Inchie: Saturday 11th April 2026

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was woken by Rib-Pains-Rupert, and this made me lie there worrying about whether I will get the Morphine tablets replaced, on the prescriptions. Knowing I only had two left put me in a not-good place mentally. These OxyContin are the first painkillers they gave me that countered the pain from the knee, back, shoulder and whatever it was in the rib cage that was giving me such sharp surges of pain this morning. Nothing would ease the pains before these. Definitely, they were working and easing the agony. I fear they will not be a regular pain medication, due to all the side effects. I can just cope so much better with these. I dread the thought of them taking them off me, after several days of inner joy at so much less pain to cope with. I can’t get through to the Doctor by email, get to the surgery, or use the telephone… When I tried, I had to go through the AI Robot’s questions and was told that they do not accept prescription inquiries over the phone. I would have waited to be put through, in hope of getting advice about the tablets, but the last time I was put through to a semi-human, Customer Activator or whatever the snob-bag is called, he cut me off when I was struggling to get my words out. Someone claimed that Herr Starmer is cutting their allowance for email and telephone usage? Can you imagine that the country’s biggest liar and Prime Minister, Herr Starmer, would, like I did on my last visit, leave me in a corridor for hours before seeing a Doctor? Then, after being moved to the City Hospital, I had to wait in a cold room for nine hours for a lift home. Sorry about that veering off the subject, but my ever-increasing hatred for back-hander-taking, farmer & pensioner-hating, ex-Barrister and Faux Prime Minister, Sir Keir Rodney Starmer, just got to me.

I forced myself out of bed, took off the nocturnal Catheter pouch, and went back to the front room. I then started worrying, will I ever get caught up with my blogging? (Answer, No!) But I had no time to blog, as Carer Mizra is taking me to Sherwood this afternoon for some shopping. I needed to make a list of things I needed to take with me so someone could help me put on my socks and clothes. I decided to get the cleaning up done first. Waste bins, pots to wash, and me to wash, etc.
I took a second shot, this time of the kitchen, and felt appreciation for Jenny’s help sorting out yesterday’s calamity, then went to take a shot of
the morning view… But, No! The batteries had run out, and I also noted that the kitchen clock battery had run out. I thought I’d better get the Health Checks done next.
Not only was this BP session the worst in many a month, but I tried to take the BP levels again later to see if it had come down… the 4 AA batteries in the sphygmomanometer had run flat. I wondered if this was really happening, or if I was in a seizure or dreaming and still in bed. Hehe! When it came to taking the temperature, yes, this really did happen: the battery in the ear thermometer had run out!

Carer Ejaz arrived and asked if he could use my internet number & code to top up his mobile. We could not find the details. Ejaz went through the Virgin folder, every sheet, and there were dozens of them. I searched through my reminder book, but without any luck. I asked him if he had a Helpline available; he tried that, and we were both over the moon when he got it done. I think, in our excitement, I jumped up to dance with him in celebration. Stupid idea. Now the ribs and right shoulder are kicking off again. Haha!

On his next call, I asked Ejaz to put the long Kaghoule, outside shoes on for me, to make things quicker when Carer Mizra came to take me shopping. He did a full-body check, barrier-cramming all areas in need, and there were a few. Phorpain gelled shoulder and back. Put some Germolene on my face and head injuries. Then changed my socks for me and foamed and sprayed under the toes as he put on new socks for me. 

I felt there was time to have a bash at the blog after all. Oh, Dearie me. Google and CorelDraw were both acting up again, and started asking me to sign in each time I used them. I gave up. Went on the first call of the day to the wet room. Oh, heck! I hope things don’t start while I’m out shopping… I dread the thought.
As the time approached for Mizra to arrive, I checked the list of things needed and added AA & AAA batteries. I forgot to take the dead battery from the ear thermometer with me. Hey-Ho!

I was taking out the SD Card from the Kodak-Tim-2  camera, and the card fell to bits. Huh, have to add one to the shopping list!

Mizra was pleased I’d got so much done already, so we could avoid missing the bus. He got my big coat on me, and we hurried, I was playing catch-up (all day as it happens), to the bus stop. I showed him a quicker route through Windwood and Winchester blocks,
We arrived at the bus shelter, and of course, I could not take any pictures until I’d bought the batteries. Mizra had left his bus pass in the flat, so I gave him the swipe and keys, and he nipped back to collect them. He was back in time to catch the bus.
The short bus ride down the hill to Mansfield Road was a bit painful, as I had to sit on a side-saddle seat with the walker. But this time I got off the bus without falling over. Hahaha! We hastened down to the computer shop. I bought a new reminder notepad.

The batteries and a new SD Card. 
Out and across the pedestrian crossing to Ozans Continental store. Where I bought: Lemon Wafers, some Croissants, pickled beetroots, brown tomatoes, one extra-large potato, chicken pieces, Sokolow sausages, Boze Okopcony Paskyck (Smoked Bacon), and cheese triangles. Snap taken, not by me, of Mansfield Road. Looking up the hill, after just leaving the food store.

Another at the Junction of Mansfield Road and Winchester Street Hill.
We walked up to the Co-op store to use the machine to get some money, so I could pay for the toenail cutter and Window cleaner. Then up to the top bus shelter, I’m chasing behind Mirza, cause I can’t walk as fast as him. When we reached the bus shelter, where I’d had a seizure and walked into the traffic, it made me a little nervous. With Mizra walking ahead to encourage me to speed up, it meant that if I did it again, this time a Carer would see me going into the traffic. Luckily, when I did do this a few months ago, I was pulled back before walking slowly and calmly in front of a bus. At this bus stop, I borrowed the camera to take a shot of the darkening clouds that caught my attention as I was sitting waiting for the 40 bus to arrive. 
As I was taking the picture, a bus pulled in. I may not have caught the clouds, but I caught the bus’s weird logo on the side of it. 🤗
Not to be defeated, I tried to get a snap of the clouds again. Not a bad effort considering the sudden darkness, which dissipated in a minute, and the sun returned brightly. We mounted the bus and were off on the way back up the fierce Winchester Street Hill. How I kept my bum on the tiny side-saddle seat was amazing. Haha!

Back to the flats, through the corridors to the lifts in the end Woodthorpe Court block. I was doing my best to keep up with Mizra, but got further behind, my chest wheezing now. I could see he was anxious to get to his next call on time. We got inside the cell… I mean flat,
Used Kodak 1 to take this shot of the computer desk and my ‘Cool’, clock, calendar thingamagig. Looking forward to getting Kodak-Tim-2 up and working again. Mizra asked if he could put the food away for me, but I said thanks for the offer, but I don’t want you to miss your bus to your next client. I have two nice men, Carers in Ejaz and Mizra. Both nice lads. I’ll mention anyone else.

I gave the razor a trial to see if it was still working after dropping it yesterday, and it ended up in four pieces. Carer Radhid had got it back together.
Opening the SD card’s box was a job, and I thought I heard something fall out of the casing. I was doing this over a drawer, but could see nothing in there. Mind you, it is a rubbish-filled drawer. Then I tried to get the SD card into the camera. A message showed each time I inserted it, and I had many goes at it: ‘Faulty Card’. Reformat it? Reformatting it will lose all the photos. Or turn off. I kept trying, without any luck. For so long, Carer Ejaz came on his next visit. I resigned myself to going to the Computer shop again next Saturday for guidance. Ejaz issued medications and did his report on his mobile. I had an epiphany of sorts. I recalled the noise of something dropping in the drawer when I opened the SD plastic thingy. I checked the card, and it seemed to have a wide gap in its lower end… Aha! Thought: something was brewing in my mind… and I then reclaimed a memory from years ago. I felt the old SDs needed a tiny one sticking in it; I was getting surer of this. When Ejaz had finished on his mobile, he came to have a look at the card and camera. So I went into the kitchen and had a deeper look in the drawer. I emptied out the things, and eventually found a miniature plastic sort of SD card in there. I returned to the Kodak-Tim-2, and sure enough, the mini card fitted into the bottom of the main one. Getting excited now! I inserted them and, low & behold, the SD card didn’t need formatting, and it worked! I wondered, surely it must be a few-year-old card that needs two pieces?Nevertheless, it worked ! I’d actually worked it out and mended a problem! On my own! I was feeling a smidge proud of myself.

Ejaz left, and I went to close the kitchenette drawer, and Nizra had put the food away anyway, bless him. So I searched around and took a photograph, just to show off, Hahaha! I couldn’t find the jar of beetroot, the large potato, or the Croissants, but I found Sokolow chicken sausages, Boze Okonkowy Paski (Smoked Bacon), and cheese triangles. I must get the lemon wafers and Ferraro-Rocher to Jenny & Frank tomorrow. A little late to bother them now. I took this snap earlier, but forgot to put it on. darkening clouds. But still beautiful to me.
I had the idea of looking in all the crannies on a glass-detecting plan. I’d done the far end, finding and bagging some, and I got the long picker-upperers into the kitchen. As I was bending down to get between the woodwork and the no-longer-working stove, I lost my balance. I didn’t go all the way over, but trod on my picker-upperer, and a section fell out. My own fault for bending, what a plonker I am!

Carer Mizra did the late call. He issued the painkillers, but no morphine tablets were left. I bet you, I’ll suffer in the morning. (I did too!) I was beginning to get tired from the rushed walking I’d done, and Fractured-Knee-Frank was kicking in. Mizra did not need to do the meal; I told him I’d got it all planned. He did spread some cheese & no-butter butter sarnies for me, before departing. Bless him. Bade him farewell and thanked him for today’s help. Then got an inspiration to get some Hoovering done.
I emptied the box and put the Hoover on the recliner… I’d gone again.

was back. (and boy was he in the morning, this was just the start of his mind-bending onslaught, Saturday morning was much worse). 
Compared to the morning’s episodes, this was nothing, but it seemed so at the time.
WEIRD! I seemed to have been transported, without any knowledge about it, eerie! To the wetroom, and I was sitting on the toilet with all my gear on. Finding a packet of crisps that had been burst open in my dressing gown pocket? But no crumbs on the wet room floor or my clothes? I genuinely struggled to grasp what was going on. I did not panic, although I was confused.

After a few minutes of trying and failing to know how or why, I was sitting here, as I gently stood up, there was no upsurge of agic reflux, so I don’t think I had a seizure. Then I saw that I’d taken three walking sticks into the wet room with me. Four-Pronged Walter & Willy, and Wooden Stick Stephan. How, why… 
Then I had a sense that I might have been wandering around and left a tap running or the stove on, so I returned two sticks to the main room and checked the kitchen. All looked fine. Then I hobbled along the mini hallway to the door, and all seemed the same. As I was on my way back… Unbelievable, the vacuum was there in the hallway on charge? 
I went to the bed where I thought I’d left it, all looked usual in the main room, apart from the computer, which had been turned off. Had I been hallucinating? I eventually became aware that I felt zonked out,  intoxicated. I still managed to make a meal; the bread that Mizra had spread for me was quite hard. Had I visited La-La Land again? No, I vaguely recall eating this, and also washing the dishes and cutlery this morning… then again, do I, or has my ever-running waffling mind convinced me of this?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Wednesday 14th May 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
First time in Parliament? Expect irregularities,
Want to accustomise? First, you should acclimatise…
Be the awarest, awesomest, & awfullest,
Knowing your foe’s weaknesses can only be wise,
Also, consider if you really do realise…
You need to know your foe’s atmospherics,
Beware the ethereal, but listen to their fallacies,
It’s essential to avoid verbal catch-22s,
Ignore the incompatibilities, self-contradictions,
Their abnormalities and ambiguities…
Lies, debasements, and talking contradictorily,
They use these cons daily, customarily,
Use reverse psychology on Keir’s bootlickers,
Digressions and deviancies are expectednesses!
<<<<>>>>
Protect yourself, avoid the moral shanghaier,
You can’t miss him, the PM, Keir Starmer,
To gain faith, become a backhander…
He likes Arsenal, cash and things ocular,
Look left, right, you’ll see a thimblerigger,
Starmer’s lies shoot out sort of spicular,
Just sit there looking nowhere in particular,
You’ll be surrounded by psychobabblers,
You’ll be increasing your cash in your coffers,
Your unchecked expenses for acupuncture…
Toilet rolls, lipstick, maybe garden furniture,
Computer… owt to increase your filthy lucre,
If, by chance, you got in under Labour,
Keir will let you catch hylomania!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –


Manky day.
6 stitches.
CorelDraw charged me £345 + VAT for the new version. Why can’t I get any help with these things?
I loaded CorelDraw—and it crashed! I can’t save or export anything. I took eight photographs and doctored them before discovering this wayward glitch. They are gone forever.

I wish I was.

Two phone calls from the surgery, but I only understood one of them.

The laundry room dryer was packed up. Joe, on his way, put them in a different dryer. He had to go down to collect them, and I took a tumble, bending down in the dryer and picking up socks. I think I dropped more socks than there were in the drying. I guess I’ve become an addicted sock-dropper?

 My leg growths were bleeding when I took an earlier tumble while sorting out the clothes not needed in the junk room.

Broken-hearted, what a bloody day!

I finally got some food at 22:00 hrs. I can’t use or publish any more graphics or photographs, but I have some old ones I might use. I’m fed up with the mangled, broken, toothache-ridden back teeth.

Lower than I’ve felt for years now.

More medical callers, and a food order tomorrow. But I’ll try my best to get CorelDraw working. Or, I’ll find time to sort out a ploy to get around the problem. Possibly a smidge of blind hope?

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchys Horrendous Wednesday 8th January 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A STAB AT STARMER?
He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised.
When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.

I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on.
Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe!
I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the .
So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony!
Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! 
Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers.

They were becoming a bit itchy, too.
As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.

No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead.
The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.

It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. 
Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!

I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.

Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;

First sighting as I put the kettle on.
Is it a fire or not…
No Fire Brigade response yet.
Still no brigade.
Is it looking worse?
No response.
It’s dying down a bit, I think.

Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.

I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99.
And blow me, the fire was smoking again.
I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there.
I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!

I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website.
Very regrettably, I clicked the link… 

ARGH!
I WAS HACKED!
The computer went to full screen and froze!

The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.

Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’

They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now!
Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! 
As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again!
Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?

I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.

Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.

It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did!
Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with.
I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope)
They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone.   
Then, they went above and beyond…
They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that.
Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. 
The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. 
I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back! 

It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.

It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!

It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before.
Maybe never any.

I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.

A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her.
Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.

Good Morning…
Late Carer came.

TTFN

Inchy: Saturday 4th January 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
No chance of my thoughts getting rejuvenation,
My original creation, lost in the brains reticulation,
I move on to something of no relation,
I fear that I’ve hosted retardation,
My thoughts bear little relation…
To the current topic, No reconceptualization,
FND & Dementia, both a rapscallion,
No medical understanding or ratification,
Sneezing, coughing, farting & ructation,
Common sense, logicality in retrogression,
Practicality and hope are past their rubicon…
Sanity & I are beyond reconciliation!
Acne, eczema, boil in my bellybutton,
Daily existence is now a botheration,
I’ve gone downhill since my confirmation,
Existence has become challenging, an aberration,
No peace, joy, company or coruscation,
I’ve lived my life in bourgeoisification,
My plans and designs became just a botheration,
– – – – – – – – – –
To the world, these are my last claims, declarations,
I claim to have more than most do of individuality,
You do that when your life’s been an abomination,
Life was good until my 60th birthday celebration,
I’d been thrown in the canal, but life was fun,
Then my life suffered, a massive bifurcation…
Had to have a major heart operation,
Went deaf, Cataract, a rear-passage operation…
Fell into a fishing pond when on vacation,
Made redundant, jobless, the humiliation,
Job hunting was a complete circumbilivagination…
Ending, failing, no one employing…
62-year-old Inchy, accused of shirking!
By the Department of Employment & working,
All I could get was a job in Security Guarding,
I shot twice, minimum pay, embarrassing!
Redundant again, by the Sawley Security,
This was the end of working for me,
A duodenal Ulcer lodged in my tummy,
Then diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy,
They made my testicles, Cancer-free,
Cognitive Impairment came to lodge with me,
Bladder Cancer diagnosed dauntingly,
Catheter Contraption was fitted for free,
Ever since, every day has been agony,
Then Dementia was discovered, then FND,
All getting worse, thankfully slowly…
The bowels passing, either solid or mushy,
Never normal… but that’s me to a tea!
I should be complaining vociferously…
Then Starmer gets in, tragically,
Oozing criminogenically: corruptively,
Lining his pockets with things for free…
I’ve lost the plot of this Ode… Sorry!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

A much better week!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I gave up after trying to get back to sleep for a long time. I was in the c1966, £300 second-hand charity shop-bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-Testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. A lousy night, the worst one for ages, and I was so tired, but Sweet Morpheus didn’t want me to rest. I must have nodded off dozens of times. It felt like each one was on for only minutes. Hey-Ho!

0430 hrs: I got my horrendously massively-bellied body out of the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. My first task was removing the attached nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag.

I must admit, I surprised myself as I started to hobble around with .
The balance was, as usual for that time of day, dodgy. But I noticed that my were much kinder to me this morning. I decided to take advantage and set to do a few jobs while I felt capable. I sorted all the waste bin liners into one big bin liner and put them near the door. I’ve only got one outer door, so it was easy to find. Hahaha! I am a fool. I started cleaning the kitchen tops but diverted to the wet room. As I was on my way, I thought something was wrong here; yesterday, Constipation Conrad was in complete control, and my innards warned me to move on to avoid earlier-than-planned leaks or evacuations. Good job that I did rush, too. It was milliseconds after I’d got seated that the tsunami started. It lasted for a good while. The cleaning up took a long time. I creamed and ointmentated the required areas of my anatomy… is that the right word? Half an hour later, all was done. I avoided putting on
the protective pants by foolishly not wearing fresh ones after washing. Why? I’ll tell you. The pain from the Catheter tube can be worse when putting the Tena ones on. Usually, especially when Trotsky Terence is active, there is a chance that I’d be caught out later on with involuntary escapages. Even if no one knows, I’ve often felt so embarrassed in this situation. Writing this prompted an iota of common sense. And I went to put some on. The agony of bending the knee caused me to lose balance, and I tore the pants. They are not cheap. I tried again, and more pain aided me to force the leg to go in. Unfortunately, I lost balance and hit my right knee against the Porcelain. Was not amused, and let me know. Suddenly, I lost my appetite for getting jobs done.

In a semi-sulk, I got the kettle on and took this photograph of the very early morning view on offer from the kitchenette window. There was no fog, a few clouds, and the winds had died down from yesterday. The outside temperature on the computer was showing Nottingham as 0.0ºc. Freezing?

As I started on the computer, I had a bout of phlegm coming up and sneezing. Within maybe a minute, they both stopped. There’ll be a reason for this. Then my nosh started to bleed and run into my mouth and onto my chin? I was busy soaking it up for about ten minutes before I stopped the main flow. The handle was handy as a kitchen roll holder near the computer chair. Cunning!

I checked the cupboard for snacks. The micro rice stood out, so I decided that would do. I seasoned it with water, added basil and BBW flavouring, and boiled the water. Then, I grabbed the packet – !
Would you like to guess the sell-by-date I found on the packet? Here are some loose clues for you: ⒈I threw the rice away. ⒉The date was when the UK Covid-19 vaccinations started. ⒊The four numbers of the year add up to 6, one being a nought. ⒋Three numbers are the same. ⒌These three rhyme with stew.
Go on, have a guess, just for a bit of fun!

Carer Chris issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on my legs and had a nibble and drinkie-poo. He” be back, he said. Haha! 
While Chris was here, I had several mini-seizures in a very short time. After I’d cleared my head, Chris said that I had them in the computer chair, and I was bumbling instead of talking and shaking on my right side, with my head down throughout. He was on the verge of calling 999 when I suddenly started talking usually, but I didn’t know I had been in the first place. Chris had to shoot of, and I felt different, but not poorly or anything like that. Just slightly confused. I thought. But the (about) next two hours disappeared.
Carer Joanne called for the midday visit & to see how I was. And I was normal. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be. 

I took a forgotten afternoon view through the inner glass door of the balcony. Then, I continued updating, checking over and correcting many mistakes in the latter part of the blog.

Carer Joanne came. Asking how I was, I said fine, thank you. Bless her ♥

Returned, but they were back to the regular sort. Some of them lasting just a minute or thereabouts. I know where I am with these. Well…

Darkness dawned. I took these snaps.
The lovely blue hue was back tonight.

I’m waiting now for the eveningCarer to arrive. Soon, I hope. Cause I’m getting hungry, but not enough to rescue that rice.
Hahaha!

I’ll do some work on this blog while waiting.

No good, I’ll have to make a meal!
Milk Roll bread bacon with sliced tomato sarnies.
Home-made pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes and onion, and pickled water chestnuts. I forgot to put the pickled beetroots on the plate. Tsk! A pot of pickled ketchup for dunking the sarnies it. And a lemon dessert.

After eating and washing up, Carer Chris arrived, and I sat down to see if there was any football in the box. He came early and was in a rush, which suited me. He didn’t skip or miss any medications, took my diabetic socks off, and put on the night catheter bag. However, in the morning, I discovered he had forgotten to retake the laundry and the waste bag. Otherwise, he’s been a good lad this week. Bless him.

The football was on the box, but not for an hour yet. I struggled to stay awake until it started. As usual, I drifted off into slumberland when the first adverts came on goggle-box. I woke up with a jump when the football programme screen credits started rolling as it finished. I seem to have a habit of doing this. Humph!

I turned off the TV and went back to Sweet Morpheus.
I kept waking up so often I got annoyed by it. However, each time, I got back to sleep quickly. When I woke again, I could see through the window that snow had fallen.

Zzz’s.
TTFN.