Deep Vein Thrombosis – Page 3

Inchy: Tuesday 21st January 2025

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

Inchy: Friday 17th January 2025 – Memories

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REMEMBERING
Do You…
Remember the comfort & luxury of home life as a nipper?
The Kodak Brownie box camera?
The black & white photo booths all over?
Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa?
Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower?
Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder?
Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular?
Or even more appealing was Rita, who was far more cuddlier,
I desired her so (sob) but never got a date with her!
Remember the 1955 number-one hit. ‘Let me go, lover’?
Sang by sexpot Teresa Brewer?
She wisely didn’t answer my letter!
Recall the Ration Book, weekly; bacon and ham 4oz; 4oz of butter, loose tea 4oz; sugar 8oz; meat one shilling-worth; cheese 1oz; preserves 8oz a month! Then biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk, canned and dried fruit joined the list. Babies, pregnant women and the sick were allocated additional food items such as milk, orange juice and cod liver oil. Domestic coal was rationed to 15 hundredweight yearly in London and 20 hundredweight for those in the north. Clothing was rationed using a point system. This allowed for approximately one new outfit per year but was reduced steadily until buying a coat used up almost a year’s supply of clothing points. Clothing became utilitarian: pleats and turn-ups disappeared from trousers, and garments were plain. Women painted gravy browning on bare legs to replace silk stockings and painted black lines at the back to simulate the seams! Food rationing worsened after the war due to the country’s badly damaged economy. Bread rationing began for the first time in late 1946; the bacon ration halved in October, and potatoes were rationed in November. The Standing Committee on Medical and Nutritional Problems was concerned about those who had to live on their rations and lacked access to canteen or restaurant meals. The Ministry of Health decided to help with assistance with shopping, cooking and providing meals on wheels. Rationing ceased in May 1954,
During & after the war, Spivs, black-marketeers Galore,
Nottingham prosecuted 2,400, elsewhere more!
Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir?
The coal house, the yard gate, and more?
The wooden lid? Bum splinters that were sore?
The discomfort of a freezing winter?
No toilet paper, but cut-up newspaper?
The cistern would freeze after December?
Lighting a candle or lamp, you had to remember!
No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser.
Unaffordable for the Inchy geezer.
The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer?
Boiling water on the stove and on the coal fire?
Getting mine last was a bit of a harrumpher…
Cleaning out the other’s dirt, scurf & seborrhea!

DC electric shocks, with a ‘let-go” threshold high?
Compared to AC, is it likely to knock you over or fly?
But more people getting AC shocks die.
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I didn’t keep much of a diary today. I spent so long trying to find pictures for my Memory Ode, but I didn’t have a camera this morning, so I had to use something from the file or web.

I returned to this facsimile of life at 05:15hrs. Got the scrub-up and shaving done. Then ablutions & medicationings were completed. Trotsky Terence Porcelain’s visit was made without any premature evacuational movements. Phew!

I started the ode, and seven hours later, I finished it. (I’m not joking; my concentration was all over the place.) However, the ailment has been fair to me up to now. I’m not able to say that very often! Although the struggle with getting the right pictures from the web and files may have been part of the problem, it seems to have appeased some of my ailments?

During the Ode workings, Carer Chris visited me, and then Carer Joanne visited again. We had a little natter and a laugh about our current problems.

Between this activity, I put one large potato in the slow cooker. I walked into the wet room door, another should-charge job; was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off and , but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having!
As for the past 4 or 5 days, is still on form. I forgot to ring the Doctor about asking for some under-tongue dissolving medication, but it’s too late in the day now, and of course, with the weekend coming, I can’t do anything about it. Not until Monday, when most likely the only thing I’ll do is forget to make the call again. Huh!
Nowadays, life continues like this; Never-ending returning circles, tangents and variations of failures, errors, forgetfulness, mysterious episodes of utter confusion (unrecognised seizures possibly?), with rare but precious dabblets of contentment, verging on happiness. The feared visits of unreasonable sadness, self-anger, & self-disgust, almost a loathing sometimes. But not yet today. This may be why I just flooded out my feelings. Is it as if I’ve only just realised what is going on?

Yet help & solutions are elusive.

Even talking to myself (I do an awful lot of that), my queries, questions and even my own answers or decisions I know are evasive, not logical or practical. Conceivably inenarrable. Confidentless and doomed not to be done and to fail even if they are attempted. Taking all the things I’ve just written & read above, I now see with clarity one word that I’d missed. Bonkersness! What a load of talking nineteen to the dozen, prattling, gabbling twaddle! I’ve lost it! Hehehe!
If anyone can understand it, please let me know.

I’m going to check on the potatoes now…

No, not ready yet. I hope the Carer doesn’t call while I’m eating. The spuds will get cold, and the potato skin will go hard and hurt my teggies. Hehe!

Well, the potato skins went hard and hurt my teggies. Not considering the pain from the gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted. I settled with the TV on, and at my first bite of a pickled mushroom, Carer Chris arrived—not that it spoiled the meal in any way. I cooked the lad a chicken pattie in the microwave; it only took two minutes, and he scoffed it down with a drink of lemonade. Well, he was tired and hungry. Hehe! Help with the camera loan was much appreciated. The poorly-poo Kodak will be examined on his days off. Fingers Crossed!

Sleep came so quickly.
But thanks to the occasional jerking from , I seemed to be shooting awake every few minutes – it probably wasn’t that often, but it felt like it was in the morning. Humph!
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Hasta la vista!
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Inchie: Accifauxpa Ridden Sunday 12th January 2025

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Are you insalubrious, a drunk, or insidious?
Should one be a warmonger or a pacifist?
Would you believe an Oligarch or astrologist?
Do you need an allergist or chemist?
Are you carrying anything infectious?
Has your life been wonderful or inglorious?
Are you religious, agnostic, or irreligious?
Are you daily aerobicised or alcoholised?
Are you yet Starmer acclimatised?
Not believing the murderer might be wise?
He may well be the devil, the Anti-Christ?
A shame his mother didn’t use an abortionist,
He lies so well and is a good apophthegmatist,
PM, Labour leader? And not a socialist?
He’s too right-wing to be a Conservative…
For Starmer, there’s no live & let live,
Pensioners, he robs, lets farmers chew the cud…
The UK’s future is certainly not looking good…
He’s overdue to get his comeuppance,
But is there a genuine chance?
How did he get himself his Knighthood?
Are his fascist plans misunderstood?
For his lies alone, he should be braceleted,
He is indeed cruel, blackhearted,
I bet he’s still being backhanded!
Ensuring his own bread is well-buttered!
Keir lies, steals and never gets castigated?
I’ll be long dead by the time he’s cremated,
Which makes me feel cheated, exasperated,
I’ll be waiting for him in Hell, teeth-gritted…
Where his death can be celebrated!
By dead pensioners and farmers, that’d be good!
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NOT A BAD START TO THE DAY AT ALL!
I awoke at 04:15hrs with the regulation jerk and jump supported by . Both cartilages, Chloe and Carole, Arthur Itis’s knees, Electric Shocking Sherida, Duodenal Donald, and even Ann Gyna gave me a break. Shaking Shoulder Shirley and Peripheral Pete’s leg dance routines were active but not overly much.
Until just before midday, I was singing away to myself.

Then, two falls in twenty minutes as Cartilage Chloe let me down both times. From then on, after the second tumble, I could not continue with the blog.
Electric Shocks Sherida started, and more painfully, Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany followed. So, after lunchtime, this has thinner content than usual—almost nothing, at this moment.
A 100% change from the marvellous morning I’d enjoyed. Even the computer, particularly CorelDraw, crashed again, and I was struggling as it was. In the morning, I got yesterday’s blog off nice and early, too. Of course, now I’ve lost so much time.
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I woke at 04:15hrs, Feeling surprisingly well. Sure (for some silly reason), the ailments listed above would soon settle. Hahahaha!
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, leaving it for the Carer to confirm the NHS colour rating later. As usual, I hobbled into the kitchenette to check the cooker, taps, etc. Taking these shots of morning view. The moon and another planet were visible, but I can’t see them in these pictures. Venus?
Still cold outside at 0°c.

I got the kettle on.
Forgot to make the tea.

Messy, spluttery and a lot of it!

Washed, no shave, fresh PPs on.
Medicated the lower region.

I went to make a brew again and took these later shots of the sky as it changed colour and hue.
Back to green today.

Pottered about getting the bags sorted. Finally, onto the computer with a mug of Co-op 99 tea.
After finishing and posting the Saturday update, I went onto CoralDraw. It crashed, so I had to restart and use the CCleaner, which took me over an hour to get things going again. But things were very slow.

Frustrated, I went to wash the mug and get away from the computer problems. But found another problem…
Cartilage Chloe gave way, as I bent down to get another bottle of cleaner from the cupboard. The tumble was all over in seconds, as I got mangled with the trolley and knocked just about everything on it to the floor on my way down.
I had to make my way back to the room on all fours to utilise the recliner to help haul my body from the floor. Which went amazingly well. Of course, both knees needed attention. The Catheter bag seemed alright, with no splits of leaks.
That will teach me not to take a walking stick with me!
I entered the wet room and rubbed some Phorpain Gel on my knees. Oiled my ear-holes at the same time. I forgot to earlier. Fancy that, me forgetting something!

I returned to the computer to see how to rescue the work lost on the CorelDraw crash.
Carer Kimberley arrived. Pointing out I’d got a wound on my head near the eye, asking what happened. I told her the sad tale of woe. She took a photo of it.It was barely a scratch, and there was no pain with it. Haha!
Medications given. And off she trotted, bless her.

I lost the artwork on CorelDraw. Now I was not happy!

I started the blog for today. After about two minutes, I felt worried that I had left the kitchen taps on.
And stupidly hobbled hastily to the kitchen, thinking, believing I had left the tap running.
As I got through the door (Stickless!).
MARK TWO
Cartilage Chloe had done it again! But the fantastic bit this time is I hit my head in almost the same place on the edge of the counter, so at least there was no mess to clean up.
I’m looking on the bright side here!
When Chloe did the net call, she took another photo.
A very slight headache, but no actual pain.
Apart from the knees again, Anne Gyna started, and she was serious about it this time.
Kimberley gave me a Codeine, and I sprayed toothache spray all over my teeth and mouth. Oh dear, what a day.
I also took some effervescent Paracetamol.

I’m not feeling terrific now.

I will get summat to nibble and get some rest.
Sleep would be nice, too. I’ll put some more Phorpain Gel on the knees first, but what to use for Anne Gyna, I don’t know.

Steak in Rich Stout Gravy
With onions. Added potatoes. Gorgeous!
Milk Roll bread to soak up the delicious gravy.
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Merci Au Revoir
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Dhoti Inchy: Tue 24th December 2024

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Are you aware of this Starmer? Silly Question!
As if the Pensioner Killer would be interested!
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I’d liked to have been cleverer, astuter,
I was too busy being beaten up, & my tutor!
Then, I may have had a better life’s agenda,
Whatever is the difference between a proton…
(Not the car), and a neutral nucleon,
I think combined, they make a neutron?
Career paths that I did consider…
May I have written a book or been a surgeon?
Been a scientist, physicist or an inventor?
A scholar, maybe even the Prime Minister,
But I’ll soon lose that desire, seeing Starmer!
Remember the 11-plus, I failed that quickly,
Did I blame this on my angiocardiography?
Well, no, I had that 50 years later…
Or on the girls, who made me droolier?
The blonde-midget they used to call me.
I was about as tall as anyone’s knee,
That, I can blame on my descendency,
Uncle Arthur was only 4 foot three,
Auntie Muriel was even shorter than he,
But I grew to mind-blowing 5’3″,
Had humour and agility, also an alienability,
My failing academically drew hostility,
From those in authority, friends and family,
But the sneering stopped one day, abruptly,
I fell into the canal, in which they threw me!
I worked from 1960 until the first redundancy
That arrived when in security in 2003,
Life consisted mainly of failure & discomfiture,
I started in a house that had little furniture,
Now, in my flat with dyspraxia, & dystaxia…
Apnoea, acrasia, apepsia & aprosexia,
Determined to reach a state of ataraxia,
As I eat my meal of chips & Golonkowa…
And think of ways to terminate Starmer!
Well, someone should; he’s a pensioner killer!
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A Messy, getting-nowhere-fast day.
21:00hrs before I started this main blog.
Seizure Sandra has been busier than any other time.
Luckily, at least up to now, they have all been short (but frequent) episodes. DVT Warfarin Angel Hristina called unexpectedly. It is always a welcome, wanted, satisfying experience. ♥ Carer Cloe did the first call. Then, the second, as well, a domestic visit. Carer Sam did the middle call. Carer Christopher just finished the next-to-last call. Well, it gives him something to eat and drink. Hehehe!
With all the breaks throughout the day, I got more confused and blundered about making errors. Then, trying to sort them out the first time. This did not succeed on one of the problems, let alone the dozens I’d made). I’m going to have to rush this one from here on; sorry if any cock-ups are missed. Otherwise, I’ll never get to sleep again and never catch up on the lost head-downs. It makes things more complex with a lack of scribbled notes, and those I made are not fully legible. Here goes.

Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.

ABLUTIONING & MEDICALISATIONING

The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
I got the bowl out to stand in to soak the plates of meat and had to use the WC first.
Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Constipation Conrad was back in charge. But to the disappointment of Harold Haemorrhoids. I made a few slip-ups with the razor in my rush.
The Medicationings were made a mess of. Most of them. The groin area was cleaned a little too enthusiastically. But I stopped the bleeding eventually. Then, stupidly, I did the same on the one ailment that’s the most painful anyway, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. I lost some of the red stuff on this wet room visitation. Plenty of plasters and bandages, though. As I dried off, I felt more blood coming onto my chin. I checked in the shaving mirror and saw that my lips had cracked. They hadn’t been touched or hurt before this. Of course, now my mixed-up Doreen Dementia-owned brain has seen them; they have been irking me all day.

Got the waste bags sorted out.

Made a start on the blogging.

Nurse Hristina arrived, the highlight of the day!
The Carers called one after the other.
I was lost as to what I was going to do next.
Chloe, then Chloe again—bless her for doing the Domestics. She found that many food items in the fridge had one day’s life left, and a couple had to be thrown away. My overflowingly full fridge now looked more on the bare side! The photo taken had dematerialised and was lost in the ether!

The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.

After Carer Christopher called.
I took two shots of sunsetting.

Back on the blog prepping.
I took some snips of Cartoons to use later.
CrelDraw was incredibly slow! Oh, dear!

I pressed on, but it was taking so long. Could I continue? CorelDraw froze, and WordPress seemed to stutter at times.
I keep saying I need help.

Two later snaps of the evening sky.

Not so good.
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I had to give up.
Tired out and annoyed at things.
I’ll make a meal.
I’ll catch up in the morning. Unless The Grim Reaper calls, but that’s only obvious.
TTFN.
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Nearly midday in the morning. Lots of disaster-mode events kept me from doing this earlier.

Tuesday Continued:
After a decent nosebleed, after I’d stopped to get summat to eat. The tissues burst open the cracks on the lip, stopping the nosebleed and opening them up!
They didn’t pour with blood, but stopping them took me ages! They would start again within minutes whenever I thought I’d stopped them. Humph!

The intercom rang. I thought it might be an unknown carer, but I could not hear what he was saying.I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.

2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.
I drank a bit of blood when I was eating the meal.
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Barmier Inchy: Monday 23rd December 2024

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To relax, I tried banzai. Or was that bonsai?
I ended up in the hospital, nearly bled dry…
Oh, with a cut lip, broken nose & a blackeye,
I didn’t die, but I caught diplococci,
Starmer, he does falsify and farcify…
Pensioners, he hates, & will not fortify,
He’s not been assassinated… I wonder why?
I see food, fuel, etc. prices again rising high,
Is he honest or a crook, you can’t identify,
Until they mug or kill you or poke you in the eye,
Dictators, Oligarchs, Politicians crooked, why?
Warmongers, so many innocents die,
Life is complicated; it needs formulae,
The violence is rife; it makes my brain lignify,
MPs work creates mamihlapinatapai,
If Starmer was a bird, he’d be a magpie!
He lies, he’s greedy, creates profundify,
He’ll eventually bleed the poor dry,
To him, commoners are just succubi,
Parliament needs to defunkify,
Even if the end is nigh…
This is all likely pie-in-the-sky?
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I worked through the night, the bed untouched.
Computing and Blog-Catch-Up.

At 05:30hrs, I emptied the urine pouch. While doing so, I decided to close the computer down and run a Ccleaner session. Then turn off the computer, and get the Ablutions & Medications sorted out. But first, I did a bit of flat-titivating. I sorted all the waste bins into two bags. I’d made a lot of rubbish while nearly falling asleep for so long. But despite this, Sweet Morpheus would not let me nod off. I checked on the pickling mushrooms by tasting one of them and a piece of water chestnut. They looked okay, but the flavour told me they may pickling for another day.

I hobbled into the wet room to make a start on the Ablutionisationing and Medicalisationing.

I thought the Renauds on my feet and toes looked much easier. But I still had my reading glasses on. This photo I took proved me wrong. Yes, I was tired, but I didn’t feel weary. Does that make sense?
The feet washing in the bowl while I shaved and did the teggies went very well. And the shaving produced just 2 minuscule face nicks. I was doing well under the circumstances. The medicalisationing, apart from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, seemed to go great!
Even getting the PP’s one was less bother than usual.
SMUG-MODE ENGAGED!
Dried and dressing gown on.
My plan to get into the bed was interrupted. As I 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 watch another great 1950’s film in black & white. And drifter off into the bliss of sleep!

Carer Richard arrived. He was not in a gay mood, but I could tell he was upset about something. He didn’t laugh once during this visit. No, I told a lie! (I’m getting like Starmer!) My EQ told me he was not feeling well. I hope he feels better after he gets some kip and food inside him. Richard had the diabetic wadding on and supports on both legs again. After the lad had left, I soon drifted off into a much-needed but too short sleep.

Carer Chloe woke me up on her first call. I was deep in sleep. We chatted, but I’m not sure what it was about. I think it was Carer Chloe, my being rudely awakened. Hahaha!

I restarted watching the film. And fell off into bliss again, missing the end of the movie! Grumph! But I do need the sleep catching up on. I slept until an hour and a half later.

Carer Joanne woke me up. Bless her; she brought up my washing and kindly hung the laundered gowns for me in the hallway.

The sleep was a little longer this time, but I shot awake with Electric-Shocking-Sherida blasting away at me. She’s such a persistent ailment! I gave up on sleeping. Sherida had beaten me again! I took a photo of my beloved old-fashioned clock calendar. Nearing 15:00hrs. So I had to rise and get on the computer to start blog catching up all over again. Will it ever end? Hehe! I mustn’t moan; I think in between Carers calling. I got around five hours of sleep. But, I need more yet. On with the blog!

Two tasty-tasting cheesy-topped rolls slathered with mushroom pâté de campagne. Pickled shop-bought green-yellow tomatoes, red peppers and onions. Fish balls, cooked in the air-fryer, home-pickled water chestnuts & mushrooms. Followed by a pot of lemon fool dessert.

I found another 1950s black-and-white movie on the TV. I then settled in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.to watch it, accompanied by the five empty packets in the bin in the morning of Frazzles!

I stayed awake enough to watch half an hour of the film, and when the adverts came on, I drifted irresistibly into the land of Nod with Sweet Morpheus.
I was still in the chair 6 hours later when I woke up.

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Industrious Inchy: Sun 22 Dec 2024

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From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration,
His childhood stolen; his heart broken…
Full of fear and apprehension,
Daily failures, Mother in police detention…
Very little learning or education,
He grew up in debt and devil-ridden,
He became an expert in deprivation,
Coped with destruction, devastation…
In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection,
I got shot twice when working in protection,
Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction,
I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption,
I retired, to constant hospitalisation,
Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation,
Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion,
Struggling now on my meagre pension,
Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation!
Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation,
Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption,
Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion,
Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion,
Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression,
Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation…
My hopes & plans are mere theorisation,
I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion,
As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten,
There’s always something I’ve forgotten…
Unavoidable depths of depression…
Self-vilification & condemnation,
Self-criticism, and animadversion,
Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation,
Any length of time, sometimes in repetition,
Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion,
Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten,
No shortages of ointments and medication,
I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon!
Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken,
Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion,
Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion…
Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian,
Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen,
Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum,
Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm,
Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion!
Every day is literally an ordalian,
My flat is like a prison or garrison,
Compared to my youth there is no comparison,
Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian…
They’ll tell you not to eat bacon,
But you will, as a revengeful impulsion,
For your mental & physical distortion,
I think life is an intermission…
Or maybe an incantation?
I think the above lines were malapropian,
Best just stick with eating smoked bacon?
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06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did.
I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag.

The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?

So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.

Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results.
That, as you see, didn’t work!

Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved.
Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub…
Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!

Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. (I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I , then , where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to .
Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang!
. The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly!
I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released!
As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me!
I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no! had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning..
As I was getting my dressing gown on…
I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before.
This also baffled me!

I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk!
I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!

I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.

Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.

Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card?
Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner.
The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats.
The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t!
That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!

I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.

Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.

Carer Kimberley made the next call.

I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses.

When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!

I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures.
Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased.
About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!

Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack.
I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.

Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!

Then, I made the second snack of the day.
I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.

I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful.
At 0025hrs, I got my head down.

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May Your Maracas Remain Musical!
TTFNski
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Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

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Discussing death is not at all morbid,
I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’
I didn’t mind there was no altercation,
Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven!
Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid?
Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid…
Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid!
It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person,
Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration?
Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion?
Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen!
I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion,
Sid: You’re causing me some confusion!
Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion?
Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism,
Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism!
My faith in humankind’s incomprehension…
Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern!
At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum,
Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction,
Sid: But I’ll make this prediction…
Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven…
Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid,
Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid,
Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid!
Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid!
What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid!
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The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening.
The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia.
Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit?
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A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.

The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?

I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early.
&
It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates.
Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts.
I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit.
I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!

After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!

I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.

I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.

I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling!
When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago.
It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment!
It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding!
Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with.
I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!

The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!

Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥

I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha!
I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin…
Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so!
Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!

Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.

But I can remember making and eating the nosh!
Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added.
Yummy!
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TTFN, Everyone!
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Grouchy Inchy: Thursday 5th December 2024

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Self-Judgemental methinks?
With life, I’m becoming unaffiliated,
Mentally & physically more afflicted,
I’m not angry, but I am aggravated,
I can’t get problems solved or alleviated,
My lifestyle is far too antiquated,
My hopes & needs have been attenuated.
My thoughts & actions remain authenticated,
My failures are now expected, just accepted,
My final dream is still awaited…
To see Starmer assassinated.
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0600hrs: Stirred back into a mock-pretence of life, detached the nocturnal cater pouch from the day pouch and fumbled as fast I could out of bed, and hobbed to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne.
Released one multicoloured cement-like torpedo. It took a while. Minimal bleeding, though.

Sorted a new recovery layout for the lost, leaked-via-the-catheter urine stains on the carpet.
It’s gonna take a long time to entirely refresh it. Phew!

I limped off to the kitchenette to put the kettle on.
Taking this snap from the offer view. The blue hue view that was on offer. Hehe!

My first Christmas Card arrived via the postman. Followed shortly after by an Amazon order. The card was from Jill & Eugene.

The box contained the microwave cooking plastics that I ordered. One which had a divided content divider in the middle so as to cook and not mix together whatever you did not want to mix in the first place… Lost the word plot there! As if it was something different, me making an error, mistake, Accifauxpa or Seizure was different.

This snap relates to how I felt at the time of taking it. Darl, Dank & Depressed.
Previously, I don’t think I had a single seizure, not that I couldn’t have; I just couldn’t recall noticing any.
This changed. I felt a series of long-winded ones and have little memory of the next few hours. I found notes I’d scribbled on the notepad, but unfortunately, most of them were unreadable; I could make out a few lines, though they didn’t make the clarification of their message any more transparent.
I fear I might have placed another food order. I’ll check all the sites later when I feel more like myself.

The only thing I could read clearly was a few lines that read, “Warden Deana called to do an alarm check.” But I cannot recall this at all. That bit of writing was done so well, clearly, and readable. There’ll be a reason for that.
If I find it, I’ll let you know.

I gave up and put myself even further behind with the blog.
Then I made the daily meal: Milk Roll bread beef sarnies with no-butter butter, dabbed with Marmite, tomatoes, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, chestnuts, and Stilton Cheese. Very Nice!

A short-on-detail blog, I’m sorry to say,
It was a very confusing sort of day,
Seizures made things go diversionary,
This may read delusory, in disarray,
Many items & events were missed, I daresay.
I’ll make a mug of tea, Glengettie!
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TTFNski!
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Insular Inchy: Wednesday 27th November 2024

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06:00hrs: My body shook, and the sharp, tacky pains emitted from the blood-congealed, horribly painful rear rump, which contained .
I edged my bottie as carefully as I could manage; I could feel the cracking dried blood as I lifted my elephantine bellied body from the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.

As I rose up on my wobbly legs, I trod on the tube and nearly fell back down onto the bum! Thank heavens I didn’t – I’d probably still be crying now if I did. The Haemorhhoids were so hurtful at their most painful today.
Last night, I forgot to ask the Carer to remove the Diabetic socks from me. Then, as I was removing the night pouch from the day pouch connection, I noticed that the urine colour was far too red! I recall thinking, “What next?” It didn’t take me long to find out…I’d left the tray with the dirty plate & cutlery (but no food on it; Hehehe!) on the Carer’s table from last night’s meal. I took the things into the kitchen, the pouch plates and trays, etc., to get them all washed, emptied and sorted. To find:
The water was so cold. Then again, being left running for about 12 hours, hot water taps tend to do that. I notice these things! This was about the 4th time this week! A little gnashing and s+wearing in a self-defamatory well followed. Then, I felt the blood trickling down my inner legs as Harold’s Haemmorrids flowed freely. By the time I’d cleaned the plates and sorted the catheter pouch out, there was a blood-red puddle on the kitchenette floor, via the rear end piles, down the legs and feet, and had got into the slippers. Finding the words to describe how I felt gives me vent to using naughty language… but I’ll not do so.
I painfully manoeuvred my way to the wet room, now requiring the use of the .
After a near standard other than its great weight, first Constipation Conrad torpedo evacuation – Trotsky Terence followed up immediately after, with two spurts of mushy-spraying-all-over & making a right mess to clean up. But the thing was, another first… well, second really; The torpedo was dark brown, the first wet-mode burst was almost red, and the second splattering was Karki coloured! I was tempted to take a snap to show the Doctor. I started to strip off to get the Heammorrhoids cleaned and creamed and realised that no hot water was available. After another short burst of frustrating language and self-berating, still in pain, I went to the kitchen, thinking I could put on some saucepans of water to heat up and use…
!!! I remembered that the cooker had broken and could not be used to heat anything! The curses I used grew a little nastier now! So, I used the kettle and the slow cooker to get some hot water to clean up and carry out the needed medicalisationings.
I began to try to sort out the haemorrhoid problem for cleaning as the PPs were removed…
Joined in with Harold, spouting blood. This cannot be happening, surely?
Every single day – disasters, failures, errors!
And it wasn’t over yet…
I pride myself on being more pain-tolerant than most, having been thrown in the Canal as a youngster, being shot twice, a heart attack, and having had Peripheral Neuropathy. A duodenal ulcer, & been mugged. On the same day in 1966, I suffered a DC and then, an hour later, an AC electric shock. Then, I had a stroke. So, all these things helped me learn to cope a little easier. But today, Harold’s Haemorrhoids and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding at the same time, then Toothache Tiffany kicked off – combined with so many out-and-out , Accifauxpas, cock-ups, mistakes and a belated appearance from , I felt that I struggled to cope as well as usual.
But it wasn’t over yet!

I did suffer with fetching hot water to and from the kitchen, but at least I avoided an Accifauxpa of dropping any.
Smug-Mode, almost Adopted – but I thought it best not to!

Carer Richard arrived as I made a brew of Glengettie tea, which was when my first of the day arrived. I think I did a lot of waffling, but I am unsure. I forgot to ask Richard to take off my socks for me. Minutes later, a carer and the NHS district nurse arrived. Nice!

The Carer departed to come back later and left me with the nurse. No complaints here! Embarrassingly, she checked Little Inchies fungal lesion, then Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I think I explained that I’d cleaned them up, but she was not impressed. She is going to order two new creams for me to use. She was in a rush, and I can’t remember what she told me about which cream was for which ailment now. Grumph!

I finally got on the computer. I’m miles behind again.

On the right, I took three shots this morning before finding the hot water tap in the kitchenette had run cold. But it didn’t bother me, naturally… I suppose one could say I’m such a happy-go-lucky, cheerful bundle of joy, a petite young scallywag.
On the other hand, if I have another day like today, who can say? Sob!
The rain came down a little later. Not as much as t blood did at various times today; as I was writing this, I had a monster -sneeze. Now, I’ve a bloody nose! Knowing how affectionate, supportive and jealous my selection of ailments are to each other, I was not in the least bit surprised when, an hour later, I dunked an LU cookie in a mug of tea… it took ages to stop the tooth bleeding.

I suppose I’m just lucky?

After the next Carer arrived, Carer Kara came to see me. As if to prove if I had a seizure when Richard called or not, I found the morning tablets box filed on the Carer’s desk. I could not remember if I’d taken some this morning or had missed yesterday morning’s dosage?
As I thought hours ago, what’s next?

Wholemeal rolls, Stilton cheese, red onions, pork loin, & air-fried potatoes. With loads of sweet baby pickled beetroots.

I packed up early on the darned computer. So tired and fed up with the problems it was giving me. But could I sleep? No! Not a chance in Hell! I tried the hospital bed, but the way the nurses left it after changing the positions so often to try to get the catheter tube back in Little Inchie it was just too uncomfortable. I spent over an hour adjusting it to how I got it, which was restful and took hours, the last time the nurses had been, to get semi-sleep-on-able.
No chance tonight. So I returned to the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. But had acquired a new back pain from all the trying out the bed, and depression took over.
Carer Promise did the last two calls. During this, I didn’t move out of the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
Just laid there feeling as if I’d been given a pep-pill and failing to fall asleep at all! I must have been trying to sleep for about 10 hours. Rising at 06:00hrs, feeling rather grotty, suffering worse than ever.

HUMPH!

TTFN!
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Infoless Inchy: Wed 20th Nov 2024

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I’d like to relate a little anecdotage,
I’m losing my grip on life in my dotage!
My financial situation can be called in arrearage,
The medics can’t mend my wee wee appendage!
I have no willpower, respect or appanage,
So, I consulted a Sherwood archaeologist…
He dismissed me as being human sullage,
He checked on my lineage,
Suggested I go live in a hermitage,
Although a wizard, he was more like a hucksterage,
My nerve rash started getting blotchier,
He said: I know what’s up with yer…,
Like many old farts, you’re angry at Starmer!
Yer blood’s boiling at Keir and your bank manager,
There’s no one at home to give you a blether,
And look at the state of the bloody weather!
I can see yer at the end of your tether…
Yer cookers’ broke, standing in yer corridor…
Can’t cook or pissed, you’ve lost your composure,
Problems with your heating & the computer,
Cancer, Renauds, toothache & painful catheter,
Starmer, Rachel Reeves, the HMG chancellor,
Yer feelin’ sorry for yersen, yer silly old dodderer!
Doreen Dementia depresses yer,
The solution is available for you,
For £500, I’ll reveal what it is, too!
Go home and think it over, and come back Tuesday at two.
So I went back all punctual, expecting a natter and brew…
They told me he’d died last night on the loo!
More dreams like this, & I don’t know what I’ll do!
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I was up at 04:00hrs to give myself plenty of time to shower, shave, and complete another visit to the Porcelain Throne in time for food delivery from Ocado. A Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation, and all over within 20 seconds of getting my tight little bottie settled on the plastic WC seat. Splush… all done!
This ablution session took me over two hours, which was nothing unusual. I was all done abluting and started to get the medicationalisationings done.
Unfortunately, after yesterday and the five nurses’ attempts to get the tube back in the bladder via poor little Inchie, He was very delicate this morning. So, ointmentating the fungal lesion was even more painful than ever. It brought tears to my eyes!
But I got that done, and then I Phorpain gelled the cartilages of Chloe and Carole. Then, I did Arthur Itis’s left and right patellas with the same gel. Olive oiled the ears, put the
Blepha gel in the left eye, and Chloramphenicol drops into the right eye. (Well, most of it ended up down my chest and on the floor!)
I got some Germolid ointment on my bottie to help soothe Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Always a pleasure doing that. Then, the Acne & Excema medications are under and on the arms, the flabby drooping belly, the head, and the neck. Yes, it’s spreading again!
Next, congestion relief was sprayed onto the nasal area, and the Anti-Bleed swabbed when that cleared. The Nozohaem was kept handy, but it was not required.
Then, a miracle occurred!
I could not understand why it was so easy this morning, but I still felt smug when I put on the fresh Protection Pants, pulled them up, and adjusted them without catching the catheter netting or anything—in less time than it took me to take the old ones off! Brilliant! I still can’t believe it myself! Did I dream it or have a mini-seizure?

I cleaned up the wet room, took the waste bag and the used catheter bag to make up a larger one, and saw it was only 06:10 hrs! I’d done all that in just over two hours. But, being me, doubts lingered that I may have got the starting time or waking up time wrong. This took the edge off of my temporary period of almost glee and pride.

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COMPUTER NOT UP TO SCRATCH TODAY
I took this snap just before going to the wet room. You can’t see the snow in this one, but it’s stubbornly time-melting.
Very sad about all the photos I took, I can tell you! Heartbreaking.
I’ve lost the compunction… is that the right word? I’ll look it up… No that’s the wrong word altogether. I’ve lost interest in even trying to get this blog done. It’s already gone 20:00hrs, and I’m only up to here with it. I keep trying to get the photos on, but it takes so long using the Ccleaner that my pride and heart are not in it. For the first time ever as well. Still, it’s been a busy day again, interruptions, mistakes and the damned mini-seizures. I had a lot of them today, two when one carer was here and another with a different carer. I’m fuddled.

There was a mammoth cock-up again with the food orders. I would have sworn that I made one order for today and another with a different shop for next Wednesday. First, the Ocado delivery arrived. Then, this evening, the Tesco order arrived! No photos can be saved again, yet it let me do these above, then died on me again.

The computer let me upload these tonight, and later it saved them. Huh!
I think technology, ill health, mental & physical are getting too much for me.

Half of what took place needn’t have bothered me. I know that I had a carer doing the financial checks today, but who it was and two mini-seizures during the visit have left me well-baffled.

I’ve just run my neighbour and Angel of Mercy Jenny. I ordered cream cakes next Wednesday, and I now have two boxes. Her hubby, my mate Frank, kindly came up to collect them, along with a few bits that I would never eat, and they were short-dated. So, at least they have not been wasted and got to where they were intended for. I’d be lost without Jenny & Frank.

Sorry, but I’ve had enough today.
I’ll see how things go in the morning.
Fingers crossed.
I’ll make something to eat. I might even photograph it… but will the computer allow me to file it, or even load them?
Feeling dejected, that was the word!

Hope to see you in the morning.

Well, it’s evening now on Thursday.
But I did get some photos saved.

The 2nd delivery
I am a fool!

Tomatoes, potatoes, chestnuts, and chestnuts, with two really-filled ham rolls, with no-butter butter, & a dab of Marmite.
The potatoes were not very good.

Evening all! The snow melting.
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TTFN & Have a great day!