Inchy: Tuesday 7th January 2025

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I may be depressed & flat bound,
Perhaps I ought to be in a compound,
Doreen Dementia gives me the runaround,
And how little do you get for a pound?
Starmer is seeking self-wealth,
Rather like a bloodhound,
Me? I’d like some good health,
There’s more I’d like to expound,
I feel like I’m disallowed & disavowed,
Forcefully repudiated, denied, disowned,
Life used to be a playground,
Now, it’s a survival-free battleground,
Oligarchs & criminals seem to abound,
Animals like Starmer got empowered…
I need 2 hours to get shaved & showered!
My hopes are flattered & floundered,
I get worn out after I’ve hoovered,
I’m mentally & physically encumbered,
Rotting teeth, angina, bald-headed…
My common sense long ago defected, 
Violence and wars cannot be reined,
What’s more, I can’t get my TV started?
Starmer should be helped, assisted…
He should be airfreighted…
Go to Rwanda and get bayonetted!
Not fatally, just a painfully bloodied…
Come back and be treated by the NHS!

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ANOTHER BUST DAY 
It’d be about 0550hrs when I blossomed cheerfully, gaily, bursting into song, leapt out of bed, did a few hundred press-ups in the freezing balcony, and waved at the seagulls. I’d turned back into the fun-loving, delicate, humorous, beguiling young man I am.
Oh, alright then, I didn’t.

0550hrs: woke me up, and I passed a mammoth blast of wind from my rear-end and detached the from the day bag. I did a pretend imitation job of tidying the bed and took the BP readings. It was a Normal-High reading this morning. Yesterday, I had a ‘Hyper’ result. But that’s not so unusual. I often get one or two a week, and it usually bounces down again.

I grabbed , and went in the kitchen. What a fantastic hue the morning view offered me. I was, to me, more green than black of blue. The clouds seemed larger this time.

The intercom sounded as I was about to get the kettle on the boil. I realised then that I had an Asda order coming today. And so it was. I gingerly gathered the boxes and carriers I used to put the food into at delivery.
 I opened the door, and the driver seemed agreeable to putting the things in boxes and bags for me; bless him. As I took a carrier to put down the hallway… ailment number nine gave way. I tumbled to my right side, catching my nose against the corner of the wall. I don’t know how he did it, but the driver was through the door and prevented me from falling in a flash. A Hero! I’ve tried to get to the Asda site four times to offer my appreciation. All failed!

I got the food & cleaning things put away. Taking a couple of photos as I went along. The first one on the right shows fresh cream strawberry jam French Horns. Naughty, but so nice! 
The second snap shows potato cakes, cheesy potato balls, green tomato and onion pickled, and water chestnuts. I will try to home-pickle the chestnuts and some of the mushrooms tomorrow. I also got a can of lip balm for my cracked lip, saving the day again later. I like a Mystery, Hehehe! I stored the cleaners away and decided not to have a mug of tea but to get my ablutions done. I got the needed clothing and poddled off to the wet room. No Throne yet! 
I started with the fingernails, then got the shaving done. As far as I could tell, I was breaking a record here; a second morning of a cutless shave… I thought!
As I started the body wash, I felt the blood running down my lips and mouth. I looked in the shaving mirror, and a thin, tiny trickle of the red stuff flowed from my nostrils!
It seemed the leak point was slightly up inside my nose. Now, I could not even get the razor up there. It never poured but came persistently for one and a half hours.
Getting dressed and doing the body parts medicationings was interrupted by me having to keep dabbing at the blood. 
I wondered if I had done it when taking the tumble on the corner of the wall. I’ll never know. Hahaha! Better to go into a and claim a victory in getting no shaving cuts for two days! I moved into Level Two. Hehe!
Finished the medicating and got the PPs & clothing on, not without some bother and a little pain.

Finally, I got onto the computer. Only to find that my memory and concentration had gone to pot when I started writing on the day’s ode. This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. Carer Chloe arrived as the nose began bleeding again, not that it mattered at all; I wasn’t getting anywhere with it anyway. 
Humph & Granknangles!

Carer Chloe was concerned about my bleeding nose. She looked closely at it and asked if I had Vaseline to put on it. Then I remembered the Vaseline lip balm that had been delivered this morning. I got it from the drawer and put some on my nose and lips. The blood flow did decrease. Clever gal, Chloe! ♥ Chloe departed, saying she was coming back on a domestic call. I thanked her and bade her well.

I’m not doing well with my Ode here, so I went on CorelDraw to catch up on the photos. I was struggling. At one time, I thought the near tumble might have been caused by a reaction. Concentrating was so hard, and I guess the ode would not come out so well this time.

I’m assuming that came over me. Or, it’s possible I fell asleep… No, no, that’s impossible, come think of it. Because when I came back, a fair bit had been done on this blog. Enough for it to have taken me a couple of hours to get done. Teo hours had evaporated, and it took ages to do the amending and correcting the bloopers & mistakes made. I had a break and glass of lemonade, emptied the day pouch, and took two photos from the blooming cold balcony. The mudslide in the far car park was a lot smaller now. 
And one of the sky to the West and Wales. The clouds colouring rather impressed me.
Chloe returned. Then I realised that the nose had stopped running altogether, thanks to Chloe.
We decided what needed doing flatwork-wise, and she made a start. I think I kept talking to her, but what about is not available to Doreen Dementias’s memory now. Ah, I’ll check on the memory notepad. No, nothing was readable, and not much was on the pad. Tsk! 

After Chloe had gone, they started again, but they were all really short, as far as I can tell. Offputting but copable within the safety of being indoors.

I tried out the microwave roast potato bag for the first time. I just put in one bag… no, one potato. Mind you, I also only put it in one bag. I think I nearly lost the plot, theme and my sanity there! Hurrmph! 

I was working hard on this blog. I’m using this work too often, but I am struggling. I was going at it while the seizures were taking a break and suddenly noticed that the sunset was about to disappear, so I got the Kodak.

Beautiful!
I was awestruck.
What lovely nature…
Did my best, and for once, they came decent.

Carer Chris arrived. Medications were given.
We had a chat, he had a drink & nibble. Haha!

An hour or so later. I decided to try out the oven potato bag for the microwave. Oh, dear, the writing on the bag made me nervous, well, reading it did. I’ve copied it here:
WARNING

CONTENTS AND BAG MAY BE HOT – USE CAUTION
READ INSTRUCTION GUIDE CAREFULLY BEFORE USE.
IMPROPER USE MAY RESULT IN FIRE-MICROWAVE ONLY

DO NOT use in conventional oven.
DO NOT Microwave for more than 3 minutes at a time.
DO NOT heat on high
DO NOT do not use in microwave xithout food
DO NOT do not expose to naked flame
DO NOT leave microwave unattended during use
DO NOT do not place Potato Express™ near a hot surface
DO NOT do not cook oily or fried foods
Use only normal-sized potatoes!

I was scared stiff to use it!
Photo during cooking.
I PUT ONE LARGE POTATO IN.
What is a normal-sized potato?
Cooked it for 4 minutes – rock hard.
Gave it another 4-minutes. hard
Then, another minute.
Then, another minute.
And it still wasn’t ready.
I gave up and had a bag of crisps!
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WHAT A VIEW!
I stayed looking at this scene for a few minutes. I was so engrossed just viewing it, I didn’t realise I was getting rained on. You just have to see the funny side. Hahaha!
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Going to phone the Doctor in the morning about these seizures. I told her the first time they appeared, and I was more or less told that many people with FND and PN have them. 
I felt guilty taking up her time.

NOSH
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TTFNski, all the bestest!
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Inchy: Saturday 4th January 2025

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No chance of my thoughts getting rejuvenation,
My original creation, lost in the brains reticulation,
I move on to something of no relation,
I fear that I’ve hosted retardation,
My thoughts bear little relation…
To the current topic, No reconceptualization,
FND & Dementia, both a rapscallion,
No medical understanding or ratification,
Sneezing, coughing, farting & ructation,
Common sense, logicality in retrogression,
Practicality and hope are past their rubicon…
Sanity & I are beyond reconciliation!
Acne, eczema, boil in my bellybutton,
Daily existence is now a botheration,
I’ve gone downhill since my confirmation,
Existence has become challenging, an aberration,
No peace, joy, company or coruscation,
I’ve lived my life in bourgeoisification,
My plans and designs became just a botheration,
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To the world, these are my last claims, declarations,
I claim to have more than most do of individuality,
You do that when your life’s been an abomination,
Life was good until my 60th birthday celebration,
I’d been thrown in the canal, but life was fun,
Then my life suffered, a massive bifurcation…
Had to have a major heart operation,
Went deaf, Cataract, a rear-passage operation…
Fell into a fishing pond when on vacation,
Made redundant, jobless, the humiliation,
Job hunting was a complete circumbilivagination…
Ending, failing, no one employing…
62-year-old Inchy, accused of shirking!
By the Department of Employment & working,
All I could get was a job in Security Guarding,
I shot twice, minimum pay, embarrassing!
Redundant again, by the Sawley Security,
This was the end of working for me,
A duodenal Ulcer lodged in my tummy,
Then diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy,
They made my testicles, Cancer-free,
Cognitive Impairment came to lodge with me,
Bladder Cancer diagnosed dauntingly,
Catheter Contraption was fitted for free,
Ever since, every day has been agony,
Then Dementia was discovered, then FND,
All getting worse, thankfully slowly…
The bowels passing, either solid or mushy,
Never normal… but that’s me to a tea!
I should be complaining vociferously…
Then Starmer gets in, tragically,
Oozing criminogenically: corruptively,
Lining his pockets with things for free…
I’ve lost the plot of this Ode… Sorry!
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A much better week!
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I gave up after trying to get back to sleep for a long time. I was in the c1966, £300 second-hand charity shop-bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-Testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. A lousy night, the worst one for ages, and I was so tired, but Sweet Morpheus didn’t want me to rest. I must have nodded off dozens of times. It felt like each one was on for only minutes. Hey-Ho!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zzz’s.
TTFN.

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