Imaginal Inchy: Sun 31 Mar 24 Ablutional Nightmare this morning

1st April 2024 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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Neil Kinnock saidz? Was that an error from the news sight, or did I make it? No, not me, not never. Me? Make a mistake, cock something up… surely not. A man of my edukation and calibre? –
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A confoundingly confusing day, with crises galore!
A spirit-crippling day.
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05:00hrs: What a hue to the morning view.

And flowed, and splattered…

Shaving while standing in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to clean the feet, I could not reach, resulted in a cut-free session! I can’t say the same for teeth cleaning, cracked lips or nose. Oh, and of course, as per usual, , & were leaking the haemoglobin freely.

By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work.
Galore! ensued
The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet to life.
Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?

I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult.
She had stiffened up something awful with all the bending and movement she’d been forced into. Just getting the leg in the pants required the use of the picker-upperer, and some cunning tactics had to be employed with this task. I got my bum up against the sink and lowered the pants with the picker-upperer, I needed both hands, so I was taking a bit of a risk if the bum slipped, I was going to go down. The right hand helps lift the leg up high enough, and the left-hand uses the picker-upperer to guide the opening to the foot. On the fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants. , was not in such a bad mood. Hehehe! At last, I got the PPs on and slippers on. Only to find out that they had gotten wet and bloodied during the Wet Room Rumble! Aching, hurting, wet, and somewhat peeved off, I checked the taps (faucet) were turned off… and needed another sitting on the . What a change!
I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette.
A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue.
The Wet Room Farce cost me over 2½ hours, not to mention the pain, blood, and temper not doing my health very good! I didn’t recover properly from the episode. strangely, the tube inserted into poor , calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!

Sorted the bags out. A new carer arrived.

Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.

Another new Carer arrived.

A long one!
During this, two caregivers called, and I have no memory of them at all! I saw they had signed in the log. Work, albeit messy and error-prone, had been done on the blog. Also, on CorelDraw?

I took these Kodak Tim shots of the wonderful clouds in the slowly darkening sky.

The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb.

The catheter day pouch colour was the lightest it’s ever been! But, an hour later when I was getting into the bed… yes the bed, not 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. But the Social people donated an ex-used hospital bed! Initially, kicked off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it.
rang out, and in came Carer Richard.
This, as it so often does, left me a smidge—what’s the word? Confused will do. After Richard left, and I was climbing back into the ex-NHS bed, I was in panic mode! Did I turn the taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles!
The hot water had been left running and ran cold!

I’m hoping for a better day tomorrow!

Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!,
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TTFN

Inadvisability Inchy: Fri 29 Mar 2024

30th March 202430th March 2024 / Inchie / 4 Comments

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I made a deliberate mistake in this Ode; Ahem!
I wrote Further, instead of another word. Would
anyone like to guess what it should have been?
Deliberate mistake… I am a fibber!
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Much more out-of-it than with-it today.
Moments for sheer frustration, littered with strange, weird, eerie, unaccountable moments of ‘Soditisms’.
During these spasms, I was so high that nothing seemed to bother me in the least. But, they were short and rare and were usually followed by a Depression full of self-loathing, then a realisation that I am to blame for my past guilt. Then, the circle would start again.
I think I’ve mentioned these to the Doctor, but I’m not sure. Maybe not; I’ve not seen her for many months.
On the bright side, the throughout the day, added up to only four!
I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again and burnt the food in the oven. The eyes are terrible nowadays. Any distance and things seem to have another image above themselves. Like a shadow, but clear. I’m looking now through the balcony window, and all the houses look like they have two roofs.
The catheter is a lot less painful than yesterday, mind you. My coughing has also calmed down compared to last night. I’ve walked into nothing. Fair do’s, I’ve dropped the cutlery, saucepan, washing up bottle, picker-upperer, tablets and my pen (four times).
So, all in all, a typical day.
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Night pouch.

Medicationings.

My ankles look fine.

The first emptying of the day bag.

Opening the balcony windows.

Over the next five hours, the views remained similar.
I kept nipping out to take a view or two.
Between making a mess of this blog.
Gorgeous!
Wonderful.
Magnificent.
Wunderbar!

I was busying away and getting a little done.
Caregiver calls only confused me. After they left, I found it nearly impossible at times to get back to what I was working on, often veering off to the wrong project and getting deeper into a mind-muddle. Memory-Blanks were rampant. For some reason, I did not keep up with the memory notes on the pad. Now, so long later (Saturday A.M. started on this section), the photos help prompt me a little. Not many of them, either. Any slight disturbance, change whatever, and I was lost again. Sorry about this

Fifth Catheter Bag Emptying (I think).

Gave up computing. I was in a long-lasting period of haziness. But can recall Carer Christopher arriving.
Cheeky-Faced Chris. Hehe!
While talking, I remembered I’d left the sausages cooking in the oven… yet again!
I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen.
Got the mini sausages, which were not burnt too much, into the pan of BBQ beans and tomato sauce with chunky vegetables and stirred while rewarding them,
I ate up most of them with two brown baguettes.

I took this night view and got settled into 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, in search of Sweet Morpheus. But the mind would not let me rest enough to capture the bliss of sleep. Immediately started an attack of lambasting, self-hating, repeating so many things, wrong choices I’d made over the tears. Even an occasion that took place when I was just an ankle-biter, which I was not proud about doing… it was horrible being forced to listen to myself, listing and bringing back to mind the shame and self-disgust from the time all those so many years ago.
As I tossed and twisted, I felt the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie. I
realised then that I had not attached the Nocturnal Pouch yet. So, I did!

By the time I’d fumbled about to get the bags linked, my & both went off simultaneously. Miraculously, bearing in mind the viciousness of the leg dance, I didn’t go over or tumble. I’ve not had a fall all week. . I may regret saying this later, Haha!

TTFNski each!

Interfationing Inchy: Wed 27th Mar 24

28th March 2024 / Inchie / 5 Comments

4:00hrs: I woke feeling oddly a little sprightly (for me). As I tried to rise from the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, uncomfortable, incommodious, unwelcoming and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. As I did so, gave way on me. The bum bounced down into the recliner, and I got an instant comment from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as they burst, bled and stung. Bad enough, you may think? This is where comedy came into the morning’s equation! I’d fallen on the TV remote, and there I was in the middle of cursing and verging on self-pity as the TV came on. That momentarily confused me, realised what had happened and got some kitchen roll in the Protection Pants, as I now had , in front, along with bleeding at the back! I lost the first hour of the day cleaning up and medicating. I Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off.

Then a dawned. As I was metamorphosed into an old, miserable, grouchy, depressed, frustrated, bleeding, in pain, downhearted, depressed, melancholy, forlorn, glum, demoralised, fed up, down in the dumps, in the doldrums, unnerved, chagrined, miffed, sour, sulky, sullen, surly, saddened, subdued, almost sepulchral Inchy.
But within minutes, a stroke of good luck eased my misery by taking my mind off of it. As I was leaving the wet room, I clouted my head, this time on the door frame! 99% of the time, it will be the right shoulder. Blame can be attached to: , , , or any of the ailments really. On this occasion, the culprits were, I think, and or . The eyes are worse than ever now, and I’m sure I’ll have kicked the bucket before my turn comes for the operation. But, sorting youngsters out early is more vital. They have the prospect of living many years with their sight adjusted. We long in the tooth old things, must accept this.

This morning, the sky was a glorious blue hue again. My confusion was worse than usual for the next hour or two. I got out of the wet room, put some Dettol Cream on my head, and got on with the waste bag sorting. A wet, warm sensation from the lower regions. I went back to the wet room to investigate.
There was a smidgen more bleeding from Little Inchy, but it’s not worth mentioning compared to the tsunami that was released yesterday.
Throughout the day, the bleeding was far, even less than it is usually. Had a wash & shave.
Then checked the state of the ankles. No doubt that my was getting better bit by bit.

The areas where the are coming from remain a little rough and red. No pain when the shocks don’t come, and when they do hit, it wakes you if you’re sleeping every time! But the pain lasts for about two seconds, if that. is to blame.
Getting lighter now, I took another Kodak Tim picture from the kitchen window again. The streetlights were off now.
As per usual, the end car parking turnaround area had its regular little bit of a mudslide in it again.

Carer Shaquille arrived. I made an order the J Sainsbury’s for next week. Blogging.
Amending, blogging, correcting, blogging-getting more things wrong, blogging… well, you get the message. Tsk!
Carer Kara arrived. She sorted out the banking problem and said she would try to get in touch with Norton about the three times the bill was taken from the debits another time. She ran out of time today. Care Victor, did the last two calls.
I took these photos later.
Then went into what I believe was a non-apolectic seizure. Not a mind-block. Because it was like blinking, and an hour had gone, but nothing was done whatsoever when I came around back to this miserable existence.
After the , I’d discover I’d been doing the blog, mopping the kitchen floor, or started cooking something while out of it. A procedure Hehe! Nothing gets done as if I’d fallen asleep, but I know it wasn’t that. I think. might play a part in this ailment.
At times, I come back to the reality of stinging pains in the lower regions from the catheter bag being too full, and I have to get it emptied swiftly, ASAP.
The sunset was about over by the time I regained a modicum of brain control, rejoined the menagerie of life on offer, and got back to the reality and struggle of living.

I DIDN’T

I gave up on the blogging.

Made myself a meal.
It tasted delicious, too! I could feel my burnt finger on the oven rack and the pain of dropping the hot oven tray onto my foot. Landing on my .
But the meal was worth the hassle.

Wrote by Inchie c1953

Search for the meaning of truth,
Look until you’re long in the tooth,
You may find it, Gawd’s strewth,
Facts will have to be dealth…
With those who demand wealth,
Humans want for themselves,
Oligarchs will believe in elves!

See you later, take care of yourselves!

Inchy with Little Inchie Bleeding: Tue 26 Mar 24

27th March 2024 / Inchie / 21 Comments

Today, felt like it had lasted for three days or more!
Yet I was so swamped, which usually makes the time pass quicker? The worrying early morning , the Asda delivery farce, Little Inchy, and the catheter tube painfully in disagreement all day long, and so many episodes meant this was not anywhere near a good day for Inchy! I’m sure I had one while Carer Kara was with me today. Because I was not getting what she was saying about the text, I was left more befuddled than before I asked for help.
My blogging exploits are taking so much longer, with a first-time success rate of infinitesimally low.
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Very early morning view.

Porcelain Throne evacuation failure. Not only no release but no answers to the crossword. Tsk!

I gave up, but within a minute of leaving the wet room, I hobbled hastily back, just in time. The delayed motion shot out as my bum hit the seat!

I got on with the blog catch-up. At about 06:00hrs, I thought I’d make myself a mug of tea.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP
As I pottered about from the sink to the kettle back to the counter, I got the kettle on, went to the cupboard for the tea bag, took that and the mug to the kettle counter, and went to the fridge for the milk… I really thought my bad eyesight was fooling me at first when I dropped the spoon and looked down for it; there were trials of dripped blood all over the kitchen, some trodden on and smeared by my slippers. A closer inspection of the Little area revealed that blood was pouring out from near the catheter tube inserted, as it has been for over a year now in . I used many kitchen towel sheets over the next hour; yes, it took that long. It was steadily bleeding, started heavily, slowly getting less, until it seemed to stop of its own accord. All I did was go into a semi-panic and wipe it off with paper towels. I took a photo of the last few towels used. The first few were more red than white, so you can see how much it lessened to a trickle, running down the inside of my leg, onto the now, for some reason, between my leg and the swollen right testicle. No, the left one.
I had considered pressing the alarm wristlet. But when I saw the blood getting less and less, I didn’t bother. I’ll ask the Carer to ring the community nurse’s place for me when she or he arrives.
I cleaned up the kitchen and my body parts as best I could. Next, I was going to get a fresh pair of PPs Protection Pants) on. But what had happened in the kitchen that may have caused the problem dawned on me. I was taking the emptied catheter pouch with me as I went in and dropped it; I bent down to retrieve it rather sharpishly. That may have cracked the dried blood and allowed a follow-through? Hehe!

The Asda Delivery Arrived
The delivery driver saw my predicament and took the food to the kitchen. Some were put on the floor near the sink…
Some on the kettle shelf…
The PPs on the cooker.
Bags on the floor.
Daffodils for the Carers on the draining board.
These are from a carrier I placed for photographing. I got things sorted and put away, but I could only see one of the two ordered packs of PPs and no kitchen towel. I kept looking around, searching. The email said they had been sent. An hour and four look-arounds later, I found them. They were in the hallway near the door, on the floor behind Wally. I took one of these out, asking the Carer to help me get into them later. I wanted to avoid bending.

I took this snap of the later morning view. Carer Marie arrived, medicated me, and helped me with the PPs and diabetic socks. Bless her!

Hours were spent on this blog preparation, but it was slow going again. Grammarly, Accifauxpa-ridden.

Cara Kara arrived
She called the District Nurses for me, and they will call today or tomorrow. She checked the catheter bags for me. Medications were given. She looked at the texts and emails. No action is needed. She will ring someone about something later in the week, but I can’t recall who or what it was about now.

Blogging.

The Landline Rang
District nurse. I told her the bleeding had almost stopped and the pain, although still hurting, was far less than yesterday. They will not be calling on me now. If pain or bleeding gets worse, I’ve to phone them.

Started to make an early meal
The usual tiredness and weariness fell on me extra early this Tuesday.

One of my betterer, more tasty efforts this one was.
Lipsmackingly tasty!.
A drop of Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle decorated the top of the folder. I do like this sauce!

Getting down in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus, initially failed. I tried the trick of putting the TV on to watch my favourite TV programme, ‘Heartbeat’. And it worked, and I went into bliss… Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, reluctantly, he said, with a big grin on his face. Hehe!
Medication issues, nibbles and drinkies given, socks taken off. And off trotted Chris. Nice lad!

I had to get up to empty the .
I took this view of the early evening sky as I did.
Amazing cloud formation!

I made the last call of the day. I was so out of it with the blessed, deep, comforting sleep. I can see now why the lad removed the diabetic socks earlier: to let me sleep on without getting up. Good on him! He sprayed the eye spray on me, making sure I had to close my eyes first. Drinkie, nibble, and off.

I was soon back in the land of nod. I’m not sure I entirely left it anyway. Hehe! My next conscious moment, deep in slumber and dreaming of physically entwining with long-gone Lady Grizelda, Was when the began bursting out.
There was no chance of any more sleep now, but I was well-pleased when I realised the time. I’d just had nine hours of sleep! Brilliant!

TTFNski, each!

Limitability Inchy: Monday 25th March 2024

26th March 2024 / Inchie / 5 Comments

23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.

I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.

I’d better start the Diary.

04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git!

Urine is even darker.

This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!

Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!

While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.

End car park view.

Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.

Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.

Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.

Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.

I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!

However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… …
I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen.
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Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips.
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The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep.
Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.

Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).

Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room.
A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.

I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!

Oh, dearie me, Little Inchie’s hurting again.

TTFN.

Illaudable Inchy: Sunday 24th March 2024

25th March 2024 / Inchie / 2 Comments

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05:10hrs; Got up to get the ablutions done before the Carer arrived. A lousy ablution session… mind you, the evacuation was a good one. Hahaha!
The blogging was another nightmare. mistakes, errors, corrections and frustrations.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet. Poor Jane is not an early riser—the opposite, actually. She was coughing away; she’s got the Lurgie, too. Naturally, she did not know. I expect a late call this morning. But it doesn’t matter at all to me. We had a natter, and I listened to her problems for a change. She asked why they did not call me. But, to be fair, they may have when I was in the wet room. Also, I’m not sure if my new telephone number has been passed on to them or not. I gave it to the flats Meridian set-up. He came later anyway. No problems.

The pain from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was horrendous all day long. It didn’t calm down until well late in the night. The Carer saw my state and rang for advice. Said they would send someone to check on it on Monday. We’ll see.
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Dark, too dark again.

Tried to take a photograph or two of the moon. The first one was fairish, the second warped.

Off to the wet room for a shower, shave and shush.

The preshave medicationalisationing was a fiddly and, at times, painful experience. It was the most painful and medicating session ever! Things have not been right down there since the last nurse replaced the catheter. I don’t need to move, and he hurts! If I could, I’d bottle the pain and send it to the Doctors with a note: “Here you are, try some of this now will you listen to me and help?”

Ablutions were sorted, alarm wristlets and alert bands on, and my ear holes were olive oiled. I struggled to stop stopped and creamed. , Cream on the . Barrier Creamed all around . Then tended to the bruise from the INR blood drain. Doesn’t usually show up this bad
The feet & ankles were looking healthier.
I turned to leave with the waste bin in hand and traditionally gave the door frame a charge with my right shoulder, setting off a few minutes’ worth of pain from .

Worst Ablution Session in a long time.

Took the made up bin gag to the front door.
Can you see a face in the carrier bag? Think of Red Dwarf’s Kryten’s face. I could see it. Hehe!

The carer was late, not that it mattered. Half an hour later, the landline rang out, making me jump.
It was Sister Jane. Meridian Care had phoned her to see if my Caregiver had arrived yet.

I concentrated on the hard slog of blogging for hours and hours; just not very successfully. Little Inchie was so painful at times, which did not help me concentrate on blogging. Humph!

Carer Kimberley arrived. She could not give me any painkillers because it had not been 4 hours between calls. So I took some Paracetamols. The pain from poor Little has never been worse. I took off the PPs I put on after washing, hoping it would not irritate things as much. But no, it’s just as bad now. With not having the pants on, I caught myself catching the catheter tube more often; AARGH!

What an amazing hue!

Despite the discomfort and sheer agony from little , the wee was flowing freely.

I added a packet of PP’s to the Asda order for Tuesday. I tried some different kinds this time

Carer Israel arrived while I was struggling to walk into the kitchen and showed his concern for me. That was nice. He rang someone and spoke to them. 111 probably. He told me they said it was likely to be an infection and a nurse would be calling to check it out tomorrow. Bless his cotton socks. He also had a quick sweep-up in the kitchen for me when he saw how painful it was for me to bend, stretch, bend, walk and keep a hold on things. I much appreciated his efforts.

Back on the blog. Then noticed how bright it looked outside, and I took this truly wonderful shot with … I love this one.
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Bootiful!

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Zoomed-in shot.
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Wider shot.

Burnt to perfection! Just how I love them to be.

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What a magnificent view,
From my kitchen window, too,
I’m pleased with these two,
I went into Smug-Mode, anywho,
Not a smudge, blotch or curlicue,
Decent sky shots were overdue,
Best view, hitherto!

All the Best to You!

Ireful Inchy: Friday 8th March 2024

9th March 2024 / Inchie / 2 Comments

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Yet another sad day, concentration-wise. I swear I was more out of it than with it for the majority of the day.
Doing the blogging, or trying to, I’d wander off to the Porcelain Throne; on the way back, I’d see some bits on the hallway floor and get the hoover out. A Carer calls, and my attention varies. The ten-minute Carer’s call was over, and I’d forgotten about finishing the hoovering and moved on to check what was in the fridge to cook for my meal for tonight. I returned to the computer and was amazed that so little was done on it. Searching for a Local News Snippet on the Your Area News site, something reminded me of my youth. I spent ages casting back my mind to my horrendous school days, musing at my bad choices, the bullies, the neighbours, etc.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and found that the hot water tap had been left on and had run cold.
Stubbing my toe en route back to the computer, I could not find my notepad with the scribbled reminders to use. A seizure or mind-blank took over, and suddenly, the pain from a PN electric shock in the leg (it’s moved up from the ankle now) brought me back from wherever I was, and it dawned that I’d been AWOL for two hours or so. As I stood up, the pain from the Catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie was excruciating. I felt the warm wetness as the blood flowed down from the PPs onto my leg and off to the wet room for cleaning and medicationalisationing.
When I came out, I set about setting up the template for the blog, not realising that I’d already done that and had some work to do. More time lost. No doubt I did many other things; the proof was in the few photographs I found on Kodak Tim’s SD card. These also prompted some remembrances. But what I did most of the day was a part of the mystery.
I reclaimed a degree of awareness of things, but not until the evening Carer called. I think Carer Sam came and put some prescriptions in the medical drawer. Vagueness is the word to describe today, I guess.
Belatedly doing, the nurse’s ode flowed easily. And although, as per usual, I was getting so tired and weary, which in itself was another mystery cause I’d done bugger all today.
I didn’t even get back to this blog until late Saturday morning! I think I’ll add Confusion to Vagueness.
Ah, yes, Carer Maryham did the first call. (I think) She was not very well; I think she had caught the ‘Bug’, bless her. I seem to recall worrying about her.
Only a few photos to go on, with the odd prompted memory added where I had one…
Thank heavens, I at least got the top graphics done early. I’m waffling well, ain’t I?

Front car park, from the kitchen window.

Misty morning.

Late morning, I think.

The new bed, with the fall-out bar and a slide-under-table. It’s comfy enough for me!

It looked like the road resurfacing was all done.

Afternoon or teatime sky.

I missed the sunset due to a mind-blank.
But took this as I went to make a meal.

See the difference twixt reality (above),
and how it looked on the box?
Most disappointing taste, too!

All the bestest!

Inept-Inchy: Frid 1st Mar 24 It’s more like a Carry-On film than life!

2nd March 20242nd March 2024 / Inchie / 8 Comments

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Are any Parole Boarders reading these?

Sorry, there are so many errors in my grammar and typography. I’m so far behind again. The concentration is bad enough; but I’ve started wandering off and doing other things before the original job was done, repeatedly so. FND and Cognitive Impairment Iris, Who do I blame?
Here we go, with the many items and incidents missed, forgotten or I gave up on.

Far too dark again! I’ll try to remember tp mention it to the social lady on Monday when she comes of telephones me. Or is that on Tuesday?

Gloomy morning view…
and sky.

Hours trying to get the blog started. But Iris sent me off on so many other things to do. Carer Chris called, and I have no idea what took place.

Boy, the skies had changed.

I rang Sister Jane. Getting ready to go to the football match at the City Ground.

Ginormous!
I’m glad that’s over!

Carer Joanne came. Poor gal has lost her hair. And her catheter is giving her grief too! Not feeling up to much, bless her. But we still managed a laugh or two. I hope she’s going to be alright. ♥

My concentration and confusion was so bad, I decided to make a brew and watch the TV for a while to try yo unwind… Then…
I made the mug of tea, but could I find the TV remote? No, I couldn’t! You can see why I’ve got nothing done today, can’t you? I spent over half an hour trying to find it, without any luck. I’d search every room, pocket and drawer. Baffled! I returned to put the computer back on and thought I’d have a last look for the remote
I emptied out everything off of the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner, but didn’t find it. I thought the only place it could be, was underneath the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner.
So, despite the orders not to bend or do any heavy lifting, I struggled… painfully to edge the recliner away from its usual position a little at a time. Each move was almost crippling my back and knees, but I was determined to find out if it was hidden under the chair. I could only do one chair move at a time. had to rest a minute or two between each one. Also, the rubbish I found each move had to be cleaned up.
Another hour or so later, I remembered I’d not collected the brew of tea yet. I was leaning on the arm of the recliner to lift myself up, and got a double-attack at just the wrong time. ! , gave way, and the at the same time! I crumpled, banging down in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Bursting open poor when I landed!
The agony only lasted for five minutes or so. Then I gingerly rose, grabbed a hold of precious , to the wet room to medicate my rear end, and Phorpain gelled . I was feeling a smidge sorry for myself and agree at me at the same time. The day was getting dark, and the blog had still not been started properly yet. Standing still or sitting down hurt after that, let alone trying to hobble around. Carer Chris arrived to break my concentration further on what needed doing. When I told him of my farcical Accifauxpas, he found them amusing. Haha!

I still had to get the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, not-working, rickety recliner back to its original position. The thought of having to contact the oligarchical about getting a replacement TV remote, I found daunting. Then I went to get the chair repositioned, and guess what I found, when I moved it?
Yep! The remote Control!

I can’t see things improving much.

It was well dark now, sod all done.

Went to try making another brew, and noticed the kitchen window view.
Bootiful, too!

Back on the computer, forgot all about making a mug of tea again. For a few minutes, things were going reasonably well… Carer Chris arrived. Full of the joys of spring, that cheered me up a bit.

Took two shots before the sun sank.

Gave up on the blog. no concentration left. painfully. The ribs I hit going down on the recliner. And then, the cartilage & ribs were aching away.
Then, a flipping and dusted my spectacle and dressing gown with dried flaked-off skin! I got a letter telling me the rent was going up, along with the communal electricity, caretaking costs, and CCTV charges.

And I still had to make a meal yet. The moment I got up, more pain from the back I twisted and ribs. But these things didn’t depress me, not at all. I was already depressed anyway!

At least the skies were changing and nice.

Early hours of the morning, I made a bowl of vegetable chilli. Grand!

I found this photo on Friday that I’d missed earlier.

I think I may have made a cock-up here?

My damned ribs and back are giving me some!

TTFN.

Incel-Inchy: Thursday 29th February 2024

1st March 2024 / Inchie / 2 Comments

Night bag red!
Bad, innit?

He looked poorly. No, cheering him up at all was successful. He must be going through hell with the diabetes symptoms. Poor lad.

Got on with the blogging catch-up. (Of course, I never caught up; I just got further behind as the day crawled, mistake-ridden on!). I thought yesterday was the worst day in months for typing and memory loss, which was annoying, but today was worse!

The intercom rang out. It was the Parsley Box delivery that Kara had arranged for me. The access button was pressed, and I realised the catheter pouch had to be emptied and hastened to do so. During this, I heard a loud thud. I thought it was the chap in the flat above; he has been getting noisier daily this week. I’m not complaining. I believe he also has to walk with a stick, so I know how he is, like me dropping stuff all the time, hence making noise for the poor tenant below me.
I got to the door and found what the earlier thud must have been. The DHL driver had dropped the box of ready meals on the floor outside the door. This was poor; the box split and tore… will I use them anymore?
I spent a long time using to take photos of each meal I’d bought.
Collectively.
Mushroom Risotto
Vegetable & Lentil Hotpot
Three bean Chilli
Vegetarian Cottage Pie.
Meat Free Chilli.
Cumberland Pie.
I read each meal to find the cooking time it needed. Each one varied a little, but the timing and the sell-by dates were written large enough for me to read easily. The shortest sell-by date was Nov 24. Some had Jan 25 dates. They can be stored without a fridge or freezer. I’ll try a Cumberland Pie tonight and add some canned garden peas.

Finally, I finished the blog. As arrived. She rang the Community Nurse’s place and told them about the new Catheter pouch being too long and the tube too thick. They said they would replace them with men’s day bags ASAP. Thanks, Kara! ♥.

I realised when I got back on the computer that I was out of templates for the blog. So, foolishly, thought I’d do a month’s worth in advance. This time, determined not to make a right hash of it and get things wrong, like dates and days for each one, and have to re-sort them like last time. I went into concentration mode and proceeded to make up the templates. After three hours, the next Carer arrived.
It was . We had a natter after she’d sorted the medications, and she had to rush off, busy, busy, busy; bless her, leaving with a smiling face.
When I got back to the template making. I was like another different creature. Confidence was all gone, and I got myself lost for a while, trying to find where I was up to with the task.
Another hour later, I felt delighted and thought I’d done an excellent job this time. I almost went into an undeserved . This belief later turned out to be fallacious! Humph!”.

I smugly turned off the computer; I’d tired myself out with the concentrating, I think. Mind you, I’m not getting much sleep due to my fixation with doing this blog… for far too many hours each day. But I love it when I can raise a smile or two with the truth.

Arrived to carry out the late call.
I showed off to him and looked at the list of templates I’d done.
Dagnabbit, and balderdashski! I’d missed two days off and doubled up on another. And now they are all out of order and sync. Crying was an option, as was cursing and self-recrimination… not as far as suicide, though! Chris thought it was funny. Huh! Boy, was I irked at my own stupidity! No meal or TV watching tonight; I had to correct the errors and spent an aeon getting them sort of nearly, well, something like an imitation of a workable order.
A really mixed-up mess to tackle every day of the month now. I fear dates, days, etc., may get flummoxed!

Not a good shot, Tsk!
A smidge betterer?

A commonplace late-night event here.
I wanted to stay awake to watch the film The Rock. Every single time the adverts came on, I drifted off into slumber. But not for long. Because I kept getting woken up with . I gave up and turned off the TV, but the mini-shocks kept coming regularly. Thankfully, took the night off, and it didn’t bother me. Then again, with the ankle shocks, he wasn’t needed to ensure I gave up not only on watching the box but also trying to sleep. I got up at 03:15hrs and rose up like a behemoth… is that the right word? Pondered on what day it was and got my feet down on the floor again as I climbed out of the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibblings, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly-grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300, ten-years ago from the Scope charity shop in Sherwood, recliner.

Fare Thee All Well…
Luck’s coming your way,
Yes, I can tell…
If not, have a day that’s swell!

Adios Amigos!

Inchy: Wednesday 28th February 2024

29th February 2024 / Inchie / 2 Comments

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Terribly up-and-down day today. Alternating seemingly every five-minutes to me, looking back.
But, so busy. Carer Kara helped me sort out the meal ordering. As well as the diabetic course booking.
This period was the most up one of the day.
Electric-like shocks from the ankles came on so often, far more than any other day since they started.
The new day [ouch on the catheter is leaving scars much worse than the old type were. Bleeding f from the fungal lesion is far worse. Plus, Reflux Roger with his blasts of wind coming up, making three carers, Shaquille, Maryham and Kara, all laugh.
Trouble with the Liberty-Global TV.
Watched the Forest vs Man Utd match. It’s a shame they lost; they deserved a draw, at least; the refereeing seemed biased to me… again, against Forest.
The mind blanks/seizures and Electric-like ankle shocks were both persistent today. When asleep, a rarity that… the ankle shocks often wake me up, but when awake and out-of-it, wither they do not strike or wake me up? Conrad’s Confusion reigns.

The Catheter Katie night pouch did not have much in it, and it was far too dark.
Removed it from the day bag. This new style, which I believe is a woman’s version, has a really thick, long tubing. The release valve at the bottom is touching my slippers; it’s that long! When it fills, the weight drops it down even further, making reaching it to release the valve to be emptied, is difficult and painful.

Morning view ahead.
The misty sky.

called on the first call of his day shift.
The lad looked in top form. He gave me some tips on cooking pasta, after sorting the medications out.

A few minutes later, arrived. On a financial help call. Sorted the letters that had arrived. Then handled ordering the Parsley Box order for me.
She checked the bother with the new-type catheter. I’d hoped she call the District Nurses to see if they could be swapped, but don’t know if I asked her not now.
I’m lost when Kara does not call.
Maryham, Marie, Christopher and Shaquille have all helped me this week. Much appreciated, too. But it is only Kara that the bank will talk to on my behalf. She also helped me through the options for the Diabetes Course. Manuel is phoning or calling on Monday; I’ll mention the painful catheter to him.

A nearly full front car park this afternoon.
Sometimes, I miss having a car or motorbike to use. But it was sensible to voluntarily hand in my driving licence when I started getting the seizures. I don’t regret doing this usually, in fact, I’m kind of proud of myself for doing it. The thought that I could kill an innocent person should I drop off while driving was the reason I surrendered the licence. I was thinking of this and had a look at the mobility scooters available.

called. She had a giggle at my revelations and jokes. Did me a lot of good that did!
Kimberly found my jokes funny! Grrreat!.
Diabetic socks were put on, and medications were issued. Safety checks were done.

After an hour or two constantly sat down at the computer, the bag was filling again.
I painfully bent down to get to the release valve, which with the weight of urine, was now on the floor! And noticed afterwards the state of the top of the leg, where the extra-thick (No, I’m not talking about me, Hehe!) and long tube had worn a shape into the leg.
I wiped off the trickles of blood and took this picture of it. I’m hoping Kara can call the District Nurses, or wherever she calls it, to ask them if there is any chance they can swap back to the old shorter ones.