Carer Ejaz Body check

Inchie Today: Saturday 18th October 2025

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THE RAW POTATO
Why is it here, beside a worm & a centipede?
He’s told his mother was but a seed,
In his short life, he’s never peed,
Rained on, yes, and he got very soiled,
From his birth home, he was roughly freed,
His family was thrown in a tractor and stored,
Being a big spud, he was selected to be baked…
But Inchie liked him, and he was adopted…
It changed his life forever as the oven heated,
Potato’s essence was to be adulterated…
Destined to be beaten up with cheese & roasted!
But a change of mind, Inchie decided…
Out came a knife, Potty was segmentated…
Sliced, and he was cruelly cut up & chipped!
THE BURNT CHIP
Potato was cut up and thrown into the air fryer,
His skin gone, his shape did alter…
Talk about hot, but it didn’t matter…
His life had not seen laughter or glamour,
Just inactivity, gore, mud, creepy-crawlies galore,
No one to talk to, no bother with any computer,
Not that this mattered anymore…
Burned to a crisp, dried out, but he felt sure…
Inchie would still try to eat him out of hunger,
He’s obviously a gannet, who’s eating more & more,
He’s talking to himself, as he commits potato murder!
Sure enough, he bit into a chip; moreover…
Toothache Tiffany gave out agony from her molar…
As Chip slid down Inchies throat, he did agjure…
To the ‘Potato God’ to make Inchies pain more…
Sure enough, he had a dizzy spell; he fell on the floor,
A crumpled heap, realising this Ode is pure aporia…
From this Odester, fantasiser and wool-gatherer,
Off he drifted to the gates of St Peter…
Who said: Hello, here comes an old, bald meshuggener!
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Five hours of sleep, continuing the slow increase in sleep time gathered over the last five days. I believe the problems might have been my being on the Amoxicillin. The assessed nightly hours of much-needed slumber have been: 
Mon 0, Tues 0, Wed 0, Thurs 4,  Fri 5.
So, it’s going in the right direction.
I believe Hitler thought the same thing on his way to the Russian front. Haha!

05:10hrs: I gently woke up, and that doesn’t happen often, and nodded back asleep almost immediately.
06:15hrs; I woke with the usual jerking around for a few seconds, and forced my legs off of the bed, to make sure I got up this time. As I was taking off the mocturnal catheter pouch, I estimated I’d had five hours of kip. Good! 
Remembered to do the balance exercises for once, and all seemed fair. The only problem I could detect was the left leg’s Catheter, Chloe, which was faux-giving way a few times. She was the same all day. The last thing I want or need is to have another tumble. I think the fear of hospitalisation again is making me more wary. 
I poddled out on the balcony, and took two snaps of the progress made on the Nottingham City Council’s tarmacing of the old gravel path up to the Woodthorpe GrangesPark.
This one, taken on the right, both through the glass windows, was of the Citrus Way end car park. Can you see something different in it? No little red car on the chevrons!

Off to the Porcelain Throne.
For another wet and splurty evacuation, this time nearly caught me out with a second watery torrent splurting out a few seconds after the slodgy-wet first one. Back to the junk room to start the computer, and with five minutes, I was on my way back to the Porcelain Throne. Another wet and over-willing affair, but no follow-up.

I got the update done on the Friday blog and posted it to WordPress. Then made a start in this template I’d already prepped. Fingers crossed, I haven’t made any foul-ups this time with it.

As I opened CorelDraw, it was always a risky business. The damned thing nearly always has something wrong with the first opening of it. This week, as I recall, one day it opened with all the right-hand dockers not showing. Pallets, Text, Transform, Glyphs, and Colour had to be put back on manually. Then, on Tuesday, I think, an error email report opened up while loading. It wouldn’t let me fill it in or close it, so I had to force a shutdown and reload from scratch. It cost me so much memory that I had to use CCleaner, which found two ‘vital’ updates that needed to be installed. Clicked on Install, and was told after a few minutes, “Unable to install”. Huh! 
Then on Thursday, CorelDraw froze while writing text, well, making a border for the text. All off again, gave in a few minutes and rebooted. Huh!
Then it told me several fonts were unavailable!

I made a mug of Redbush Rooibos tea, and Googled the tea’s properties, benefits and side effects. I gave the box of bags to Carer Ejaz to put in the laundry for someone ot pick it up. Apparently, if you are on Warfarin, you should give it a wide berth. So that was that, a lovely flavourful taste as well.  

Carer Ejaz gave me a good going over. Medications. Body check. Hoovered. Foamed & barrier-creamed various ailments as needed.

I was working on this blog.
Suddenly, I found myself lying on the top of the bed, wondering how I got there. The computer was on and had gone into sleep mode. I estimate I’d been there for around two hours. I was so confused, I couldn’t remember why I thought it was two hours, now.
But Ejaz had just arrived for his second call. A short one, and he was asking about the two upcoming hospital visits. I think he said he could not go with me to the hospital on either. The first one, next Wednesday, was too early for him to help. And the second one was on a Thursday. Which was concerning, I think. Cause they will be asking someone who knows what I do when in a seizure to explain to them. How can I, when I can recall noting of the seizures, all I can tell them are the after-effects that I get.
Then again, I was feeling confused when we spoke. I’ll try to clarify the situation when Ejaz returns tonight around 17:45hrs. If I remember to.

I’m going to get my ablutions done now.
Porcelain Throne first, Trotsky Terence again.
Toothache Tiffany’s Teggies were painfully cleaned.
Not a single cut in shaving!  
Fractured knee, Catheter Chloe, Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder Shirley, and Twitching Neck Nicolas were all Phorpain gelled. Flabby Tubby Tummy Timmy, Underarm Herbert, Man Breasts Boris, and Two-Testicles-Thomas were barrier creamed & foamed. Blephergelled and dry eye sprayed Glaucoma Glady’s eyes. Nasal spray was sprayed. Then the seriously hurtful job of cleaning and medicating poor Little Inchies’ Fungal lesions was tackled. With very little oohing and arghing, although a curse word or two did slip out.  
I remembered this time to put the barrier cream on top of the Terbifine Hydrochloride.

Giant potato baked and halved. Sliced the flesh, salted and no-butter butter dolloped in.
Very tasty. There I was, with the meal balanced on my conveniently big-enough belly, eating away and watching a recorded TV Heartbeat episode, and wallowing in almost joy and contentment…
In came a landline call. I struggled to get up to the phone without spilling any of the gorgeously tasty nosh. It was Sister Jane, and he was most upset, almost annoyed!
After Nottingham Forest’s 0-3 defeat to Chelsea, Manager Ange Postecoglou was sacked, minutes after another defeat. The poor gal was distraught! Also, this defeat dropped Nottingham Forest into the relegation bottom three teams! I returned to the now cold meal, well, what was left of it. Unfortunately, the potato husks had hardened too much and were upsetting. I’ll ring Jane in the morning to see how she is, poor gal.

Later, I was trying to take some photos of the night sky, but my efforts were rather dismal;
As you can see here, Tsk!
AS I was taking them, Carer Ejaz arrived on his last call. And came to the rescue, taking this one on his super-camera’d mobile phone.
I read that Tim Price uses a cell phone. He takes many great night shots with his camera.
https://offcenternoteven.com/2025/10/16/owl-sighting/#comment-153634

I think I’m not steady enough to hold the camera still.

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Inchie Today: Tuesday 26th August 2025

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Parts of this Ode may reveal emotion,
Inchie wrote it as a sort of antidepression,
It didn’t work, but it gave him indigestion,
I expect he’ll lose concentration & attention,
He apologises for bits that underwent abscission,
And those that he missed from inclusion,
And his concentrations lack of addression,
Nowadays, he struggles to master delineation,
He searches for a cure-all, a diacatholicon…
Hoping he may retrieve his moyo, that’s long gone,
His nousse used to be like a mental dzong-jong,
Defending against disagreement and dissension,
He seeks not gold, fame, fortune or Zircon…
But fears his medications may bring zombification,
Scared that his dementia will create vilification,
No confidence left, he touches would for unberufen,
He recalls that his life has never been utopian…
Aware his thoughts, body, & brain don’t work in verbatim,
Lost his desires, he’s become an anythingarian,
Prays, hopes, pleads, begs; as a futilitarian,
His ageing body and brain have no synchronisation,
His understanding shows significant misinterpretation,
What he gleans usually includes jealousy & effluvium,
His own thoughts need elucidation or interpretation,
Yet, taking in all the considerations…
Along with his countless medications…
He knows this world is totally free of perfectibilians,
Oligarchs claim to be, and there are millions,
Inchie finds it easier to mix with the minions,
He gives his ailments a twice-daily examination,
A daily battle, vs confusing seizures & depression…
I think he’s hoping that life is just an illusion.
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I woke up later than I have done this year. It was 06:55hrs! No time to get my ablutions done before a Carer was likely to arrive. Still, I lay there and nodded off again. Waking at 07:15hrs, cursing, and forcing myself out of bed, most reluctantly and disinterestedly than I have ever been on any morning before. I bent down to take off the nocturnal bag and found it wasn’t on. But the much smaller day pouch was bloated, and once I moved, it was painful. Some foul language was emitted.

I plodded into the kitchen and got the Detox bag in a mug, awaiting the water in the kettle to boil. Then I steeped the bag. This type needed a 30-minute steep. So, I took the chance and visited the Porcelain Throne. Another Trotsky Terence torrent followed. Messily!
I took some morning shots:
Three red cars this morning.
Sky shot to the north.
Then to the South East. I took them within a minute of each other, and I could see how the colouring had changed so quickly.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Did a good job for me. Medications. He antispeticated the eankles for me, then fitted my diabetic socks. A quick body check and some barrier creaming. And the lad was ready to go, but not before I took a photo of him for this blog. He posed like a professional model! Handsome bute! Oh, and Ejaz took a snap of the much better-looking healing ankles.

Within half an hour of turning on the computer, an immediate problem with CorelDraw arose, followed by the arrival of the Iceland order. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me. Two items for the freezer. Chip Shop Chips and a ready meal. Can you guess what the frozen meal was by looking at this snap? Some food for the fridge.
Then the tea cupboard. I won’t have time to do it right now, but I hope to separate all the different tea bags and put them in containers. A big job now. I’ve got Ty-Phoo extra strong tea bags, Ty-Phoo ordinary, and Tetley Extra Strong, late in the week. I have some cheap tea bags coming. It’s going to be a big job; I might not have enough room in the cupboard. I got rather carried away yet again.
I made a mug of proper tea and got back to the CorelDraw programme.

MYSTERY
I was resetting some default settings, and it was as if I’d blinked. I’d obviously been making error after error with CoralDraw, but don’t think it was seizure after effect, cause I might have been suffering with a loss of balance, but was clear-headed enough to realise vaguely that I may have had an order from Iceland. Yet the only thing I recall was struggling to get the tea into the cupboard; nothing else about the delivery. Yet I’d written it on the notepad?

THEN ANOTHER LONG SEIZURE
During which, as far as I could tell, I did absolutely nothing. After this, it was a guesstimate – about an hour. I came back into reality, sat on the four-wheeled walker on the balcony, with the sun shining in my eyes and making me virtually blind. Glady Glaucoma does not like sunshine. It took me a long time to get my vision back to near normal.
But this time, no severe loss of balance. A Carer thinks there must be different things causing different seizures. It could, I suppose, be FND, Peripheral Neuropathy, Dementia Doreen, or something new?

Better get a meal started.
Frozen meal, beef in black sauce, with added Lung Po and Mixed Vegetable pickle, and Marmite stirred in before cooking. Then some Chip Shop Chips were done in the oven and added. 
I may not try this again. Wednesday saw five trips to the Porcelain Throne, with me being late on the third visit.

Lovely evening shot from the kitchen window.
The sun had just vanished from the horizon.

I consulted Google AI earlier.
About the mystery blank I had.
This was AI’s reply.
Transient Global Amnesia (TGA): A temporary condition involving sudden memory loss and confusion, or another serious issue like a head injury, stroke, or seizure. It is crucial to consult a healthcare professional to determine the cause and receive appropriate treatment. So, I did.
I got an appointment at the Doctor’s in five weeks. Crucial? Did Google AI fib?
Or, the Doctor ignore me?
No treatment was offered.

TAKETH CARE & KEEPETH SAFE

Inchie Today: Monday 25th August 2025

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A new invention, a creation of Inchies’ first ever attempt at launching his mind-boggling ‘Off-Track-Semi-Ode-Ode’. 
A Pioneering, but rudimentary, bound-to-fail jobbie. The idiot came out from a nocturnal seizure last night, with the idea of mixing an Ode, with his usual losing track of the theme, putting a load of waffle in between his lines of terrible rhyming and plot.
He anticipates this will turn out as a labyrinth of unsophisticated, hard-to-interpret, hogwash and buncome. Added legitimised, characterise notorisations & apologises between verses, in an effort to further syllogise and maybe psychologise the end product. He realises this is doomed to failure; he knew it in the early hours of this morning, even when he was recovering from the seizure at 02:10hrs, as he came back to mock life. Decided the whole concept was rubbish. Then, at 15:30hrs, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Iris rebirthed the idea in his cerebrum. Now the silly old sausage (not hostage) is going to give it a go. I warned him, but he never listens to me.
Another tooth was broken today; it’s his own fault for eating nuts!
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The flat in which I live reminds me of San Quentin,
The bare balcony, partly hidden by a thin, tattered curtain,
The windows are filthy, the window cleaners have absconded,
My cleaning them had to be abandoned…
My fitness and alertness, that once abounded…
Mental & physical problems are constantly added.
It’s being contained within the flat that gets to me. Not able to meander over to the tree cops for a chat with the animals and trees. No visiting the ponds to feed and natter with the ducks and pigeons. These pleasures have gone, along with the abilities to get to them. I had to go down to the ground floor lobby three times this week – What a pleasure! Although the ailments didn’t agree, namely, Arthur Itis, Cartilage Chloe, and Anne Gyna, during the Wednesday farce with the laundry not getting dried, you can add Duodenal Donald. It took me five hours to get the laundry done, and that was after the Carer had gone. From the moment I got in the lift. Having already paid for the laundry to be done. Donald played me up for two more days. Of course, had this happened a few years ago, when the NHS prescribed Aludrox SA medication, it would not have been a problem. This ulcer medication was A1, great, so effective. But  HMG is cutting costs, and the result? I get prescribed an over-the-counter Peptac medication, which adds to the long list and line of reasons for Dark, Dank, Depression Darius having such a heyday nowadays. 
Bohemianism, with its unconformity, unorthodoxy…
Which bodes unfamiliarity, out & out novelty,
Dictatorship, Communist, or Starmers Oligarchy?
None of these is working as far as I can see,
Not one of them is interested in antipoverty…
Herr Starmer’s HMG acting openly asininely,
Plainly ruling corruptly, unethically, & fraudulently,
Achieving nothing but Keir’s soundbites aplenty,
I’d be content if the git died next Wednesday,
I wasn’t too keen on Blair’s lies, but they weren’t openly recognisable at first. Starmer burst on the scene, freebie & backhander seeking. Grumpy Brown, the do-nothing leader. I didn’t like that bleeder. Starmer led Labour to a landslide victory at the 2024 general election, ending fourteen years of Conservative government with the SMALLEST vote share of any majority government since record-keeping began in 1830.
But does this sink into the over-confident, smug, incapable, lying, two-faced Labour Party Principles ignoring Starmer? 
No, of course it doesn’t. I can’t understand why he has not been assassinated yet. I can dream… then again, who is going to get in power; if I’m lucky and he resigns, gets thrown out by his own cabinet, commits suicide or gets his head blown off; the last option would be best. Cause he’s so conceited, and a bloody good barrister, his lying style proved this; He’d probably sue them. 
Well, Ajaz has just finished his teatime call,
I need more help, and that’s apodictical,
Apprehensible, perceptible, clearly palpable,
But will I get any? Will I be able?
Sod it, I’ve just banged Cartilage Chloe on the table!

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I spent so long on the Ode, I’ll have to cut this short.

Up at 05:00hrs. Urine pouch is a decent 4 on the scale card. Made a mug of Detox tea, the cheap kind that requires cold water, so it can only taste better if it’s over-steeped.And I left for 35 minutes. Then off to the wet room to get the
tended to. Got myself seated on the plastic WC, and instantly Trotsky Terence released not any torpedoes like Constipation Konrad would, but his usual sticky but soft spatterings all over the porcelain. I didn’t have any deposits on my body this time.

Rushed through doing the teeth, shaving (3 cuts), body washing, and all the usual medications went reasonably well. Just Cartilage Chloe was any bother.

I pondered whether the bed needed tidying up.
It didn’t. I collected my dressing gown and went to get the Detox tea to sip. I spent about ten minutes tidying up in the kitchen. 

Then I limped through the doors and onto the balcony to take some morning shots. Starting with directly below and to my left. I took these through the glass, the dirty glass, which wasn’t a good idea on reflection. 
Then, I had to pop back to the .
Same mode as the first one. But this was half expected, given all the pickles and vegetables in last night’s stew. However, there was just one more visit to come today, about 18:00hrs, same again.

I then finished the tea that I’d forgotten about. I think I may be a bit of a twit in believing this might help me lose weight. But you never know! Well…

I belatedly changed the battery clock and calendar, and made a mug of proper tea. I used two of the Tetley Extra Strong one-cup ones.

I got the Health Checks started. The BP was slightly elevated on both checks today. But the blood & urine were fine.

Carer Ejaz arrived and did a good job this morning. I explained to him the importance of the new socks not getting screwed up when put in the washing machine, and showed him the L & R to identify which foot each should go on. Also, could he please check after drying, so that the L & R will be visible? The nurse said that after she called, it is crucial to get them right, as they are weighted in the correct places. If I get them on the wrong foot, the rough skin will get pulled in the wrong direction and can come off, causing worse leakages.

I had some problems with CorelDraw again.

The nurse called. I do like her. She explains things so well to me, as with the socks earlier. She checked my rear end and advised me to continue applying the barrier cream, even if it doesn’t feel sore. So. I will. I try to grasp all she tells me. Bless her. 🤎
I mentioned the diaper pants costing more now, and she was amazed that they didn’t supply them for free! She will look into it to see if she can get them on prescription for me. 🤎
When she asked if I had a sugar level tester, I mistakenly thought she meant the machine I have that takes readings from the finger. She is going to ask if she can order some of the needles and the kit for me. 🤎 She took a look at the legs and removed the plasters, telling me they are clear now. 🤎
She said she will ask about the diabetic socks and will come later in the week to measure my legs, so they know which size to order for me.🤎 What a treasure!

Carer Nimra did the noon call. Well, it seems to be 17:30hrs now. Not that it matters. We had a laugh over my new glass frames, and she was off. (Short call this one). I’ll ask a Carer to take a snap of them for me, then you can have a laugh as well. Hehehe!

I had a series of three in half an hour. Each one seemed to have shorter recovery times. I can’t weigh this up. Why?

Got the potatoes in the oven.
Baked cheesy potatoes, with Marmite.
Copericus sausage and red, orange and brown Isle of Man-grown tomatoes. Lovely!

🤎 = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = 🤎
MAY YOUR DREAMS BE SWEET
🤎 = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = – = 🤎

Inchie Today: Saturday 23th August 2025

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……….., erm, how can I explain? If I am able…
Some of my thoughts don’t seem to be translatable,
I can’t guarantee, or be sure, they are veridical,
Or even my own; does this sound plausible?
Dementia, Cognitive impairment, not only horrible…
But nervous-making, not controllable,
I tried grasping reality; it was not entirely feasible,
Does water on the brain make me mentally drownable?
Some people can be unintentionally smart-aleckal,
Not knowing why yourself can be tenuous, even mythical,
Mental gweilos in the head, that’s not theoretically,
I’d have laughed my head off at the thought, in 1963,
That was another me, no brain-dwellers then, I was free,
Now, I talk to myself, for it must be me, logically…
Begging myself for mental peace or an amnesty,
I find my brain often communicates antagonistically,
Seizures, ailments, just won’t back away…
Sometimes I ask myself, why have the neurosurgery?
I’ve awaited the Glaucoma lasering since 2023,
My rare self-sympathy is so cringeworthy!
1972, the last year I felt anything like Christmassy,
What happened then? Someone shot me in my knee,
Nothing changes, I’ve no Christmas tree,
But shame and guilt, I have aplenty!
If I were a Catholic, I could do a confessionary,
Tell them at thirteen I lost my cherry,
To a 46-year-old neighbour, her name was Sally,
Why, how did I manage it? That’s not a mystery,
The first time viewing of what she showed me!
I was excited, satiated, she laughed at poor little Inchy!
We met weekly, collaboratively,
Something else that bugged me incessantly…
Well, more so now, Earth’s warlike history,
It’s going to happen again, more seriously,
Again, World leaders are showing complacency,
But little clemency, compassion or coherency,
So many more this time are acting bodaciously,
They’ve created a worldwide mamihlapinatapai!
Assuring that if not all, billions will die!
Because politicians are part of the WW narcokleptocracy,
Any input from minions like me is nugatory,
With their parsimonious greed and profligacy…
Oh, I lost the plot of this cacography,
Not unexpectedly, but again, I’m sorry!
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A quickie today. I got carried away with the day’s Ode.

I rose and did a double back flip off of the bed and 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, landing perfectly, and yodelled for a few minutes on the balcony.
Ahem!

Better colour today.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications issued, sock put on. But later found they were not diabetic ones and the leg wounds flared up… or should that be flared up?
Carer Mizra changed them on the lunchtime visit for me, back to diabetic ones. Ordered some more later on in the day.

The mini seizures came on earlier today. I got confused after each one, and there were so many again. At times, one after another.

Popped out on the balcony later. Took these snaps.

I took the first of my Detox tea bags this morning. The cheaper ones. They had to be made using cold water. And left for 30 minutes. So I did. 
Aorted the waste bags out, and paid a messy, slimy, runny Trotsky Terence visit to the Porcelain Throne.
Back to get the brew, and squeezed the bag, and it burst open. Bits of seed and grass all over the cooker, me and the floor. I cleaned the mess and investigated the details on the other Detox teabag box.
This one is made with boiling water, I needed to steep it for 15-20minutes. It said I could add honey or lemon juice to flavour the drink. So, I did. Lemon
The top cheaper ones that exploded were two a day. This one was once a day. Tasted okay with the lemon added to it. Oh, it must be sipped, not drunk.

A later-than-ever start on the blog today. And with the seizures being so furiously rampant, not that they bothered me too much; it was the after effects that put me in a right confused state. However, I pressed on, ever correcting errors, but I think I enjoyed doing it. The Ode took me so long, I thought I might need another shave and shampoo. Hahaha!

I was baffled. Then I realised I might have hit the wrong key combination, which possibly caused this dilemma. The self-hating turned itself on. I waited and waited, but after half an hour, the completion rate had only gone up to 76%. Was I bothered? Of course I was! I sat here at the computer for another ten minutes, and it was still showing as 76%.

I couldn’t, didn’t have the means to turn it off via Windows. Then I think the screen flashed, inverted or wobbled threateningly.
My mechanical heart missed a beat!
I thought I was on the verge of losing my computer. Although something happens every day that makes me think this, this time I was sure it would snuff it – when the % went back down to 55% in an instant.
Deepened. Terrible thoughts floated around my head. In there, from somewhere, I got a memory prompt telling me I had not made a will yet?
It was the horriblest feeling of the week. And that’s taking into consideration Tuesday and Wednesday’s soul-destroying events. I didn’t think or expect to have such nightmares again, as soon as this. I was wrong, of course. I made a mug of tea and drank it, brooding over my failures, my own limitations, uselessness and so on.
And the scene went blank, then off. Very slowly and with a jumpy restart, the computer restarted – but only as far as the blue crash screen; with a new system laid out to get the computer restarted.

After losing more hours, I had no choice but to risk turning it off at the plug. I was more scared of making a wrong selection amongst the strange options that were on the screen.
So, I did! And with an unexpected lack of fear. I angrily accepted that this is the end of the world-famous blog. My fans from over the globe will be distraught. Both of them.
I left the computer turned off for about 15 minutes and then rebooted it.
The old blue start-up screen returned with the known options to select! And Wallah!
The main page came up, and I opened Google. Then, my impending joy was cut short when I opened CorelDraw—it froze!

Carer Mizra called and took the socks off, gave me Peptc and got the nocturnal catheter bag out for me to use later. After the lad had gone (up to now), I have not had another seizure. Great!

I pondered whether or not to bother making a meal. I was tired and more drained than usual. Cooking might be a risk. I decided not to make a meal. Just had a yoghourt and a bag (or two) of Frazzle crisps. I don’t feel terribly hungry anyway.
But so weary, unbelievably so. I made a brew of tea and sat to watch some TV. Nearly 21:00hrs already.

Back in the morning with an update on the event in case anything interesting happens. (As if? Hehehe!)

Two editions of Red Dwarf were just starting on TV. I was so pleased, and got myself into a comfortable position as is possible in the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, Horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner… and fell into a deep yet dream-filled sleep. When I stirred, the light from the TV enhanced the shock of doing so, I believed it must be getting up time already… But, No! Red Dwarf began at 21:00hrs, and the credits were rolling for the end of the second episode. So all that dreaming, albeit seemingly restful as well, had lasted for 1 hour and 40 minutes.
As I was trying to get back into the land of Morphius, who came calling on me? ! I got the Toothache tincture spray and used it. Tiffany was getting naughty with it, and I took a Codeine 30g as well..
.

I decided to mount the oooospital bed. Climbing into it, while crossing my fingers that nobody telephoned me, took a concerted effort. Why? Cartilage Chloe! The moment I got up to get the tincture to counter Toothache Tiffany, Chloe kicked off distributing her aches and pains, and she’s still at it now – I likely twisted her into action, climbing into the bed. Sunday morning 08:50hrs! Then, by the time I actually got into bed, the task of getting that into a comfortable position was somewhat challenging. Why? Well, it’s complicated, slightly similar to the Labour Government, but not as bad or crooked. I cannot reach the light switch from the bed, so I use a wind-up torch to see the controls on the bed movement panel. But I dropped it and it fell down the gap between the bed and the wall.
Trying to manipulate the controls using the torch was bad enough, but things got worse. I dropped the wired bed control box, and it bounced into the dark depths of under the bed.
I made do with the indulated rippled state of the bed. But could I get to sleep? No! The three main reasons? Toothache Tiffany, Cartilage Chloe and Thought Storming Steve – then, as if to put the cream on the cake, Anne Gyna joined in.
I’d been planning on getting some sleep for about four hours. Two hours in the recliner and two in bed. It was almost a blessing when I had to get up to utilise the . I gave myself a en route. All but tripped over treading on the dropped control panel wire, and arrived at the wet room, only to trip over my walking stick! .
I didn’t get sat down in time!
Had Constipation Conrad been in charge, I’d have missed this pleasure. But, Trotsky Terence returned instead. Splatt! Spray! Soggy mess to clean up.

= ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇=
Wishing You Peace, Pleasure & Paradisaicness!
= ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇= ∇ = ∇ = ∇= ∇= = ∇ = ∇=
TTFNski

Inchy Today: Sunday 20th July 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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ODE TO CONCENTRATION KONRAD
One of my ailments is Konrad Concentration…
Not to be confused with Conrad Constipation,
Although both are ace at obstruction and prohibition,
Konrad, in control of memory blocking & recollection,
Conrad, in charge of my back passage obstruction,
Causing pain, and Haemorrhoid Harold’s bleeding,
Conrad swaps with Trotsky Terence often…
Trotsky guarantees a liquid, pongy evacuation,
It reverses the next day, rock hard, tarnation!
Concentration Konrad does not bring physical trusion.
The hassles that come from Konrad Concentration
Are mental, cognitively, unending, in perpetuation,
My responses can vary, sometimes an epiphenomenon,
A byproduct, physiological, needing explication…
Often bringing on self-expostulation,
I think that Konrad’s affects need explaining,
I see the neurosurgeon re. my upcoming trefination…
Not until November; I’ve no trepidation,
Until then, my brain is forgetting & fragmenting…
Frustrated, self-hating, waiting, with some aggression,
There are times that I’m 100% certain,
That something was done right, then became uncertain,
Change my mind again – mental vociferation,
Did I know, then, how if so? Flashforwarding…
These instances can involve anything,
Appointments, dates, and times – do I get fussbudgeting?
Not knowing leads to self-vilification and condemnation,
I am mentally challenged, FND, or maybe a vaurien?
Three years ago, a psychiatrist mentioned verbigeration,
What does it mean? I looked it up, but I’ve forgotten,
I must do it again. Will I? Here’s hoping,
Last night, I gazed out at the gloaming…
Something weird was beginning,
I left my body and floated up to look back down at me…
I was there, but I looked to be about three,
No more memory of what happened, you see,
Suddenly, I was in the hospital having an angiography,
Then back in the wet room, emptying my pouch of pee!
The door chime chimed, rudely waking me,
I wish an oneirocritic would analyse this for me!

BONUS ODE
If a politician lied, can it be called insinuated?
Or, claim it’s proposed, suggested, even adumbrated, 
Can Starmer’s lies by omission be shrouded? 
I think he should be hanged or guillotined,
He’s a reprobate, immoral, degenerated,
SpecSavers, Arsenal, Sausages & hostagers,
To taking backhanders, he is not averse, 
Robbing, fiddling, killing pensioners, & farmers,
Backhanders? Arsenal, glasses, 
For his wife, designer outfits,
Lord Alli gave £500,000+ to Labour over 20 years,
Corporate box: by Arsenal valued at 8,950 pounds,
 40 sets of free tickets during his time as leader,
£698 of Coldplay tickets in Manchester,
£4,000 of hospitality at a Taylor Swift concert,
Accommodation valued at more than 20,000 pounds, Glasses valued at £2,485 pounds,
£4,475 of discounted personal training sessions,
A free £4,500 holiday to Welsh beauty spots,
£5000+ from various gastronomers,
A suggestion of hidden gifts of beverages!
Wouldn’t surprise me to see MP abscotchalaters,
Keir’s not exactly surrounded by MP artificers,
Or honest, reliable HMG inspectrices,
I hope Starmer doesn’t miss any Arsenal fixtures,
Hope the git doesn’t get any snottier,
I hope he gets even more unpopular,
And meets his own assasinator,
If not, he dies of gonorrhoea.
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Catching up.
That’s that done.

Well, look at this…
YEE-HAA!
Mind you, DDDDD took over again
around teatime. Humph!

05:20hrs: I reluctantly dragged myself, still feeling tired out, from the bed.

Got the nocturnal pouch emptied. I took a sample first, so the Carer could grade it later.

I took this snap above of the misty,
but tickling with rain, morning.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Sorted the medications and issued them. Then, the lad performed a body check, applying Cetraben cream to the areas that needed it.
He checked Lymphoreoa Leslie’s leg wound and said he would change it on Monday if it got any worse. I thought it was fine, apart from the neuropathy-driven electric shocks being more regular today. I put this down to the patch dropping off so regularly; Mizra had put tape on it to keep it in place. Ejaz changed his mind and applied a new patch, retaping it firmly in place. Seconds later, the body fluid could be seen leaking under the plaster. As expected, with the tape being tight, but it’s better than the plaster falling off. Don’t worry, the nurse is due on Monday or Tuesday. I’m dreading Wednesday’s medical day. I may have to miss blogs off. But not if I can help it.
Ejaz then creamed the hand injury, & took a photograph of it. It looks a lot worse than it really is in this snap. It’s drying up and scabbing now, which is a good sign, methinks. 

A few hours on the blog, and the food delivery arrived. I retrieved the bags from where they were left in the foyer, carried them to the kitchen, and put them away. Got some garden peas.

I’ll have a super choice tonight.

I did have a bit of an Accifaupas, though.
I caught the hand wound as I
was putting things in the fridge.
Nothing really, wiped it with a tissue,
and it stopped bleeding.

Carer Mizra called, or was it Carer
Akeyo? I’m going out of it again here.

I took another sky shot.

I’ll have to take a stand-up shave and wash now.
Still can’t have a shower cause of the leg.
Back in a bit. I’ll try to rush it (not the shaving
bit). To get it done before the next Carer call.

All done and eaten!

Carer Mizra did the last call. I performed safety checks in the kitchen and fitted the night catheter bag. The lad looked tired; I was his last call.

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Be Good, Be Well, & Bless You!
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Inchy Today: Friday 18th July 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Ponder the nature of the beast, at its best.
Disposition, personality, temperament, avidest…
It’s bodgiest, boggiest, boldest, bolshiest,
Briefest, brightest, briskest, bristliest,
Crookedest, crossest, crudest, cruellest,
Care needed to identify its cunningest,
You’ll be obliged to despise and detest,
Identify his traits, lies and falseness,
Gracelessness, gimmickiest, at his glibbest,
At his dishonestest, sneakiest, & sleeziest,
Danger in this concealed recreantest,
Dangerous at his dorkiest, this dweebiest!
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A bit darker.

Oddly blue morning sky.

The calendar clock changed.

Worth mentioning (just about);
1. Blood-Test Appointment arrived on Monday.
2. A Community Nurse visited and put on new plaster for Lymphoedema Leslie on the leg. Said she would be back on Monday or Tuesday to check it.
3: Ten minutes later, the plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg fell off.
4: Carer Mirza, put another plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg for me.
5: Ten minutes later, the plaster on Lymphoedema Leslie’s leg fell of again.
6: I got the old plaster back on and wound tape over the top of it.
7: Carer Ejaz did a body check, and ointmentated the wound on my left hand.
8: Text message from the Red Cross, a technician will be calling next Tuesday. I think it will be about the wheelchair? Just guessing here.
9. Email referring to the neurology surgery clinic: they will be sending an assessment logistics form to be filled in and returned, and confirming the November appointment at the Neurologic Clinic, 1st floor, Leengate Clinic. They recommend bringing a Carer along with me. 
10. Email from the Dentist, with the usual threats of financial loss and charges if I fail to attend next Thursday’s appointment, or am late arriving. They also suggested I bring a Carer with me.
11. I found I had run out of money. I need to speak with Carer Ejaz to see if I can stop by an ATM on the way to the dentist. This means we won’t have time to do the laundry, cleaning, or financial checks. I anticipate getting into a mess next week with no clean clothing, and even filthier flat to live in, and a call from the bank manager.
12. Aha! A good one! Carer Mizra has got the ringtones on the new phone to change! Much louder. I can hear when anyone calls, now!

Food Prepping!
Hehehe!
Very Tasty!

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Despite today’s problems, Great!
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Inchy: Tue 1st July 2025. Farcical Day

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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FOR TODAY
When they come to fit my unwanted smart-meter…
They’ll have to cut off the power,
I’ll need to reset the shower & hot water?
Most worryingly, my computer,
Reset the TV, playbox, & router,
The panic/assistance alarm speaker,
Two landline telephones connected to the ether,
Showing my electrical ignorance & Naïveté,
Time for panic, worry & and thinking waywardly,
Fear, depression, frustration, concern, & misery,
Trying to find & adapt to feel hopefully,
Will I cope with Whoopsiedangleploppery?
Now, as I type, I’ve got amblyopy,
Caused by bewilderment, fear & perplexity.

District Nurses tended to the Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
Thought the leg was doing well, ideally,
But the right foot was still in agony,
Thanked them, sadly, they went away.
They were up to their necks in it, and very busy! 💟

Still awaiting the call from Neurology,
And the mystery parcel from UPS, hopefully, for me,
The kind Kaftan washing lady, 🌺
The nurse, to take blood, Warfarin for the DVT,

Awaiting the Smart Meter, fretfully…
I wound myself up dyspeptically,
Forded into having one, I disagree,
British Gas is acting so oligarchically,
But there’s no option, it’s not discretionary,
This bugs an already pissed-on Inchie!
Concern & fear of their cutting the electricity,
Put Duodenal Donald into declivity,
Anne Gyna’s started showing new activity,
Do I consider British Gas derogatory?
Absobloodylutely!

I opened the balcony doors and windows last night before I settled into the hospital bed; it was flipping well hot in the flat. A bad night, as per usual, disturbed repeatedly for the usual reasons. The need of the Porcelain Throne, each time I nodded off, I’d jump awake within minutes. Then, a couple of my famous “Worry-Bug” episodes. I’d made up a bottle of water for overnight from the fridge, so it was cold for a while anyway. But WBW (Worry-Bug-William) wondered if I’d turned off the taps and closed the fridge door, so I just had to struggle out of bed and into the kitchen to check. All was okay. I got back into bed, determined to get and stay asleep!
Minutes later, WBW was concerned again. Had I turned off the taps in the Porcelain Throne room? 
I think it took away my depression & worries of what would happen this morning with all the callers due, at least temporarily. I’d not left the taps running, but I had left the light on. This brought to mind the unnecessary, unwanted, and unneeded electricity meter that the Oligarchs are putting in anyway. 
That set me off worrying about reconnecting the computer, phone, alarm, router, and so on. 
Yet another crappy night with a pathetic amount of sleep. I plumped into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner. But it does come in damned handy to use to drag myself up after a tumble, trip or fall. Around 04:30hrs, still no sleep and with kicking off, I gave up and got up. At least, although not on top form concentration-wise, and dog tired with the attentions of , starting to grumble, still, it gave me time before the callers come calling to do A good start, as I got into the wet room…

Somehow, suddenly wobbled, and down I went, hitting my chin on the WC raising bar! But, I only went down on one knee, and  . I was able to claw my way back up on my legs using the sink and basin. Heroically, I pressed on with utilising the .
A messier affair than yesterday’s! Clean thing up, and boldly ventured to start shaving… yes, even after all the blood loss from my previous shave, I showed no fear. Okay, ! I thought I was being so careful;
 However, by the time I’d finished shaving, I’d got three cuts, and I spotted I’d got crimped red marks on my chin. A real mystery how that appeared. Unless it was from the contact made with the sink during my initial tumble? Medicated reachable area in need of it. No rushing, because I knew I wouldn’t have time to post on the blog, and it was still early. (I didn’t realise that I was going to get on this blog, then)

Carer Ejaz arrived, spotted the markings and cuts on my face. And told me to buy an electric razor. Ejaz performed a body check and massaged Cetraben cream on the areas I couldn’t reach. The back and feet, for me. The swelling in the legs had decreased, as had the swelling in the feet, but not by as much. I still couldn’t get the slippers on. Ejaz forced them onto my feet for me. Hehe!

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Received some treatment from two district nurses. 

By 15:00hrs, the oligarchs, neurologist, INR nurse,  and the Catheter Nurse had not arrived.  
So, I set about starting this blog.

Expecting an arrival from any one of them at any time. Silly me!

Oh, I did take a few photos. I’ll see if I can get them to load into CorelDRAW.

Late morning view.

Today’s arranged visits. Hahaha!

Put the TV on when I started this blog.

Still awaiting the arrival of the people installing the oligarch’s electricity meter. 

No seizures at all, as far as I could tell?

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Bootiful!

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– – MESSY UNPLANNED DAY – –
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Inchy’s Ode: Monday 30th June 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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I escaped my flat, my three-roomed home,
First, I took my morphine and prednisolone,
An adventure to get out, though all alone,
Tried to identify each smell, each pheromone,
The tree copse, cooking food and cannabis,
I smelt the gloom, & people’s armpits,
Watched the dogs sniffing out bitches oestrone,
Sick on the pavement, looking like zabaglione,
In the distance, I thought I heard an altoist…
Then, I lost grip of my walking stick,
Took a tumble, realised I was not autarkic,
The Warden came over, and that did the trick.
She got me up again, back in the flat in a tick,
I sat and thought about Starmer…
Not a pleasant pondering on a wanker,
The PM, a backhander-taking free banqueter,
I, a tea & biscuit-dunker, he? Drunker!
He is an oligarch, I am a robbed pensioner,
But I didn’t get any angrier…
Cause the valve dropped off my catheter,
These things have happened before,
Anne Gyna, the ever-leaking oedema,
The nurse will be calling. Bless her,
Today, or the day after,
Clean, cream the legs, and replaster.
All the best to Starmer, the bloodsucker,
I’ve an appointment; Doctor of Neurology,
But that’s not until next November, you see,
My Doctor told them it was an emergency,
I’ve another urgent one waiting for me…
Glaucoma, been waiting since 2023,
I suppose this sounds as if I’m sorry?
Sorry for myself, pathetically?
I guess I may be anti-aristocracy?
They can afford private treatment, medically,
Murderers in jail get treated quicker than Inchy!
I put it down to jealousy, basically,
Worst of all, No Carer Joe, to look after Gerry!
Boosting my ego, caring carefully…
Always a smile, ever helpingly…
My depression depths now? Acceleratingly!
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I feel so low today
Sorry, it is how I feel
Help is not easy to find
Losing Carer Joe stinks
An infected brain rules how I think
I have to question my mind.
Confused most of the time
Now, depressed, all the time.
If there are any prospects of help…
I can’t see them. Sorry.
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Better

Morning view

Legs on waking were looking much calmer.
This would not last, of course.

Erm… can’t remember taking this, or why?

Carer Elaz snapped the top of my head.

Then the hand injury. He put cream on both of them and then on my feet for me.
Not too bad later.

Food arrived.
No-butter butter spreadable.
Regular tomatoes, Milk Roll loaf, Silesian sausages, Polish sausages, cheesy topped bread rolls.
Fish sticks, and three Tiger Tomatoes.
These might taste good.

Fridge not overfull!
Nurses & Carer shelves.

Carer Joe made his last ever call.
What a Priceless Man. He sorted out the online banking again. Bless his cotton socks!

Green/brown tomato sliced and put in the no-butter buttered wholemeal rolls. Two Sileasian sausages, red spring onions, beetroot and some beans. I seem to have run out of peas.
Gorgeous flavour!

Sorry, but tomorrow will be a busy day for me, and I’ll have to cope with more than one caller at the same time. I fear most of them.

British Gas is installing a Smart Meter and will need to turn off the power. Doing so will kill the emergency Panic Alarm, landlines, internet and TV. Plus the fridge and freezer. I have no idea how to get them back on. A genuine worry. So, a blog for tomorrow is doubtful in terms of time. The chances are that I won’t be able to use the phones, alarms, computer, stove, hot water, door, or intercom after they’ve been cut off to fit the Smart Meter, which I’ve never wanted anyway due to my arithmaphobia. Do I seem worried? That’s because I am, and with no Carer Joe to help me sort things.

UPS: Sent an email about a parcel being delivered tomorrow between 09:15 and 12:05 hours.

The nurse is due to clean and remediate, and replaster Lymphoedema Leslie’s bloated, leaking feet and legs.

The Neurology Surgeon’s assistant is to contact me on the landline to discuss the chosen procedure. Twixt 09:30 & 11:00hrs.

Precious is calling to fetch the Kaftans for hand washing, bless her.

There is a chance that the DVT Nurse will be taking blood for the Warfarin INR level testing.

The Community Nurses are due to take out the Cathy Catheter Contraption and replace it. (Shudder!)

How many will arrive at the same time is anyone’s guess, but with my luck, I’ll get all confused and forget all that people tell me.

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See Ya Later Alligator…
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Inchies: Wednesday-Worriments 25th June 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Or, rather, me forgetting to close it!
This morning, my mind seemed less peripatetic,
Carer Ejaz turned into almost a medic,
Body check, acne & eczema, medications next,
Got a bowl of water to wash, then dried my feet,
It was difficult getting about…
The toes felt as if I had gout,
On the computer, the door chime rang out,
Just, I was emptying the catheter pouch,
Walked in agony, to see who it was…
Window cleaner, to give them a wash,
I explained that I wasn’t feeling up to much,
I said no thanks, & locked him out,
Got back and started the blog layout,
Ten minutes later, or thereabouts,
I felt warm wee-wee coming from the pouch,
As I stood up, the carpet made a squealch…
I’d left the valve open; I went into a panic,
Spent an hour drying it, where I could reach,
The computer? I had to log out…
As I bent to soak the carpet… Ouch!
I banged my head on the corner of the couch!
Carer Joe arrived, and I was very confused,
He took the laundry, and I got more bemused,
Tried to log on with the bank, it refused…
I tried to get it going, things were adjusted,
Our efforts to log in were busted…
Password & log-in, each stayed unaccepted,
Now seizure & Anne Gyna started,
I was getting most aggravated,
Faux pas & frustrations got me agitated,
Then the Physio chap arrived,
Just as I was coming back out of a mini seizure,
I told him of my Accifauxpa & the wet Axminster,
And went back into a partial seizure…
A total blank, the next half-hour,
I think I lost a bit of willpower,
Anne Gyna returned with mental confusion,
Carer Joe updated me on the missed action,
I had trouble remaining focused,
The computer froze, & I became a fatalist…
Turned off the computer, I’d never felt frumpier!
Constantly being got at by Anne Gyna,
My curses and oaths were at their foulest,
Carer Joe called, and I found sudden joyfulness,
Joe moved a plug, Google back on in 2 ticks,
I could have kissed him on his cheeks!
He’d made me a momentary rapturist,
Ridden with bad luck, short of spondulicks,
Worried if the seizures are classed as fits,
My resolution was at its squalidest,
Anne Gyna, Toothache Tiffany & sidekicks,
Depression, frustration put on my shitlist,
Today was my testiest, traumatised & tetchiest,
Made a meal, midnight well past…
Things I couldn’t find, or had lost…
Sharp knife, TV remote, and wristwatch…
Banking details, AA batteries for the clock,
I still can’t get my foot into a slipper or sock…
I’ll always be a failure and a solecist!
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A miserable day, as revealed by the Ode above.
A chaotic schedule. Seizure and error-ridden.
Along with the frustration and depression, I had Anne Gyna back on form. Any one of the Accifauxpas would have been more than enough for me.
The seizure, when the man from the NHS Health and Safety came, was almost a blank. But I saw that he had fitted a cushion to the computer chair for me. Thank you! This is the first time I had a seizure when two people were present. Hope I didn’t drop any clangers or say the wrong thing. 🤞🏻

I managed to take a few photos.

On waking. Looking better

Early morning

Later in the day.
The feet began to swell.

Very late at night.

Tried to watch some recorded Heartbeat programmes. But got confused or went wrong. It didn’t help me fall asleep and made me feel disoriented each time I struggled and failed to exit the pre-recorded section. Humph! 
I gave up anticipating I’d nod off immediately.
But, no!
From nowhere, he got stuck in my mind with guilt-trips, shame, patheticness, depression, frustrations and all from years ago, at first anyway.
I clearly recall writing notes which I’m using now.
His digs were getting too close to the present time. This indicated how I am now struggling with everyday, simple daily tasks. It hit home! I think I forced myself awake. (Maybe not?)

Only to have a visit from He’s still with me, on and off this morning.
Life is becoming an albatross around my neck. I’ve never used that phrase before. It fits, though.
Gawd, I’m feeling low! But, thanks to Doctor Vindla, I’ve got my appointment to see a neurologist at the QMC. Unfortunately, it is for November! 
Hey-Ho!

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May the Force Be With You
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Inchy’s Ode: Wednesday 11th June 2025

/ Inchie / 15 Comments

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Not my best effort, but the beauty is still evident.
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I used to be an abstentionist,
Till Starmer arrived with his Tory habits,
Bringing Keir’s bureaucracy,
Ruling backhandedly, rigidly,
He lies so well and repeatedly,
As PMs go, he’s the most antihumanistic,
His waffles are unintelligible & anticlimactic,
Making voters most antagonistic,
Starmerishly: insincerely; obsequiously, Sycophantically, unscrupulously, & deviously,
Often proving his own sincerity,
A scamster, defalcator, backhander-taker,
It’s time to bring in the undertaker!
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Yet another night of ever-jumping-awake, despite my tiredness, which helped me get back to sleep after each jerking awake in a reasonably short time. But there were so many of them.  Dark Dank Depression Duncan came into the equation, and the periods of bliss were getting shorter every time. 
I gave up and clambered out of the £300 second-hand shop-bought in 1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
I noted that the catheter’s nocturnal drainage pouch urine was a lighter colour for a change this morning. Last night’s overtiredness had left some of its debris, and it took a while for me to gain semi-clarity, but I did.
I gathered the health-checking gear together and started doing the Ticker, Blood, temp’ & oxygen test. The results varied somewhat; the blood tests were an improvement in the last few days.
However, just look at the SYS and BP results above.
Not very encouraging, are they?
03:40hrs: I decided to get my ablutions & medications done early. The pot marks in the lower regions from the catheter contraption straps, tubes, and bits had started bleeding, so I’ll need to use the Porcelain Throne, shave, and shower, and all the creams, drops, sprays, and ointments will be tended to as well. It’s a good thing I got up early then. I removed the catheter’s muslin bag, but I couldn’t find the one that I’d washed yesterday. (Nothing unusual there). I’d like to concentrate on the ablution tasks, not wanting any more knocks or tumbles. Thank you very much.

I must admit, I got the muslin bag off of the leg with no bother at all! The cartilage pain seemed to be on holiday. Hehe!
Another bonus is that I didn’t leave the hot water tap dripping away overnight this time. Started on the throne, another long job. Still, minimal cleaning up is needed. Although, I did notice that the walking stick’s ferrules were leaving dark marks on the wetroom floor. I used the four-pronged Metal Mickey stick. I’ll have to give that a wash afterwards; it made a right mess.
Got the teggies done. The teeth are so rotten that pain from Toothache-Tiffany was inevitable.

The shaving went so well, just one teeny weeny nick on my neck. Next, the shower.

Again, I was amazed at the lack of Accidauxpas and or Whoopsiedangleplops! I thoroughly enjoyed that shower. It would have been even better, but when I went to sit on the shower chair after scrubbing my flabby body and skinny legs, Cartilage Choe snapped painfully. I would not risk bending the knee enough to sit on that low chair. Still, no moaning. It was a good session under the shower all the same. I was expecting a tumble, slip, a bruising knock or something of that ilk throughout. But I escaped the shower, turned the power off, got a towel from the heater ready to dry myself off, and realised how well things had really gone up to now. This put me in ‘Alert Mode’. I dried off, using paper towels for the catheter bag. Now for the medications.

I started with the medicationings. And again, things went well once more, well, obviously not the Ointmenting of Little Inchies fungal lesion. That is usually the major paingiver. Harold’s Haemorrhoids handle the Germoloid ointment well. My Spanish Onion-sized right testicle almost welcomed the Savlon creaming. I couldn’t reach all the barrier cream-needing areas. I’ll ask the Carer to do them later for me. Then, seeing the ferrule marks reminded me to wash the four-pronged Metal Micky, the walking stick.
I let him soak in the sink for a while with spirit vinegar, bleach and washing-up liquid mixed in.
But the towel and togs in the laundry basket, and got a khagoule on.
Then went back with a stiff brush to clean Wally’s ferrules in the wetroom.
It took a bit of effort, but I appreciated that I’d had no Whoopsies of any kind during the ablutions – this had not happened for months!
I remained on ‘Alert Mode.’

I filled bottles of spring water and a brew of 99 tea. Then, I got the computer on. But not for long. I got an unexpected rumbling-innards call back to the Porcelain Throne. How did things soften up so quickly? This is all a part of the mysteries of this block of flats, with the apparitions, phantoms, succubi and the paramnesias, who torment residents… well, me, anyway! Hahaha!

Carer Ejaz came. Full-body check and barrier cream were applied where I couldn’t reach the areas.

Blogging.
Only one recognised seizure. Up to now.
Carer Joe; laundry taken down. Letters opened. He rang the Audio place about the appointment I’d missed. Medications, Peptac given.

Got something to eat, bacon sarnies, and fell swiftly asleep. Zzzz!

Early Little Nosh

Late Little Nosh

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