FND symptoms

Inchie: Tuesday 19th May 2026 – A fall & A Flood

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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The Ode explains my early-morning kerfuffle.
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We had not had time to properly clean the wet room. But my attention was on the flaming new computer mysteries with Corel Draw, the new complicated Note app, and my seemingly new to me (I’m fibbing, done it months now, even on the old keyboard) habit of hitting the wrong combinations of keys, and getting up so many baffling options to choose if I wish to continue using programs I’ve never heard of.
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Carer Rashid, then Dilan, then Mizra, then Carer Ejaz called today. Damned busy, so much that this is going to be another rushed, no-time-to-do-properly, blog.
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The second call was to Dilan. Who got the laundry started and called Jenny to let her know. Then I asked him and explained what I’d like done to finish the wet room cleaning.
He did a great job!
Hard to see the depth of or even the water…
You can see how it soaked the box of Dettol.
Later, Carer Dilan tackled it after taking the laundry down to the laundry and putting it in the washer. 
Cleaned up the stuff I’d dropped in the corner.
And behind the pipework.
Mats down, much betterer!
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Lovely view this afternoon.
I discovered a reason for my making so many errors of the computer, CorelDraw, MS Word, Excel and the blog.
I’d been looking at the ‘Cool’ battery clock calendar! This time, at a quarter to one PM, I had not updated the clock’s date for two days! Naturally, for me anyway, I swore at myself, added some locally used curses and insults, spat, and sulked for quite a while. Went to do what so many folks do, I made a brew of my favourite tea and got some biscuits out to dunk. They didn’t get dunked. I dropped the mug, and the handle came off. Undeterred, I made another brew of Glengettie with it. Feeling rather smug didn’t last long either; a hairline crack sent the freshly made tea spilling out, then the mug cracked and broke. Sending tea all over the counter, then down the cupboard doors below, decorating my Khagoule as it did so. 
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Two shots from the kitchenette window as I made a third mug of tea, Co-op 99 this time.
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The Carer took these two later.
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I partly made a meal, just some spuds to add to it. I haven’t got any fresh ones, so I opened the last tin.
Then I realised that only Asda, Iceland, Ocado, and Morrisons had rejected my sign-in to place an order. Because it was on the new computer. I half-heartedly tried J Sainsbury’s. And got in! Hopefully I’ll have bread, tomatoes, a few ready-made meals, bikkies, potatoes, veg and mushrooms in the morning.
Hopefully, (I did, but it was a terrible day).
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Inchie: Wed/Thru 13/14th May 2026-Horrendous Day!

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Things went All-Apeshit on Thursday Morning.
Not that they were much better on Wednesday, just horribly, even worse on Thursday.
With the fear of sorting things out for Friday, the visit to the Audio Clinic, and worries about whether a Carer had been arranged to go with me as required, and with transport not yet confirmed, I am in a bit of mental turmoil. Having no calls for days from the Carers who Care, Mizra & Ejaz, I am getting no information about these things. I only found out late today that the 1-hour extra call that didn’t happen Monday had been moved to Friday, for the escort to the Clinic, thanks to Mizra. 
I only started this blog late Thursday morning.
After sorting out the Double-Whammy of Whoopsiedangleplops, I suffered. I’ll explain these now to avoid having to repeat them later and to save time.
Also, the two blogs will not be formatted as usual and will undoubtedly be error-ridden due to my rush to complete them. To add to the problems, on Wednesday afternoon, Trotsky Terence got hyperactive. Anne Gyna seems to have settled back into one of her painful, nasty periods.
Thursday’s Nightmare, while it’s fresh in my mind.
This sort of thing is happening far too often.
Anne Gyna guaranteed a terrible, ever-waking night’s rest. My tierdness could do with a more precise name. 
I felt lethargic, bone-weary, drained, knackered, fatigued, and weak, each and every time that the stabbing Anne Gyna woke me up. Taking longer to get back to sleep each time, thanks to incoming houndings from ,bringing up the past and a selection of my mistakes I’ve made. At about 04:30hrs, I woke without any Anne Gyna pains and felt the urgent need of the .
I’d not made it into the bed, and had fallen asleep in the fifth-hand Charity shop bought £300, broken down, Catheter tube crunching, dried blood-covered, grotty, dirty, and creaking recliner. The necessity of speed was hampered by Kagoule, a long dressing gown, and I wrapped myself up in a large throw. Had to free myself from those, then grab the extra long night Catheter bag tube, and without time or thought of doing any balance exercises, no time to, I fumbled my way with the walking stick and Catheter pouch to the wet room…
I think you can guess what was coming. 
The evacuation started well before I reached the Porcelain Throne. I tore off the Dressing gown and pulled up the long Kaghoule, sat and threw the night bag full of urine away on the floor, to concentrate on Trotsky Terence Torrent that flowed. 
As I sat there while the innards spurted out tiny soft blotches of wet excrement into the bowl…
This is when I noticed several tiny soft blotches of wet excrement on the floor. My first concern was when they had escaped and had fouled the Kaghoule and my legs. The answer to both thoughts was yes! Not that it was funny at the time, but I think I said out loud, “Oh, Shit!” The thought of cleaning up, with all the associated pain of bending down, went through my mind… But then things got even messier and worse!
As I stood up to check my clothing and body, I espied that the night pouch was leaking its urine, and slowly filling the wet room floor.
There I was, with the floor covered in two rolls of kitchen paper to help drain the fluid, and as it did, about 8 of the tiny brown boblets that had escaped earlier showed through. I tore the long, partly soiled khagoule off and fetched the needed toilet rolls and kitchen towels from the hallway.  
I was too angry at myself to cry.
After getting the used towels up with the long picker-upper and spraying the floor with disinfectant, I applied another load of towels, then turned my attention to cleaning up my body.
The towels were left, the WC needed cleaning, and I somehow decided to get a stand-up wash and shave. 
Got the teeth cleaned, then had a good body scrub and shave. All in a hurry, as I wanted to get the medications that the Carer would normally do. (Well, Ezaz & Mizra would automatically), done and to sort out the floor.
The shave proved to be one of my worst-ever; I hurried so quickly. Later, I realised I may as well not have bothered. Growth on the chin and neck seemed untouched by my panicky effort to cut them.
I had to have a shave later to make things right. I did this because the Clinic appointment is at 10:00 hours in the morning, and the lift has not yet been confirmed; a taxi may need to be ordered. Time will be at a premium. My head was getting confused, and I got on with the body, man breasts, underarms barrier creaming, testicle ointmenting, then I got Germoloided.
Leaving the “Painful One”, cowardly until last. 

Tackled the rest of the floor and WC cleaning. A painful job, and Anne Gyna was not happy at all.
As I was tidying up, the intercom chimed. It was the Carer, Rashid, coming. I put the kettle on as he arrived. 
A bad listener by nature, Rashid is. But I had to tell someone of my morning disasters.
He issued the medications, and I started blurting out my Yale of Woe. As I chuntered of, I noticed he was head down on his mobile again. I asked him if I was boring him. I restarted from the beginning of the tale, after asking him to listen, and he will learn some of my problems… not that you would be interested, of course. No reply. When I got to the medicationing I’d done, I told him he only had the stomach folds to barrier cream this morning. Carrying on, I glanced at him, back on his mobile, so I gave up.
He asked if I needed any Peptac. I said no thanks, and he gave me a dose of Peptac.
Then he came over with the barrier cream. I’d just told him what I’d done already, reminding him that only the tummy folds needed doing, and he put the barrier cream away. No body-checks done. No Phorpaining anywhere. No breakfast offered. No tea making offered… mind you, I was pleased about that. The last time He made one, I had to clean up spilt tea on the counter, down the cupboard below and on the floor. And the tea he made was horrible. Hahaha!
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Delivered today, my long-awaited long brush and dustpan wet. To replace the broken one from Amazon. Crap again, my fault, I expected and thought I was buying a long handled dustpan, but as you can see in these snaps I took, it has to be held with your foot. Meaning having to bend down to empty it. Bending is the reason I ordered it in the first place. I just can’t win, can I?
Ocado: Gorgeous, tasty food.
Isle of Man tomatoes
Treats for Jen & Frank, Nurses & Carers
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Rainy morning
Brightened up a bit
Darkened, but no rain
Started feeling unwell, and
made an early meal
Last photo, rain back

I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV and eat the meal.
And fell asleep, but not for long, the return of Anne Gyna season started. Humph!
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THURSDAY 14th MAY 2066
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MISTAKES FOUND ON THE URINE COUNT, I’ll correct them later
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Hard work catching up. The waking-up farce from today I’ve already written, but not forgotten.

Let’s see, Number One: Premature involuntary escape from the rear end – dealt with and reported earlier.
Number two: Trotsky Terence Torrent messed me up even further, and the floor.
Number Three: The night pouch spit and covered the wetroom floor, already with bloblets of evacuated product on it from escapage
Number Four: Later, I emptied the day bag with the butterfly control valve. I’m not sure whether I didn’t close it or caught it later, causing it to release urine. I noticed this two hours later.
Now I urinated on both legs and feet, and my socks.
Number Five: Getting my docks of triggered Back-Pain Brenda and Fractured Knee Frank into action.
Number Five: Then I had to hand-wash the kaghoule and socks. Or I’d have no clean ones left to use. While emptying the bowl of soapy water, I spilt most of it onto the kitchenette floor.
Number Six: I could not find the camera to take photos for the record. I used the old one, which may or may not work for me.
Number Six: 
Got a text from the bank; £1040 had gone out of the debits. I need help on this one.
I told the Carer of my problems. No comment made.
Carer Ejaz did one call, which was annoying, cause when I told the other chap about the cash, he didn’t comment or even look at the text. Taking away Ejaz and Mizra to be replaced with a non-caring Carer brings the idea of going into a home a little more acceptable. Then I would not have to wait 6 or more days to get help with banking (8 days since any). I am not prepared to let a Carer who helps himself to food from the freezer check my banking. Shopping (11 days since any), and arranging lifts to clinics, Doctors, Dentists, chemists, and opticians, which would either be unnecessary or so much easier. As with the problems today… Mind you, if they knew about these problems I’m having, I would not be popular or possibly accepted as a patient.

A FEW PHOTOS.  
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Kaghouls and socks to wash, de-urinate!
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Sorry, but I must stop now,
Lots to prepare for and do.
I’m not really up to going out tomorrow, but my need of hearing aids, whatever they cost me, is crucial.
I may have to wait a couple of weeks for them as well.
Today has left me so depressed.
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I’ve not felt as bad for a long time,
Mentally & physically out of tune,
So many things going apeshit…
I don’t like confusion, not one bit,
Lifts have not been arranged for the Clinic yet
Things to take: Do I need a bus ticket?
Which Carer is due? Ah, I think Mizra,
If owt else goes wrong, I’ll be all aquiver,
Something’ll happen; My mental barometer,
At rear-end escapages? I shudder,
Or leakages from the Catheter?
Some say bad luck is bilgewater…
I prayed life may improve, at least easier,
It got worse, not better…
I blame Starmer!
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Inchie: Tuesday 12th May 2026 Carer Missed Call

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I rose singing out loud at 0325hrs. Took off the nocturnal Catheter pouch, got up and ran with it to the wet room, emptied it and returned for my morning exercises. Stripped off the nightwear and naked, I went onto the balcony, where I keep my weights. Grabbed a 240lb barbell and did a hundred waist-lifts. Got on the sit-up machine for 600 tugs, touched my toes 200 times, dived down for 400 press-ups. Then 250 squats, 300 planks & lunges. Opened the windows and yodelled out my greetings to the world, followed by a Tarzan Talk with the crows. A robust “Aah-eeh-ah-eeh-aaaaaah!” Jogging in place, jumping jacks, high knees, splits, then launched into ten minutes of shadow-boxing, with some neat left undercuts thrown in. Knee raises, one-leg stands, and leg extensions.
15-Min Beginner Cardio Circuits, including chair squats and 15 downward squats. Abdominal crunches, bent-over-rows, then nipped out and down in the lift and ran back up the fire-escape stairs, eleven double floors.
Back in the flat, drank a gallon of carrot juice and made a banana-and-garlic puree.  
Well, alright, I only did 300 press-ups.
I’ll start again…
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I jumped awake at 0325hrs, this was thanks to who had been having a go at me about so many things I’d done, failed to do, lost, done wrong, forgotten about, or misunderstood. I usually cope alright with these attacks, but today was critically different. He was digging up memories not from years ago, as he usually does, but having a go at me about fresh stuff! The Git! 
But as it kicked in, of took away my concentration; heavenly, I nodded off back to the land of nod. Annie was having none of that, and she kept giving me a good twinge of pain to wake me regularly.
At around 0500hrs, I moved to a different position and banged the ingrowing toenail on the bedpost.
Swore and cursed and joined me. I don’t think I did anything for a long time, just lay there, sadly feeling sorry for myself.
Slowly, I came to appreciate that the Catheter Flow back was pain-free, and I almost cheered up. 
Freed the night bag, and as I did so, an involuntary escapage of wind from the rear end infused the flat, and probably others as well. It was putrid!
My timing in getting sat on the porcelain this morning was perfect.
Just before I got seated, the evacuation started of its own accord, and kept coming for a good while.
I think I coughed as the aroma filled the wet room. And it did, too. However, I’m a little confused about what happened, for I had a seated seizure mid-flow. When I came out-of-it, the usual acidicness upflowed into the throat and mouth, yet the disorientation seemed so mild compared to normal.
As I rose and started to wipe and wash the rear end, I realised I could no longer smell the pong that had permeated everywhere; it seemed to me to have been there a couple of minutes earlier. 
Cleaning up, I knocked the battery clock off of the shelf. It showed 0635hrs? Impossible, I must have caught something when I used the picker-upperer to retrieve the AAA battery clock. Finished cleaning, grabbed 4-legged Wally, the walking stick, and casually made my way to the kitchen to get the kettle and make a brew of Glengettie tea. Spotting the clock on the window ledge, telling me it was 0650hrs. Where did nearly 2 hours in the wetroom disappear to? I had to check I was not going bonkers… well, no more than is usual, and got the mobile phone to check the right time. It was indeed 0655hrs. I think I’d had a second seizure, because there was no acidic taste in my chest, mouth or throat. I returned to the kitchenette and found I had not switched the kettle on. No big issue in itself. But I felt certain, positive that I had done so. Is it going to be another one of those days? My EQ has not mentioned what to expect or given me any warnings.

I made the brew, let it mash for a while, and went to the fridge to get the milk. Flippin’ eck! The fridge had a load of water slopping about at the bottom! Had to take out or move about the stuff and used a whole new roll of kitchen roll to dry it up. I checked the cans and bottles for leaks, but found none. Then found I had a few items out of date. Cheese and yoghourts. Of course, with my eyesight problems, I may well have missed some. Like last week, when I checked a jar of pickled mushrooms, thinking I must eat this soon. I thought it said Use by May 28… well, it did. But when Mizra checked it on Saturday, May 28, it was confirmed, but the year? Well, that was verified as 2025!
The mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again!
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I got the computer going on the second try and started updating the blog… then the Carer arrived. Hard Work. He cleaned the testicle area, but not as the nurse told him to. Disconcerting.

By the time midday arrived, I’d been to the toilet for a rear-end job four times. Each one was of the same or a similar type. Phooey, yellow and soft, but not liquid. 

The extra-Carer call for 1330 > 1430hrs (cleaning) did not happen. No one has contacted me. Which is disappointing to say the least. When I did mention this to Carer Rachid, he offered no advice, help, or even a response, as far as I can tell. No apology (not that it is his fault), no support. No help with letters or emails.
Maybe they want to lose me from their books? They have taken E and M off of my daily rota, which is heartbreaking. The two best, I lose. Two hard-to-work-with replacements. There may be something in the air with this action. That I will not like, just a message from EQ. Could be an ulterior motive, surreptitiousness, clandestine, perhaps.
Or it would just be my usual bad luck.

bleeding & sore. We’ve run out of Anusol Cream yet again. Carer informed, no reply, or signs of interest given. Asked him to order some. No response received.

The INR blood girl called in and out in six minutes.
Oh, yes, she’s quick on her feet. Hehehe!

THE FEW PHOTOS:

The filthy gap between the now non-working cooker and the corner counter. I tried to clean it a bit.
Did my best. When no Cleaner-Carer arrived today.
Beautiful sky
But it wasn’t very warm
The Tree Copse
Closer,
A bit of blood from the piles late on Ran out of Haemorrhoid cream. No idea whether any Anusol has been ordered. Carer E used to handle all prescription ordering, but he no longer comes in during the week. A heartbreaking loss, and no idea, because no communication is coming from the new guys. I don’t even get any information or contacted when a Carer fails to turn up. I know these things happen, sometimes out of the company’s control.

Wobbly night shot
Sad meal.
Worra Day!

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HORRIBLE DAY
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Not feeling up to much, Sorry.
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Inchy: Sun/Mon 10-11th May 2026

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BP AND TEMP UP
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A mixed Sunday. Starting with my inability to move when I woke up. No medical or mental problems as such. I just felt so tired out and drained. I think I’ve worked out what the problem was, but I can’t be certain. But then, whenever could I be? Not for years.
I was dreaming that I was in the porta-cabin where we used to hold the weekly social get-together for the residents. I really did think I was there, and could see and talk to the folks enjoying the meeting that Jenny used to organise. I reckon this caused my reluctance to get up… I must have been trying to nod off again to get back to the enjoyment and fun I was having again. See Gaynor, Cynth, Jenny, Joe, and the others again.
I know it sounds strange, but I was asleep and was knowingly trying to reach for the dream to reappear. 
I part-slept for longer than I have since having my 1996 Covid jab, when I slept for 22 hours.
I was eventually forced to get up by a disgusted-looking Carer Dilan. Not amused at all.

, after the Carer departed – I farted, and near as it is possible for me, I darted, well, hobbled swiftly to the wet room and Porcelain Throne… I’m sure my regular readers will know what happened next… but I’ll tell you, I didn’t make it in time! Then into clearing and cleaning-up mode. 

Next: After a long battle with the computer, and not knowing what I was doing, I
rather miraculously got it to boot into action.
Then spent hours and hours doing the one-off blog of Mr Starmer’s reaction to the disastrous local election result for Labour. I enjoyed doing that, but did not get it done until very late. And I was so tired again. Possibly, I thought I might get back to the Wednesday Social in the porta-cabin, if I got my head down?
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Snaps of the day
Bootifull!
Amazing skies
Accidental photo, Hehe!

Attempted wide shots, erm, failed.
Plates of meat status
A better effort
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Sorry, no Ode today. Just
A TALE OF WOE… Maybe later?
After removing the night bag, with only 500ml in it, and taking some photos, sorting the wast bins, having a wash, shave and shit,  doing my teggies, and getting the dressing gown on… the 
Catheter Flowback started again. And this time it was worse than the last two occasions.
Carer Rachid arrived and saw the pain and heard the bad language each time the stabbing, stinging pains hit me. I’ll call the nurses later to see if they can attend, too early in the day yet.

Rashid called again. I was in a lot of pain from the return of the Catheter flowback pains. He said he’ll phone for an ambulance. I explained that I’d called the District Nurses, who will be calling on me, so no need. Adding, if I go by ambulance, I’ll have another nine-hour wait in a corridor to be seen, and I didn’t fancy that again. He picked up the phone to dial 999. I said, “Do not use the landline; if you use your phone, any problems, they will phone you back, and then you’ll keep in touch with what is happening. He carried on using the landline. I made sure what to do when I took the phone, in case of it was not needed. The lady asked me to ring 999 to cancel. Which Rasid later did… on the landline. When he made his next call, the Nurse arrived. She got me on the bed, and he came leaning over me to see things. I asked for a bit of privacy. The procedure took a long time, and the Nurse handled it well. She got the tube out and showed me the black on the inner end of it, with a lot of gunk in it, like last time. Saying this can happen when we get older. So it might not be an infection. She asked Rachid to do a proper job of cleaning the testicle area. She is ordering some foam spray to clean the skin before applying the Barrier Cream. “You’ve made a right mess here.” That didn’t go down well! Inserting the new tube was almost painless; she first used a lot of the pain gel.
The Nurse took a urine sample to test for infection—the new pouch filled in seconds. The Urine was almost red. The only thing was, after she had gone. I found that the new pouch had a butterfly release valve. I’d stopped using them when I kept catching the clip and opening it. Peeing on my legs, slippers and on the carpet. Fingers crossed. Haha!

Photographs of the day
This one was taken when I woke during the night.
Why did I take these?
Anyone’s guess, Tsk!
Ah, the not-working Catheter.
The Catheter started working again seconds after, thanks to the nurses’ skills.
The Sun kept disappearing.
All-Starmer on the News.
The first flow after the initial torrent.
A bit bloody, as was anticipated.
A high shot here.
Seems the Sun was losing
the battle again. Lower down,
it was getting through.
But, another mystery here; 
Why did the shot of it
not get on to the SD card?
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Despite being overjoyed at getting the Catheter agony removed, I am now feeling very queasy, and not at all like wanting to eat anything. Another Mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind: which is now losing its few marbles it has left.
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The last late snaps…
Late sundown.
Late sundown, closer
Help was needed from the Carer to
get this one ready.
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All the regular pains returned later on.
The Ingrowing-Toenail-Titus, Back-Pain-Brenda, Lymphorea-Leslie, Colin-Cramps, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Kidney-Pains-Kitty, Fractured-Knee-Frank, Duodenal Donald, and even Anne Gyna threw in her pennorth of pain. But, with the memory of today’s chronic Catheter Flowback Pains, I almost welcomed the return of my regular ailment, which had been overshadowed by the more vicious, cruel Bladder-Blockage-Beryl agony that no medication could counter. Thank heavens the Nurse came. 🤎
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Inchie: Fri 13 Mar 2026. ‘Orrible Day

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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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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HAVE A GREAT DAY
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Inchie: Thursday 12th March 2026

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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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: Tuesday 10th March 2026

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Despite the last five days of mayhem, despair and failures, I lay there in the bed and almost slightly felt hopeful that the day would be a better one. It helped, no doubt, that bothersome Back-Pain-Brenda was AWOL. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was trying to make up for that, as best she could. I removed the nocturnal catcher pouch and stood to do the morning balance exercises and assessments, and the door chime chimed. Good heavens, it was gone 08:00hrs! I did get to bed late, but I still got a decent, not broken often, five hours in.

Ejaz got the medications sorted out, foamed and creamed the toes and ankles, and again, they seemed better than the day before. But not the right leg, that seems to have accrued the oddest-looking batch of new marks, scars, spots and pimples. Almost artistic, really. Hahaha! I think the yellow streaks down the leg were due to my leaving the flash on for Kodak Tim 2. Ejaz told me that the new Carer time will be increased. But I’d forgotten the day he gave me. I’ll check later. As he trotted off, a food delivery arrived. Ejaz took the bags through to the kitchen, then the lad had to fly. Bless him.

I got on the computer to find the meal shot for last night… well, this morning had not been added, so here it is.
Soft cheese on soft white bread, Anya, knobbly potatoes. Imitation fish sticks and some tomatoes. The fries were too hard to eat, but I soon gobbled up the rest of the meal. Nice!

I thought I heard something drop from the kitchen, and went in to investigate. All seemed okay, and I got Kodak Tim-2 again and took some snaps of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I think I made another error with the last one. It came out, as you can see, totally different to the first two. Part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again! I must ask Tim Price about this phenomenon with the last snap.

A while later, I nipped out to take a picture of the end car park on Citrus Way. Did okay with this effort. Caught the sun coming down from Mapperley, high above. No mudslide on the ground this morning.

I phoned Jenny to see if I could take down some of the delivered food and treats. She mentioned that she’s read my blog, noticed that I have a wheelchair I’m not using, and asked if she could give it to a resident in need. No problem, and I got it readied for Frank to collect it later. I took two rubbish bags to the chute. Then I took down the carrier and left it outside her door, with the nibbles inside.

Frank came up to collect the wheelchair, and I showed him what I know about it, brakes for the person in the chair and the pusher, and where they were. I checked that they were all operative, working okay.

Back on the computer, CorelDraw seemed to be behaving itself, but I’m still nervous for later.

Got the day’s Ode completed. Then found a plastic envelope on the hallway carpet. It must have fallen out of the wheelchair as we struggled to get it out of the door earlier. Two stick-on reflectors. I rang Jenny to let her know. She is coming tomorrow to see Ejaz about her old mobile that she is giving me, and to get it set up, bless her cotton socks. 🌸 She said she’d collect them then.

I found a couple of many years-old photos from when I had the stroke.
The first one is at the Nottingham City Hospital, Newell ASU Unit. Where they gave me Cloperdoggerel, and the state you see my legs in was from this. They discovered I was allergic to the drugs in it. Or the Clopidogrel mixture. Sister Jane took the photo during her visit. 
Then to the Oaks Care Home for a couple of months. I took the mass of get-well cards with me, all three of them. The memories of this place linger Today. This is what put me off the idea of going into one at first. A few true tales of events; ine I cannot mention, cause after the knife attack, they deemed it best not to get the police involved.
Mornings: The door would burst open, “Let’s have you up, get a wash and dressed.” Later, a loud thump or two on the door, and sometimes the door opened, and a voice would shout, “BREAKFAST IN TEN MINUTES, don’t be late!”
Weekly: Ah, the laundry, I lost a cardigan, a hat, two T-shirts, four underpants, and ended up with five odd socks. When my scarf was not returned, I bravely mentioned it to the lady who was making a right mess of putting on my leg straps, but got no answer. Then spotted a Carer in the hallway and asked if my scarf had been found. “No!” I thanked her. That night in the dining room, I sat down and saw a resident wearing a scarf similar to the one I had lost. I said nothing. Oh, I nearly forgot: one day I got the laundry back with two odd socks… my hat was missing, and as a bonus of two pink brassieres!
Tea: Thud, door opens: I once had the temerity to ask what it was. “Hot Dog!” I got down to find it was just that. A stale roll with a frankfurter in it. Nothing else, while those around me got chips, ketchup and bread.
Dinner: Thud, clunk. “Dinner in ten minutes, don’t be late.” I got down as fast as I could, but on two occasions, being new, it seemed they thought I was a visitor and got no food at all! (True!)
I made the mistake of trying to talk to the resident in the community room; just once was enough.
I asked him something like, £have you been in here long?” I got fired back at me; “I’m trying to watch the FΧπψϖϒing TV!” I sarcastically gave the staff some treats when I left, overdoing it by saying, “I like to thank you all for the great care given to me!” I waited a few seconds, then gave them all the odd socks I’d got back from the laundry; “If the others ever come back to life, or are found, you can keep these, and match them up!” My intended mockery was wasted. All I got back from any of them, well, one of them was… “Oh! Cheers!” as he opened the box of Roses and handed them around. I just had a sinking feeling… what if they decide I have to go into a home and pick this one?
I’ll be in reet-schnook then!
Then there was this photo of the Geriatric Unit, from last November’s tumble-rumble. They diagnosed me with water on the brain, Hydrocephalus (NPH). Last week, I mentioned it to the nurse and was told I didn’t have that; I’d had a small TBI in the brain. They can do nothing about it. That explains why I’ve been waiting for the trephination operation. At least I won’t need that now, and that’s why no one got in touch. Hehe!
That’s put my mind at rest.

I cracked on with the blog for a couple of hours, guzzling the mineral water like it was an elixir.
When I stood up, I recall at first thinking to myself, well, talking to me as well; ‘Well, your balance is better now, mate! Then the Catheter pouch dropped down, giving Little Inchie a surprising tug! By gum, it had filled up sharpish near the 300ml mark on the bag. I emptied it and disinfected.

I rang Jenny to ask if I could bring the stick-on reflectors to her flat. There was something we spoke about, something else, I think. But the brain is not at its best late in the day. Jenny will be calling tomorrow with the mobile phone and said she’d collect the reflectors then.
I poddled to the kitchenette and snapped a few more reasonable photographicalisations of the wild-looking clouds. They gave me the impression that they were not happy. Wonder if we’ll get a sunset view later?

Ejaz was a little quiet and unresponsive to my natterings. I hope he’s going to be alright, and not worrying about something. He should be better in the morning, when he meets with Jenny, and maybe Frank, too. We need his mobile phone skills. I can’t cope with the one I’ve got, and that has no internet on it. An easy-to-use product for the elderly, it said. Ejaz, Joe, Akram, and Mirzra have all tried to get a ringtone on the phone. And failed, what chance have I? Zilch comes to mind. 

As I went to get the kettle on for the first brew of the day, I just had to take more snaps of the clouds. This first one was as wide as I could get on Koah Tim-2. Then I tried a close-up shot. To me, this is a paralania delight. The sun is doing its best to burst through the gap in the multi-shaded clouds. I saw a creature’s head, a whale shape and a ghost in this like photographicalisation. I’ll keep looking in case it changes again.

I tested the potatoes cooking in the slow cooker…
Trapped my hand in the drawer while getting the spoon. But no problem, it’s still looking good.
It’s only physical pain, I’m good with that – it’s the mental pains of existence that get to me.
Did I just write that? Good stuff  !

I’d forgotten to vlean mt teeth. So off I went to the wet room and used the new soft toothbrush. Ejaz came and went ikn with me. We didn’t half laugh when we looked at the box. It had two brushes in it. They were for children to use. With an old-fashioned sucker on them, to stick it on Porcelain. Hehe!

Boy, the clouds are getting scary in a way.
I think these could be used as a cover for a horror story. Depict the lack of control, mortals have to change the inevitable?
An ever-lurking threat to humanity?
I might use one of them as an Ode leader graphic?
I know, an Ode to the influence cast by 21st century politicians & Oligarchs Today?

I think Today was my best one for months.
The feeling I had when I woke up must have come from my EQ, possibly?

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TTFN
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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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