Diabetes insipidus

Inchie: Tue 17 March 2026. Bloodied (3) & Wee’d on (2).

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Such a busy, calamity-ridden day today.
I have just got around to creating this blog, and it is Wednesday, 18 March 12:30hrs. And has started as an even busier day. Confusion reigns. Hopes destroyed, Brainbox baffled. A smidge fed-up.
BUT, I MUST CONCENTRATE ON TODAY’S BLOG
Try to avoid chronological and fact mix-ups. Shortage of time means cutbacks on detail again.
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05:00hrs: I leapt out of the bed, yodelling as I removed the Catheter night bag. Then the innards demanded that I attend the
ASAP. So, I did. The flow began, the flow continued, on and on and on… During the longest ever flow of semi-liquid I’ve ever had, I remembered I had a food delivery arriving. I thought I’d mention this to anyone who knows me and my conditions, so I can brag, for once. 👍🏼 Hehe!

Into the kitchen to take some snaps of the view on offer.
Not very good efforts, but I did my best. Then washed the pots, left in the sink from last night’s evening meal. Then back to the
. Where was it all coming from? Got my ablutions done while in the wet room. Cleaned the teggies first, then had a wet shave (3 cuts, little nicks really).
Cleaned and medicated or Little Inchies bleeding fingal lesion. Lost a good bit of blood this time.   
A third visit, this time, Trotsky Terence was overcome by Constipation Colin. A complete reversal. So much so, the next thing was Harold-Haemorrhoids bleeding! But today’s habit of bleeding had only just started.

The memory notes are getting harder to decipher now; from here on, they mysteriously grow smaller. Some of them were unreadable. I made no guesses. I just skipped them.

As I was making a brew of Co-op 99 tea, guess what I needed again? The ! Yet another turnaround, back to Trotsky Terence mode! And a lot of it. I am beginning to worry about these changes so regularly, and on the same day. The blood had gone onto the Kaghoule, and I had to change it. Putting it in the already full laundry bag.

08:10hrs. The Carer arrived. Checked the ankles and, as he changed the Catheter to make it less painful, noted blood on the PPs from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. And the new scar on the Catheter leg. He creamed it and photographed it.
Just to prove that I am a bit of a high-quality, dimwitted twit, I lost my reading glasses. I did a thorough search, but it proved unsuccessful. Which is me all over.

Carer Mizra called to tell me the extra hours start this week. Offered to make a meal, but I thanked him, not feeling hungry at all. I explained the problems with the butterfly catheters. He said he would sort it later on in the week. 

The blood sample taker arrived, and while she was here, Carer Rashid arrived. A smidgeon of confusion between the three of us cost me dearly.
She did not press and hold the cotton wool on long enough, and a few minutes later, I felt the warm liquid, formerly known as blood, as it trickled down my arm on the inside and spread over the new dressing gown. By the time I’d got it off, unaided, I may add, blood was all over my arm, leg and right foot. Mostly, though, on the new dressing gown. This is the third dressing gown today, and the second kaghoule that I’ve had to take off and put into the laundry bag! Lucky? Me? No, more Accifaupas to come yet, the day is not done…

Carer Ejaz sneaked this photo of yours truly, the luckiest man alive. I was battling with the computer to get it to respond to my requests. So, I took one back of him as he was making his report of this visitation. A handsome young brute of a lad. Looks like a male model to me. Jealous? Me? Well, maybe just a little tiny, weeny bit. Haha!

I took this snap from the kitchenette window, of the slowly darkening skies. Then had to hastily shoot off, yet again, to the . And would you believe it, was back in charge of the evacuation process? With a well-watery squirting out session that pebble-dashed the porcelain, and bounced back on my bottom! I don’t suppose you needed to hear that. Sorry. Took me an aeon to get cleaned up again.

I went to make a rare-today mug of Glengettie, as my eyes grew tireder and blurrier as the evening dawned, followed by, and I finally got on WordPress.

I found the unreadable notes and gave up until tomorrow, with the idea of writing a blog. However, I did make a start on the Ode, using MS Word. After an hour or so, I realised that I had a wet right leg. I investigated the Catheter, but all seemed okay. Puzzled, I put it down to sweat and carried on. 
After a while, my groin felt wet, so I investigated again.
ARGGH!
It was the new Catheter the nurse fitted, with the top connector near the groin, that came off this time! By now, I realised the slipper sock and foot were soaked. Lucky? Me?
ARGGH!

TTFN

Inchie Today: Monday 16th March 2026

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0630hrs: I removed the nocturnal Catheter pouch and bounded out of my bed… Well, to be more accurate, painfully slowly got my legs on the floor and did my balance exercises. This indicated care was needed in standing and hobbling about this morning. To err on the safe side, I sat down on the bed and gave it about 10 minutes before trying again. Much better.
I picked up the night bag and changed plans as the innards indicated an urgent need, which was virtually on the way, to use the services of the Porcelain Throne.
I made it in time, but only just. As I bent to connect my bottom to the plastic lid, the orange-coloured torrent began flowing. Messy again. I used that much toilet roll, the bum was sore as Hell by the time I’d cleaned things up. And the Anusol ointment tube was almost empty after use. A quick wash, teggies, olive-oiled the earholes, and hobbled off to make a brew of Glengettie tea.
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Took a shot from the kitchenette window. I dropped the milk getting it out of the fridge, a carton, so at least I didn’t have glass to clean up again. Splashes of its spurting milk, I reckon, were found on every wall, counter, and cabinet. Not to mention my dressing gown, legs, slippers and the floor. I now have a rather full laundry bag, after changing clothes and cleaning up. Noticing that I’d missed some milk between the cooker and the cabinet, I got a paper towel in and bent down a little to reach the stray milk…  I hit my lip on the corner of the cabinet top. Thus, started, and a cut lip. 

So, nothing unusual was happening here, yet. 

I took a snap of the end of the car park from the balcony. However, I feel I’d taken this earlier and already posted it? Hum?

A new Carer, Rashid, arrived. Helped with foot medicating and cleaning. Offered to make breakfast and a cuppa, but I’d had a cuppa and would not eat breakfast. Though I may have some bikkie dunking in Glengettie or Co-op 99 tea sessions.
I tried to get Rashid to call the Falls Team for me, but it toook a while. I thanked them for coming and agreed to their chosen day and time. Asked him to arrange for some more Anusol.

Two Nurses came in. They were going to remove the old and put in a new Catheter contraption for me.
See silly Ode. We had a laugh and a natter as they did it. It didn’t take them long this time. They walloped me on the bed and set about me. (Nice!) They got the tube back on the first try. Nice ladies.

A very interesting few lines on the memory pad here. As best I can read or guess my own handwriting & version of shorthand. Email frugle dank jen away. Purt cal on LL. Cado ord made. Must ring HRP. Nost. 1620 Ejaz bak, in trup cold happy.

Ejaz arrived as I was taking these two snaps of the late-day skies from the kitchen windows. Medications issued, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Back-Pain-Breanda were both  Phorpain-gelled. Before leaving, Ejaz helped me get the nosh prepared, and as he went, the lad reminded me not to leave the stove on or the tap running. 
The chips were slightly undercooked, and the chicken sausages were soft and served with garden peas. This appeased a little. Then, as I left the things in the sink to soak overnight, I took a quick point-and-snap of the offer view. It was not until Tuesday that I got around to dealing with this blog, and I realised how it had come out… Artistic?
I swear there were no greens, light blues or yellows when I took the shot. Admittedly, I did it quickly without lining up as I usually would. I don’t think the moon was out either; then again, the moon doesn’t shine like that, does it?
Ah, I see repetitive sorts of lighting shapes. By Jiminne, I think I’ve worked it out, and who to thank for the artisticness . Or, with a possibility of playing a part. But the last two come under the umbrella and lack of control of  so I needn’t have said all that.

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The Nurses’ Input Helped!
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Overall, a better day… but I’m not
getting Smug, for I now know…
What will happen to me on
Monday… Much loss of blood, via
three separate Accifauxs. 
Yes, back to usual tomorrow!
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🌸 TTFNski each 🌸
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Inchie Today: Sunday 15th March 2026

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This will be a little bare, sorry. Time rules.

Morning views

I found another piece of
the jar I dropped & broke.

Carer’s medicines table

Another mystery,
Why did I take this?
Did I take this?
When?

Evening meal, soup
and bread again.
Oh, I do live well!

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Note that due to time going so fast,
being so far behind with the blog,
and time spent with the comput…
No, no, No Moaning!
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Inchie Today: Saturday 14th March 2026

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I thought I’d start this long-delayed blog off with a selfie that I took this morning. Yes, well, I may have been fibbing a smidgeon there. Look at me then, no hearing aids, had hair, had teeth, no glasses, skinny, not obese, full of hope. No electricity, no running hot water, 1d gas meter, crumbling walls, dimples, pimples, seems I was as tall as nine bricks… 
Memory Moments over, on with the blog.
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I woke up at 06:30hrs, bounded out of the bed, jumped over the recliner while taking off my night Catheter bag, landing on the recliner and bounced with a double somersault to the balcony doors, whipped open the door, and took this snap of the much flooded end car park while yodelling good morning to the world…
Oh, all right then, back to reality. But it’s a terrible thing, that’s reality, I prefer fantasy. Hehe!
I’ll start again, it’s not pretty…
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I had to force my aged, gargantuan flobby-body out of the bed, cause somehow I’d tangled the Catheter tube, and little Incies’ fungal lesion was bleeding more than usual. To the wetroom to clean things up, do my teggies and have a quick wash.
Taking this snap on the right of the end of the car park’s bigger-than-normal mudslide. They need to put wellies on to get to the car.
Off to the wetroom, hobbling casually, and the moment my bottie was over the porcelain as I was bending down to land on the plastic seat…
Whoosh, splatter, all done!
But, it wasn’t yet. Six times I had to visit today, then again when I’d got settled into the bed, get up for one yet again! My bottie is sore.

Got on the computer, and remembered to check o my NHS site to see what they have put about my tumble on Wednesday. As usual, it kept signing me out every two minutes if I didn’t enter anything. Well, I can’t remember the three links it takes to get into it, or what it is called. Humph! After getting signed out twice and having to get an email with the login number each time. I thought, I’ll try one again, one last time. No, can’t find anything. Swift visit from Carer Ejaz, Phorpain gelled the right shoulder. Medications given.
I took two snaps of the sun coming over the back left earlier, but forgot to upload them. Amazing that I should forget anything, innit?

I got on the computer with trepidation because I knew how far I was behind, and it would take me all that was left of the day to complete it (Friday’s blog). It did.

Foggy outside, usually a sign this time of year that the sun will come out later on.
I found another piece of glass from the broken jar.

I was having problems reading my own writing again. I must stop rushing and remember to write larger. I just can’t understand why I don’t, or can’t do this. The notes start all clear and so easy to read, indeed distinct. But as the day goes on, Whoopsiedangleploppery, Fred’s Frustrations, computer problems, health problems, Memory-Mangling-Malcom, Arthur Itis, Fractured Knee Frank, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Shaking Shaun, Anne Gyna, Struggling as my eyesight fades and fogs later on the day, Concentration-Crippler-Crippen, Backpain Brenda, Seizure-Sandra, Toothache-Tiffany, Ingrowing-Toenail-Tony, Earache Erasmus, Stuttering Stephany, WordPress headaches, Excel bother, CorelDraw failings, Glaucoma Gladys, Letters, Texts, Instructions & Emails that I cannot read, Deep Dank Depression Darius, Ménière’s disease, Reflux Roger, Replacement Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine, Hydrocephalus-Hilda, and Catheter-Contraption-Carol.  Neurotransmitters Dying, Lymphorrhea Leslie,, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Premordid-Cognitive- Impairment-Inchie, the brains TBI, or any of the other hassles, in any permutation, arrive daily to Woodthorpe Court Flat 72, with the mysteries of the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again! 
Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer?

Late in the day, the sun did get through. When I went into the kitchen to take this shot, I was surprised it had got out. Very bright, it blinded me while taking this snap for about five minutes. Cataract Katie was most annoyed at me. Heheh

I was pleasantly surprised when my Angel called to see me, Jenny. 🤎 She thought it best not to give me her old mobile phone yet, while I was having so much hassle with so many things at the same time. Very perceptive of her. She knew that the extra tension it would cause me learning a new mobile & how it worked. She is so discerning and pragmatic. And lovely with it.

Caught the sun on her way down, with two oil paintings, like photographs around, I think 2000hrs. So much I cannot read on the notepad, hope I’ve not missed of anything important on this blog.
I must try to avoid the usual inane waffle. It’s too late now. Haha! 

Tonights Meal
Baked beans. flavoured with Gung Ho sauce, water chestnuts, cocktail sausages, and Keiklbasa chicken sausages. With some Milk Roll soft bread for dunking in the juices.
A Rating of 8.3/10

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Tara!
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Inchie: Fri 13 Mar 2026. ‘Orrible Day

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Inchies True Tales of Woe
For Friday 13th March 2026
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More than a few to tell of in truth,
It was more horseshit than honeydew,
Computer problems, more than a few,
So many, I didn’t know what to do,
Lost all the work that I’d struggled to do,
I genuinely thought a stroke was due…
Panic alarm – sent a paramedic crew,
To the hospital? I didn’t want, no no, no…
I had to prevent this somehow,
Said I was feeling better, very slow,
Tried to show I had some go, gungho…
Readings taken, concern, a verbal shiatsu,
A long Q&A session & then powwow,
Medical history, they did review.
No hospital – my wish they did imbue,
I apologised for causing their perdue, 
I ended up in the hospital again, and I didn’t want to,
They’d send me to a home, I foreknew!
So they let me stay in my flat, chateau,
Filled their online NHS surview,
Left a paper on what I should do,
The next day, I penned this little clerihew.
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0645hrs: Sensed out the ailments to be wary of as I lay in bed. I didn’t feel as hazy as I normally am, brainwise. But I knew my history of feeling smug always turns to a disaster of some kind, so I avoided going into a Smug-Mode. It didn’t help; the day turned out to be my worst one of the week! Grangnangles & Globspit!

I got the nocturnal Catheter pouch removed from the day bag. Went through the balance-checking routine, decided it was safe enough to cautiously hobble to the kitchenette to check on the taps, doors, and electrics, just in case I’d done it again and left doors open, the cooker on, or a tap running. All seemed clear. So, I took a snap of the view and got the kettle on. The snap I took later escaped into the ether from the camera’s SD card. I went onto the balcony to take a shot of the flats’ end car park. I got the idea that we may have had a drop of rain overnight. I might be wrong. Hehe! Well, what a change. I missed the agony that Constipation Konrad would have given me, but of course, it was a pleasure to miss it. But I’m glad I got extra toilet rolls in, because of Trotsky Terence’s evacuations.

I made a strong brew of Glengettie tea as Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Socks taken off, foamed and creamed the toes and ankle. Fresh socks back on. Phorpain gelled the back and the right Shoulder.
Made a list of calls needing to be made on Monday. Doctors, ask for a stronger pain gel and Catheter supplies. The lady from the falls team will confirm the date. If I remember, I’ll ask him to do that one tomorrow.

Then it started! The computer froze up, leaving me with no option but to unplug it and see what happens when I reboot.
A most disconcerting action to have to take. 
I’d had to leave it there to empty my overfull Catheter bag. Then empty, wash & refresh the jug. 
When I returned, it was back online, but not letting me type anything in Google, Excel, Word, or CorelDraw actions that required text input.
Meaning I could not access any help tips online.
So, boldly, I was able to close it down with the mousse. I decided to wait half an hour or so before rebooting the computer.
During which the food delivery arrived. Coffee for Nurses and Jenny & Frank.
Cordial to flavour the spring water. Soft Milk- Roll sliced bread, cheese spread, Spring water, and soda water. And a variety of lemon desserts. I also got some seaweed.
I got it stored away and went back to the computer. I can’t deny it, with a little dread. Restarted it, and was able to type again. So, I knew the cause could not have been via the keyboard, but I had no idea if I’d caught a wrong combination of keys, as shaking often comes on when I’m typing. Or serving up a meal, or handling anything and dropping it, or cannot let go of it, shaving, cleaning my few remaining teeth, or at any time.
When it worked again, I refused to feel a Smug-Mode. The first thing I did was research my problem on Google. Then copy the pages and save them for if (when) it happens again.
It was as if I knew what would happen around a couple of hours later, after I’d restarted and after much work had been done.
As clear as mud to me.

As expected, I did the same thing, so I consulted the saved advice as above. Another age lost trying to work out what I could gain from the advice given. Not a lot. No choice but to turn it all off and try again. So, I did.
And it worked again… but after a few minutes…
Now I was baffled again as to what to do.
And getting very annoyed and depressed, the self-loathing over my incompetence flowed.
Years ago, I wouldn’t have blinked an eye and sorted it – well, that’s what I thought, which made my mood deteriorate further, and my temper boil.
I think this overwroughtness caused what then happened later. 
I turned everything off and back on, and it seemed to be working again. But I wasn’t…
I had what nowadays seemed a natural seizure, but I don’t think it was. As I came out-of-it, the acidity upflux was not there – replaced by a super lack of balance and dizzier than I have ever been.
Well, apart from when I had the stroke. Which made me think, in all honesty, that I was having another stroke. That is why I pressed the Alert Button.
I was finding it very hard to mouth words. I could make noises, but words were at random. Difficult for the lady in the control room. Who stayed with me on the line until the paramedics arrived. Thank You!
I have no memory of the first few minutes. As I came out of whatever had gripped me, I saw two paramedics and had a heart thingy on my arm. 
Q&A’s, checks and I was talking, but stutteringly and repeatedly, I think. My cogniscence improved so quickly that I kept apologising for pressing the alarm, and wasting their time… I think. I was certainly thinking I ought to.

I have little remembrance of Carer Ejaz’s visit at all.
I think someone called on the phone, but I don’t know who, if anyone did, or what it was about. Yet I’m sure I was feeling a lot better, and getting my soup meal made when Ejaz came. I think.
It was not such a good effort. But it was tasty enough; the problem was that I put in the vegetarian bacon bits as Ejaz arrived. So by the time I got the meal in the oven, ten minutes was enough to make the ‘bacon bits’ go all soggy. I ate it, though.

As recommended by Ejaz, I deserted the computer and got my head down early. Taking this snap of the night as I washed the pots. The bed seemed so welcoming and comfortable tonight. Zzz!
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Inchie: Thursday 12th March 2026

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I stirred at 0300hrs, passed a trumpet-worth blast of wind that hurt the haemorrhoids, and fell back into a deep sleep. Returning to semi-life again at 0645hrs. I lay there, awaiting the brain’s activation. It obligingly did so within around ten minutes. I was sorry it did. For fears and worries about what the day would bring, greedily controlled my immediate thoughts on the prospects that theoretically lay ahead for me.
Would the nurse arrive to check the hand? (No)
Would things work out right with the double laundry we have to get done? (No – but help from Jenny, my Angel🤎, made it work), this time.
Must try to make my memory notes bigger. Failed!
Ask Ejaz to send an order for Catheter equipment using the Vyne email. Forgot to!
It was a Thursday with a difference because we had to do Wednesday’s laundry, cleaning, etc., as no Carer arrived yesterday. No information received as to why. Not that it mattered, really.
Onwards: Many things will be missed, and some out of chronological order. It was a confusing and hectic day. I didn’t get around to starting this blog until Friday morning. Meaning my Friday blog is already way behind before Friday arrived. Deep Depressing Darius ruled the day. High-Mood-Horis was cheering me up a smidgeon now and then, such as when Jenny saved situations with her usual polite aplomb. And the tumble I took was eventually eased when Ejaz returned to get me up.
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I removed the nocturnal Catheter pouch and made my way speedily, well hobbling steadily, to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne before the enthusiastic buildup in the innards saw daylight.
The soggy, yet lumpy H-bomb shapes that were evacuated consisted of four bombs, each one breaking up on contact with the water. I don’t suppose you needed to know that. But with me having a regular, almost daily, different class of evacuation material, it is a curiosity to me. The Doctor is interested in this. She’s not concerned about my Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete, Sandra’s Seizures, Fractured-Knee-Frank, Lymphorrea- Leslie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Back-Pain-Brenda, Cararact-Katie, Mechanical-Aorta-Alfred, Little-Inchys- Fungal Lesion, Harolds-Haemorrhoids-Bleeding, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, Diabetes-David, Cartilage- Chloe, Colin-Cramps, Glaucoma-Gladys, or about Ingrowing toenail Unguis-Incarnate-Iris. 

I took some kitchenette window snaps. The first one to the right, where tha rising sunshine from the back of the flats had not reached yet.
Then a photo to the left.
Or was that the other way around? Either way, they show a contrast of the views on offer.
Friday, doing this blog
Suddenly, I could not write anything on this blog. Then I got the Task Manager thingy come up. I couldn’t even write in Google to ask it for help. Panic-Mode was on the way. I knew this as my lips twitched when about to go into a seizure or panic. So the Carer said.
I turned everything off, losing work in Excel, CorelDraw and WordPress. Spirits dwindled. Especially as I thought I was doing alright.
Back to the usual cross-my-fingers, turn off the computer, give it ten minutes, and reboot.
Gotten Himmel, working again. Phew!
I immediately went on Google to search for help on this problem, copied them into CorelDraw and saved them for the next time this problem arises, in case one of them does not work.
You can tell with my mental problems, I pray I’ll never need to try these. Some look easy, but most of them leave a brain haze & fog in an instant.

Overjoyed, I opened the programs and started catching up by redoing the work I hadn’t been able to save.

Half an hour later, it started again, no writing, no saving work I nearly got caught up on… Shit!
I instinctively closed it down again, too nervous to try any of the advice from confusing Google. Not their fault, it’s me who panics with guidelines and instructions. When I do not know the meanings of the terms. This time, I had a job, or did something wrong, cause choosing ‘Power’ got an unfathomable load of, I think, code waffle. Panic increased; had I ruined everything? Had I pressed the wrong key option?
Had I had to unplug it to turn it off, surely this would have harmed the computer? Not as much as the computer has harmed me. Hehehe! 
Why did I write that laugh? 
Wunderbar! It came back on,
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Now I have to miss off loads of things, ’cause I’m sure it’s going to do it again. This blog is my lifeline to the herd of my followers. Both of them!
It gives me freedom of a sort.

Morning car park shot

More space in the balcony now that Jenny
has made use of the wheelchair.

Work was lost when the computer went down. Sob!

Ejaz came to do the belated Laundry & cleaning visit.
Jenny helped by asking us to ring her when the laundry went in, and saying she would move it into the dryer and gather it. Ejaz can collect it, or she will bring it up to the flat for me. Bless her, she’s so kind to me.
I thought that when Ejaz went down, I’d crack on with the computer. I was concentrating on this, and realised that Ejaz was not here. He was back from putting the laundry, and had been mopping the kitchen floor. I thought he was in the wetroom, and went to check…

I’ve no idea how or why, one minute I was between the bed and the non-working recliner on my way to the door… then found myself face down on the floor. I’m certain I felt hitting the bed, then the chair, then the floor. So it was not a seizure; otherwise, I would not have remembered it. I could not manoeuvre myself out to get to the recliner to drag myself up. I felt something in my pocket as I fumbled about trying to move; it was my mobile. So I rang Ejaz, but there was no answer. 
Then rang Jenny, no answer. But didn’t worry cause wherever Ejaz was, he’d be back soon. And he was.
He hauled me up on my feet, which was no mean feat.
Injuries? Very slight. I’d cracked the scab on the hand injury and scratched the leathery lymphorrhea skin on the right leg. I think the ideal place to take a tumble was between the bed and the chair!

Biscoff bickies, hard, but I can manage them when they have been dunked in a mug of strong Glengettie or Cooperative 99 tea. Soft mini-roll cakes, Polish chicken sausages. Cheesey nibbles, Ketchup, & potato soup. Mouthwash, hot dogs, grapefruit drink, seaweed crispies, no-butter butter, and soft goats cheese.

Teatime photo

A poor photo of the potato & onion soup.
I added some liquid smoke and vegetable crispies, which were nice and soft after being warmed up.

It took me three attempts to get a decent photo in the very windy, rainy conditions outside.

The first two still looked a little artistic.


TTFN 

Inchie: Wednesday 11th March 2026

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I finally forced my rhinoserous-like body out of the bed. I immediately felt this was a mistake. Back-Pain Brenda had been joined by electric shock-giving Neurotransmitter-Neutraliser-Nigel, in the back as well! It didn’t matter to Nigel what I was doing; he sent stabbing pains at random and is still ending them.
I took some morning view photographs. I chose the ‘through window’ option. But forgot to take the flash off. Hence, some interesting artistic shots capture the reflection of the inside of the kitchen interior. Haha!

Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley had gone all temperamental, and if the wind blows on the right shoulder, I know about it. All in all, I was in a bit of a state. I pressed on and got the night Catheter bag off, and went to make a brew, but diverted to the Porcelain Throne. Not watery as it has been, but soft, gooey and sticky, and all over on one long fill-the-bowl session.
washed and teeth done, and panic reigned; Had I turned the tap off in the kitchen? I hobbled with Wooden-Walking-Stick-Walter to the kitchenette… That was the end of my plans to have a stand-up wash and shave; the hot water was no longer hot. I’d done it again!
After some self-lambasting name-calling, mock spitting, and cursing, 
I took some more morning views. Without the flash this time. Oh, dear, another cock-up! I’ve put the same photo on twice and deleted the other to save space.
Without doubt, I’m losing my grip more than usual today. Hot tap left on, photo failures, caught the hand scratch on the drawer yet
again. Jenny put a plaster on my hand, bless her. Knocked a little bit of the scab off. Along with the new back pain, poor Jenny was coming up to meet Ejaz, and he hadn’t come or answered when she phoned him, likely with a client. 

The days were late to light up, but it soon became sunnier at times. And Jenny and I had a little chinwag. She is such an understanding Angel. I’d be lost without her advice and help. 🌷🎀💟 Jenny asked me to ask Ejaz to phone her when he arrives to arrange another meeting, about setting up her old mobile phone she is gifting me, with Ejaz.

Rather dramatic, I thought. Then thought I may have put it on, and decided to check. This is when the computer shut down all of its own… Or I did something unintended or silly that made it shut down. without realising I had made another faux pas. I didn’t realise that I had, if I had. If you follow me? I’m struggling to! Feeling a fool comes so naturally to me.

I got the computer back on without any hassle and checked whether I had used the snap of the clouds on the left in yesterday’s blog. I had! But being a pareidolias delight, I thought I’d put on bigger anyway. I can see a face with eyes, nose & mouth. And a rocket of some kind is launching. What can you see?

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I CANNOT BELIEVE IT!
I got this email this afternoon from Oligarchal British Gas. The one that has not allowed Ejaz to get through to them due to a lack of signing on details. Cut us off over four attempts to speak to a human, at least. Ejaz has tried four times to get through to them about the very same issue. He took photos of the meter, and the instructions given to him on how to read it did not work at all…

The last time I spoke with them, the lady said, “Would you like me to send someone to check the meter?”
I replied: Yes, that is what we’ve been asking all the time, that would be super, thank you! Being oligarchs who charge £2 per minute to use their 0330 number on a landline, and so much more for a mobile. With a connection charge of £2-£6, depending on your suppliers’ charges. Then, surprisingly cut you off regularly. They are greedy and do not listen. Where are their call centres? Outer Mongolia?
Can  I get any help? NO! Ejaz tried his best, bless him, but the ‘Engineer’ never arrived. Now I get a semi-threatening email and am pissed off with them!
No one can touch them!
If anyone out there in the bloshere can help me, please, please, I beg of you, help me! Citizens’ advice, maybe? If not, and I get massive charges and the power cut-off, I’ll be calling the Samaritans. Not that they accept any blame or responsibility. Oligarch don’t give a toss!
It’s just the same with Liberty Global-owned Virgin (Crap) Media, EE, BT & O2. ARRRGH!
The Bast… Naughty People!
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I knew and know that situations like this are being imposed on the proletariat, the elderly and the mentally disturbed… on anyone gullible and powerless to resist, every day. 
It’s the style of these Oligarchs, grubstakers, plutocrats, securities-brokers, stinking-rich,  plutocratic, tycoonocrats, zillionaires potentates, magnates, nabobs, deep pockets fat cats, moguls, and Croesuses, Trumpites, the sympathy-poor, immoral, greedy, fatcats know no other way. The morally-inept,   Mammonistic, parsimonious, unprincipled, pennypinching, penurious, pleonectic, money-oriented,  bloodsucking, extorting, profit-motivated, flimflam, full of hokum, hardasses, Smoke & mirrors experts, facts and figures distorters and blurers, mumbo-jumbo answer-givers just can’t help themselves. And we, the downtrodden, poor, pathetic lower classes, can do nothing about their bullying, lying, hiding from their responsibilities, defending their call centre robots, cutting you of on the telephone: then the telephonic companies they own can make a fortune as they charge a connection fee for each 0300 number, and you should reag what Google said about how much they charge a minute, the cheapest is on a landline £2 to £6 a minute, mobiles start at £6 a minute. So they are in a win-win situation, making unkept promises.
I find all this fiendish & oppugnant.
In HM Forces, I was a good marksman, of course, my eyesight is going now, and how could I afford to get a gun and ammunition?  
Even if I could, who would I shoot to kill, to get revenge? You see the frustration these uncaring, disinterested, insouciant, unconcerned, nonchalant, amphibological, clandestine, lying, uncouth, slithery-sidestepping overcharging, unnice, compassion-dismembered, supercilious oinks bring to the underdogs? If I could shoot their employees, it would not bother the oligarchs one bit.
The CEO of Liberty Global was paid $640m per year, with an undisclosed guaranteed bonus and company shares. How can a pensioner get revenge?
Anyone with advice? Please help.
I looked up who the CEO of British Gas is.
Chris O’Shea (born 23 October 1973) is a Scottish business executive. He has been the chief executive (CEO) of Centrica, the parent company of British Gas, since early 2020.
I wonder if he reads my blog? Hahaha!
Google tell me that he gets a base salary of approximately £1.1 million per year. His total remuneration package for 2025 was £4.7 million, including a £3.6 million bonus, for a total package of only £8.2 million. Plainly, we have similar lifestyles.
This is not getting at him, just any and all of the Oligarchs that do as they please with the lesser mortals, known in a previous life, as customers.
Then again, maybe he hasn’t got Peripheral Neuropathy, Glaucoma, a fractured knee, seizures, got a TBI, Cancer, a two-roomed Warden aided council flat, Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, a Catheter bag fitted, or wears two hearing aids, got Cataracts, losing his teeth, lumbago, or dying Neurotransmitters. Not to mention the onset of Parkinson’s disease, a mechanical aorta valve fitted, and a toothache he can’t afford to have tended to. Nor a duodenal ulcer, lymphorrhea, diabetes insipidus, bleeding haemorrhoids, a fungal lesion on his todger, arthritis, onychocryptosis, receptive aphasia, had two strokes, got two boils on his bum or deep vein thrombosis?
Not that I’d wish any of these on anybody.
But then, I am not a nasty oligarch.
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Mash with cheese, garden peas, tomatoes and wholemeal rolls. 
The photo came out a little dark, but British Gas has made me feel the same way.
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PLEASE HAVE A DAY YOU’D LIKE,
HAVE SOME FUN, REST & RESPITE,
EAT FOOD YOU LIKE, IN DELIGHT,
ENJOY EACH & EVERY SINGLE BITE!
HAVE SWEET DREAMS, TONIGHT 💟
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TTFNSKI!
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Inchie: Sun/Mon 8-9th March 2026 Horrific!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Today was bad enough, gut-wrenching, piteous, and wretched. By the time I got around to starting this blog on Saturday morning, up until about 03:00hrs, hope had returned, and it seemed I was at last going to make some progress with it. But No!
CorelDraw, MS Word, and the computer’s shortage of memory ensured that Monday was going to be the worst day of the month. Sunday was bad enough. So, I’m putting both days of the same blog in hopes of getting at least some catching up done. Sunday’s memories faded as I tackled Monday’s surge of dingbats, computer cock-ups, Seizures, insanity and failures. Sunday’s tales are going to be in short-form, detail-wise. Monday’s events took over my poor, demented brain. 
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Finally got to bed.

Waking up views…
A little misty out there.

Ejaz found the ‘missing’, much-searched-for Cancer Phoo Test thing I’d lost.

Did a body check, foamed the feet, and changed the socks… well, no, he didn’t come thinkl if it… or was that on Sunday. Confused again. It would help a lot if I could read my own writing on the memory pad. Then, as I was telling Ejaz about me losing the kit, he smiled a sarcastic, sympathetic smile, shook his head, and picked it up from between the pillow and cover. I felt such a fool!
My balance seemed a lot better today, despite my lack of sleep. And as Ejaz left, I found myself singing to myself. Cliff Richards’ The Young Ones’,  humming to the Shadows’ Stars Fell on Stockton’, and moved on to a quick Yodelling song, Frank Ifields’ She Taught Me To Yodel’.
Then I grabbed the phoo-test equipment and off to the Porcelain Throne to catch a torpeo in the bucket for sample taking? But could I get anything to flow? No! I waited and waited, hoped and prayed.
Nothing, not a sausage! I crossed my fingers I would remember where I left the taking- kit. On top of the toilet roll.

I hadn’t felt this good for ages; I was almost perky! I got on the computer and made great progress on Friday’s blog. I reckon I started singing again, as I opened Excel to make the graph. To add a column for the weight of the passed urine to be recorded in.  
I didn’t, and still don’t know what I did wrong!
But after two hours altering things, Excel froze!
I contained mt self-anger well if I recall rightly. I just closed it and left it for a while. Then reopened it.
I’ve never seen many messages come up on the screen one after the other! I checked on Google, asking their robot what I need to do.
That just confused me more. So, I did the usual and turned everything off, then started again…
Stupidly not saving the CorelDraw and WP work I’d just done, in my desire to get the Excel book back.

Booted up, pressed the Excel start button, and it did so. I chose the file to open, and it opened… but it was the same as when I first started it, hours earlier. I’d lost all that work! It was a struggle to sort it out because relearning how to use and manipulate the programme was so difficult to remember, and I thought I’d done a good job… but not now.
Another hour lost, then I had to start over.
Gasps of frustration!

Ejaz rushed to clean, dry, and medicate my feet and ankles. There was no body check this time.
He was so busy.

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Who is it? Does it matter?
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No doubt about it, no question.
This must be the worst snap
than I’ve ever taken.
The envelope for the phoo sample.

End car park, it looks a
little different to me?

Sheer frustration made me take this shot.
Three wheelchairs bought, and I can’t
use a single one of them! Humph!

I turned on the TV to watch some Heartbeat.

A new world record… for me anyway.
I felt like I’d blinked, and nearly nodded of and shot awake instead. Carer came in… I then felt the upsurge of acidity into the mouth, nose, and throat, so there was no guesswork needed.
This, I believe, was my longest ever seizure. 
I turned on the TV minutes after he left on his previous visit. Seems that I’d been off into cuckoo-land for around three hours or more. With the recovery taking very little time, it adds value to my estimate. In the past, all short mini seizures had taken much longer to come out of. The longer ones seem so much easier. There’s a reason for this, but nobody told me what it was.

A snap here, of my right leg.
Pretty little thing, innit?
Hahehe! Seriously, though, it is far better today, clearing up nicely, now; thank you very muchly.
A bit dodgy when taking the bowl back to the kitchen sink. Can’t carry that and a walking stick, but my balance has much improved over the last two days. I’d like to say the same about Back-Pain-Brenda and Right-Shoulder-Sharia. But you can’t win them all. The odd one would be nice.

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Fings ain’t wot they used to be,
That no longer bovvers me,
I don’t say it antagonistically,
I ain’t talkin aggravatedly,
So good luck is an absentee,
I’ve got peripheral neuropathy,
Can’t see, cataract, you see,
TBI, and a fractured knee,
Catheter. no manual pee,
Bad back, deaf, Tothache Tiffany,
So many worse of than Inchie…
Arithmophobia, littlest ever willy,
But I get understanding from Jenny, 
How did I get into this state? A mystery…
Please accept my apology.
Hehehe!
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All The Best, TTFNski!

Inchie: Saturday 7th March 2026

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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The Porcelain Throne usage…
Produced not a sausage!
Constipation, in my dotage…
Went to do the check for the clinic,
But I could not find it,
I felt a right idiot,
My belly had grown more pudge,
My brain worked like a kludge,
While I was using Paintbrush…
My computer chose to crash,
I seemed to be gruff, habitually,
I could muster little advertency,
Got the computer going… Ah, Merci!
An hour later, it went down on me,
Hope I can get finished & posted,
Before Monday, a nurse expected,
Depression doesn’t need to be detected,
Darius all day, as I expected…
Seizures? Their number increased,
Thoughts, conclusions, indeterminacy,
Confusion Konrad at full capacity,
Self-lamasting, involuntarily,
I laughed aloud at about 17:30,
Changing intentions, ambiguity,
Hot tap left on, self-bellicosity,
Computer problems, self-loquacity…
Pathetic self-pity, close to lachrymosity,
KLife’s salaciously, a natural propensity,
I didn’t believe in serendipity,
On Ejaz’s last call on Saturday,
I went from the depths to feeling happy!
Ejaz found the Phooi-test kit, you see.
Then face a sigmoidoscopy!
Keep safe, go carefully…
💚 With bestwishes from Inchie 💚
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Morning view of the end carpark.

The knee & legs look better than yesterday.

Late morning, mist lingering late today.

This is a log of Goat’s cheese, delivered tonight, and I could not recall ordering anything at all.
Especially not for so late in the night.
Going bonkers here.

Evening view.
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TTFN
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Inchie Today: Friday 6th March 2026

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I’m so peeved off with not having good news.
I’m fed up with all the hassle I’m going through every single day this week; for more demands for the needed validations, confirmations, and various details I need to supply about my pensions, and bank details, just to get my application for a little more help started. But I’m not moaning, as such.
I should feel over the moon after Jenny 🧡, who set the ball rolling in the first place. And her kind attention given to me, and understanding of my problems. She’s been an Angel to me. 🧡
The precious help both of the Wardens had given me today. But, shamefully, I am more uptight than ever. Taps running, peeing on leg, foot, sock & slipper, going through the agony of having to take of the socks, fetch a bowl of Dettol water, wash the feet. Spill the water, carrying the bowl back to the sink. Going without socks or slippers on (pathetically, I can’t get these on without help) until the next Carer arrived. Totally confused about the paperwork and details needed for the NCC. Thankfully, as I said, Deana & Julie arrived and went through everything, a long, awkward job that I would never have got done on my own, and got me into my bank app, then sorted new passwords, favourite thing, memorable word, etc. for me to use later. That sorted, and they went to the bank’s site and provided the required details. Thank you, gals. Saved the day for me. 🤎

Ejaz arrived along with a trainee Carer. 

I managed to make a cock-up with the follow-on Poo-test. I thought I’d taken the envelope and swab thingy into the wet room with me. Constipation Conrad was in full control today. I made three attempts to force things along, but on the second fail, I could not find the swab pot thingy. I searched all over, but failed to find it. All these worries add up. affecting my outlook and mood. Just when I had cause to cheer up, something went wrong again. Like me, leaving the hot water tap running to go cold, AGAIN. Luckily, after I’d washed and shaved. I was washing the socks when the nurse arrived. Broke my concentration; it takes very little to do that nowadays. Humph!
But, I’m just saying, not moaning. (Much!)

Nurse Rebecca arrived. Nice to see her again. She asked if I would like to be added to the MDT listing. She was not keen on the state of my right leg, where the Catheter had been removed from… yesterday, I think. I mentioned how I struggle and fail to get my socks on and off. Explaining the procedure I have to go through, after each of many failures to close the valve, and get soaked in pee. After Rebecca left, I looked up Nottingham MDT on Google. “The purpose of the Wrap Around MDT (WAMDT) is to ensure that people experiencing a high level of unmet need receive integrated health, care, and support”. Glad I said yes to Rebecca’s question now. This may help me get assistance with things? Whatever it is.

Carer Dilan. Told me, “Buy some small pots to take the Peptac in, and this will eliminate you from getting the dizzies when you put your head back to drink it.” Good idea. Not that I wanted to spend any more of my dwindling bank balance, but I ordered some plastic pots from Amazon after he left. He rang the pharmacy for more medication, primarily Bisoprolol Fumarate. (Beta-Blockers)

Deana & Julie did a great job sorting the details for the NCC assessor. And me, of course. 🤎

I let the hot water tap run cold again. Grumph & Spit!

A very interesting snippet here on the memory pad. As I see it with my catracted eyes, it read; 
Poice fhomed wice, ap offer fire, twoce. 
Any guesses, please?

Late Night Nosh – Nice!
No butter-buttered bread with cheese spread.
Imitation fish sticks (Nice taste).
Dried fried onions, I could not eat these, I’m afraid, they were too hard on Toothache Tiffany.
Beetroot. And surprisingly tasty tomatoes for the time of the year. Seaweed crisps, but light ones, thinner, so I managed to devour them. The crustless soft wholemeal bread was okay (But costly). 
The mix of mature cheese spread and no-butter butter went down nicely. Finally, the lemon curd yoghourt finished it all off superbly!

Late Night View
Not very good, the best I could do.

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Nightie-Night – Or, Good Morning!
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