Carer Ejaz

Inchy Today: Sunday 6th July 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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TO HIS SERIES OF DREAMS LAST NIGHT
I hiked there in my warped realisation.
The result of a moment’s aberration,
Off for an afternoon spent riparian,
I enjoyed this on Bristol’s River Avon,
Ah, the peace, no altercation…
I saw my first coprophagan…
Missing the cow turds, with attention,
No visits from Agathodaemon…
I felt totally free of depression,
A gentle breeze, the sun my guerdon,
On the river, flotsam & hymenopteran,
So peaceful, no thoughts bacchanalian,
My mind wandered off on its own volition…
Viewing the world without condemnation,
I fell asleep, & found perfection…
Suddenly, no hatred, wars, crimes or derision!
Harmony, with Angels, each a protecting guardian,
All around me, people dressed Edwardian,
Azaleas, looking up at me, showing their apotropaism,
No scent of fear, or need of apogeotropism,
Then, I feared for this imaginary kingdom,
Knowing what lies ahead, I had the wisdom…
A man filling his pipe, his girlfriend paying attention,
Would she lose him in a war, perhaps the Crimean?
Senghenydd explosion, 439 men died while mining,
I woke up to find I had a problem,
A water-filled, leaking Wellington!
Maybe a seizure, I thought, after an interregnum,
This was all beyond my comprehension,
Yet the day felt real, in fact, so idyllian,
I even managed a little self-irrision,
I felt joyful, blithe, with exhilaration…
But riddled with suspicion…
Was today all but an illusion?
I’ll have to give this some consideration!
I certainly felt a strange abnormalisation…
I got there & back without transportation?
I searched but found no medication,
Ah… I’m at a different location!
Brookfield Place, under Arkwright St station,
All gone now, not in my memory & imagination,
It smells the same, soot & smoke from the train station,
The rag & bone man, horse & cart creating a ruction,
We try to get an increase in price, but get a reduction,
I saw myself poor & undesirable, a bezonian…
This dream is like a circumbilivagination,
The stable, the wood yard, folks in contradiction,
What I see may well be a conceptualisation…
But to me, it was a reassuring actualisation,
The smell of boiling bones for the gruel,
Not that I ever thought this was cruel,
Survival meant we had to be adaptable,
Cow heel, rabbit; if one were catchable,
Mother found cigarettes to be ascertainable,
Usually scrounged, stolen or pocketable,
As a small lad, others found me punchable,
Despite this, I remained compliable,
Although the neighbourhood was a little tribal,
Everyone had a go at me, it seemed logical,
I thought this was to be expected and normal,
I’ve always been easy to clobber & bumfuzzle,
Never knew why, but Mother called me her barnacle,
They pulled the old Meadows down… terrible!
It’d be a treasure to anyone archaeological!
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0535hrs: I think I woke just after having a seizure of some kind or other. Because I was so confused and wobbly on my feet when I dismounted the bed to sort out the nocturnal catheter. I felt the need for the Porcelain Throne brewing up in my innards.

Dizzy Dennis joined in the sensations as I slowly hobbled, with a degree of balancing difficulty, to the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a messy and extremely long affair. The time spent cleaning up the limbs, bottom, and porcelain was worse because I kept getting dizzy each time I bent down. 
Another mystery from Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Dank Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhoea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morgana, hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.

But as I hobbled back to the kitchen, I realised it was as if someone had corrected my balance, and the Dizzy Dennis had gone off into the ether?

As I thought about this gift, with her stabbing pains started in the neck this time. And spent three hours touring around my torso. Under the left arm, right chest, centre chest, back to the neck, almost up to the chin, right chest… etc.
When she suddenly stopped, I wasn’t surprised; she must have worn herself out. Hehehe!

I poddled out onto the balcony to take a couple of shots of the view in the rain, through the windows, of course.
I had to take a shot from the end of the balcony as the innards were gurgling and rumbling again. Once again, was in control. At least it wasn’t as messy as the first. But it was extremely gooey! Smelly-Phoo, too!

Back to the balcony to take a window end shot.
Although I am not very often pleased or confident about anything I do nowadays, this one I was happy with.
. Hehe!

Carer Ejaz rang the intercom. I fumbled my way to the box, pressed ‘receive,’ and the panel showed Ejaz on his phone. I then pressed the release button on the door. The intercom chimes started again, and the inner lobby door had not opened! I tried again, but no success. (No success? Could that go on my plaque at the crematorium? – Or, as someone suggested last year, would this be better: “He came, He failed, He Went?”  Got carried away again there. Sorry. So, I’d got my dressing gown on from when I went out onto the balcony to take the fantastic, wonderful, magnificent photo above left. Haha! So I went down to admit Ejaz.
How long will this visit last? I’m absolutely loving this mood! 👍🏾

Ejaz was wet from the rain, poor lad. He got the prescription medications sorted for me and reminded me to take the B12 supplement. No Peptac or Cetraben is needed. As Anne Gyna was on a break, the legs, ankles, and feet that had been fed to bursting point over the last three weeks are looking great, super-duper! Yee-Haa!

I made a determined effort to complete yesterday’s blog. Although, was, for some reason going blurring my sight, almost as bad as she does when I look at the sunshine.

A couple of hours later, the intercom rang again. It was the Iceland order arriving. I tried to tell him the door might not work and that I’d be down to open the lobby door manually for him. I’m not sure if he heard me, as the screen dies within a few seconds. So, I got dressed again, and as I was leaving to go down, the driver arrived. He put them in the kitchenette for me.
The first thing I noticed was the big bag of toilet paper. They were a bit more expensive than my usual ones, but it was the sale price, and it stated they were triple-ply. So, with getting frisky with me, I thought it best.
What a Mistaka to Maker!
👎🏼Just look at the size of this sheet that I photographed! Pathetic!
I swear that it will take a third of a roll to wipe my bottie after a evacuation!
As I photographed a selection to go into the fridge, I noticed that Iceland Foods had done it again. 👎🏼The steak slice had a must-be-used-by date of Today!
👎🏼And, disappointment number three from Iceland Foods, the baby potatoes. I had to throw away six of them. (see the photo on the right). They were either split or had black spots near the surface; some had both! 👎🏼When I opened a pack of the shortcake biscuits, they had been ready-pre-crushed for me. The company’s new slogan is Google tells me:
👎🏼“That’s why we go to Iceland” Huh!👎🏼
Free delivery, though, as long as you spend £40.
No mention of the fee for picking, packing and carrier bags. But one has to be fair. Asda often pre-crushes your bread to make it easier to digest; their dates are dodgy, too.
Even J Sainsbury sent Royal Farms Grown Anya potatoes last week with black spots, and they were to be used by the same day as the delivery. And cheesy cobs. But with Trump, Putin, Xi Jinping, and Sparkling Toolmaker’s Son Starmer doing their best to prompt World War Three, does this really matter enough to bother about? Maybe not!

A Little Quiz: There was an item in one of the photos that Carer Mizra pointed out had ingredients. Here they are; see if you can find out which product it was from them. Ingredients: Beef (1800P08 per 1g) of beef xxxxxxx. Seasoning: dextrose, caster sugar, salt, onion powder, yeast extract, tomato powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, caramelised sugar. Natural flavouring: Citric acid, smoked maltodextrin, oregano, liquorice powder, paprika extract, salt, vinegar, potassium sorbate. The seven X’s replace the name of the product. The first comment winner will receive a Certificate Of Merit on the blog.

Carer Mizra arrived, also rather damp-looking.
He took a minute or two to examine the new mobile, trying to figure out how to change the ringtone and make it louder. No luck, but he tried. Thanks, Mizra. Ejaz tried without any luck the other day. I don’t think the option is on the phone at all. They both comprehend the workings of new phones. I think this one has no choice.

I persevered with this blog. And I got some of the photos uploaded and into the WordPress gallery… this is when, to the best of my knowledge, the first seizure occurred. This was a decent, lengthy one, nothing like the five-hour one I had earlier in the week, but again, I was all over the place mentally and physically when I emerged from it. It was replaced by confusion . 
I found that while in the seizure, I’d been working on the blog. I made a right mess of it, which took me ages to get right again.
It took me half an hour of just sitting here feeling sorry for myself, especially after the longest-ever unbroken visit from .

All the effects were lessening when Carer Mizra returned. During the time he was here, clarity returned, along with something that amazed me, but it was back in my head again. No rhyme or reason. Nothing had changed, apart from Carer Mizra calling and the head and dizzying clearing. Yet, I’m in a Sod-Them all mode again. Unbothered, unworried? How I wish I could summon Horis up when I need him! 🤸🏻‍♀️

Back on the balcony.
The rain had stopped. I got a decent shot of the famous end of the car park’s mudflow.

Then, the amazingly dull but still gorgeous sky. Then I’m afraid that things have changed slightly for the worse!
A dual attack coordinated by and hit me; this was not good.

The last Carer call was with Mizra. When he was here, joined in. Mizra had never seen (or heard) Roger in action before.
He seemed genuinely worried, asking if he should call an ambulance. No sooner had he gone than the rain came again. I took a snapshot of it from the closed kitchen window.

Back to the blogging. Thinking and praying for the return of . No luck! 

I continued with this lengthy blog. Suddenly, I realised it was 05:00hrs! No wonder I was feeling done in. I had no energy for food preparation, so I saved the things and closed the computer.

It took all the energy I had left just to climb into bed. For the first time ever, I ignored the panic-thoughts of Did I lock the door. Are the taps turned off, etc? I was not feeling too well and was too tired to be bothered. Well, that was a first!
Luckily, nothing was found amiss in the morning.

Apart from the fact that I was so far out of it.

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TTFNski.
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Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
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I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I  , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I  caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that  my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all. 
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time! 
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
pillockI soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd July 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

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It’s amazing what you think of in the shower,
In a bath, or on the Porcelain Throne,
Cutting tomatoes three times, I’ve stabbed Starmer,
Once, sat on the WC naturally all on my own,
Doing a crossword, trying to find an answer,
Got a Dizzy, & I fell off, and broke my anklebone,
In the ambulance, I remembered Asda…
When they substituted cough drops with a dog bone,
That must have been about 1998 in November,
I’d have complained, but didn’t have the backbone,
The funny things I recollect and remember,
Last month, I burnt my dressing gown,
Fishing, I’d puff my pipe of Erinmore mixture,
That could be why I never won a match fixture,
And today, up to now, I have not suffered a seizure,
In 1980, I bought my Nokia 100 mobile phone,
Got a new one, too complicated, like a megillah… 
So, I went back to Nokia,
When I clocked for the micropsia,
I went and bought another,
I can’t recall its nomenclature,
It might have been Motorola,
I was no necromancer…
But I was an obtruder,
Changing the SIM, I cut my finger,
It bled on the Nokia, no, the Motorola,
A whiff of smoke, I’d left it in the charger,
Yet again, I went back to the Nokia,
I still use it, though we’re both much older,
I can’t see it, and I’m much deafer,
I’m tired and hungry; I’ll have a cob with tomato!
I’m losing the plot again, but no problemo…
Tomorrow, I may muse over crocodiles in the Orinoco.

I am sick and tired of listening to myself moan as things continue to keep going wrong.
Now (Wednesday), I could face a farcical first-time calling Carer for the three-hour visit I pay for. This is supposedly for them to have time to do the laundry, check the banking figures, advise me on mail received, and occasionally have time to mop a floor or clean the oven for me. Carer Joe used to get all these jobs done for me, and I didn’t need to worry.
Carer Ejaz, who has substituted for Joe twice, when I became more confused answering his questions about where things were and what to do. 
I assumed Ejaz would be replacing Joe. But, No! I got a telephone call this morning from ICC (the Carer company). They are sending someone I’ve never heard of. Mind you, the phone line had terrible reception. (I wish they’d use the landline.) Either Jackie or Johnny will be coming this afternoon. It’s possible that whoever it is has been there before, and I’ve forgotten the name, of course. However, they will not be aware of my needs, and some of them will even take control and do as they please, ignoring me as if I weren’t there. But how can I deal with the blog, the possibility of the Oligarch Meter installers working, and then Nurse Hristina 🤎 taking the blood samples? Possibly Matron Jackie calling, and or the Catheter Changing Community nurses and the Neurologist who failed to call yesterday might get through. All this, and I have to stay aware of what’s going on around me. What needs to be done hasn’t been done, or has been missed altogether. However, my EQ just gave me good-jibes about whoever comes to do the extended Wednesday visit, positive.

Let’s face it, I can lose track just talking with myself!
The slightest happening, such as a phone call, the doorbell ringing, or going to the toilet, is each alone sufficient for whatever I was doing, going to do, or needed to do to be instantly discarded from my previous diabetic dementia, but has now been changed. Having been recently reclassified as Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment.
So what chance will I stand if those who didn’t come yesterday might call today, along with a strange Carer (I think), who needs to learn from me (Hehehe!) all the needs of the extended Wednesday visit?
Even if none of them call (Although J called to return the hand washing today, bless her 🌺).

Just a few photos, I’ll add further details of the Carers’ visit later on… I hope it goes well, but it doesn’t bode well for the future if it does not!

No shave. Two visits to the Porcelain Throne, both needing a good clean-up after the evacuation was completed.

The pins and plates were in better shape today!
I received a phone call on the landline. Oh, more joy, it was from my DVT Nurse, Hristina.
To advise me that she would be calling to take blood for the Warfarin INR test in the morning, between 10:00 and 12:00 hours. Lovely!🤎

I went onto the balcony to take a shot of the view.
Took this one of the old dilapidated three-wheeled walker, and forgot to take the view shot. Tsk!

I created the daily Ode eventually.

Care Ejaz arrived. 

Call from ICC Carers. A Jackie or Jody will be doing the extended visit today.

I started this actual blog. Made a brew.

The long-visit Carer arrived. Nice gal, her name was Josie. I took my Kaftan off, put it in the laundry bag, and Carer Josie took it down with the laundry for me. On her return to the flat, she got the kitchen floor mopped for me. Did a good job. Then she checked through the food for out-of-date products. And wiped the inside of the fridge after.
Cheese, lemon juice, jellies, food colouring, yoghourt and a few other food items were put in the rubbish.

Josie helped me search for another elderly person’s mobile phone, but we couldn’t find one that charges from an electrical outlet. Not from a computer. 

Josie went down to collect the dried clothes, returned and hung them up for me.
Time for her to go, a lovely gal. I asked if she would be doing the Wednesday visits each week. A shame that she didn’t know or not. I hope so!

I chopped up an orange tiger-tomato and some red onion and added it to the stew to be cooked in the microwave later.
Put the dish back in the fridge.

Then back on doing this blog.

I tried another search for a suitable mobile phone and found one for the older models that had a direct link between the charger and the phone. I ordered one from Amazon. Due on Friday.

Late afternoon shot.

The fridge after Carer Josie had finished. Nice!

The meal of the day, Stew!

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Dasvidaniya!
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Inchy’s Wednesday Ode: 18th June 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Some people are far too cold-blooded,
Many are masked and hooded…
It’s bad enough with criminals, domestic,
Making innocents fear and agoraphobic,
Brawls, fights, altercations, and fracas,
A scuffle can turn into a bloody ruckus,
A squabble, uproar, a ten-man battle,
But when countries go to war…
A hand grenade can kill men by the score,
Children killed by drones they never saw,
Oligarchs: filthy-rich, the proletariats poor,
Breeding discord, disharmony, dissension & more,
Urgeing, uprising, uproar as they clamour…
To sell weapons they supply, for more & more,
Encouraging violence, anarchy, even heresy,
Ensuring inharmoniousness, no peace anymore,
No one dared to challenge Putin’s Ukrainian war.
Now, similar ideas are coming from Starmer,
Trump threatens Greenland & Canada,
Aggression greeted with apathy…
The Middle East, with even more ferocity…
The West does nothing volitionally,
So, wars, conflicts, hostilities, and animosity…
Bloodshed, confrontation, discord and enmity,
Few citizens are generally syntonic,
More people are turning Satanic…
Youths need drugs, glue, something somnific,
Lone pensioners’ lives are pathetic, threnetic,
This Ode is sounding a little threnodic,
Humankind seems understandably tenebrific,
To pacifists, wars and violence are petrific,
To the murderous cliquey-elite, the Oligarchic…
What use is your wealth? 
If you kill off the Earth?
The deaths you organise…
Yes, you do profit wealthwise,
You can afford the best healthwise,
The cruelty & greed that you epitomise…
I’m trying here to philosophise,
Why? I don’t claim to realise,
that the financial elitists,
Must they have their frailties?
Too late, the World cannot be stabilised,
Earth’s wealth & assets you have conquered,
By the greedy, you were revered,
As long as they were back-handed,
While bombed children, starved & died!
Wars, death, will peace ever be revived?,
Will peace ever be accepted?
Can hatred be overcome or aborted?
Will armageddon let the poor be watered?
Why are crooked politicians never convicted?
Starmer’s many fibs, corrected, or correlated?
Ex-barrister; so they might get copyrighted,
If Keir, Putin & Trump were ousted…
I’d prefer it if they were cremated,
Or, hung drawn & quartered,
Would the proletariat voters be contented?
No! New weapons would be invented,
Peace would again be circumvented,
Relatives of the dead and wounded…
Would not be noticed or comforted,
A new liar-crook would be elected,
World Peace will never be an achievement,
War’s continuation, deprivation & bereavement,
Cost of living ever more accrescent,
The coming of the Lord is still abeyant,
Blood flows, citizens acquiescent,
Is this my summer of discontent?

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A sparse one today, I didn’t get the Ode finished until Thursday gone noon. No photos were being recognised again on the Computer, but a few were on Thursday afternoon. Very weird!
Up at 05:10hrs.
My night bag was removed. Revealing a bright light shade for the NHS record.
Started on the Graphics for the blog.
Carer Ejaz did a quick call. Medications, and he hoovered a bit. I forgot to ask him to empty the bucket and put the vacuum on charge.

Mini seizures kicked off. It’s incredible how unbalanced I feel when I come back. The longer ones seem easier to recover from. I think I shouldn’t have said that! Not with my luck. Haha!

Grammarly problems delayed me further. I started to download the CCleaner update, but I couldn’t figure out what to do with the new layout. I thought I’d got it downloaded and in the file. But no. I’ll have to wait until Carer Joe arrives, I’d be lost without his help.

Carer Joe saved the day yet again! He went through the uploading procedure, and ‘Wallah!’, it was loaded and installed. Still confused over what two of the three programmes are all about. Joe opened some mail, and there was nothing to worry about.
I did forget to ask him about the hospital and the Audio clinic appointments situation. Tsk! I’ll ask him tomorrow, if I remember to. (I did! )

I got some photos adapted into graphics, and they turned out all right. Only these two, though.
Isle of Man tomatoes, five different varieties.
Hashed potato chunks. The red spring onion was massive and so strong, it was lovely! Two ready-to-eat Silesian sausages. Salt & vinegared. I ate two cheesy-topped bread rolls with them, no fillings needed.

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🌼MAY YOUR DAY BLOSSOM! 🌼
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Inchy: Tuesday 17th June 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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It’s time for me to transubstantiate…
I’ll just look the word up, mate…
Transform, metamorphose? Maybe modulate,
Life does exasperate, frustrate & aggravate,
Of course, it wasn’t like this in 1958,
Things were different back in the day,
One could write without using an apostrophe,
More social neighbours, though a clanjamfray,
I missed out on all things scholastically,
But I worked to earn, & live antediluvially,
I note that this Ode lacks articulacy,
Symmetry, logicality & although true, reality?
Sometimes, my thought box lacks adequacy,
I lose my own plots, I go self-admonishingly…
Deep into thoughts, waveringly…
It’s a strange world, brain; it didn’t used to be.
Once-certain plots fade, sometimes completely,
Crumble disappears, as does my general alacrity,
Things need to change urgently, straight away,
If seizures, concentration, recollecting, my memory…
If all my ailments can be sorted, then just maybe…,
Starting with those affecting me mentally,
Seizures and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Then I might live less forgetfully?
And those that affect my alterity,
I can live with not hearing clearly,
Glaucoma needs to be treated so I can see?
A bladder miracle so I can pee?
Anne Gyna needs pain relief urgently,
Duodenal Donald Reflux Roger, Dan Dyskinsia,
The fungal lesion on poor Little Inchie…
I’ve suffered since August 2013,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, since 1993,
A mechanical aorta that went painfully!
I think I was coping well until I grew elderly,
Then the stroke, which left me strugglingly,
These aren’t written exactly chronologically!
District nurses call on me monthly,
For the catheter contraption swap, that hurts me,
Nurse Hristina, blood tests, she is lovely,
As is a rare caller, Matron Jackie,
The Matron came to see me today,
Tended the wound on Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
I think I may have arteriopathy.
My ambolyphy comes on earlier in the day lately,
The tiredness & weariness, earlier every day,
If you live long, then this is how you pay…
And with Arthritis, cartilage failing & FND,
Thanks to Starmer, I’ve far less money,
Gawd knows how much I owe for electricity,
But I don’t hate the dishonest backhander-taker,
Proof that I can still act astuciously?
No, I now despise and detest the bugger!

I’m so busy that I’ve fallen behind with everything. Many happenings and much confusion. I’ll have to miss some of them and shorten others. Sorry. DOUBLE SORRY! Cause I spent over 16 hours waffling on and getting new ideas, self-lambasting actually. Recalling from photos and badly scrawled notes. The odd things, like Matron doing my leg & telling me off, are clearish in my miserable memory. Hehe!

Nocturnal pouch.
Morning view.
Health Checks are all good, 
bar one BP reading.
Leg wound.
Food delivery.
Tomatoes.
More Tomatoes, cheesy rolls.
Gorgeous garden peas!
Meats, cheesy cobs.
Leg after Matron Jackie’s visit.
She worked out that the temperature
taker was out of balance and the BP 
machine needed to be thrown out or
recalibrated. The Blood Oxygen box
was okay. I’ll stop doing them now.
That should save me some time.
The Matron put some pads and a
plaster on the leg wound. Said if the 
plaster does fall off, I’m to ring the
Community number to get a nurse to
come and refit and check the leg.
A nurse will call in a few days to
see how it is. No showering for a
time now, then. The leg hurt more
after the treatment, but this was
expected, as whatever was on the
pads started to take effect. Oddly,
the electric shocks up the leg 
have kicked off again; they don’t 
half make me jump. Har-har!
Carer Ejaz, first call. Took the two bags of waste, mainly from the freezer and fridge. Outdated, to make room for the… wait for it… 10 bags of potato chunks that I’d idiotically ordered!
Life is getting a little more confusing, hard luck, mistakes & cock-up ridden!,
Sandra’s Mini Seizures played with and stayed with me as soon as I gave up on blogging, intending to make something to eat…
The memory blanks developed; I think Carer Joe helped again, but at this moment (Wednesday morning, 08:45hrs, the blanks returned. I’d just made a right clanger on the computer, and was in semi-panic mode, so this was not surprising.

Took a shot of the view late evening.
Then the tiredness and lack of concentration developed, a little later than usual.

Then, after a messy Trotsky Terence visit to the Porcelain Throne and a wash, I felt up to making something to eat.
Two delicious cheesy-topped, no-butter buttered rolls with tomatoes inside, three Silasain sausages, pickled mushrooms, last of the cooked bacon, and some of the potato chunks done in the oven. 
It tasted delicious. But my weariness must have had some effect (not half!), as halfway through eating it, I nodded off to sleep. Very fortunately, the tray was still balancing, albeit precariously, on the wobbly belly.
So, no mess to clean up! Off to the kitchen with half the cold meal on the tray, threw it away, washed up the dish and cutlery.

I then fetched the Kodak Tim from the other room and took this rather appealing photo of the sun sinking in the dark

The following events are not available.
Regular Service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Although that is a virtual impossibility, a chimaera, fantasy, flight of fancy, imaginative faculty, falsification, deception, porky-pie, terminological inexactitude, figment of the imagination, great imaginativeness. A piece of fiction, tarradiddle, buncombe, folderol, phooey, hogwash, a cruel deviation from the truth.
Nothing will ever be proper, safe, or acceptable again. Nor contain the slightest smidgeon of ambition, optimism, anticipation, aspiration, encouragement, hopefulness, hopes, confidence, and optimism will be obliterated, no longer extant, snuffed out. 
By whom or what?
I gave this some thought.
Xi Jinping, Starmer, Putin and/or Trump.
Premordid Cognitive Impairment.
Functional Neurological Disorder.
Approaching, Almost here, Armageddon.
Artificial intelligence, Climate change, Cyberattack, Environmental disaster, Nuclear war, Asteroid impact, Planetary or interstellar collision, A powerful solar flare, solar superstorm or a solar micronova, Extraterrestrial invasion, Natural pandemic,  We run out of water. Uninhabitable Universe: The ultimate fate of the universe is uncertain, but it is likely to eventually become uninhabitable. Then, there is ‘A reversal of Earth’s magnetic field’, Supervolcano Eruption, A Rogue Black Hole, Bioterrorism, Resource Depletion, Nanotechnology, and, highly likely, Bad governance from our country’s leaders.What is the biggest threat to the world?
While extinction is the most obvious way in which humanity’s long-term potential could be destroyed, there are others, including irreversible collapse and inevitable dystopia.
This little outburst from Inchy is possibly indicative of his insanity, his mental state, and perhaps assisted by his Peripheral Neuropathy, Stroke aftereffects, frustrations, inabilities, disabilities, mind-blanks, or his helplessness, hopelessness, feebleness, ineptness, maladroitness, uselessness, unsuccessfulness, worthlessness, ineffectiveness, & inadequacies?
Bad ears, eyes, ticker, Cathy Catheter, Cartilages Chloe & Carol, Arthur Itis in both knees, regular falls and dropping stuff, Dementia, old age, Anne Gyna, FND, of mayhap he’s just going bonkers?
Yes, we’ll settle for that! A Glaikit!

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Beginning to worry about me. Hehehe!
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WHAT A DAY!

Inchy’s Ode: Thursday 12th June 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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My youth & teens were spent as a cycler,
A few years later, I became more adulter, 
Having a motorbike license, I bought a 3-wheeler,
Driving it inside, at first, felt weirder,
It was appreciated by Grizelda,
And driving it was far less colder,
Romantically, I got a bit bolder,
Our passions began to smoulder…
I got urges, I don’t mean in my shoulder,
But she was a big gal, my Grizelda,
Lack of room hampered our kissing and cuddling,
Needed a bigger car to get my Zipperdeedoda!
I bought a Skoda Estelle, which was bigger, 
Seat laid back flat: room to romp and jigger!
Satisfied each other’s needs, which was avuncular,
I was nimble, Gorgeous Grizelda was muscular,
We merged, entangled each other’s appendicular,
Blending, integrating our torsos together, 
In the car, no worry about the weather,
Then things got astronomically better!
She moved into my flat that winter,
I was existing surrounded by ambrosia,
Life seemed heaven-sent, never sublimer,
She girded my loins pleasantly harder,
No female before was ever so yummier,
No female before was ever hairier,
Solid, thick thighs would squash yer…
Gawd! How I miss Grizelda!
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Crappy night’s sleep, broken again, but this time I had an idea what was causing the bursting awakes. I found myself with a sore throat and coughing after each awakening. Due to my cock-ups during the day, some of which will be admitted to and told of later, I’ve lost the time I made up a little yesterday.
Of course, I take all this in my stride.
There I go again, I’ve lied! 05:30hrs: 
I gave up on my sleep-seeking.
Night catheter pouch off.

05:45hrs: Kitchen view.

Medications.

More Medications.

And, some more Medicationalisationings.

Came across my Anticoagulation Card.
2004, I think. Hehe.

Ticker & Blood Tests.

NOT GOOD AT ALL!
But at least the blood oxygen has improved.

Several hours on the blogging.

Carer Ejaz arrived.
NOT GOOD AT ALL!
He handed me the medications, and I put them in my mouth and started to pour in some spring water.
Nothing would go down my throat, tablets or water.
I gagged a bit and had to spit everything out. Some of the tablets that had been in my mouth with the water had disintegrated as I tried to swallow for a while.

Ejaz thought I’d swallowed some because he couldn’t find the tablets in the bin. I examined the waste bin I’d just spewed up in. I recognised the beta-blocker, Codeine, and Ramipril; the others had either melted of dissolved. He was told not to give me anymore again, as I may overdose. How, when I didn’t swallow any in the first place, was puzzling. It’s not the lad’s fault. I waited until he had gone and just took those I knew were needed. Codeine, Ramipril and a Beta-blocker. Shook me up a smidge. No problems taking these? Or since?

Asda delivery arrived.
I explained my problem with bending down, as I do with any not-seen-before driver, and asked if he could put the stuff in the carriers I’d supplied.
Well, if nothing else, you’ve got to appreciate the way he crammed the crisps in; it might be a crisp-pre-crushing process they are trying out?

Peas Split bag,
Tomatoes, box ripped,
Tomato bruised.
These were from Ocado last week.
Morrisons sent me a pre-crushed loaf.

Went to make a small meal.
Washing the dishes, I dropped the bowl as I emptied it. All over the floor, and trod it all over.
Washed it and realised the potatoes were probably burnt now. Taking out the oven tray, I dropped that on the just-mopped kitchen floor and realised the bottom of the slippers was now leaving grotty black marks as well!
Took the slippers off and put them in the laundry bag. Getting the other pair on… Lost my balance and hit my shoulder and armpits on the £300 second-hand shop bought in c1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
Eventually, I got around to making a mug of Glengettie tea. Took the meal through to the recliner and fetched the tea through. The door chime chimed.
Carer Jyoti. The meal and tea were cold when I got back to them.
I went to throw the fodder away and make another brew. I decided to make some spring water bottles to meet the demands & needs of the catheter & bladder.
Yes, I dropped the bottle! I stood there watching as it spun around, spraying water all over the kitchen floor! Although I had to force myself not to cry… the self-cursing, terrible language, Depression Duncan, and general disbelieve at the last hour’s event… followed by more bad language… I cursed myself that much, and I was shaking with anger so much that I got a rare headache.

Must remember to tell Carer Joe about the phone call I had while Carer Jyoti was here from the Social Lady regarding the wheelchair. She asked questions about various things, but I lost the plot as confused as I got. Carer Jyoti spoke with her. Can’t recall the details. I did ask for her number to ring, though, for Joe to contact her.
07812 277786 Tues > Thursday. 08:00>16:00hrs.

The muslin cover bags that Social no longer supplies, which I have to buy from Amazon, arrived.

Taking this shot of the view.
The pains from the catheter tube pullling on Little Inchie and his lesion kicked in. Tried different positions for the straps, but the bugger was still hurting when I was trying to sleep later on and into the morning. Painful!

Carer Joe called, and I told him my woes, but I don’t recall (I do a lot of this) mentioning calling the Social lady or her name. Humph!

No meal, of course. I had crisps and an ice cream.
And soon nidded off. I woke up by the arrival of Carer Ejaz. I recall a little about this call.
Ejaz took the waste bags.

As tired as I felt, fretting over this, and that caused me problems getting to sleep.
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A bad day, needless to say!
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Inchy’s Ode: Thursday 5th June 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Or instead, hospital – Inchy Cocked it up again!
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The start of the end was busier…
Although I was taken prisoner,
Acceptance of fate, but no apnea,
They forced us to build a bonfire,
It was my first visit to Berkshire,
Defeated? It brought with it aporia,
Our captors seemed quite avuncular,
They gave us first-aid and dinner…
I came out of my dream of Starmer.
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Mood swings today.
So far behind, it is not tomorrow at 16:35hrs.
This is as far as I got on this blog.
Few reminder notes that can be read.
Not much on it, but there are a lot of unreadable lines of gobbledygook on the notepad.
Anne Gyna is rampant, but it worsened in the morning. As I write this, my concentration is all over the place. I’ll have to guess and rush.
Not feeling at all good.

Nocturnal Pouch off. The urine was classed as a five by Carer Ejaz. To my eyes, it was a six. Just as well, I’ve got Ejaz visiting.

Had to handwashwash a nightshirt. Hug it in the wet room to dry.

My ankles looking good… ish!

Nurse Hristins came to take the blood. 💕
🤍💙💗

He stayed for too long and too often.

I think Carer Joe called and ordered some Catheter contraption spare parts for me.

Feeling hazy. Although not disabling, Annt Gyn is visiting now and then. Toothache Tiffany as well, now! I can take it – I lie!

An email from DHL, which Parsley Box has informed me, indicates that they will deliver the ready meals to me. I got a reference number and clicked on ‘Track’. Surely they can’t have started yet; it was only hours since Carer Joe… The address was in the USA?
Am I getting mixed up again, or aren’t I? DHL is doing the food, and DpP is the medicals? No idea what I’m doing here. Nothing new, mind you.

What a plonker! What a Dick! What Next?
I’ve been reading the wrong notebook page!
I got myself worked up at my stupidity…
Now I’ve got Duodenal Donald joining in with Anne Gyna, both stabbing away.
Now, I do feel poorly.
I’ll have to give up, sorry.
Make something to eat.

The Carer called while cooking.
After she’d gone, I made a right mess of finishing the cooking.

Friday Night.
Got to finish.
When I’ll get Fridays done…
I’m not even sure if I will or can.
I’m struggling.
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Sorry
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Inchy Today: Satur’Rotten’day 24th May 2025

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This is a sort of disclaimer.
Defending my brain’s abductor,
My cerebrum needs a new alternator,
Today, full of Whoopsiedangleploppery…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Good Glory!
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
As I write this, it’s 16:00hrs, Sunday,
07:15, I mean on Saturday…
Has angered & confused me continually,
Hot tap left running twice – Thoughts gory!
Struggled with the Peripheral Neuropathy,
Arthritis and cartilage, bad in each knee,
Glaucoma was making things hard to see,
I cut my finger on the zester,
Porcelain Throne visits, never messier!
What people said would not register,
My catheter tap was left open, pathetically…
Slippers, socks, feet, carpet wet, you see?
Leg ulcers turned deep zaffre…
Burnt my dinner, coughing & throaty,
Everything went more confusingly,
No one had time for a chat or natter…
What bit of hope I had began to wither,
I didn’t know if I was here, there or whether…
It was pouring with rain, a change in the weather,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan dawned,
No visits from High Horis, I felt scorned,
I got confused with the dates on the calendar,
The computer has a blue screen, whatsoever,
Each caller had a different Carer,
Lost without Carer Joe, he’s on holiday,
Fought against dates, mathematically,
My thoughts sadly went argumentatively,
And I was only talking to myself, sadly,
Then, I think you may agree…
I suffered catastrophe after catastrophe,
I washed the pots and put them away,
A Carer from the ICC,
Which naturally distracted me,
She left, I discovered, agonistically,
I’d left the tap running again. Glory be!
No ablutioning today as well, I can see!
Cleaning my togs first, carefully…
Rarely for this year, it was still rainy,
Then I tackled a job most risky…
The bowl of disinfected hot water…
To the main room, I had to porter,
No Accifauxpas, with that water,
Stuck my feet in the bowl, with anti-fungal,
But I forgot to fetch the towel…
So I dried off with some kitchen towel,
Went to empty the bowl in the in the WC,
Dropping it as I poured it into the toilet bowl,
I stubbed my toe, boy, did I howl!
I wanted to throw in the towel…
Instead, I made a brew…but I couldn’t find it. Nor my mobile!
Give up, swear, curse and growl,
Depression Duncan was invincible,
High Horis was absent or invisible…
Most of this is immaterial,
Bad-luck? I’ve had jugful…
I sank into a mental jungle,
My mind was in a twisted muddle,
Too many problems to juggle,
Life seems no longer manageable,
Everyday, more mishaps & trouble,
My brain & soul are no longer mutual,
My joints & bones are no longer malleable,
Problems not hideable or mothballable,
Cognitive Impairment, sanity not recuperable,
I’ve no slippers left because I’ve pee’d in them all,
Proving that I’m ever more adorkable,
I still feel that life nowadays is not workable…
I also seem to be growing more sulkable,
My thoughts & ideas are now circumstantial,
I sense I’m becoming somewhat augural,
In High Horis’s absence, I’m apoplectical,
I was once perceptible, & palopable,
Will Horis ever return? I’m still hopeful,
Gawd, that entity made me so cheerful,
Does this read all agathokakological?
With problems neurological & physical,
Seemingly ignored by anyone medical,
What chance? Is logic salveable?
Unobtainable, unreasonable, or unworkable?
Sorry, this may sound morbid, apocryphal,
It’s just that I’ve had a belly full,
Dementia, Incogniscence… are they…
mendable, rectifiable or even explainable?
I made a meal that looked rather eatable,
Unfortunately, in the morning, at half-past two,
I’d only been in bed for a minute, too!
Off again to the Porcelain Throne, I flew,
I had another ,
The evacuation started before it was due!
Much foul language was used, I can tell you,
It was unstoppable, smelly and impromptu,
More time lost, much cleaning up to do,
Arithmetic, I nowadays misconstrue,
But, did I enjoy my meat & potato stew!.

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Just had a short visit from!
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Today felt like anything go-wrongable went wrongable. Repeatedly.
My mind took a holiday.

Scribbled notes on the pad and a few photos triggered some memories.

04:20hrs: Removed the nocturnal catheter bag.
I Put the kettle on. Then, I soaked the socks in disinfectant from the urine mishap—how many times has that happened this week? I made up three waste bags. I put them near the front door, where they remained for two days with the following added ones. Could I remember to ask the caregivers to take them to the shute? No!
I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Tuesday.
By then, I’d overwritten the pictures taken as I got them all mixed up with each other. I must have lost at least a dozen photos! Self-hatred, stupidity, and a smidge of anger with myself.

Yet again, Unbelievable!
I was emptying the day bag, and the intercom rang; it was the Carer. As it seems habitual nowadays, I did not fully close the bleed valve on the catheter pouch.
More foul, self-cursing emanated.
Another high-risk activity is carrying a bowl of disinfected water to remove the pong of urine on my feet. Mind you, I’ve done it three times (not closing the valve and carrying water from the kitchen to the front room and back). No, I’ve done it four times this week. I ran the hot water tap cold six times. And I swore (Estimated) 12,456 times this week thus far. Only one more day left to increase these figures. (Which I can you now, I did!)

All my slippers are already in the laundry bag.
And with the Carer not putting on the diabetic socks, I walked the stink all over the rooms. I was not up to mopping, but I sprayed all the carpeting with a fabric freshener and the rooms with air spray. I still can’t find the small blue towel. But give me time. I’ve only been looking for it for two weeks. Untidy is the kindest word to describe the flat.

I think this photo might be from another previous day. Cause I can’t recall any prescription medications being delivered. Mind you, later on, when I got a phone call, the lady asked me why I had not attended the meeting with the neurologist at The Ropewalk. I felt silly asking where the Ropewalk was.
After cringingly apologising and thanking her for setting up a new emergency date for the examination (August 28th), I checked my calendar. There was nothing on there. .

Not sure about this photo either.

Or when this one was taken.
What day was it taken?

I went to get the much-needed ablutions done, but I needed to use the porcelain Throne first.

Morrison order. The photos have been overwritten—all of them! No, hang on. I’ll check to see if I put them in the wrong folder. I’d be daft enough to have…
Well, after searching, I could not find them in any file. I went on CorelDraw to download Tuesday’s files and realised I’d left the photos on the CorelDraw page. So, I had to change all the names and save them again to use here. I sense big cock-ups in the offing!
I found some snaps.
I think these were the right ones.
But…
They are, I’m nearly certain.
Well…

I had better stop here if I’m getting deeper into a quagmire of confusion with three days of blog photos and notes and the wrong days of events shared between the three. I think duplicity is a possibility for these three blogs. Sorry if this is so.

Many photos in the preview are different from those in the editor. I’m sorry again; I can’t find out why. If this continues, I’ll have to give up. Anger-Making!

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Cheers!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 21st May 2025

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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I’m aware that my rhymes, each & all,
Make me a Poetaster, if not a McGonagall,
My brain works, But I struggle to recall,
Events a minute ago, not recoverable,
But not things archaic, retrogressional,
1950, my chips were stolen by a seagull!
1953, getting thrown into Nottingham Canal,
The longer the memory, the more salvageable,
My humour can be dry and satirical…
Not skilful, clever, spiteful or sinful,
Aiming to make them laughable,
Lately, I’ve been naughtily overcritical,
Aimed at a man without principle…
You may agree that he’s objectionable,
Backhander-taking, greedy Starmer…
Who lied to get to be our Prime Minister,
His actions have been nothing but sinister,
His ministers say nothing, each a yeasayer,
Each one is a goffer, a doormat, a kowtower,
Even Labour voters begin to wither…
But why should I bother?
Humankind is doomed, whensoever, whatsoever,
I’ve been a Starmer-hating vilifier,
Hating him became obsessional,
Keir does his best, but he’s not professional,
Refuses to go to the confessional,
His promises, pledges, reversible,
Too clever to be pigeonholeable,
No accusations, prosecutions, I feel…
Existence will turn omnicorporeal,
A Labour government that’s oligarchal,
Common sense, compassion, gone occidental,
My Keir-bashing odes were not nonsensical
But my hopes for him are untenable…
And I thought he was so guillotineable!.
But, no, it was me being gullible!
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I anticipated today might be busy and Carer Joe would not be calling; he’s on holiday. But I did get help from Carer Ejaz, who made all the calls today.
The morning, spent struggling with the computer playing up, a few seizures, with Anne Gyna visiting on and off, was a good start because the depression didn’t get a look-in. Come midday, it got a bit busier. So much so that notes were not taken. I got confused with so much going on, but I seemed to take it all relatively unbothered. I accepted the pandemonium because I could do nothing to slow down or cope with them. This is true; It is now 23:15hrs. And I’ve only just ten minutes ago, made a start on this blog. I did get yesterday’s updated, and posted earlier in the day, though. Chalk and cheese.
At least we—Carer Ejaz and me—got some photos taken. I think I’ve got them in order… or close to. A late problem with CorelDraw cost me an extra hour, and the Ode writing was not as easy as usual. Concentration tiredness time came as using the dual late afternoon. The new Blood count & oxygen machine was used. I think I was using it right, but I may not have been. It kept flashing low on every occasion that I used it this week. A shame that the DVT Warfarin INR Nurse Hristina did not call. She could have guided me.

I’ll try to recall the unwritten things on the pad. Early morning is well documented, so I can bore you first. Hahaha!

Morning view from the kitchen.

Got the laundry bag filled and ready for Ejaz.

First visit to the wet room.

Made up the waste bags to go to the chute.
I burnt an oven tray last night and tried to salvage it, but it was impossible. I’ll have to stop burning my food. Twice yesterday! Tsk!

Had a brew of Co-op 99 tea and enjoyed it. Took the mug to wash… Found I’d left the hot water tap running and the freezer door open, and water (melting food) had spilt out onto the floor…

2nd visit. Messy again!

Salvation arrived in the form of Carer Ejaz. His first task was cleaning the kitchen floor for me. Bless him.
Then he took the laundry bag and put it into the washer for me.

While he was down there, I could not go in the kitchen until the floor dried, so instead of fetching an ice cream cone—it would probably have been too soft anyway—I raided my pot of cashew and pistachio nuts. A bad decision, that! 
I broke yet another tooth.

When Ejaz got back up and started hoovering, I showed him the half-tooth. He took a photo of my short-on-teeth mush for me.
Hehehe!

Then, two people from the Care Company arrived. They left a swipe fob and got me to sign an agreement to fit it. I think monitoring to ensure the carers don’t stay too long is the angle. They have to swipe in and out—a Carer tracker of sorts.

Ejaz went down to put the laundry in the dryer. We still have only one. Someone told Ejaz it should be repaired within three weeks.
The lad then had a go at the oven for me.

I took my meal of the day from the not-freezing freezer. I’ll have it soon; I’m feeling peckish.

On Ejaz’s next call, he took off my diabetic socks for me and rubbed some barrier cream on the ankles and legs. They looked better than yesterday, but the new growths climbing up the right leg were more painful when he took the sock off—tender, I think the word is—more than sore.

I worked on the Ode for a long time. The seizures had eased of a lot but   had returned. She’s still with me five hours later as I type this. But I’ll not complain; she’s been a lot worse; I can cope with moving stabs, which were less sharp than they usually are. But they stayed longer.

When Ejaz arrived, I was making the microwave meal and a pot of instant potatoes with added Leicester cheese. Time-wise, I’d lost the plot. 
I got it served up so Ejaz could put the nocturnal pouch on, as I’ll not be moving anywhere now. Just grafting away on this blog. (20:15hrs)
I’ll be trying these again from Iceland.
Tasty! On a Special offer at two for £4, too!
I sat with a drawer open, put the tray in it, and ate it while watching Heartbeat on the TV.
Which didn’t work out well cause I was also still working again on the blog’s Ode!

ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Primo Ballerina, & Warden Deana popped in as passing to see how things are going. Naturally, she hadn’t time for me to explain how things were going. Hehe!

The weariness and tiredness hit me more late than usual, but I still had much to do. I pressed on because I wanted to see the WP Reader and view and answer any WordPress comments.

Well, it’s early morning now.
Sleep sounds good to me. Hehehe!

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Cheerio, Mon Amis!
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Inchy Today: Friday 16th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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He’s getting senile and old,
His brain needs a remould,
Mind fogs, a sort of mind mould,
Problems not faced or unresolved,
No wins or successes to behold,
Frustrations make him frampold,
His health-ailments are manifold,
His thinking capacity is caracoled!
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Things were as bad as last September,
Albeit they are mayhap a bit bleaker,
Medications similar, Warfarin, a Beta-blocker,
For his dodgy ticker and Anne Gyna,
Took Durvalumab for bladder cancer,
Cut out Morphine, for that I’m gladder,
New seizures? They make me sadder,
The ankle growths tend to blister.
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As each day progresses, I feel browbeaten,
But thank heavens I’m not bed-ridden!
The seizures now come in a different combination,
Politics? No morals, just commercialisation,
Self-profit and wealth, greed, exploitation,
My legs & ankles have pustulation,
My mind’s full of fear & procrastination,
Political actions are mostly an abomination!
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I loath oligarchs, politicians & the aristocratic,
Arithmophobia, now I fear arithmetic,
Although I’m also dyscalculic & diplegic,
Many folks are worse off; some blind, paraplegic…
I think this might be prophetic or pathetic,
I’ve invented a word, Whoopsiedangleplopic!
When having an electroencephalographic,
To describe my life, my biographic
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Today was an up-and-down mess.
He kicked off early, and I thought he may have been with me in my sleep. He seemed deeply ingrained.
I took an early morning shot with Kodak Tim 2.

Then took over.
Followed without any logical reason, by chirpy , all my worries floated away. Then, varying types and lengths of seizures.
This pattern went on for the rest of the day. Well, up until now, at least (15:00hrs).
My concentration suffered later when I started doing the Ode, and it worsened. Oh, heck!

The JS order arrived. Ejaz put on my socks, and medications were issued. I had changed the catheter contraption back to the left leg. Ejaz put on the fresh pouch and straps for me. He did a good job. The ankles were looking much calmer this morning. Ejaz still put some barrier cream on them for me.
The scars left on top of the left leg by the catheter day bag still needed attention.
Later in the day, I felt the right leg day pouch to assess if it was filling up. I was a smidge concerned at all the water I’d been drinking, and the bag didn’t feel as if anything had got through to it. I decided to investigate and pulled up a long Yaohuole. I did feel like an idiot!
I’d forgotten that I’d moved it back to the left leg!

Carer Joe did the early afternoon call. No meds were needed. But I took some Peptac later.

Now, Anne Gyna is playing me up. The mini-seizures have been uncountable, but I think most were short. The two extremes of and  continue to keep swapping control of my emotions. Scary, really!

Going to get something to eat now while I’m on a high. I bet you by the time I’ve cooked and readied it,
will be back.
I hate it when this happens.

Best Nosh All Month!
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👍🏻 Keep Well, & Happy! 👍🏻
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