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WEDNESDAY 29th JULY 2026
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06:10hrs: As I stirred this morning, EQ-Inchy was warning me that I would regret getting up today.
Astoundingly, he was right, once again! Worra Rotten Day!
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I’m not going to record everything; it’d take too long; I can’t remember everything anyway. The first thing I realised was the absence of calls to the Porcelain Throne. 
Nine hours later now, and still no evacuation. Mind you. I did eat all of the meal and a half that I ate just before getting settled. I’ve put the photo on again.
An absolute feast it was. Raw fresh garden peas, potato-curls, and a packet of bacon-bits in the six thick slices of sourdough bread, with Teriyaki sauce. And two yellow tomatoes. May I have mayhap eaten too much and blocked the innards up? Hehe!
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I mosied, well, hobbled into the kitchen to make a brew of Glengettie tea; remembering I smashed a precious mug the other day, and taking extra care with this one.
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I reached up to get the tea, knocking a Thompson’s tea cabby out with the Glengettie one, which lost its lid as it bounced via the kettle, radiator, fridge and rolled in a circle as it hit the floor; scattering the black tea 
bags en route. As I finished collecting the tea bags with the pickerupper, to be sorted and save the unbroken ones to use again, the landline chirrupped.
I picked up the receiver, said, ‘Good morning’, and a strained female said something along the lines of: “Wot time do yer call that gerrome?” Silence fell for a few seconds followed by, “Oh. I am a C_ _ _! I’ve rang the wrong number, ain’t I?” Then the dialling tone returned. I was sniling to myself as I tripped over the laundry bag. And fortunately fell to the right, and leaned into the bed. Thus saving a possible trip to the hospital. Which is so bad these last few visits.
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Chronically depressed about the things that happened today. Can’t pull myself of of it.
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Although Matron calling usually picks me up, well, it did, but it didn’t last long once she’d gone. All did was tell her of my woes. Bless her.
Depressed like never before.
The Red Cross engineer who called as well, to service & check on the bed, was a grand chap. He told me to ring my quack and ask to be referred to an O.T. I think I have been, but am not sure.
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Still not paid a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
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Higher due to Matron visiting,
The helpful RC man,
and Jenny’s email.
It’s not me today; I’m so depressed.
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Thursday morning, catch-up. Feeling a slight bit less down; a sense of acceptance of failures is easier than fighting a losing, unwinnable battle.
The first incident, accident, or failure will, of course, bring out my frustrated temper with myself of late.
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19:00: Meal of the day.
Soup & last of the sourdough bread,
TASTE RATING: 5.2/10
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Didn’t even get a peep-in today.
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All the best, oh, the UK has now got blazing trees on the South Coast. Expect more, we’re told on the news.
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Sussex Fire
Isle Of Man…
Isle Of Man, second one
Isle Of Man…,
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Dark Dank Deep Depressing Darius
Inchie Today: Wednesday 17th June 2026 – Teriible start ot the day!
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MUST BE THE WORST DAY EVER – UP TO NOW
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LOUSY NIGHT – CRUEL MORNING
Managed a few moments of sleep, kept waking up in a right peed off mood. Just needed sleep, but the demons and evilf-fieindly bad-luck-bringing thoughts of my own concoction seemed unbeatable today.
Rising from the bed and hobbling my way to the nocturnal Catheter pouch on the floor near the recliner, my right leg gave way, and once again, as yesterday, I was fortunate enough to lean towards the chair to land semi-softly and injury-free.
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I was still sitting in it, and trying to nod off again, as the intercom chined out its “Oh, Susana” tune. The knee gave way as soon as I stood up, and by the time I’d got to the panel to admit the Carer, it had closed down. I waited a few minutes to see if they had been admitted or would ring back, then returned to the recliner, expecting the Carer to come in. “Oh, Susana”, rang out again. This time, I got to the box a bit quicker and in time to let them in.
Carer Mizra appeared, did a body check, and creamed or gelled the areas in need. Shoulder, back and genitals. Then Mizra got the medications issued.
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I was pleased with how the new computer was working. When first opened, both external drives were accessible! But, of course, within a few minutes, they had disappeared. Back to normal, then. The hour-and-a-half Carer visit didn’t happen, the same as yesterday.
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1) The computer, specifically CorelDraw, froze as I clicked export for the Cartoon to go to the file to use here.
2) I could not close down by the regular route. So had no choice but to turn off at the power sockets.
3) But I could not get the computer to reboot.
Nothing but trouble since paying £850 plus fitting to get this computer, and I could not find his telephone number!
But knew that Mizra had it, as he liaises for me.
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4) Carer Andrew made the short midday call. I asked him to ring Mizra and ask him to call the engineer. No reply, so I don’t know if he did.
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5) While he was here, I tried a couple of times to get the computer back on, but both attempts failed.
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6) I found the Carer lying in the hallway on his mobile.
I thought he’d gone. I asked him again to contact Mizra for me. No response.
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7) I did get the loading to go as far as the opening label screen, but this one usually comes up first… so it was not a surprise when the ‘Working Circle’ appeared and the mouse arrow showed on the screen. It stayed like this for over an hour! Demoralising!
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8) I turned everything off at the power again and lost the TV signal in doing so, and heard a series of Beeps coming from the hard drive.
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9) All off again. TV was not affected this time.
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10) This had to be my last try. I was so downhearted.
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11) Then, I got a telephone call from a something navigator, from the Doctors Surgery. She mentioned a meeting with advisers I’d been invited to via email. There was a vague memory, but nothing certain. The lady explained it was about sorting people’s needs out, and the best way to do so. I jumped at the chance. I think she said someone would be calling to arrange a meeting.
Linda, I think her name was. I mentioned my wish, if possible, to go into a home. In hopes of relieving the tensions from getting nothing sorted, with problems being added almost daily, which challenges my sanity, health, and my ability to cope.
12) Today is a good example. The early tumbles. The computer is playing up yet again. No hot water. 4 weeks since my last shower or shopping assistance. Adding to the Banking, British Gas, Virgin Media, the new Catheter’s lack of information or instructions. No help was given with managing procedurally.
13) Do I carry on with a weekly day-bag change? Is it safe to use with a nocturnal pouch fitted?
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14) Not that I could put photos on the blog, anyway, both camers are broken!
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14) Now, my prime love/hatred, the new computer, cannot access CorelDraw or Excel. So, there are no graphics or photographs that can be used. Other than any already in the WordPress gallery.
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15) I rang the District nurses for help on how to manage the new Catheter, who told me to contact the QMC. I went on a little about the situation I am in.
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I then rang Jenny, who rang back. But I was not really with it t the time, in fact, I had a nasty seizure after making the call, mind blank. Extra confusion.
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16) I received a call back from the nurses while still a little out-of-it. I was asked if I am really interested in going into a home. I think I took this opportunity to get my thoughts out, and they will ask Matron Jackie to see if she can get the ball rolling. Brilliant. Cause things are getting worse here now. Problems increasing, solutions decreasing.
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Movements from the rear end started again today, all in Constipation Conrad mode. A bit of blood each time from the haemorrhoids. At least no accidental evacuations with Conrad.
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I’ll have to do only the Ode. Oh, it’s been such a busy, annoying day; I’ve not done it yet.
I suspect this blog holds ampullosity?
Changing moods bring ambivalency,
Spent most of the day crestfallenly,
Spent many sessions self-critically,
Problems showing no curability,
Concentration, showing a deficiency,
Hopes, needs, logic, all seem to disagree,
Depression increases, diurnally…
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Is life, like a politician, an effigy?
Not realistic, no ecclesiology?
What happened to youth’s excitability?
80, first time owing for your electricity?
Into the mist, goes you equilibrity,
No more mental or physical euphony…
I used to hope for an epiphany…
But life now proves more euphuistically,
I also dreamt of finding eudaemony…
I got this depressing ennui!
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It was once suggested by Dr Neurology,
To help me electroencephalographically,
But that was in September, 2003,
Then a stroke, TBI, and Cancer hit me,
Dr Neurolgy again saw me in 2023,
Sometimes I can think with clarity…
I hasten to add, this happens rarely,
Then my mind goes wanderingly,
Mind blanks can hit anytime, lastingly…
or for a few moments, mysteriously,
Moments too, of great falability,
Frequent occasions of mental obliquity,
With unstoppable times of neurotomy,
Hoyrly changes to me nimiety,
Dementia turned me flibbertigibbety,
Duodenal ulcer, hernia, verbal nugacity,
But can I face the nitty-gritty?
The crux of the problematic matter?
Slowly but surely going détraquée!
I’m now an ace at dontopedalogy,
Few teeth left, crinkled skin, pilgarlicky…
Had enough of life’s woes & mallarky,
Being as I don’t want to sound sarky…
To avoid moaning and negativity,
I blame it on my pfropfschizophrenie!
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Lack of control, of happenings & events,
My ever-changing consciousness,
From unawareness to utter cluelessness.
People I talk to will see/hear a difference…
No in-between, Depression or High Horace,
Decisions to be made, I’m on the fence,
Knowing danger, what’s my response?
Forget; as it dies in my memory disperses,
Involuntarily, to my memory burners,
Lack of control, of happenings & events.
Make life a struggle, that’s so intense…
Worries, problems, Catheter, fears…
Self-hatred, incapable, many mental fratches,
Solutionless, can’t batten down any hatches,
I hate my changing moods & responses,
Often say things I find erroneous,
Mostly to myself, & of course Darius,
Important dates, numbers, emails…
Texts, etc., that no one can solve,
Fade away, making me feel injudicious,
I used to think that life was so precious,
Now it’s approaching worthless,
New computer, camera, faith, & hopes,
All kaput, I feel so inefficacious,
Really, my outlook is hopeless…
I hate my changing moods & responses.
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I’m Struggling!
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TTFN
Inchie Today: Up to Friday12th June 2026. A revealing Ode…
During my absence from my beloved blogging, I’ve had another stay in hospital and two visits to A&E. I’ll not mention the Catheter Contraption farce here, or the unbelievable changes made to the medical, or the list of reactionary procedures implemented on the last occasion. In the event of the Catheter bag blocking again. (Five times this week! Classed as a Medical Emergency – You’ll love what I’ve been told to do when it blocks again and each time following.) The Ode I hope to write later will, well, might reveal it all.
Might reveal it all? Why the might? I’ll tell yers…
The engineer returned to look at the non-working, brand-new computer he sold me and performed whatever steps were necessary. Assured me that the comp-F’ing-uter can now access all three of the hard drives, and CorelDraw is working again. Knowing the past record of visits, I did not allow a flutter of belief or even possible joy.
How right I was not to!
The next morning, it took me four tries to start the computer. This told me that access to the required files could not be made. Have they been moved? Deleted? Make sure that (this was all computer jargon from here on; all I knew was that it was in the same crippled state as before the visit). Also, CorelDraw had blacked out all the options again; Save, Import, Export, and could not access the hard drives anyway.
As I mentioned in my last blog, ages ago, both cameras are kaput, so even the pleasure of taking sky shots with them means nothing; I couldn’t get them on the computer anyway. Over my enforced holiday break (Huh!), apart from the Catheter agonies and time spent failing to get the tube back in, I reckon that, counting the hospital ones, I must have had various medics grabbing, bruising, making the lesions bleed, 19 failed attempts to get the Catheter tube back in! The agony needs a stronger word.
At least I’ve managed by asking the Carers, emailing the Doctor and phoning the Community Nurses, to get some more of the precious-to-me Oxycodone painkillers. I only take them when needed; they are very strong with so many risky side effects, page after page.
Now, computer permitting, I shall open my own-made rhyming word on a notebook, and start this rare Ode…
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Each time I woke…
I took him to bed with me,
Now he’s part of the family,
I write this Friday, at 03:33,
Who needs help, domestically?
Who needs help, physically?
Who needs help, mentally?
A man who frustratedly…
It happens to be me…
Who had a thought, suicidally,
Will I act? Determined, bravely?
Eyes that get worse visually,
An occupied mind, that distressingly…
slowly denying me accessibility,
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ODE TO MY LAST HOSPITAL VISIT
I awoke to find myself with new pains in the right knee,
Walking into things regularly, so absentmindedly,
Mind confused, my body unsteady, & wobbly
Care Ejaz came, my Catheter was empty…
I guzzled water, too much admittedly,
Soon, the pain turned into absolute agony,
I took an Oxycodone & Codeine, medically
I rang the District Nurses immediately,
An Angel came to change the Catheter…
3 tries at inserting the tube, all a failure,
I felt I needed another Beta-Blocker,
Nurse left, another came hither…
3-failures to get the tube in my tallywhacker,
Get a taxi to the QMC, go to the A&E,
I got the number from my Angel Jenny,
Jenny rang, it’ll be here shortly,,,
Difficult to get hurriedly ready,
No Carer to help me, do you see?
No shoes, no socks, I remembered the money,
£15 each way, should cope adequately,
Took kitchen towels and remembered the key,
Carer came, took me down for the taxi,
Nice car, legs not squashed, from DG,
I augured a problem was coming to me…
A young, pleasant man, the driver…
To the ring-road – where we met the bother!
Road repairs, traffic unmoving, frustrating,
The ring-road was full, nothing was moving…
Traffic lights were out, and I was fuming,
And the Fare costs were increasing!
Still, we had time for chat & blather,
I just hoped I’d not burst my bladder,
Eventually, we arrived at the hospital,
Cost £25.40, No cash left for a taxi returning!
Through the doors, the scene was awful,
The smell of booze, bad language… dispicable,
Usually I try to be amiable and amicable,
Some patients, gloomy-looking and scowling,
Others muttering, spitting and swearing,
Low spirits & morosness were almost illuminating,
To the reception, answered the questioning,
Told to sit down, so I started waiting…
Someone will call my name, hopefully…
The scene oozed thoughts apocalyptically,
Flapdoodle is being spoken, almost angrily,
Someone shouted Gerald Chambers. Ah, that’s me!
I had trouble getting there, cause of my knee,
The lady who called acted patiently…
Took my vitals, told me to sit to wait to be taken away,
I hoped the bladder & Inchy didn’t get leaky,
Hoping no seizures came, or bleeding from my pinkie,
Prayed I’d not fall asleep, for me that’s customary,
A man came for me, so many corridors, bafflingly,
That waiting room was packed, almost fully…
One seat free, near a door, it was very draughty,
Folks going in and out, returning with a takeaway…
Bottles in brown bags, then whodunwrongitry…
Two people arrived from the constabulary…
Arresting two yobboes, & took them away,
Then, disaster overtook and harassed me!
Urine flowed violently & freely,
For the lesions on Little Inchy,
Embarrassed and getting panicky…
I ask a medic, “Where’s the nearest WC?”
Near the door, where you came into the A&E!
Finding my way went tentatively, nervously,
Through the corridors, any which way?
The flow was getting greater on my way,
No one was in the bog, I’m glad to say…
What I found in the WC caused great dismay,
No bog rolls, towels, my kitchen roll, thankfully,
Was with me in my walker trolley…
The floor was awash, & very stinky
I used it all up, trying to clean body & Inchy,
But felt I must stink. Self-loathing angrily,
My state & condition were full of adversity
Catastrophe, contretemps, then another difficulty,
Ending it all came into mind as an appetency,
Still soaking PP’s, back to the room I did flee,
Unfortunately, getting lost on my way…
Got my bearing, got back, annoyingly…
The desk lady snorted out to me…
You’ve missed your call!
The world around me went into amorphy,
“You’ve been moved to the bottom of the listing”
This pain & frustration were not self-inflicting,
I felt like I was sort of intruding…
I wished I’d bought a bottle of Ivermectin,
This medical horror, I’d not been expecting,
Did I deserve this suffering and vilifying?
As night came on, I was almost shivering…
Damp, cold, and waiting, still waiting…
A blocked Catheter is classed as a medical emergency,
Staff seemed to adopt being unconcernedly?
I was here, involuntarily, & unblamedly?
Much later, a Doctor took me, none too soon…
Into his little treatment room,
Asking me, “What’s your problem?”
Not seeming to want my custom…
Mind you, he was very handsome,
I told him my story, so gruesome,
He inspected things, at first casually,
Then noticed the lesions bleeding away,
These need treatment immediately!
See your Doctor to get a referral quickly,
Then he tried to insert a tube into Little Inchy,
He was determined to get it in forcefully,
Could he get it in? No way!
He made a phone call, then he said…
A specialist is needed, come this way…
Then led through corridors, to see a Mr Day,
Sat me on a chair, more waiting,
At least this time, there was no queuing…
Mr D, I told him the leaking was unrelenting,
Scarily, he said surgery needs doing…
on the penis lesions. Which was nerve-gnawing,
I prayed he was hypothesising,
I hope it’ll all be part of the guarishing?
Tube insertion failed on the first try, worrying!
His 2nd try, and by gum, it went in!
No advice or referral made, & I was listening,
The BP lady arrived, with good news – Amazing!
I’d got a lift home arranged, very pleasing!
Put me on a corrodor chair, again, waiting…
I and my clothes must have been stinking!
I fell asleep, and believe I was dreaming…
Of playing in a World Cup final, & winning!
Woken up by the ambulance men for lifting,
Put in the vehicle, of patients needed fetching,
By then, I was experienced at waiting,
I mused over recent & today’s abhorrencies.
Wild thoughts flowed in abundances,
The ambulance, filled up, we started homewards,
Who got home last? Naturally, it was Chambers,
They took me up to the flat, rang NCC control,
To say I had returned, which seemed subjectable,
I thanked them, my thoughts were now scattered,
My clothes needed throwing, I needed showering…
Body scrubbing, disinfecting, and shaving…
But no, the tap’s hot water was almost freezing!
Used the kettle for hot water, for washing,
Anne Gyna was really hurting,
And the right knee again had me wobbling,
So painful walking, hobbling & genuflecting,
Of course, I’d missed my medicationing…
I called NCC repairs in the morning,
Chap came out for repairing,
The tap was cold again by evening,
I started this blog-Ode, as a Carer was visiting…
He did my bit of shopping,
No blog for so long, I stayed home Odeing,
I really should have gone shopping with him,
Roast smoked pork on the list, I got blended bacon,
Which ended up in the waste bin,
I couldn’t blame Ejaz; I knew what would happen,
Phoned the District nurses, & got information…
They’ll no longer service my Catheter Contraption,
It’s a different one, much more complicated,
Dangerous, Nurses cannot be implicated…
They are barred from attending, I’m worried,
So, as blockages happen fortnightly…
I was instructed to take a taxi to the QMC,
Specifically to the A&E,
If it happens at night, no Carer with Inchie?
Whose to get my shoes and clothes on for me?
What if I have no money for the taxi?
Am I not asking too tendentiously?
The thought of going through the futility,
Embarrassment, pain, and agony,
Filthied, fetid, bloodied, and self-dirtied,
Threatened by yobboes, taxi overcharged,
Waiting here and there, get home so tired…
Angry, a day wasted, feeling withered,
Time for my wild thought to be reactivated?
I’ve never felt so frustrated,
That says a lot! I could have wept…
I just wondered…
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All day, every try until this one, I could not access any files or folders. Suddenly, I could, so I got the BP graphic on.
I have no hopes of it being available again later.
It was not available ten minutes ago, I’ll try again…
HUH!
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I could spit!
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What next, I thought…
I just found out that the hot water is cold again!
Walked into the door frame.
Dropped my mug of Glengettie.
Trying to mop it up, using the stick at the same time, my right knee gave way, and I clouted it and banged my head on the edge of the worktop as I grabbed to stop myself from going all the way down.
Breaking an arm off of my damned spectacles.
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One couldn’t write fiction any scarier!
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I want to make myself free…
of failure, fear, living fretfully,
nervously, and lessen the mental
and physical pains & confusion.
Just thought I’d mention it.
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OLD CARTOON
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Inchie: Saturday 14th February 2026
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PHOTOS HIGH & LOWLIGHTS
Woke up with little effort. With 
grinding away at me. So painful, I wondered how I’d managed to sleep at all. Very odd. Took the Catheter bag off. Checked the taps, etc., and turned the kettle 
on. I took this first snap of the morning (left). It was not as cold as I thought it would be when I opened the window. This is often a sign 
of snow coming. The forecast was a yellow warning for snow in Nottingham. But it didn’t fall. Unlike me, when I went to the wet room. I fell against the sink after using the Throne, and went to have a wash and do the teggies, with the 
prescription toothpaste. Very, very carefully. I could not avoid it hurting with the darned teeth, several of them that had somehow come 
loose. As much as I took care not to overly pressure them, it was a painful job. I think it must have been the crispy, cheesy potatoes I had last night. I really love them, but dare not have any more with the state of my teggies. Instant mash and cheese from now on. Not the same, but needs must. I pondered things over, and realised that the super tasty seaweed snacks, the hot ones with chilli, are much 
harder than the green bags ones that are lighter and thinner. And dearer too. So that’s baked cheesy potatoes, crispy seaweed snacks, and Choc Chip Cookies to remove from my favourites list. I could sob! But I’ll not yet, plenty of time for that later.
The intercom rang; it was the delivery of a Morrison order. I let him in by pressing the door release button and waited for him to arrive. This is a doorstep delivery. And waited… a little longer… and a few minutes more. Went to check on the Amazon site, “This order was Delivered Today”
I struggled to get my shoes on, my back and right shoulder were irritated, even before my treks up and down to the lobby began. I suspected that the 6 bags had been left in the ground-floor lobby. Got down and it proved right. I’d taken the three-wheeled walker with me and got two bags in it, one balancing on top between the handlebars. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then got up to the flat and put the bags in the flat’s lobby near the flat door.
2) Back down to the lobby with the three-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing more now.
3) Back down to the lobby with the th
ree-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing even more now. I took some painkillers before putting the food 
away. I was fuming, but the physical aches kept me from getting mad, if that makes sense. Then got the bags, one by one, into the flatlet in the hallway. I had to leave then, and sit down to recover from my chest pains to ease the breathlessness.
Got the things put away, taking this snap of the view from the kitchenette. My anger was not easing, though. I got on the computer to try to complain to Amazon. Typical oligarch tricks again. Just like British Gas and Virgin Media… GITS! THUNDERTURDS! SWINE!
I asked Google how to complain about an Amazon delivery. Followed their advice, but couldn’t find the tab they said to click on the Your Order page.
I tried to contact Customer Services. Got through the AI’s lists until it came to selecting a reason from the following list: Nonem et my criterior. Snookered again by the Oligarchs. I didn’t find an option to ring them, but it was a 333 call, Minimum £2 a minute, plus unstated connection charges. Sod that you Oligarchs! British Gas charged me about £20, and the problem remains unresolved. The Virgin calls have cost me even more, with frequent connection drops, and they can charge a connection fee each time we have to rin
g back. Ejaz reckoned I’d spent £50 quid, plus connection charges, on the three calls we’ve had to make!
Back to the Amazon Oligarchs Problem.
I found where I could get them to ring me! I couldn’t, well, wouldn’t believe it, so I went through the pick you option of what to talk about, and again, my criterion was not available, but this time I found a ‘Something Else’ option that, for once, did not take me the same number of useless options. They needed my landline number. I put it in and was told, ‘That number is not recognised.’ And went back to where I started my search. I had to work hard, as the physical and mental pain Amazon had inflicted on me was getting to me more each time the telephone number was rejected.
Which was four times, four times I had to go through the system again to get to the comically-called, so-called, Customer Service to phone me.
How the Hell does Amazon get away with this and increase its turnover every year? Silly question… they are Oligarchs, of course. Virgin, owned by Liberty Global oligarchs who own or hold shares in 82% of European internet and telecommunications service providers, and, according to Forbes, pay their CEO millions of dollars a year, plus guaranteed bonuses… Jealousy on my part? Yup!
Getting like my confidence, hatred, health and mental disaffection; a little darker now. Just like Dank Dark Darius Depression is.
I’m not sure which is the most painful right now. The Physical pains, frustration, mental disruption, or the purest hatred that I’ve formed for years.
Well pee’d off, I made a brew of Glengettie, and 
finished off yesterday’s blog. My heart was not in it. That’s a first. I felt, and still do, so downhearted. Thanks to Amazon oligarchs.
Hello, a final, nae, first blast of the powerful but fading sun got through. Those little clouds have been showing for hours. Do you know what that means? No, nor me. Hehe!
The sun faded shortly after taking the Kodak-Tim-2 camera photo.
I went to wash the tea mug, to find that I’d left the bloody hot water tap on to run cold – Again!
The earlier depression that I thought was my lowest all year was beaten by a Mega-Depression, during which I sank to my lowest point all year.
Where is 
when you want him?
Well, what about food? Well, that’s controlled by 
.
I bought a soft sourdough sliced loaf; it was delivered, 
well, almost delivered today by Oligarchs Amazon. But let’s not get back on that subject. It’s still sore! I have some soft bread, but what to go on it? No-butter butter, of course, I’ve some soft blue 
cheese to go with the bread. Some pickled onions, I can suck them but not bite them. Huh! Luckily, I bought the cheaper but softer chicken sausages (Not hostages, Keir!), which I should be able to manage to eat. The Spanish tomatoes are out of season ones, and fat to hard skin and flesh for me to tackle, so I’ll dish them. I have a jar of sliced green tomatoes in water. I’ll see if they are manageable for my poor, cracked, broken, painful, rotting, just been checked by the dentist, who told me they’d be fine until the next visit, teggies to handle.
That was a mouthful.
Well, better get on and make the sarnies then.
Took this snap with Kodak-Tim-2, and as I closed the window, I knocked a jug of kettle water off of the window ledge. I laughed loudly, smiled, sang ‘The Hills are Alive, with the Sound of Music,’ did a backflip as I was mopping up the water… no, you’ll never believe that. I cried!
I’ll, well, I’m hoping to be back in the morning to pick up where I left off updating this fascinating, irresistible, captivating blog… No, you’ll never believe that either. I wouldn’t believe that.
SAD TOOTHACHERS MEAL TONIGHT
The sourdough bread was extra
soft and tasty. A lot of the no-butter
butter, and tomato sauce on top
of pork slices. I made an error
in not putting some of the green
tomato salad on the dish.
The seaweed was thin, but
the most tasty item.
I can’t recall him calling.
Got my head down as soon as Carer Ejaz finished the last call. Sleep came quickly, and stayed with me through until the morning Carer arrived…
More on this tomorrow!
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TTFN, have a good day!
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Inchie Today: Monday 29th December 225
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I’ve seen things through my flat window,
It’ll do no harm now, to let you know,
Last June, one thing stopped my blogging flow,
A man in the tree copse, blowing a zuflolo,
What happened, you won’t believe, though…
A bird flew down, settling on his elbow,
He got out a bag of bread, of sourdough,
And, proceeded to feed the crow…
A spitting image of David Attenborough,
He put two fingers up at me from below.
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Another Challenging Day (Fancy that)
Carer Ejaz arrived late, not that it mattered in the slightest. I was asleep in bed when the intercom rang, and soon discovered what was to be the master ailment of the day.
The Onychovryptosis: ingrowing toenail!
Getting out of bed and knocking the toe on the edge-end, rushing if you can call it that, to get to the panel to admit him in time – I didn’t get there on time.
Ejaz graded the dark urine, and was in pain in his back. Phorpained it a bit. Ejaz examined the toe and declared there were no marks, swelling, or bruises. It was paiful all through the day… whenever I stood on it.
Seeing me struggle to get around, he phoned the district nurses. They told him someone would call.
I took a snap of the view after Ejaz departed.
Not many lights on out there yet? I was wondering if today is a bank holiday?
No wash, shave, or teggies cleaned. Despite the pain in my toe, I launched into a 
mood and just did what I fancied!
I decided to make a brew of Glengettie…
I’d left the hot tap running! Rang cold!
A Community Nurse arrived and removed the sock to examine the toe. The resulting advice and information were: There is no skin damage and no signs of infection. You’ll have to see a chropodist.
Then the gal set about replacing the entire Catheter Cathy Contraption for me. Including fitting a fresh day bag, bless her. A grand job was done.
I meandered hobblingly, using some choice language at whatever it is that’s giving my toe such pain en route, A sot of the houses without any lights on. Then I 
checked out the end car park. I recall struggling to close the balcony door.
Next thing I find is that I’m lying on the bed! Coming round from a seizure, judging by the acid reflux coming up. I didn’t realise that I had been out of it for so long. The clock told me it was about an hour-long session.
I got off the bed… and 
, but 
tempered the pain, mentally, but not physically. Horis was with me again like yesterday. I was not getting anything done that needed doing, and spent so long on the word listings again, it was 17:00hrs before I knew it!
Not sure why I could not recall it, but on the notepad were this week’s INR dosages, the surgery possibly rang me? Or, did someone visit?
I only kept going with the word list! What a Clot!
I knew it, but was not concerned. I am now, after getting nothing done and trying to catch up on this blog. Truth is, today was a bit of a haze.
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,””’,,,,,,,,,,,
,
,
,
,
,
The computer or keyboard is playing up.
I must get some help.
TTFN.
Inchie Today: Wednesday 15th October 2025
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I’d like my annihilation of Starmer to be true,
Absolute, painful, embarrassing & thorough,
I’ll not use a gun, a knife or thumbscrew…
But when he crumbles, this is long overdue
His actions reveal he’s a true-blue,
A Barrister seeking power, a well-to-do,
His defeat or death would be my Xanadu,
No details, this Ode is but an aperçu,
He’s more an oligarch, with no affettuoso,
We cannot rid ourselves of him impromptu,
We know how to work out what we need to do,
But I’ll do my best for you, toodeloo!
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Good Morning, Afternoon or Evening
I am not placing any… well, just a few photos below, to see if this stops them disappearing when folks view the blog. Had a lot of them recently. Grrr! And I haven’t the foggiest idea why.
It was even harder to force myself out of bed this morning than it was yesterday. Summat wrong here. I’ve always been a morning sort of bloke.
I woke around 04:00hrs. And thought I’ll beat this unknown morning drowsiness, and get up now. My determination was strong & decisive. ZZZ!
Then I woke again at 06:30hrs. I whipped back the quilt and checked the night catheter bag. ZZZ!
Another waking at 0645hrs. I forced myself through sheer determination to rise: Okay, the truth is I felt the rear trap-door gurgling and a lot of wind escaping. That was enough; the fear of another not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time encouraged 
me. I was still sitting there, awaiting the torrent to stop as the door chime rang, and Ejaz came in. He shouted out, ‘Are you alright, Gerry?’ Just be a minute, I replied. But of course, with all the cleaning up of the spurted mess, it took me much longer.
Ejaz carried out a body check and applied barrier cream to three areas (back, groin and belly). Foamed the lower part of my left leg, which was getting a little worse, with crocodile red skin patches. Then he Phorpained the left knee all the way around to help with the knee fractures, Arthur Itis, and Catheter Chloe. He colour-rated the urine and emptied the pouch for me. Medications were issued, and Peptac was taken. He then sprayed the eyes with Blether cream and the dry eyes spray. For the last task, he did the Health Checks with me and ensured that they were appropriately recorded on the graph. Both of today’s BP readings were on a HIGH level. Which was acceptable to me cause they followed a HYPER & HIGHER ones from Monday & Tuesday.
Inevitably, when I got on the computer, Ape-Shit describes the events. It would not let me open Google from the icon, or from the Control thingy.
Total frustration!
I closed down CorelDraw and gave up.
I was at the end of my tether. Every day this happens. The battle to do the graphics, an Ode, and the HC chart is getting overwhelming, not to mention tackling the rest of the blog.
For a few minutes, I was lost in hatred of my accursed, lousy luck and the impossibility of getting any help. Boy, was I feeling down and out.
Can’t remember ever being this depressed.
Then, I just wandered into the kitchen, not really knowing why, and took some snaps of the view.
Straight ahead…
Then slightly to the left.
I think that maybe I’d resigned myself to the situation without realising it.
I won’t lose any memory or time in putting any of the others on. Bear in mind how low I was.
I returned to the computer after a good while, almost thoughtlessly looking out of the kitchen window, fearing the worst with the damned computer. I think I tried to tell myself that I knew this would happen eventually – no computer, no blog, no email, no ordering food (but that bit was great!).
Could I live without it?
I reluctantly got back to the desk, convinced this was the end, the finish, the death of the computer… Now, had it been Starmer who died, I could live with and possibly celebrate that. Hehehe!
A partial saving grace was when I got the computer back on. Fair enough, Google would still not open, but I tried opening Firefox, and it did! Of course, I could not get to or remember all the Google-saved passwords. So, still could not get into WordPress.
I got on Google from the icon, but it wanted passwords, verification, etc..
A strange inspiration came over me, and I told the computer my problem, asking what I could do to correct it. Unfortunately, I’m not a Computer specialist, a computer technician, a computer software or hardware engineer, a computer scientist, or a computer guru. I think that the collection, as mentioned earlier, might have understood what the advice meant for me and how to implement it collectively. A few of the eighty tips from the site’s advice I was brave enough to try.
But only the ones where I knew I could cancel or remove after they failed. And they did. Not only that, but I was getting more het-up again.
Three hours later, I was again at the point of giving up. Ejaz did a quick call but didn’t understand what I was telling him, and I couldn’t figure out what else I could try. Thanked Ejaz and off he went.
I seem to recall that the last gasp chance would be to close everything, give it a few minutes, and restart, as I did yesterday to get CorelDraw’s problems sorted. This would be about 13:40hrs.
I had no idea it had taken place, but it was confirmed when I came back to reality, with the acidic, horrible-tasting, and smelly gust of wind that came up into my mouth. I thought I had had a mini-seizure; they are the ones that usually have the acid after them. But the after effects were scary this time. I could not get up for a good few minutes. It felt like the room and I were swaying in different directions. I made sure I stayed where I was in the chair. I did not risk standing or walking until things had cleared in my head. Which took ages. While waiting, I made sure I hadn’t been on the computer and caused a mess of anything. I realised I must have been out of it for over an hour. The door chimed, and in walked my ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She had only called to do a Lifeline wristlet check with the NCC controller, which she did first thing. I must have looked and sounded a little odd after the Seizure.
I told her briefly of events and problems I was having.
She asked if I was ready to go into a home yet. I replied, I think it’s inevitable. Because I’m struggling to get help, doing everyday tasks is getting harder and longer. I told her of the farce of ending up with two chairs, but can’t afford a Carer to take me out. And can’t get help with making the self-propelled one safe to use. I can’t get help with the dwindling finances.
Bless her, she looked at a wheelchair for me.
I mentioned that while she was trying to work out how to get footplates on. When I was in the hospital, a social worker said they would see if they could get me help with my finances. A Red Cross person said they would know if they could provide some help. The team included a physiotherapist, an occupational therapist, a representative of Age UK, and a member of the Falls Team. But no one has contacted me. And mentioned the problem with trying to arrange lifts to hospital appointments. Deana (What an Angel) asked for the appointment letters for next Wednesday with the orthopaedic surgeon. Deana rang them there and then. She arranged for a lift each way. This temporarily helped my lack of faith and prompted a 
visit. 🌺 THANK YOU DEANA 🌺
NOSH
I ate well, at least. (Slurp-gobble)
Inchie Today: Tuesday 14th October 2025
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Do I require a verbal fumigant?
Some control over the money I’ve spent?
Why do I think Starmer is graveolent?
Why in 1963 did I start going glabrescent?
Get so angry, almost incandescent…
With oligarchs, politicians, well, Starmer, I meant,
I know the end of the world is impendent,
Feel I’m in confinement, immurement?
Once I was an individualist, a free-thinker,
As a child, I was a little tinker…
Things changed as I grew older…
Catheter due to my poor bladder,
Bladder infection, turned out to be Cancer,
Now I’ve almost constant diarrhorea,
People tell me I’m a bit of a stinker,
Now I’m a sceptic, like Agrippa,
Physical and mental problems,
My last tumble, that was in September…
Fractured bones in my knee, wrist and finger!
In the hospital, for three weeks I did linger,
In which I had many a seizure, saw a neurologist,
X-rays, cardiac, geriatrics, orthopaedics, bed baths,
Appointment made to see a neuropsychiatrist,
Waiting for an appointment for the laparoscopist,
The hospital was all busy, busy, very little rest…
Under pressure, the medics did their best,
Warden Deana came to see me. She is the loveliest,
She arranged a lift & from the orthopaedic surgery,
Nurse, due for checking on my leg’s Lymphorrhea Leslie,
But Leslie is coming back on the left leg, so, itchingly!
Something is better, though – my eczema and acne!
But a returning ailment is Toothache-Tiffany!
It doesn’t bode well, you may agree…
Adding the mental confusion and argie-bargie…
It looks like it’ll have to be a care home for Inchie,
I speak predictively, presciently, and anticipatorily,
This is going to happen, it’s not quixotry,
I’ll take my loathing & hatred for Starmer with me!
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Mud Gorning!
Again this morning, I woke up in a much better frame of mind and with fewer active ailments. I’m assuming the course of the Penicillin tablets, which ended last night, had a hand in things. Still feeling tired, but that is nothing unusual over the previous week. I had to force myself to get up until 06:35hrs. After waking up at various times and thinking, at 04:30, I thought, well. If I get up now, I can get the abltions sorted. Zzzz!
04:40; I really ought to get up and make use of the Porcelain Throne… Zzzz!
05:05hrs: I could well have an unplanned rear-end evacuation if I don’t get up. Zzzz!
05:20hrs: Panic Flap, nearly had myself over twice, and clouted Shaking Shoulder Shirley on the edge of the wet room door, and scrambled my dressing gown of ASAP… I made it, but with nothing to spare time-wise, of course, it was a Trotsky Terence affair again. I distinctly recall thinking, ‘Well, at least that got me to get up at last.’
0532hrs: I returned to the front room and sat in 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, to take of the Night Catheter pouch.
Zzzz!
05:55hrs. I stirred amb verbally lambasted myself. I really must get up, I’ve got an order coming from 06:30hrs. Zzzz!
06:25, Woke and begrudgingly forced myself back up.
I don’t know how I managed it, but missing the food delivery possibly played a part; it was due between 06:30 and 07:00hrs.
No sooner had I got the night bag of than I felt the dripping out movement from the rear end!
!
To make things all the more painful, yet again rushing hobblingly through the wet room door, I clouted 
.
Things took a nasty turn, messy-wise. As I had a hold of the pants to rip them off, 
let rip with a wet, gooey torrent of innards contents.
At that moment, I thought I heard the intercom sound. Panic, I do not want to miss the delivery, and it might have been the nurse from the DVT Warfarin Clinic who came to take my blood, but how do I get to the panel in the hallway in time, in the state I was in?
Thankfully, when I opened the door and looked across to the unlit hallway, I could not see a light on the panel. So at least I kept the treading of phoo within the wet room, but was still worried in case anyone came while I was in the motion of cleaning myself, the floor, the porcelain and searching for hidden bloblets anywhere in the wet room, up.
I think I used three rolls of kitchen towels and the same number of rolls of toilet paper. And it’s not seven o’clock yet!
I got a good wash, but I dare not turn the convector wall heater on because it’s rather noisy. It would reduce my chances of hearing if, as often happens, people knock on the door and do not use the buzzer thingamajig.
I don’t need to tell you how ashamed I felt.
After cleaning up, I checked the mobile for any messages and got the computer to do the same with the Emails that may have come in while I was cleaning myself and the wet room.
I found an Email from J Sainsbury. Three items were not available, but I didn’t mind that. But they had sent an expensive, ready-to-cook potato meal with a one-day shelf life. I must remember to send it back.
I started on the blog update for yesterday. And had to rush back to the Porcelain Throne! Got there in time more easily this visit. A good job too; the motion was a sort of Whoosh! and all over, splattering the porcelain and my bottom and legs.
Went to wash myself and found I’d left the hot tap on, so it was running cold!
WHAT the Heck NEXT?
Well, I’ll tell yous…
Carer Ejaz arrived, and he couldn’t seem to grasp my tale of woe I was giving me. But I imagine I was a bit uptight about the situations suffered, so I may have been talking too fast.
Before he could do anything medically, the ‘Oh, Susana’ tune came from the intercom. It was the Sainsbury delivery. Ejaz carried the stuff into the kitchenette, loose and put it on the floor. I mentioned I would have difficulty bending down to pick them up, so I leave all the carrier bags near the door to put them into the delivery boxes. No hint of criticism in my voice, after all, the lad was trying to help me.
I remembered the potato meal and asked him to return it to the driver for me. Which he did, bless his cotton socks. So, I had loose food in the kitchen, hallway and front room to sort out when Ejaz left, and he had’t had a chance to do the medicines or medicating, and running out of time. Which I fully understood. He checked that the DC returns matched. Issued the medications, and had a look at my Google Email problem, the tabs had disappeared of the screen. He had to shoot off to get the bus to his next call, and I thanked him most muchly.
I had a go at getting the tabs back on Email, but gave up when I remembered the food in the hallway & kitchen needed sorting. I got them away somehow. Anywhere there was room, it was a right mess, just like the kitchen and front room are now. I usually take snaps of them, but after the earlier Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, I was very attentive & concentration was impossible to glean, adopt or use.
I got back on the computer to put the earlier photos I’d taken on CorelDraw to ready them for use.
While checking the SD card, I saw photos of food, assumed they were old, and deleted them. ARGH!
Then, I touched up the few I loaded on CorelDraw, and then went to get two of the small pork pies with pickle to nibble. Ejax was back on his second call now and spotted some short dates on other products in the fridge. He took a waste bag, which was pretty full, with him when he left to the refuge chute for me.
While I was in there, I took a selection of some of the food delivered to post on the blog. Here it is.
I got some potatoes and garden peas in the slow-cooker. I added some vegetable seasoning and a dollop of light Soy sauce. Then, I made up a bottle with spring water, grapefruit cordial, and soda water. Not too strong, but with the soda water added, it tasted a little tart and tangy.
Back to the computer, and got the above photo on. I also realised I’d made yet more 
.
I’d missed off the three snaps I took earlier of the morning views on offer.
All of these were taken from the balcony, through the glass. This one straight ahead.
To the right, the treetops of my greatly missed visiting tree copse in the bottom field.
Down to the right, the Citrus Grove end car park. Note the little red car on the chevrons?
Looks like the parks department is getting ready to do some work.
The day has almost gone; it’s nearing the Carer’s teatime visit —any minute now.
I’ve just been to check on the potatoes and peas. Tried a few of each – what a gorgeous flavour!
Added some of my favourites
to the biscuit barrel.
Time to get some food sorted now.
A cheap meal, like this, would have been when I first moved into a flat from home. I estimate what the costs might have been; Peas 1/- at most. Cornish Pasties 1/- each. Potatoes 2p. Gravy 2p. Totalling in old money, 2/4p. That’s less than 12½p in today’s dosh. It cost me over £5 today! What percentage increase would this be? (Arithmaphobia)
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ARRIVEDERCI MON AMI’s
Inchie Today: Monday 13th October 2025
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– – – Updated with more waffle – – –
I struggle with my mental roaming,
I search, ask, but no one is answering,
But why should they, I say while praying…
I can see my end, advancing…
That’s how it is, no romancing…
I’m not exactly laughing or dancing,
At the thought of my decaying & dying,
To live a long time, I’ve not been relying on anything,
Since starting to take the Amoxicillin…
Toothache Tiffany, the pain she’s still inflicting...
Looking forward to the trephinating….
Remembering, ashamed & self-loathing…
My fractured knee, cuts while shaving…
But the way the computer has been behaving…
Almost got to me, it had me spitting & cursing!
Till a visit came from Community Nursing,
I fell in love as she removed the compression bandaging,
She said I’m doing well; which was very encouraging!
She replaced it with a new one, after medicating,
Then she got me on the bed, things were tingling!
As she began my catheter-contraption removing…
If I’d written these lines correctly, they’d have no rhyming,
The tube from Little Inchie, pain-free, with no hurting,
She came to the bit, which can tear-bringing!
But not with this gal, I was actually singing…
As she manipulated the tube back into Little Inchy!
It went so well, we laughed jocosely!
Her visit rid me of my jejunity,
I insisted, in thanks, she takes goodies for nibbling,
My thanks, and coffee and cans for drinking.
And some croissants to share with others who are nursing.
Since starting to take the Amoxicillin,
I was good before, but it’s worsening,
I can lose what I’m saying when talking,
Phoning? To whom am I speaking?
My worries are now amalgamating,
Coming together, congealing…
And it’s not a very lovely feeling,
Is this because I took the penicillin?
Concentrating, I need this elucubrating,
Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion is bleeding,
I’m more edgy about my poor equilibrating,
The days that flash by as if speeding,
Now time flashes by, without my noticing,
My brain that moves so slowly, galumphing,
My knees’ agony when moving or genuflecting,
Aware that I’ll never again be jigajigging,
For months I’ve not yodelled or sung,
My mental & physical state is now larrupting,
Ailments that for a long time have been erupting,
But, enough of this self-prognosticating…
Magic Mushrooms, which gave me psilocin…
Tried them once, they were mind-blowing,
Now water-on-the-brain; a new thing,
This is not psychotomimetic or intoxicating,
For the Trephination operation, I am waiting,
Not looking forward to the trephinating,
But I’m not scared, or in fear, just accepting…
That life has been excruciating and bewildering,
Well, after I started to get old and ageing,
I’ve tried to avoid sinning & vernacularising,
I seeked not exculpationing or validationing,
Now, I start wailing, moaning & whimpering,
Accepting it’s distressing, disturbing, upsetting…
I have irreverent fancies, often witwantoning,
Failing is something I used to find depressing,
With my conscience, I was ever juggling…
Striving for just one chance of winning,
But ended up an expert in failing,
My hopes for a win started deteriorating,
My faith started declining, crumbling,
Then old age and I started decaying…
Physically, the ailments started mounting,
Mental problems, too, were beginning…
Dementia, PN, so many I stopped counting,
As one problem started regressing,
A new one was developing,
The first one started retrogressing,
My hopes were fading, falling & failing,
No longer anxious or troubled, just foreboding,
Accepting my fate, but fulminating,
I soon accepted my losses & forfeiting,
But seeing Starmer as PM is an abomination…
A disgrace, an obscenity, a transgression.
Starmer has a certain air, but no admirability,
He made Tory Mark Harper, into Baron Harper,
He’s a charlatan, deceiver, hoodwinker & liar!
A masquerader, grifter, confidence-trickster,
Is this why he did so well as a barrister?
A double-dealer, hoaxer, swindler, flimflammer,
A back-hander taker, illywhacker & douceur,
I imagine I sound a bit of a derogator?
I mentioned Keir to my electroencephalographer,
One of his worst traits is his hylomania!
His compassion is non-existent, not even minuscule!
I so look forward to his moratoria!
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Horrible day!
Apart from the nurse doing my leg bandaging and changing the catheter-contraption, of course.
I fell in love again; I must top this at my age.
CorelDraw and Computer problems again.
Left the hot water tap to run cold again.
Got to the Porcelain Throne too late again. What a mess I made… I blame Trotsky Terence.
Lost the TV remote control. Found it five hours later.
Went down to call on Jenny and Frank. I got off the ninth floor, and for some unknown reason, I inwardly lambasted myself: “You Pratt!” Then went down to the eighth floor, into the small lobby, and realised as soon as I noticed there was no bell-push on the door, that I was on the wrong floor. It was the eighth floor! Still, poor Jenny cannot get up very well, so I didn’t see her, but it was lovely seeing Frank again.
Then Carer Ejaz told me was not doing the last call. Thankfully, he will be here in the morning. I hope.
Ejaz did his best and may have got in trouble for overstaying on his visit; to call the Doctor. He got through after selecting buttons to answer the robot questions. He reached another robot and was 3rd in the queue. He then gave me my mobile to monitor the repeated messages while I called the Audio Centre, which took 20 minutes to get through. Apparently, they will email me. From the first time I called the Doctors, it took 30 minutes to speak to a receptionist, five minutes to explain the problem, and they will send me a text.
So nothing was achieved. We were both frustrated. Although a stronger word may explain how we felt a little more accurately.
Did I mention the CorelDraw and Google problems?
There’s no time left if I don’t, so it’s already late.
Photos & Comments
The catheter pouch, before my nurse tended to it.
Morning view.
Forgot why I took this one.
HC equipment. High BP today.
Aha, got some of the Marmite & cheese puffs.
Too many drinkies. Even though
I’m drinking nonstop to help
my bladder pass to the catheter.
So tired, only just changed the date.
Copernicus sausage, Potato Rostis, cooked beetroot, tomatoes & cheesy bread rolls.
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Things are now more of a struggle!
I’m forever in a muddle…
I could do with a cuddle!
= = = = = = = == = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Feeling a little sad for myself there, sorry!
Sunday 12th October 2025
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
KCB KC MP, Sir Keir Rodney Starmer,
Kills pensioners, hates every farmer,
Self-wealth & backhanders he does fancy,
I’ll say any more, I’d lose my abstinency!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Did you notice? I’ve gorra a new Grim Reaper,
He’s not very good, & he’s got Zeusophobia,
The poor git only snuffed it last October,
Our conversation was very soon over…
He only speaks Kosovoan, a war survivor,
He was calling to learn our language proper,
I gleaned all this, not through a natter…
He’s been given details of me, on paper,
No idea how he snuffed it, I’ll find out later,
He knew of my problems with viatica,
I thought at first he meant my sciatica,
If he passes the test, a global Soul-Collector,
He could be a soul-seeking globetrotter,
A low rating; to the UK, to collect Starmer!
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It’s a lot less bothersome this morning. I wasn’t as disoriented when I got up… but that’s not saying a lot (Hehe!) I was still feeling out of it, compared to how things were before the tumble and fractured knee bones.
Anne Gyna has been very kind these last two days. Even Cartilage Chloe has!
Glacoma Gladys is a bugger today. The brain soon returned to its confused and incoherent state after midday. It was like blinking, and my cognitive abilities faded immediately. Yet minutes before this, I was working on the CorelDraw problem… and got it sorted out on my own 
.
Then the confusion returned and stayed for the rest of the day 
.
Photo Gallery from Inchie
Hopefully Chronologically
Maybe the odd oddity…
But… you know me.
Early Morning fog
A Trotsky Terence Evacuation…
I was lucky enough to get there in time.
As I was about to go in, my Carer, Ejaz, turned up.
I told him I’m hoping to get a shower, shave, etc., so we didn’t do any body checks or medicationings. He issued the medications. And off he trotted.
I finished off the Saturday blog and got it posted. Again, I went into a 
. Then realised I’d not done my ablutionings! So, I did
I did the teggies very carefully. Then had a shave using the new razors, carefully. No cuts, no droppages! 
Sprayed the eyes and nasal apertures. Put some olive oil drops in both ear-holes. While using some 
soap substitutes on my neck, I noticed a new scar on my chin. It looked old, it had dried, crusted. I had caught it with the Cratiscinite applicator, and it bled a smidge. No problem, but there was some confusion. The blood looked really light, like when I was in the hospital and they found the heart failing. It was the same colour, but later, when we did the Health Checks, the results were not bad at all. And the blood count and oxygen levels were good? As I said, confused, but not worried! Why? The arrival out of the blue, of 
, who spent an hour or so with me. Problems came as usual during that time, and they were not solved. However, the precious ‘Sod-Them-All’ attitude Horis brings me is unbelievable, eerie, yet so welcome —great! I still can’t work out how or why this happens, but I’m just glad 
that it does visit me now and then.
Then, along came another Porcelain Throne visit. Yet again, had I not been unclothed and standing next to the WC Throne, meaning I got down on it in a few seconds, it shot out like from a hosepipe!
Horis had cheered me up, and I decided to 
handwash the Khagoule and hung it up to dry in the wet room. It was then that it dawned on me that I had not done the other freshenings & medicationings yet. No cursing or swearing at myself. Usually, these lapses get me really angry with myself, but not this time, I had 
with me. Most annoyingly, when I got back in the wet room, it was like someone switching off a light or tap; he instantly vanished, with no fading involved.
But it was nice while it lasted! I didn’t medicate any areas I couldn’t reach, because Ejaz said he’d do them on his next call. Then I got the body, feet and aftershave perfumes sprayed on. Hehe!
Back to check if I’d left the tap running in the kitchen, and at last, the fog was beginning to clear somewhat, slowly.
I got on the computer, and was doing reasonably well, starting the template from scratch… then…
Problems with CoralDraw then, & WP yet again!
I was in the middle of selecting a graphic to amend to use. And the screen went to full size, without any icons showing to restore, minimise or close the frame! All other programmes running in the background were unattainable except when I closed the graphics folder. Awkward!
How or what I did wrong, if anything, I knew not – I also did not know how to get it to condense.
I’m sure, as I could be, that I’d had this problem on CorelDraw before, and felt I’d saved the solution on the CorelDraw Notepad, but no! I searched for Windows, restore-down, full screen, and other options, but nothing was there. I ended up going through all of the notebook pages searching for the same things one at a time. After about an hour, and only about 10% of the way through the sheets, I gave up. And looked at my notepad cover, I sometimes put things like this on it. Nope!
I spent ages searching on Google. But, of course, I couldn’t get the right question to get an answer.
Despair and frustration were growing; I thought it was my best bet to wait until Elaz returns.
Yet I kept on trying, again and again.
Eventually, when I put Windows 10 into the equation, I mean, question—the first one on the list was telling me to go into my (unheard of, not known) to change instructions on three areas… I’ve no idea what that is, where to get them, or how to change them anyway.
I went back to Google and tried another tip, but that involved changing things in the operating system, or something like that. No way am I touching that! Back to Google!
This one told me to press Win and L. I can recommend that no one tries this… the computer closed down! I could have hit the wrong button, I suppose? With my Gladys Glaucoma, I can barely read an email without increasing the font size. Then the print goes out of view at the edges, and there are only two buttons to press to begin with. I rebooted and tried again. But not at this site.
Then the next one down triggered a memory; this was advice I took last month when the problem occurred. Even I find it hard to believe I’d forgotten it. So, if anyone finds the screen goes to full size, you can press the Win button and the down arrow, which works a treat to reduce the screen!
I just fail to see how I forgot it! What a plonker is not strong enough to express my self-disgust! Absolutely pee’d myself off!
Shortly afterwards, Ejaz came into the room. I tried to explain what had gone on with the ablution and CorelDraw problem, but I didn’t need to bother; he couldn’t understand what I was saying. But he set about sorting me out carewise, bless him. He gave me a Penicillin capsule. Asked if I needed other medications. I asked for Codeine, the lad Phorpain-gelled my back, and left leg’s Cartilage, Arthur Itis, and the Fractured knee. The right leg still has the compression bandaging on, which stopped me from having a shower! 
Then, to my amazement, WordPress went full-screen on me, and the Win button and down arrow trick did not work this time! But after a minute or so, a circle with an X in the middle appeared at the top of the screen. I pressed it and got back to normal. Phew!
These problems, like yesterday’s, are likely due to the massive Google Chrome update. Or not?
Ejaz did his teatime call. Dealt out the evening medications. He asked if I wanted any foam, cream or back-passage caplets. None needed.
Mental more than, medical today, Hehe!
After Ejaz departed, I started getting my daily meal sorted. A ready meal of lamb in gravy, with colcannon mashed potatoes, and carrots. I made up some extra lamb gravy with mint. So I can have two bread rolls to dip in it, to soften them first. I think I may like this nosh.
I looked up Ejaz in English before closing the computer, and it said:
EJAZ: translates to “miracle,” “wonder,” or “inimitability”. It is a male name that conveys a sense of awe and exceptional quality.
Dare I tell him? Hahaha!
NOSH MADE
Well, I had a ready-made meal, adding some lamb & mint gravy to soak it up and soften the cheesy bread rolls.
I settled down early, in search of Sweet Morphius. But he wasn’t playing. I got up and put the TV on. This sometimes helps me nod off when the adverts come on. But it didn’t work at first. Then I did go into bliss for an hour, and ever after that, I was totally awake, yet 
started and gave me no rest at all.
I did try making a mug of tea, hoping it might help me get to sleep. Huh!
Then returned and climbed into the bed, but there was no sleep. I tried for several hours, fruitlessly.
KEEP SAVE…
BE GOOD…
WELL, KEEP SAFE! Hehe!
Thank Heavens Horis, helped a bit today.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Inchie Today: Saturday 11th October 2025
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I struggle with my mental roaming,
I search, ask, but no one is answering,
Since starting to take the Amoxicillin,
I was good before, but it’s worsening,
I can lose what I’m saying when talking,
Phoning? To whom am I speaking?
My worries are now amalgamating,
Coming together, congealing…
And it’s not a very nice feeling,
Is this because I took the penicillin?
Concentrating, I need this elucubrating,
Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion is bleeding,
I’m more edgy about my poor equilibrating,
The days that flash by as if speeding,
Now time flashes by, without my noticing,
My brain that moves so slowly, galumphing,
My knees’ agony when moving or genuflecting,
Aware that I’ll never again be jigajigging,
For months I’ve not yodelled or sung,
My mental & physical state is now larrupting,
Ailments that for a long time have been erupting,
But, enough of this self-prognosticating…
Magic Mushrooms, which gave me psilocin…
Tried them once, they were mind-blowing,
Now water-on-the-brain; a new thing,
This is not psychotomimetic or intoxicating,
For the Trephination operation, I am waiting,
Not looking forward to the trephinating,
But I’m not scared, or in fear, just accepting…
That life has been excruciating and bewildering,
Well, after I started to get old and ageing,
I’ve tried to avoid sinning & vernacularising,
I seeked not exculpationing or validationing,
Now, I start wailing, moaning & whimpering,
Accepting it’s distressing, disturbing, upsetting…
I have irreverent fancies, often witwantoning,
Failing is something I used to find depressing,
With my conscience, I was ever juggling…
Striving for just one chance of winning,
But ended up an expert in failing,
My hopes for a win started deteriorating,
My faith started declining, crumbling,
Then old age and I started decaying…
Physically, the ailments started mounting,
Mental problems, too, were beginning…
Dementia, PN, so many I stopped counting,
As one problem started regressing,
A new one was developing,
The first one started retrogressing,
My hopes were fading, falling & failing,
No longer anxious or troubled, just foreboding,
Accepting my fate, but fulminating,
I soon accepted my losses & forfeiting,
But seeing Starmer as PM is an abomination…
A disgrace, an obscenity, a transgression,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sorry, yet again, time beat me.
The usual concentration is gone.
Since starting the Amoxicillin, I’ve
been terrible in the morning each
day, and not getting much better.
I’ll put the photos on one, and I’m glad to say there are many more today. I hope I can recall taking them, which may help me gather more details.
If this goes on much longer, I may just do a cartoon HCs and do an Ode. I’m not feeling any better now.
Nocturnal urine, Ejaz gave it a 5.
When I made up the waste bags into one,
boy, did I have a Dizzy Dennis visit.
My balance was insufficient; confusion reigned.
Ejaz called. Looked after the body checks. Issued the medications. Ointmentated my legs and the one foot he had access to. The right leg still had a compression bandage on. Then he Phorpain-gelled the left cartilage and Arthur Itis’s knee. Gave the fractured knee extra foam.
The Iceland delivery arrived, and the driver kindly threw the bag onto the kitchen floor for me.
Treats for Nurses, Carer, and me. Hehe!
Did you notice the Red Tea?
No idea why I bought it, a mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits.
Ah, Inchies treats these are.
Got the items needed into the fridge.
I filled up the Carer & Nurses’ desk with the nibbles.
Then, I refreshed the [posh biscuit barrels with some shortcake & shortbread biscuits!
Well stocked up with catheter fillers.
Ode hue to this one of the front car park.
Getting late now. Lovely hue to this one.
Ejaz is not in a good mood, which is not like him at all. His next visit was a different kettle of fish.
The Catheter box arrived, and I put it on the bed. To sort out when Ejaz has time, we need to coordinate. He didn’t have time today.
Ten minutes later, the Sharrows parcel arrived.
Another cracking snap from the kitchen.
Then Ejaz made his last call. He was not keen when I mentioned sorting out the medical supplies underneath the Carer’s table.
I sorted out the meal of the day.
Vegetable stew, with garden peas, water chestnuts, beans and flavourings, Bovril and concentrated beetroot juice, which Nurse Hristina granted me. 🤎 I put a few chips in the oven to soak in the soup.
Tasty!
Got the trots in the morning, Tsk!
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TTFN, all the best!
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