Dizzy Dennis

Inchie Today: Thursday 7th August 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Based, of course, on my own experiences,
Your brain will not be so capacious,
Your cerebrum will not be as duteous,
Your memory will fade, fail or turn factitious,
You will be open and liable to fraudulencies,
Your decision-making will turn into faff,
According to your mood, you may well laugh…
There are many dementias that we may have,
Diabetic dementias, bringing delirium or psychosis,
Depressions, dingbats, Psychological disorders, 
Second childhood, neurasthenia, mental distress,
Hydrocephalus Dementia, Huntington’s diseases,
Frontotemporal dementia, or mixed dementias,
Lewy body dementia, or Diabetic dementias,
Lewy affects your mind & body, that’s crass! 
Senile dementia, or diabetic dementias,
Peripheral Neuropathy; You’ll see neurologists,
Your cognitivity declines, maybe find brain disorders,
Mental decrepitudes, possibly going subdelirious, 
This is a fair warning, not spurious,
Knowing what may behead is sagacious,
No matter if it’s agony, harmful or heinous,
So keep on writing and reading in WordPress…,
NHS not interested, rely on charities,
You’ll change your opinion of hilarities,
After your first session with a hypnotherapist, 
Hilarity, joy will go all minimalist…
When scorned for the appointment you missed,
You lose your watch and find it on your wrist,
Problems will turn you into a hypothesist,
You’ll consider suicide; you must resist!

Coming Soon: Part Two, How to cope!
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When I stirred in bed, all the signs were of having had a nocturnal seizure. The disorientation was so intense that I actually thought at first that I was going to fall out of bed! Getting out of it, slowly and carefully, proved to be a good idea. Dizzy Dennis and or Balance Loss pestered me for a few minutes. Soon to be joined by Cartilage Carol; she gave way a few times over the day, but no tumbles. A few close calls, though, she didn’t have me over, thankfully.

I had more mentally incapacitating mini-seizures today than ever before, very sparse notes on the memory pad, so this may be the shortest blog yet.

Still no SD card. I mentioned it to each caller, hoping one might say they will get me one and drop it off next time they call, but no one did. Still, it’s not their job. No complaints. So, no photos. Carer.

In the evening, Ejaz made his first call to me in several days, and I was pleased to see him.

What I thought at first was that a Community Nurse rang the intercom. When the gal got into the flat, I realised she was from the Cardiac DVT Warfarin Clinic. She used my tackle to take the BP, and her ear thermometer. Listened to my lungs. Some Cough-cough instructions. (Hehe!) The nurse insisted that I had to keep drinking water. Many questions were asked, but I’ve written all I can recall about the visit. Other than that, she was a cracker! (Naughty!)

At some time, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenführeress Warden, and Prima Ballerina, Warden Deana came in.
She was on the yearly fact-updating mission. I had to change the Diabetic Dementia to the new (another name) Premorbid Cognitive Impairment. Then, Lymphorrhea Leslie and Little Inchies’ fungal lesion were added. The wound on the tip was caused by the Catheter tubing and the failure of carers to change the pouch weekly.

Can’t recall anything else with no notes to prompt me. Later in the day, I tried the old SD card again to take a shot of the meal – Blimey, it took it!
So I took a shot of the sunset. I downloaded them to CorelDraw, put the card back in to take more, and the camera refused the card again. I tried again several times, but I got the card must be formatted message. Clicked to format (and lose all the photos). The camera could not format the SD card! I was lifted so much when the camera unexpectedly took the two pictures, but sank into a Darius Depression afterwards.

Sunset

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TTFN, each!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
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A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
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I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
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Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
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I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
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WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025
I had even fewer jumping awakes last night.
Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.

After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today.
Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did.  
A good job that he remembered!

The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.

I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.

I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker.
I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!

A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe!
An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford.
I went inside the waiting room and waited. 
But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!

I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me.
I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep!
At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t.
But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.

There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.

He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of.
Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.

Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something Wrong Here!

I pressed on with the day’s blog.

Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!

Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.

I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.

Back in the morning, I hope.

Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast…
Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…

I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again!
Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room.
The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!

I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it.
I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.

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Thanks everyone!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 1st April 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I’ve no claims to anything academical,
I’m interested in anything apodeictical,
Like the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle,
Some claim that he used to hit the bottle,
I used to drink a lot, being self-critical,
The only trait we share? Being alcoholical,
But I can auger, but not astrological,
My success rate is astronomical,
I see this world is not ameliorable,
I know why Starmer is amerceable,
Takes backhanders, is unprosecutable,
His promises are agathokakological,
His cohorts are also not punishable,
As they appease the Oligarchical,
I seek words that are encourageable,
Proletariats are now extirpable…
MP’s morals uncouth, aethereal,
They lie, seek self-profit & teazle,
HMGs are foxy, furtive, deceitful,
Slithery, snidey, sidestepping, hurtful,
They should be accusable and arrestable,
Indeed, are they executionable?
Has HMG been proven unreliable?
Who takes over? That’s questionable!
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I had the usual broken sleep, but at least this time, it was broken far fewer times, and I got four½ and a half hours! I was too late to complete the ablutions before the Asda delivery arrived. 
I collated the things that I needed to take to the Audio Clinic and visited the Porcelain Throne. It was a messy! Trotsky Terence affair.

06:20hrs: I checked emails to confirm the timing of the order. 0700 > 0800hrs.

So, I got the computer to start this blog. Soon kicked off, as is typical when I am in a ‘feeling the pressure mode’ over the clinic lifts and appointments. Foggy-Brained!

GC Trolley indoorsI’m not sure when the Caregiver will arrive, but I hope he will be here for the delivery to help get it in. Then I can store it away. And get on with the hurried ablutions, medicalisationings, and risky job of getting the trousers on. I’ll get the things to take into the three-wheel-wheeled-walker while I think of it.
I must get down in the lobby at 10:30hrs so as not to miss the lift, which may come early or late, depending on how many others they have to pick up and drop off en route.

The carer arrived as I was taking in the Asda food.
After I’d got all the bags in the kitchen, I joined the Caregiver, who put the medications and socks on. Then, as I was going out, I asked him to help me put on the trousers and shoes.

Pretty colours this morning

Asda delivery

Ready-made meals (Almost)

I got the Carer’s & Nurses nibbles & drinkies topped up on the table and cabinet.

The computer stopped allowing me to upload photos. I had to delete the few I’d not put on and clean the drive with cCleaner again. I’ll try later when I get back from the Audio Clinic. That was the plan!

It was a heck of a rush getting the stand-up wash, shave, and medications done. I flapped a bit, getting all the paperwork and the list of things I needed to take with me. I checked the EasyLink lift.

On the way down to the foyer to await the lift, I dropped some bits off in appreciation of the help Jenny and Frank have so often given me on their floor. I went down in the lift, worrying if I’d forgotten to take anything. I got seated in the chair and got the camera out as I checked the bag of things in the trolley-walker. 10:15hrs, plenty of time.
They have replaced the stolen wall clock. It has fancy smaller figures, but I’d had my wristwatch on.

Almost straight away, I found myself fighting off the closing eyelid. The tiredness and fatigue were back!
I’m sure I nodded off momentarily a good few times. But at least when the driver comes to the foyer door, she/he will see me even if I’d nodded off.
But the frequency worried me; I really was struggling to stay awake. Likely it was the comfort of the chair that I wasn’t used to, having to use 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.

I was concerned that I may have nodded for a little longer than I thought; I may have missed the driver from EasyLink. Guilt raised its ugly head.
I waited until I should have been starting the appointment, realising that I must have made a faux pas or they had trouble getting a driver. Not knowing, I decided to believe that I must have made a Whoopsiedangleplop. And  ! This turned me swiftly into a curmudgeonly grump!
I walked along the connecting passageway to Winwood Court in case they (EasyLink) called at the wrong block of flats. Nope!
Back misrably to the flat amidst the depression, self-lambasting, and the catheter bag getting overfull!

I sorted out the waste from the earlier delivery and got the bags down the waste chute.

I decided to prep the meal for the microwave later: Colcanon mash, minced beef, gravy, carrots, peas, and water chestnuts. I put it in the fridge. I also turned on the computer to keep this blog up to date. I hoped the phone would ring to clarify whatever mistake I’d made. It did!

Frustrated, Depressed & Self-Loathing…
CONFUSED! – HAD ENOUGH!
I can’t take any more of these problems!
ARITHMAPHOBIA TO BLAME, this time!

What happened, as I see it.

The pleasant lady from EasyLink telephoned to confirm that Wednesday’s lift to the Audio clinic was pick-up at 10:25 and lift back at 13:00 hrs!
When I checked the timings yesterday, I must have been the arithmaphobia. I’d already got it down for Wednesday but got mentally entangled with the digits again.
So, I’ve got all this to do again in the morning!
This sounds scary to me, actually.

I got the meal cooked and eaten.

Lightened a smidge, but I was so annoyed at myself!

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ALL THE BESTEST!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 25th March 2025.

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

– – Jolly Good Day! – –
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My beloved Tree Copse: free of adversity,
I used to walk through it, daily,
Stopping to talk to a bush or tree…
Or a feral rat, a being-walked doggie,
Crows, insects, I once saw a garganey,
I loved these copse-walks initially,
But now I’m not up to it, even weekly,
I can see it from the flat’s balcony,
But it wrangles me intractably,
My health I consider detestationally,
I can’t even walk up the entrance pathway,
Cartilages, Arthur itis, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Glaucoma, Anne Gina, too much you see…
I adored getting out & about, naturally,
Maybe one day? I’m thinking miraculously…
But I won’t, I’ll never have the ability,
Bad enough being incapable physically,
Reality is harder to cope with mentally,
I wonder if the plant life & animals miss me?
Bird poo, that dropped on me seemed aimingly!
Those crows knew how to poo accurately,
Trips & tumbles, bites & stings for free,
I miss my daily walks so atrociously,
I can’t manage the uphill bit unaidedly,
The downhill bit would be just as risky,
This ode has brought on a feeling of inefficacy,
I still love my Tree Copse, albeit incongruously!
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I had a slightly better kip last night. Still broken up, but at least I know why this time. The guilty ailment was chiefly . She was persistent with it. I think I may have had a few nocturnal seizures as well. So many wake-ups, but my response was different for some of them, and it took me a lot longer to get back to sleep after a few of them. There were none of the episodes and a few of the . Did you see that? I was being diagnostic, investigative, and problem-solving, on the verge of being semi-logical in my assessment of the night’s kipping difficulties?

I removed the night bag from the day bag, and bending down, I got a visit from … that was a bad one. In the late afternoon, while on the computer, he called again and was even more effective. I had a good few today.

I perked up a little, made a brew of Glengettie, and turned on the computer to finish Tuesday’s blog. It was a breeze! But it took me five hours due to basic errors a ten-year-old would be proud of.

It looked bleak outside, with a bit of drizzle.I did some hoovering and sorted the waste bins. Then, I felt guilty about the mess in the wet room that still needed to be cleaned, so I went to the wet room.
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I only mixed up with the gear I just stacked up to make room to do the mopping! I landed on the pile of the shower chair, buckets, mops, bowls and towels, knocking them over and hitting the trolley and the cosmetics, gel, disinfectant, bleach, aftershave, toothbrush, scissors, and some medications. Now I’ve a bruised rib cage.
Miraculously, I didn’t go down to the floor and stayed on top of the rubbish. So, at least I didn’t have to crawl to the junk room on all fours to drag myself back onto my feet! Phew! Thanks lads! 🙏🏼

The Caregiver arrived, Ahram, I think. Or was it Joe? It was almost definitely one or the other. After I got the medications sorted and my socks on, the door chime rang out. It was the Asda delivery. While I was taking in the groceries, I had another of those danged dangerous Whoopsies!
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My carer Ahram was assisting me to get the groceries in the door, and , gave way and I dropped the walking stick. I slid down with my back against the wall and plumped on a pack of six (approx. 5-inches high) mini-mineral spring water bottles onto my bum. With both knees doubled up, Arthur Itis and the Cartilages were agony!
For more than one reason. Both knees, the cartilages and as I found out later, the bleeding haemorrhoids where I landed on the water bottles!
Both chaps set about getting me up again. I thanked them for being there at the right time to rescue me, get me on my feet, and get me into the chair! Carer
Ahram set to putting the fodder away, so there were no photographs of the food, as there usually would be. When I recovered, I took a snap of the fridge, freezer, and the bladder-demanding water.

The fridge.
The freezer.
The waters.

I took another kitchen window shot.

The day’s original Beloved Copse shot.

To the left of the window and down a bit.
(Do you recall ‘The Golden Shot’?)

The time has flashed by with little getting done other than the blog.
The wetroom is still in a mess.
The Haemorrhoids have stopped bleeding at last.
I think I’ve gained some more bruising on the ribs and back. And for some reason, my top and bottom lips are now bleeding. Huh!

Will I ever again get a decent injury-free day?
Or a night with some unbroken sleep?
Silly questions to ask!

A ready-made beef in gravy with colcannon mashed potatoes. I added the last can of minced beef in gravy, carrots, and peas. Added some Marmite to the mixture and stirred it all up. Just four minutes in the microwave & it was ready-to-eat. It tasted superb! It was so good that I didn’t eat any of the bread.

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Constipation, Anne Gyna & Seizures,
Two tumbles, Trouble w’ catheters,
Doreen Dementia, more Accifauxpas,
Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids were oozing,
Glaucoma Gladys, things hard to see,
No time to start feeling lonely,
I was never truly alone today!
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TTFNski!

Inchy: Sunday 16th February 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Inchy: Grim, is this call fer yer soul-gathering process?
Grim: Well, it ain’t exactly going to be posthumous,
As yer not dead yet, let alone redivivus!
Inchy: Oh, aye, were yer bein’ punctilious?
Grim: No, it’s a social call, I wasn’t bein’ serious!
You don’t greet me with any doubtfulness?
Inchy: I see you as my saviour & retiarius!
Grim: Have you been on the drink? Is yer stocious?
Anyway, what does that mean, retiarius?
Inchy: A word I got from my thesaurus…
Grim: Oh yeah, you lost yer word list, gonna tell us?
Inchy: A Gladiator with a net, called iaculums…
Way back in Roman or Greek civilisation,
Grim: In the arena, I saw some action…
Inchy: Did yer go in a gladiators competition?
Grim: Aye, in my last life, I was an egalitarian …
Inchy: You told me yer was a Roman!
Grim: You don’t know that word, do yer; egalitarian?
Inchy: Is it an island in the Mediterranean?
Grim: Life was good then, full of adventurism,
Mind you, we discovered anthropotheism,
3.000 years earlier, I became a theoretician,
Life before that, I was a Pelasgian,
I put my head in the mouth of a lion…
I died at the Roman Coliseum,
Inchy: We seem to have had a lot in common
Grim: Yes, you shot in, & I got stabbed in the brachium
I enjoyed this natter; some folk won’t listen,
Inchy: Does St Peter show contradistinction?
Grim: On a bad day, he sees humankind’s failure
Of course, he dare not tell his gaffer,
The one in Heaven or the Beelzebubian?
The last souls I took were a proper motley collection,
An oligarch, terrorist and a politician…
Inchy: Of Heaven &Hell I’ve many a conceptualisation
Grim: I’d think when I collect souls for incineration…
You’ll be full of expectation, scepticism, apprehension?
Inchy: You’re right there, Grim, there’re cornucopian
Grim: Gird yourself for destruction & disputation,
Inchy: So, like Earth then, it’s full of desolation?
Grim: There’ll be billions in the queue waiting,
They’ve had to widen St Peters’s gating!
I’ll tell you when to stock up on your Amoxycillin,
To make time pass, they say to go Angel-watching,
Eventually, you’ll get through the brainwashing!
To Earth, 99% will be returning…
Where they can slowly die again, starving,
They’ll live in caves until the Earth starts exploding!
Inchy: Well, I’m so glad to hear you explaining!
Grim: Haha! Fear not, for I was just teasing!
Inchy: For a while, then, life was not so depressing.
Thanks, you certainly had me laughing!
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BEST WEEK FOR YONKS!
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A BAD AFTERNOON & NIGHT
THE MORNING WAS FINE.
Sorry, not a lot on from PM.
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Woke without any .
I did miss him. Haha!  was easier than she had been for the last two days. Bless her!
The Ailment Excrutiatera of this Sunday were & . In the latter part of the day, the SS’s repetitions were scary.
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I didn’t wake up until 05:00hrs. And did so without the neck twitches! I got the
removed. A dark shade today. I’d had a good 6 hours of sleep, mind you!

I had hurried, but I don’t know why I hurried, stand-up wash & shave (three cuts). The medications all went well, and then I got seated on the WC in anticipation of another solid, not-wanting-to-escape torpedo to be evacuated. I got the crossword book and pen, as I settled…
One minute later, the splonk-all-gone Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation was all over!

To the kitchen, taking some snaps of the view.
Both of them turned out badly.
Unfortunately for me, Shaking Shaun gave me a bit of a mini-battering at the time.

I got carried away for hours with the Grim Reaper Odeing.
I found it difficult for some reason or other formulationalisations of this Ode. There’ll be a reason for this.
If anyone knows, please let me know. Haha!

Carer Shaq called, and we had a snow shower when he was here! He took the camera and tried to get some snaps that showed the snow falling. He realised the Shaking Shaun was visiting and helped.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
No snow on this, but there was outside.
That was a waste of time. Hehehe!

Carer Kimberley arrived. Medications given.
What I believed were Myoclonic Seizures kicked off. These ones are where I carry on doing things without realising it. They hounded me for the rest of the day. Not good. 
Eric’s Electric Shocks joined in later, but no bad ones, and they were not overmany.

I made the second mug of Co-op 99 tea bags.

I went back to blogging and Coreldrawing as soon as I completed it, then did a disastrous job of getting the Ode onto the top of this blog. With seizures and the occasional Eric’s Electric Shock joining in, I’d had enough, and I will try to get it all sorted out later. The colours I chose kept changing, and I couldn’t figure out why or what I was doing wrong.

I was feeling a bit of a mental wreck when Carer Ali arrived.
But he cheered me up a smidgeon.
After he was done taking the medications and taking off my socks, I decided not to give in altogether and caught up with the WP Reader and comments. Getting hungry now!.

NOSH
Ready meal. Added some Marmite.
Milk Roll bread defrosted.
Lemon Yoghourt.
Nice!

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Due to a change in circumstances, my blog will have to get smaller starting Monday.
There may be the odd day when it cannot get done.
Many extra tasks to find out how to do them and then get them done. The first one tomorrow is to remember how to order the medications directly. Carer Richard informed me I have to phone the chemist each Monday after checking the stock and let them know what needs to be done. If the Seizures are as often as today, I’ll ring to get an appointment with the Doctor. Life is getting more complicated now.
Poor little sausage! Hehehe!

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TTFN, Each!
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Acci-Whoopsies Sat 8th Feb 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

HAVE A GREAT DAY
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– ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
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Do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do
I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain,
What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again,
I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline,
The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin,
Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place,
Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face,
I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again,
Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane!
Dancing, laughing at the pain
I’m happy again…
I’ll cope and smile at the pain,
I may flinch cause the pain is a bane!
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There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. 
I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.

Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. 
The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.

Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay.
2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before.
3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned.
A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me!
At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! 
. Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea…  Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening.
I’ve had better mornings!

Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment.
There I go, moaning again. Tsk!

I got the computer on the go.
By Gawd, it’s going so slow.
But so was I, like an armadillo.
Then I got rumbling below…
Back to the wet room I went!
I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! !
Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now.
However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through.
A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, 
thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind.
Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them.
Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha!
Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. 
I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!

Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥

Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?

Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.

Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.

I updated this blog up to here.
And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea.
This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.

Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.

The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!

Then, I sorted out a meal.
But this one wasn’t!

I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. 
Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner.
Constantly waking up with either  or pains twinging away.

A painful day and night today!

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Evening… or, Morning Each

 

Inchy: Saturday 1st February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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My situation could be described as delicate,
So many concerns it’s hard to navigate…
Worsened by not being numerate,
Although I’m not yet nonliterate,
I talk to myself, and how do I reciprocate?
My cerebrum needs to reorchestrate,
If Doreen Dementia would only vacate,
Maybe then, I’d no longer verbigerate?
The norovirus is making me ululate,
I still cannot manually voluntarily urinate!
My confidence & abilities absquatulate,
Hopes, plans & desires are all abirritate,
Needs that vary every hour assimilate…
Single thoughts, problems, will bifurcate,
It’s my personal choices that I berate,
I’m getting myself into the right state…
At 10 o‘clock, I could self-strangulate,
Complete shame, disgust, and self-hate,
Depressions by the hundredweight,
11 o’clock, I’m impossible to humiliate!
My worries, & fears, I did incarcerate,
The Enoxaparin, which I did inoculate,
Which left me with some stomach-ache,
But I was worry-free to compensate…
Others, worse off, I was compassionate,
Twelve noon, my joy did regenerate,
Up & down, it’s hard to hariolate…
Then flow-back came from my prostate,
This time, I reacted not as an ingrate…
Lots of folks have more worries on their plate,
The ailment with which I have to cohabitate,
Leaves me confused, incoherent & inchoate,
These good moments may well be inquorate…
But they are so precious, mate…
My situation, as of now, is not so delicate!
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Great Results This Week!
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After hours of complete failure to sleep, I gave up and got up at 04:00hrs. I kept changing from the bed to 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, and back again.

There was not a lot in the nocturnal catheter pouch. But it was a beautiful colour even if it was too dark on the NHS colour scale (It was a 7). Note that this indoors-set shot hid the blotch very well on the black bit!

I got the waste bag to the doorway, then went to take some morning snaps from the kitchenette window. It felt bitter cold as I opened the window. Then, I had to change my plans again. The innards indicated it would be wise to visit the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

Yet again, it was a close call that I got to the and seated in time!
The evacuation couldn’t have taken 30 seconds at most – but the follow-up motions, which were all liquid, took much longer to escape. I dared not move until I was as sure as I could be that they had finally finished coming. The cleaning up of my muscular, firm, lithe little rear end took me ages. Then, the Porcelain cleaning and deodorising had to be done.
The medicalisationings had some moments of humour. Is that the correct word to use? 
1: Taking off the PPs, as I tore down the seam, I caught the top catheter gripper with my broken fingernail; this caused me to tug at the tube stuck down the poor and now painful . Naturally, the blood flowed out all down my leg and foot and onto the wetroom carpet and floor. Naturally, the pain didn’t bother a man of my youthful calibre; I did not swear, spit, or howl out. Although the cleaning up and all the bending kicked off , it really annoyed  .
Of course, I just laughed it off!

Anne Gyna’s pains were not on at this stage, which was very welcome. After about an hour of cleaning up the mess, I continued with the medicationalisationings. Harold’s haemorrhoids were Germaloided. The colossal belly folds, underarms, and back fat  were barrier-creamed. Then I did the eye drops and spraying.

2: I got the olive oil dropper to do the earholes next. I assume I had not cleaned the barrier cream off my hands properly; The bottle shot out of my hands, hit the wall, bounced back to fall on my toe nail, with the oils spread all over me, then the floor I’d just cleaned! I saw the funny side, and I did laugh!

3: Now joined in the grief & agony-giving party of ailments. I cleaned up the blood again.
  4: With more bending and pulling, it opened up again. Humph! I take these , and in my stride, you know.

Hours after my first attempt, I got snaps of the morning view.
A sort of brownie-green hue to go with the 07:50hrs photographs taken?
I tried a closer-in shot of Cavendish Vale. That’s the road with the suspiciously first snow-melting roof tiles on the left of this picture. Hehe!

Carer Precious made the 08:25 and 11:25 hrs calls of the day. He tried to sort a camera out for me, but it beat him. It was nice of him to try to get it to work for me, anyway.

I got on with updating the blog. Soon got it posted. Shame about all the time lost in the wet room farcicalness, else I might have caught up with it. Har-Har!

Carer Joanne called to collect the hand washing for me. She’d been off a long time with the Nocovirus Flu. She’s not back to her normal self yet, and it showed, bless her. ♥

I was annoyed with CorelDraw again, and the computer went so slow that I feared the worst! However, after CCleaning it, it got a smidge better—but not on CorelDraw.

I got the ode done and dusted for tomorrow – yes! In front, at last, I thought. Until I realised that I had not completed all of the templates. Then I recalled having a series of frequent but short bursts of the other day and must have thought I’d done them. So, back to catching up again.

I took a snap through the kitchenette window. The top right is a gloomy-looking view, complete with ‘the ‘Persistent Blotch’ showing. It’s easier to hide when taking night shots cause the blotch blends in the darkness and is less conspicuous. 

The waste bags had not been taken to the rubbish chute yet. So, I took them to the rubbish chute. On my way back after depositing the bags down the tube, it gave way. No tumble or fall, though, just pain. Hehe! I smiled at it and whistled as I hobbled back to the flat. 

Around 16:00hrs, the Co-op food delivery arrived. I’d stocked up with the cheesy bread rolls. I’m rather partial to these. I also got some ready-made beef and caramelised onion sandwiches. It was not cheap, but I was feeling idle and tired and had no sleep lately. I added some cooked smoked bacon, chicken thighs, German smoked cheese, & sliced tomato to the sarnie and overcooked battered onion rings. Well, I like them browned a little. Salted the sliced tomatoes. Nice! Complete with semi-hidden blotch! A different Carer did the last two calls.

I’m getting miffed about not getting any sleep in. I watched the football highlights, then nipped through the channels to find something to watch. I moved from the bed back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. But it made no difference to the sleep deprivation until I turned off the TV at 03:00hrs. Sometime then, I nodded off! Yes! Waking up coughing and sneezing at 04:00hrs!

I gave up and got up!

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CHEERY-BYE!
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Inchy: Wednesday 29th January 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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I once had hopes of understanding Aristotle,
His views seemed inevitable, apodeictical,
Which led me to study causations, aetiological,
My lack of education drove me apoplectical,
My efforts all failed, confused & pathetical,
Depressed at my failure, I tried phenobarbital,
My studies, & results sadly turned pedantical,
I gained an appreciation of beauty, philosophical,
Accepting my abnormalities as psychological,
The black & whiteness of life turned quixotical,
My inner thoughts turned into a vague quiddle…
Understanding others’ problems became quintessential,
My thought processes turned quodlibetical,
Decisions taken? Some, primarily quasiexperimental,
Asleep, awake, I’d stutter & gabble.
My brain turned into a tangled graticule,
As Dementia began to rule, I turned gullible…
To graceful, grateful, then gladiatorial,
Confused by numbers, figures, things horological,
Life came hazardable, unhealable, not hearable,
Things hopeful, humourful, became hurtful,
With no control, events results became happenstantial,
Why, where, whom, which, when… are now idiopathical, 
Problems insolvable, inconcludable, not influenceable,
Hopes, dreams, permanently imprisonable,
Some things remain so impressionable…
Nature, the trees, the sky, the bramble,
The daisies, bluebells, mankind’s burial,
The fish, the birds, even the dung beetle,
I fear the oligarchal & bureaucratical,
The politicians are so bribeable!
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Oh, flipping ‘eck!
Sleep is back to being accompanied by no less than . None of my usual tricks to shut him up worked. I tried guzzling soda water from the soda bottle. Nope! I moved from the hospital bed into the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, catheter-tube-yanking, sickenly beige-coloured recliner. Nope, no good! This made him worse by lambasting away at my problems and faults! Grumph! I turned the TV on, which seemed to annoy him more than ever! This grinded away at my confidence. He’s been leaving me relatively hassle-free these past 6-7 nights. He’s back now!

I gave up and got up; my balance was in good condition as I released and emptied the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch. Then, a summoning from the innards to visit the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, I did! It was a Trotsky Terence performance similar to yesterday’s. But masses more of it!

I’m doing well with the Health Checks this week. Carried out the medical cleaning and medicationings. This cough medicine tastes horrible. Haha!

Computer on, & updated yesterday’s blog & posted it.

11:20hrs: Carer Kimberly came to do a finance and appointment check visit. Starting with an email filling-in form (At last! ) to make an appointment with the Dentist. It was made for Tuesday 11th February. Then I asked her to inform the District Nurses of this appointment in case it clashed with their appointment to change the Catheter Contraption. A good job I did, too, cause it did clash. They rearranged their time for Monday 10th February. I put these down in the Google calendar to be on the safe side. During the visit, the grinding dry cough returned. I fear the Influenza Norovirus is returning again. This is the last thing I need… but it is!

As departed, I had to rush to the wet room again. Another mega-messy mammoth dollop of an evacuation was taken! During the evacuation hit me, and it took me a while to get back up on my feet; then, it was a struggle to stay on them. Oh, dearie me!

I will try sitting down and getting some obviously needed sleep catch-up. I didn’t work, of course, but I took my mind off the ailments by watching an episode of ‘Heartbeat’ on TV. Then sat through a second episode, with little outbursts of the damned coughing and the occasional sneeze.

Influenza Norovirus is returning again!
Back is the sleeplessness. Sore throat. Cough. Utter weariness. I tried to get some sleep and ended up doing nothing but watch TV, drowsily but no sleep as such for the next nine hours. During which two carers came. Richard was one of them, and Precious the other.
Confusionableititus Reigned.
Not in a good condition.
Sweet Jenny phoned – she has a camera I can use, bless her, she’ll drop it off tomorrow for me.
Bless you, Jenny! ♥

I gave up on getting any sleep and got up around 04:00hrs to find I’d left the computer on, and I am now getting blue memory warnings on the screen.

May have trouble doing the blog.
I’ll try to get the ode done on Thursday if nowt else.

TTFN.

Inchy: Monday 27th January 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Perhaps it’s time I was adulterised? 
I won’t qualify for being apostolised,
Too late for me to be activised or adrenalised,
I’m considering being re-alcoholised…
I’m no academist, a failed accordionist,
A mistake-maker? I’m the most awesome!
I’m not a Blairist or a Bonapartist,
My thoughts on Starmer are by bloodthirstiest,
As PMs go, he is undoubtedly he’s the brutalist,
Farmers & pensioners are his biggest bigotries,
I wish him cancer, pain and blepharitis,
While I’m at it, add brainsickness…
I have/had each of these ailments & sickness,
His stealing of my fuel allowance made me stressed,
My hatred can no longer be suppressed,
I’m a sceptisist, while he is a lying Satanist,
To Labours’ lost Cor-Values, he is a sacrilegist!
If he’d be kind enough to die. He’d be so unmissed!
He’d expect more backhanders in heaven’s mists…
Where dead pensioners & farmers resist…
Welcoming him with headbutts & fists!
But my guilt will not be vanquished!
Or should that be unvanquished?
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07:10 hrs: I stirred, woken by a grinding chesty cough, Dizzy Dennis, with Twtiching-Neck-Nigel trying his best to detach himself from my torso. 
Realising the time indicated that I’d slept the longest night for over many weeks, 8 hours! The phlegm-clearing continued for a few minutes longer.
Then I remembered that the Ocado order was due between 07:00-0800hrs; & I worried in case it had already been and I didn’t hear the intercom. 
I took off the nocturnal catheter pouch, a 7 on the graph, and as doing so, the door chime rang out. At first, I thought it must be the delivery, but Carer Richard came in. I was coughing away, so I took a swig of the cough linctus. 
Gawd, it tastes so foul! Eurgh!
Richard looked slightly tired at the end of his first shift back at work (naturally). He checked the medications and recorded the shortages, which were issued today. The last of the Anne Gyna Painkillers was taken. It will be a painful wait until the lad orders them from the doctor. She electronically orders replacements from the chemist, and his average delivery time has been three days up till now. So, a possible four days ahead without any help getting any ease Anne Gyna.  
I turned on the computer to check the time of the Ocado order, and it arrived as I was doing so. I put the things away and took a can of Mighty Malt that someone told me to try to perk things up a little. I drank it while typing this.
Then, I tried to sort out yesterday’s colossal error in making the templates and storing them out of order. What a Plonker!

COMPUTER CALAMITY!
There I was, doing well with the blog updates.
Suddenly, the cursor went blue, and I could not type anything else in the blog, ode or word list. After pressing the Esc button, I got a new email browser. I closed it in the same pickle as the other one. I tried various combinations of Ctrl Win & Alt buttons. All to no avail. I closed the computer, saved what it would allow me to, and selected “Restart Windows.”

At 11:40 a.m., Carer Chloe arrived.
A new full-sized Blue Screen came up. Options offered; 1) Open in Windows 10 browser. 2) Close this computer
3) Contact the MS engineer assistant line and another one 4) that was so technical it had me beaten. Chloe wanted me to press Number One. But I had set up Google as my browser. After getting myself even more confused, I closed the computer. Waited a few minutes & restarted again.

I was baffled but pleased to say that it was working!

RETURN
I’d been half-hoping she may have gone on vacation for a nice break. But, No! Silly me!

Carer Promise did the last two calls for me. Medications were given & diabetic socks were taken off. On the last call, he remembered he’d forgotten the prescription Medications. He nipped down and fetched them. Then, attach the nocturnal catheter bag. Thus, he saved me a lot of agonies when the Anne Gyna meds ran out. Carer Richard’s planning and Precious saved the say again.

Anne Gyna did her best to get at me again, but taking two of the tablets must have disappointed her aims.
Ranolazine & Beta-blockers at the ready!

A night of broken sleep patterns again, but I soon nodded off again each time that and/or woke me up. Yes, DD is back!

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Skol!
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Inchy: Friday 24th January 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Talking to Doreen Dementia communicably,
It has never been or will be very easy.
Cognitive Impairment Iris is another problem for me,
Avoiding things depreciatory or derogatory…
They both warp my limited etymology,
It annoys them when I get stuttery…
Why? When I’m communicating mentally,
I appreciate that I stutter verbally,
Especially when I talk aguishly nervously…
I’ve disabilities in physical & mental functionality,
This is just a barely-bearable reality,
A by-product of Peripheral Neuropathy,
And having the stroke, regretfully,
The brain moves between agony, self-hatred & complacency,
It seems my neurotransmitters have lost choreography.
When the Neurosurgeon hacks in cerebrumly…
In my brain, what will he see? An electric melee?
My surviving nerve ends, as confused as me?
Or Doreen & Rita, having a cup of tea, bizarrerie,
Deciding how they can attack me… bloodcurdlingly,
Can he drag them out using keyhole surgery?
Maybe they got in when I had my appendectomy?
They’re illegal immigrants; they didn’t ask Inchy!
Annoyingly, my pre-op emotion is one of apathy…
They get pleasure from Mind-Mangling, you see…
But how did they get at me? Serendipity?
I have to suffer their Satanophany, frustratingly,
If this op fails, will I be brokenhearted? Hardly!
I’ll show no displeasure or recalcitrancy, 
I’ll be in cloud-cuckoo-land, & thankfully… 
To the surgeons, nurses, & staff at the QMC,
And go back to my life’s mental hurly-burly,
Where my own thoughts lack authenticity,
My memory is beyond any help or assistance,
Self-worth and good luck show imperceptibility,
To my struggle with mental mobility,
My ailments gift of physical disability,
Glaucoma Gladys makes my vision foggy,
Shaking Shaun keeps me feeling groggy,
Anne Gyna, currently the epitome of agony,
Catheter leaks, leaving my leg & slippers soggy!
The morning ritual of cleaning things that are bloody,
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion; he’s also sticky,
Eye drops & sprays, lip balm, cream the piles, that’s dodgy!
Yes, back to the flat of milk and honey,
Computer, mobile, and TV troubles, not funny…
Where I’m perceived unsympathetically,
The mini seizures, Leg dances, Twitching-neck-Ali,
Where I’m assured of being ignored & querimony,
And of Fauxpas & Whoopsiedangleploppery!
And await my Glaucoma op, & retinopathy…
And the everyday hassle from Arthur Itis, Not Askey!
The terrible twins, Catheter right, Carol, left, Chloe,
When they go, at best, you’ll fall on one knee…
Which always sets off a reaction from the FND…
Arthur Itis, Cartilages Carol and/or Chloe,
Sometimes, the Catheter pouch will blow!
The tube in Little Inchie yanks; you will never know…
The pain entailed cleaning & medicating with Opzeluro,
My right testicle swells to the size of a baking potato!
Still, I don’t like to complain, though!
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I had a lot of bother in the morning trying to get this blog started. I’m starting to get all het-up now.

I got 3 hours kip in, though. Ye-Haaa!

It’s now Saturday, and it’s 19:00hrs! So this will be short.
Otherwise, Saturdays will never get started. Arghh!
Sorry about this. Not coping well.

The new ailment that I thought was the Cartilages… now I don’t think it was. Several times when the knees gave way today, both went together. Terrible sensations. From the ankles, knees and up to the thigh. Everything wobbled, and the instant weakness and balance loss all but had me over a few times. Actually, it did have me over once. But I crumpled conveniently onto 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.

The nocturnal Catheter Pouch was classed as a No. 8 on the NHS Richter Scale Card. Hehe!

Carer Sherida called. She kindly removed the socks that were not done earlier and suggested I ask the next carer to put the fresh ones on. She checked to ensure that they were diabetic ones for me. This way, I could get a proper shower and medicalisationing session early.

I struggled to finish the show and was dubious about my weak legs. Constipation: Conrad was still in control of the Porcelain Throne duties. There was a smidgeon of blood, but it was hardly worth mentioning. The shaving: I thought I had done a good bloodless job. I got under the shower and used the shower chair for the shower session, which was well over an hour. Then, I ensured all the needed treatment areas of my magnificent, muscular, youthful body were well dried, drying the Catheter bag and tubing simultaneously.

Then, as I was getting on the dressing gown, I felt all the hairs I’d missed on my neck hole when shaving. I was a midge annoyed as I got the tackle out and gave the neck a go over again. The bleeding took me ages of time and half a bottle of Brut aftershave to stem the flow. Humph!

Carer Sherida took the laundry bag down for me. Pound to a penny, the bag gets stolen, or the clothes disappear again.

Carer Sam did the midday spot.

Carer Precious Called. I mentioned the low quantity of the Anne Gyna medications, and they told me they had been delivered.

I feel I’m going to go through pain like never before after the tablets run out on Monday.

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TTFNski!
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