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Inchies True Tales of Woe
For Friday 13th March 2026
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More than a few to tell of in truth,
It was more horseshit than honeydew,
Computer problems, more than a few,
So many, I didn’t know what to do,
Lost all the work that I’d struggled to do,
I genuinely thought a stroke was due…
Panic alarm – sent a paramedic crew,
To the hospital? I didn’t want, no no, no…
I had to prevent this somehow,
Said I was feeling better, very slow,
Tried to show I had some go, gungho…
Readings taken, concern, a verbal shiatsu,
A long Q&A session & then powwow,
Medical history, they did review.
No hospital – my wish they did imbue,
I apologised for causing their perdue,
I ended up in the hospital again, and I didn’t want to,
They’d send me to a home, I foreknew!
So they let me stay in my flat, chateau,
Filled their online NHS surview,
Left a paper on what I should do,
The next day, I penned this little clerihew.
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0645hrs: Sensed out the ailments to be wary of as I lay in bed. I didn’t feel as hazy as I normally am, brainwise. But I knew my history of feeling smug always turns to a disaster of some kind, so I avoided going into a Smug-Mode. It didn’t help; the day turned out to be my worst one of the week! Grangnangles & Globspit!
I got the nocturnal Catheter pouch removed from the day bag. Went through the balance-checking routine, decided it was safe enough to cautiously hobble to the kitchenette to check on the taps, doors, and electrics, just in case I’d done it again and left doors open, the cooker on, or a tap running. All seemed clear. So, I took a snap of the view and got the kettle on. The snap I
took later escaped into the ether from the camera’s SD card. I went onto the balcony to take a shot of the flats’ end car park. I got the idea that we may have had a drop of rain overnight. I might be wrong.
Hehe! Well, what a change. I missed the agony that Constipation Konrad would have given me, but of course, it was a pleasure to miss it. But I’m glad I got extra toilet rolls in, because of Trotsky Terence’s evacuations.
I made a strong brew of Glengettie tea as Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Socks taken off, foamed and creamed the toes and ankle. Fresh socks back on. Phorpain gelled the back and the right Shoulder.
Made a list of calls needing to be made on Monday. Doctors, ask for a stronger pain gel and Catheter supplies. The lady from the falls team will confirm the date. If I remember, I’ll ask him to do that one tomorrow.
Then it started! The computer froze up, leaving me with no option but to unplug it and see what happens when I reboot.
A most disconcerting action to have to take.
I’d had to leave it there to empty my overfull Catheter bag. Then empty, wash & refresh the jug.
When I returned, it was back online, but not letting me type anything in Google, Excel, Word, or CorelDraw actions that required text input.
Meaning I could not access any help tips online.
So, boldly, I was able to close it down with the mousse. I decided to wait half an hour or so before rebooting the computer.
During which the food delivery arrived. Coffee for Nurses and Jenny & Frank.
Cordial to flavour the spring water. Soft Milk- Roll sliced bread, cheese spread, Spring water, and soda water. And a variety of lemon desserts. I also got some seaweed.
I got it stored away and went back to the computer. I can’t deny it, with a little dread. Restarted it, and was able to type again. So, I knew the cause could not have been via the keyboard, but I had no idea if I’d caught a wrong combination of keys, as shaking often comes on when I’m typing. Or serving up a meal, or handling anything and dropping it, or cannot let go of it, shaving, cleaning my few remaining teeth, or at any time.
When it worked again, I refused to feel a Smug-Mode. The first thing I did was research my problem on Google. Then copy the pages and save them for if (when) it happens again.
It was as if I knew what would happen around a couple of hours later, after I’d restarted and after much work had been done.
As clear as mud to me.
As expected, I did the same thing, so I consulted the saved advice as above. Another age lost trying to work out what I could gain from the advice given. Not a lot. No choice but to turn it all off and try again. So, I did.
And it worked again… but after a few minutes…
Now I was baffled again as to what to do.
And getting very annoyed and depressed, the self-loathing over my incompetence flowed.
Years ago, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye and sorted it – well, that’s what I thought, which made my mood deteriorate further, and my temper boil.
I think this overwroughtness caused what then happened later.
I turned everything off and back on, and it seemed to be working again. But I wasn’t…
I had what nowadays seemed a natural seizure, but I don’t think it was. As I came out-of-it, the acidity upflux was not there – replaced by a super lack of balance and dizzier than I have ever been.
Well, apart from when I had the stroke. Which made me think, in all honesty, that I was having another stroke. That is why I pressed the Alert Button.
I was finding it very hard to mouth words. I could make noises, but words were at random. Difficult for the lady in the control room. Who stayed with me on the line until the paramedics arrived. Thank You!
I have no memory of the first few minutes. As I came
out of whatever had gripped me, I saw two paramedics and had a heart thingy on my arm.
Q&A’s, checks and I was talking, but stutteringly and repeatedly, I think. My cogniscence improved so quickly that I kept apologising for pressing the alarm, and wasting their time… I think. I was certainly thinking I ought to.
I have little remembrance of Carer Ejaz’s visit at all.
I think someone called on the phone, but I don’t know who, if anyone did, or what it was about. Yet I’m sure I was feeling a lot better, and getting my
soup meal made when Ejaz came. I think.
It was not such a good effort. But it was tasty enough; the problem was that I put in the vegetarian bacon bits as Ejaz arrived. So by the time I got the meal in the oven, ten minutes was enough to make the ‘bacon bits’ go all soggy. I ate it, though.
As recommended by Ejaz, I deserted the computer and got my head down early. Taking this snap of the night as I washed the pots. The bed seemed so welcoming and comfortable tonight. Zzz!
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HAVE A GREAT DAY
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The soggy, yet lumpy H-bomb shapes that were evacuated consisted of four bombs, each one breaking up on contact with the water. I don’t suppose you needed to know that. But with me having a regular, almost daily, different class of evacuation material, it is a curiosity to me. The Doctor is interested in this. She’s not concerned about my Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete, Sandra’s Seizures, Fractured-Knee-Frank, Lymphorrea- Leslie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Back-Pain-Brenda, Cararact-Katie, Mechanical-Aorta-Alfred, Little-Inchys- Fungal Lesion, Harolds-Haemorrhoids-Bleeding, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, Diabetes-David, Cartilage- Chloe, Colin-Cramps, Glaucoma-Gladys, or about Ingrowing toenail Unguis-Incarnate-Iris.
I took some kitchenette window snaps. The first one to the right, where tha rising sunshine from the back of the flats had not reached yet.

You can tell with my mental problems, I pray I’ll never need to try these. Some look easy, but most of them leave a brain haze & fog in an instant.
More space in the balcony now that Jenny
Work was lost when the computer went down. Sob!
Biscoff bickies, hard, but I can manage them when they have been dunked in a mug of strong Glengettie or Cooperative 99 tea. Soft mini-roll cakes, Polish chicken sausages. Cheesey nibbles, Ketchup, & potato soup. Mouthwash, hot dogs, grapefruit drink, seaweed crispies, no-butter butter, and soft goats cheese.
Teatime photo
A poor photo of the potato & onion soup.
The first two still looked a little artistic.
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I took some morning view photographs. I chose the ‘through window’ option. But forgot to take the flash off. Hence, some interesting artistic shots capture the reflection of the inside of the kitchen interior. Haha!
state. I pressed on and got the night Catheter bag off, and went to make a brew, but diverted to the Porcelain Throne. Not watery as it has been, but soft, gooey and sticky, and all over on one long fill-the-bowl session.
I took some more morning views. Without the flash this time. Oh, dear, another cock-up! I’ve put the same photo on twice and deleted the other to save space.
again. Jenny put a plaster on my hand, bless her. Knocked a little bit of the scab off. Along with the new back pain, poor Jenny was coming up to meet Ejaz, and he hadn’t come or answered when she phoned him, likely with a client.
The days were late to light up, but it soon became sunnier at times. And Jenny and I had a little chinwag. She is such an understanding Angel. I’d be lost without her advice and help. 🌷🎀💟 Jenny asked me to ask Ejaz to phone her when he arrives to arrange another meeting, about setting up her old mobile phone she is gifting me, with Ejaz.
I got the computer back on without any hassle and checked whether I had used the snap of the clouds on the left in yesterday’s blog. I had! But being a pareidolias delight, I thought I’d put on bigger anyway. I can see a face with eyes, nose & mouth. And a rocket of some kind is launching. What can you see?
I knew and know that situations like this are being imposed on the proletariat, the elderly and the mentally disturbed… on anyone gullible and powerless to resist, every day. 
Mash with cheese, garden peas, tomatoes and wholemeal rolls. 
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Today was bad enough, gut-wrenching, piteous, and wretched. By the time I got around to starting this blog on Saturday morning, up until about 03:00hrs, hope had returned, and it seemed I was at last going to make some progress with it. But No!
Finally got to bed.
Waking up views…
Ejaz rushed to clean, dry, and medicate my feet and ankles. There was no b




No doubt about it, no question.
End car park, it looks a
Sheer frustration made me take this shot.
I turned on the TV to watch some Heartbeat.
A snap here, of my right leg.
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Late morning, mist lingering late today.
This is a log of Goat’s cheese, delivered tonight, and I could not recall ordering anything at all.
Evening view.
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I managed to make a cock-up with the follow-on Poo-test. I thought I’d taken the envelope and swab thingy into the wet room with me. Constipation Conrad was in full control today. I made three attempts to force things along, but on the second fail, I could not find the swab pot thingy. I searched all over, but failed to find it. All these worries add up. affecting my outlook and mood. Just when I had cause to cheer up, something went wrong again. Like me, leaving the hot water tap running to go cold, AGAIN. Luckily, after I’d washed and shaved. I was washing the socks when the nurse arrived. Broke my concentration; it takes very little to do that nowadays. Humph!
Nurse Rebecca arrived. Nice to see her again. 
No butter-buttered bread with cheese spread.
Not very good, the best I could do.
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ch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning.
took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
en me do it.
I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.
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As I was collecting the bins to sort into one bag, boy, did
nipped to the wet room Porcelain Throne. Aha, Constipation Konrad was losing his dominance at last. No bleeding either. I considered using the new razor, but in the end, didn’t have a shave. I’ll wait until Ejaz can find time and make sure I don’t break the razor of cut myself. He knows the quirks of this model and ordered it for me last week.
I got the kettle on around 0730hrs and took three photographs of the morning view on offer from the kitchenette window.
on the viewer screen after each take. Back to the computer to load them into CorelDraw.
The intercom rang, and a JS delivery arrived. And I was dead certain that I’d ordered this for next Tuesday, positive, sure, confident I had. It seems I
hadn’t. Still, I got some daffodils for Jenny.
be today’s repetitive items. (I think). I still can’t believe I’d done it again…
ordering and remembering problems. That was last November. I anticipate help will arrive any moment now.
Shelled Kenyan garden peas, & shredded Leicester
Then, what Herr Starmer said about his destruction of the NHS, England in 2026…



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Sister Jane & hubby Pete, many, many years ago.
Seen here checking over my retirement pension details in the kitchen. Hehe! The runt of the litter, very small, delicate, beautiful, friendly, and curious, so curious.
Here is Inchie, with Mr Foooey, Foooey to his fans. The poor thing was nearly blind, deaf and arthritic.


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Sister Jane, seen here, clipping Fooeys ever-growing tufts.
End of my visit, handing Mr Fooey back to Jane.
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Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, Errors, Dark, Dank Depression Darius,
kitchen, I saw that the tap was not running. I looked up at the ceiling for signs of incoming water, but there were none. Then the smell hit me, and I felt giddy. I realised then that it was bleach. I looked at where I’d left the 5-litre container of thick bleach, seeing it on the floor, burst open. I thought casually as I recalled then, ‘Well, that’s me in the shit – Again!’
Back to the kitchen and spread some more paper towels to help soak up some of the bleach, left it for a few minutes, then went back to gather what I could into waste bags.
r from the sink to the bucket. The smell got to me again, and I kept feeling a bit giddy. I did this six times in all. I had opened the windows. This snap on the right was how it looked on the fifth attempt. I was in a lot of pain by then. Back, shoulder and a new bruise on my head. As I collected the last of what I could, I had to leave the areas between the cupboards,
the stove, and the fridge; it was just too painful to get down that far.
agoule, all waste-shutting with a few words RIP style proffered as I sent them 12 stories down in the chute, to the big bins below.
r myself, maybe. There was certainly an inkling of self-sympathy lurking in my mind.
cked off at the same time.
Ejaz took a snap of the little bruise on my head for his records at ICC. Then he made some instant mash, cheese with ketchup and sausage for my meal. Not wanting me to get up from the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. He even suggested I don’t move into the bed, rather stay where I am, the effort of climbing into bed he feared would set off the othe
r ailments.
his efforts?