet again and left it. 

I called Jenny 🤎 to ask her to please contact Asif for me. The connection was not good; I struggled with the fast speech and an echo on the line.
I think Jen advised me to turn everything off, which I had been doing for the last three hours, Hahaha! Jenny said she leaves hers off overnight, and it can come back on in the morning. I felt so tense, so I decided to do that and try it in the morning.

To keep my mind off of the computer, I got the meal prepped. Ejaz called and served it up. But it feels all wrong eating with someone sitting there on their mobile phone, making a report. Nothing wrong with it, but for years I’ve lived and eaten on my own, and the habit of eating while watching a TV programme is part of my way of preparing for sleep, I suppose. Also, I forgot to take a photo of the nosh.

After finishing the meal, after Ejaz left, saying he would lock the door for me, bless him, I went to wash the pots, and just had to take these snaps of the latter part of the sunset.
A warmth emanated from the view, with maybe perhaps including a hint of a threat? 

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Can it get any worse?
Have I been given a curse?
Why am I penning this verse?
Cause my problems are diverse?
BrainStorm, thinking in Morse?.
Who can help with my annoyances?
Starmer, Einstein or Zeus?
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TTFN
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Inchie: Thurs 5th Mar 26 – Busy, Confusing Day

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Sorry, but today’s busy planned and unplanned schedule was stored in my reminder notepad, but much of it is unreadable because so many things happened straight after one another. Things may be of of sync chronologically; some may be missing; some I hazarded a smidgen of guesswork to identify. It did not help with the activities of the day ending so late. Meaning I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Friday morning, after the Carers had been, and a one-hour failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. I’ll have to shorten a few of the event details, partly due to my inability to decipher certain words, and the cataracted eye deciding to give me foggy-bother so early in the morning. Plus, if I tried Roget it in its usual humour-traitedness, I would not have time to get it done by Friday or Saturday…
I’m waffling again, sorry about that.
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0650hrs: Got the night pouch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning. Jaut one long, unpainful, ‘thought it would never end’ flow of wet mud.
Got the kettle on, then the computer and Carer Dilan arrived. As he sorted the medications, he asked me if we had any more Bosoprolol to hand. I went into the kitchenette to check on the Carer’s Medicine Drawer. Spotted a packet of Beta-Blockers, noticing that it had been opened. As I took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
I was trying to stop Dilan from worrying about the shortage, not that he seemed in the slightest bit bothered. He gave me the morning medications… now, in the past, I have been known not to take them. Ejaz & Mirzra always make sure I have, and have seen me do it.
After Dilan had gone, I saw them in the pot, tipped them out onto the memory pad, and took them. I know I get confused, but something told me there were not as many tablets as usual. That would be toying with me. I do get confused at times, usually after one of my rare, ‘With-it-Moments’. Which I had when noticing the tablet shortage.

I got WordPress opened, ready to start the blog, and Matron (I think) came in, always glad to see her. A few general questions, then she carried out a Memory Test. Read out a name & address. Matron asked me what time it was, and I looked at the computer clock without thinking and told her. A broad smile, followed by a mild ticking of later, she continued. Hahaha!
I can’t remember everything, but counting the months backwards, no, the alphabet, was beyond me. I feel a little ashamed. Or was it numbers backwards? I forget now. And my handwriting in the notes was abysmal; I think I was writing too fast to keep up with the prompts.
Another one I failed on was what month it is, without any doubt, and with complete confidence, I said February. To find out later, when Matron pointed out that I was wrong and had scored highly on the memory test. Which I thought was a good thing, and a grin spread across my face, a smug look about to erupt. But it was the opposite, and not a very good score. I’ll be referred elsewhere for further tests.
Carer Dilan arrived on his second call, and this reminded me about the missing medications, Beta-Blockers. Matron spoke with Dilan about sorting and finding out if they are coming and when. I’ve heard nothing yet.
Several lines of indecipherable rubbish on the page here. Eight of them. Not the foggiest idea, but they were in the Matron’s visiting timeline.
Matron mentioned that I had a little brain injury. I think she said it was a TBI.

But I’m not certain now. I’m sure it was a TBI. I thought the surgeon said they had found water on my brain, NPI, was it CSF? Then again, come to think of it now, CSF, TBI? I could be wrong. I have been known to get things confused lately.
Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

Jenny 🌸💜 appeared with her ingenious collapsible chair and handed me some Hills Shortie biscuits she had bought for me. She was aware that this brand of shortcake bickies was soft enough not to bother . A  sweetheart she is. She’s helped get me noticed by calling Age UK and getting the ball rolling on assessing and determining whether I’m eligible for extra help. She advises me with logical, coherent tips and dos and don’ts. 🎀 Understands exactly how my disabilities affect me. And is the only person to do so, about the seizures. She also offered help when the Carers cannot find time to do the laundry. Bless her Cotton Socks! X
Mind you, Jenny used to work in a hospital.

Then, Jake from the Nottingham City Council,  erm.. er… I’ll look it up on the mobile… Got it!
The Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services. He went through both of my large boxes of files and saved paperwork. It took him ages; all were out of date, of course. It’s not up to date cause the Carer’s stopped storing them for me, not enough time to do them, but I hadn’t realised. He spent ages with me, trying to find proof of various pensions and banking details. He had to call Royal Insurance, which gave him a number for Cooperative Insurance, which the Royal had taken over. So, he rang them, all long-winded and proof of everything needed before progressing. Somehow, he eventually managed to get the details from the Cooperative Insurance. Then rang Royal Insurance back with any details he’d gathered from the Cooperative Insurance. Then needed further proof from my bank, and had to ring them again. Apparently, they are going to send me a written statement by post, and I’m to call Jake at the Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services, send him a photo or copy, and then he can progress with assessing my validation to get help. Haven’t I already told you all this? I hope not.

The day had now gone, and night was falling. My eyes were fading, and my frustrations were raging.

Ejaz and the training Carer arrived, and I can’t recall if anything worth mentioning happened. I was baffled by all that was going on; I think my brain gave up on me. I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.

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As I fell asleep at the computer, I dreamt of the skies turning to stone. Ice was forming all over the planet, and as the globe began to crack, I woke with a start and hurt my back. The Inner-Voice Spoke to me, in a smarmy, crude manner, saying: “You think yesterday and today were crap? – Hehe,  just you wait until tomorrow!”
I didn’t cry. But I thought about it!
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Fair Thee All Well!
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Inchie Today: Friday 28th November 2025

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Another day of gaffes, mishaps, & Accifauxpas. I suppose that these were the cause, reason, for the non-appearance of my beloved and much missed . And the, dragging-me-down surfeit of .
Assisted by Dastardly Dementia Doreen, letting me down so often, and causing irritations, frustrations, making the day seem to go as fast as a month would. One thing after another.
Only increased the mental mayhem.

05:10hrs: I jerked awake,   I took the catheter bag off and, seeing the state of the day bag on the leg, made a mental note to ask a Carer why it had not been changed for three weeks; it should be, and was at one time, done weekly as the nurses instructed. This seems to have been forgotten about lately. My fault as much as the Carers’, I keep forgetting to ask them if they can do it. But with the times cut back, they would not get the other jobs done if they changed the bag as well. Frustrations of the day started here.

I hobbled into the kitchen to check on the taps, cupboards and fridge doors, nothing amiss. (Honestly) 

I took a couple of snaps of the view on offer from the kitchen windows. As you see, they didn’t exactly come out very well. In fact, they were atrocious. Off to the wetroom to make an early start on the . These did not go very well this morning. Starting with the first job on the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence burst forth a dollop of watery, smelly, yellowish mush! I cleaned up and went to get the toothpaste, toothbrush and mouthwash ready to use – I didn’t make it; I rushed back to the porcelain and only just in time, as another near liquid burst forth into the WC bowl. This time, I remained seated, and sure enough, two minutes later, a third evacuation of the same ilk squirted out. Cleaned up again and back to get the teeth-cleaning pot… dropped it on the floor as I felt the rear-end evacuation on its way… Again! Same routine, and back to the teeth cleaning. I was a little miffed with the diarhorrea back once more, and was a little overkeen with the toothbrush. The gums hurt, but they did not bleed too much. I was putting the stuff back in the pot, and after yet another sitting down, a messy session on the Porcelain Throne – Even I find this could not be happening! But, it was!
Started shaving. By the time I’d finished, I began to struggle to stop the three teeny-weeny cuts from bleeding. I had to put a plaster on my chin, but it stopped leaking later. As did the evacuations… eventually. Just as I was squeezing the Germaloid tube onto some gauze,
 burst forth with a short, sharp, costly hand and finger shaking session. I couldn’t release my grip on the just-opened tube of Germalloid Ointment, and it shot out about 95% onto the floor and the wall. Poor old paid the price in pain.
Then, as I was getting the new protection pants on, I lost my balance, and with some quick but stupid reaction to avoid a tumble, I hastily plopped my overweight bum on the toilet seat – which worked. Realising as I gingerly got back up on my feet, I could feel the blood running down the back of my leg. 
What a bleed it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids!
I ripped off the pants at the tear-points, and got the blood cleaned up from the floor, my leg and foot.

Frustrations of the day continue…

Then had to battle against my nervousness to get another pair of PPs on! 
I got the Health Checks done and recorded on the board, then made a brew of Typhoo Extra Strong tea. Updated the calendar.

I was washing the mug, and Carer Manprett arrived. She thought I’d just had a seizure, but didn’t say why she felt that. Gave me a body check. Barrier cream, Phorpain Gelled the lower back and both knees. Medications issued. And said she wanted to call me ‘Bapu’. That is “Dad” or “Grandad” in Pakistani-English; I looked it up later. Bless her. She also checked that the HC figures were written correctly – I’d made one cock-up with the temperature. Tsk!

Frustrations of the day continue…

I spent three hours on the replacement word listings! No blog work done at all yet. Humph! 
Carer Mirza arrived. He took the replacement TV remote out of the bag, and as I was telling him not to press the red button, he did before I asked. Well, that seemed to be the end of any hope of getting Virgin TV back on. The lad did not have time to fuss with it. Mirza said for me to ask Ejaz on Wednesday. He had to rush off. Can’t be helped. But I got the feeling they had no time to do anything. And with the day catheter pouch not being replaced for weeks… a little disappointed, and shamefully sorry for missen!

Frustrations of the day continue…

I managed to finish yesterday’s blog and send it off. Decided to celebrate with another mug of tea.

Started again, the ndanged short-as-a-flash ones that leave me of sync & balance. Spent a lot more time recovering than having seizures.

Frustrations of the day continue…

When I did finally get to the kitchenette, I found I’d left the hot faucet running again! Kicked in, not had much bother from her for a week or so; still, she has as much right as any other ailment.

Noticing how heavy it was raining, after making the brew, I went out onto the balcony to take some shots through the glass… the rain was pouring in through the front windows. The wheeled walkers and two wheelchairs were soaked… I got a bit wet taking the photographs. (Haha!) I had to take off the dressing gown & kaghoule & put them on the airers to dry.
Back on the balcony to take some more photographs of the rain.
This one came out a little better than the others, so I tried to get some to the left side of the balcony.
Pointing down at the car park opposite Winwood Heights block of flats.
This one was taken straight ahead to the left of the balcony. Back on the computer, and I got a call on the landline phone, it was from the Doctor’s surgery. Informing me that the hospital had changed the Ramipril Capsules from 15g to 10g, I think he said. Two years ago, I was on 30g. They did the same with the Phorpain Gel: started at 30%, then 15%, and now 10%.

Along with saving the NHS money on them, as they did in cancelling my Glaucoma operation, and I’m now virtually blind in my left eye, not one of the five promised offers of help when I was in hospital has arrived. The neurologist who saw me about the seizures wanted a photo of me in one… it took two weeks, but much-missed Carer Nimra took a video, and Carer Ejaz helped sort out how to send it via email to the Doctor, who has not been in touch at all. Adding Herr Goldenballs Starmer’s robbing us pensioners of the winter fuel allowance, I reckon they’ve made a profit out of me, and pissed me off!

Frustrations of the day continue…

At long last, I got around to starting this blog. I was interrupted by the last visit of the day to the
!

After the last evacuation of the day (this is a bit misleading, cause I was up until gome 03:00hrs doing this blog, and had to pay another early morning visit), I had to get the mop and bucket out to clean and freshen the floor of blood and a few splashes from Trotsky Terence’s activities. As I tugged at the mop, which had got caught in the wheel of the trolley, it shot up. I hit myself in the face with it!

Frustrations of the day continue…

The result was agony from .
I often write these quips about my luck, just for a bit of humour, tongue in cheek, getting into the proceedings.

The mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I’m thinking after this week’s, especially today’s cock-ups & go wrongs, they all might be true! Hehehe!

I started cooking the meal of the day. Oven chips, Polish kielbasa, and beetroot. I got the oven on and set the mobile phone alarm for 25 minutes, when the chips should be cooked. Then a fatal decision was taken… I thought I’d do a little word list updating.
An hour into it, and I smelt the burning chips! No idea why I didn’t hear the mobile alarm go off… (I likely set it wrong, it’s the first time I’ve tried to use it… and the last time, too!) I salvaged most of the chips, another bad decision that was… they were so hard I had to soak them with vinegar to eat them, and started the gums bleeding. I got them eaten, well, no, not all of them.
Suddenly, as I was standing up to take and wash the dishes…

Frustrations of the day continue…

Carer Dilan arrived. I mentioned that no one had been changing my day bag for three weeks, and he laughed. I don’t think he was being rude at all, just didn’t understand what I was saying. Which is fair enough, I couldn’t understand what he was saying later. I said my farewells, then went to clean out and antiseptise my mouth from the bleeding gums.

I stopped for a few minutes of quietism: another mistake! All I achieved from it was feeling more deeply depressed at how life is going. The best Carers have had their calls on me reduced; one does not call at all nowadays. Can anyone tell me if CDB helps with depression?
I’ll look it up… Nope!

Well, well, well, (and I’m not well, Haha!) early hours of the morning now, and believe it or not, I’ve just found bleeding from Little Inchy. Best I can guess, it’s coming from either the tube or the fungal lesion. Going to need help with this one. How embarrassing! 
Always the weekend when summat needs attention!

Frustrations of the day continue…

Not a lot worse than many other days lately.
But everything has got to me more today.
I’ve ordered some St John’s Wort capsules.
Once a day, read all the reviews; it might work.
Then I checked on Google…
Too dangerous to take with Warfarin!
I’ve tried to cancel it. They say they will try, but it may be too late! (I only ordered it ten minutes ago!) Hope they do/can stop it.

Frustrations of the day continue…

So tired, and it’s 04:00hrs now. But I want to look at the WP Reader, and I did. 
KITTY OF THE DAY – ANDY

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What a day!

Inchie. Mon/Tue/Wed 24/25/26th Nov 25

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

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I had a theme for my Ode to relate,
My body needs my brain to cooperate,
It talks to itself – rubbish, bletherskate,
My dream? In a cave, the walls began to corruscate,
I was with someone, a Carer, lover and old mate?
As he/she started on me, to lambaste & berate…
Its body faded, it began to loudly cachinate…  
Folks from my past appeared, as a conglomerate,
Hands in hands, they issued me looks of hate,
Then howled out loud, they did not abate…
I cooked roast potatoes, one on each plate,
I wanted to talk, welcome them, hospitate…
The howling temporarily stopped, as they ate,
Telling me I was a terrible ingrate?
Dark Dank Depressing Darius began to inumbrate,
The cave grew cold, and I began to sudate,
Saying out loud, “What the Hell’s going on, mate?”
Dead relatives came, their intentions vulnerate,
They came towards me, starting to ululate,
I tried to stroke, touch them, to vellicate…
I think they may have escaped via St Peter’s gate,
Their bodies began to rapidly deteriorate…
They started to dissolve, one by one, demoniacal! 
Is this real, happening, or maybe notional?
One went ashen, pasty, anaemic, demonical…
One shrank to nothing, all absorbable,
One cursed & swore at me, all abuseable!
Then exploded. Like a bursting bubble,
One blew me a kiss and said I was adorable.
I tried to hug her, but she was not touchable…
A ghostess, how can she be damageable?
She burst into flames, so she was destructible,
One turned to glass,  she was vitrifiable…
Then found out she was also smashable,
An eerie hum all around started to bominate,
Then the nightmare… morningmare did vacate…
07:00hrs, by gum, I did sleep in late,
Fell off the bed, what’s next to tribulate?
The dream ending might compensate.
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But and however…
This blog was not started until Thursday evening. Wednesday & Thursday were not good for me, but Monday was not too bad at all.
Tuesday was troubled with many mini-seizures, each one with not good after-effects, which took a lot out of me, I’m afraid. Concentration was just not there, many accifauxpas, and
Dawned that regularly, each one seemed deeper than it really was. Tuesday is best forgotten anyway, so the lack of photos or memories of what happened explains the lack of detail in the scrawny Tuesday section. 
Wednesday’s cock-ups ensured me that , bless him, he was again a frequent visitor. Many things will be out of sync and order, sorry. Last night’s lack of sleep, due to
And his ranting, perpetual criticisms of yours truly, made any proper sleep an impossibility. At least the seizures, only two, were lengthy. I judge from the ease and the incredibly short time it took me to recover each time.
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I gave up trying to sleep. Assuming it was about 04:00hrs, but soon found out, after taking of the night bag and going to the wet room to tackle the morning ablutionalisationings… as Carer Manpreet came in it to the flat, that it was actually gone 07:00hrs! WE got the Health Checks done & recorded, and the medications were issued.

Calendar changed, tea brewed.

Morrison order.
Moved them into the kitchen.
Treats!
Favourites.
Fridge loaded.

Afternoon seizures.

Evening shot.


Memory, Jet Black Blank
Seizures were having a heyday.

Morning shot, I think.

Evening shot, I think.

Just a guess at this rating.

Another stormy night’s sleep. If it wasn’t for my taking a bashing from , I may well have still been in bed when the Carer came again.
I decided to force my reluctant body from the bed, primarily, to get a painkiller, to counter the pain from Shirley’s worst-ever night-attack. 
I didn’t make it. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it wasn’t long. I could tell after it was all over by the acid reflux coming up in my chest, throat, mouth, and nose, and it was taking so long for me to recover fully. Although, to be honest, I don’t think I did get back to normal, if anything about me can be called normal, (Hehe!) Until 17:00hrs, or so.
My plan, formulated this morning, was to get things ready for when Ejaz arrives, go with me to the opticians, and then do as much as I could in the time left, working on the replacement word list.

Carer Manpreet arrived, and she checked that the HC return figures had been recorded correctly. Medications were given. A gaping blank spot in my memory. I assume I’d had a seizure, but Manpreet didn’t tell me… or I didn’t hear or remember her saying. The state I was in after each one today is no surprise. I got on with the word listings for an hour or two. To my utter amazement, an Asda delivery arrived. What? Another food delivery? Beats and worried me.
Cheesey cobs. cheesey wriggles, and some iced bread rolls. I tried to gain access to my vacant memory void, to work out when and why.
Come to think of it, I may have got the delivery days wrong, sort of back to way, on the wrong days. They may have been the other way around. Or, not.
Topped up with waters of various types. It’s costly having to keep swigging a minimum of three litres every day to keep the bladder working.
Meat pies with shortcrust and puff pastry tops. Polish cooked smoked ham, Nurses drinkies, and some bacon bits, erm… lardons they are called.
Blimus, I’ve got the fridge and freezer crammed full again. But of course, the social lady promised me help with this problem. Also, with the finances, when I get home from the hospital. Assured me of help with the ‘spent a fortune’ on wheelchairs… getting them appropriately fitted and safe to use. 
Age Concern said… Oh, forget them. I’ve not heard anything from any of them! I’m disappointed and feeling a smidge uncared about, to say the least.

Carer Mizra, then Carer Ejaz, arrived. Mizra departed after medicating me and seeing that things were alright. Ejaz and I got down to the Opticians only to find that we had arrived too late and they could not test my eyes. Ejaz dealt with the receptionist, and they made another appointment for next Wednesday. How we got the wrong time beats me. Ejaz has always taken care of them for me. Sadly, my eyes are getting worse, and later I checked on the HHS site – bad news. It said that if you do not catch it in time, it cannot be repaired. Great! Now it will be another week before the test, and the optician can refer me to the EENT! 
The eye is getting worse each day, and I’m struggling at times. Nothing new there then.
Ejaz and I returned to the flat, and he put the laundry in the washer. Mopped the kitchen for me, and went to get the laundry into the dryer, and realised it had not finished washing. So left it until his subsequent call to collect it for me. Off he went; he’d done the best he could on my behalf.

I pressed on with the word listings, and Ejaz returned to fetch the laundry for me, and he hung it up on hangers. Night medications given.

I started making a template up for this 3-day blog… and realised it was gone 23:00hrs! 

Better get something to eat.

🤎 TTFNski! 🤎

Inchie Today: Thursday 30th October 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I can reveal to you what lies ahead…
More wars, millions of innocents dead,
Millions born, who can’t afford to be fed,
Sheltering in the gutter, they have no bed,
Compassion will soon be exhausted,
Crooked leaders will be acquiesced,
Putin’s underwater nuclear weapon test,
Trump claims his will be the best…
Starmer issues teachers with a stab vest,
Victims remain alone, uncounseled, 
UK’s PM Starmer is so uncredentialled, 
But he got in power, the voters were fooled,
His lies have gone all unattributed,
His robbing of pensioners is unappreciated,
His future will be undiverted…
By truth, honesty, he’ll stay subverted,
His lies seem to be accommodated…
And still he’ll get backhanded!
His actions will not be totally whitewashed, 
In a short time, humankind will be kyboshed,
The world will be aureoled…
The planet is destroyed; well, it is getting old,
Going to the moon to escape may be attempted,
But there’s no point, you may be annoyed…
But our Universe will also be destroyed,
Leaving a rather large void,
Could it be rebuilt by a Martian Zoid?
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Up at 05:00hrs, and hastily removed the night catherter bag, and even hastlier fumbled my way to the wet for a Canstipation Konrad evacuation, I’d managed to get a little cut on my finger somehow, so ran it under the tap and dried it off, then got down on the plastic seat of the Porcelain Throne.
It took me ages to force things out, and a couple of rock-hard follow-ups.

Friday morning: Got up, cleaned the mess in the kitchen, then opened WordPress.
ARRRGH! 
All the blog had partly disappeared, except for up to ‘rock-hard follow-ups’ on the page! ???
I’ve not got the heart to do it all again. Hours of work lost – along with the mini-disasters, which I will put on again, but not in so much detail.
I’ll start them here; the photos are out of sync.

Just a drop of urine overnight?

The mug of tea to see,
Ended up on the floor.
Via my dressing
Gown, knee & me!

No photo for this one —the second-most-annoying of the day. I was tired, it was late, and I’d still not done the ablutions due to my repugnant habit of leaving the hot tap running. I was making up some Catheter Cathy spring water, and picked up the grapefruit juice to add to it… I dropped the bottle, and I don’t think there was any part of the kitchen floor that didn’t get a taste of the fruit cordial as it spread.
No less than four kitchen rolls were dropped on the juice, in hopes of containing it.
I tried treading on it to help soak up the juice and collect some from the floor.
Paracetamol, Codeine and fizzy Paracetamol followed. And I had to cope with , from all the bending down. I almost, nearly, well, thought about going into a . But after I’d emptied the catheter pouch and returned to the kitchen, the floor was so sticky that it had to be mopped. After mopping, it was still sticky, and I almost lost a slipper as it stuck to the floor! I used a vinegar-based spray on the floor, and gently dropped some paper towels down. I left it to hopefully dry unstickily before making a meal.

Deciding the floor must be checked, I thought I’d make a brew of tea if the floor was dry and not sticky. It was tacky. I kept to the right of the kitchen—the less messy bit—to make the tea…
Joined in with , with affecting my right hand, I crushed and then dropped the packet on the floor. Genuflecting again to pick them all up, I’d got about 80% of them, then realised they could well have come into contact with the bleach, vinegar and floor cleaner that I’d been using on the tiles! I threw them away, not wanting to risk using them.

I took a snap of the view from the window
as I prepped the meal of the day.

I fell asleep while eating the meal and was woken by Carer Mirza, who needed to be admitted.
A nice lad. I mentioned the visit to the Neurosurgeon and gave him my mobile. I asked Mirza if he could read it and tell me how I should respond. Which he did, and I followed, and a minute later, I got an email thanking me for replying. After Mirza had departed, with my thanks for helping, I received another message from Neurosurgery.
They will post me details and instructions along with an appointment number (needed if I am to use the Hospital Transport).

Carer Ejaz did the last call and read the message just received. Hopefully, the letter with the necessary details will arrive in time for me (Well, a Carer) to book a lift with Hospital transport.

Another Almost Typical Day, Humph!


MAY FORTUNE FAVOUR YOU!