Inchie: Wed 19th Nov 25

20/11/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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My problems continue to be compounded,
But on this subject, I’m not particularly confused,
For my abilities have been commandeered,
I knew this was coming; I’ve long feared,
But there is no way this can be repaired,
Tasks, dreams, & wants cannot be completed,
Failure has to be conceded, accepted…
Although the causes are comprehended,
Problem-solving gets my brain circumvolved,
My balance gets hazy, giddy, circumlocuted,
Dark Dank Depression Darius is generated,
Self-pity can often be provoked, expedited,
Offers of help fail, after being countenanced,
Carer Ejaz today, really-really helped…
He got me an appointment in Sherwood,
He’s cheeky, but such a lovely lad,
They’ve cut his calls down. I was so sad,
Today, once again, he made me glad,
Suddenly, things don’t feel quite as bad!
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05:40: I remembered to do the balance exercises this morning. Honestly! First time in days, Hehe!
Got the nocturnal pouch off, and while emptying it, the need for an evacuation arose. I should think it took me at most 60 seconds to get seated, and Pwhor!
An Irish stew-like torrential burst of semi-liquid shot out as if it were nuclear-powered! Well, it was all over in seconds, ten at most! That was a bit of luck. If I’d been in the kitchen, I’d never have made it in time!

Off to the kitchen…
I’d left the bloody hot tap running all night again!
Good news, remembering the balance routine. Then, my being close enough to avert a Porvelain Throne embarrassment in the wet room. Now bad in the kitchen. Do you realise I’ve had more good than bad luck this morning? !

While waiting for the kettle to boil, I took three photographicalistions with my Kodak Tim 2 camera from the kitchenette window, of the dark, rainy view it beheld. The first one was not a good one at all, of the front car park. I tried again and made an even worse job of it. However, this did not stop me from making another effort, determined to get one passable photo out of the session. Well, it wasn’t going to challenge Savis Bailey’s reputation, Haha! But it was a smidge improved on the first two, I think.

I got the Health Checks sorted. Then I got the results put into the NHS graph thingamajig. It was nerve-racking how long it took to open Excel!

Carer Manpreet arrived. She sorted the medications and wanted to do a body check, cleaning, and foaming, but I explained that I have not had a shorter shave or wash yet, due to my newfound ability to keep leaving the hot tap running in the kitchen, daily!
Manpreet checked the HC figures; I’d got one wrong again. Good Luck 2 – Crap-Luck 6. That soon changed the odds. As Manpreet was leaving, the forgotten about Ocado order arrived.
Manpreet took the bags into the kitchen for me, which was very welcome and appreciated.

Some treats for the old man had come. Biscuits were Scottish Shortcakes. Cheesy curls and onion rings were put in the main junk-computer room for ease of access to nibble. He-he!
Jason’s sourdough rolls. Cheesy-topped rolls. Tucks, cheese & caramelised. Freshly cooked beetroot and cooked Polish Kielbasa sausages, and several bottles of Spring water.

On with the blogging at long last. I was titivating a CorelDraw graphic, and…
The computer froze! I was depressed instantly! I pondered over what had caused this for a while, and soon realised the only answer, not a cure, was to turn it all off at the power. I crossed fingers, and did. I waited for a few minutes and took another photo from the kitchen window. The first one of the slower-melting snow in the field.
Then one of the front car park for the third time. This one came out clearer. But it was a lot lighter, so I expected a better job.
Then I went back to the computer and turned it on.
I think the photos were taken out of fear or frustration, at least as a way to forget or hide the problem.
The computer came on all right. I temporarily changed some details in the Excel graph, changed them back, and the programme saved each one. So far, so good. Then I opened CorelDraw.
WHAT A PICKLE!
It started to load; it’s always been a slow job. When, as usual, CorwlDraw opened the last-edited page, I got so many error messages. I was bamboozled.
I was still trying to sort out the problems (over an hour lost so far), and Carer Misra arrived. He checked the second HC figures for me. Peptac and a painkiller were given. While he was here, the door chime rang out, and Carer Ejaz came in to do a more extended visit. Now I was getting more muddled than ever. Nizra was thanked, and he departed. Ejaz took the laundry down and got it in the washer.

Ejaz returned and took up the task of calling Virgin Media. Oh, no, first helped and guided me through an email they sent me yesterday evening. We had to change the password and merge details with my EE account. That took ages, but worked nicely thanks to Ejaz’s input.

Then, as he saw how I was struggling to see correctly, Ejaz suggested I ring the Doctor to get a referral for the EENT department to see about my worsening Glaucoma. Good idea. He called them and spoke with the patient assessor for some time. Handed me the landline handset to answer the bloke’s questions, he sounded as usual, uptight, short and sharp in speech.
I was starting my reply…
AND THE LINE CLUNKED AS HE CUT ME OFF!
As Ejaz and I spoke of the problem, Ejaz decided to ring the EENT directly. We got the number from the web. No answer. As we chatted further, I remembered that it was not the Doctor who referred me to the EENT over my Cataracts, it was the optician!
I got the same Sherwood optician’s number, and Ejaz rang them to ask for an appointment on a Wednesday, then he could go with me. After a short phone call, he declared that he’d got an appointment for me at 12:20hrs next Wednesday, 26th November.
Thank heavens for Ejaz! The lad went down to collect the laundry, returned with it, and hung it up for me. He’d looked after me well today with the appointment making. Thanks, lad!

The only issue is that no cleaning was done. No paperwork done. And no date checking. Not Ejaz’s fault, did a great job, but ran out of time. I’ve begged the social to give me more Carer time, but no.
Next week, nothing will get cleaned either, as we are going out to the opticians!
This place is going to be in a right mess.
Still, I am delighted to get to the opticians, and hope he can refer me to the EENT to get the left eye sorted. Lefty is so faded and blurry that I can’t really use it. I was thinking of getting an eye pad. Does anyone have any advice out there, please?
There’s no doubt that if he does pass me on, it will be a long wait. Can’t be helped. A bit like me. That’s not true. Ejaz & Mizra do their best and are pleasant with it. But Ejaz is only doing one call at night every day, except Wednesday, which is making things difficult. To put things in perspective.

After Ejaz rushed off, I went to make a brew of tea. I must get around to seeing if the computer will work again yet.
That’s how late it is!

Carer Ahram did the late call.
Ejaz might do the night call.

I got back on the computer.
It took me ages and a lot of tweaking to get CorelDraw to load the last graphic used. I had to move files around into a less heavily used folder, so many that I can’t remember where for next time this happens.
I loaded eventually, but it would not save. I had to search for CDR files and delete some to get it to save, but it isn’t working at the moment.
I used CCleaner and then Norton to clear more, hoping I haven’t buggered something up and that it won’t start in the morning.

Highly satisfactory!

I’ve had successes today, thanks to the Carers, particularly Ejaz, with appointments obtained.
But plenty of failures.
FED UP!

TTFNski

Inchie Today: Thursday 30th October 2025

31/10/202531/10/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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

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

Just a drop of urine overnight?

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another Almost Typical Day, Humph!

MAY FORTUNE FAVOUR YOU!

Inchie: Wed 3 Sept 25 Mini-Seizure Clusters

04/09/202504/09/2025 / Inchie / 16 Comments

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I couldn’t help the first thing, being born,
Getting thrown in the canal at Halthorn,
Mother and Joan of Arc for being a Capricorn,
I wish I could have avoided being earthborn,
Mother didn’t want me; she ran off to Eastbourne,
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My canoodling days, I spent happily in revelry,
Then a burglar decided to shoot me,
No praise for stopping the burglary
I nearly got the sack, I was thirty-three,
I tried to share things, antediluvially,
Shot again, got the sack, started the despondency.
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I’ll have to stop doing this eventually,
In fact, due to seizures, each one is a shortie,
Cruel after-effects, taking longer in recovery,
If I ever get the blog started, midnight a departee,
So far behind, hours lost, Anne Gyna is having a party,
Today’s seizures are rampant, I’ve never had so many…
I’ll have to try again on Thursday morning.
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Not feeling too well this merry morning. After four hectic, go-wrongable days, I’d hoped things might improve for me today. In fact, they did, whoopsiedangleploppery-wise. But, a new one today. A series of short mini-seizures started just before midday. I’ve lost count of how many. Each time, the recovery was taking longer and longer. Mt concentration was so bad. I was not getting the time to fully recuperate each time, and it felt like the next seizure recovery time… I’m just saying, getting back to semi-normality was impossible. I found myself going off track, which meant I couldn’t catch up on the blog. No time for the WP reader or comments again. I shall call the District Nurse if this lasts much longer. As I recall, my wanderings took me off track for the day. I split some boxes, tore them up into bags, and then took them along with the waste bins to the rubbish chute.
And I could have left them for the Carer’s to do, and most importantly, in moments of clarity, I kept urging myself to get on with the Ode and blog. Then I started, and was hoovering the room and hallway… not that I can recall much of this incident. Because the seizure would not subside. Well, they did ease off from about 17:00 hours to 20:00 hours… at least I think they did.
I’d taken photos and got a few on CorelDraw, but not on the blog gallery. Some I cannot recall taking.
Yet I coped, unhappily and grumpily, I admit, with the previous hell-days problems. I’ve been mentally all over the place today. Yet, I still managed to jot down some notes on the pad.

I may phone Matron about this Mini-Seizure barrage in the morning, even if the seizures stop altogether – I cannot cope with repeated short seizures. Having said that, it is the first time I’ve had so many, so close to each other. During any longer breaks between the seizures, I was another person. I swear I can recall laughing and joking with Carers’ Ejas and Nimra. At times, just until the subsequent recovery was needed. And I experienced some great moments despite Sanda’s Mini-Seizures.

I’ll see how things go on Thursday.
(Thursday morning, now) I’ll have to cut down on detail, not that they were entertaining anyway. To save time. Giving myself a chance to catch up.

Health Check Monitoring this morning, Carer Ejaz double-checked the returning figures for me later on, gave out medications, diabetic socks were put on, and a body check was carried out.He checked prescription medications…
,
And no prescription ones in the wet room.

Cragnangles! Done it again!
Wrong week for the Ocado order!
,
At least I’ve got some bread now, hehe!
Mor favourites too!

Seizures kicked off, I’ll say no more!
Well, maybe just, ARRGH!

Late afternoon, teatime.
Carer Nimra, I think, pointed out the state of my right leg. Next call, Ejaz put some Cetraben cream on the area, and it was much calmer in the morning.

,
I took this while recovering from the last bout of Seizures; they did not return after this. The odd single one, but with plenty of time to recover. Nice!

Three snaps of the rain on the kitchen windows.
Straight ahead.
To the left.
To the right.

The shot below was taken after I’d made, eaten and pictured the feast. But could not find the food photo in the morning to use? Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, 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.

Now, I’m having to contend with Sandra’s Mini-Seizure-Stampede. Grrr, Kragnancles and Flipping-heck come to mind. But, of course, they didn’t bother me in the slightest; I just laughed them all off. There is a slight modicum of a chance here that.

Despite these Seizure stampedes, there is one thing that they could not stop me getting, HMH;
I think my estimate of the division between Evil & Heaven is accurate. I may not have been as high a percentage for HRH. However, the relief gained while he was here was priceless.
I think without these High-Mode-Horis moments, I could not go on. They are better than any of the medications I’m on. The ‘Sod-them-all’ sensation that accompanies Horis is so unlike me; I’ve always been a worrier. In fact, I’m now worrying how I will cope without them. They came from an uncontrollable, weird entity… my own brain. How, why, I know not?
The only Anti-Depression-Darius Succes, without it, I’d be in a right mess.
Sorry about that bit of self-analysis. I wish the Neurologist would read this blog.

Kitchen window view.

🤎 GENTLY GOES IT 🤎

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

31/08/2025 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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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!.

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MISSING HORIS!

🤎 CHEERY-BYE FOLKS 🤎

Inchie: Friday 29th August 2025

30/08/202530/08/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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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: Tuesday 26th August 2025

27/08/2025 / Inchie / 15 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TAKETH CARE & KEEPETH SAFE

Inchie Today: Monday 25th August 2025

26/08/2025 / 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: Friday 22th August 2025

23/08/2025 / Inchie / 12 Comments

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In Poor Ode, with bad spelling,
A Co-op greenfruit & fresh fish shop I was managing,
I locked up the shop on a Thursday, half-day closing,
At the traffic lights, my mobile started ringing,
Bulwell manager asked if I could spare sharkfin,
“Aye, I can, I’ll get back to the shop. When are yer coming?”
“I’m on my way now!” So I did some reversing,
Back to the store, with the burglar alarm activating…
Someone had kicked their way in,
The Bulwell man would soon be arriving…
This front door’s where they’ll be escaping,
The back door had an impenetrable cast-iron grating,
It dawned on me that’s where I was standing,
Stand or run ideas kept alternating…
I bent down to the letterbox to have a look in,
Two hefty guys from the safe were appropriating…
cash, into a bag they were hastily filling,
The police were slow in coming,
They beckoned me in, and I was shaking,
The tall one said Any more cash for the taking?
No, I just did the banking!
Ah, a police siren I was hearing,
They panicked a little; my nerves were rattling,
I moved to the front, hitting the storage racking,
And sent a 56lb bag of potatoes falling,
Hitting a perp, sending him tumbling…
Hitting his head, I thought he looked dead,
His mate went to him, as his head had bled…
The police burst in, they almost appauded…
Things were not as they appeared,
My part in the proceedings was acknowledged,
5’3” me, stood over burglars, one winded, one wounded,
The whole situation got distorted,
They mentioned my part in their being captured,
In court, when they were prosecuted,
Then they saw what the CCTV had recorded…
My false heroic pride, suddenly circumducted!
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Slept in this morning, didn’t wake until 06:10hrs. Then got the grade five night pouch detached… No, no, I fib. I woke up for the first time around 03:00ish, and seemingly every five minutes after that, but just fell asleep again each time. Reluctant to rise for some reason.

Meandered into the kitchenette to get the kettle on. Pottered about for a good while, then paid a hopeful visit to the Porcelain Throne. Another half hour wasted, all that urging, pushing, & forcing came to nothing.
I’m beginning to wonder how much longer I can go without an evacuation. Before my innards explode?

The clouds were not colourful this morning. But by gum, they held a beauty that I could see. Likely thanks to .

Carer Elaz arrived and gave me the medications. He then helped me wash my feet in antiseptic disinfectant, dried them, and applied some of the new diabetic foam. He’s a good lad, but had to rush off to his next client. I no longer have a memory worth anything. When some of them ask, Is there anything else? I blank out, especially if the seizures are visiting, which makes things even worse.

I was struggling with my concentration suddenly, and departed. When I started to drink my mug of tea, the bloody seizures kicked off. No long ones yet, but God knows how many that I had. I’m sure I had two in the morning, but from then on, until Carer Nirma did the tea time one, it’s all a blank to me. All the signs were there of after effects. I hadn’t cleared my head by the time she arrived, and I had no idea if she’d noticed. She did, though, catch my sore throat through my croaky voice. At least I think she did.
Anything from here on can and must be taken with a pinch of salt.

I vaguely recall taking these shots from the balcony. The first one was taken, and then the second one some time later.
I think I was on WP typing in reply to Billum’s comment about the red car.

A break in the seizures was welcome. Things cleared up a lot, and I realised I’d let the catheter bag fill too much as I stood up. Oh, dearie me. The weight in the bag tugged on Little Inchys fungal Lesion.

Carer Mirza arrived and took off the socks when I requested it. I remembered! He also put the diabetic foam on the dry skin on my legs, and asked if I needed Peptac or Cough Medicine. Nice, lad.

The plan for tonight’s meal is: Garden peas. Ready-made cheesy mashed potatoes, warmed in the oven after adding a dollop of Leicester red cheese, salt & no-butter butter and mixing it all up together. Into the oven, and just before the tatties are fully crisped on the top, add the peas. Two cheesy-topped bread rolls, a side pot of sauce, and some brown tomatoes to round it off. How does that sound? Then I’ll add a Polish Farmhouse sausage.

I was pleased with the result.
I ate all of it. (Gannet!)

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TTFNski!
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Inchie Today: Wed 20 Aug – A Daymare afternoon & evening!

21/08/2025 / Inchie / 11 Comments

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What invention can you recall that is now Zeerust?
The Sinclair C5 was, I think, the wackiest,
I can’t recall seeing one of these at all,
I did try it, I had a ball!
Another one that I never knew!
Oh, a two-seater, too!

One of the technological oddities of the 1980s is making a comeback of sorts. The nephew of Sir Clive Sinclair – the man responsible for the famous, but flawed Sinclair C5 – is marketing an updated version of the diminutive electric vehicle called the Iris eTrike. The new street-legal, one-person hybrid electric/pedal-powered tricycle is billed as faster and safer than its 1980s predecessor and sports a Plexiglas canopy, so it can be used in all weathers. Dogressing here: Incidentally, I loved the Sinclair ZX computer to bits!
This new Iris eTrike, in its 250W EAPC (Electrically Assisted Pedal Cycle) version, is legally considered a bicycle in the UK and can be ridden by those 14 years old and above on roads and cycle paths wherever bicycles are permitted. It does not require registration, tax, insurance, or a driving license. The rider is not required to wear a helmet. I hope it doesn’t catch on like eScooters, apparently, since their introduction in 2019 to July 2025, there’s been 69 (including 25 children, & 18 pensioners) reported deaths involving escooters. Additionally, there were 628 casualties admitted to hospitals with serious injuries between 2020 and June 2024. A significant number of e-scooter injuries are not reported to the police.
Back to the Ode, I got research impulses then, sorry.

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As a nipper, I fancied being a flautist,
Not that I was musical, I was tuneless,
In the cadets, we were learning about flamethrowers,
The TSM’s daughter, Iris, came in; legs and breasts? Corkers!
I got the urge for passion and frivolities,
I spoke with her, no time for faintheartedness,
She was in the church band, I started flaunting…
After our first meeting, we started courting,
Thick thighs, passion-filled, but not daunting…
How long would it be before I was attempting…
To get close, have a grope and into her knickers?
That night I tried my goddamnedest…
I worked, I was transported to heavenliness,
We melded together; there was no hiatus…
Her attractiveness? Here weightiness & willingness,
No hypersensitiveness, it was just pure marmonious,
Our bondings may well have been erroneous,
But to we youngsters, found them frabjous,
Iris said, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
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THE MORNING BLISSES… THEN, THE PM AND EVENING COLLIESHANGIES!
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No Blogging Achieved! No time, no successes, nothing went right this afternoon. It would have been a difficult task, with all the extra jobs that needed to be done, or as today, not done. With failures, and . A mentally & physically draining, frustrating, annoying, anger-making, late seizure-ridden, pain-polluting, ill-making, infuriating, maddening, barely-endurable, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna & Frustration Frank creating, sod of an excruciating infested, making my blood boil, day.
Life is not working – I am not coping. I have never felt so angered, aggravated or exasperated. Anxious, uneasy, nervous, tensed-up, worried, and pissed-off with life. Solutions are unavailable, and ten-minute visits from different Carers eliminate them from solving anything. The problems remain, despite my begging Wardens, Carers & anyone daft enough to listen to me, for help. None of the situations and or issues that were deemed fit to torment me today were my fault. (Well, maybe the tumble – but that was well-timed, the only bit of good luck I had all day, I think. Carer Ejaz rescued me again. Got me up with a struggle) Usually, they crop up when there is no help available from a Carer or Warden.

The farce with the laundry is representative of what I mean. Carer Ejaz arrived for the one extended visit of the week. Getting me back on my feet from the tumble was his first job. Still, at this point, we did have a laugh between us. No injuries, just aching back and a bruise on my hand, neither of which was of any significance. (By night I was thinking the same thing about me, sad innit?)
Ejaz took the laundry, got it in the washer and returned to make some phone calls for me. He used my mobile, which is going to cost me. Carer Nimra uses her phone, which charges me by the minute or part of a minute. The first call he made for me was to the Audio Centre. To make an appointment for me on Wednesday, so I can take a Carer with me. He found out that they are only open for 3 days a week now, not including Wednesdays! He received a recorded message stating that they are only open to patients on Mondays, Tuesdays & Thursdays. So, since he failed to make an appointment through no fault of his own, I’ll have to go on my own if we ever make one. I hope I get knocked down on the way, then Mr Pensioner-Hating Starmer can be thanked for his failed promises to ‘mend the NHS’, and he may be able to give himself another notch for another pensioner killed, who couldn’t hear the electric car that killed him. Come to think of it, waiting for the Glaucoma operation, I wouldn’t see it either.
I digressed there.
Ejaz went down and moved the washing into the dryer. I returned and asked him to mop the kitchen and wet room for me. Which he did, in a fashion.
He sorted the medication drawer and went down to collect the laundry. He returned, saying it was still wet, too wet, and his time was up. Telling me to tell the 17:00hr Carer to collect it then.
No way, I’ve lost laundry twice before that I left in a machine. My fault, I’d forgotten on both occasions that it was still doyen there. Carer Ejaz shot off.
I stopped what miserable bit of blogging that I’d done and made a brew. 35 minutes later, I painfully hobbled down to the laundry room to investigate.
My clothes were in the dryer, tumbling away. I returned to the flat to find it had 25 minutes left to run. Drank my cold tea, used the Porcelain Throne.

I went back down the 13 floors in the lift to check on the dryer again. The dryer was still churning. I stopped it, opened the door, and the clothes were still wet through and cold! Grrr!
I couldn’t put it in the other dryer because someone else had already used it.
Back up to the flat. 40 minutes later, I frustratedly returned to move my clobber into the other machine. But, No! A different load of clothes was now in the dryer. So, I stayed down in the laundry room. To make sure this did not happen again. An hour later, the dryer was still running. Carer Nimra came into the lobby, admitted by some garden workers.

Luckily, I’d left the door open, and saw her walking by talking to the young men, and called out, else she would have gone my way and up to the flat, which would cause even more complications. I explained the situation, and she took out the dry clothes from the dryer and threw mine into it. And we poddled up to the flat. Medications issued. Telling me she had had a bad day too. Six minutes later, she was off.

I went down to keep an eye on the dryer, in case someone else took mine out. A chap came in, and I told him about the first dryer being kaputt. But he still put his things in it and tried to get it to work. He was keen for me to take mine out so he could use dryer two. I foolishly took out my clothes, finding they were not thoroughly dried by a long shot.

I was spitting blood by the time I waited for the dryer, then feeling a fool for taking it out early to appease the grunting chap. I was too tired and tense, and with no time to spare, I could only manage a bit on the blog post! I got even more agitated and swore a lot when I got into the flat and found the slippers still soaked, and all the clothes needed hanging to dry all over the place. The wet room, kitchenette, hallway, and the already filled slow-airer.

Full of angst, weary, and tired out, I managed to get some food sorted, a stew cooked in the microwave.

Sat down to watch some TV to unwind, and fell deeply asleep. Shooting away at 04:00hrs, with the TV still on, the remote balancing on my man breasts, and bile coming up through my throat.

So many other things happened today. Good stuff in the morning! But, I’m so far behind again. And cannot read the sparse notes I’ve put in the memory pad.
I’ll have to sort the SD card and any photos I might have taken in the morning, in hopes of jiggling my memory of them into action.

Urine 4.5 level

Waking up time, Humph!

I very nearly made the bed!

Taken from the computer chair

Terrible kitchen view shot

Car park in the drizzle

Two khagules to hand wash

Hung them to dry in the wet room

Much bleeding gums

Memory pad & mug of tea

The rain stopped

Whoops, started again!

Carer Ejaz arrived. If I’d known what
lay ahead, I wouldn’t have let him in.

The following six hours of misery, I’ve got out of the way earlier in the blog.

The red car is back on the chevrons.

I’m not sure how I managed to make this meal.
I had a few mini-seizures while making it. I’d put a potato in the slow-cooker about nine hours earlier and forgot about it. A can of beef stew, garden peas, chick peas, Gung Po sauce, mushroom ketchup, pickled gherkins & beetroot were added, and finally, the potato was cut up. Then everything was mixed together. Microwaved it for six minutes. No mess in the kitchen in the morning!
Another mystery: How did I not burn any food or myself, cut myself, drop anything, or remember this bit of the cooking when other things are blank? The notepad writing looks like shorthand again.

Another messy, spirit-sapping, farcical day.
I’m not sorry it went away!

Inchie Today: Tuesday 19th August 2025

20/08/2025 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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How can one cope in old age?
With your infected brain, you cannot assuage,
Neurotransmitters prevent anchorage…
You may get a brain haemorrhage,
And mistake a hostage for a sausage?
Wine, tea, or water tastes like any beverage
The same as lettuce, garlic or cabbage,
You’ll get a regular bladder & bowel blockage,
The next day, each will have a floodage!
Your IQ will suffer near-fatal damage,
Into the past, your mind will carucage,
You’ll not understand it; this mental carnage,
Be a soft target for hustling or chantage,
When you die, you may leave just coinage,
Every day needs pain tolerance & courage,
Ask how you became this physical wreckage?
Know the nurses by name at your triage,
Reality & fantasy will soon start to merge,
You’ll wee-wee whenever you get the urge,
Your leaking catheter may again surge?
Lose interest in sex & carnal knowledge,
You’ll never understand how to mailmerge,
Amazed at how you coped with life’s voyage!

Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be…
That could be a phrase dedicated to Inchie…
Take good & bad, calmly and uncomplainingly?
Treat both extremes, impassively, unemotionally?
Avoid sulking, emotion; Don’t respond delinquently.
Bad as it is, worse will come eventually,
Cope with fate, as you grow elderly…
Laugh, smile, care not, adopt faux-longanimousity,
Mental blockages, bad luck, injuries 100, good luck 1.3,
So many medications are taken diurnally,
Things you did dynamically, now done dysfunctionally,
Decisions taken determinedly, but now dithery,
Lack of concentration makes you act lackadaisically,
Teatime each day, you tire, meet sleep unresistingly,
You’ll fall into sleep, dreamingly…
Your Carer or Nurse wakes you up successfully…
Shouting in your ear, “Yo’ alright? Can yer hear me”?
“Oh, fine, thanks!” you say stroppily!
Then she goes and beats you again at Monopoly!
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Got up at 02:45hrs. I got so carried away with doing the Odes, and with another prolonged seizure (Albeit the after-effects of the long ones seem to be less bothersome than the mini ones), I just ran out of time to get much else done. I don’t want to fall so far behind with my blog again. Although I no doubt will. The neurologist, dentists, and audiologist appointments may be finalised this or next week. I don’t know how long they will be for, but I have to give a week’s notice for ordering lifts.

Carer Nimra tried to ring the Dentist about my appointment time and date confirmation, but there was no answer. I believe I may have made an Arithmaphobia error and put it on the calendar for yesterday. But we could not get through to them on Monday or today. Carer Ejaz, who accompanied me on the last appointment, believes the next one was scheduled for January, but Muggin’s here has it listed on the wrong date. They usually send an email or text to remind me.
The more urgent telephone calls needed are: one to the Audio Clinic to book an appointment, preferably on a Wednesday, and one to Easy Link community buses, to book a lift both ways. But we do need 7 days’ notice, so even if they have an earlier cancellation, I can’t take it.

Now the computer is playing up on me again.
A quicky this time. No time for any more writing.
I’ll try to get the photos on. What few there are.

Sugar!
CorelDraw just crashed!