Baffled Inchy: Thursday 19th December 2024

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Discussing death is not at all morbid, 
I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’

I didn’t mind there was no altercation

Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven!
Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid?
Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid…
Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid!
It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person,
Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration?

Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion?
Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen!
I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion,

Sid: You’re causing me some confusion!
Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion?
Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism,
Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism!
My faith in humankind’s incomprehension…
Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern!
At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum,
Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction,
Sid: But I’ll make this prediction…
Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven…
Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid,
Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid,
Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid!
Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid!
What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid!

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The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening.
The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia.
Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions  . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? 
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A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.

The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?

I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early.
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It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates.
Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. 
I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit.
I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!

After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!

I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.

I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.

I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling!
When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago.

It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment!
It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding!
Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with.
I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!

The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!

Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥

I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha!
I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin…
Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so!
Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!

Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.

But I can remember making and eating the nosh!
Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added.
Yummy!
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TTFN, Everyone!
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Depressed Inchy: Monday 16th December 2024

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I’ve still not made an appointment with the audiologist,
Life’s gone all confused, with more abstrucities,
Now I’ve got problems with the new Pharmacist,
The prescriptions were not delivered by the chemist,
Got to phone Matron at the clinic…
Then, the dispenser chap at Jaypex,
I was less confused with Covid and Brexit!
Hearing aid kaput, that takes the biscuit!
Can’t hear folks talk on the phone; dolorific!
Got to ring Matron Julie; that’ll be terrific!
Plans and logic have gone folkloric!
Are my memories actual or fictitious?
I thought the swap-over was completed?
My remaining confidence is now depleted!
Problems! But am I to blame or guiltless?
Mix-ups, failures, unknown conjunctures…
Forgot, misheared, errors are circumforaneous!
Baffling, min-bending, even deceptious,
Many complications; I dare not make a list!
What happened with the gastroenterologist?
It was long ago, memories in a fog & mist,
Fears, worries, rampant, not just a glitch,
Thought I was helping with the chemist switch,
Frustration, I’d had far more than a glutch,
They ask me things, but Memory Mangling Iris…
Has me guessing answers, not sure, hyperbolic,
My thoughts are non-heuristic, pathetic,
The nut Doctor said I was hypokinetic…
Don’t understand it, but I can remember it!
I need some help before I go manic,
I’m getting nothing solved, chewing at the bit,
New meanings and instructions just don’t fit,
I’ve never been so misanthropic,
My brain is ever more peripatetic,
I suppose this reads rather pessimistic?
I think that was the idea and or trick…
Peripheral Neuropathy, seizures, a diabetic…

Angina, Glaucoma, knees & hands arthritic,
So many ailments I can feel phantasmagoric!
No wonder I’m going all self-pedantic!
Folks should see that I’m oxymoronic…
Double-check I’ve not made a mistake,

Get me help… that’d be just the tonic!
Depression can be recidivistic…
Shames and embarrassments are automatic,
This day I have a new enuredness…
Life today enfolds a deeper equivocalness,
Murkiness, obscurity, apprehension,
Anonymity, tension, lack of invention…
I suppose I’m a mental circumforanean,
Full of depression and exasperation?
Self-pity, grumpy and mental exhaustion,
There’s one possibility, one explanation…
My self-floccinaucinihilipilification?

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05:10hrs: Got up and took the night pouch off. 
I decided to finish the Sunday blog, shower, perform Throne duties, have a shave, and put on my trousers, ready to go to the shops later. Huh!

I cleaned up a mess I’d left in the kitchen sink, made up the waste bags, and got on with the blog—but not for long. The innards rumbled and off to the Porcelain Throne.
The evacuation took 30 seconds, and the cleaning up afterwards took about 10 minutes.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
The Asda order arrived.
This one was in a big, big order.
The fridge was filled.

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Richard arrived. He was not very happy with me for changing the chemists around. I was hurt a smidge, not the lad in any way. It’s just that when Matron Julie suggested changing it, I thought that it would be a good idea to save Richard from fetching the medications for me each month. But he’d set up a system with the Carrington Chemist. Not only that, Richard said the prescriptions should have been delivered by now from the Jayplex Chemist. I must ring them today to find out what is going on. I felt terrible at getting it wrong, and Depression Duncan came on. Everything I try to do to help seems to fail! 

Back to the blogging—but not for long.
Carer Chloe came, and I was in a part-depression and part-seizure mode. I explained why to her. She issued the medications and went to check the taps for me…
I’d left the hot tap running! 
It had run cold. So, no washing and shaving until tonight when the heater comes on. Another bout of self-name-calling, and I got so angry with myself over it. It was getting to me even deeper now. I felt awful.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. I got a text message, followed by another one, before I could get to my super-new mobile phone. Hehehe!
But the message thingy told me, ‘Unable to save this message’ on both calls. Now, I wondered if it might be from a company that might be delivering the prescriptions. But, like most things in this world, it was a mystery to me. Maybe it was to tell me a parcel is on its way? I’ll never know. I deleted some messages, hoping they could or might send them again. And praying that it was the medications in the first place. No shopping for me, and no shaving, scrubbing, or medication until the evening when the water gets hot enough to wash & shave. I think that might be read wrongly.

Back to the blogging—but not for long. 
They were kicked off, and now, five hours later, they are still with me! Fortunately, they have all been short ones up to now. Enough to break the already near-absent concentration, though.

I gave up on the blogging. What I’ve got is all I can put on. found a new depth.
I can’t recall it being so frustrating for a long time. Of course, I and ‘remembering’, do not have a strong affinity.

I felt even worse now, thinking that the prescription may of may not be coming. I was also too scared to use the tap to make a brew of Glengettie because I was afraid of running even more water. All in all, I was on a downer.
So, I decided to make an early nosh. But being blessed with indecisiveness, a lack of willpower, and aboulomania, combined with a degree of… well, forgetting things, I forgot about the food and went on the WordPress Reader.

Cheesy cobs with no-butter-butter
beef and tomato slices. Garden peas.
Pickled eggs with black pepper.
Shop-bought pickled silverskins &
Home Pickled, pickled mushrooms!
Lipsmackingly Good!
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TTFNski, Each!

Somnipathy Inchy: Sunday 15th December 2024

Oh, got it now! Hehe!
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If I may describe the ways of Dementia,
She’s a brain attacker, my resident intruder,
A confuser, teaser, a permanent-squatter,
Some days, she’s a near 100% beleaguer,
Now she has got even craftier, crueller,
She created debilitating Sandra’s Seizures,
Also, bothersome Electric Shocking Sherida,
Their attacks give Doreen time to rest, recover,
It can’t be easy living in my cerebral matter,
Naturally, she’ll need time to recuperate,
While they give me hell, Doreen can resuscitate,
I think, really, she wants to be tender…
Or does it make me sound like a pretender?
Of course, this Ode is mostly conjecture…
No help from the Doctor, NHS or Pastor,
Hope is getting harder to muster…
I’ll just go battier, barnier & barmier?
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05:20hrs: I jiggled out of the hospital bed without suffering any mishaps. I freed the nocturnal catheter pouch and got on industriously (for me); I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bins out. I should, I suppose, have felt a smidge guilty as I checked out the empty crisp packets in the bed bin. One Marmite, one Frazzle, and two Pickled onion bags. Ahem! 
The crumbs in the bed called for an all-off, shake-about, and a hoovering-up job. Which I bet the neighbour above may not have appreciated. It’s a loud vacuum. But I didn’t appreciate how early it was at first. But I was a good boy when it did dawn on me, and I stopped partway through, offering unheard apologies to the gentleman in the flat above.

Into the kitchen. Before the kettle had boiled, an urgent rumbling from the innards and passing of wind encouraged me to hobble hastily to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence ruled the session and took his time clearing a dirty-great load of watery, splashy, Karki-coloured evacuated product. My hearing aids are both kaputt, but I could hear the product splashing into the water two minutes later! On the bright side, there was no pain or bleeding whatsoever! Good! But a lot of cleaning was needed; the porcelain and the rear end parts of me! Not Good!
No shave this morning. Just a stand-up wash, clean and dry the areas about to be ointmentated. Not really, only little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and cleaning and creaming the groin were any hassle, pain-wise. Then it wasn’t too bad.

I went to make the tea and took it to the computer. I even remembered to change the day & date on the 1970’s clock. I dunked a large cookie in the tea and got that, which I often do. I feared I might have left the taps running in the wet room, so I checked. Why do I not get these worries and urges when I do leave it running?
Seeing the colour of the sky as I exited the wet room, I fetched the camera and took this shot of it. A much better effort than yesterday’s try. Smug-Mode!

I started updating yesterday’s blog; there was not much to add. I got it finished at 09:20 hours. I recall thinking, surely the Carer must have been by now? Then, the progress in computing took a backward step. Started, little and often, for around an hour or so. I found myself emptying the catheter day pouch in the WC; the clock showed 11:15hrs. I believed a Carer must have called while I was partially out of things. Got back to the computer and checked to see if any messages or missed calls were on the mobile. I don’t know how, but the phone had a message on it from 2022? Summat else broke? Then kicked off. This was about 11:30hrs and still no carer. I’m not confident enough to guess which tablets are for this problem. I took an extra Codeine later on. It got bad in the afternoon. arrived at 11:40hrs. Some had not turned in, and he looked tired, but only my EQ recognised it. The lad was not complaining. Hopefully, the Angina tablets, whichever they are, will start to work soon. Better late than never. It’s a devil of a job keeping to schedules at Christmas time. I know from my working days.

I’d gotten the Saturday blog sent off. I’m not sure how many errors there were, but it was a few, I reckon. I made a belated start on this blog. A stop-and-start affair was becoming less frequent now. I wasn’t happy about the bothersome  Usually moving across and up and down the chest pains when they stayed in one place.

turned up, nice to see her. I had an extra Codeine as she was at her worst of the day. I got a little fretful once, but she’s calmed down a smidge now. It’s just the odd twinge to let me know she’s still there.

Were getting problematical again, but still less than a while ago around 16:00hrs.

I took a breather, deciding to take some snaps of the early evening views. I took these for over 15 minutes, which shows how fast it gets dark nowadays.

Getting weary again, the evening Carer might be here anytime now. If the poor thing has got caught up yet.

I’m planning on having some roast beef-filled rolls with tomatoes tonight. In fact, I’ll get them done now.
I am an impulsive old chap! Hehehe!

Carer Vic arrived, I asked him to open the jar of beetroot and pickled mushrooms for me. 

The nosh went down well!
And very nice it was, too!.

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I’ve just…
I’ve just stabbed myself in my left hand,
Ailments and Whoopsies expand…
A bit of good luck would be grand,
Food will arrive tomorrow from Iceland…

There’s still danger from Putinland,
Tomorrow, I may cut my right hand?
I’m uneducated but still a gourmand,
In the event of going to the Hinterland,
Please play the music of Aka Bilk’s band,
Why I wrote this ode, I don’t understand.
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Have a wonderful day!
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Empathy Inchie: Saturday 14th December 2024

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A night of broken sleep again. No dreams, but a few awakenings from and ensured it was a horrible, miserable, painful night. I was in bed for six hours, but the sleeping part must have been far less. You know me; I don’t like to complain… too much. Hehe! 

Carer Promise later gave the nocturnal weewee pouch a number 6 on the NHS Richter scale. Haha! I took the worst photo of the morning view from the kitchen window. I found later that all of Kojo’s photos were right out of the sink. I changed back to Kodak Tim after a few failures. I’ll ask Carer Christopher to see if he can reset the errors I must have made to my Kojo camera on Monday. Tsk!

It was too early to shower, so I had a stand session. Well, it started sitting down, really, on the Porcelain Throne. It was back with a vengeance. Talk about messy! It took me such a long time just cleaning up after that session on the seat!
Then I did the shaving… Dang dang, dang… Dang!
I didn’t do so well this time. I had a few, maybe ten cuts, all trifling ones, mind you. I got the Mini-Shakes but had not realised they were so imperceptive this time. Not only that, after I’d finished shaving and dowsed my head and neck in aftershave, I had a feel around the neck to see if they had stopped flowing, which they had… but the annoying new growths of hair on the back seemed to have avoided repeatedly the blades of the razors? I could sense them, almost hear them laughing at me. Har-Har! With my neurotransmitters dying of, I used the palm of my hand. Often, the finger ends lose all sensation. Like a week ago, two ago. I was in the kitchen and suddenly, only by smelling the burning flesh, realised I’d burnt three fingers on the oven racks! Still, I’ve got no oven now that it’s given up the ghost! I hope to have the new mini-oven fitted on Monday or Tuesday.

I removed my feet, which had been marinated in a bowl of hot water, and washed up liquid and Dettol while shaving. Drying them of when one cannot genuflect is a work of art. I found a way of wrapping some kitchen towels around the small picker-upperer so they don’t tear the towelling so much. Also, it gives me vital reach to get to the unbendable left leg of the Cartilage Chloe. Cunning, innit?

Now for dodgy duties. Today, I decided to medicate The fungal lesion on Little Inchie first instead of last. Get the painful one out of the way! I used the new cream on the lesion this morning instead of the Betamethasone cream for the first time. Blimey, it was almost painless! Naturally,  the moving of the tubing was just as bad. But I’m not sure that it will work without pain. Haha! I’ll know by the morning when I wake up, I imagine. While on the lower regions of my whale-like, flabby body, I, both knees. I gave them a good long rubbing in, and by then, I tended to &
with the Phorpaining. I put the Med Hydrankle ulcer rub on with the picker-upperer.
Then I water jetted out the ear holes and put olive oil in each canal.
Then I got the Blepha eye cleaner and gels rubbed in, hoping that would appreciate them and not make things go foggy so often today. Huh, that was a forlorn hope. Still, yer can’t win ’em all!
It was turn next. I also used the Barrier cream on them, as instructed by the district nurse. Never again, it’s back to the Germolene again in the morning. It’s expensive, but it eases the agony from the piles! This barrier cream did nothing for the pain. Humph!
Then, the I tried to leave in a less painful position. It didn’t work, and poor Little Inchie has had a rotten day of torment and discomfort. I shall have a word with the nurse when she calls again. I can’t understand it. Things have been much easier for Inchie for two or three days. Today, it was back to its worst ever! But, it’s only pain. If it wasn’t the Catheter, something else would be playing up… I wish it was. But then again, better the devil, you know.
Now, to barrier cream the man’s breasts, arms, belly, groin and where I can reach on the back of the neck. I left the breasts till last cause they had been so good the last couple of days.
The moment the cream touched under the man-udders, I jumped at the pain! I may have said a few naughty words and ARRGH as well.
I sprayed the nasal spray up each nostril and got my medical alert wristbands on. The Diabetic and Neuropathy Dementia ones have both broken and snapped off. Hey-Ho!

I put on the PPs, a gown, and a dressing gown; they are lovely and snug, too. Carer Promise came in as I put on the kettle to brew a cup of Co-op 99 tea. I asked him to put on my diabetic socks first, as my feet were rather cold while my uppers were warm. It was an odd feeling.
He looked after me and got them on for me. Medications were given. It was Promise who took the photo of the man’s breasts. Whatever it was that seemed to have developed, grown underneath them? I expected whatever it was to look all red and delicate, but as you can see above, it didn’t. What is it? The tenderness slowly eased over the day. It’s nearly six PM now, and I can touch them without pain. It’s a funny world, but you know that.

Carer Joanne did the net call. I think I was on the computer and in a seizure mode at the time. I talked a lot and felt we had a laugh about something.

The rest of the afternoon… well, was blank-ridden. I got all confused over the photos and made so many mistakes on the blog it was unreal. When and why I took this photo remains a mystery. Hand on, no, it doesn’t. I think it must have been to try the cheap camera again. Because it looks terrible. I guess I unwittingly changed some settings on it. Another problem for Carer Christopher to look at for me. Bless him.
I’m not sure, but I think I must have taken this this morning sometime...

I wonder if I’ll ever get help with these problems that keep bothering me? Mentally, I mean.
I’ll make something to eat after going on the WordPress Reader – if I remember to. Hahaha!

Carer Vic just called.
I will get summat to eat, but there is not much choice.
Instant mash & sausage with some beetroot, maybe.
I’ll not starve. Well…
Back in the morning. (He says)

FURRY OF THE WEEK.
From Tim Prices Blog.

Fabulous Furries and a great blog!

Yum, Yum!
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May the Force Be With You!

Apathy Inchy this Sunless, Friday 13th December 2024

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Sometimes, one must be strict,
Especially if Summat’s been nicked,
Or someone acted uncaringly wicked,
Be it by human creatures or bionic,
Suitable punishment would be a tonic,
Sentences & crime do not befit,
Murder sentences are bullshit,
To save the cost of housing in the nick,
Parole Boarders are so easy to bootlick,
Provided inside with drugs & arsenic,
Solutions are beyond the bureaucratic,
Then, there’s Starmer & the Tory’s deficit!
His rosy cheeks indicate an alcoholic,
Who’s not diplomatic but diabolic!
Robbing pensioners was rather drastic,
His stealing from the poor & increased taxes,
Complains about this from Unions & Voters,
Keir ignored them, and they hoicked,
Freebies? He’s self-absorbed, narcissistic,
Take his vows with ethylenediaminetetraacetic,
Listing his backhanders would be encyclopaedic,
To the Labour party values, he’s econoclastic…
This ode sounds docudramatic,
But I can do nothing but kvetch…
The ode’s themes are, sadly, logorrhoeic,
And far from being mesmeric…
The name Starmer I use as a mnemonic,
When I can’t recall the word pathogenic!

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I woke late and might been even later if it had not been for the unintentional waking me up from the dream I was having by Peripheral Neuropathy Pete. And it was not the leg! The last time I made an unpremeditated Hitler Salute was many months ago. This morning’s  ‘Heil Hitler Salute’ knocked over two bottles of spring water, two bags of Frazzles, and a teaspoon & fork. (Although they may be dropped in my slumber, especially if I have a dream or seizure. I tend to do a fair  bit of nocturnal damage, you know!) 
The dream was a good one, what bits I can recall. I was on the roof of the flats, and I couldn’t remember the door code to get back in. So I jumped off the building (15 floors), landing in a tree. An ambulance arrived instantly. Three medics came to, I thought, rescue me. But instead, they beat the hell out of me and took my bank card, demanding the number. I swore at them… something else happened… I was under the ambulance with one of the medics with a notebook and a pen bent over me. Telling me that the ambulance would run slowly over my bone-dome if I didn’t give them my pin… Well, I couldn’t remember it! She called to the driver, and the bloodwagon’s front wheel started to press against my head. I’m sure I thought to myself, ‘Ah, sod it!’ The next second, I was in bed Hitler Saluting, which clouted my knuckle against the wall, and reining in my arm, I bashed my elbow and hit my head on the safety bar. Knocking stuff off the overbed table. Still, I thought it was much better than getting my head crushed underneath an ambulance. (I was temporarily confused between reality, logicality and fantasy, then?)

I let my head clear… as straightforward as it will ever be, and removed the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch from the day bag. Later, Carer Chris Confirmed this bloodied pouch had a number 6 rating on the NHS check card. Far too red!

I went to the kitchen to put the kettle on for a small mug of Co-op 99 tea. 
Taking a couple of snaps of the morning view.
A lot of difference in the sky colour. They were taken within about three minutes of each other. The green aura was back again. This often comes morning and night. No idea why.

Kettle on, and I hobbled to the wet room to get the ointmentating done in my private areas. Piles, Little Inchies fungal lesion, under my arms and man-breasts. Hehe! Plenty of cream to use. I hope I remember ordering some more on time. On leaving, I managed to get my leg tangled up with . Which tugged at , and she’s not forgiven me now, 12 hours later! Hope I’ve not made things worse than usual. I’ll see how it goes.

Carer Chris arrived in a jolly mood. It was nice to see that. He and I forgot to put the diabetic socks on. But he invoked changing the day catheter rigmarole for me. Did a good job, too. Then he took some photos of me with different expressions on my mush to use later in the Inchy Today… tomorrow.

Later, after struggling, I still got them saved, so I took this snap of the computer screen with them in CorelDraw.

I sorted the bin bags out and felt I’d forgotten something. So I checked around, including taps, fridge and freezer doors, windows, etc. But I felt uncomfortable not knowing why everything was alright after looking around.  

They kicked off and stayed with me for at least three hours until Carer Joanne came. I was trying to sort the Thursday blog finalising. But it was hard work with all the correcting I had to do. The gal had done the not-machine-washable gowns for me again. She really is a lifesaver. We laughed and joked, and I did most of the talking. I do that too often. Tsk!


Ace reporter & photographer Inchy of Cell 72 took these photographicalisations of the fire from his kitchen.

I put Radio Nottingham on to see it. I could find out where it was; it looked close, maybe on Hadyn Road.

The intercom burst into song. I was a delivery. Surely I had not done it again and ordered more bloody food?
Nope, it was the Mini-oven that was due tomorrow.
And it is much bigger than I thought it would be. But the deliveryman carried it through to the kitchen for me. I’m doubting it will fit on the old clapped-out stove now.
I’ll ask Carer Chris when his next day in is and beg him to help me fit it.
It looks wider than the flipping freezer!
Oh, dear, another Inchy Cock-up?

Carer Chris came later. He seems to think it might just go on the stove. He opened the box to check. I’m not sure, but I hope the lad can manage it for me. Bless him.

I got the rolls and onion out of the fridge. (I can’t get into the freezer, whimp me, can’t move the mini-cooker, it’s too heavy for me to manage. Tsk!
I got back on the computer and was impressed with how far I’d got on with it. !

Well, it’s now 19:25. It’s a toss-up between washing, eating, or going to bed. No problem. I’m too tired to wash and can’t sleep anyway, so I’ll make up the two cheese cobs with red onion, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, and beef with no-butter butter and have summat to eat. That sounds fair enough to my gluttony. Hehehe!

Hopefully, I’ll be back in the morning to finish this.
TTFN.

I got the meal sorted.
The resulting feast.
Three cheese bread rolls are spread with extra-strong cheese paste, ham, tomatoes, red onions, and pickled mushrooms. I forgot the beetroot. Tsk!

Carer Chris arrived for the last call. He removed the diabetic socks, medicated me, and grabbed some nibbles and a drinkie to help me sort out the mini-cooker on Monday. I hope he does anyway.
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Keepeth well and safe. I wish everyone could.

Twitchy Inchy: Thursday 12th December 2024

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05:30hrs:  I stirred, with Cartilage Chloe giving me pain the moment I tried to genuflect the leg. She’s still bothering me a bit now. I detached the night ouch from the catheter day pouch. A little dark, but I’ve had far worse. I felt pretty good as I started plodding around, apart from Chloe. There have been no electric shocks so far! It was very cold this morning. I sorted some waste bags and limped into the kitchen. I snapped a picture of the morning view and checked the fridge to ensure I could fit all of today’s food in when the delivery arrived. 
I removed a pack of the horrible-tasting Asda brand cheesy topped rolls and binned them. Make a fine, tasty brew of Glengettie tea, and I got the computer booted up.
The Windows update brought up some Microsoft details that confused me about what it was reading. Grrr!
Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose in a rush. I got to the wet room ASAP, only just in time as things started moving of their own accord. Trotsky Terence controlled. Messy, back to the Karki colouring, pooey, and sticky. It took a lot of cleaning up. I cleaned and ointmentated various body areas and parts in need. I have no shortage of Barrier cream!
The intercom chirped up. It was the J Sainsbury order arriving. The driver soon appeared at my doorway and was very helpful & understanding of my problems. Thank you, driver!
As I began to put them away, Carer Sam arrived. With the order on my mind, I forgot to ask her to put on my diabetic socks. Tsk! Sam issued the medications, and we had a mini-natter and a laugh. I wondered if she knew how long one had to pickle mushrooms before one could eat them, as I intended to try making some today. Neither of us knew, so I’ll look it up later on the web. Off she went… and I got back to unpacking the foodstuffs. I’ll do it now! 

Oh, dear! I remembered I did not have a cooker now! So I can’t boil them. Humph!

Back to unloading and storing. This photograph shows potato chunks, mushrooms (Huh!), beef tomatoes, beetroot chilli, a jar of garden peas, imitation butter, and lemon desserts. 
Some drinks and nibbles. Then I checked the fridge, but there was almost no difference from the one I had taken earlier. No shortages, though.
Plenty of jars of meat, few cans in the cupboard, and some long-life, ready-made meals to do in the microwave. 
Then I took another kitchen window shot. I think that is the last I remember taking that picture, for about an hour or so. The most odd seizure that I’ve ever had. Time to call the medics! I was back on the computer when things became more transparent about what was what. I was searching for the Nuthall Hospital number, and the landline chirped. Who was it? A lady from Nuthall Hospital! Amazing! They are cancelling next week’s appointment and will make a new one for the new year. Me? I thanked her very much and wished her a Happy Christmas. As I was emptying The Catty Catheter day pouch minutes later… It came to me that I forgot to tell her about the seizure & I was worried about it lasting so long. I gave up and didn’t bother again! EQ informed me it will get worse, mate! It did, too! And went into another seizure. Just a few minutes worth. I made silly errors in what I did on the blog while I was semi-conscious. A depression dawned.

I went to the wet room, intent on showering, shaving, and doing the teggies. Then, get the medications sorted. Not a chance! Carer Sam came in. Mind you, it was nice to see her again. She got my diabetic socks on for me. It may only have been for a minute or two of nattering, but it was good and relieved my tensions somewhat. It didn’t last for long but it was nice.

Naturally, after she’d gone, I forgot about my showering. I went contentedly back on the computer.

Peripheral Pete gave me half an hour or so of one-legged dancing, a sort of cross between doing the Oki-Cokey and the Stomp! The two ailments have lasted longer than ever before. I wondered what the third would be.
When the one-legged come dancing was over, I went to make a brew of tea.
I realised I had not thoroughly cleaned up after the food delivery, so I made another waste bag for the chute.

I have started pottering around and have never finished doing endless unrelated jobs. Finally, I’m convinced another visit from Seizure Sandra had got me, of all things, starting to make some pickled mushrooms? I even took photos of the process!  However, I had another leg dance when Carer Chris came in and dropped the camera. Chris looked at it and thought it was alright. But when I came to upload the three photos after he’d gone, they were not on the card. The camera was Kaputt! Now, I hit the depths of depression and disbelief! 
I snapped this screen to see if Kodak had saved it to the card. Dag-my-Knangles, it did! But look at the fading on the right side? I took another shot, fingers crossed and praying. I took one of the evening views from the kitchenette window. This one seemed alright? I thought I’d take a shot of the ‘Inchie-inspired jar of pickled mushrooms with seasoning and water chestnuts in pickling vinegar. It says on the web to leave it for a minimum of three days to season the mushrooms, but it is best to leave it for a minimum of 5 days before eating. It also said how easy it was to make them. Easy & me, do not go together. At least they should be okay to eat for Christmas. And the photo looked to be alright this time. 
I’ve got two cheesy cobs out of the freezer. Here is my plan; Slice and no-butter butter the cobs. Slice some tomatoes with some salt, maybe some beetroots on the side? Slice some red onion to go in the cobs perhaps. Whichever, I’ll turn the TV on to see if anything is worth watching and get the cobs done.

The Liberty-Global-owned Virgin TV was turned on, and for ten seconds, all looked well. Then A screen filled fully with a message telling me that an updated version is now available. Press the Install Now or Do it Later (Or not now) tab. Of course I tried but nothing happened, the screen remained there annoyingly. I tried turning it off several times, and I got the same result each time! Failure! 
Eventually, it clicked. The message was not from Virgin; it must have been from the TV makers, Bush, that Liberty-Global engineer (I’m talking loosely here), routed through the Virgin Fibre thingy. There followed a one-hour search for the bush remote control. It was a bit of a miracle that I found it at all.
Then, I pressed the Not Now option. Great!
Then… it came back on every ten minutes! I gave up and nervously pressed the Install button.
I was fed up and turned Del Boy on the TV. 
Then, the message came up again.
I clicked install, and a mass of options came up that I didn’t really understand, in the least!
The screen went blank.
I swore, could I take anymore?
To my amazement, the TV came back on.
Now, I will need both remote controls to us it.
I was struggling to get used to one!

Carer Chris will be here soon; no time for me to get the food done before he arrives. I’ll start prepping the nosh. I can wrap it up to keep it fresh for later. I hope Chris doesn’t stay too long… I may have to start eating him. Hahaha! I gave the lad one of the two iced buns with cream. He said he’s taken some photos of facial expressions for me tomorrow morning. So I can use them later on the blog. We’ll see if I remember.

I just realised that I didn’t have the shave & shower!!!

Two cheesy cobs, heavily spread with no-butter butter, and sliced tomatoes slightly salted. Surimi sticks, raw fresh garden peas. A pickled egg and mushrooms. Cooked sweet-chilli beetroots with chopped red onions. Followed by an iced bun with cream! 
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Many Good Fortune befall you!
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Tetchy Inchy: Wed 11th December 2023

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WHEN YOU WOKE UP…
Did you wake up this morning feeling breathless?
Still with your baldness? Any new bruises? 
Or feel ambitionless? Did you go breakfastless?
Did you plan your day’s activities & bundobust?
Were you at your bubbliest or bleariest?
Maybe you expected your day to be banjaxed?
Were you composed, or did you feel a bloodlust?
Did your booziness make you wake in a blurriness?
Wake up with grumpiness or bounteousness?
Mayhap you had a craving for bifters?
Have you dreamt of nudists or babysitters?
Had a nocturnal visit from a burglarist?
Will you be able to find an NHS dentist?
I ask on behalf of an HMG behaviourist…
They’re thinking of raising VAT on toothpaste!
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I misspelt confirmation on purpose just to see if anyone would notice my rare error that wasn’t an error. Ahem!

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Great Balls of Fire! I got nearly six hours of sleep last night! Fair enough, it was broken a few times when dearest  woke me in his criticising, debasing, mocking and cruel way. But, being as he dwells inside my head, I suppose it was me, or perhaps that was to blame. Either way, Two nights without sleep, then one with 4 hours, and now I’m up to 6 hours, albeit broken! I felt so much better when, at 05:00hrs, I returned to semi-mock-wakefulness.

I was 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 eleven years ago from the charity shop, recliner. So, I was able to remove the without getting up. I sat a little longer, thinking of a happy memory (and precious few are available) from 60 years ago. Oddly, I can’t recall her name, but the good bits I could and did. An even rarer thing happened during my daydream; I smiled! 

I photographed the nocturnal pouch after freeing it from the day bag. Selina confirmed the colour as a five on the NHS Colour Card log.

Considering the events of the last few days, I felt a little perkier this morning. Naturally, with my experience and bad luck, I restrain myself from entering a .

En route to the kitchen to put the kettle on, then to visit the wet room, I had to divert straight to the wet room in response to the motion about to come of its own accord from my rear end! I tore off the dressing gown and plopped down, just in time to avoid another embarrassment. Messy, very messy, but painless and only a few streaks of blood. Naturally, a fair bit of cleaning up was needed. While washing the cleaning cloths in the sink, I remembered to do the barrier-creaming. It went okay, apart from , they didn’t like this new cream at all, and they let me know in their usual way. (Arrgh!) I may revert to the Germoloids for the back-passage in future.

I made up one waste bag and placed it near the front door. I noticed a strong cooking aroma in the flat. I checked, but it wasn’t from my kitchen. It seemed to permeate the place for hours? When checking in the kitchenette, I took a snap of the fridge. But I can’t remember why I took it now. Ah, well! Then I snapped a terrible photo of the morning view. Definitely no signs of Venus or Pluto seeable this morning.

I made a double tea bag brew. Thompsom’d Irish Breakfast and Signature ones. Nice and tasty with just a little drop of semi-skinned milk.
I didn’t notice any rain yesterday, and the roads are dry this morning, but look at the end car park mud slide’s view! Might have in the night.

After the midday carer’s visit, I made a bottle of spring water and added some cordial and a smidgeon of pineapple and orange juice.

As I was working away on the blog. I suddenly felt a little peckish. I’ll mate some cobs of some sort, and I reckon I can manage a couple. I think I’ll have some microwave sausages on the cheesy cobs and put some tomato ketchup with bacon flavouring on the tasty-looking bread rolls. I added some pickled beetroots. And I had a pot of Lemon Fool to boot! I don’t think I cooled the sausages enough. But, it all eaten up anyway! Well, I ate most of it!

I’ve had permission from the genius who took these photos of three of his fabulous furries at Cheese Treat Time.
The above link has a sunset that I didn’t know how to link on the blog. It’s worth the trouble to take a look at. It really is brilliantly taken. In New Mexico. Thanks, Tim!

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TTFNski & all the best!

Shortarse Inchy: Tuesday 10th December 2024

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Monday, I was at my awfullest,
I’ve got to get t
his of my chest…
WordPress lost the blog I’d written best…
I’ve never been so depressed!
Lost the ode of 33 lines, 15 photos at least,
900 plus words, some of my bestest!
I felt in a world of complete solitariness,
Showing a degree of stoicalness,
I did the blog again; anger & shirtiness,
No time to medicate or ablutionise…
Though I felt some frustration & stress,
Matron Jackie, Nurse Rayon, God bless…

Getting the 2nd one done, I felt astucious,
At the same time very carnaptious!
At times, EQ & I got a little contrarious,
If I had been born in the Cretaceous…
Would I have been luckier, more gracious?
I got on and did it again ’cause I’m cretinous!
I now sense that I’m more extraneous,
But by doing it, I felt more eximious!

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A good 4-hours kip last night. Not enough, I know, but a darned sight better than Zilch. And welcome all the same.
I didn’t wake up until after 0600 hrs. I immediately realised the Asda order was due at 06> 0700 hrs. They could have been, but I couldn’t hear the intercom going off. I prayed it would not be another day like yesterday!
I wanted a wash, shave, and shower badly, and I didn’t have one in yesterday’s turmoil. But dare not wait until later; I didn’t want to miss the fodder coming. Mind you, if I had known what I learned after the delivery, I’d have been better off locking the door! I’ll talk more about this a little later.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and took this terrible photo to ask the Carer to identify the shade number on the NHS graph card. Hours later, when I got the images on CorelDraw, I found this one on the left of the SD card. With Gladys Glaucoma sending my vision hazy so often, it took me ages to identify what it was I’d taken a photo of and why I did. I did sort the waste bags out, and I think this was the bag emptied on the kitchenette door handle. That’s my guess!

The Asda order arrived shortly after I’d done the waste bags.
The regular driver came. He is a nice bloke who does not get agitated when I ask him to put the food into boxes and bags I keep for the job.
I put them into the hallway and cheerio’d the chappie as he left. 
Then, I photographed the fodder as I emptied things out of the bag and boxes. I was building up my stock of spring water and soda water so I could do without an order come Christmas week. Also, the toilet rolls and kitchen towel stock were boosted a bit. Well, a lot, really. I never know if it will be a Trotsky Terence or Constipation Conrad visit to the Porcelain Throne. I got the nurses, Wardens, and Carer’s drinkies and treats built up and ready for the festivities.
What festivities am I on about? I don’t know. It just slipped out. There is no chance. I certainly shall not be festivalling. I like that word! I’m also stocked up with black bean sauces, bicarbonate of soda and fresh air sprays. In case Trotsky Terence should make a comeback!
Lemon desserts, bacon, pretend fish sticks, and some Macron. Aha, you ask, what is Macron? It’s Italiano lamb, sliced and shaped to look like its streaky bacon does. Expensive. You can smell and taste the lamb. I’ve enough bread, mostly cobs and Milk roll loaf, to last until the new year. Or even longer!
The freezer is entirely crammed with them. Carer Chloe helped me get them all into the freezer on her second call! Whether I can open the draws to get at them later is questionable. Haha! 

Also, some microwave sausages. All of the rolls and baps have cheese in or on them.      

There was even more in the following box; I think I got carried away ordering this lot! Still, it should give me more time to get other things done. I’m trying to contact the Audio clinic to tell the m about my hearing aids not working. Try to get an appointment, then book a lift there and back with Easy Link. Then, I must arrange to get a cooker to replace the current one that died a death on me.  
I lost track a bit there, sorry.
I invested in a batch loaf, which the label claims has three cheeses baked. (Left)

While working away on this blog, & I took a snap of the view on offer from the kitchen window. No rain today, but it seems colder now.
I spotted the house in the snap on the left, with Christmas lights aglow. Fetched Kodak and returned to the kitchen, and they’d been turned off.

The District Nurse came again, bringing the medications from Carrington Pharmacy. They were both Barrier Creams. She showed me how to apply the cream and where to do it: on the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, the bloated colonies, under the man- breasts, on the top of the catheter leg, on the Acne and Eczema wherever they appear, and alongside the Germoloid to Harold’s Haemorrhoids. She stressed how important it is to do this twice a day. I insisted she take a nibble and a drinkie. Three more identical creams were delivered via the Post Office an hour later. Being looked after is rare but lovely!

I spent a few more hours on the blog and finally posted it.

Carer Christopher called, and I spent another hour on the computer before closing down. Then, for my meal of the day, I made three-cheese bread sarnies.
The bread with cheese was so gorgeous! So as not to waste the bread, I put half of it that I didn’t eat in a bag for Chris.
I was so tired I forgot to place the barrier cream on the various parts of my body. I had to force myself to get up again and apply the cream. Applying it to the two egg-shaped glands in the scrotum was the second most painful. Putting it on Little Inchies fungal lesion, as the nurse said it would be, required a delicate application. Impossible with Peripheral Neuropathy shaking and lack of sensation on the fingers and hand. I’ll take a look and see if I can see it in the morning. She told me not to put too much on to be sparse. All the other areas were easy peasy to do. I returned to the bed and got settled, wondering if I could get to sleep… Zzz! For 6 hours uninterrupted! 
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Hasta La Vista!

 

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.

Scratchy Inchy: Sunday 8th December 2024

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At the bayou, having mayhap a barbecue,
Or you may be out hunting deer or caribou?
Answering the taxman’s letter at your bureau,
On the Porcelain Throne, using the tissue?
With your beloved, about to bill and coo, 
Or just thinking, what’s the world coming to?
At the bar, having your 13th drinkypoo?
Watching a movie, The Battle of Waterloo?
Eating your takeaway curry with aloo?
Enroute to hospital after a blanscue?
Practicing fencing or jujitsu?
Just back from holidaying in Limpopo?
You could be shopping, waiting in a queue?
At the Zoo, looking at a sucuruju?
At a show, Hard Rock or burlesque?
Sorting out a medical snafu?
The 4-minute warning sounds… Woo-Woo-Woo!

What do you do? – Cause it’s due!
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Māori: A hill in Porangahau, New Zealand.
Name In English; ‘Music playing at the same time’.
The longest place name in the world.
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I woke around 03:00hrs, fell asleep and shot awake again at around 06:00hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the catheter day pouch. I emptied and wrapped the pouch up for disposal.
When I made these, I found I had an intense thirst. So, I made some bottles of spring water and flavoured them: orange and pineapple in different measures for the small bottles and lime juice for the larger ones.
When starting to sort the waste bags, I  needed the Porcelain Throne. I grabbed and we poddled off to the wet room.
Constipation Conrad was still in charge, but I felt less pain & it bled less. The two- and three-toned colours had gone. This visit, it was back to a light Kharki.

I washed as I insist on this thrice a week, even if not needed. Hehe! I put the compiled bag near the front door. And back to the blog.

I took this shot of the view from the kitchenette window when I went to check that I’d not left the hot water tap running. It doesn’t show, but it was raining. I returned to the computer and took a snap of the ancient clock diary thingamabob. It showed 0623hrs as the time. So, I misread read it earlier?

I struggled with the things I had got wrong and changed yesterday. Some of the corrections were wrong as well. So I had a go at sorting my own made mess. arrived, so I immediately knew I would be in a quagmire when I returned to the sorting after Shaquille had gone. I’d had a sort of pre-warning that depression & irritability were imminent for me to suffer. It was right, too!

Shaq was his usual calm, laid-back self. A nice lad. He got the medications sorted and issued. He put my diabetic socks on for me. It is much appreciated; it is blooming cold today. The lad left, and I returned to computer cock-up sorting…

I got into a chronological turmoil that left me just hoping things would come out right. I was lost, really. I had photos and graphics spread over three days of templates.
I thought at least three times that I’d got it right. But, No! I think I was more confused than when I first discovered them on yesterday’s blog. !
I gave up and hoped for the best. Which was good timing cause kicked off. Things would have been impossible to sort out if she had been in action during my rescue efforts for the blog. Not that I think they have been sorted. Maybe they have been made less noticeable, conceivably. Whichever and whatever, I started to update the Saturday blog at long last. Hello, I wondered what that noise was. The rain and wind are coming again, but it’s gone dark! I’ll try to take a photo of the rain coming into the balcony.

I went through the doors into the balcony, and the rainwater came above the boardwalk planks, and I now have two more wet socks, slippers and feet!
Double Humph!
I took a shot from the end window as I got soaked. I must say that the weather looked horrible out there.
The mudslide appeared to be mammoth-sized. The wind howled, and rain poured as if thrown at us by the Gods above! As the stagnant-standing rain reached my left slipper toes. I got back into the flat post-haste.

arrived to do the afternoon visit. She looked at the blog and laughed at my writings about the terrible day that I was having. Hehehe! Not really, she laughed with me, not at me ♥.

I continued to get the blogging/correcting advance. It took me hours to get Saturday’s blog titivated enough to post it off.

I gave up on the computer and got a meal sorted. Early to bed for me, the plan was to eat, then sleep – needed desperately. I think that I ought to have enjoyed this meal. But didn’t. I threw most of it away. I believe this is due to a sleep-stopping bug I must have caught. 
As for the rest of the day, your guess is as good as mine up to about 21:30hrs. I was feeling suddenly shattered. I realised in the morning that I had been working on Sunday’s blog and had gotten a lot done. Made a mess of most of it, thanks to the weariness and multiple and persistent .
 Carer Ali answered the teatime call and asked if I wanted him to call the doctor. The doctor? On a Sunday evening? It was nice of him to ask and recognise my state. Looking back, I recall struggling to find the words as we spoke. Sheer fatigue, and I’d done very little physical activity all day? All I wanted to do was sleep. Huh! After he’d gone, I lay precisely where I was on the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Carer Richard arrived as I was nearly nodding off. I chirped up a little after getting up and stubbing my toe. I was, I think, communicating better.
Within a few minutes, my tiredness returned, and I was back in the recliner. I c
ouldn’t get to sleep in the recliner, so I moved into the hospital bed. Then things got worse,  , and joined in, assisted with the odd sharp  interludes; this assured that it was another night of No-Sleep.
It was horrible, and I didn’t feel all that good on Monday morning (Now).
Poor old sausage.
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TTFNski
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