Frustration Frank – Inchie Today

Inchie Today: Wed 20 Aug – A Daymare afternoon & evening!

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What invention can you recall that is now Zeerust?
The Sinclair C5 was, I think, the wackiest,
I can’t recall seeing one of these at all,
I did try it, I had a ball!
Another one that I never knew!
Oh, a two-seater, too!

One of the technological oddities of the 1980s is making a comeback of sorts. The nephew of Sir Clive Sinclair – the man responsible for the famous, but flawed Sinclair C5 – is marketing an updated version of the diminutive electric vehicle called the Iris eTrike. The new street-legal, one-person hybrid electric/pedal-powered tricycle is billed as faster and safer than its 1980s predecessor and sports a Plexiglas canopy, so it can be used in all weathers. Dogressing here: Incidentally, I loved the Sinclair ZX computer to bits!
This new Iris eTrike, in its 250W EAPC (Electrically Assisted Pedal Cycle) version, is legally considered a bicycle in the UK and can be ridden by those 14 years old and above on roads and cycle paths wherever bicycles are permitted. It does not require registration, tax, insurance, or a driving license. The rider is not required to wear a helmet. I hope it doesn’t catch on like eScooters, apparently, since their introduction in 2019 to July 2025, there’s been 69 (including 25 children, & 18 pensioners) reported deaths involving escooters. Additionally, there were 628 casualties admitted to hospitals with serious injuries between 2020 and June 2024. A significant number of e-scooter injuries are not reported to the police.
Back to the Ode, I got research impulses then, sorry.

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As a nipper, I fancied being a flautist,
Not that I was musical, I was tuneless,
In the cadets, we were learning about flamethrowers,
The TSM’s daughter, Iris, came in; legs and breasts? Corkers!
I got the urge for passion and frivolities,
I spoke with her, no time for faintheartedness,
She was in the church band, I started flaunting…
After our first meeting, we started courting,
Thick thighs, passion-filled, but not daunting…
How long would it be before I was attempting…
To get close, have a grope and into her knickers?
That night I tried my goddamnedest…
I worked, I was transported to heavenliness,
We melded together; there was no hiatus…
Her attractiveness? Here weightiness & willingness,
No hypersensitiveness, it was just pure marmonious,
Our bondings may well have been erroneous,
But to we youngsters, found them frabjous,
Iris said, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious!
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THE MORNING BLISSES… THEN, THE PM AND EVENING COLLIESHANGIES!
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No Blogging Achieved! No time, no successes, nothing went right this afternoon. It would have been a difficult task, with all the extra jobs that needed to be done, or as today, not done. With failures, and . A mentally & physically draining, frustrating, annoying, anger-making, late seizure-ridden, pain-polluting, ill-making, infuriating, maddening, barely-endurable, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna & Frustration Frank creating, sod of an excruciating infested, making my blood boil, day.
Life is not working – I am not coping. I have never felt so angered, aggravated or exasperated. Anxious, uneasy, nervous, tensed-up, worried, and pissed-off with life. Solutions are unavailable, and ten-minute visits from different Carers eliminate them from solving anything. The problems remain, despite my begging Wardens, Carers & anyone daft enough to listen to me, for help. None of the situations and or issues that were deemed fit to torment me today were my fault. (Well, maybe the tumble – but that was well-timed, the only bit of good luck I had all day, I think. Carer Ejaz rescued me again. Got me up with a struggle) Usually, they crop up when there is no help available from a Carer or Warden.

The farce with the laundry is representative of what I mean. Carer Ejaz arrived for the one extended visit of the week. Getting me back on my feet from the tumble was his first job. Still, at this point, we did have a laugh between us. No injuries, just aching back and a bruise on my hand, neither of which was of any significance. (By night I was thinking the same thing about me, sad innit?)
Ejaz took the laundry, got it in the washer and returned to make some phone calls for me. He used my mobile, which is going to cost me. Carer Nimra uses her phone, which charges me by the minute or part of a minute. The first call he made for me was to the Audio Centre. To make an appointment for me on Wednesday, so I can take a Carer with me. He found out that they are only open for 3 days a week now, not including Wednesdays! He received a recorded message stating that they are only open to patients on Mondays, Tuesdays & Thursdays. So, since he failed to make an appointment through no fault of his own, I’ll have to go on my own if we ever make one. I hope I get knocked down on the way, then Mr Pensioner-Hating Starmer can be thanked for his failed promises to ‘mend the NHS’, and he may be able to give himself another notch for another pensioner killed, who couldn’t hear the electric car that killed him. Come to think of it, waiting for the Glaucoma operation, I wouldn’t see it either.
I digressed there.
Ejaz went down and moved the washing into the dryer. I returned and asked him to mop the kitchen and wet room for me. Which he did, in a fashion.
He sorted the medication drawer and went down to collect the laundry. He returned, saying it was still wet, too wet, and his time was up. Telling me to tell the 17:00hr Carer to collect it then.
No way, I’ve lost laundry twice before that I left in a machine. My fault, I’d forgotten on both occasions that it was still doyen there. Carer Ejaz shot off.
I stopped what miserable bit of blogging that I’d done and made a brew. 35 minutes later, I painfully hobbled down to the laundry room to investigate.
My clothes were in the dryer, tumbling away. I returned to the flat to find it had 25 minutes left to run. Drank my cold tea, used the Porcelain Throne.

I went back down the 13 floors in the lift to check on the dryer again. The dryer was still churning. I stopped it, opened the door, and the clothes were still wet through and cold! Grrr!
I couldn’t put it in the other dryer because someone else had already used it.
Back up to the flat. 40 minutes later, I frustratedly returned to move my clobber into the other machine. But, No! A different load of clothes was now in the dryer. So, I stayed down in the laundry room. To make sure this did not happen again. An hour later, the dryer was still running. Carer Nimra came into the lobby, admitted by some garden workers.

Luckily, I’d left the door open, and saw her walking by talking to the young men, and called out, else she would have gone my way and up to the flat, which would cause even more complications. I explained the situation, and she took out the dry clothes from the dryer and threw mine into it. And we poddled up to the flat. Medications issued. Telling me she had had a bad day too. Six minutes later, she was off.

I went down to keep an eye on the dryer, in case someone else took mine out. A chap came in, and I told him about the first dryer being kaputt. But he still put his things in it and tried to get it to work. He was keen for me to take mine out so he could use dryer two. I foolishly took out my clothes, finding they were not thoroughly dried by a long shot.

I was spitting blood by the time I waited for the dryer, then feeling a fool for taking it out early to appease the grunting chap. I was too tired and tense, and with no time to spare, I could only manage a bit on the blog post! I got even more agitated and swore a lot when I got into the flat and found the slippers still soaked, and all the clothes needed hanging to dry all over the place. The wet room, kitchenette, hallway, and the already filled slow-airer.

Full of angst, weary, and tired out, I managed to get some food sorted, a stew cooked in the microwave.

Sat down to watch some TV to unwind, and fell deeply asleep. Shooting away at 04:00hrs, with the TV still on, the remote balancing on my man breasts, and bile coming up through my throat.

So many other things happened today. Good stuff in the morning! But, I’m so far behind again. And cannot read the sparse notes I’ve put in the memory pad.
I’ll have to sort the SD card and any photos I might have taken in the morning, in hopes of jiggling my memory of them into action.

Urine 4.5 level

Waking up time, Humph!

I very nearly made the bed!

Taken from the computer chair

Terrible kitchen view shot

Car park in the drizzle

Two khagules to hand wash

Hung them to dry in the wet room

Much bleeding gums

Memory pad & mug of tea

The rain stopped

Whoops, started again!

Carer Ejaz arrived. If I’d known what
lay ahead, I wouldn’t have let him in.

The following six hours of misery, I’ve got out of the way earlier in the blog.

The red car is back on the chevrons.

I’m not sure how I managed to make this meal.
I had a few mini-seizures while making it. I’d put a potato in the slow-cooker about nine hours earlier and forgot about it. A can of beef stew, garden peas, chick peas, Gung Po sauce, mushroom ketchup, pickled gherkins & beetroot were added, and finally, the potato was cut up. Then everything was mixed together. Microwaved it for six minutes. No mess in the kitchen in the morning!
Another mystery: How did I not burn any food or myself, cut myself, drop anything, or remember this bit of the cooking when other things are blank? The notepad writing looks like shorthand again.

Another messy, spirit-sapping, farcical day.
I’m not sorry it went away!

Inchy Today: Saturday 12th July 2025

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I’m not sure of the theme of this Ode,
My brain took off on the highroad,
I’d got harrowed and I heehawed,
I’ve more facts I’d like to Herald…
My memory, that once glowed, is now gnawed,
But my brain is Doreen Dementia-Dominated,
I feared her when she first bestrode…
Into my skull, with Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, behold!
I don’t pass wind, I sort of noisily displode,
I live with Doreen… Ah, yes, she’s this Odes epode!
This, and my ailments, I spent years enwallowed,
Her qualities I studied and furbellowed,
But my struggles multiplied by a myriad,
So I wrote this little palinode,
I hope you are not too pshawed?
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THIS DAY OF OUR LORD
I just had to show you the Mood results…
Much improved on yesterday.
Of course, there’s time for things
to go apeshit yet, I suppose.
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Going for a record here, to get this caught up with in record time. Probably the longest! Haha!

First chicken view.
That should be the kitchen view.

Health Checks Done
Blood oxygen was low.

I was up late this morning again, without realising how late it was, I poddled to get the
Done. Only got as far as sitting on the Porcelain Throne, nothing evacuated again!
This is the fifth ‘No-Go’ sitting in three days! And two more failed efforts later on!
Hope something moves soon!
Carer Ejaz arrived. He took a snapshot of my legs and issued the medications. He performed a body check and judged the urine colour for me. We swapped farewells as he departed.

Back in the wetroon. All five teeth left were cleaned. Cut my gums. I shaved (one cut), medicated my ailments, & off to make a brew.
Got the cheesy rolls out of the refrigerator.

Second kitchen photo.

Checked the fridge, the
Silesian sausages were in date.

Third kitchen window shot.

Computer on. Catching up on yesterday’s blog took me three hours, plus I got carried away writing a second Ode. Hehehe!

More hours sorting, loading, saving and eventually filing photos in CorelDraw.

Another brew made,

Carer Mizra was in a rush, bless him.

I’m blogging more, but I’m not getting on very well.

Went to make up another water bottle, and put it in the fridge so it’d be cooled later.

The bread rolls I photographed had been in the direct sunlight. They will be edible now.

Two more bottles of water were made up.
I’m peeing well through the catheter!
Wish I could pass from the rear end!

SUNDOWN SERIES

Nice!

Time to do the WP Reading and comments.
Late now, tired out, and it feels like Anne Gyna is going to accompany me with the meal and sleep. She doesn’t half pick her times!

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Sweet Dreams!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 3rd July 2025

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I was told to prepare for all contingencies,
I looked this word up in local libraries,
I accidentally looked up continencies,
Was it summat about taking a piss?
Why would Dad want to tell me this?
He also said I can recall the basics…
On yer paper round, don’t talk to strangers,
And don’t put on any airs & graces…
If anyone tries to rob yer, kick him in the knackers,
If you tear a paper in the letterboxes,
Put a note through with your apologies,
If a dog bites yer or attacks with its claws,
Don’t scream or make any noises…
Waking people up will bring annoyance & grudges!
In the rain, don’t get the paper wet with smudges,
Alright if it gets damp, but not if it oozes,
And use blinds or drapes, but never portières.
I’m not too keen on raviolis,
Not up to doing any exercises,
I wake before the day rises,
That’s due to my nocturnal seizures,
Strong chill, too hot, but I like milder spices,
Used love fondling, groping in various guises,
I’m too old to have any sexual fetishes,
Now, a mug of tea & listen to the Archers,
In pain from the fallen arches,
Stuck indoors, no need for coats & parkas,
Some people are nosey-parkers, not the nurses,
The last woman I fancied was into parrillas,
It was shocking, and she charged us!
Still, I’m ready for reembraces!
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Hectic day again.
I’m miles behind again; at this moment, it’s 16:55hrs tomorrow (Friday)! Just got this far with the blog!
A few notes of the day, No doubt some lost and not o the notepad with me getting more and more uptight & frustrated. Then, the few photos I’ve taken.
I’ll have to stop to make a meal sometime, so I will have to finish this Saturday morning… I’m getting Anne Gyna back again now, and she is not in a good mood with me. Well, she can… Soddit! Duodenal Donald has joined in now! Grumph!

Anne Gyna woke me up at 0520hrs, so I rose and sorted out the night bag. Went to make a mug of tea and make an early start on my Wednesday blog finishing. Thinking I could catch up, I’m losing this. Hahaha! Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications were administered, and ankles, feet, and legs were checked. Much better all round, great!
I spent hours on Odeing, searching for new words to use and getting carried away.

Then, I decided to search for a place that sells footspray and Co-codamol.

Lost hours with the time needed to come out of the many mini-seizures. So many blanks.

Erm…
Afternoon Clouds Delight

Well, things indeed became more concentrated after I made the meal: A baguette cut into three, no-butter butter, many slices of salted green tomatoes lashed into them. A Silesian sausage and crisps.
I found the pot of jelly on Friday night; I’d dropped it when I fell asleep.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Monday 12th May 2025

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In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
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05:20hrs: I shot out of bed and leapt over the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Doing a backward summersault, landing face down, and after doing a few hundred press-ups…
It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
I inched my legs off of the bed. The catheter contraption straps were painful this morning. I detached the nocturnal catheter bag and rose rather too quickly to get the cream and rub some on the leg straps on the leg. I fell backwards on the corner of the bed and felt bleeding.
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove initially. But I got sidetracked when I saw the amazingly clear sky. I got Kodak Tim Two and took this snap of the clouds. Then, I took another wider shot. The Sun was already beginning to come through from behind and causing a mist on the horison.

I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the mess before applying the barrier cream. I cleaned the few teeth I had left and used the mouthwash. I then realised I had not put in the hearing aids. So, I went to fetch and fit them to see if anyone should call early. With the hearing aids in, I heard a strange noise from the kitchen—a tinkling sound.
Yee Gods! The fourth time in three days! Grrr!
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had worse, so no complaints.
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier creamed my armpits, underneath my man breasts and groin, paying careful attention to SOSTH (Spanish Onion Sized Testicle Henry). Below my bulging belly, my still bleeding rear-end sternum. Germolened both ankle ulcers. Then, I got new straps onto the catheter contraption. Barrier creamed them before fitting. Then I tackled .
I’m using the new-to-me Terbinafine hydrochloride cream. I’m also applying the new dropper before the much-feared pain of rubbing it in I can assure you that it was thrown in the waste bin! I’ll never use that again! I shall stick with Betamethasone in the future, even if I have to buy it. Too Painful? YES! This session took a long time to complete. Of course, getting the Protection Pants on was the usual farce. Do they make anything similar to the ones on the right here? It’s suitable that I should put him on the right. Because he’s the most Tory-like Labour Prime Minister ever! Hahaha!

As I noticed the Prison alarm was flashing last night, I didn’t expect to see it again this morning. I got Kodak Tim x2 and took this very poor close as I could get to it to take a snap of the Alarm Flashing (Escaped Prisoner). But it had stopped by the time I’d prattled about to get the shot. Just my luck not to have taken it earlier. Tsk!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse, confused and nervous.
The lad listened. He then sorted out my NHS breakfast.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.

I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.

Back to the Ode writing.

A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.

Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!

Carer Ejaz made the next call. Socks taken off. Medications were issued. We had a little natter, and he was in a rush but asked if he could take my photo with my sunglasses on. Well, ever the budding model, I agreed. A handsome-looking brute! Hahaha!

I showed my prepared-earlier nosh in the microwave pot. Ejaz took a photo of that as well! He shot off after that.

I got the Ode finished and into the blog.

I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.

Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!

Amazing Night Glow!
Then, a closer shot.
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!

It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
The Morrisons bread rolls were tasteless and tough.
Everything else was gorgeous!

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Here’s a four-leaf clover
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Inchy: Thursday 6th February 2025

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Grim: Ayeup, Inchy!
Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me!
Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy!
Inchy: Wot?
Grim: Yer always greet me affably,
Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family!
Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see?
Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy,
my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND,
Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily,
Grim: Can yer explain all that to me?
Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly!
Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day!
Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability,
At making friends, I lost the ability…
Being flat-bound, & many a disability,
Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me,
Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny…
Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie…
So, despite everything, I feel lucky,
I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery…
Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity!
When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me!
Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony!
Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly…
Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly…
Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly,
Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity?
Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery,
Cephalometry, specifically craniometry,
I go willingly and happily…
Grim: Why happily & willingly?
Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready,
Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness, despicableness, or feel any despiteousness?
Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious,
How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness?
Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening,
Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating…
Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating!
Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating,
one event watery, the next constipating…
Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting…
Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking!
Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing,
The stove blew up, so; no cooking,
The intercom broke, so there was no communication…
Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in,
Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing,
Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching!
When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming…
Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting,
While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing,
Someone may also be texting or emailing…
Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing!
The Catheter bag slowly filling…
Back to the flat for emptying,
Usually when the delivery will be arriving!
Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying,
And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding!
Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating,
Then my grip on things starts deteriorating,
Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting,
Dementia & PN, I start chastising,
The computer requires defragging,
But how to, I’m not remembering,
Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling,
The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating…
My mind turns to food and eating,
The bread is wet from the bottles bursting,
Soaked with a shandy flavouring,
Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning,
Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting!
And you wonder why I don’t mind dying?
Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
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04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.

I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.

I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once.
The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?

I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so, had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.

So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.

I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.

Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.

I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).

Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.

I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.

I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.

Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.

New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,

An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed my rent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me.
At the bottom, I found this:
‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’!
I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!

I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!

I went to get the meal cooked. I had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?

Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!

MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW!
What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk!
Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no!
Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!

Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.

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Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
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Inchy: Masses of Mayhem Monday 9th December 2024

I am shattered! I’d been doing this blog on and off (a busy day) for about eight hours. And, considering all the nurse’s visits and telephone calls with disturbing and good news, I was pleased with how much I’d got done come 19:00hrs.
I LOST THE WHOLE LOT!
I’VE NOT THE FOGGIEST IDEA WHAT I DID TO LOSE IT!
So here I am starting again after saving later photos as older ones to save memory. I’m in the shit! I even lost the 32 lines of my Ode! I am pissed off with myself and not exactly full of interest in trying again. The Carer who read it thought it was great… which makes me feel worse! I am not in a good place. Damned seizures must be to blame, or instead, whatever I did that cost me a day’s work! There just isn’t enough time to do it all as well again as I did.

Fed up! HEARTBROKEN!
My eyesight is bad. I’m so tired and weary of having two sleepless nights. The right hearing aid has broken down.
No way! I have not had time to reproduce what I thought was a fantastic Ode. So, after a day of struggling with other things, this happens! So, after all my work, getting this blog fully detailed with plenty of whitty bits scattered in it will have to be a rush job. Sorry! I’ll do my best. Even if it means a third sleepless night!
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I went to see Doctor Downing,
Who said I was rough-looking,
Have you done nowt about yer coffin?
I said Well, no! (between my coughing),
She said, “Well, put yer hearing aids in!”
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I must have tried to sleep for nine hours last night. How can someone be so tired and worn out and ‘not’ sleep? I can; that was the second sleepless night. I tried on the hospital bed, then moved into the second-hand, c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. But with and Anne Gyna, there was no chance. I gave up hope and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch, then went to make a brew of 99 tea. And I enjoyed it, despite nearly dropping it when I took to the computer. The need for the Porcelain Throne arose.

I went back to the kitchen and took snaps of the morning view. It was raining still. I first took a poor-quality shot of what I mistakenly called Venus yesterday. Tim Price informed me it was Jupiter. Then a straight-ahead view of the lights from the streets of Sherwood.
Another poor effort.
I started the 32 lines of the Ode. (That I lost along with the rest of the blog eight hours later). Cragknangles, Thunderisations! Criggleblogsworthisms! Grobognangles! Frangleklops! Oy-yoy-yoy! Crigglebogsnot! Grobbleknangles! Grufflemoan! Skullgranglebonks! Granglespithowlations! & Grobbledamitt!

Carer Richard arrived. I’m sure I had many mini-bouts while Richard was here.
Fifteen minutes of hazyness.

I struggled to return and find where and what I was doing on the blog. I took a breather and tried to add to and remove some items on my Asda order for Wednesday. No, it’s Tuesday or tomorrow! That means I have to be up early, it’s coming at 0600 to 0700hrs. And here I am, two sleepless nights, and it is already gone, 2200hrs. I’m doing the blog I lost again. I am so frustrated! Anyway, I couldn’t sign in on the Asda site. I spent a fair time trying to get in without any luck. So, I changed the password for the third time. Care Chloe arrived with more distractions. She helped me write the new complicated password clearly, but it would not let me in. I decided to try again later. Same thing, no-go. So, I tried using Firefox and got in. By then, I’d forgotten what I wanted to add and remove the order. Is it worth me trying to carry one?

Eventually, despite reinvigorated attacks from Ann Gyna and Shocking Sherida, I got back into a system of sorts and was doing well on the blog. (The first one, of course)

Matron Jackie arrived, and we spoke about the medications and prescription getting difficulties. She told me the Doctor had just sent the prescription today to the chemist. So it should be ready for collection on Wednesday; I explained the procedure to Carer Richard, who is in control.

Then a lovely nurse turned up; Matron Jackie had asked her to visit me so she could… Ahem!
Check on my arms, man breasts and chest. Which was fine by me.
Also, the catheter strap scars, , , My mandarin-sized testicle, condition, and the welts and pressure spots on my flabby stomach. I think I masked my true feelings, okay. The nurse told me I was wearing the day pouch too low.
We spoke of the creams that I think are at the Chemist and are now awaiting collection from Carrington. I pointed out that the Caregiver (Richard) calls each Monday, sorts out which medications are needed, and lets the Doctor know. He called this morning, and there were no prescriptions for me there.
She thought the Carers applied the creams on me and helped me bathe. I said they do not, and I’ve never asked them to. The nice nurse will let Matron Jackie know about the ailments and medications when she gets back to base.

I got back to blogging. With all the breaks, it was enough to concentrate on the work (without losing it all! Cribblebogangonies! Glunglegnatsworth! Skullgranglebonks! Cracklepackers!

I was just about to investigate what I would have for my meal (This was 7 hours ago now, and I’ve still not got it, having to do the blog twice). Dungunblast! And the landline chirruped.
It was Matron Jackie ♥. She’s been busy helping me out. She confirmed that the cream and lotions will be ready for collection from the Carrington Pharmacy on Wednesday.
She had arranged for future prescriptions to be sent to a different chemist, Jaypoen, in Daybrook. She confirmed they would take me on their list. The best part is that they will deliver the prescriptions to the flats! I looked on Google Maps and got this picture of the shop. Obviously, I misheard Matron; it was Jayplex Chemist, not Jaypoen. It is much nearer than the Carrington shop on Mansfield Road in Woodthorpe.
But if I do have to go there, there is a darned steep hill to use to get me there. Hey-Ho! I don’t think I would manage it in my condition. Well, I know, I tried a few months ago.

THE CALAMITY OCCURED!
So, I started this second blog.
I am just too tired and will try to finish it in the morning.
I did take two snaps, though, when I was making the stew in the crock pot. The rain has stopped now, and it is getting dark so early. A little later, I spotted what I thought was Venus in the dark sky. I now know that it is Jupiter. Tim Price pointed out my . I’m very good at them, you know. Hang on, with the cock-up, I think I took the Jupiter shot in the morning. Yes, I must have cause this is the other snap I took tonight. I’ve got in such a mess; I already put the ~~Venus~~ Jupiter one on! Humph!
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,
My primary reaction to today
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TTFN.

Twitchy Inchy: Monday 28th October 2024

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Are your thoughts often erratic?
Are your underpants made of plastic?
Are, were you ever a Eurosceptic?
Potassium permanganate is an antiseptic!
Should you learn & speak Esperantic?
What makes you feel ecstatic?
Why do you take drugs to be sadomasochistic?
Do you ever get over-emotionalistic?
What Jamaican food is escoveitch?
What’d you do if you became rich?
Are your knees & cartilage rheumatic?
Do you know the word, ochlophobic?
Have you dreamed of being omnific?
Personally, I think that would be terrific!
I’d get my Glaucoma fixed at the clinic!
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Regretfully, the computer did not let me save many pictures today. I have not recorded my thoughts here to avoid being prosecuted for blogging them, as they were unacceptable for publication.
Cragnangles!

I stirred back into semi-life in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I’d not made it into the bed, the carer came later than usual, and I was too tired to bother with climbing into bed with all the risk involved; the catheter possibly leaking and my getting the clothes off. So I stayed in the chair. But could I get to sleep? Well, yes, actually, and I did dozens of times. But I was waking up with a jump, sometimes accompanied by an shock up my right leg. I was waking up so often so often. I gave up on the silly thought and expectation of getting any sleep and got up around 04:00hrs. The first thing I noticed as the brain fog cleared was the scary colour of the urine in the catheter bag as I removed it from the day pouch. I took a cracking snap of it, and it came out the exact same colour & hue as my eyes saw it. That might get me some sympathy, I thought. But, no!
Much later, after the usual morning farces had been completed, the computer was not letting me save many pictures of graphics. It arbitrarily allowed a few to be saved, but the others it refused and removed the ones of the same name I was attempting to save them as! I had neither the willpower nor the urge to make them all again, for fear that it may be the same next time I tried. It was soul-destroying!

I got on the computer and had to go through the memory-saving farce repeatedly. And with having to sign back in on every site, I lost endless time, many hours spent finding the passwords to do so. My memory lets me down every single day. Blasted Dementia Doreen, & the computer are to blame, not me. Huh!

Carer Richard arrived. He gives me advice, but my ability to do what is told is limited. The lad brought up my laundry bag, which he spotted on his way up. Bless him. The slipper I’d filled with wee-wee yesterday was returned, a child’s camouflaged face mask, an odd brown sock (not mine), and a broken, damp Smarties tube in the bag. One of the dressing gown waist belts was knotted in three places, and all the sleeves were inside out. But things like this are 🎵’Not unusual’🎵, as Tom Jones sang. Hehe!

After Richard had left, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I hastened to the wet room. I sat down in time today, avoiding a third day of embarrassment by not making it in time! Trotsky Terence ruled again, as I knew he would by the rumbling and almost squelching from the innards.
But this time, soft chunks of… a browny-green colour! Ooher! What next?

SUPRISE FRACAS ONE
I was getting increasingly frustrated with the computer and went to the kitchen to do the safety checks. During last night’s cooking, I discovered that I’d left the slow cooker turned on for about 18 hours without realising because there was nothing in it. Well, there are now cracks in the pottery bowl! At least one bit of luck helped ease things. Yes! The fire alarm did not go off again as I ran water on the bowl in the sink, and steam filled the kitchen. No new burns, either!

I cleaned the mess up and went back to the computer. I went through the cleaning routine. After the rigmarole was completed for the third time today, it let me save photos of it its own choice but not others. I’m fed up! Here they are. I snapped these first thing this morning. But didn’t do such an excellent job of them as I’d hoped to this time. Then again, I’m not surprised, I suppose, not to be honest.
I was a smidge dispirited.

The photo I’d taken of the returned slipper was saved and used. Oh, I’d better check that they haven’t fallen off the towel trickle heater. They’ve
all dried now, last night’s pee’d on tartan-coloured slipper I put in the laundry bag.
I can’t believe all the messes I get into nowadays.

SUPRISE FRACASES

Over seven days, I’ve had three tumbles, walked into the same doorframe three times and spent an estimated 32 extra hours on the computer trying & failing to sort out the memory. I also had two embarrassing accidents not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time. Oh, no, it was three. Thanks to Terence Trotsky! I’ve burnt two meals and saucepans, making messes to clean up. I left the slow cooker on for god knows how long, setting the fire alarm off. I left the hot water tap to run cold three times; luckily, the plug was not in the sink each time, so there were no floods.

As my cyber buddy Tim suggested, I’ve bought a stand-alone hard drive, but by some miracle, no one in the flats can or is willing to help me set it up for me. It could be the answer… maybe to the problem. But with my eyesight and memory, I dare not try to do it alone. I fear I could well make things worse and kill the computer.

A little after 16:00hrs, I typed away on this blog, and two screens appeared.
Not the foggiest what they were about.
I’m getting to the point of no return, I think.

Carer Kelvin called. Pointed out my nose was bleeding.
Medicated, he listened to my woes of the day. That was nice of him. He emptied the catheter-content jug for me and checked the kitchen stove and taps.

I finished here and got the bacon cooking for tonight’s meal. First, I’ll cut off the ginormous fat on it, then put it in the oven. I must remember it’s in there. I’ll use the buzzer timer, which might wake me if I fall asleep. Hehe!
I will be back in the morning to update you. Lamb burgers again, and I cooked them a lot longer today; they tasted lovely. I’ve got a food order coming in the morning.

My robotically-minded computer prevented the meal’s two photos from being saved. Humph! I’ll try to get up early to attend to the complete ablution work.

Fare Thee All Well!

Freaky Inchy: Sunday 20th October 2024

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My Eyes Are Getting Worse – Endless Mistakes!
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Written (started) at 16:15hrs: A terrible night’s sleep again. The computer, bank, medical needs, the camera, TV & remote, a tumble later this morning, Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Memory-Mashing-May, Glaucoma Gladys, Catheter Cathy’s Pain-giving Contraption, Loss-Balance-Belinda, Back-Pain-Brenda, Mini-Seizures, Earache Erasmus, and Toothache Tiffany are just too much to cope with. That’s not counting the computer problems with Word, Excel, CorelDraw & Trotsky Terence. As I was typing this, the browser started doing I don’t know what, but it took a good half-an-hour before I could use it again, then I had to turn everything off and back on again. which I’d done twice earlier, already having to use Ccleaner twice to get some photos to go… I’m fed up!
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I woke for the umpteenth time, and I saw it was 06:00hrs. Just as the innards warbled at me, and that automatic butt-clenching you do when you know if you don’t get to the WC on time, you’re going to mess yourself! I had no doubt this was the case. I fumbled out of the bed, stubbing my toe, grabbed Four-Pronged Willy, the walking stick, and limped hastily to the wet room.
EMBARRASSMENT – FRUSTRATION -SHAME!
What followed was painful, embarrassing and not a pretty sight! I don’t need to tell you what happened, I’m sure.
I spent minutes nonstop swearing as I sat on the Porcelain Throne, clearing out what little of the evacuated produce was left inside me. Most of it was already down my legs and on the floor! Things actually got worse later!
My anger and shame stopped me from crying!
A mammoth cleaning-up job was started. Me first, then the terribly sulk-making splashes on the furniture and floor were tackled. Using a mop and bucket while using a walking stick is not easy. I did, I thought, have the sense to take my time sorting it out. All clean again, I put the used kitchen towels (two big rolls) into a bag and put them in the large sharps box for disposal in the medical box. Back to the wetroom, and decided to get the ablutions done.

I did my tegggies—well, the few I’ve got left—and as I overreached to get the shaving tackle, I slipped on some disinfectant I’d put on the floor. I grabbed the trolley to keep from going down, brushing my head against the tackle on the top. I actually thought about going into a Smug Mode. I was so proud of myself for not ending up on the floor. I carried on with the shaving. Until I saw the blood coming down my face, I was sure I’d not cut myself with the razors? Down the side of the face, earhole, mouth, chin, and chest. Oh, dearie me!
The blood was coming from the top of my head, and then I realised it must have happened during the tumble.
I got the brute, liberally soaked some kitchen towels with it, and folded them on my head. That’ll stop it, I thought.
It just took a couple of minutes to finish the shaving, and the blood was down on my face and neck again. Well, I thought, this is unusual. The Brut always stops the flow of the shaving cuts. But not this time. I got some plasters and wadding I’d soaked with the Brut. Then I stuck it tightly on where I thought the wound was with the plasters.
Then I did medicationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating pain was on a par with my getting the Protection Pants on. The head was not too painful at all. Finally, the wet room was cleaned and sorted!

Got a fresh dressing gown and went into the front room to see how or if the computer would act. My vision was blurred by the blood flowing down again. I realised, by the location of the blood on my hands and the removed dressing, that I’d missed some of the actual wound putting it on. I didn’t realise it was over such a large area. I’ve never had a wound so Bruted before, Hahaha! I could not feel any blood coming through this time. I thought that I’d cracked the problem. I put a woolly bobcap on to keep the pressure on the cut, graze or whatever it was.

Carer P arrived. And when I told P of my farcicalnesses with the ablutioning (not the pooing myself), he looked at it and said it felt dry, and we could take off the dressing now. He asked me first if I’d like him to Peel it off or to Whip it off. I asked for a Whip it off, please!

It bled again, but far less than earlier. Pleasant put another dressing on it for me. Bless him. He rang his controller to ask if the next caller could be made aware and check it for me when they arrived. Nice of him, that!

Then memory problems… me and the computer.
I won’t bore you again with all the details, but I used Norton and Ccleaner thrice to upload some graphics and photos to WordPress. It took me hours, and then I had to upload the files straight away before I ran out of memory again.
Harrumph!

Carer Kimberly came next. She had not been informed about my Accifauxpa by anyone. Fancy that! She kindly checked it for me. It was still bleeding, but barely at all now.
Kimberly put a new dressing in. I think I can take it off tonight. She took a photo of the head before it started bleeding again and put a plaster on it. I’ve been looked after today. I didn’t mention the poo-poo. Whoopsie.
Then I got some more snaps that it wouldn’t let me earlier in the day.
This is the early one I took before my Accifauxpas during the rain.
This was when I refilled the nibble box on the Nurse’s and Carers’ table.
Some new ones in there that they just might like. I hope the nurses will if they come.
A slightly later shot of the local houses, most of which I noticed today, was leaving via Mansfield Road in their cars. Can’t blame them after four people were shot from a vehicle on Winchester Street. Which is about 300 yards from the houses and the flats I live in. The one on the left is a mystery one. No idea why I took it at all.
This is a later shot of the houses I took with the old Kodak camera. I also used it to take the saucepan above left. You can tell by the different-sized pictures.
Cat Shot of the Week!
Sasha is from New Mexico. Tim Price has a family of cats, and they are all beautiful and characterful. Tim says I can use some photos and hopes to put a cat/s of the week photo on this blog weekly. Sasha has always seemed like a thinking cat; her expression is that of a thinker. I love all of them from a distance. Especially the cheese queue photos.

Carer Alu came and looked at the head. It’s getting better already. I am going to make a meal of sorts for myself: baked crispy (I hope) potatoes, tomatoes with basil, yellow peppers, and sea salt, vegetarian sausages, and some Milk Roll bread to soak up the juices. Slurp!

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I hope to be back in the morning.
I took this just before the total darkness fell. I wonder if these are part of the Northern Light colours? I must search Google later.
I got the meal as planned, made it, and served it.
It was terrible-tasting.
I suspect I may have used the wrong seasonings in the tomatoes and sauce. I couldn’t taste any basil at all, but there was another tang to it that I couldn’t recognise and wasn’t too keen on. Tsk! Whatever it was, it ensured one of the messiest-ever dumps in the morning. And a multi-coloured evacuation, from black to beige in varying colours. With mighty super-sticky splashes to clean up, too!
I washed the dishes and took another shot from the kitchen window, this time of a different but gorgeous view. Seconds later, the whole sky went dark.

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TTFNski, Each. Keep Safe, Please!

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Inchcock Inchy: Saturday 19th October 2024

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I stirred after one more night of constantly jumping awake. I forced myself into imitation action. Pondering all the time if CorelDraw would open and work, I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch.
I pottered around for a while, a smidge nervous about what CorelDraw would do to me. After another, even messier Trotsky Terence Porcelain Throne visit and a wash, I bravely turned on the computer, with a slightly nervous bilious feeling coming on. Here we go!
I booted her up, and after the usual blue screen of death came up, I applied the escape routine, and windows started. It looked okay; it took a while.
Then, the high risk of suicide loomed as I clicked on the CorelDraw launcher tab… It opened terribly slowly, which didn’t give me any confidence.
The document colour tags appeared, but they were in minimal mode; I didn’t want to upset anything at this stage until I tried to find out what the updates had changed, other than the minuscule colour swatches.
I tested the artistic text background fault; that was still there. Then I tested the outline and the change font default faults; they were still there. Maybe the upgrade had solved the saving problems. Nope, they are still here! I was disappointed and pleased at the same time! At least things didn’t look any worse than before the so-called upgrade. Before I updated yesterday’s blog, I decided that I’d get the graphic tops done for this blog.
This seemed to go alright. Then, I updated the Friday blog and got it posted.
At this stage, Carer Christopher arrived. It was like talking to a robot. Hehehe! It would have been easier to talk to myself, which I do all the time anyway. Don’t we all? He issued the medications, and then he put the diabetic socks on my legs. Then he helped me into the slippers, mobile in hand, and he departed. Hehehe! He’s not a bad lad, is Chris?

ARGHH! I had to put on the graphics, but the usual size was not going on and not saving. It would be saved if I reduced the bitmap to a tiny size. But the resolution was crap when resized. As in the green Sherwood shootings graphic above. Humph!
Others will undoubtedly be useless even if the computer lets me save them. So, today, there are fewer photos than ever. Anger-making! It was very messy. I got the graphic tops and the pouch shots on, but all the others were being rejected. Out of desperation, I used the expensive Norton ‘Utilities Ultimate’. I kept getting warning notices, which only confused me. The operation took about a minute to perform. Now, I need to try making and saving a graphic again on CorelDraw. I’ll make a find-the-differences graphic to use tomorrow. No, no good, it’s not having it! Glungleackers!
Ah, well, I’ll try the cCleaner again; what a farce!
I’ve got to save and close everything to use this; I hope to be back with you by Monday or Tuesday… Humph!
Ran the cCleaner, had to sign into everything again, and tried again to save the two graphics.
Nope! So I closed everything and rebooted the computer.
Tried again to save the graphics to the WordPress gallery,
That got it! But can I afford to spend two hours each time I need to save a graphic or photo? No!

Carer Joanne arrived and gave me some painkillers to get me through. She could tell I was suffering with the Catheter Contraption. The odd Argh! and Ooh! may have given the game away, along with the irresistible urge to clutch my testicles to rearrange the layout into a less painful arrangement. Har-har!

I then uploaded the cloud photos that I had taken earlier to WordPress. I thought I’d never get them on!

Sun coming from the left.
Sun glistening on the balcony. You wouldn’t believe it was black plastic of some sort.
Higher the beautiful clouds.
Lovely view.
But the sun was not very warm.

I’m waiting for the evening Carer; then I can get the lamb and vegetable pie cooking in the oven and make some instant mash with Leicester cheese and red onion in it, to which I’ll add a can of out-of-date garden peas.
That’s the plan.
As I was serving up the meal, the Carer arrived. Took the edge off of the meal, but I still enjoyed it. No photo was taken, and I could not have gotten it on if I had.

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TTFNski, Mon Amis!

Flaky Acne Inchy: Friday 18th October 2024

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Just half a mile away from the flats. A lot has been happening around here lately. Two pensioners mugged at the bus stop in Sherwood. Three drug raids with sight from the kitchen window. The 13-year-old in Carrington with weapons. Carrington Co-op staff attacked by shoplifters. Care Home closed down after patients died overnight, and no one noticed until the morning wake-up call. Humph! No, sorry, that was in Nottinghamshire!
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Yet another nodding off and waking up again every few minutes of the night.
Then, taking off the nocturnal catheter pouch, I felt pain from Little Inchy. I must remember some things; I wrote down some reminders and left them in the Carer’s folder. Some carers do all these jobs, but other non-regular ones mean I have to remember to ask them, and I forget too so often.: ① I must ask the Caregiver to replace the day catheter bag, and ② put the pouch sleeve back on. ③ I must get the full ablutions done early! (I’m sorry if I disturb any neighbours with the noise, but my lower regions will need medical attention to investigate why this morning’s terrible pains came on. Things are much easier to get at in the shower and easier to clean in the event of any bleeding.) ④ Remember to ask for the vitamin tablet. ⑤ Ask the Carer to take the laundry down for me. ⑥ And to put my diabetic socks back on for me. The last item on the memo was aimed at me only; ⑦ It is guaranteed that the computer will stop me from getting graphics and photos onto WordPress or any file (Sadly!). I must not get all het-up when this happens; I’ve been getting myself in a bit of a state with the frustration & depression it causes. Now, even if only protem, I have written down the actions needed to try and correct it, and it usually works, but it takes me over the day, hours!
Maybe I wanted to mention this as a cry for help. We’ll see if I can stay calmer today when it happens. Or I should say, each time it happens. Sad, innit?

On my way to the wet room, I went into the kitchen to check that the faucet doors and cooker had been left safely.
Just look at the foggy view I photographed from the kitchenette window! I noticed the kitchen clock—it was only 04:00 hrs! A smidge of guilt arose within me for having a shower so early in the day.

I got the bath towel from the airer, turned it off, ensured there was enough medical stuff to use, and started the proceedings.
First, the Porcelain Throne. What a gooey, sticky mess. I think I used a full roll of toilet paper and tissues to clean myself up after the evacuation. The Dettol disinfectant was almost used up.
Then the teeth, and then I started shaving. I couldn’t understand why I had so many cuts and nicks. They were no bother whilst I was shaving. The back of the head, almost on the neck, suffered the most; there were too many to count, but none of them were any real bother. Another mystery is that being bald, I’ve never had to shave the neck for donkey years. Then, at the end of last year, the hairs started to grow there again. Last week, Carer Christopher said they were white. Haha!
Now, the pleasant bit, getting under the shower.
I had a leisurely but good session. I used the long brush to try and remove as much of the eczema as possible on the ankles, and I hosed the skin down the drain hole.
I sat in the shower chair to investigate the cause of Little Inchy’s pain. I was baffled! There were only a few specks of blood from the Fungal Lesion, far less than usual in the morning, yet while I was in the shower, no pain at all? I found out later that it came on mostly when I was seated throughout the day. I didn’t want to stop the showering; I enjoyed it so much. Little Inchy was not enjoying it. Because my taking off the bag cover pouch to have the shower meant, as I exited, the bag was swinging and pulling on Little Inchy. But I think I’d done well all the same in this session… Then, after drying myself off with the bath towel under the wall heater, I needed to get the medicationings done… Oh, dearie me! I did something I’ve never done ever since the cancer and lesion were treated. For years, I’ve left medicating the most painful, the lesion, until last – today, I started with that task. A few Oohs and the drop Arghs were expounded, with the odd Ouch thrown in. Perfectly normal!
Then, I went to get the Ketoconazole ointment. But they had sent a different one this time, Betamethasone cream. Carer Chloe told me earlier when it was delivered that the contents were exactly the same as the usual Clotrimazole ointment. I got the thin application sticks, ensured Little Inchy was 100% dry, and popped some on the end. I started to rub it in with the usual preparedness for pain. Why have I not been given this one before? I’m not saying it didn’t hurt, but it was far less painful than the regular one! I was pleasantly pleased!
Then, the hard-to-get-at job; well, not on the face, but the ankles. The cream. I put cream on a tissue or muslin strip and use the picker-upperer to get it on the ankles. No problem. The eczema on the arns was easy to reach. Then, the red rash was ointmentated. The ears were olive-oiled. Then, the not-cheap Blepha eye treatments were done. Thank heavens that the NHS has not stopped funding the cost of the Phorpain Gel for the knees, Arthur Itis, and Duloxetine Cartilages Carole & Chloe, and for Colin Cramps.

Finally, the ablutions were completed. It was a long, long session. After belatedly changing the date and day, I took this picture of the antiquated 1970s clock.

Jiminnee Cricket, the fog was even thicker now. Took this snap. I got the kettle on to brew tasty Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Carer Chris arrived while I was on the computer and coming out of a . The lad didn’t need asking; he got the diabetic socks on, the med pouch, and the Vit B12 tablets. I thought, by gum, he’s on form this morning. Then I remembered I’d left the note on his table. Hehehe!

I started blogging stuttering, and it only got stutterer as time passed. The cCleaner routine had to be activated and completed before I could get the third graphic on this post. It was not as successful as yesterday’s, and within an hour or so, the failure to save things started again!
I was about to begin it, and Carer Joanne arrived. She’d been to the hospital again and was not pleased with the lack of interest shown in her catheter problems and pain. I felt terrible for her. She would not have said anything unless I had asked how she was doing in that department. She’s the salt of the earth kind of lady, so I like her. I resisted telling her about the pain I was in with mine. I thought there was no need to make things damper.
Bless her cotton socks.

She departed, and I again went through the albeit unguaranteed-to-work computer memory recovery program. I happened to note the time when I started this: 13:40 hrs. I got it done—I thought—at 15:35 hrs! But it lasted for only three photos to get on. I’m using some of those in the gallery, where they were suitable. I took a lot of photos as well.

I am now starting the third procedure but with little faith. At least, up to now, I’ve not sunk into silly thoughts with the depression. I’ll be back in a couple of hours, I imagine. And try to load the photos again. I can feel some emotion brewing, so I anticipate losing it. Back later.

Good Heavens, it worked! I hastily uploaded the photos to the gallery, but I fear I may have put them in the wrong order, so they may be from different times. Sorry.

The Iceland delivery arrived.
The driver kindly took the carrier bags to the kitchen for me. Thanks.
At long last, there is food in the fridge. I felt guilty when Carer Chloe found all the food out of date the other day. Was it yesterday? Who knows, not me. Hehehe!
The three bags of frozen food to the right in the photo on the left cost me just a pound! They were battered fishcakes, battered fish, and battered potatoes. Lovely!
The fridge looked a little fuller now, and while putting things away, I decided to have lamburgers in wholemeal bread rolls, maybe with some tomatoes and potatoes, as well. Or Marmite rice cakes—I might like that.
Slurp & Yummy!

I’ll get some time in on the WP Reader and then sort out the meal. I’m getting tired now, but I’ve kept calmer and more accepting of the situations.

I managed to get these snaps in here in the morning. Just before CorelDraw crashed again! Fed up? YES!
Kitchen window before the rain poured down.

I thought I’d remember from which of the different views I’d taken these from, but CorelDraw kept refusing to allow me to save the odd one and I go confused as to which was which.
I think this one on the left was taken higher in the sky.
Such beautiful clouds before the storm didn’t look like they were holding rain to drop on us. Hehe!
I’m sure this on on the right was take to my right, towards the North. Blue patches of sky coming through. You ca see part of the outer of the balcony in this shot. I got back onto the computer.

CORELDRAW SCARE!
I saved the CorelDraw Graphics and pressed to turn off the programme. The screen darkened, and a message came up;
Crucial CorelDraw Update – click to install.
So, I clicked “Turn off CorelDraw until the installation guide appears.” But the CorelDraw screen was shaded and unreachable!
The update started. Finished, and no Installation Guide.
I clicked the open CorelDraw 2024 button…
Nothing happened.
So, I closed things down and pressed the restart computer option. The computer loaded. I clicked the CoralDraw button, and it started to load, but it crashed!
I tried again. It started to load, but it crashed!
In desperation, I turned off the computer. Gave it a few minutes before starting from scratch again.
I clicked the CoralDraw button, and it started to load. Then, a form to fill in and return appeared, telling me that CorelDraw had closed unexpectedly and asking me to fill it in and send an email to the… well, I assume there are some real people at CorelDraw or IT clones. Still, I’ve filled this block in dozens of times and never got a reply.
I don’t suppose I will this time either.
However, CorelDraw carried on loading this time before it crashed again.
After the trying day, I was in low spirits, so I just turned everything off and had the lamburgers.
We’ll see what happens with CorelDraw in the morning.

One feeling downtrodden, a failure, and with poor Little Inchies fungal lesion being caused pain via the Catheter Contraption stuck in him; My thoughts were not exactly of contentment, more resentment. I caught an accidental look in the wet room mirror as I washed, and Gawd, did I look pale or what! Tsk!
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Not one of my betterer days.

TTFNski!