Inchy Today: Saturday 14th June 2025

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These are not in a chronological order,
But I’d like to bring back Grizelda,
See the slow death of Labour’s Starmer,
He’s more Tory than Margaret Thatcher,
Prove that Trump is getting barmier,
Putins warring, without any condemnation,
Backed by the Oligarchs conglomeration,
The West? Not even a chinwagging session,
We accept the coming desolation, perdition?

When things go wrong, I get contrarier,
And use profanity, blaspheming coprolalia,
It may be through pain or frustration,
Losing time with my blogging addiction,
Dementia Doreen, who causes me confusion,
Hysteria, delirium, drugs, intoxication?
Where do we see daily insanity & delusion?
In Governments, they turn into a dystopian,
Disheartened voters? A quattuordecillion!

A Few By-the-By Thoughts:
Whoever thought we’d stop using coal,
To save the earth? For what that is worth,
Footballers kiss when they score a goal,
Killers laugh when they are gaoled,
Judges: Life in prison commanded,
Freed in six years, hardly reprimanded,
A week later, another victim was murdered,
Eugene Brown, a killer, was then paroled,
Killed two more, a mother & son, Eduard,
Back to jail, he killed an inmate dead,
Starmer, the liar, really gets to me,
Lying like a barrister, he was one, wasn’t he,
Recalling my hatred almost abandonedly,
Maybe he’ll die of a heart attack, hopefully,
And soon would be nice, preferably,
But that won’t get back what he stole from me,
My Pensioner’s Winter Fuel payout, greedily,
But I’ll not seek revenge, almost certainly…
But, if I can repair my 303…

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04:40hrs, I leapt off of the bed, jumping over 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, did a double-flip, landing on my right foot, and burst into five-minutes of yodelling.
Oh, alright then…
The danged alarm went off at 04:40hrs. I anathematised, using curse words, in retaliation for the alarm going off, especially as I could not remember setting it last night. I thought I’d forgotten how to set the alarm many months ago, so I tried and failed. I do recall that because I got the voice message sign come up and can’t find out how to clear it. That is still on the screen; it has been there for over a year now. Why would I set it for this time, anyway?
I lost the plot there; where was I? Ah, getting up.
I got the nocturnal catheter pouch off the day bag. A perfect colour this morning. Later confirmed by the Carer as 3.5.
The acidy niggling at being woken up feeling slowly faded. As I was up, I’d start my daily tasks.

I started with a Porcelain Throne visit. A complete reversal this time. Super messy, nae, Mega-Messy. No chance of any crosswording this morning. By the time I had cleaned myself and the porcelain, the visit had cost me half an hour.

Still, no rush was there. I shaved first. Not a single cut! Body washed. The teeth & throat gargled. The nasal clearout was done. Then I  olive-oiled both ear-holes. Barrier-creamed areas that I could reach. Adjusted the tube-pulling catheter contraption straps and refitted them, and they were a lot less painful. 
Then, I got dressed, put the kettle on for a brew of Glengettie tea, and changed the calendar clock. Next, I started the Health Check routine. 
Much better returns again today, morning and evening ones in Normal High status.
The Blood returns were both acceptable, too!

I got the computer on, and Carer Manpreet arrived.
Medications were sorted, and then she barrier-creamed Haemorrhoid Harold’s bleeding rear-end and my male breasts. Showed her where the waste bin disposal chute was in the foyer. Said our farewells.

I got started on the blogging update and stuck with it despite the interruptions and my confusion about where I was and what I was doing before them.
All welcome, just the same.
I recall thinking that a seizure or seizures may be coming on. @ve had very few lately. I remember the two-hour out-of-it spell last week when I did nothing. Well, the current confusion felt similar. I took a snap of the view from the kitchen.

Carer Mirza came just after 13:00 hours for a quick checking call; he liked my Ode. Hehe! After he’d gone, things kicked off. First, Anne Gyna came on starting in the neck area, as she often does before a big stroke, and I thought, ‘Am I going to get one?’
I did.
I think the intercom sound (Carer Mizra arriving) brought me back. It’d have been approximately 17:25 hours that I’d been out of it for about four hours. I’d done nothing. The catheter bag had filled and was painful. When the Carer came in, he noticed that the blog screen was the same as when he had left.
The disorientation had my mind all over the place.

The after-effects were so different, and four hours might be the longest one I’ve ever had. I was trying to work out what had happened and why it was so different when Carer Manpreet arrived. Memories of this visit are bare.

The puffer clouds (or whatever they are named) caught my attention.

Carer Manpreet made the last call of the day, and I was in a much clearer state of mind. After she’d issued the medications, we had a little chat. We went into the kitchen to check the taps, etc. The rain was falling as the sun went down lower. I was going to take photos but decided against it because the sun was bright and might affect my eyes’ health due to My Glaucoma. Carer Manpreet kindly took these shots from the kitchenette window, capturing both the rain and the sun for me. She also sneaked this shot on the left here, of yours truly, as I was prepping the meal for cooking. Kind of her.

The meal turned out decent. Last of the tasteless bread, only tried one slice, binned the rest. Skin on chips, sausages, last of the raw peas, and last of the beef tomatoes.

I was lucky enough to get the pots washed and settled to watch TV before the mini-seizures started.
I seemed to be having them when the adverts went off, missing so much that I gave up and clambered into bed with the nocturnal pouch. Hehe! 

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Sweet Dreams, rest & Peace! 🤎
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Inchy’s Ode: Sunday 8th June 2025

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When I was ten, I was accused of debauchery,
I asked Dad if that meant moral decay or indecency,
He replied; Well, more decadency & depravity,
None of these words meant owt to me,
Get that wood chopped; we need to make money,
Or the whole family will end up eleemosynary!
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Of course, romance played a big part in my life,
Not that I ever got around to a wife…

Plans in that area left all skewwhiff,
What wiv me being under-tackled & a dwarf,
Romance? I wetted many a handkerchief,
At 14, passions & urges beginneth,
Old age? Satisfactions no longer cometh,
The only urge is to live until your hundredth!
Of course, I’m talking in Double-Dutch!
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Vit B12 shortage, problems, aneurysmatic
I’m not bothered, I’m almost apathetic,
But I’m keeping up being altruistic,
Joanne has a trapped nerve; doctors call it a tick?
Her Catheter problems, too, are autonomic,
Starmer rants on, being absolutistic,
Existing life gets more threnetic,
His action get evert more anapodeictic,
The UK is like Atlantis or the Titanic,
As Keir takes backhander, sipping gin & tonic,
Seeking self-wealth, to be aristocratic,
His lies leave a taste, foully aromatic,
Leaders, bring the end of all things telluric,
The chance of surviving? Microscopic, or telescopic!
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A rush job from here on, I’m afraid. Please forgive any mistakes, errors, or logical inconsistencies. Things missed off, anything out of sync. In fact, any Whoopsiedangleplopperies. I thank you.
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Pretty pink this morning, Haha!

Carer took this snap after an earlier tumble.
Don’t think I’ve used it before.

AGAIN! Concrete comes to mind.

My ankles looking better this morning.

Morning view.
This one was taken higher up.

Carer Rozma called. Meds, she checked my strong, muscular, young, driving-women-mad body.
Alright, alright, I was only joking. Hehehe!

Treat the back, & toes. I’ve acquired new pains under the same two toes on each foot. She said no marks or discolourations were showing. I suppose it might be the rheumatism spreading?

The bottom field looked attractive. Now, they have moved the empty bottles, carrier bags, birth-prevention rubbers, food and used needles away.
Although they do not show in this photo, the gorgeous spring flowers are blooming. Buttercups, daisies, crocus, I think I recognised in the zoomed-in shot on the camera that I took of them. Another of the
mysteries of Woodthorpe Court is the presence of hobgoblins, spectres, gnomes, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubi, extraterrestrials, ectoplasm, and spirits. Or the Fata Morganas 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. Accompanied by Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, FND, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, various types of seizures, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie and Fata Morganas.

Along with murdering Starmer in power. Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, abilities fading and reducing, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes. Plus, the arrival of a new hopelessness & despair never known before.
Just thought that I’d mention it. The Doctor might read this. Not that anything will change, but rather more a nudge to pinpoint guilt and beg for help.

The afternoon events reminiscences are sketchy. A long blank in the notes on the pad. Seizures, I assume, along with my confused state of mind. 
It’s better than no mind… or is it?

What few notes I found for the evening were largely unreadable, apart from a few odd words. They are scrawled yet bold. Was I angry at myself for something? Of no use, but I’ll copy those I could decipher, for you and me to imagine what I was writing: ‘_onrad off again.’ ‘needs correcting.’ ‘come it.’, and ‘_ r _ing’, ‘far t_ _ welcome’.

Late evening views.
Can you see the ghost or the rabbit?

Carers Rozma, Manpreet & Mizra today.
I’m almost sure it was.

So tired and confused. This came on earlier than usual. Boy, did I need, want sleep! Had to wait for the last Carer, so dared not sit down to fall asleep yet; I’d not hear the intercom when the Carer rang it to let them in. Once she came, did me, and left, I made some food. I had the last of the gorgeous but tooth-damaging Hunter sausages. And took extra care not to burn the potatoes.

Well, I did, but not a lot, as you can see.

A final photo.
I was surprised at how light it came out.
Have I used the wrong one again? Tsk!

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LIFE IN CELL 72 – It’ll have to do, HEHE!

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Inchy’s Ode: Saturday 7th June 2025

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I recall when life seemed concatenated, 
When Mother left no questions unanswered,
Except when she was in prison, then it’d be Dad,
When the grass was greener, the peace peacefuller,
Folks either deeply religious or had Zeusophobia,
Serious & farcical things were confabulated, 
Doors unlocked, yards were ungated…
Saucepan bottoms were copper-plated,
Boots-crappers & doorsteps were washed,
We got more than money in gratifications,
A pride when we got it right, no bonuses,
Oh, yes, there were many sybaritisms,
Some innocent, playful, many a teaser,
No need for drugs or booze to find pleasure,
Things changed so fast as I grew older,
No doubt the world’s grown absurder,
Time runs out for passion and adventure,
Stopped the death penalty, 1964, November,
Now, it’s daily murder after murder,
Which is not suitable for a worrier,
Scarier, now we have elected Starmer!
How can he claim to a PM that’s Labour?
Keir’s anti-pensioner, farmer and worker,
I reckon he’s also a misandristic anthropophobic,
The truth, reality? He’s totally denialistic,
Starmer the dangerous, spurious, demagogic,
The word to describe him is bisyllabic!

HINTS AND TIPS FOR WHIPPER-SNAPPERS,
ON POSSIBLE UPCOMING HEALTH RISKS,
Kicking off with a duodenal ulcer,
Optician, dentist, hearing aids, then a Carer,
Life gets to treat you uncaringly & unfairer,
Oh, you’ll get shot twice, I did, in 1986, September,
See how easy it is to distantly remember?
A new mechanical Aorta Valve for the ticker,
A Stroke that took me ages to recover…
Sent to a nursing home, not again, please, never!
Then, Cartilage agony & Peripheral Neuropathy,
Which will later be reassessed as being FND,
Went deaf, got Anne Gyna, then, this frit me…
Dementia, Psychoneurosis, Incogniscent Impairment,
Neurotransmitter went out of alignment,
My brain not reading the messages that they sent,
My nerve ends are unable to be acquiescent…
Visa Vera, to the instructions the brain sent!
That’s why I find myself on the floor, amazed,
I went to bedlam to be further appraised, 
Had many of these for the Dementia, I was aghast,
Diagnosed Lewy body dementia,
Then, Alzheimer’s diabetic Dementia
Then it changed to vascular Dementia,
Next, possibly Frontotemporal Dementia?
But the last one was not even Dementia…
PreMordid Cognitive Impairment, more tests, I fear,
You may suffer more; all anthropogenic,
You’ll need to keep medications, antileukemic,
You’ll need drugs, alcohol or mayhap tools alembic,
The world’s end will not necessarily be atomic,
Afford a spot in a shelter; it’ll be claustrophobic, 

Any faiths left will likely be Oligarch or Druidic,
Meeting your end, try to be rhapsodic…
I can get cannabinoids, CBD all synthetic,
Then you can die euphoric, cause you lived pilgarlic!

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Another short on detail job. Another day of being with it and out of it! Called twice on me, though. It’s time for a third visit, I hope.
Of course, my regular can-be-certain of well-outdid Horis.
I had several mini-seizures while Carer Mizra and then Carer Manpreet called. When talking and subjects change, it is impossible to get back to what I was going to say. Although Carer Mizra has an excellent memory and helped me regain some things that had slipped permanently into oblivion. Hehehe!

Classed as an NHS 6 on the scale.

First view from the kitchenette window.
A smidge bleak looking.

Off to the Porcelain Throne.
Which gave me plenty of time to tackle the crosswords. I didn’t do too well today. I found three errors from yesterday, but I was unable to find the correct answers to a single clue. Humph!
I went back to the kitchen to gather the necessary items for my ablutions… . Only to find I’d left the danged flipping hot water tap running yet again! A bit of naughty language was involved in the self-lambasting that followed.


I dangerously had to carry hot water from the kitchen sink on three trips so I could have a shave. No accidents, and only one cut shaving under my chin.
One more water trip and I got back to the wet room with a bucket of hot water, enough to use in the stand-up scrub-up, safely… !
I stubbed my toes against the porcelain pedestal. Smack on the ingrowing toenail toe! It hurt so much more than usual; I think this is not a good sign.

Somehow, as I was doing the medicating, a headache like the one from yesterday kicked in over the same left eye and up onto the top of the head. Then, the depression joined in, and I kept going into reality and out of it and carried on all day. I was a totally different idiot than the one who woke up two hours ago! Concentration crumbled.

I took a snap of the much-change view.


Went to change the clock calendar and make a start on the Friday blog. Carer Manpreet (I think) arrived. I got lost trying to keep up with the conversation, as it constantly shifted between subjects. Manpreet, a pleasant gal, issued the medications; I asked for Peptac and an extra 30g of Codeine. The headache had now been joined by Anne Gyna on one of her more virile attacks. This only confused me further.
I think I’m getting the timings out of sync again. Manpreet came well before I went on the computer. Sorry about that. I’ll carry on if you don’t mind. We shared farewells, and the gal departed. I must try to concentrate. I got the computer out of sleep mode, determined to get the Friday blog finished early. 

I didn’t, of course!

I started on the blog. Then, I realised I had no clean nightwear, so I had to wash one out for the morning.
So, I did

As I started once more to finish the blog, neighbour Jenny 🍪🌺💗 came in with some bikkies for me; bless her. Now, things got even worse. I had completely forgotten about the blog and started searching the web for Birds Eye Potato Bites. Ocado had some online. But I don’t need an order yet. However, when I invested, I found that they were cheaper than J Sainsbury, which does not sell them for delivery; they are only available in-store. However, Ocado was selling them for £10 for 5. £2.52 a single pack. I made an order for the week after next – I hope they are still on offer then.

Then, as I got back to starting the blog… The Catheter Contraption supplies were delivered. I put the box on the bed (and forgot about it; it is still there).

Then, as I got back to starting the blog… Carer Mizra (I think) arrived. I honestly can’t remember much until the evening; I went into a confused state of grade 1 mode, baffled, basically.

Can’t recall taking this. Rain again.

Remember the lady who does my hand laundry who didn’t turn up last week? She arrived. The good bit is she was not poorly, but on holiday and forgot to tell me about it. She took all the dirty nightshirts with her. I have two left, one of which will have to be washed each day until she brings the others back. I’m so glad she was not ill; bless her.

PM shot, I presume

Mizra and Rosma did the Carer calls today. (I think)

I found this on the SD card.
Possible Friday or Saturday meal.
No, this is Saturdays. I remember using the last of the potato bites now.
And burning my finger as I was getting them out of the oven and dropping the tray on the floor.
Ah, it’s coming back…

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I MUST CONVINCE THE DOCTOR I NEED HELP – Heh
e!
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Inchy Today: Monday 19th May 2025

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Starmer cops for it again
I might say that life is an enigma,
With complications over which to ponder,
I try to understand, to be an analyser,
Will I ever be a true comprehendor?
I’m not a very good fact grasper,
My desire to know grows achier,
I make notes in my adversaria…
Hard to read them with my glaucoma,
HMG gets more and more austerer,
Will life ever again get boshter?
Starmer, the great circumventor…
Fibber, fabulist and fabricator,
A decent con man and storyteller,
His promises get ever zigzaggier,
He may prattle, babble or yatter…
Of things that don’t really matter,
To the ordinary shat-on voter,
A Labour core value nonbeliever,
A degenerate, a political gangster,
Moral derelict, deceptive fact-dodger,
A political delinquent, a dispiriter,
He’s double-crossing, a double-dealer,
Fabricator, killer and demoraliser,
He’s corrupt, immoral, & diabolic!
Rosey cheeks from his dipsomania?.
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Depression Duncan and High-Mode-Horis shared the day again, visiting me so often, but neither had the upper hand. I lied. Duncan has just returned after a decent time with Horis, which gives Duncan the upper hand. I just can’t concentrate. At least they took a while, as they did yesterday, before toying with my mind. So I got a few photos and graphicalisations done to go on before I turned into a… never mind. 
The mistakes made today outnumbered yesterday, maybe two to one. But one of the Accifaupa’s had a distinct bit of humour attached to it. It’s about the only spot of fun all day. I was on a downer for the three Carer calls. But they went well, particularly on the first call. Which was well after the humourous incident of the day. I’m delaying telling you so I can make myself look a tad not so daft.
I’ll start as usual by waking up and somehow freeing myself, oh, so reluctantly, from the bed’s clutches. 

I forced myself to move my legs to get off of the bed.
And were not pleased with being moved. They both gave way together when I got my weight on the floor! I’m so glad they did it when they did, with me having the pleasure of the bed to fall on. It was almost a pleasure. Haha!
While emptying the catheter night pouch, I decided to get a shower, shave, and medicate where I could reach. I checked the kitchen in case I’d left something on or running and took a scarce photograph. In my wandering mind, only a precious few made it to the blog. I think I took several view photos later from different angles, only to find I’d left the card in the computer when I loaded this one.
It took ages for the sun to break through, well into the afternoon.
The tail end of this tale of woe contains the humorous Accifauxpas. I think you’ll laugh at it!

The first job before getting things ready for the task at hand was to remove the catheter muslin bag. I joke not; it took me half an hour, a lot of pain, loss of blood from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the use of some, erm… shall I say, colourful cursing and swearing to get it off undamaged. I’ll ask the Carer later to put it back on for me.
As needed, I was off to the wet room with towels, etc. Plans went askew, and I got seated on the Porcelain Throne in reply to a burst of wind escaping from my rear end. I was actually rushing, thinking things may be starting and coming of their own volition again. But No!
This warped, mangled body, mind, and innards were fooled again. The anticipated near-liquid flushing did not happen. Trotsky Terence wasn’t in the running. 
Ruled the roost. 
After several failed, painful efforts to encourage the movement, I sat back with the crossword book and had a go at it. I’d not been doing well over the last few days on that puzzle, yet I got about ten clues answered!
Conrad releases his hold, and a little wind and a pong permeated out, followed by three massive torpedoes! One after the other. Glad they escaped!
I cleaned my teeth and might have gone into a seizure. I remember the toothbrush hitting something and bouncing down; I heard it fall, and then that was it for a few minutes. I came back and found that I was sitting on the WC again. I felt confused, but there was no pain, accifauxpas, or injuries. Great!

I got the shaving sorted out with almost ease this morning. No droppages, and just one tiny little nick. 
Time to get into the shower.
Oh, I did enjoy it. Cartilages Carole and Chloe were good to me; even Anne Gyna left me alone. (The funny bit is coming soon.)
I did have a bit of a wobble as I got the shower curtain closed. So I plopped my bottom on the shower chair, but the water was on hot and full power, and as the fluid fell on me, I was liberal with the carbolic soap wherever I could reach while sitting down. I left the water showering over me and really enjoyed it!
As usual, I reached for the grab bar from the chair to get up. The Cartilaged gals were again not pleased with being used, letting me know in their typical fashion, pain and threatening to give way. I got both hands on the grab bar just in case and hauled myself up onto my feet. That’s when it dawned on me… there’s only one way to tell you this… I felt something sharp sticking in my bum! Such a surprise that I forgot all about the Cartilage risks and groped to feel what the heck it was… do you want to guess? I’ll wait a
bit if so…
It was my toothbrush!

I assume the noise I heard earlier was the toothbrush landing on the shower chair. I had to laugh!
I got on with the medicationings.
It took a while, but then, as I was told to, I dried off the catheter day bag with kitchen towels.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He did a full body check and barrier creamed my ankles and torso. Then, he issued the medications and moved on to getting my diabetic socks on. Bless him!

I’m unsure when, why or how, but I cleaned the fridge a bit. Well, I found this photo on Kodak Tim’s SD card.
Now, I recall this one.
In the red microwave bowl in the fridge, I made a mixture of Vegetable soup, pickled mushrooms, water chestnuts, garden peas, and some potatoes. I stored it for later use. 
Oh, and Korean BBQ sauce with peppers, etc.

Really out of it now, for a long time.
I had recovered a smidge and was back on the blog when Carer Manpreet arrived. I had not seen her before, but that might be wrong. She’s a nice gal.

This snap was on the SD card. I know when I took it, it would have been in the afternoon while I was out of it. I think.

I added some things to tomorrow’s Iceland order. They emailed me to let me know.

I heated the food and got Milk Roll sliced bread that Jenny had given me. Bless her cotton socks.
And tucked in while watching Heartbeat on channel ITV3. Lovely!
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Another messy day.
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Cheerioski!
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