Carer Mizra

Inchie: Tues 18 Nov 25

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I dream of good health,
And a bit of wealth,
I don’t want a gold delf,
But my mind’s full of unwanted cultch,
In deciding anything, I’m a bit of a drench…
My dreams often produce their own stench,
I’ve lived in a lonely shell, wittwontenish,
With only myself to loathe and fratch,
Confidence & contentment I couldn’t catch,
I got no benefits, praise or backseesh,
No pets allowed, no cat, no dog, no fitch,
Stuck indoors, am I bothered? Very much,
My problems are many, and not picayunish.
No more moaning, I’m sick of doing it,
I’d like to travel and seek out the Sasquatch…
Go to the coast, and sit on the beach,
I’m going to stop being so poltroonish…
Try to stop acting paganish,
One more thing I would rather wish,
To see Starmer impeached!
I’ve lost the Ode’s plot again. Sheesh!
Let’s all pray for world peace.
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Up at 05:25hrs. Night pouch removed, and into the kitchen to check taps, cooker, fridge doors, etc.
Pleased with the photo I took this morning. It was an incredible blue sky up there this morning. I could hear emergency services sirens.
Of to the for an evacuation. Things started to move, then froze solid! A tiny section of the torpedo that had begun to escape practically had to be chipped away. Hahaha! Rock solid! I’ll ask for a Senna when the Carer calls later on.

Back to the kitchenette, and got the kaghoule hand-washed in the sink. It was a wick job, cause this one is made with fragile, thin material, cotton, I think. It’s comfy, but in winter it’s a bit cold to wear without a dressing gown. I hung it up to dry on the wet-room shower rail. Then I got a heavier black one with a kangaroo pocket to use after the scrub-wash, brush-up, shave & medicating were completed. Which went well!

No cuts, shaving. The teeth bled, of course, as did the gums. No droppages… although for the rest of the day, I was dropping so many things, I swore at myself.
The medications I could reach to use, apart from the fingal lesion cream, went well and were not painful at all. The lesion always hurts. The nasal & eyes were sprayed, then the ears were done last.
Got perfumed and dressed. All but had a tumble getting the protection pants on, but didn’t go over. Then off to the main junk room and into the bacony to take a couple of photographs. The first one of the dead end beyond the car park. The puddle of soil
had well-filled the end parking zone again. As I turned to get back into the flat, I twisted , but the pain was far less than it had been on previous occasions. Was this going to be a better day? Will Batman & Robin… Hehe!

I carried out the first BP checks and recorded them on the whiteboard to go on the computer later. Then made a brew of Typhoo extra-strong tea and had a couple of bikkies dunked and eaten. When I say a couple… Hehehe!

I got to the door, and nobody was there. As I was closing the door, I espied a small parcel on the floor outside. It was some ready-filled Enoxaparin hypodermics. I’m glad they sent them, just in case.

I got on the computer, and Carer Maapreet arrived. No doorbell pushed. Didn’t know she was in the flat until she came into the room. I greeted her. After clocking in on her mobile, she set out to get the medications readied. I took them, and she checked the BP figures on the NHS site. I’d made one error. Tsk! Then Manpreet got some Phorpain, well, it’s another name now, but the same thing, just not strong enough, only 10%, not the usual 20%… which also had gone down from 30%. 
It’s called Ibugel Forte, now. Massaged my lower back with it. Then both knees, Next, as she did a full body check, got barrier cream under the arms, man breasts and the right wrist. Bless her.

When Manpreet left, I went to try the Procelain Throne again.
What a session, I struggled to get it going, one giant torpedo finally agonisingly, painfully plopped out… to be followed by a great long-lasting torrent of watery mush!

I started on what was going to be an hour-long session of updating the missing word lists. Huh!
Three hours later, Carer Mirza arrived. Nice to see him. A quick visit. Painkillers and Peptac given. 

I went back to the computer to finish off the section I was on. I got carried away again and started the next one. By then, Carer Inhran was coming in.

I hastily got as much as I could on this blog. But it will be morning by the time it’s done.
Hang on, I was supposed to be cutting it down! I’ll get some spuds in the oven, and do the rest in the morning. I am a clot!

I opened the video of the seizure to show a Carer and explain the importance of not shouting or touching me. This is what happened when taking the snaps of it on the computer. (Laugh, I did!)
First effort…
The computer went into sleep mode just as I was pressing the Kodak Tim-2 button.
I tried again…
I forgot to take the flash off! Hehe!
Gave myself a solid halo.
Gorrit!

Later, I went to take a snap of the sunset. But by the time I’d found Kodad Tim-2, I was too late and missed it. Grumph!

I zoomed in to catch the last of the sun as it came around the globe.
The clouds seemed to be thickening.

Then even closer. This snap reminded me of something, but I’m blown if I can remember what it was now. Huh

Carer Ejaz is only doing the late-night call now, apart from the 2-hour Wednesday call. I do miss his help so much.
Polish sausage and potatoes, cubed and roasted, with Leicester cheese dolloped on top of them. Burnt to make the cheese crackly. One of my better cooking efforts. However, all was not good after eating this feast. I went to wash the pots and found I’d left the hot tap running; it had run cold. So I boiled some water in the kettle a few times, and left the pots and dishes to soak overnight, to be done in the morning.
I dropped the walking stick, stupidly bent down to retrieve it, and caught a wallop on the edge of the cabinet. And he had been feeling so much better and easier these last two days. Joined in immediately after the , and is still with me now, Wednesday morning 09:20hrs! 
I returned to the computer to shut it down, and as I got seated, an urgent, panicky desire to use the Porcelain Throne arose; I got up and nearly fell down again, thanks to , and hobbled hastily to the wet room. In my haste to get to the porcelain in time, again, I banged poor , this time against the door frame as I was taking off the dressing gown. Multitasking should be taken off of my agenda. On the plus side, I got down on the plastic seat in time, but only just.  
was gooey, soft, yet running? Boy, I’m going through the toilet rolls and fresh air sprays! I returned to turn off the computer… again, and did so.

But, with playing me up, getting into the old hospital bed proved too painful. So, I returned to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner. 
I got the legs up on a chair, and was soon in the land of Nod! Accompanied, unfortunately, by .

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TTFNski!
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Inchie Today: Sunday 16th November 2025

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WELL, MAYBE NOT...
A bruise on my hand kept changing colour…
Pink, red, brown, and then into zaffre,
There was little pain; I did not suffer,
Until I gave myself another,
On the same blooming finger!

I love pigeons, when they bill & coo,
I believe I once saw a bugaboo,
I used to handwrite with a decorative curlicue, 
My bank balance is barely worth a flamfew.
My brain today is holding a hullabaloo.

In my younger days, I was an ardent angler,
Despite being bitten one day by a zander,
And slipping and falling into the water,
Now, I suffer from having verbomania,
I fear being buried… of a vivisepulture,
I hoped to see the creatures in Toowoomba,
But I remain a confirmed zoolater…

I realise in the past I’ve been negligent,
Well, I was not known as intelligent,
My mistakes & errors had no intent,
I spent many hours of regret,
Now I’m old; so many I forget!
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0420hrs: I woke up coughing, and my eyes were running… and struggling to contain the rear-end evacuation that was plainly on its escape route of its own accord.

I got the gown undone en route to the wet room and got entangled with the extra-long nocturnal catheter tubing. But, I got to the Throne in time, just!
Another messy whan-bab evacuation that was soggy and sticky. Heck of a job cleaning things up. I thought about doing ablution there and then while I was in the wet room, but decided to give it a while longer until the rotten-egg-like smell, the aroma left by the foul-smelling excrement, had cleared.
I went onto the balcony to see what the end of the car park was like. I think they must be parking to block access like this on purpose? Not that it matters to me. The white car is now parked halfway across the chevrons, with support from a blue van. I imagine they had a valid reason for this fire engine and ambulance blocking tactics. I think I could see a pool of water near the park’s entrance and exit. Maybe the tarmac has become unsafe.

Then, as the rain cleared, I could see that the uphill old gravel path had now been completely tarmacked. I’d love to walk up the hill and come down through the tree copse. But…
It doesn’t seem that long since I was walking that route every day and just loved doing it. Whatever the weather was like. No more!

I returned to the wetroom and started the ablutions. They were going much better than they did yesterday. 
The intercom sounded; it was Carer Nisra. Blimey, how time passed. Then, since I only had my PPs on when she arrived, she spotted that my man-breast would benefit from some barrier creaming, my right knee and lower back were given the Photpain Gel treatment, and my right lower keg had its strappings and undersocks taken off, ankle and leg were foamed, socks and straps put back on. Then Nirma sorted and issued the prescription medications to me. And checked the Health Check return figures on Excel for me. I always get a warm glow when Nimra calls. But then some bad news was revealed: she said she is not coming again; she has new clients to see each morning. Well, well, and that was a bit of a blow to my morale. I thanked her for her help & understanding, and bade her farewell. She took the waste bags with her. Wishing her luck, I gave her a mini-hug too. I hope that Ejaz will not be moved. Wonder who will do the morning call. This afternoon, Ejaz didn’t know about the changes. So he might not be doing it. I hope it might be Carer Carer Carer Nimra. 
I’d be properly lost if he went.
Went to get the kettle on and took this snap of the front and Chestnut Way car parking in the bays.
I was feeling a little down, but not depressed, just sad, I suppose.
Laid out before me at the kitchen window were hundreds of houses, homes, bungalows: being in my sad mode, I thought of what they were doing. There will be burglars, families at war and in love, students, Bulgarians, Irish, Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Nigerians, Chinese, Serbians, Welsh, Scots, Poles, Ukrainians, Jews, Hungarians, Jamaicans, Myanmar, Bangladeshi, Palestinians, Libyans, etc, etc out there. Those in need, in pain, missing home, we all have one thing in common. 

No idea how long it went on, cause I had no signs that I was drifting off. But it was 17:00hrs when I came back into a world of confusion, dizziness and some loss of balance. And, unusually, I felt so tired, weary, and worn out, which had never lasted more than a few minutes after an episode. But it was enough for me to close the computer and get into bed. I was well in the land of nod, and the Carer arrived and rang the intercom. Ejaz issued the medications, tablets, & Peptac. He’ll rub some Phorpain in for me on his last speed visit. 

Nosh Preparation – Consumption & Stomach Ache! Duodenal Donald did activate!
Gobble, slurp, belch!

TTFN

Inchie Today: Thursday 30th October 2025

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

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

Just a drop of urine overnight?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Almost Typical Day, Humph!


MAY FORTUNE FAVOUR YOU!

Inchie: Sat 30 Aug: Yet another lousy day! Confusion Konrad, Depression Darius, Sandra Seizures, but little High-Mood-Horis!

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Where do I leave my words of perspicuity?
I’ll try to explain to you clearly,
Mayhap inside a time capsule,
Where do we bury it? In a school,
Perhaps a police station or hospital?
All three will be run by the Oligarchy,
Used by backhanergivers & the aristocracy,
If Herr Starmer gets his way,
What goes in our time capsule?
The lies of Herr Starmer, the fool?
His standards? Self-motivated & dual…
Kiers lies, barriserial & political?
I, like millions, look forward to his burial!
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What a day! The agony started as soon as I woke up. I was in fact enjoying the peace of being in a seizure, unaware of that, of course, it seems the only way to get any sleep and stay in it nowadays, but the recovering after effects were pretty harmful, as per usual. The door chime rang, stirring me cruelly back to reality. But my confusion and balance were all over the place. Getting out of bed took that long; the chime stopped. I continued the battle to get on my feet and carried the nocturnal bag with me to save time, to reach the panel when they called back, and to unlock the door.
In the rush and confusion, I got the catheter bag caught on the corner shelf as I exited the room… Knocking off and breaking a small ornament I kept in memory of my wonderful Aunty Kath. Amidst all the panic, Depression Darius joined me, with Frustration Frank and a rare visitor, Fearful Fred. I was aware that the confusion and panic were coming from the seizure recovery, but that didn’t help.
When I unlocked the door,  and, daft as it sounds, I had no idea what day or time it was, which panicked me further. I’d had no rest & recovery time, do you see? I’ve no idea what happened, just a few odd bits, of which I’m not certain anyway.
When Carer Nimra came in, I was back sitting on the bed with my head in my hands. (The head hadn’t fallen off, Hehe!) No recollection of much of what took place. Lots did, cause there was a full page of scribbled notes about it. Undecipherable, so I must have written them while still recovering after Carer Nimra had departed. The last bit I could read… I went into another seizure as Nimra left. I recall her telling me to sit down, I’m going now… There was nothing the gal could do anyway. Bless her. I got back on the bed. I think it was minutes later, I came back to reality, and all the after-effect symptoms had, as expected, returned. I was not going to risk getting up too quickly or soon after being forced to; that was not a pleasant experience.

I rose carefully about 15 minutes later. Grabbed Willie the Wooden Walking Stick. Off to the kitchen to steep a Detox bag in water. I visited the Porcelain Throne. Feeling more comfortable and with it as time passed. A 100% turnaround in the evacuation. Hard work, painful and bloody session. Yet a nice change from the last eight sloppy, wet, spattery Trotsky Terence cleaning up-after trips.

Later, I found this shot of the trees & bushes on the front of the flat’s walkway and carpark. I can’t recall when, or even if, I took it.

There were numerous issues with CorelDraw and the SD reader; in fact, it completely crashed. Boy, was I struggling with fitting the new one. Yes, I was!
I got the new SD reader out of its box. The SD cards now have to be inserted upright, which my Cramp-ridden, arthritic, and Peripheral neuropathy-affected fingers were reluctant to let me do. The more I use it, the easier it might get. It features several additional benefits, including a turn-on/off button for each socket. Which will be no use to me if I can’t find out how to replug it in the back of the computer.  
I was leaning forward to plug in the one… and PN’s dying neurotransmitters, shot the wire from my grip… They often perform similar actions, such as preventing me from gripping something or not allowing me to release something. I’ve broken countless mugs and plates. You may have noticed I no longer use plates, only paper ones or metal ones. This can be a problem when removing a hot dish from the microwave or oven, and I’m unable to release the hot dish or tray. You may have noticed the number of burns I collect. Haha! 
I was nearing the point of accepting that forgetting the socket for us and losing the plug wire would cause a terminal issue here. Carer Nimra arrived at just the right moment. At my point of despair…
She knew which socket to use and inserted it for me.
WALLAH! And I then had a new SD reader that worked
YeeHaa! No, double, even treble YeeHaa! 
Bless her cotton socks!
But, more good news! I  know, you are not used to getting good news from Inchie Today.
I put the mousse and keyboard senders in the last two plugs, and the SD reader in the next one. There are on/off buttons for each connection! I then grilled Nimra, asking what had taken place this morning, saying I couldn’t recall. She calmly told me I was all over the place verbally and physically. But don’t worry, you coped well with it all. I realised she’d not put the diabetic socks on, but had given me the morning’s prescription medications. So I spent the day sockless, Herhehe! Undoubtedly, this saved the day for me and was what spurred a short, but pleasantly acceptable visit from ! Then… No chance to start yesterday’s blog update yet. Because the frustratingly unreliable CorelDraw started playing up, and after sorting out the failure to save the page was due to a lack of memory, I pondered what I could do about it.

Going into a seizure, the length of reading War & Peace, compared to the usual 2 to 15 minutes, did me no good at all. I cannot judge how long it lasted, but it must have been a long one, because the after-effects and recovery time are always easier after a lengthy seizure. Also, the mug of Glengettie tea that I’d made was now stone cold! And, getting the brain to concentrate was a lot easier than after one or a series of .
I summoned as much intellectualisation as Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Mavis could muster, to try and find a solution to my problem with CorelDraw. Graphic artists worldwide have to do this regularly, I’m sure. So, having pondered, the best I could come up with was to use CCleaner and hope it creates enough space in the process. So, I did.
I had closed Excel and Word, then Google, and after saving the work, I ran CCleaner. It allowed me to keep CorelDraw open. (Sadists! Haha!) CCleaner claimed it had removed 2500 KB from the hard drive and 967 KB from the drive. This looks good, I thought.
Back to CorelDraw to try to save the work again. I opened Google, was going to go back to CorelDraw…

That went well… I waited, and waited for the windows to update. Not sure if I fell asleep or not. What day is it? What was I doing?
I had confidence once back on CorelDraw that CCleaner must have removed enough to save the artwork. I tried – it didn’t work. I screamed, wailed, spat & cried. My language was a bit crude.
I lost all the photographs when CorelDraw froze again! I did cry this time!

Then, yet another cock-up was made! I seem to be becoming an expert on these.
Amazon sent me an email stating that the £149 wheelchair, which had received adverse reports, had been cancelled. I promptly placed an order for one of the £184 models with handbrakes on the handles for the Carer or pusher, but with self-propelling wheels. I was thrilled that I might be able to get out and about on my own.
I realised that I had not checked the comments on this model, so I did. They were a replica of the comments on the £149 model???
But it had been a terrible day for me, and I was getting more and more tired and sleepy now, after suffering enough problems, Whoopsiedangleplops and frustrations to last me over the last few days for the rest of my life. Well, maybe. I’m still far behind with blogging than I’ve ever been. I frustratedly gave up on the computer and got my overdue Ablutions done.
The seat marks under my arm had worsened significantly overnight. I’ll ask the Carer to use the barrier cream and remind them to remove all traces of the old cream, then clean the area with baby wipes. This is only if I remember to ask whoever comes. As ‘Forgetters go!’, I think I deserve an award for my sheer dogged persistence, regularity, & stupidity.
I almost had myself over when I washed my feet in disinfectant in the bowl while shaving, getting only one cut! It did bleed a bit, mind you.
I foolishly decided to get a short-sleeved black kagoule hand-washed and rinsed, then hung it up in the wet room to dry on the shower curtain rail. As I turned to leave the room… I shoulder-charged the door edge. Which set off on one of her vicious attempts to dislodge the ball from the socket! Not that this actually surprised or upset me, it was just another cog, pain and annoyance on my way to total insanity. I’m not ready for considering suicide yet, cause I still have dreams of someone assassinating Starmer; I’d hate to miss that, and it would give a little lift, and laugh. I’ve paid for my funeral. I told the Carer where the details are. Not that I’m in any rush. Oh no, but if things carry on as they are… well!

I’m assuming that I had a seizure. I came back and was mopping the kitchen floor with the speed mop. The storage trolley was out of position, I’d moved food from a cupboard onto the floor near the radiator, and opened both windows. I’d been busy during my ictus? No one has explained to me how this can be so. Impossible to happen, surely?
Now this had happened before. If I recall rightly, it was the same as last time. The recovery and confusion were far less than having had an ‘ordinary’ seizure when all I apparently did was say, according to the Carers who were with me at the time: Sometimes with open eyes, others with them closed, but always with jerks, shaking and a mumbling of incoherent short words. Joeonce wrote down what I was babbling about in short outbursts; Urghum, Worramum, ehereherehu and No, no. With different expressions for each so-called word?
But how can I do things like moving things, and mop a floor? Mind you, I made a mess of that and had to clean it again this time.

And what happened to my feeling of being so drained?
Why should I do it at this time of night, let alone during a seizure? How? Why? Thankfully, these don’t occur very often… Ah! Perhaps there is a connection to my feeling of being so tired? Nae!

I keep getting myself off track tonight. But the need of food arose. I looked in the fridge to see what was available for dining on. The photo above reveals two outdated food items that I had to discard. The pastie on the right was use-by 19th Aug. Whatever it was inside that had gone mouldy and showing through the pastry and bag was mysterious enough. But then, why did I buy them in the first place? My tiredness returned.

I decided, after seeing what was not available to eat, to opt for frozen chip shop chips, tomatoes, and two defrosted cheesy-topped no-butter buttered bread rolls, along with some cheap £1-a-packet ham slices, which were well within their use-by date, 8th September. Worryingly, the highest ingredient listed was water.
However, they were a success (Not the meat, but the tomatoes, bread and chips were lovely).

There’s a chance of a miracle having taken place here. I cannot remember seeing the moon while I was in bed. Sometimes I see the hue coming through the tatty, thin curtains. I’ve been known to scramble out of bed to take a shot of it. I’m sure I didn’t tonight… well, as sure of anything I can ever be sure of. But that’s not saying much, is it? This snap was so beautiful, I’d have thought I’d remember taking it.
It’s Sunday evening as I write this. I’m now over two blogs behind. I think. I’m waffling on, and still have Sundays to start, and 30 templates to make up.
I’ll do a quickie for Sunday. Just the top graphics, CorelDraw permitting.
An Ode, hopefully.
And a photo or two…
I should get it done by Christmasish. Haha!.

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
MISSING HORIS!

🤎 CHEERY-BYE FOLKS 🤎

Inchie: Friday 29th August 2025

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Random things that can yet, or did, make me happy…
From memory, diaries, and some even theoretically,
At 14, a Lady of forty took my cherry,
Which I loved, but why? It confused me,
Which life has done, ever since, diurnally,
Later, developing a natural negativity,
Cynicism, defeatism, and despondency,
This helped me cope with life’s adversity,
At birth, Mother said, ‘Throw it away’,
Life would have been a little shorter…
but have gone less problematically,
Am I losing the plot of the faux-poetry?
No, it’s just my affected memory…
In old age, my teeth are rotting away…
Diabetes Don, Anne Gyna, Cartalige Chloe,
Duodenal Donald, Toothache Tiffany,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment Peggy,
Myoclonic-Seizures-Sid, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Inchy’s Fungal Lesion, & Lymphorrhea Leslie,
Méniere’s disease, Episodic-Ataxia-Ellie,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Eric’s Eczema,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, mentally,
Earache Eric, Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Herings aids, both needing a battery,
Ingrowing toenails; Unguis Incarnate Nelly,
Mechanic Ticker Trevor and Reflux Valve Rene,
Newly-diagnosed Hydrocephalus-Harry,
They don’t overbother me, individually,
For they are all a part of me, intrinsically…
Even when affecting me painfully or cripplingly,
Coping with a warped brain & disabled body,
Getting through each day makes me happy,
Another secret, to help you feel less crappy,
Concentrate on hexing Starmer (the Iffy),
His soundbites on isonomy prove his inanity,
He rules crappily, but has got inexpugnability,
Taking backhaners from the Oligarchy,
No one can deny his lies & criminality,
I pray for a political solution, philosophically,
We can do nothing legally curatively,
I’m only thinking this whimsically…
I’m hoping he dies painfully…
very slowly and in utter agony,
Tomorrow perhaps? Hopefully,
That’d make me overjoyedly happy!

TODAY’S COCK-UPS

I tell you now of my discontent,
Why is my life so abhorrent? 
Whoopsiedangleplops Accifauxpa torrent,
Unsolvable Problems & ailments,
The computer, now an inconvenience!
No help from anywhere,
Its memory is now bare,
Tonight, CorelDraw died,
My depression cannot be denied,
I managed to save some graphics & photos,
Got old ones, I’ll have to use those,
Struggling with this Odes prose,
Made an order by mistake on Amazon.
Tried to cancel it, reply waited on,
Already got my lowest ever bank balance,
Find a Solution? I haven’t had a chance!
Will it let me update this blog? I’m not yet sure,
All my problems, not one cure!
I feared being forced into an old folks’ home,
At this moment, I realise that I’d not be alone,
Financially, physically, and mentally sick!
In the morning, I woke up in a seizure,
And then came the morning Carer,
Of which there is little I can remember,
It may be the end of my blogging,
I don’t know yet if this blog will be saved,
But after all my work in creating…
If not, it’s going to be so gauling,
I’m hoping that CorelDraw will be loading,
Not confident, just hoping,
The wheelchair ordered is self-propelling,
The standard one, I got it four weeks ago,
But no Carer has taken out, though,
When I get paid for the self-propeller,
And get it inspected by a Carer,
I can get out and feel freer,
But what I do now fear,
By the time it’s checked & inspected,
I might be too old to use it, well dated!
Still no appointment made for the Audio Clinic,
No delivery of the Diabetic osenitic,
I’m feeling so depressed and sick!
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Up 05:55hrs. Urine was a 5 on the Richter scale. 

Views taken from the balcony
End car park.
Towards Mansfield Road
Towards the park
Left, front car park & flat balconies

Had a bit of a mini seizure that lasted seconds, I thought. That’s a guesstimate. After the seizure, a little out of it, I made a mug of Detox tea and tended to my ablutions. Then shelled some garden peas to nibble cold and add to the planned stew tonight.

To the intercom to let in Carer Ejaz. Who did a fair job for me this morning? Diabetic socks were put on.  
Medications were given.

I started to do the blog.
I noticed I’d not changed the date on the clock.
Got a mug of proper tea, and the peas to nibble. Seeing that I had still not changed the date on the clock. So, I did!

Started to update yesterday’s blog.
I got into it and felt the catheter bag drop; the urine pouch was full to the brim, and the weight of the bag tugged the tube in little Inchy. I believe I may just have used some naughty language.
Just look at the amount of urine that came out. The bag is a 200ml one, but the jug indicates it is 400ml. No wonder it felt down.

I got a call to say that an ambulance was on its way to see me. No idea why? 

Sister Jane rang me. It was hard work without the hearing aids. I’d been trying to book an appointment for 4 weeks with the Carers. But no joy. I moaned a little about things to her. And she moaned back about her problems. Hehehe! And told me off, of course.

The intercom chimed. The chap came in with an electric scooter. I thought at first it was a Red Cross man bribing it for me – what a clot! It was a Carer, Ahbul. I showed him the wheelchair on the balcony and moaned that no Carer had taken me out on it yet; in fact, it hadn’t been fully erected and checked for safety yet. The lad departed, and I’d been talking (I talk a lot nowadays, mainly to myself and my alter ego, Inchie) about the wheelchair. I went on the balcony and checked out the disabled machines.
The four-whelled walker.
The new wheelchair, unused to date. Fitted a cushion on it. Searched around with the aid of the impractical, worthless manual, which had such tiny printing that it was really of no value.
At least the cushion fitted. I found where the passenger brakes were and tried them. Crude tinny metal, but they worked.
Then had an in-depth, almost pointless perusal of the mwinenace/instruction manual. I think it might have been for the wrong model. As you can see in the photo I took, this is for a self-propelled model with large wheels.
This model has tiny wheels.
However, the thought of having a self-propelled one and the advantage of not needing an expensive Carer to push me means I perhaps could get to the Social Room in the other block of flats, Winwood Court, and have a chat with others. Maybe, perhaps, possibly. Or not. There’s bound ot be a difficulty in getting one on the NHS, but I felt one would benefit me.
So, I went to the Amazon site to investigate.
The prices ranged from £69 for a child. Up to £3,999 for a Sports Model. The ones that caught my eye were those with pad-cusions for the back of the legs, which was the first criterion I adopted. Many of them had a strap across the front of the frame. These pads claim to be better for people with diabetes. So, I went through all 44 pages of what I searched for: self-propelled wheelchairs with brakes at the front and back. (Leg pads in brackets)
Five at £184, one at £148. The £184 ones all looked the same model. The £148 did not have handbrakes for the pusher. This was the only difference that I could find. Then, I checked the comments about the £148. Not good. 2.5 rating overall. I was going to check the comments for the £184 one, but Carer Nizra arrived and I forgot all about checking. 

Then the mobile rang. The £35-a-bash toenail cutter was on its way up to me. 

When I got back on the computer, I found that I’d ordered the £148 wheelchair. Nobody told me… except Amazon, in an email. I went to Amazon to cancel the order. The message said, ‘We will try to cancel it, let you know, and advise you.

The gal got my nails cut, and we managed a little chat and a laugh.
Look at the time already!
A fantastic site, no, sight!

Off to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence led the session, but not as dominantly this time.

When I got back in the front room, I was pretty ashamed of the mess in there.

I made up the meal for later on, one of my off-the-cuff stews, or whatever they should be called. Masses of garden peas, other vegetables, chopped some water chestnuts into it, and added Bovril. I had some bread left over that wasn’t too hard for dipping.

Turned off the computer and had only put on today’s cartoon. So far behind again.

CALAMIY, FEAR, MORE DEPRESSION DARIUS!
I couldn’t save the work I’d done in CorelDraw.
Not enough memory available!
I went to make a brew to help me think through my options available to rescue things.

Despite my morseness, I still took these snaps of the view from the kitchen window. Not even knowing if I can use them or not. Proof that I need help!
As if I didn’t know beforehand already!

The meal came out well.

I went to wash the pots, and yet again, possibly wasted my time taking this last snap.
Still, it’s worth it, a bit of nature.

Another day of Depression & Frustration,
Seizures, errors just never lessen,
This should teach me a lesson…
To get mental rest, do I need absolution?
Mistakes, lost words, or an anachronism…
Forgetfulness, confusion, an aphorism,
It’s months since my last cachinnation,
Life once livable is now a damnation,
Today I felt as if I was forsaken…
Of course, I could have been mistaken,
No help, hope, or satisfaction…
High Mood Horis was missing in action,
So many things, to curse or gurn in reaction,
I’m depressed, more than a fraction…
I find life & living, all a guesstimation!

#= # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #
I REALLY HOPE I’LL BE BACK!
#= # = # = # = # = # = # = # = #

Sorry, I’ve had so little time to get on the WP Reader & Comments. It’s been even busier than usual lately. And I’ve not started writing Saturday’s blog yet.

Inchie Today: Monday 25th August 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had some problems with CorelDraw again.

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

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

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

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

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

Inchie Today: Sunday 24th August 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Who was it that said, hopes immortal?
A mortal? A Saint or someone asteroidal?
Starmer? Read 1 Timothy 6:16 in the bible?
As we’re all mortal, it sounds antagonistical,
But things in the world are now so unalterable,
We may yet invent a time machine, or portal,
One that can travel forward & be reversible?
Oligarchs would sell it to the coercible,
Do you think the possibility is apprehensible?
Anyone using one must be cautious and sensible…
Changing the past – the future changes, it’s inevitable
Does it work going forward? Yes, in things medicable,
Diseases: no longer repairable or rectifiable,
But will the end of the world be avoidable?
Will Starmer becoming PM be preventable?
If so, UK citizens will find that astronomical!
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MORNING THOUGHTS IN ODE
After last night’s sleeping faux pas & farces,
I need a dentist, neurologist or Adventist?
More Carers for longer, whatever this costs.
I’ll do without food, electricity, or sex,
Each day I wonder what calamity will come next,
Did I sin in a past life? Or have I been hexed?
Mental parasites, my cerebrum they infest,
Yet still I feel that I’ve been blessed…
Nurse Wilhemena came with her massive chest!
o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o – o

I didn’t get out of bed this morning; I did that last night. Stubbed my toe, got to the Porcelain Throne too late, again.  
All in all, as it happened, weighing it all up, the day was well up there at the very close to the top of the league of Whoopsiedangleplops. But the night outshone, and shamed Saturday day. I can’t think of anything that went right. Something must have…

At least I managed to get the Ablutionalisationing and Medicationing done before the Carer arrived. That was because he was a little late, given it was Sunday and there were so few buses running. I realised there was little time to get a good job done, so I skipped washing my feet. And in my haste, I forgot to clean my teeth; I did them later when I realised. The shaving produced several minuscule nicks around the back of the neck and a corker on my cheek. I’d better add that it was the cheek on my face. Just to avoid any confusion. Hehehe!

Later, a few minutes later, Carer Ejaz arrived. Graded the pouch as a 4 on the NHS scale. Issued the medications and antisepticated the rough skin on my lymph nodes on my legs. Got the diabetic socks on. Thanked him & wished him well, and off he shot. Whooosh! No problem with that, he had to dash to catch a rare Sunday bus, bless him.

I paid Porcelain Throne another visit. Still controlled my Trotsky Terence, but I didn’t get caught out this time.

I made a mug of Detox tea. The expensive one that uses boiling water to steep it in. Fifteen minutes later, I removed the bag, and as it says on the bag, “Do not gulp this tea, sip it.”  So, I did.

I then got yesterday’s Khagoule hand-washed in the kitchen sink. Midway through the rinsing of the shirt, I knew that a seizure was coming on; I felt it, but I cannot say precisely how, but I was aware of it on its way. I got into the front room before it came and got seated. I wasn’t aware of entering a never-never land, but that’s precisely what happened as soon as I returned and became semi-aware that reality was back. Dizziness and lack of balance kept me sitting down for a few minutes, and I attempted to have a poddle around. Greattt! Not too bad at all. Usually, the short seizure after effects are more substantial than the long ones, but this one was a good recovery. I went into the kitchen, cause I remembered what I was doing, and the water in the bowl was stone cold. Then, it dawned on me that I must have been out of it for a long time, without realising it.
I got the khagoul rung out and hung it up on the shower rail in the wet room.

I got a text message from Amazon. I couldn’t press the ‘Press to Reply or talk’ button on the screen because my phone didn’t have internet. I thought maybe they had arrived with the Diabetic socks and left them in the foyer. I went down to investigate.
Nothing in the lobby.
I pottered in the laundry room. While I was there, I put my hand in the dryer that caused all the Thursday pandemonium; it felt warm, so I assume it’s been mended again. Fifteen minutes later, a driver arrived at the front lobby door. He had the socls along with a few items for other flats. He came up in the lift with me, and I returned to my call. No, flat!
I opened the box of socks. Realising they have an L & R sewn into each pair.
How much do you bet that a Carer will leave on in the washer on his first visit with the new worn socks?

OH, DEAR!
More time is lost while using CorelDRAW. Then the door chime chimed out, and in came Carer Mizra. I realised then that the seizure had to have lasted for at least three hours. I haven’t had one that long in weeks, if not months. But the after effects were minimal and short-lived. I’m waffling, sorry.

Well, part of another day lost, following my losing most of the night before! Isn’t life exciting? I told Mizra of the prolonged seizure and the Detox tea. He said he’d look into my problem with my JS Nectar Card later on. Kind of him.

What a concoction I had tonight!
Truly a Multinational Meal.
Nandos Peri-Pei lemon & herb extra Mild sauce:(Vinegar, Onion Purée (6%), Lemon Purée (4%), Sunflower Seed Oil, Garlic Purée (2.5%), Salt, Spice and Herb Mix (Cayenne Pepper, Paprika, Parsley, African Bird’s Eye Chilli), Stabilisers (Xanthan Gum, Propylene Glycol Alginate), Antioxidants (Ascorbic Acid, Rosemary Extract), Colour (Paprika Extract), Dextrose), Made in the UK.
Extra mild Peri-Peri Sauce.
‘Mother’s Recipe’ Pakistani Vegetable pickle:
Mixed vegetable pieces, mango, carrot, lime, green chilli, amba, haldar, karonda, kerda, or other seasonal vegetables, brine, edible common salt, acidity regulator (ins260), edible vegetable oil, spices, condiments, asafetida..
Polish Fresh Garden Peas
Local-grown potatoes:
Roasted in the oven, sliced and then added to the mix, with a little Marmite added.
Isle of Wight Brown tomatoes
Quartered and added.
Bulgarian diced pickled beetroots.
Mushrooms & Mushroom Ketchup
Can of Romanian Pea Stew
Asian Water Chestnuts added.
Kung Po Chinese sauce
The whole lot was mixed up and put into the microwave, on high for 8 minutes.
Two Italian cheese-topped bread rolls.

I’m anticipating breaking the record for Porcelain Throne Trotsky Terence visits in any one day, tomorrow. Currently standing at six. I used far too much of the Pakistani vegetable pickle on that meal.
I used half of that quantity this time.

Carer Mizra helped me wash my feet, before he medicated the leg wounds cracka and fissures.

🌺 Keep Well & Safe 🌺

Inchie Today: Saturday 23th August 2025

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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

I rose and did a double back flip off of the bed and over the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, landing perfectly, and yodelled for a few minutes on the balcony.
Ahem!

Better colour today.

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

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

Popped out on the balcony later. Took these snaps.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inchie Today: Saturday 16th August 2025

/ Inchie / 20 Comments

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I used to know what I needed, wanted to do,
Be it involving a romantic rendezvous…
Or to throw a party, dance or a chanoyu,
Buy a Fiat, Skoda, Ford or a Subaru…
I’ve owned each of these in the past, too…
Oh, and of course my 4-wheel drive Diahatsu,
What to cook for my meal, not cordon bleu,
Roast or baked potatoes, or a beef & veg stew?
Or battered Haddock & fishcakes would do,
Buy it on the web, high street or at a vendue?
If it were never-never land, Utopia, or Xanadu,
A cat, a dog, a hamster, a hawk or a sucuruju?
Nowadays, the only thing guaranteed is a snafu!
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10:10hrs Sunday: Forgive the smiling photo of Inchy welcoming you to the blog… I’m so happy at this moment, despite it being Sunday morning and a late start to this catching-up blog. I feel blessed. My best friend is back. The best gift I rarely have nowadays is here with me. No logical reasoning why; Nothing has changed from yesterday’s gloominess in any way. But I woke up with Horis, and he’s still with me. I just love the ‘Sod-’em-all’ attitude Horis brings me. I can’t get into this mode myself, but surely Horis is myself in a warped way, must have assisted me to get in this blissful, albeit liable to dissipate as unexpectedly as he arrived.
But why can’t I bring it on when needed?
I’ve no control of it at all… well, maybe I could learn some Wicker-Tricks. I’m so far behind with the blog, it hurts. Got the new medical procedures to be monitored by a Carer. The bloody shaving, shower, and medications cost me over two hours. Teeth & gums bleeding. New growths on the leg. I’m baffled as to why I feel like this, yet bloody glad I do! I’m writing this now because I might forget to add it later.

The computer went down. I’ll add this to Sunday’s blog if I ever get it started. Got to finish this one before it freezes on me again. Using snaps to save time, sorry for the lack of or poor details.
Farewell sweet .

Health Checks were monitored by Carer Nimra.
BP High again!

Dry crinkly skin

Iceland
Food!

Amazing evening sky

Amazing evening meal!
At last, I cooked some cheesy baked potatoes that came out just as I like them. Gorgeous!

Have to stop here, keyboard problems now.

Spent three hours trying to get the computer to work, but I wasn’t typing well. The mouse was super sticky, so I changed batteries in both the mouse and keyboard. All closed and off, left it for an hour. Retried while Carer Miarza was visiting. Working in a fashion. At least temporarily. Don’t be surprised if this is the end of Inchie. Can’t cope.

TTFN.

Inchie Today: Monday 11th August 2025

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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Dad knocked one out for me, for talking sarcastically, 
Soups made from bones, tongue & hooves, are prone…
Sugar was cheap, a few more teeth, gone,
I got beaten up, lost more than one,
Dad sent me to the gym to learn to box skillfully,
Had a bout versus a muscle man, I was scrawny,
Lost all but one, won that on a technicality,
He had a heart attack, which was a bummer!
Dad got me playing cricket, being as it was summer,
Fast bowler, ball in gob, even bloody awfuller…
I got blood all over my coiffure,
A mugger, I said sod-off, he gave me a smack…
Lost a tooth from the front, one from the back,
Wonder how he did that, suppose it’s just a knack,
Hospital, trolley fell off of it, Oy, caramba!
Became an alcoholic, just beer, no gin or lager,
Pissed, miss bus, walk home, fall, lose a tooth, regular,
depression, sadness, melancholy, have a mope,
False teeth? I don’t have any hope…
Now Starmer is the UK’s new pope!
A greedy, dishonest, lying bloke,
I can’t afford to have my teeth out,
My bank balance is close to nothing,
Keir stole my money, I’ve not got gout,
Do I get no freebies? No, I do without, 
I’m getting older, more scatterbrained, dottier,
But have toothache! It’s getting  rottener,
But, with far fewer teeth to come a cropper,
11 medications, including Warfarin & Beta-Blocker,
I’d like to set myself up as Starmer Knocker?
A derogator of dishonest Herr Starmer,
I should really try to keep myself calmer,
If Keir would kindly die painfully, & slower, 
Now that really would be good Karma!
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02:00hrs: I bounded out of bed, did a double-flip, and yodelled as I opened the window and greeted the world with a smile…
That is not exactly authentic.
05:40hrs, I woke and fell asleep again, the moment I felt the pain from lurking in both knees. Wondering why, after all the harassment over the last two days, should the one ailment that has been absent all last week, suddenly start on the rampage? Within, I imagine two minutes of nodding back into dreamland, twitched; so violently, just the once. But it was enough to make me force my way out of bed, take off the nocturnal catheter pouch, and go in search of Codeine to ease the pain. This has never happened before; not the neck twitching, but the pain being so sharp. I’m assuming that it may have been caused by not getting medication for the days while in the hospital. What do you think? I left the card nearby with the bag, so the Carer can assess the colour for me.

Then I did the safety checks, although doing them last night when I got back from the hospital and finding I’d left the oven on was not encouraging.
I glanced out of the window and thought I saw the moon still showing in the photograph that Mirza took for me. Near the centre, about a third of the way down

I then thought I’d better get the ablutions and medications done before the Carer arrives.

The first task was to utilise the Porcelain Throne. But, for the third day on the trot, no evacuation was passed! A fair bit of noisy wind escaped, but not a sausage. Nothing, ziltch, nada or a blank. The shave was bloodless. Great!

I made a brew of Glengettie tea and got on the computer to update the Sat/Sunday blog. Which I achieved – but with Grammarly telling me that I had errors, wait for it… 333 errors! It took me an hour just to check them out & correct.

Carer Nimra arrived, walked straight in without using the door-chime, and found me with just the underpants on. Well, it was a warm day. Haha!
She’d been told nothing about me being hospitalised. I gave her an outline of the incidents that led to the fall and the following 21 hours of waterless, foodless time in the hospital. Late on Sunday, a new team started their shift, and I mentioned to one of the incoming nurses that there was no food or water available, as I was doing my every 15-minute mini ECG checks. She came back with a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich and a coffee for me. I thanked her for her efforts. But unfortunately, there were two rare things that I cannot eat. I didn’t mention it; not after she’d made the effort to help me. Carer Nimra barrier creamed my back flaps; I couldn’t reach them earlier. Then, she put some on the left Cartilage of Chloe, who was giving me some bother. We went onto the balcony, she wanted to take a photo, I think. Graded the urine bag as a level 5. Nice gal.

I then had a bit of a nerve-wrenching bother with CorelDraw and the computer, though.
I’d put an SD card in, which I found earlier, to see if CoralDraw would let me clear it, and try it in the camera to see if it would work.
, No! When I tried to delete the photographs (they were from 2009), the whole shebang froze!
Almost instantly, semi-panic was birthed, and DAWNED!
I sank so low. How can I handle so many disasters in such a short space of time? I wanted to curse, spit and scream! As I tried to think of a way to close the other programs, I couldn’t. The computer or CorelDraw, or both, were not allowing me to do anything at all. As I was thinking, if I leave it for an hour, just maybe it will reactivate? Yes, that’s how stupid I am! Which brought on the pathetic self-pity as well…

The door chime rang out, and in walked the lovely retired nurse 💗 who had been tending to my Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies’ fungal lesion. She inquired why the plaster was on my head, and even the depression could not stop me from telling the tale of Saturday & Sunday. She listened too. 🌹Bless her cotton socks 🌹. She then swapped the plaster with a new one. Checked out the piles and bum; they were much easier. Off she went with my appreciation shown, and of course, returned as I turned on the computer, and the same frozen CorelDraw showed up. So much for turning it off at the plug, the only thing I could think of. Then the doubts sprouted up again; Did I think of turning it of at the plug, or did I actually do that?
Doubting Thomas’s arrival, followed by the certainty that Calamity Jane was on the way, and back into mode.
I believe that while talking and listening with my sweet District Nurse, 🌹 I think that I flirted with for a few minutes, knowing that my precious nurse was with me. Have I fallen in love at my age, and in my current physical & mental state?
Her arrival actually froze out Darius for a while! Nothing has ever achieved that before! Death will, but then again, you never know, Darius may follow you into Heaven or Hell? I’m writing down my thoughts again. Waffling on? Lost the plot!Tsk!

I regained a modicum of concentration and mused over what to try next with the computer problem.
The intercom chimed out. It was Carer  Nimra. As she was coming up, I had a bit of a seizure, only a short one, but they usually have after-effects that are worse than after a long one. Blown if I can recall what took place. I feel things went well, though. Think we parted happily.

Now, back to the computer problem. I made sure this time, and had to disconnect from the plug, taking out the plug for a minute, then replacing it in the socket. I had little faith, but I continued. I didn’t turn on the computer, but instead, I turned it off again at the socket, and then booted the tormenting computer—with a flinch and a prayer. It went through a scary list of options to boot it up. To be honest, (Sorry to scare Herr Starmer by using that word, honest), I thought it wasn’t going to work, and I pressed the option buttons without making a note of them – What a Fool! It booted up! But I can’t remember the sequence for next time when I start it!
I got so angry with myself!

I pressed on and opened CorelDraw, Humph!
Some fonts didn’t load, so I had to select substitutes, which may cause problems in earlier postings.
The file you require is unavailable. Select another or save and rename this one to a different folder and name. I was baffled now. So I pressed the save-as tab and renamed the file. Well, it loaded, but very slowly. I expected a lot of work to be missing, as I couldn’t save it when the computer froze. Turned off CorelDraw and reopened it after a few minutes. The newly named file opened, and I investigated what was missing. As it happens, only a few photos and graphics were not there! I think I must have saved it just before the freeze. If so, I’m happy I did!
But the fear of booting up again lingered.

I got the Sat & Sun blog posted, and then I realised I hadn’t posted Fridays either. I was going to do that on Saturday, but then tumble interfered. So I checked that blog and posted it off too. I felt I was getting somewhere at last.

Carer Ejaz did the last call. No one had told him about the Hospital mayhem. He didn’t have time to listen anyway; it was a short visit, and he had another one to attend to. I’d not made a meal yet, so he left the night pouch on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, dirtier than ever catheter-tube-trapping recliner, for me to put on later after cooking. Which is okay, the new day bags are shorter and much smaller, so the risk of going giddy at bending down is minimal. The lad asked me to send the blogs to his mobile, which I did. He just had time to take two photos for me. One of the fantastic sun-going-down view, so fiery and colourful, from the kitchen window. Then he snapped my much-improved Lymphorrea Leslie legs. Don’t they look so much better now my new love 🌹 has been looking after them?

Well, I’m shattered now. I’m going to save & close everything, shut down the computer, and see if I can remember the sequence to boot it up again. If not, suicide is the best option. I can’t stand losing the computer forever, with all the disasters of the past week. Here goes, fingers crossed and curses and a hex on liar, back-hander taker, two-faced, unreliable, pensioner-disabler-family robbing, more Tory than Labour inspired, ☢ Herr Starmer. ☢

I may not be back…
Of course, you won’t know if I’m dead or the computer won’t boot, will you? Because I won’t be able to post this desperate plea for help, formerly identified as a blog. Crossed fingers then.
Heheheh!

What a Relief!
Got in, but with a degree of “It’ll only happen againness” – “How the hell did I do thatness” and
sank into the most prolonged Seizure of the day. I was just coming out of it when Carer Ejaz arrived to do the last call. So, my memory is a little vague again.
Ejaz, I think, took a photo of the meal. I guess it was Ejaz, anyway? Took the diabetic socks off. Left the catheter night pouch on the recliner, so I could remember to put it on after making the meal.

Got the meal of the day prepared.
Dry bread, tomato sarnies.
Red onions and some
superb chips!

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I should sleep tonight!
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