Cartilage Carole Gave Way

Inchy: Monday 14th April 2025

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THE HAZE/HASH OF OUR HMG!
I faced adversity catastrophes, indomitably,
Searching for success, I found extinction,
Been shot, heart attack & bankruptcy,
Recognised politicians showed prevarication,
They rule unreliably and lyingly…
Take backhanders with pretension,
Reliable? Each one is a proletariat’s liability,
Growing their wealth in HMG’s pantheon!
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Starmer lines his pockets, carefreely,
Lie, steal from pensioners, Scot-freely!
Prices are rising for food, gas & electricity,
Keir does it all so perfunctorily, blasély,
Surely, he’s an under-the-bed Tory?
His price rises show his peccability,
The voters he scoffs at dismissively,
Proletariats get poverty and penury!
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Who voted for him, primarily plebian…
Realise now, it shouldn’t have been,
He’s mendacious, criminal, immoral & mean!
Keir’s term in office: a trial by ordalian,
Starmer got 3m votes, fewer than Corbyn,
Still enough to give him a win,
That was due to the Tory’s suiciding,
Citizens’ fears are accumulating!
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His lies, there’s not been an investigation,
He shows no signs of any opprobrium,
A man of obfuscation and deception,
No prosecution, just mystification…
Civil Service & HMG are both crooked,
Their guilt, either hidden or resolved,
Most of what they’ve done, I anticipated,
Starmer should be sacked & becudgelled!
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He claims to be a necessitarian,
I think that he’s Machiavellian!
Ill-conceived, ill-advised, & misbegotten,
There’s no hope, no pharma-conation,
As he strangles voters of the Nation,
I’m not saying he’s a pigwidgeon…
Nor a patrician, but a man on a mission,
To take backhanders & make commission!
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He’s worthy of, and gets my derision,
Mayhap the Lord’s resurrection…
Along with our citizens quiritation…
Can bring about, Starmer’s retrogression,
Force him into his own rescission?
Free us of Keir, the self-rhetorician?
Give him a thorough scrutinisation,
But of course, this will not happen!
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CATCH UP
Owing to my plans to get a wash and sit-down when the fatigure-fell yesterday teatime, I got nowt done on the computer again for the rest of the night.
I thought I’d fall asleep and get a few hours in before the last Carer’s call, then restart doing the blog.

Instead, I had God knows how many mini-seizures but no actual sleep. Three hours later, Carer Ahmed arrived. Said I was, sitting there mumbling to myself and breathing heavily, with my eyes open. Once I got up, I felt so drained. I nearly fell back down again. But Ahmed was as quick as a flash and stopped me from plumping back into the 1966, £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.
He got my diabetic socks off my feet, issued the medications and checked the taps and oven for me. After the lad left,
I went to the kitchen to make a meal. Boy, was I tired out and drained.
I took these fantastic puffer cloud shots.

Minced beef with black beans.
Some seasoned unskinned chips.
Lovely!
A cornet of ice cream afterwards. I’d made
too much again. Well, not much!
But at least I didn’t spill any.
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How can one be so drained and tired but not get to sleep? Horrible night. Forever jumping awake within minutes of the odd nodding off’s that I got.
I gave up and got up at 05:00hrs.
Sorted the waste bins. Then the big task began.
What a session. There is no other word for it. Great!
A cutless shave, absences of , , , & . I’ll add because she did not kick off until later.

The medicationalising was not too bad, but no worse than of late. Until, of course, it came to the last task, ointmentating and rubbing it in poor suffering . I creamed where I could reach of the ribs & backs . Again, I could not get those on my back. I’ll ask the Carer if he can help when he arrives. At least I have a good stock of new barrier cream in the drawer.
I must have taken longer than I thought on these tasks. As I got the PPS on without much of a struggle, I’d like to add, and was getting the Kagoule on, the Carer Ahmed arrived.

Ahmed was on good form this morning. Medications were issued, and my diabetic socks were fitted.
He then applied barrier cream to my back and ribs, using the last of the old tubes of Derma Cream. Achmed liked doing this job and was good at it. He then sprayed the glaucoma spray on my eyes for me. I’ll call him Dr. Ahmed from now on. Hehehe! He asked for another local accent word, and I gave him ‘Kip’ for a sleep or nap. I’ve given one a day for a few days. The first was ‘Tara” for cheerio. He said he had used it with other clients this morning, and they loved it. Hearing that cheered me up. Yesterday, it was ‘Aye-Up.’ I think the other one was ‘Midduck’. No, that one’s for tomorrow.

Ahmed took a photo of me with a Kodak-Tim-1.
He’d drawn the curtains, knowing how the sunlight affects Glaucoma Gladys.
He thought I looked like a Mafia Boss. Haha!

I grafted away on the Ode making and got it finished.
Then, I updated and posted the Sunday blog. During the morning, I took these snaps from the kitchen.
The shadows from the rising sun from the back of the flats made some of them enjoyable.
The painted houses. If not, I might not see them.
My block of flats’ shadow in this one.
Took later.

Carer “Joe” arrived. He did a grand job of helping again, bless him. He rang the surgery to see if I could get an appointment for any Wednesday, his more extended visit laundry day. 3rd on the waiting list. Got through and he tried his best, but the earliest Wednesday might be 4 weeks wait, and he wasn’t sure if the Doctor could fit it in for the times that Joe was here. Chances were getting dimmer. I suggested that perhaps she could give me a call at home. Yes, but not on a Wednesday. I ended up with her ringing on Monday the 28th between 10 & 11:45hrs. In 14 days. Going well for the NHS, innit? We had to agree; there was no other choice, had we?

Computing was going very slow today.

Carer “Joe” returned to the first evening call. Again, he helped out no end. He called the chemist and arranged for the medications to be sent to his company’s chemist for collection. I’m lost with all these changes. Thank heavens for Carer “Joe”!

It’s already 20:00hrs gone. I’ll make a meal and try to catch up in the morning.

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Fare Thee All Well!
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Inchy Today: Monday 3rd March 2025

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I find life to be undefined,
Plans and hopes are undetermined,
Often, my thoughts are unwarranted,
My intentions remain unendorsed,
No outcomes are usually unassured!
Daily seizures are unprecedented…
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My brain? It cannot really be classified…
My bones & joints are crepitated,
In High Mood Horis, I’m almost contented,
Deep Depression Duncan often caprioled,
No one here, no chance of getting croodled,
Life is getting more circumscribed…
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There’s a hollowness when I get depressed,
I get sorry for myself, feel disadvantaged,
It may prompt wild things to be deliberated,
My thoughts get convoluted, disassembled,
A nasty DDD session can only be described…
As coffee that’s been decaffeinated.
I hate it, sickening until it’s departed!
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DDDD can’t be rectified or remedied,
It’s beyond being cured or rectified,
After it was analysed, I was repulsed,
Dementia inside cannot be resarciated,
I admit I felt forlorn, resigned…
The seizures & DDDD never retreated,
Another visit soon, to be reinvestigated,
I wonder if my brain can be reinstalled.
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In High Mood Horis, I can feel stimulated,
Although that sounds a little sugar-coated,
To wild dreams & fantasies I succumbed,
DDDD returns, I get mentally spifflicated,
The longer the session, the more scunnered,
Mentally drained, and feel shanghaied,
Writing this ode, I’ve been shemozzled…
The DDDD has suddenly sequestered,
Blessedly to uncaringness I succumbed!
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If Happy Horis stayed all day accommodated!
And DDDD could be disconnected, abdicated,
Then hopes & plans could be activated,
Then I could be far less aggravated!
And no doubt feel much less alienated,
But of course, DDDD can’t be amputated,
The damned DDD can’t even be ameliorated,
But I can get so frustrated and acerbated…
Realising that my needs can’t be assuaged,
Dreaming the Seizures may be assuaged
And Anne Gyna’s pains be abrogated!
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Daily, I’m self-loathed and vilipended,
Verbally, I’m self-verberated,
Also, I get self-vulnerated,
Once, when I left the hot tap running, I vomited,
And again, was self-vociferated,
I believed I should be vapulated,
Had my sanity been vitiated?
I kid myself I am capably viveured,
I’ve still often get self-verbally-violated,
The line below: Can I be acquitted and vindicated?
I’d gladly see Starmer vivisepultured!
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DDDDD WAS ON FOR MOST OF THE DAY.
Little got acheived.
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I found a few missing photos from yesterday’s internal memory of the Kodak Tim 2. Here they are.

Late evening shots from the kitchenette.
To the left
Centre
And the right
An earlier shot, with the moon crescent
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There’s not a lot on here. I’ve got to admit that really got to me today. I’m so sorry, but I was pathetically mopping about in between the lousy seizures and just couldn’t muster any enthusiasm until late afternoon when visited me. He didn’t stay long, and it was soon back to sitting, staring at what might as well have been a blank screen. But with an overfull catheter bag, too! The Carer told me when they arrived. An hour later, and returned and is still with me as I type away now on this computer. I spent hours on today’s ode. The reason? I’ll tell yers, Haha! Who usually comes on bad around 16:00hrs or so, blurred things at 14:00hrs.
Then, amazingly, at 15:00 or so, the vision came back quite suddenly. So I’m getting on with it, but naturally, I expect the return on or at any time now. Omlt just typed this, and electric shocks shot up my right leg, followed by his ‘ailment-in-arms’ partner .
No shaving cuts today, yet. I didn’t have one! Dirty boy!
As I was about to go in the wet room. Miserably, I gave up the fight and, feeling sorry for myself, sat down and fell asleep! I was woken up by who was in cahouts with DDD and Seizure Sandra. The daft things, I guess!
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Only photos to trigger the memory from here on.

I’m not sure this is today’s shot of the waste bags. I may have got it mixed up and deleted the wrong one.

I was merrily grafting away here. And I got that fearful, sudden-sinking feeling; I thought I had left the hot tap running again. I moved limpingly to the kitchen, and the catheter contraption fell down to almost my ankle! Arrgh!
The tug on Little Inchy was as near to excruciating as I wanted it to be. At least the tap was not running – but I’d left the fridge door open!
Now, the problems multiplied.
I had a mini-seizure as I was checking the catheter and tried to pull it up quickly to relieve the pain. Lost my balance and reached out to grab the corner of the counter, and unfortunately, I missed it due to the intense sunshine blasting through the window! I now have even more scars on the tight leg ulcer, and it bled a tiny bit as I caught it on the trolley.
On the bright side, there usually is one if I look hard enough -at least I stayed, as wobbly as they were, on my feet.
Now I had water running out of the fridge, blood trickling down my leg, a mess to sort out, and the telephone started ringing!
I abandoned the mess I created and got to the landline in time. Sister Jane talked about tonight’s Forest vs. Ipswich F.A. Cup game. She and Pete are going to it. (I watched it later; it’s still on the box, in extra time).

Then I went back to the kitchenette, and it wasn’t until then that I realised I’d just soaked myself in the cold water I’d poured into the bowl and dropped it! Wet dressing gown, legs, and feet. Which, of course, made the messed-up area even larger to clean up now! DDDD went deep this time. I can’t recall everything I had to sort out. It must have taken me well over an hour and a half. Washing and drying inside the fridge and throwing away some soaked foods. I changed my shirt and protection pants. Putting my wet slippers, shirt & dressing gown into the laundry bag. Then, I got fresh slippers, a shirt and a dressing gown. I still had some cleaning up I’d missed, and the landline rang again.
All I could hear was background noise. For anyone who knows me, to ring this late worried me. I thought it might be my sweetheart, Frank’s Jenny, or sister Jane. Jenny might have been in a pickle with something, like Jane. I’d got Jane’s number on auto dial on the landline, so I rang her first; as I did, I realised she would be at the football match. No surprise she didn’t answer. Then I rang Jenny. I know it was late, but she might have needed support or help, so I rang. She told me she was okay, and that was wonderful to hear. She spoke of the window cleaner situation at the flats and asked about the medical problem, and I told her I was waiting for Matron Jackie to visit me to explain about the seizures. Bless her for her caring nature ♥. Then Jane rang back. I was in total disarray. So many things were happening simultaneously, and I had little, if any, control over any of them.

Anne Gyna and both turned their attentions on me at the same time.
I had to give up sorting anything out. Concentration and confusion took over. I’ll try to finish this before I give up and get my head down. I’m so tired and weary now. Even joined in the mayhem.
I’m not interested in eating at all. In the morning, I must ask the caregiver to redo/repair/replace the catheter for me.

I’ll get the out-of-sync photos on.

Aha, letters delivered.
Carer allowance cut?
It’s still unopened.
The same dosages.
I remembered and made time to update the c1970s clock-calender at 17:10hrs it seemed. Hehe!
Results of the Accifauxpas over the last two days!

I’ve eaten nothing all day and am so tired. I think I’ll have some biscuits and get my head down.
Another busy day is coming up tomorrow.
Just what I need after today’s farcicalness!
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A Thought: Please make tomorrow less stressful. PLEASE!
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I’ve got back with me again, now. Grumph!

TTFN.

Inchy: Tuesday 21st January 2025

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Last night, I spent coughing very chestily,
And kept sneezing cacophonously,
Passing wind virtually continuously…
From Reflux Roger and my bottie,
Freezingly and shiveringly,
My tears ran down into my mouth; rather salty,
Little Inchie’s fungal lesion bled capriciously…
Sleep? Well, that was an impossibility,
I was dealing with these new ailments intolerantly,
But Thought Storming Steve gave no claptrappery,
I gave up trying to do things somnambulatory,
And escaped the bed to the lavatory,
Trotsky Terence came prematurely…
This was most shamefully embarrassingly!
Then, the job of doing the cleaning,
More problems when I started computing…
Gmail graphics on it, refusing!
I took Codeine and an Adrenocorticotrophin,
Got my mask on, and Carer Chloe came in,
As she sorted the medicationing…
The food delivery was arriving…
The driver took the bags through to my kitchen,
I forgot to ask Chloe to put my socks on…
Today, there was many an omission,
Chloe left, and I sank into a state of curmudgeon,
As I fought back the incoming depression,
Second Throne visit – even more humiliating,
What am I dreaming of, imagining, indicating?
Diabetic Dementia, mind juggling…
Yet this cold seemed more worrying & bothering?
Enough of my self-tormenting, witwantoning,
I going to get this Ode done, then my bed I will jump in,
Carer Sam called, and I was moaning…
My self-pity vessel was filling,
Life is not very fulfilling…
I’ll battle on, but I’m not genuinely willing,
My bad luck seems unrelenting,
Onto the bed, I’ll soon be settling,
Will I be able to manage to get some sleeping?
If owt happens, that’s worthy of writing,
Anything worth reporting…
No camera for photographing…
Where am I going?
What am I doing?
What will ensue for me?
Maybe a summat will happen. That’s thrilling…
Enchanting, stirring, exhilarating?
Huh, blood from the teeth & gums are flowing!
Onto the bed, in search of Sweet Morpheus,
Oh, I’m expecting the nurse…
Hristina, a lovely, kind gal, an Aquarius
I love to see her and her apparatus!
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Sleep didn’t come, but apprehensiveness did,
The next few hours were fetid, which made me livid,
Getting no sleep, but I felt almost intrepid…
The following events didn’t make me stolid,
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Here are the reasons why I hadn’t slept,
An alarm went & stopped,
Then there rang out a fire alarm, I panicked
An alarm went beep-beep-beep-bleep & stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped,
The landline rang, someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Again, the landline rang; too late, the ringing stopped,
An alarm went beep-beep-beep and stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped,
After five hours a minute’s sleep, I was gifted,
Then the alarm went beep-beep-beep & stopped,
Carer Chris came in, into the drinks selection he dived,
Then, a drink was chosen & correlated,
Again, the landline rang; someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Then Cartilage Carol once again crumpled,
But a complete fall was deflected…
The leg was medicated & elastoplasted,
An alarm going beep-beep-beep was emitted,
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Carer Chris had forgot to bring the camera,
But he took a shot of the meal & bilgewater!
And the hospital bed, & controller,
On his phone, saved these to his SND recorder,
Said he’s off work for 72 hours,
Wants to be with his wife, who is now pregnanter,
Carer Richard & Joanne off, both much poorlier,
I know how they feel with acute coryza,
Head cold, grinding-coughing, known as Flu-R,
It is unpleasant and a right miserable bugger!
I tried to get some sleep, but it was deactivated…
But my plans were again ascerbated…
Don’t come to hospital, sufferers are told…
The hospitals are so busy, shemozzled,
My plans, ideas, & hopes have been sphacelated,
Flu-R is so bad that I’m dumbfounded,
If I stood up, moved or even quetched,
Ailments these last two days have quintuplicated!
I feel my designs have been mancipated,
My thoughts could do with being manumitted,
shame, embarrassment, teeth always gritted!
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Today, I felt as if I was apprenticing…
Coping with this new bug or flu and learning,
I rang 111 to ask what I could be taking?
To counter the constant sneezing?
My heavy breathing and wheezing?
My impossibility to get any sleep in?
Can I take an alcoholic drinkie?
To counter the phlegm & blubbering?
NHS 111 said don’t take Aspirin…
Cause you’re on Finasteride & Warfarin,
Well, that was not very informing!
Then they added I’m not to go to hospital…
Doreen Dementia understood it was elemental,
I considered bringing up my mental problems.
The line went dead; it was pretty comical!
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Figures show urgent and emergency services, with 98,118 ambulances handed over to hospitals last week and 495,442 calls received by NHS 111. No wonder they are struggling to cope with the stampede!
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I’m fed up with this bug! Tsk!

Inculpatory Inchy: Thursday 25th July 2024

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I can’t really remember anything getting at me today. I had moments of near contentment (they soon faded, but they were very welcome). Things were near normal throughout the day. Carer Carer visiting helped. At times, I thought I was… well, drunk or drugged. There was no reason for my feeling up, and the depressions were rare, short and very mild.
What a change! The day still brought along the Whoopsies and odd Accifauxpas. I even deleted and could not get back one of my Ode word lists. This would typically have had me pulling the hair I have not got, swearing, spitting, and self-hating and loathing my stupidity! Not today!
As I type this (19:00 hrs), I’m so far behind because I had to create another list, but I’m still just plodding on.
I’ve had to buy more toothache killer spray, treats for the nurses & carers, a new shower head, and more AA batteries. My bank account must be the lowest it’s been in years. Yet I plod on with the blog and have got my meal cooking as I type. I’d better go and check on it. It’s all okay, not that I’d have bothered if it wasn’t. It’s as if someone else had taken control of my emotions!
On with Inchy Today…

I had a terrible night’s sleep. I was forever waking up from electric shocks from the ankle or being shaken awake by Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley. As I forced myself out of bed (no whoopsies!), I saw the dark urine in the bag. And Carer Christopher arrived, that is how late I was getting up. About 07:15hrs.
Chris took the photos of my warped legs. The right knee was blown up… Not bombed or anything, just swollen (Hehe!)
There are some new bruises. The ankle ulcer now completely surrounds the right ankle. And the thing that worried Chris was that the lower right leg seemed to have shrunken in. The cause of this beat us both. Even that didn’t get to me! ‘Are you not worried, mate?’ he asked me. I think I said, well if it wasn’t that, it’d be something else going wrong! Laughed and got him a cold drink from the fridge while he selected some nibbles from the carer’s desk. As soon as Chris departed, Window Man Joe arrived to clean the balcony glass. He was in a vague mood. Hope he’s alright.

I got on the computer better late than never, and I deleted a file with my Word list in it. Unworried, I thought it would be in the trash, but no. I spent the next two hours plus making up another one, so nothing was done on the blog itself. I should have been livid-angry. Nope, I just got on with it.
Something must be seriously wrong here.
For this morning’s photo of the sun, I accidentally used the sunset option on Kodak Tim. But it came out quite well, and the blotches were hidden. Hehe!

I can see the blotches on one of the houses in front of the balcony. Of course, I know where to look for them. Humph! Later in the day, I ordered some more batteries, along with some more toothache serum and treats for the nurses and carers.
I had another search of the computer to see if I could find the word list again, then had the brainwave that I had saved them to the SD card in error. But didn’t find them. However, I did find the missing photo of the other days’ meal. Carer Chris showed me how to access the memory in Kodak Tim. Yee-Ha!
I then started to cook the meal.
As you can see, mushrooms, potatoes, and I had some fun shelling the peas this time. I’ll likely be finding odd peas for the next week or so; I dropped that many. It’s amazing the skill they have finding any nook or cranny to disappear into, isn’t it?
I added liquid smoke and caramelised vinegar to the mushrooms. Later, I discovered I’d taken two photos without the SD card in; thanks to Chris, I can now retrieve them. It’s very late now, I’d get food served up, hoping to be back in the morning, and praying my not getting uprightness stops. It’s just not natural… but I am enjoying it at the moment.

CHANGE OF MOOD COMMENCES!
I went to prepare the fodder and took these Kodak Tim snaps of the view from the kitchen window. After I’d taken the photos, the return to ‘Inchy Normal Mode!’ started.
I dropped the camera, cursed as I bent down to retrieve Kodak Tim, and felt the blood running down inside of my left leg. At least it felt warm, so I knew I’d not died yet, Hehehe! Into the wet room and cleaned up Little Inchies fungal lesion bleed. Applied the Daktacort Cream, howled a mini second, and began the battle to get fresh PPs on. It didn’t go well, and this time I was well-pissed off about it! Which left Cartilage Chloe, no, right Cartilage Carole underneath the swollen disjointed knee cap to give way. I cursed silently, washed up and returned to the meal-making. It took so long that the potatoes that I’d taken out of the oven had gone almost cold. I whipped them into the microwave, got the other foods out, and drained ready peas, seasoned mushrooms, and vegan sausages. I got the potatoes out of the microwave at the optimum timing to make me drop one, which flew across the kitchen, leaving a trail of no-butter butter bits all over the floor. Via a short, sharp burst of a one-legged . I cleaned up the mess, by which time the potatoes had gone cold again. The cursing started, the self-loathing, and the feeling of guilt and uselessness returned. Back to square one!
Amazingly, I enjoyed this concoction.
After demolishing it all quickly, a pot of mandarins in jelly followed. I prefer the mandarin in orange juice, but I spilt it whenever I took the lid off or ate it.
I carefully took this Kodak Tim shot before getting the pots washed up. Carer Chris arrived. I gave him some of the jellies by way of thanking him.

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Climbing onto the donated old hospital air mattress bed, I slipped and banged my already contortedly positioned right knee. I wallowed in that pain and agony that resulted. I reaffirmed my alliance and sympathy with the victims of my incapabilities; , , and . Hoping this would ease some of the suffering being inflicted on me. It didn’t!
Back to my regular moaning, bellyaching, grumbling, grouchy, grousing, miserable, down-at-heel self again!

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Fare Thee All Well!

Inchy Today: Friday 19th July 2024: Injuries, Failures & Despair… Just another day!

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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday.
Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today.
However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg).
①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha!
② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem!
I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…

According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.

Off to the wet room Throne.

Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.

Rubbish sorted.

At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.

Carer Maryham arrived.
She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open.
Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.

After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.

An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them.
Humph!
I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions.
Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha!
I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table.
And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks.
Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink!
I’ll not get them again!

I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later.
On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable.
The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her.
Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems.
I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either!
As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call.
It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving.
It went like a dream! Not a single cut!
I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!

What next?
I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was!
The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good!
Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications.
Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me.
So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day!
I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!

I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.

It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life.
The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.

I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal.
Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter.
I enjoyed this.

Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!

Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement.
I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!

The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .

So, ending on a high point, Keep Safe. Cheers!

Incommoded Inchy: Tuesday 16th July 2024

This doesn’t bode well, does it?
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Good Morning Each!

I lost my District Nurse for the leg ulcer and Lymphorrhoea Leslie. Last call today. The wound has healed. Damn it! Another bright highlight is lost to the misery of my existence. The pain was worth it to get some company in the flat. Still, they will call to tend to the Catheter contraption every few weeks. So all is not lost company-wise.
I got an unexpected Iceland order today. I cannot recall making one at all. To make things worse, I’d just made one for Friday!
The ablutions again took me an age. Nearly three hours. Of course, after that, I forgot what I was doing and got terribly confused. When I returned to the computer, I proceeded to open the wrong blog and lost hours again before I realised I was working on an old one. Then, I made a mess of transferring it back to the original blog, and even more hours evaporated while trying to get it right again. I fear it may contain some errors, mistakes and cock-ups. I even made a mess of the Ode and had to touch it up… but now I find I’ve reposted the graphic with the mistakes still on it.
Condemnatory self-loathing combined with a frustration of mega-proportions followed. There is no doubt about it: & They are winning the battle to control my mind. They are increasing cock-ups daily and creating a feeling of pointlessness in life. Along with my financial bewilderment, my frustration grows deeper. The pointlessness I feel now is prompted by my inability to counter these at-the-moment problems and knowing they will only worsen. It’s the same with , & dying-off. It ain’t gonna get any better.
All this created a counter-opinion, and I feel shame complaining to myself. Obviously, (to me), I must deserve this misery. My past actions, maybe? I am just hoping that someone in the medical world reads this blog and can conjure up some compassion and help me to cope. Hahaha!
Enough of this self-pitying! At least, although a struggle time-wise, I can somehow produce the odd decent ode. Even if this blog is reduced to just an ode a day. Inevitable eventually, what with taking me three hours to get the ablutions done, and all the time spent correcting errors, the tumbles and stumbles, my camera using problems, my memory being unreliable, the catheter pains, Leg dances, my eyes fading, lack of hearing so bad I can’t hear the intercom, fire-alarm, door chime or water leak alarm. I’m guessing what people are saying. And the unwanted Dark-Dank-Depressions after each related incident, yet I still love doing this blog & ode. So, as long as I can, I will, even in cut-down form. I love reading other folks’ blogs and receiving and answering comments on mine. It’s my social life. And I do appreciate it. I can’t help it; I’m addicted! Now, where are my Codeines? Hehehe! Another minimalistic set of unreadable notes to refer to. It’s a good job that I took some Kodak Tim photographs to help me recall things. But it is now tomorrow, and my recollections needed some help. I’m getting things so mixed up lately. My concentration and eyesight are getting worse earlier each day.

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The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed, and the day pouch connected. At the same time, a little naughty, disapproving language was spoken to the painful . Which seemed to get them more irritated. Tsk!

I got the three waste bags made into one and placed it near the front door. I then had an
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I didn’t need to struggle to remember this incident! I hit my poor left foot’s toe as I turned around to return to the mini-hallway. Arrgh!
Even considering what was about the Cartilage girls and what was about to happen in the wetroom, this remains the single most painful experience of the day!

I hobbled to the kitchenette and took some non-prescription painkillers. Taking this photo of the view from the window. Still cursing for stubbing my toe!

I got on the computer to start the graphic for the ode of the day. To my Utter Dismay, the alignment options in the WordPress Gallery had a blank icon for the No Alignment choice box! Has anyone else gotten this new error from their WordPress? All is not lost. Pressing the blank rectangle still makes the graphic or photo non-alignment. Good innit? WordPress!

Five cube-shaped articles plonked into the WC. Followed by a short hailing of following up. I got the feeling that I had better not stand up yet. A good job, too! For a second wave from , heavier than his first, flowed… well splattered, freely. I think I was lucky here.

I cleaned and cleared up after the double-entendered evacuation. And did the teggies.
Then, the potentially dangerous job of shaving was tackled. Five bloody cuts, and a later by around ten minutes, I gave up trying to stop the flow of the red stuff on my cheek and nose. The Brut was not working this morning. This called for the strong stuff! I got the tube of cream that I used for Little Inchies Fungal lesions and dabbed some on the stubborn face cut. I’m so glad I didn’t jump any higher than I did, or else my head may have gone through the concrete ceiling into the above flats’ wet room! Well, it felt like it! I put a plaster with some Dettol on the ultra-tiny cut. Then I had another jump! Hehehe! But it did the trick for a while and stopped the flow.
Then, yet another farce: getting the fresh PPs on. It was all the same hassle and pain as yesterday’s attempt, but it took longer to get them on today. I’m not sure why, really. Silly me! Obviously (now I think of it), were hurting me far more today. It was another record length of time to get the job done.

I got back to my blogging duties, and the intercom sounded. It was a food order from Iceland. And did I make one only yesterday for next Friday? Indeed, there was an error somewhere. As I accepted the bags kindly dropped in the doorway for me by the driver, it was clear from the contents that this was indeed my order. The 2 extra large Lamb Shanks confirmed this. I got the things stored away, and what a job this was! After loading it up, I thought I heard the fridge creaking. Hehehe! I was pleased to see that I had some more pod peas in there, and they will be eaten up with a lamb shank & gravy, with some roast potato cubes!
Iceland had substituted some items again! Don’t think that this angered me, made me spit, or got me feeling all pissed off. Well… yeah, I did!
A few drops of rain when I eventually opened the curtains and took these belated morning shots of the view from the balcony.
The mudslide was somewhat intrusive this morning; well, it’s lunchtime now.

The Cartilage Girls continue to give me some pain. In fact, not that I’ve done a lot of hobbling about. Cartilage Chloe once and Cartilage Carole twice gave way on me. But thankfully, there have been no tumbles. I’ve been Tumble-Free all day up to now!

Carer Sam called belatedly. They are doing their best. Obviously, they have problems just as we do. No bother.

I launched myself most belatedly at the blog updating.

District Nurse Sarah (I think it was) came in to check over the burst ulcer from the burn and Diabetic Edema. She called for advice, and they agreed that this is as much as is needed with the diabetic bandaging. The ulcers on both of my ankles are leak-free now, but I’ll miss them calling on me.
I didn’t cry too much! Haha!

I started shelling the pod peas in preparation for the meal preparations. Quite a few of them got into the bowl, but many amazingly just jumped into my mouth. I can’t understand it.
These lamb shanks are easy to cook in the bag. I later dropped the peas in the water to cook.
On a low boil, they take only 30 minutes to cook this way.
I then sorted the potato cubes from the Asda bag from the freezer. Remove the ones with any black spots on them. Which was about 25% in total. And got them cooking on a tray in the oven.
After a while, Carer Sam arrived. Medicated me, and then I went to check on the now-burnt potatoes. I picked through them to remove the too-hard ones and those with the black spots I missed and got them in a dish to add later.
What a feast!
Thoroughly enjoyed it, apart from some of the burnt spuds being too hard for my shortage of teeth and the few remaining being in the sad, broken, painful state. It was almost, but not fully worth the pain afterwards from .

I had planned to get back on the blog, but fading eyesight and increasing tiredness forced me to stop everything and just sit down in itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.
I turned on the TV and just fell asleep. It was heaven!
Carer Chris came, and I cannot recall much of this visit. I think he… well, no, I don’t know.
Later, Christopher called for a late visit, and I still slept. I can recall him taking off the one sock I had on. In the morning, I found it crumpled up on the ottoman. He must have put the catheter night bag on for me.

I continued to sleep without any problems. Having the longest-ever kip for months! I suppose I needed it?
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Please try to be happy,
Content, surrounded by magnanimity,
Ousing with loveability & affinity,
Wallow in moving mutuality,
This sounds good to me!
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Keep Safe!
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Incontinent Inchy: Monday 15th July 2024

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04:25hrs: I begrudgingly heaved and hauled my overweight, blubbery body from the bed. I even thought of getting back in it as Cartilages Carole & Chloe kicked off the moment I put my colossal weight on the knees.
I bent to release the nocturnal catheter pouch. The bag was a little fuller this morning, considering I’d only been in bed for about four hours. Yesterday’s not being a happy laddie lingering into today. There I was, sitting on the Throne, having a go at the crossword puzzle book, just seeing if I get some answers to the many not-finished ones over the months. I
counted the cracks I could see on the ceiling. It amazes me how I seem to get a different number each time. And I suppose. 23 today. The first long, deep brown torpedo escaped painfully, followed immediately by splatterings from . The end loose evacuated product was once again of a Kharki hue, small and wet but lumpy. Well, it made a change for me. Haha!
The were tackled next. Starting with the hurtful, bleeding-again teggies. Then, the extremities needed cleaning in preparation for the medicationings. These were done before the shaving this morning. Another first for me is that I’ve always done the shaving first, but not today. I’ve no idea why. One good thing about having the diabetic socks and the compression bandaging on both legs is that I can’t clean them, so one job is saved. Also, I do not need to medicate the leg ulcers or ingrowing toenails.
Were Germoloided once things had dried from the washing of the bottie. I found that I’d run out of the anti-fungal cream for Little Inchies cream. So I tried some Germolene to see if that eased it a bit.
It didn’t help, but it didn’t make things any worse, either.
I got the Derma cream under the arms, man breasts and forehead, which was silly because I’d not done the shaving yet. Tsk!
Then moved on and gave a good rubbing in of the Phorpain gel to both knees. To ease the pain from , and . Next, I got the olive oiling done down both earholes. Had a bit of an then. I dropped the dropper bottle and lost even more time cleaning the mess I made up. But worse, all the bending to retrieve the olive oil from the mat and floor, set the Cartilage gals, Arthur Itis and off. I then performed a short but natty, nasty version of a , which made me wobble and joined the list of injuries. And I hadn’t even tackled the dangerous parts of shaving and getting dressed yet!
Still, being of excellent pain tolerance, a twerp, and so brave with it, it didn’t worry in the least, not one bit! But I assume you already knew that?
Then , the costly Cataract Blepharitis application process had to be done. The spray is no bother, but the drops I just can’t hold my hands steady enough to get it in right. Doing the pads is okay. Then, I waited for the regulation for 5 minutes and wiped it all off again from the eyelids. I would estimate the cost of liquid I missed the eye with that ran down into my mouth and onto my testicles from my chin, not to mention poor Little Inchie; it must have been about £10 worth every day I do this.
Now, the shaving needs to be done. I wondered how long I’d already spent doing the ablutions. I reckon I was already over two hours and still had to shave and dress.
The shaving was cutless! Yes! But getting the PPs on more than made up for my good luck with the shaving.
With either knee being liable to give way, my left leg is so painful to lift up.
Always a risk and or possibility.
On routine, I set about the tried, tested, but often failing ‘get-the-pants’. I wedged my rear end against the sink, with at hand, and of course,
the small Plastic Pickerupper Paul. I was gobsmacked at how easily I got my right foot in the pants. Might not be so bad, I thought to myself… What a plonker!
I all but went over when I first tried to lift the left leg up high enough to get the foot in the pants. On about my third attempt, I was getting frustrated, to say the least. Not necessarily because I couldn’t get the foot in; this is a regular problem, but with the pain I was going through trying to!
I tried one last time and was prepared that the pants would stay off if this did not work! Which, of course, is not on if Little Inchies fungal Lesion bleeds, as it often does, hence the PPs in the first place; it could be bloody and embarrassing if a Carer or nurse was here when it flowed down my legs, over the catheter bag and pouch, onto my foot and then the carpet!
There’s no other word for this; Lifting the leg with one hand holding the sink and the other with a picker-upperer and the walking stick was bloody painful! One final effort, a grimace, a few curses and both legs were in!
I was shattered! Aching all over. I felt like I’d been up for hours; in reality, it was about three hours of angst and pain, but at last, it was all over… until the morning, it’ll start over again!
Painkillers and some anti diarrhoea capsules were taken!
I actually chirped up a little later, Yes! Then again, I usually do if get on the computer, and even more so when the eyes are as clear as they can be, and I can see the keyboard and the letters. But at the back of my demented brain, I know that come midday, the double vision will return. (It did)

Carer Richard arrived minutes after I turned on the computer. I patiently waited for CorelDraw to load up —no, that’s another fib. Richard got the medications sorted out, but I forgot to ask him to take of the diabetic sock, so it will have to stay on until tonight when a Carer can take it off if I remember to ask him or her. I bet it reeks a bit!
I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bags into one. I left it near the door.
I returned to the computer and steadily progressed with the extra blog of old cartoons blog. Then, a sudden… well, fear came over me. Had I left the hot water tap running again? I hobbled hastily to check.
All was okay. After yesterday’s farcical, imbecilic three times of letting the tap run cold, my confidence was at a low ebb. I checked several times today, but up until now, I have not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. At least today, I got a wash and shave with hot water available. Despite spending nearly four hours in the wet room in agony, at least I got the cleaning and medicating done.
I had a mammoth, or maybe it was one of . Or perhaps I fell asleep on the computer? Up to now, I’ve only had two !

The sun did its best to get through today, but it couldn’t do it just like yesterday.
I took this shot through the kitchenette windows.
I made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I never got around to making one earlier.
I took the brew to my beloved but poorly computer and digested some of my favourite biscuits via a good dunking. Haha!
I like Yeo Valley organic milk and have tried it a few times. As instructed by the Doctor, I’m keeping within her demands that I have only two mugs of tea a day.

Arrived. A nice young gal. Showed concern at my wobbly walking. I explained the ablution episode and showed her a photo of yesterday’s burnt meal and saucepan. She did laugh!
I found some potatoes in the only saucepan I had left. Humph! They were well seasoned with sea salt, pungent soy sauce and a drop of vinegar to eat later.

Great balls of fire!
The bag tore off of the catheter pouch; it was so full!!! It had filled up so quickly.
It’s a darned good job that Carer Kara keeps a supply in stock for me.

Now I’ll have to pack up on the blogging. My vision is getting much worse.
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Back to finish off in the morning – I hope!

I’m back…
Carer Chris arrived. Tucked into the nibbles and drinkies, but he was in a rush, poor lad.
He turned down the heat on the oven. And I watched part of one episode of the old Heartbeat on the resistance to making a link, unwanted and needed, overpriced Virgin Media fibre TV.

I had a pastie, potatoes, and sliced fresh tomatoes for my meal of the day.
Followed by a naughty but nice Lemon and cream Bliss.

I took this late shot while washing the pots and settled to get some sleep. It took me hours to nod off, yet my body and mind were worn out.

Tired? Me? YES!

TTFN each. 🤔
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Implausable Inchy: Saturday 13th July 2024

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I’ll not mess about… Today started pretty well.
The Computer Froze. Somehow, I got it back on after the dreaded blue screen appeared. I pressed on with the blogging. The SD reader stopped working, and I spent hours not knowing what I was doing and getting so upset that Duodenal Donald kicked off for the first time in weeks! The Peptac was guzzled a lot after this started. It does no good, psychologically it may?

Then, both websites froze, including Google and Firefox.
I’d already lost hours on the first two disasters. I was lost on what to do with this one and thought it was the end.
I turned off the computer and then went back on again. I then got another dreaded MS blue screen. I was offered four options. But they may as well have been written in Outer Mongolian, from what I could glean or understand. Only the ‘Turn-Off Your Computer’ was decipherable. So I did. Really pissed off now. Even almost angry. I had a vision of me going into the fire at my cremation and waking up – such is my rotten, unbelievable luck.
I decided to get a wash and shower. Carer Chris came, and I got off track to give him his weekly treats for his son, as he’s off for two days. Medications, one diabetic sock on, and I bade him farewell and a good rest.
I went to the wet room for a good shave and shower, only to find that the hot water faucet had run cold! I remembered putting last night’s dishes in the sink to soak—then that, you know, sort of tightness of realisation in the stomach hit me en route to check to see if I’d left the hot tap running. I Had!
When Carer Joanne called, she didn’t look very well. But was kind enough to tell me some problems, with advice for me, with her Catheter, and I was having similar trouble. We were united in our sufferings. ♥
The JS order arrived, and the Low-Cost Food order arrived an hour or so later. The JS driver kindly put the things into boxes and bags for me, and bless her with cotton socks. ♥ Despite all the hassle of the day so far, I was pleased with some lemon wafer biscuits from the Low-Cost shop. And the adorable Vegan Maryland Cookies came from J Sainsbury. Now I have my three favourite nibbles to hand, and being depressed, lots of them were soon my tummy! I got a lot of bother from …serves me for being greedy.
Paracetamol & Codeines were taken. And no sooner, started electrocuting me. Bad enough, but she’s been at it now for eight hours on & off!
I got some peas shelled t have with the beef pie and potatoes later on. But was concerned about not getting the blog done. So, I ventured to the computer desk, smelling my unwashed B.O., as I prayed 🙏🏻 for the SD Card thingy to work and Google or Firefox to work again, and got the computer on.
Hallelujah! 👍 Or at least partly, the browser was working again, but the SD card reader wasn’t interested.
About four hours later, I tried another reader, but that did not work. So, I took out the leads one at a time and returned them. About the 11th, the lead was returned, and Bejesus, the reader, worked! Now it’s getting dark, I’m drained, and my eyes are getting worse. Just thought I’d mention it. I’ve been up for over 18 hours and still only just started this blog. I had to get the photos on CorelDraw to save them to file… and I know this sounds impossible – But CorelDraw Crashed!
Luckily, this costly, incompetent art package does a lot of crashing, so I can remember what and how to go through the salvation process several times a week. But it cost me the most valuable thing after my health and wealth loss: my precious time. And I’m not in a good mood now. However, I shall continue into the morning to get caught up. ,

Well, it is well past time to get summat to eat,
See you later… if I can wake up in the morning. Haha!

It is Sunday morning now, and I am still well behind with this blog, with a lot of catching up to do. But, first, I had difficulty forcing myself to get up. After a terrible night of broken sleep. On with the blogging photographs…

Dark again.

Beautiful tree copse and bottom field,

Treats packed up.

Waste bags sorted.

Say no more…

Later kitchen window view.

JS order arrived.
Got the stuff away.
Ready-made meals and fresh garden peas.

Low Cost Food order.

Thompson’s Punjana brew.

Hours & hours lost with MS Windows, computer and CorelDraw difficulties. Deep Dank, Dark Depressions!

Ah, a nice shot here.

I started shelling some pod peas to go in with the ready meal of Cottage pie.
Got on a slow boil-simmer.

Went to get the fodder served up.
The rain was back!

Baked potatoes are on the left of the tray, and gorgeously tasty Flora No-Butter, butter, and podded peas are added.
Cottage pie with some Hammonds sauce on top.
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We Need Peace

Peace to all, deserving or not…
Peace; Very little have we got,
Thanks to the Oligarchy lot,
Their fortune made is misbegot!
Peace? The chance is a longshot,
For peace, we can scheme and plot…
Putin prefers a riot…
But not amongst his own lot,
Anyone else is liable to get shot,
Peace is needed, but who gives a jot?
Find Peace? Humankind cannot!
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TTFN

Incandescent Inchy: Thursday 4th July 2024 Election Day, Expect a Massive Labour Victory

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My reception of perception and my gleaning grasp of reality can often depend on my success at freeing apprehension and the degree of the morning’s abjections; thus, how I’m coping with Doreen Dementia’s aberrations and complications. I didn’t do this very well this morning.
I stirred into ersatz semi-life and awaited the brain to catch me up. It took its time. I couldn’t guarantee that I had not snuffed it, was in a coma, seizure, mind-blank or was still asleep at first. Suddenly, whatever state of existence I was in didn’t matter or bother me much. Not when I painfully got the legs out of bed and trod on the fallen-on-the-floor bed movement controller. This made me jump a little, and I uttered a few oaths and naughty words. Then, I stubbed my ingrowing toenail against the bed leg, and , hit .

It felt like I’d been up and gone ten rounds with Mike Tyson, and I’d only been up for five minutes! Got the night pouch off. Back to a deep colour today.
Then I hobbled off to the wet room.
Trotsky Terence ruled the evacuation again. Then I started the ablutions: putting my eggs, feet, and left foot in a bowl of soapy water while I shaved. The bandages on the right foot. Does it mean I have to go with one foot stinking until the nurse arrives on Monday, or was it Tuesday? Then the medicalisationing needed to be done. I still can’t find the underarm cream. All the other areas’ usual ointmentating was done. Earholes were Olive Oiled, etc.

Carer Christopher arrived. He didn’t look or sound like his usual self. I asked him if things were okay, and he replied negatively. He’s not saying anything, but I’ll cheer him up later.

I got the bag of waste made up, and took it to the door for collection..
On with the blogging. It was a hard slog! Errors galore, and I’m sure I missed some corrections that needed to be made. Tsk!

Care Kara arrived—what a gem she is. She checked the catheter pouch for me, and Kara looked for the missing cream for the underarms but had no luck. Then, although embarrassing, she put some barrier cream on my testicle area for me. After the gal left, I’m sure I had a Mind-Blank or one of them. I’ll explain, but I am not sure of this.
I was working on the graphics on CorelDraw. I’m sure I’d just made a mistake on the Horoscope one and felt annoyed with myself. It felt like seconds later, I found myself in the wet room on the floor, half over the shower chair. Without the foggiest memory of tumbling or even going into the room! As I crawled on all fours, annoying the Cartilage girls, to the recliner to use to haul my ginormously bellied body back upright on my feet, I realised I had a headache, toothache, and a tiny scratch or bruise on my chin. After another battle to get upright, I took a Codeine. I shelled the pod peas for tonight or possibly the morning’s nosh. I’m so far behind again.

Here are cloud photos taken over the day.

I think I had another out-of-it episode as Carer Christopher left for his next call. This time, I clearly recall him helping me sort out water that had appeared in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I spotted it while getting a cold drink to cheer him up. But not much else, I’m afraid.

We’ve had no rain, so it was a bit of a surprise when I saw the mudslide at the end of the car park. Who knows?

I got distracted when I saw an article on FND while searching on Google.

PN vs. MS vs. FND

Neuropathy is often classified into four broad categories: Autonomic, proximal, focal, and peripheral. Peripheral Neuropathy is the most common, impacting 7 in 10 diabetics, amongst others. PN is often mistaken for another common illness, multiple sclerosis (MS). To better understand the distinction between those diseases: PN or Peripheral Neuropathy – Part of the reason it is not always easy to identify PN is simply how diverse the condition is. According to the National Institute of Neurological Disorders and Stroke (NINDS), there are more than 100 different types of Peripheral Neuropathy alone. However, the various strains of PN are all related, all involving some peripheral nervous system damage – meaning issues with the nerves outside the brain and spinal cord. Symptoms are often felt in the hands, feet, or lower legs. Numbness, pain, and other abnormal sensations are experienced as the peripheral nerves stop working correctly. Patients who have suffered for a long time with PN, mainly if it is advanced, may experience muscular weakness.
People with FND Functional Neurological Disorder and Neuropathic Diabetics often complain of difficulty moving. They may feel slowed down or find they cannot move part of their body or grip with a hand. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what I want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. Often complain of difficulty moving. They often complain that their limbs do not seem to do what they want. Some people may get extra involuntary movements such as twitches or tremors. I currently have Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Twitching-Neck-Nicolas, Peripheral Pete’s Right Leg Dances, Shaking Shaun, Stuttering Stephanie, & others.
Please read this, Doctor, Please!
I can safely say I have all of the above symptoms!

It is late now, so answering comments and viewing the WordPress Reader is better. Then, get something to eat.

Morning: Catch up on this blog.
A simple supper for a simple man. Just baked potatoes with no butter, butter and the last of the podded fresh peas.
A lemon and cream dessert to follow, ‘Lovely!’
I washed the pots and took this Kodak Tim shot of the almost awesome evening view from the kitchenette window.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off as I climbed into the bed. Sleep was not an option.
Not due to , nor as far as I could tell, . No specific reason at all, but I just could not nod off! After nearly two hours of failed sleep-searching, I got up. I sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner.

Even with my legs up on the chair, the ankle & leg electric shocks didn’t bother me. The right leg ulcer under the compression bandaging did, though. Yet, no electric shocks confused me. Watching the progressing election results on the TV, after an hour or so, burst into activity. And as I write this in the morning, she has not stopped. Bless Her!

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Labour wins the election, as you can see, mainly due to the Conservatives’ incompetency.

Farewell, Mon Ami!

Inchy: Sun 23 June 2024 A hazy start, & agonising end to the day! Not that the middle was owt to shout about!

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I couldn’t see one of them!
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I have never faced such difficulties in finding words to start an introduction for the blog before. In a way, I’ve been acting like Jeckle & Hyde and Steptoe & Son, struggling to communicate with myself. My moods were ever-changing, going into reverse modes and back again into sort of semi-contented ones. My fears would rise, and minutes later, nothing mattered. Then, I’d sink back into a self-pity mode again. It has to be a record for me today; I went into so many Mind-Blanks, or maybe they were what the doctor calls them, Non-Epilectic Seizures, I’ve ever had before. Accompanied by Memory blanks, some of them unbelievable, even to me. I had to keep checking what date it was; I forgot if a Carer had been or not. As for where the utilities needed were on CorelDraw, everything was taking me so long and still coming out wrongly. Even doing the graphics for this blog, I saved them all to different folders, and I spent hours trying to trace them, I ended up thinking it would be quicker to do them all again. Which was a big mistake; it wasn’t any quicker at all, the opposite, in fact! Up until around 19:00 hrs, the day seemed to reek of the absurd, bizarre, inexplicable, unexplainable, asinine, and undefinable. When I realised my cock-up with saving the files in the middle of trying to sort them out… CorelDraw Crashed! And all these farces to both legs being so painful, Cartilage Chloe in the left, and the ankle ulcer now pouring out liquid from when I dropped the oven tray on it, this was not a good day. After many trials and tribulations, I finally got around to doing my ablutions. Apart from not being able to stop the bleeding, shaving cuts (4). After completing the ablutions and medication duties, the only nasty bit was when I was trying to get the Protection Pants on. With both legs in a delicate situation, I lost my balance a few times and acquired some new bruises on the left leg, the cheek, and the right knuckles. But I didn’t go over; I hit the shower chair, door and sink instead.
Now, this does not explain how, but I got the dressing gown on and went back to the computer. I was at the stage of starting to write this intro. My mind was blank for a few minutes. Then it was as if I’d taken a wonder drug, and the mind seemed to clear. This (having read it now) I think it reads spot on as to what happened. Of course, things have been changing all day, so I hope to keep at it before the dark, dank depression develops. And another miracle, as of this time, the double vision had started earlier than this each day for a week or more, but not today. Not that I’m missing them… this may be a part of my sudden enlivenment? Or not. I do so wish the doctor would read my blog… maybe not, though. She might have me collected by the men in white coats. The only other thing that got to me was Kodak Tim blanks. I’ll explain this later in the blog. I don’t want to upset myself now I’m feeling better.
Huh, did I speak again! The bloody leg and have just started! And they are really giving the damaged ulcer what for! Big mouth! Really struggling to walk now, See what I mean? Up& Down!
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05:10hrs: I sprang awake. In need of the Porcelain Throne. Emptied the catheter pouch and off to the wet room. Where was I flabbergasted to see blood in the bag? Seconds later, it soon returned to a normal dark colour. This baffled me. I’ll keep my eye on it. If it happens again, I’ll not mess about this time; I’ll call for an ambulance.
There was no real problem with the evacuation, though. It was normal for Trotsky Terence. He’s back with a vengeance. Cleaning up took a while. Carer Maryham arrived and got me sorted out. Bless her. She was just finishing the extra shift she was called in for. I hope she can get some rest now after helping out. It’s been a blessing this week when she’s called.
I was committed to finishing yesterday’s blog and made an early start. I’ve explained my situation. Things just got more messy as the day went on. Carer Joanne did the midday call. I like her—she’s straight-natured and not pushy. We sure do have some good laughs with language. Hehehe!

It was well into the afternoon before I completed the Saturday blog. I posted it and emailed the links. Took this snap of the view on offer. Kodak worked!
After hours of preparing the graphics for today, I felt a little proud of how well I was doing, but then I found the mess I’d made when saving the files. I’d been working on a caveman graphic and was so glad this one wasn’t lost. I plan to do more on it and make a few changes.
The teatime Caregiver arrived. I don’t know his name unless it was Israel. The eyes were beginning to fade a stage and offer double vision. Ah, yes, it was Israel! He’s grown a moustache! I took a snap of him, and later on, it was on the SD card!
Then I took his BP. Resulting in: SYS 119-DIA 132-Pulse 69-Temp35.5°. A good one.
‘Give Me Sunshine’, and out came the sun!
Kodak Tim seemed to have gotten over his tiff for the moment. However, the snaps still have the blotches.
The sun was very high in the sky. (Where else would you expect to find it? Haha!)

One of the shaving cuts didn’t want to stop bleeding. I dolloped on some more of the Brute aftershave. It stung a bit, but it seems to have stopped now. At least I smelt a bit sweeter afterwards. Hehe!

Carer Richard arrived as I was about to sort the meal out. His back was playing up a bit. I put some drinks in the fridge for him in the morning, which was nice and cool for him.

Preparing the Meal…
I removed the dodgy Asda potato cubes, and got the few left into the oven.
Shelled the pod peas.
I watched some TV, football, I think. Well, it was on when I fell asleep, and another match was on when I woke up.
Luckily, I’d put the oven on too low a heat. So, nothing burnt.
Shortcrust pastry pastie. (Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hahaha!), fresh pod peas, tomatoes and baked potato
cubes. A Reet Treat!

I got the pots washed, and as I was doing so, I felt a warm, wet sensation in the lower regions; it was Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding.
I went to the wet room, washed, and applied the Daktarin. While there, I cleansed the skin and applied the new Barrier cream to the ginormously flabby, wobbly belly folds and underneath the armpits.
I then needed to utilise the WC. What a flipping change this time! Trotsky was losing his dominance. It’ll be interesting on the morning visit. I decided against taking any anti-diarrhorea capsules. But did give both of the Cartilages and Arthur Itis knees a good rub-in Of the Phorpain™ Gel. My rear end was blessedly washed and medicated with the soothing Germoloids™ ointment.

Back to the computer to save everything to date, then put it in sleep mode.

Before climbing into bed… Yes, it’s not easy, but once in and adjusted, Sweet Morpheus is usually satisfied. The nocturnal catheter pouch was positioned, and then the regular frustrating routine began: Did I turn the taps (faucets) off? And close the fridge door? Turn off the cooker? Close the windows? Leave the lights on? I hate it when this doubting comes! I had no choice but to struggle out of the bed, get upright, carry the night pouch, get the walking stick, and do a mini-tour checking everything was safe and sound.
Then, I struggled again to get into the bed! I reset the nocturnal catheter pouch, and as I settled again, I heard a noise from the kitchen – at least, I think it was from there. It must have been loud, else I would not have heard it!
: I found that the washing-up bowl I dried after using had slipped off of the trolley I’d left it on. Hitting some spring water bottles on the floor, which had rolled around the kitchenette floor, with one of them bursting open! Arghhh!
Naturally, to make more mess, it was only the bottle that was carbonated!
So, I ended up retrieving the bottles and bowl and mopping the floor while carrying the Nocturnal catheter pouch, and the walking stick, gave way while I was doing this! My language was extremely volatile.
It must have taken me two hours to get the kitchen back into a mock-acceptable state. My ingrowing toenails, knees, Harold’s Haemmorhoids, the ankle ulcer, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all hurting.

I did take this Kodak of the night view earlier but forgot to put it on. Sorry about that.

By the time I wearily got back to the bed; then I faced climbing into it again—I was tired out, frustrated, and in a self-hating mode. I decided not to attempt the bed again, and I was convinced something else was going to disturb me, I plopped my rhinoceros-like body into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
I’d left the small picker-upperer on the chair! I don’t need to tell you how painful it was or where it struck. On top of all the other ailments playing up after the workout in the kitchen. Once again, it was back to the medicine cabinet in the wet room. Cleaned the rear end up and applied some Daktacort this time.
Back into the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner.
Initially, prevented any thought of getting to sleep. This was probably due to the joy and ebullient nature that must have been in, after her success at making my life hell! Well, as miserable as she can.

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No. What’s different about her bum?
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Hasta la Vista!