Lost Balance Barbara – Inchie Today

Inchy: Monday, 7th April 2025

LIBERTY-GLOBAL-OLIGARCHS?
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Let’s delve into the truth of ‘Hope’, clinically,
To see if it developed from ampullosity,
‘Hope’ to me seems somewhat bizarrerie,
Because finding it is hard for me…
I don’t act belligerently or truculently,
I’m a ditherer, I don’t act confidently,
My Carer say’s I’ve got too much benignity,
I think I’m shy, nervous and cowardly,
There I go off the subject again, you see?
I’ll try to concentrate more, hopefully…
‘Hope’, to me, seems to be, hypothetically,
A forlorn dream, with no reality…
I thought ‘Hope’ would help Inchy,
But I forgot about his mental instability,
His? I’m him! Another drift from verity,
I still want ‘Hope’ & help regardlessly,
Although I see the pointless futility,
Sometimes I consider ‘Hope’, frivolously,
The next time, maybe negatively,
Then back to frustration & hostility,
Yet I still try so desperately…
Then I go all unenthusiastically,
Depression falls, I turn apathetically…
A seizure, a giving way from Cartilage Chloe,
The coming arrival of complacently,
And I ‘Hope’ for ‘Hope’, pessimistically,
Body & mind acting chaotically,
Ménière’s Mini-seizures, increasingly,
I think I must not lose hope, glibly…
I even turned for help to quixotry!
As if to prove my eccentricity,
Or maybe that ought to be docility?
My physical ailments seem a triviality,
Finding ‘Hope’ & help, surely unrealistically,
The Lord made my life qualificatory…
A body and mind, deformed & queachy,
Doomed; never be happy or peachy,
I have had luck! But only quadrennially,
I acted rightly & astutely, well, in 1953,
I’m more hopeful for my sempiternity…
Not knowing where or when, for eternity,
Pray, please, no return ticket awaitingly!
If I find ‘Hope,’ will it also make me lucky?
Finding ‘Hope’, I try so persistently…
‘Hope’, is it mythical? It’s beyond me!
Why is it such a mystery to me?
Is ‘Hope’ biodegradable and sugar-free?
Why is it issued unequally, unfairly?
I can’t get any ‘Hope’, that’s a certainty,
No ‘Hope’ within by boundaries, locality,
I live in la-la land despondently…
And a part-reality, customarily,
Like others ‘Hope’ seeking, despondently,
I collect bills and demands; it’s called scripophily,
Carer Joe sorts them out for me weekly,
No offers of hope delivered to Inchy…
Finding ‘Hope’ may help propitiatingly,
‘Hope’ I get it before my necropsy!
Sorry about this Ode’s nugacity,
Call on me, & we’ll have a mug of tea,
Ice cream and/or chocolate biscuits…
I’d love a chinwag, mischievously!
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Got yesterday’s nosh photo to go on!
Well, I think it was.
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I didn’t rise until gone 0630hrs this morning. I’d had a long sleep again, broken, but not all that often. I reckon I got six hours in, and that was on the incommodious, uncomfortable, cumbrous, toe-curling, cringe-making, second or third-hand bought from the Oxfam Charity shop, Cathleen-Catheter-Tube-Crushing, hurtful for Harold’s Haemorrhoids, germ-ridden, horrendously grungy, uncomfortable, not-working recliner.
I felt a little perky when I got up and decided to clear the waste bins, etc. I
pictured & emptied the night bag. U6 rating.
Took a snap of the morning view out of the kitchenette window. I was hit by another of the odd seizures where I knew what was happening, but I was unsure why or what.

This was followed by general confusion and an almost total lack of concentration. I coughed, bringing up phlegm, and my voice went croaky. Walking, it was not easy to keep my balance.
Carer Ahman arrived. He showed concern and again wanted to phone for an ambulance. I disuaded the lad, telling him I was going to get in the bed as soon as he finished. I assured him I’d use the alarm wristlet if things didn’t improve after I’d had a kip. I’m sure we spoke of other things, but not what about? He put my diabetic socks on and gave me the medications. I got into bed while he was doing his report on his mobile phone. He also shut the curtains for me as the light in the room annoyed me for some reason. Ahman said I was not talking clearly but mumbling more; I think he said the same Sunday morning. I genuinely hope that this is not going to happen each morning. A third time, and I will have to press the alarm. I do not have the foggiest idea why this waking up and fading is happening. At least it didn’t last for long.

I bade him thanks and cheerio and settled in the bed, adjusting the settings to ensure I was not lying too flat. Comfort arrived. Yes, I did nod off for a short while. Waking up without any neck, shoulder, or leg jerkings. That in itself was nice! I was under the impression that I’d slept for a few hours because I was feeling so much better now. The wall clock told me I’d only slept for half an hour, but it did the trick.
I wasted no time in taking advantage. I went to take another kitchen window photo and used the speed mop to clean the disgustingly dirty kitchenette floor—I hope I’ve not left it sticky again. Then, I took another snap of the late morning view.

I spent ages trying to get the photos on the blog and got most of them on, but it took an aeon!

My beloved tree copse, looking thin still.
Close up of the battling for life leaves.
Even closer & higher, the crows
have not arrived yet?

Much to my amazement, Carer Joe arrived. It was already 13:25hrs! So, I assume that

Arithmaphobia Arnold had me fooled again. Maybe I’d had some non-epileptic seizures? I can’t remember having them.
Peptac issued, I was thinking of asking for a Codeine, but with Anne Gyna being minimal bother at that time, I didn’t want to give her an excuse to kick off with her mobile stabbing pains, which make breathing a little overheavy, painful & hard work.
The unsteadiness of my balance was lingering but slowly getting less frequent. The froggy-sounding voice remains, but none of the serious stuff.

I wondered if I’d gone into the kitchen with Kodak-Tim-2 to snap the incredible view while the floor was still wet. I went to check. Now I really was confused. It must have been many hours ago when I mopped it up; there is no chance it could still be wet. What a plonker! Still, I took another shot at the pathway I could no longer get into Woodthorpe Park. Spit!

However, now things were getting better, not the croaking voice. Anne Gyna had belatedly started greeting me with her roving pains and breathing botherations. However, my dizziness and balance had improved, and I found myself singing.

Great Balls of Fire! What’s going on here?
Where have I been? What was I doing?
It’s nearly 20:00hrs already!

The Carer will be here anytime now, over the next hour or so, and I’ve not had anything to eat or done the ablutions or medicalisations yet!
How can this be happening?

Skin on chips, a vegetable and no-meat meat pastie, pickled chestnuts & mushrooms, two wholemeal rolls to make chip butties out of, and salt & vinegar, pepper and Soya BBQ sauce. (A little too hot for me… anybody fancy a bottle?)

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Chow!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 25th March 2025.

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

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

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

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

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

The fridge.
The freezer.
The waters.

I took another kitchen window shot.

The day’s original Beloved Copse shot.

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

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

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

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

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

Inchy Today Monday 24th March 2025

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Oh, for a night’s sleep, to inveigle,
A full night’s sleep would be incredible,
Lack of sleep is so depressional…
Causes, multi-varied, the seizures aberration?
Steve’s Thought Storms, all choplogical,
Anne Gyna, having a resurrection?
Duodenal Donald, so damned painful,
Twitching Neck Nigel’s jerking motion,
Shaking Shaun with a misguggle.
Doreen Dementia being nepenthean,
Is the catheter malfunctional,
Arthur Itis, cartilages, fungal lesion,
Cognitive Impairment, to confuddle,
Back Pain Branda, nightmare confusion,
A Grizelda dream, feeling coital,
Mechanical aorta, piles, corporality,
EQ visits and being oblectational,
The usual imprecation & malediction,
Guilt, vilification, ankles inquination
Last night was more confusional…
No sleep, but no real reason…
Causing me aggravations,
Not any pain from my bunions,
None of the usual causes?
Do I need some detoxifications?
Why? What causes my sleep dysfunctions?
What are the justifications, & reasons?
What were or are the causes?
What’s ruining my nocturnal hibernations?
Maybe I’m having noctambulations?

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Rush job, it’s a devil trying to catch up with so many jobs to do. I assume the Carers & Social are arranging for the domestic and financial hep visits to be started, eventually.

A 7, I think, on the NHS scale.

The sun broke through.
But not for long.
Still, that means that Gladys Glaucoma will not be affected so much.

Clock-Calendar.

Slow, painful, & bloody.

The wound on Arthur Itis and Catheter Chloe is getting so much better already.

Unburnt lambburgers!
Georgous!

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CHEERS!
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Inchy (Unwell) Today: Friday 21st March 2025

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I’ve never seen an elephant or a zony,
A giraffe, or been to Hungary…
Or why we all live xenophobically,
I know if Starmer gets his way…
Pensioner’s food will be xerophagy!
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Oh, last night’s kip, seizure after seizure!
Accompanied with agony from Anne Gyna,
I was a nocturnal cougher & sneezer,
Sleepless, confused, unwell, a sad geezer,
So bad, I was prepared for my sepulchre!
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Hard to breathe, a cough and an atchoo!
My moving and thinking was so adagio,
What I was or needed to do, I didn’t know!
Nocturnal seizures, I’ve only had two…
Both were in bed. Is it a bugaboo?
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My brain & body needed to be examined,
At first, I felt really succussed,
The carer came, this was discussed,
He reported to HQ, well, he must…
They didn’t mention my psychosis,
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I said no help was needed,
Though I may have been deluded,
Then, the carer departed,
I became far less bothered,
So quickly, I suddenly breathed!
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My dizziness, & balance improved,
With Anne Gyna, I was not affected,
It took a minute to feel jubilated,
Gone, I was, no longer seizured,
Sadly, later, Anne Gyna feasted!
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ADMISSIONS
I’ve blundered, blabbed & believed,
Got angry, annoyed, been aggrieved,
Begloomed, begrimed & becharmed,
Shoplifted, got shot twice, was sacked,
In 1950, I was abducted,
By a neighbour, I was snatched…
I believe her name was Winifred,
A Welsh lady who took me to her bed,
Her groping, I found unmatched,
Her house I frequently frequented,
I didn’t realise what we practised,
But I was sorely satisfied!
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After each Nocturnal Seizure, clearing my head and senses was a long job. Balancing was a farce. Anne Gyna was playing ball with me. From getting up, it was a confusing and worrying 4 hours before the Carer arrived. The Carer rang his HQ to report my condition. Eyesight blurred, coughing and sneezing, phlegm coming up, dizzy, and most things that I was suffering from cannot be remembered. I think I was finding it a job to talk as well. At one stage, I spoke with a lady from the Carer organisation. Can’t recall what was said.
Once the Carer departed, my head slowly cleared, and my vision improved after taking the medication. I took an extra Codeine & Paracetamal.
I’ve got photos on the SD card that I cannot recall taking. Maybe the seizures continued with the mini-ones. The day flashed by. I didn’t start this ode until around 15:00hrs when I started the odes.
After this, I may need to give WP a rest.
After three nights of broken sleep, then last night’s nocturnal Seizures, I must try to get some sleep. I realise my thousands of fans will be disappointed, and I apologise to both of you. Hehe!
I’m so far behind it hurts!

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I NEED SLEEP!
Dear Lord, I won’t bellyache.
At best, my life’s been bittersweet,
I don’t mean to moan & bleat…
Three days under the bedsheet,
Mostly in pain and wideawake,
And not a moment’s sleep,
Anne Gyna & Sandra’s Seizures compete,
I pray you to hear me speak,
I don’t intend to offer critique,
Sleep: or ensure I don’t reawake.

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Well, it’s time to get summat to eat. I originally decided to have two lamburgers on cheesy-topped rolls. My taste buds tingled at the thought.
I couldn’t have made a proper meal anyway because I forgot to tell the carer not to put the nocturnal bag on yet. I could have made the meal without the dangers of using the walking stick and cooking simultaneously. I got the burgers in the oven; they should take 35 minutes to cook.
Then I returned to the computer and did the Ode To Sleep. Forgetting all about the burgers.
I got a whiff of the burning food!

So, I ate some Cheez-it crackers and nuts as sustenance for tonight.

Photos of the day. In order as taken, I think.
First one.
My beloved tree copse.

Cavendish Vale

CorelDraw problems again.

This might be out of sync timewise?

Green skies, as well.
I’m colour-blind on red/greens, so you
may not see the colour I do.
Protanopia: This is a severe form of
red-green colour blindness where
individuals are unable to perceive
red lights at all.
I looked this up on my NHS list.
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After the last two nights of sleeping in bed, the nocturnal seizure stopped any silly thoughts of sleeping. So, after burning my lamburgers, don’t think that this pissed me off and got me all angry and annoyed with myself. I wet back to using the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner, in hopes of nodding off.
Well, it was great! Five straight hours without interruption. Until and kicked off.
Five hours is more than I’ve had over the last three days.
No bother from , , or either of the Cartilages. !

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Flaunt a Fiesta Full of Funny Frivolity!
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Idiotic Inchy: Saturday 30th November 2024

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OF STARMERS NEW TORY, LABOUR HMG!
Double-dealing, Lies, and Hocuspocus!
No regrets about taking backhanders,
Or bankrupting for food producing farmers,
And killing off private-pensioned pensioners,
And this from the party that created the NHS?
I imagine OAPS voted Labour, I guess?
New ministers that are the schmooziest,
Starmer could make the UK problems terminal,
Earths end may go galactically, universally viral,
Would Earth’s survival be acceptable or tenable?
Watching aliens must think humankind terrible,
Out Oligarchs, politicians so ungainsayable,
Earth’s innocents are so slaughterable…
This is just part of our trouble,
It’s time for our rulers to burst their bubble…
Our future is, of course, underivable,
Earth’s poor are all unconsequential,
I pray to see the first promised Angel…
Who just may be sent to us from Hell…
I hope he brings a freebie for Starmer as well!
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Definitely a better kip last night. Although it took me so long to get to sleep, I reckon I was in bed for about eight hours, two of which were sleeping. But this is an improvement. I rose at about 04:20hrs, passed some wind, and the nocturnal catheter pouch was removed from the day pouch. A decent colour this time. Which, incidentally, should have been changed last Friday according to the date written on it, but things kept ensuring that I forgot to remind the carer about it. Sleep problems, seizures, Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the nose and Toothache Tiffany bleeding away. Yet somehow, I didn’t get caught up with the blog; the computer was dead set against me saving photos, and I had no heart to take many.

My BP was decent this morning after yesterday’s 2nd Hyper of the week. I amassed things needed to complete the ablutions and hibernated in the wet room to get on with the task. Again, the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. So again, I had no chance of taking a shower; I had a strip wash and couldn’t even clean my feet in the bowl as I shaved due to my inability, just like a three-year-old, to take off my socks. In times like this, depression and frustration can overtake me. But surprisingly, I kept my imitation pucker-up pretty well. The shave went wellish. Just one minuscule nick. A bit worried about not needing the Porcelain Throne again.
With no showering and no shi… Porcelain Throne activity, I was done and out within 1½hrs. Stupidly, I adopted a mild Smug Mode. When will I ever learn? I went into the main junk/recliner/computer/bedroom and tried to get my socks pulled off. I should have known better!
Dizzy Dennis, Loss-Balance-Barbara, and a little help from a short had me over! Inchy took another tumble! However, he redirected his route to the floor and lunched onto the bed! I pulled the quilts and dressing gown off the bed. But pleased he’d avoided any injuries… That’s not strictly correct. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which had just been cleaned and ointmentated, started bleeding. Which stained the fresh Protection pants he’d just struggled to get on. He now struggled to get off and replace them with another fresh pair after cleaning and creaming again! Noticing that the urine was now bloodied in the tube. Then I got the long picker-upperer to get the things from the floor and tidied up a little, not a lot! Hence, I had to frequently wash dry and Germoloid Little Inchies Haemorrhoids throughout the rest of the day.
At long last, I got on the computer to check and finish the templates. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but three hours later, I had completed them. Now, the depression and frustrations began to sink in. I then discovered that the few pictures I’d taken in the evening (currently 01:45 hrs Sunday) were taken with the SD card on the computer.

My spirit is destroyed. The only semi-highlight was the computer: it let me save a photo of the snack I had taken earlier and a shot that had just been taken.

Not a lot, but nice. This may be the wrong photo?Early Morning View.

Feeling really low now.

WHEREVER DID THE DAY GO?
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I found out on Monday that I had made an error in the meal photo. Fortunately, I also found out I had not yet (forgotten!) to post this blog. So I can rectify my singularly rare, not often-made mistake. (I’m lying well, aren’t I?)
Belatedly, my memory springs into action…
I enjoyed this one.

I wish that did not toy with and tease me so often, but with the previously classed as now becoming , there is plenty of scope for me to make even more mistakes in future comments. Oh, I haven’t mentioned the NHS letter yet! They are altering the Diabetic Course to a different Training course, which is being arranged for me. The Diabetes Type Two training is being changed to a Diabetic Dementia & Cognitive Decline course.
This could (I think) mean that I may have the possibility of if I read it right, Hippocampal Doreen Dementia, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, vascular Doreen Dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease Dementia, Lewy Body Dementia, Frontotemporal Dementia, Mixed Dementia, Traumatic Encephalopathy Dementia, Posterior Cortical Atrophy Dementia, or Primary Progressive Aphasia Dementia (Semantic or Logoepenic).

Telling me: “There’s a strong correlation between Alzheimer’s disease and high blood sugar levels. One study found that people with high blood sugar levels, such as those linked with Type 2 diabetes, “had a dramatic increase in beta-amyloid protein, one of the hallmark brain proteins of Alzheimer’s disease.” People in the early stages of Type 2 diabetes (Me) have signs of brain dysfunction. In fact, one study’s participants showed high levels of insulin resistance in the brain and a reduced ability to use glucose to fuel normal brain function. Individuals with Type 2 diabetes show accelerated cognitive decline, specifically in executive function and information-processing speed. The early effects of diabetes on the brain were related to levels of a blood protein called haemoglobin A1C (HbA1C). Researchers found that even people with diabetes for less than 10 years had deficits in memory function typically associated with a brain region called the hippocampus. They found that people with diabetes had smaller hippocampal sizes than people without diabetes. They also discovered the decreases in hippocampal size correlated to HbA1C blood levels, suggesting that HbA1C could indicate hippocampal-type function and/or the onset of memory loss. The gene for amyloid precursor protein (or APP, the “parent molecule of beta-amyloid) is known to be involved in some cases of Alzheimer’s. This gene also affects any insulin pathway. Disruption of the insulin pathway is a hallmark of
diabetes and research on the APP gene could lead to a therapeutic target for both diseases.

What to expect in early-stage Vascular Dementia. In early-stage vascular dementia, damage to the blood vessels or disruption of blood flow to the brain may already have occurred, yet symptoms may be relatively mild. ..
While memory loss is a common first sign of cognitive decline in those who are developing dementia, memory issues are often not the first sign of vascular dementia. Instead, those developing vascular dementia may experience confusion more often, issues with communication, and trouble making decisions, planning, or problem-solving.
Now they tell me! Hehe!
If, by any chance, a patient reading this was not too confused, they damn well are now after reading it! Haha!
So, back to school for me in the New Year!
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TTFN
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Ignored Inchy: Monday 25th November 2024

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ODE FROM INCHY
AWAITING THE RETURN OF LOGICALITY
Which I think will not return to me,
Another loss, just like my sanity,
Hoping for improvement shows my inanity,
I prayed pleadingly to the almighty,
I don’t think he heard Inchy, not with certainty,
Then I tried Lucifer to free me from demonry,
But I guess these pleas were more delusionary,
They were for sure rather confusionary…
Sometimes I feel near-contented, jaunty…
Usually, when Odeing, that to me is not petty,
For some reason, it is a lifegiving essentiality,
Even when the brain mangles my memory,
My computer bars graphics, & photography,
I hate violence, war and the Oligarchy,
I left the hot tap running; I did it twice today!
Suffer many bothersome mini-seizures daily,
With manifestations through my theopathy,
As one ages, words gain a new certainty…
I appreciate words, but not as easily…
Like, anonymity…obscurity, & uncertainty,
Invisibility, inscrutability, & anonymity,
Making decisions is complex, fuzzy, hazy,
Actioning finally taken often shows ethereality,
Making corrections, ridden with inner disunity,
Confusingly, words show a level of banality,
I have to treat specific memories sceptically…
Well, indeed, every memory or action doubtingly,
Look at the world, Putin, Starmer, Trumpery!
Complaining? Me? I’ve not got the temerity,
Although life can sometimes feel so tawdry,
It can be scaring, worrying, and depressingly,
Yet, at this moment, there’s a sign of glee…
I’ve beef in black bean sauce & a mug of tea!
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Reluctantly, I stirred at 02:50hrs.
Fell asleep at 0255hrs.
Unintentionally, I stirred at 03:10hrs.
Fell asleep at 03:15hrs.
Jumped awake at 03:30hrs.
Lat pondering on a dream I’d just had that was not clear enough to recall in detail, but Grizelda was in there somewhere; the pain from the so rare involuntary movement in Little Inchies locality assured me that Grizelda was the topic of the dream. I think it was a pleasant one.
Fell asleep at 0420hrs. Tried to find Grizelda in the ether again. No luck, of course.
I woke with a jump at 04:40hrs.
Fell asleep at 05:45hrs…
I woke again around 06:00hrs and realised I needed to complete the ablutions before a carer arrived.
I carefully dismounted the bed. Little Inchy’s temporary expansion had disappeared, leaving a small amount of blood coming from the catheter tube inserted.

Not for the fainthearted!
I stripped off and put the nightwear in the laundry bag. Got a fresh catheter pouch holder, the slippers, and fresh Protection Pants, etc, ready for after the shower & shave, and medicationing duties were finalised. Took them with me into the wet room.
The first thing was to get my bottom down on the WC. The evacuation was a tacky-sticky, messy one. I did the few teeth I have left, causing, I’m afraid, to kick off. Then, possibly the most farcical event of the day. Having a shave. An everyday event, but not for Inchy. A first-ever here! While shaving, I’m sure I went into a few seizures of over 20 minutes or so. As I had supposedly finished shaving and rinsing off the foam and blood, it dawned on me that I had shaved only half of the face and neck! It’s like I go on auto-pilot… but as with the computer, where I get the majority of the seizures. I keep doing things while ‘under the grip of (sometimes), and I come to semi-awareness to find I’ve made a mess of everything I’ve done. But this is the first time it has happened in the wet room. I assume, anyway. So I had to reshave again. Bringing up the total number of cuts and knicks to a count of five.
: The usual routine was carried out, but the Catheter netting bag was not attached; too much genuflecting is not suitable for and upsets Dizzy Dennis, Arthur Itis, Cartilage Chloe & Carol, Bad-Balance-Barbara, and can trigger Tumble-over- or Trip-over-Trevor.
, and . then rubbed in the Barrier Cream on Inchy’s-Bouncy-Belly, underneath the arms, on the forehead, lower arms and on the edges, and ,
and checked to make sure there were no more outbreaks of .

Then, I got the eyes and ears medicated. Next, I tackled the typically most painful medical sequences required daily. Little Inchies fungal cream applying!

This was the last job, as usual, in the wet room. Luckily, the pain does not bother me in the slightest bit. I just laugh it off and usually start singing a song or yodelling. Today, it was Frankie Vaughan’s Don’t Stop, Twist’… Argh!

was playing up again. Later, when I got on the computer, I gave the sparse teggies and gums a blast of £599.00 per 100 ml Toothache pain relief spray. Some effervescent paracetamols were added to the Bladder-demanding spring water bottles. I almost forgot to empty the nocturnal pouch. I then realised and stopped myself in time, as the Carer will need to confirm the colour with the NHS colour record chart/card. Carer Chloe arrived later and said it was a match with a classification of a seventh level. Ah, well!

SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME STARTS!
As Carer Richard arrived, so did Sandra. I have no idea if he noticed my condition, and my recollections remain confusing. That’s how bad Sandra’s first attack was. This time, it was not so mini-either. Richard was here for a while, making his last night shift call. Thankfully, the blurriness and confusion had cleared by the time he left. But she gave me many more mini-blanks over the next four or five hours. My beloved DVT Anticoagulation Warfarin nurse, Hristina, arrived. And she could tell the difference in my responses… even if I couldn’t.
My memories are still a little vague, but I’m sure she mentioned me talking to the Doctor about the seizures. Hristina is a lovely gal♥

My other friend, Jenny, called me. After she’d read about the Milk Roll loaf not being delivered, she arrived at the flat with a loaf of bread from her freezer for me. Another Gem! ♥

I struggled with the computer (I still am now, Tuesday p.m.), but despite getting further behind, I am determined to get the photos on the blog. It’s hard work!
Aha, got some from, not many, from earlier in the day.
Unfortunately, only these two above.

SANDRA’s MINI-SEIZURES SHOWTIME RESTARTS!
Little & often. I did give up then. I sat down and tried to get some sleep, catching up. Huh!

The Carer called; I was half asleep after waking up, yet somehow knew I was coming out of another seizure.
Carer Promise took the washing down for me.

Afternoon delights in the sky

Bootiful!

Plenty of vehicles in today.

The last shot was as the sun was on its way down.
Well, it wasn’t the last, but it was the last one the computer would let me save to file today.

TTFNsk!
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Elapsed Inchy: Sunday 17 November 2024

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Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer,
For stealing fuel help from every pensioner,
But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later…
Although it made OAPs £500 poorer…
It got the Unions complaining angrier,
It was businesses that gave him his backhanders!
An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard,
Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted?
Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted…
Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector!
Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember,
They’ll be in a home or alone, suffering from Dementia,
Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia,
Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia,
Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia,
Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia…
Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,

I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater,
A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler,
I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore!
A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
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A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine
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Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came,
I wanted to blame whatsitsname…
Or maybe even whatsaname,
I considered blaming whatshername…
But for each one, I was the one to blame.
First one, I was cleaning the windowpane…
Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain,
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame,
Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane!
Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again,
Then, I dropped my written username…
I tried bending down again…
Landed on my knees, agony more than pain!
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
But doing so was such a strain,
Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train,
The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again,
Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!

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I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things.
A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.

This morning’s efforts.

Is my urine going darker again?

Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.

Morning all.

Afternoon-teatime views.

It looked like some clouds were going to land.

Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box.
Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!

I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score!
I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water.
Hehehe!

I got an unintentional artistic wobble on.

TTFNski, each.

Affable Inchy: Sunday 6th October 2024

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ON THIS DAY IN 1960, INCHY STARTED A JOB AS A STREET GAS LAMP LIGHTER & SNUFFER IN NOTTINGHAM.
It is believed he made £1.10.0 a week, but he earned more than that from people asking him to hit their bedroom window with his pole to wake them up. We suspect the money was used for his other interests. See photo left.

As of this moment (15:35hrs), I’ve been clear of any Accifauxpas, serious Whoopsiedangleplops, and even free of Electric Shocking Sherida! But the day has brought some terrible back pains. I assume this was caused by my launching off of the stepladder. The painkillers and Phorpain Gel have been heavily used. But I know it could have been worse, and I might have ended up in the hospital… having meals fed me. Hahaha!
There has been little worth mentioning, apart from the short mini-seizure I had when the Carer was here. It won’t be in his log book, as he was leaving when I had it. He told me it lasted only a minute or so. But I’ve never had a seizure before when I was stood up. Always when I was lying or sitting down. Even CorelDraw has not crashed. I shouldn’t have said that! Silly Boy! Very few photos were taken. As usual, I struggled with the typing errors, spending more time correcting than perfecting. Humph!

Way too deep!

Nice late-morning shot.

Wet Room Duties.

First Carer called.

Left, ahead & to the right, kitchen window.

The early meal started with pots in the oven.

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While serving up the nosh.

I’m not sure if it was the food or me, but I was not armoured by the taste or flavour of this effort. Shame!

The lights were from the Goose Fair, about a mile away to the left of the window.

A different shade and colour?

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Keep Content, Be Happy & Cheers!
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Incontinent Inchy: Monday 22nd July 2024

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Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic!
The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!

I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut.
I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!

I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me.
As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what? I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.

Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out.
! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.

Between , supported by it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.

Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this. Frustration Frank visited.

Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.

Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!

If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven.
I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.
But the odds are it’ll be me!

Gorgeous clouds.

Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning. I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well!

I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.

Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it.
Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
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Cheers!

Hippo Inchy: Tues 2 July: Proceedured, hospital bedded, and nursed!

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A busy day. Urine was a better colour, though.
I practically fell getting out of the hospital bed. Everyone ran to help me up… within ten minutes.
I was prepped in the usual manner but less regularly than I have been in the past. The laughter in response to my jokes was a little depressing.
I was laid out for the procedure. Then, I returned to my prison cell… no, I meant flat, and I was put in my home hospital bed.
Told me not to do much walking until Friday, when the District Nurses will be calling to check the wound & full=compression bandaging. But the blog awaited my attention, so I went to the computer. Sorry that I did now. The Pain!
I’m afraid today’s blog is terribly short on content. Hope to feel a little better in the morning. I’ll mention what bits I can recall, but photographs are in short supply. This was mainly due to & .
The carers who called, I think, were Christopher, Kara and Christopher. The other hindrance was .

Only one today. Phew!

Picked up early to the procedure.

Lifted back, nurses arrived to put a different compression bandaging on the leg.

, although all mini ones were helping me get ever more confused. The Carers said nothing, but I knew.

Then the eyes grew worse, and I packed up computing, too much of a struggle with the eyes fading again. Going to get something to eat. Back in the morning, folks.

Good Morning!

I’m back, well, I think I am.
Now, where was I?
Oh, yes, getting the food prepared. And on this occasion, devouring it all!
This is a ready-made, just-warm-it-up job: pulled BBQ pork and potato mash. I shelled some pod peas to eat raw with it, baked a potato, halved it, and lathered it in Flora’s creamy alternative to dairy, Non-Butter butter. It’s a wonderfully tasty meal.

Nodded off to sleep, waiting for the football match to start. And Carer Christopher arrived. I just love that yellow Bob-Cap of his.
We did his health checks, and he did them himself. I’m becoming redundant here! Haha!
Christopher’s BP result was a good one. Slightly Raised.
Only just a tiny bit out of the green section. No Worry.
The Austria v Türkiye match had everything in it: rain storms, sweat, determination, action, and a result that I could live with; a Türkiye win!
The Türkiye team had put in such effort that most men collapsed when the final whistle sounded. Boy, did they deserve it, too!
Carer Christopher arrived on his last call. He medicated me and shot off home. I couldn’t blame him!

No getting in the bed tonight. The pains of the day had worn me out. I fell asleep with the TV still on, and only woke up a few times when shot up my leg from the ankle wound. I soon nodded off again after each rude awakening.
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Cheers!