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SATURDAY 10th OCTOBER 2026
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Sorry, but today was even more nightmarish than the last few days. I was told my favourite biscuits were arriving, so I did nothing for a two-hour delivery window. I waited in the foyer for the delivery. As the intercom wasn’t working, I feared I’d miss them, or they would leave them downstairs in the foyer. I hoped they would arrive earlier rather than later. However, while waiting, I met some folk I hadn’t seen in many months. Had a natter with Cynthia, and she kept watch while I nipped up to empty my Catheter pouch and double-check I’d got the timing right. Bless her. I saw the van pull up outside and got ready to dismount the chair I’d settled into… and the driver swiped it with his own swipe? Checked the flat number & name, and he carried the boxes up to the flat for me. The computer was occasionally doing its own thing. Several times, dizziness incapacitated me for long periods. Not sure what the cause was.
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Jenny called and emailed, pointing out that I hadn’t completed the template message to the Carers asking certain Carers to service me. She also pointed out that my landline was giving her inaccessible messages.
I just did not get a chance to do either.
With two sleepless nights this week, my loss of concentration, confusion and tiredness took over.
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Falling asleep on the Porcelain Throne cost me I don’t know how long; but I’d boiled the kettle for a brew before diverting to the loo… and the water and kettle were actually cold when I got back to make the tea.
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Computer foibles continued.
The Catheter not filling, fur in the tube.
I’ve never felt so confused. Worst day ever for this.
I’m often doing, or even saying or thinking something and at any break, diversion, or change of subject, and I forget what I was doing or saying, let alone what the other person was saying, face-to-face, even on the phone. Which is most annoying and embarrassing.
When I’m alone, I constantly talk to myself out loud.
Mostly, self-aimed curse words and lambasting.
A perfect example of self-annoyance today, tragically a very common scenario for me lately: getting to the toilet too late and having unintended escapages. I cannot explain how angry this makes me. I know what may happen, but say I’m typing something (Ie: making up the Email to the Carers), and feel the motion coming on, yet still have to finish the paragraph in fear of forgetting what I was going to put. And knowing the possible result this delay may incur, I still do it! Today I forgot I was even on Email when I got back after cleaning up the mess I made. The bending gives me a backache and dizziness. So why in Hell do I do it? But I do. I don’t know.
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I wrote the above in the hope that someone who can help will read this. When the Alzheimer volunteer visits, they may be able to help me cope with these failures. I’m trying to understand & accept the inevitable myself.
It’s not easy, naturally. I feel so much for the poor souls in a similar but more advanced stage. I imagine they went through this sort of semi-awareness and suffered the anguish of knowing what is to come. 🙏🏻💗
Enough of my moaning, sorry. A few snaps taken.
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Delivery window
Driver carried the extremely large parcels up to the flat for me, dropped them in the doorway, & shot off.
A Busy lad.
The boxes were both crushed
I feared broken biscuits… But no!
Despite holes in the outer box, the
biscuits seemed okay. It was the
amazing inner box protection used
that saved the day; well done to
whoever packed them up!
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Later than usual nosh
No butter, buttered milk-roll bread,
yellow & red tomatoes, beetroot,
Strong soft French cheese, four
min pickle-topped pork pies, &
Overcooked battered chicken.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
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Lymphorrhea Leslie
Inchie Today: Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Sorry, only did bits on Thursday.
Alzheimers effects; very bad new trends. Coccyx, District Nurses, Toothache Tiffany, Bladder bloated, new floaters. Leg shakes. Then,
agony from blocked Catheter.
Oxycodone painkillers; no effect!
So far behind; no time to catch up.
Pain; warping my poor Brain
Not that it wasn’t warped before.
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Midday clouds,
As I turned away from the window, I fell…
My right leg suddenly shook; I had a tumble,
My right knee wound started bleeding…
The door chime started ringing…
I shouted as loud as I could, “Come in”!
The postman did, & began my rescuing…
So, no need for the panic-button pressing!
Thus avoided any hospitalisationing!
I foolishy my luck was improving!
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Caer Prem made the late call; he is now part of my chosen elite band of the Carers. Ejaz, Mirza, now Prem.
I explained why I had no time to get my feet and lower legs done, and why I couldn’t have an assisted shower again (it must be eight weeks since). He said he would do it tomorrow night, but the lad would never have the time on a late call, and he got the bowl and washed my feet for me. He had to rush off after that for his last call of the day. Still found time to do safety checks and warn me about the oven being on, as with the days’ keruffe, I was late eating. I know I took a snap of the food tray… certain, positive! But it disappeared from the SD card. Yet I found one on it that of didn’t remember taking. What was the new classification given to me last week?
Alzheimer’s with LBD & Vascular Dementia? Yes!
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Evening All!
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= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Friday 9th October 2026
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Unfortunately, I didn’t. I did learn how to cope with more pain than I’ve ever had from the Catheter Contraption. Mostly teeth-gritting, accompanied by the use of some innovational, demiurgic, quirky, bizarre language, combined with a pathetic adoption of singularly bizarre self-pity.
It worked to a degree for the first blockage, but the second one beat me hands down. On self-lambasting, I did not skimp – But I did feel a right whimp!
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Spelling mistake? Me? Yes!
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0615hrs: I woke with a fair bit of pain coming from the bladder area of my stomach. Flowback pains! I grabbed the torch to check the nocturnal pouch on the floor near the bed. No night bag has ever had less urine than this one. Later, I identified the contents as 90ml!
The pains were slowly getting worse, especially when I mountaineered from the bed and tried to do the balance routine. I was dizzy the moment I stood up. I retrieved the pouch and wanted to ring the District Nurses straight away, but lost concentration because I needed the Porcelain Throne. As I hobbled carefully through the doorway to the toilet, I knocked a pair of washed trousers off a coat hanger and bent down to pick them up.
A big mistake that! Instead of picking them up, I joined them on the floor! Unbelievable! (well, not to me), Best I recall, the urine flowed from the penile fungal lesions; I hit my head against the door frame, trying to get into as painless a position as possible, to crawl to the recliner and try to get up on my feet again. It might have been morning, but it felt like was nightmare. The pain I put myself through getting onto my knees, and I fought through the pain and got myself onto the recliner. The knee wound was knocked in the battle; blood poured. I stayed there a few minutes, in such discomfort, and waited for the pain to ease. Which they did.
Why did I not just press the alarm-alert button on my wristlet? I’ll tell you the truth… Fear! The thought of going to hospital yet again! Which was enough to make me fight on. Thinking it is likely that I’ll still end up there to get the Catheter sorted… that place is like a torture chamber nowadays with cruel, fed-up, uncaring guards, formerly known as nurses, especially in the Urology Wards. Each of the five visits I’ve been forced to make has a constant sound of wailing, sobbing, screaming, pain-ridden patients ringing around. I could hear them while I was in the corridors waiting to be seen. Finally, I started to clean up the messes I’d made and changed plans again: get 
back to the WC sharply. During the battle to get the product moving, urine squirted out of the mini-holes in the fungal lesions. Had to put on a second pair of protection pants. I’d only just put the others on. Should I snuff it with a stroke or whatever, I wouldn’t complain. My EQ belatedly said worse was coming. Depressed? In Pain? Me?
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Carer Edward arrived as I was painfully finishing of the mess cleaning. After he gave me the medications, I asked him to ring the District Nurses. Thankfully, they would send someone to look at things. I took a morphine (Oxycodone) painkiller and a Codeine. The pain was slowly turning into agony now. After Edward merrily departed, I had to keep busy, concentrate on whatever I was doing to try to take my mind off of the excruciating pain. Something active, not computer work.
I took two snaps from the kitchen window.
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Middle field & Tree Copse
Houses opposite
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Tidied and hoovered the hallway.
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Then made up some spring and Soda water bottles.
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The nurse arrived. Rebecca, I think. A lot of things went through my head… which, normally, I just can’t keep in my head nowadays. As I recall:
1) I hoped that Becky could get the tube back in…
2) I prayed that I would not have to go to the hospital. I’d sooner go to prison.
3) I pondered whether the computer man might arrive… Silly me! Hahaha!
4) The Alzheimer’s voluntary supporter may come.
5) The Social lady, Sahra, would?
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The nurse soon had me on the bed. (Ah, memories) And put the painkiller in, then removed the tube. I think she said she would order the Catheter contraption supplies needed, then let me know the correct place to contact, email & telephone number. The new pouch filled very quickly. She emptied it and recorded the amount and colour for me. 💗
Then the big issue: getting the new tube in! She told me to take a deep breath, as she got the tube on her first effort. The pain sidipatung is a wonderful experience! I became a little like the old me, the comedian, the happy old chap. It was just great!
I was full of the joys of spring-like.
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Ejaz arrived for a long call; they’d moved it from Saturday to Friday. The lad earned his dosh today, as always. Bless him. He took the laundry down first, then we talked about the appointments we needed to make. He made me a brew of Glengettie; he always remembers how I like it, too. Then he rang the audio Clinic, to book an appointment to have both of them mended/sorted.
Confirmed by text for 12:00hrs on Tuesday 29th October. It took him ages, and he left a little late.
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I was still unaware of the time and was working on this blog. And felt the warm urine as it dripped onto my sock and slipper. The connector on the Catheter had fallen out! What a mess! I couldn’t get my socks off, and the late Carer didn’t remove them. The intercom doesn’t work every time. I had to use the pickeripper, to get a carrier bag over my left foot.
How much more can I take?
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I searched through the Carer’s medications on their desk and took another Oxycodone. Now I’m in a pickle!
Another night without any sleep, second time this week!
I dare not, for fear of the Catheter falling out again.
The bag has just stopped collecting urine, again. The flowback pain is mounting.
Now 0250hrs. What can I do?
It looks like the hospital…
ARRGH!
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I keep guzzling water, hoping of get the wee flowing.
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I’ll press on until I’m forced to get a taxi to hospital A&E.
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Ah, I’m getting a few drops of almost red urine dripping into the pouch occasionally. The pain is lessened a bit.
What’s going on? Did the connector dropping off cause this? Ah, I forgot to tell you about the toe-clipping gal; she came and cut them. Paid the £35. What a terrible day, and then a horrible sleepless night.
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I still can’t get any sleep, for fear of missing the morning’s food delivery and the extra water to drink. And of course, the intercom isn’t working again. All part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court. With its spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, and spirits. The damned seizures, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity. My faith, sanity, and logic were already waning. Worst of all, this damned non-working Catheter contraption. No sleep for two nights this week.
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I met a chap today; he visited the flat, you see,
He had, or was a BCA, MRA, LLM & LLB,
Plus a Law Master’s Degree,
Why did he come to see me?
Importantly, who was he?
Take a guess; it’s all for free!
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There is a chance, cause the bladder is now hurting me, I’ll be on a journey to the QMC,
To go through utter agony…
At the A&E, or urology,
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That’s it from me!
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 7th October 2026
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WEDNESDAY 7th OCTOBER 2026
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Behold, a rare snap of Inchie, smiling.
Revealing his rotting and rotted teeth. A little like humankind’s future, really?
Politicians, Oligarchs, greed, wars, deceit, along with the final end bringing a banal, unbelievable venture. AI; As Private Fraser said, “We’re All Doomed!” Hehehe!
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0640hrs: Nice to wake up with so few ailments getting at me. I rose up on my feet, tattered a moment and did the balance routine. I felt semi-perky. No urge to use the 
toilet; strange for me. I hobbled off into the kitchenette and took this poor snap of the view on offer from the window. Then, I planned and prepped the afternoon nibble. A pot of noodles.
I mused over whether I should add anything to the pot. I decided I would.
The kettle boiled, and I made the worst mug of tea I have ever made in my life.
I opted for soy sauce, and I cut up some mushrooms to go in the slow-cooker, and in came the Carer. Medications, heat gel on the shoulders and back. Quick body 
check carried out. He departed. I got back to slicing the mushrooms. I can add these to the noodles. Put a put of seasoning next to the pot, so I didn’t forget.
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Started updating yesterday’s post.
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02:40hrs: THURSDAY 8th: I started typing this. I had a pot noodle and some bread (Forgot the mushroom in the pan). Went to wash the pots at 13:30 hrs; suddenly, I felt terrible. Hard to say what happened, but it felt like my body was begging my brain for sleep, but was refused permission. I hadn’t passed anything from the rear end, or even felt like it was needed; dizzy, stomach visibly bloated, Prem mentioned this when he called. Floaters in the eye; went potty. Stopped everything and sat down, convinced I was going to fall asleep instantly. 1600hrs: Carer Andrew arrived. I was still in the chair, trying and failing to sleep.
I think he gave me the medications; I stayed in the chair, scared to try & get up when he arrived. Asked him to get me some fresh bottled water; I had no idea what medicines I was given or what else happened at this stage. I did not leave the seat.
20:00hrs: Carer Prem arrived. Still no sleep.
We found 6 empty crisp packets in the bin, and I had acidic reflux and was certain I must have had several seizures as I tried to sleep. Prem asked if he should ring for an ambulance (I think). After a few minutes, Prem got me another bottle of spring water from the fridge. Codeine and paracetamol were given. Then, although he was on a short visit, he helped me try to get up, which initially had me all over and off balance. It settled a little later, though I didn’t spend much time; I was passing a lot of wind. I got two sticks and tried walking about, but I didn’t feel very confident. For some reason, the right knee bruise was so painful, and I got cramps all over various parts at the same time. The right leg was shaking. Carer Prem helped me back into the chair, changed the night pouch, and checked the body as best he could. TV on, but it did not work; no sleep as such
01:30hrs: I finally got some sleep. But every time I dropped off, I had a nightmare. Bad ones every time. So many of them… well, it seemed. A Carer was in the last one; we were in school together, frustrations all the way, as other things from the past came into it… I think. At the end of the school dream, I burst awake and gave up and gingerly got up. My balance was still dodgy. No call to the Porcelain Throne yet, and I had three close calls that nearly caused a tumble.
So, I got on the computer to do this much-delayed catching up on this blog.
I feel out-of-it, but I reckon it’s a bit better than earlier. I just typed this, and a sharp, long-lasting stomach ache developed. Nervous about trying to walk again, I pressed on with this blog from the comparative safety of the computer chair. Still wanting sleep, but not brave enough to try again yet. Those dreams were horrendous.
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After recording the above, I checked the camera SD card to see if I’d got any unused snaps. My recollections must have missed many things. Seeing three snaps 2 that I could not recall brought back a memory & guess.
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Think this might have
been taken by Carer
Andrew.
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This might be the cause of my
stomach ache, possibly
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Carer Prems artwork,
before he put on
the Catheter’s
nocturnal pouch.
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Then, starting to feel a little better, I decided to take Thursday’s health checks to see how they were in relation to my stomach and loss of balance, & poorlyness.
Surprisingly close to Wednesday’s readings for SYS & DIA. The temp and bloods were low. I was expected the reverse pattern: with bloods and temp to be higher.
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The innards and balance are still pretty bad, although less so than three hours ago.
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Inchy: Thursday 1st October 2026
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THURSDAY 1st OCTOBER 2026
Real quickie today, I’m not catching up and not stopping trying, but failing is the word.
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Morning Views…
About as bright as I feel. Tsk!
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More emails, texts and letters!
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Believe it or not, I forgot where I put the new cleaning things again. When Carer Prem came on the late call, he did larf… and showed me where they were.
I am a fool, an excellent one, I think.
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Evening Dawns
Then…
CorelDraw froze yet again.
All off, crossed my fingers.
All on, seems to be working.
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Gave up and made an early meal.
Where to picture of the nosh, and
Early evening view got to…
I do not know!
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Super sunset snaps, I reckon.
Considered Smug-Mode.
Went into Smug-Mode.
Super-Smug-Mode.
Finished washing the pots,
dropping a saucepan, spoon
and fork, and bashed my
right knee against the hot
oven door while it was hot.
Photos to follow, if they do
not magically disappear
from the SD card again.
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A late-hour snap of the kitchen view.
Earlier Smug-Mode Deleted!
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Inchie: Wednesday, 30th September 2026
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I am not going (I’ll do my best) to mention the disastrous events of today: painful, frustrating, annoying, handicapping, anger-making, furiously busy, repetitive things that happened after this introductory paragraph.
And keep what I do moan about to a minimum.
Different departments of the Alhziemers organisation rang about new issues and to confirm the old ones arranged yesterday. They seem aware of my memory problems, and sound like they want to help. Smashing! Thanking them very much. The Deep Vein Thrombosis, Prostate Progress and then Bladder cancer rang, one sending a letter with confusing links for me to register on the web. The sweet District Nurses visited to check on the leg wounds. The intercom played up again, but only two trips down were needed, one a mystery. The only visit to the Porcelain Throne was a repetition of Tuesdays, but took a lot longer to painfully evacuate, with much more bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I got my meal cooking at 01:30hrs. I’d been on the computer so long trying to catch up, but still had no time to answer the comments or read the WP Reader. I do apologise, and will stay up late again tonight (Thursday) to make some progress. If I don’t fall asleep. I do love reading other folks’ blogs and commenting on them; but it’s been that long since the run of medical appointments and communications started. At least I’ve had the left eye de-cataract, but the right one is much worse… or it seems so now. A Carer confrontation didn’t help. I’ll not go into that.
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Mud Gorning
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I knew I’d put the new cloths somewhere.
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Super skies, later on.
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Night Pouch Bursting.
Contrails? RAF training?
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23:30: Got potatoes cooking,
in the oven. I added the three
part-baked bread rolls, 15
minutes later so they would
be cooked at the same time.
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Got the rolls out from the oven,
and generously slapped endless,
no butter- butter on each piece
after slicing them.
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BBQ sauce on the spuds, and
over the rolls, opening and
cutting my finger again, on
the ring pull opener of the
BBQ Mackerel fillets; the butter
ran all over the tray, Slurp!
Boy, did I enjoy this meal!
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Found this old photo in the Kodak
hidden in the inner memory…
The file told me it was taken
in 1922, and… No, no, no! Taken
in February 2022.
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At last, I found the SD card I’d lost
of the sunset taken earlier.
Impressive for me! I thought.
Do you think these are contrails?
A lot of RAF flights today?
of the sunset.
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Annuva Nasty Day
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All The Best! Have a Grand Day!
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Inchie: Sunday 27th September 2026
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Woke at about 07:20hrs. Lay there assessing the ailment’s situation; result: Worst: angina. 2nd: shared twixt sciatica & the back pains. 3rd: Toothache!
Didn’t have time to feel sorry for myself, as Carer arrived to encourage me to bear the pain and ease my elephantine body from the recliner. Where I’d fallen asleep, but not until late in the morning, and no sooner got up and regained my balance, had I to hobble hastily to the Porcelain Throne. Utterly convinced another tsunami was on the way. I was totally wrong.
I took a c
hunk out of the Carer’s time to urge the painful, constipated evacuation to get a move on. Then, in my haste to get back to the Carer, I took a snap of 
the dark gap to see if anything I needed medically had been knocked off amongst several items off of the back of the floor cabinet. The snap revealed very little identifiable. I got back to the Carer, who got the diabetic socks on, medications issued; PKs taken, being one morphine & one codeine. And a heat pad put on the back.
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Porcelain two attended to; harder than ever!
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Computer on, did the health checks, recorded them, and checked the notes for starting this job on this blog. Oh, I found the mobile: 11 texts and nine missed calls.
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Realised I’d not done yesterday’s blog, and got back on track… did I say back on track? Really, I went more off than on. I kept reading the notes I’d sent off, repeatedly doing things I realised I’d not done yet. I was all over the place, but seemed happy enough doing these things. Sorted the bins, hand-washed some socks, made up a water bottle, made a mug of Glengettie and left it to brew, forgetting all about it. Fitted a third and final visit to the Porcelain Throne in, Rock hard again. My 
Haemorrhoids were bleeding. I put some potatoes in the crock-pot slow-cooker, on a low setting.
Unknowingly, I’d dipped the sleeve of my dressing gown in the soya and water. I wasn’t too much bothered; I didn’t swear or curse or feel sorry for myself… not even when I scalded a finger. 
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After dropping the spoon, pot lid and banging my head against the open cupboard door, I went off track again. I decided that cooking, even the basics, was too dangerous a job for me. I decided (yes, it’s a rarity, but there you are) to order some Parsley Box ready meals. I stopped long ago, as they are not the best of meals; but I can heat them in the microwave relatively accident-free. I went on their site, and there was a special offer: two free meals and soups. Made up the order, went to pay, and to get the special freebies, I needed to spend another £15! and rather foolishly, I did. Clot of the first order, here!
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During the day, I lost my mobile again, my camera, and my remote control. I found the camera and realised I may not have enough ready cash to pay for taxis to and from the hospital tomorrow. This called for a concentrated search 
through my flat and coat pockets to gather all the coins and notes I could find.
I took a snap of the room I searched with the newly found camera, but I did a poor job of it.
Then took a shot with the flash on.
That was slightly better, but not good, shame.
So, I tried taking a couple of photographs from the 
kitchenette window, the first one of the car park below. All spaces filled. Then I managed to drop the camera with ease. Agonised, and a few words of self-criticising nature w
ere passed. Then I took a snap of my once-visited daily precious tree copse. Which was a mistake, cause it evoked a little self-pity and resentment in me, cause, I am no longer able or capable of making my daily hobble through it. I loved doing this.
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Off to the wetroom for a shave, teggie-cleaning and good scrub-up, and medicationalisationing areas, that are not to painful or dizzy creating to reach.
No cuts while shaving, but I did drop the razor twice. Freshened up with aftershave and body spray. Got barrier cream on a tissue, lifted up my mammoth flabby stomach, and applied the cream. Then around the genitals. Then applied the haemorrhoid cream to the piles.
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As I left to prepare the meal, I suddenly felt weary, all-in. But feeling hungry, I pressed on. Unbelievable, the amount of things I dropped, lost, or couldn’t find. I genuinely thought I was going bonkers… And still feeling so tired… Settling to eat the meal was its usual farce. I put the tray on the chair. Got my feet on the chair, the tray on my knee and feet up on the chair. No relaxing, though; I realised I had not yet found the remote to put the TV on. Feet down, tray back on the chair, and searched for the remote – I did find the torch, but not the remote. Then I dropped the remote as I sat on it and turned the TV on… that made me jump, hehe!
I almost started eating the meal, but I remembered I had not put the nocturnal pouch on the Catheter. Feet down, tray back on the chair, and fetched a light bag, attached it, and realised I’d got the wrong spectacles on, so while I was up, I swapped them so I could see the TV.
Settling to eat the meal, yet again, I put the tray on the chair. Got my feet on the chair, the tray on my knee and feet up on the chair.
By which time, the meal had dried out. Did not look the slightest bit appealing, and I’d lost my appetite.
Three-quarters went into the bin. Got up and washed the pots. Returned with a lemon-curd yoghourt, went back to get a spoon, back to the recliner. I got my feet on the chair, quilt over the legs, night pouch on the floor, and watched some lower league football matches I’d recorded yesterday. Then I turned off the TV and waited for sleep to arrive, hoping to get an early start in the morning.
To feel more up to preparing, dressing, and getting ready for the taxi to the hospital for cataract surgery. Fell asleep 6 hours later. Humph!
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Inchie: Saturday 26th Sept 26
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YESTERDAY – ONE: Calamity!
The Catheter Blocked!
The bladder pained…
Agony was confirmed,
Hospital trip, anticipated,
Frustrations were expected,
Fear of this was identified,
From my penile lesion, urine flowed,
On my clothes, body, carpet it sprayed,
Daren’t say how bad it smelled,
My mobile was disconnected…
I’d weed on it; I suspected,
My recliner got properly soaked,
Later, clothes will need to be laundered,
Landline used, hearing aids not mended,
Summoned District Nurses, then waited,
Took some Morphine, lesion medicated,
More urine involuntarily jettisoned,
Towels used, my leak was barricaded,
Two nurses came, problem was mended,
Fears of a hospital trip were suspended,
I know I am hexed, unlucky, jinxed…
Bless them both, for getting things fixed!
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YESTERDAY – TWO: Calamity!
Last night, the late Carer helped me prepare my meal of the day before he left. I
finished it and served it up. Thinking something along the lines of “I’m going to enjoy this”… But I certainly didn’t. I think the Catheter blocking, or angina attacking, must have affected my taste buds… maybe. Even the faux fish sticks tasted off to me. Well in date, too. The cheese twist tasted so dry. I’d undercooked the potatoes. Tsk! The tomatoes were okay. Oh, and I put the wrong sauce in the side pot.
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After about a 6-hour kip, in fragments, I woke up in pain in my back, and angina lingered on a while longer. Then checked the Nocturnal Catheter bag to see how much urine had flowed. 700 ml might not seem like a lot, but I was just glad my bladder and the Catheter contraptions were all still working.
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I carried out the health checks and popped to the Porcelain Throne for a marathon evacuation session. The day pouch was slowly filling up, so when I got back to the computer, I began drinking more water than usual to encourage the bladder to keep flowing, slowly.
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I spied the moon out of the kitchen; I’m not good nowadays at holding the camera steady, but I resolved to take a clear shot of it; or I’ll eat my hat…
Oh, ‘eckithump!’
The first two efforts were, at best, rather pathetic.
So, I gave up and got the kettle on to make a brew
of Glengettie tea. Then shame came over me, and I tried a longer shot of the morning’s sky and moon.
Didn’t do a very good job of that either. Did I? Tsk!
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Anyone know where I put my Andy Cap, please?
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Carer arrived and gave me my medications. Put on my diabetic socks and applied cream to my neck, shoulders, and back. I was surprised when the bladder kicked off, angina and my back all at the same time. Since I’ve been on the Morphine, I’ve never had to take the permitted dosage of four in one day. I got up to three today.
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Things didn’t help when a medical delivery driver rang the intercom, and t would not let me open the door. I waited a while; I was answering an email from Jenny when the intercom rang.
I went down to see if the driver had left it in the outer foyer or ground floor lobby. I couldn’t see anything. I came back up to see if it had come up while I was on my way down. But no. Then I got a text message telling me it had been delivered safely. As I was getting ready to go down again, I got a second email saying the parcel had been delivered. I went down and checked around; no sign of it, and Jenny came down to the lobby to help, bless her. Later, when a Carer was here, the door chime rang. It seems the driver handed the box to a tenant, and he brought it up for me. Oh, when I went back up a second time, I found a letter on the floor; I still can’t find where I put it. I’ll ask the Carer to search for it in the morning.
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Gawd, the pain today, but the flow increased to the pouch until 17:00; now it’s slowed right down again. When it was running nicely, I took a snap of the urine in the jug. There was some of the cotton-woolly stuff in it again. I assume it must be part of the prostate, and this is why the Doctor stopped the Finasteride tablets, which were to reduce it, to allow things to flow more easily.
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Sunset Snaps…
Better efforts this time…
Clear sky…
Bootiful!
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Kitchen Window Shots
This morning, I think
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Inchie: Wednesday 23rd Sept 26 – Psychotherapist Day… Well…
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I’d been waking up so often during the night, fretting over 
something going wrong or forgetting to take something to the meeting with the psychiatrist later on. At 0620, I decided to get up and start gathering and checking things for the trip. Not a good start…
A 
. As I climbed cautiously out of bed, my back started giving me some grief, so I got on my feet and stood up to ease the discomfort. I may have eaten something after getting into bed last night. Because I trod on a fork on the floor. Naturally, I just laughed it off.
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When I’d finished cursing, I got a heat pad stuck on my back, and pondered over things needing doing for the visit to the hospital. I thought it a good idea to put the lists Jenny had kindly checked and printed for me into the three-wheeled walker, so I wouldn’t forget later.
Stubbing my ingrown toenail on the wheel of the trolley, I again laughed it off. 
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Carer Andrew arrived; he put some cream on my back and… remembered to put my diabetic socks on. On me, I meant. Hahaha! Medications given, got on his mobile and then off he shot without any ceremony.
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Then I went to the wet room, spending the longest I have ever spent evacuating the almost-water product.
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I did what I could, but time was running out as I waited for the Carer, and luckily the nurse came earlier than planned, and she checked the leg wound, gave them the okay, and hastily got me dressed. Bless her
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Carer Ejaz arrived and rang a taxi; we were soon on our way to the Highbury hospital meeting. The driver took the wrong route and dropped us off in the wrong place. We went inside; Ejaz asked for 
directions to where we wanted to go. Then we walked to the building. Fortune shone; we got to the appointment just in time. We were taken to a room. To find a disappointing fact.
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After all the hard work Jenny had done to get a four-page list of questions to be asked; typed, printed, and put into envelopes; the lady told me she and the psychiatrist ve had a meeting and decided, after getting her report, that I had two Dementias. Mixed Dementia: Frontotemporal & Vascular Dementia, and this has now been confirmed.
All without the man or woman meeting or talking to me.
I was hoping to spread the word about my not coping, getting things done and would love to be moved into a home to finish my life without frustration.
Well, summat like that.
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She told me I would not see her again; nothing further could be done for me.
So, thus and therefore, my first ever meeting with a psychiatrist did not mature.
I’ve never seen a ghost either, ready to see the Grim Reaper after today, though. Hahahah!
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As we left, I felt guilty and sorry for Jenny. Guilt for not realising they had held their own meeting and decided my fate. And for asking Jenny for her help with the long list, which she did, thinking it would help, and it was unneeded! All that work she did!
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The taxi Ejaz ordered arrived. In the biggest BMW I’ve ever seen! It needed help from Ejaz and the driver, plus a plastic stool to stand on, to get into it. Amazingly, I looked around and asked Ejaz what all this was for in the back of the cab. There were mobile charging points, cup holders, a big shaded glass roof, and buttons to heat the seat if needed! No wonder the trip cost so much.
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We got home; Ejaz had to move on to his next client. I still felt terrible that Jenny’s work wasn’t used. The lady did ask if she could let the psychiatrist see the printout.
I agreed readily and said This is the lady that keeps me going; I’d be glad if he/she would read it.
I went into a semi-depression then, and decided to tell it how it went when I phoned Jenny. I felt bad.
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Carer Andrew arrived while I was starting to update this blog. I spoke of what had taken place for a long time. As I told him the tale, I took my eyes of the screen; he was 
on his phone. He did show signs of sympathy. He took these two shots of the skies, as he put my torch on the balcony to catch any sun to charge it up.
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Carer Ahmed, or was it Carer Imran? Well, one of them did the late call. We managed a laugh or two. A rarity.
He took off the diabetic socks, applied some heat gel to the lower back, and issued painkillers. No Peptac, because I’d not eaten yet, not even started cooking it.
He did the safety checks and asked if I knew the oven was on. I pointed out that I was going to use it after he’d departed, but could I remember what I was going to cook? No! He laughed as I said, “Well, I could blame my bad memory on having Frontotemporal & Vascular Dementia, both types of Alzheimer’s.” But seriously, this past week, my memory has got so much worse. And I swear that the arithmaphobia has, too.
The Carer had a look at the medical returns and pointed out that the urine in millimetres passed, that is, arrived at by adding up each jug emptied and dividing it by the number of jugs used. I had got both figures wrong. I’ll have to correct them on the next chart. Good of him to notice and inform me; he even worked out what they should have been. He checked the taps and suggested, after I recalled that it was the cheap end bits of bacon I was going to cook, that I stay there in the kitchen the whole time. He’s not been coming for a long time, but he’s picked up the things I get wrong quickly. I usually go into the front room and fall asleep until the fire alarm goes off and wakes me. (Not often, though!) This is part of why I miss Mirza, who hasn’t called for such a long time, and Ejaz, who calls far less often nowadays; they are both reliable lads. I am disappointed.
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I got the bacon in the oven, and sliced some tomatoes and salted them, after suxking the blood from the finger I cut. Then took this shot of the sun on its way 
down. Then got the spuds from the slow cooker and put some Teriyaki sauce on each one on the tray. Then I took this closer shot of the sunset. Nice!
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Back to the dinner making. Started by making two thick-sliced sarnie sandwiches with small-cut pickle spread on the bread. Got the spuds and tomatoes on the foil tray. (Not so much washing-up to do) Added some Sesame Soy sauce, and settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV and eat the meal.
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INCHIES TALES OF WOE
This did not, of course, go exactly to plan.
I didn’t need to say that really, did I?
As I recall it, the first thing was that I’d left my torch on the balcony. So I had to get up, go out, open the balcony door, grab the torch, close the door, come back in, and almost settle into the recliner…
When I turned on the TV, I realised that I’d still got my reading glasses on. Painfully removed my colossally moribund disabled body from the recliner, stubbing my toe as I got to the computer desk, swapped glasses, returned to the recliner…
As I settled into the least painful position so as not to set my back off again, then, at long last, I bit heartily into the first bacon sarnie… And dropped it! I’m ashamed to say, I swore and cursed. As I got out of the recliner, I used a kitchen towel to clean up the spilt pile of no butter, butter, sauce, pickle and bacon from my dressing gown, legs, feet and the poor, now dingy carpet.
Got settled again, and ate the meal and still found it satisfactory under the delayed eating process.
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Inchie: Tuesday 22nd September 2026
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Due to my superbly competent, reliable and assured ability to make repeatedly on a multiple-times-a-day basis; of cocking-up, forget, and make arithmetic errors multiple times a day, I deleted the entire blog three-quarters of the way through the process.
Did I want to cry? Did I use foul language in self-lambasting myself? Well, not at first…
The instant I found that I dished the notes of the day, thinking that I didn’t need them, now, and of course, now needing them… these two Whoopsiedangleplops may well have caused another stroke or heart attack.
Self-loathing, abhorrence, aversion and hatred showed their disgust, and repeated self-cursing did not help.
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Without my notes to refer to, I sometimes left me guessing why I took only a few photos.
Reasons, news and points of interest were lost.
Of course I’m doing this Wednesday morning. Making recollections even dimmer and scarcer. Grumph!
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A food order arrived…
See how I worked that out?
Large jar of pickles, but why
did I take this snap?
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Morning views.
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Ah, I remember this… Dear Jenny, my Angel, sent me a draft of everything I need to advise the shrink about tomorrow (now today).
She had amended some things for me and was waiting for my reply to the suggested changes.
I emailed them back, accepting all her ideas; Jenny did a grand job on them and said hubby Frank would bring them up for me. This proves the value of all the help and advice Jenny & Frank give me. Bless them.
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Unbeknownst to me, the fire alarm had gone off; I can’t hear it without my hearing aids, and they are both waiting to be booked in for repair.
Frank arrived and told me about the fire alarm, so I took these snaps above…
Poor Frank had to walk up six flights of concrete fire escape stairs to get to me. The lifts self-disable when a fire alarm goes off. I was so appreciative of his help, but felt a smidge of guilt.
I felt genuinely heartwarmed when Frank handed me a packet of wafers and two envelopes containing the list of the four lists of things I have to take to the Psychologist meeting, from Jenny.
So kind and thoughtful; she had made two copies, one envelope for the Doctor, whatever he is, and one for me, printed in larger fonts, so I could follow as the man/woman asks about each needed piece of information. She knew, remembered the cataract and hearing aid loss situation. ❤️
Perfect, great idea, lovely, and kind idea.
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The last snap of the few taken.
About 23:00 hrs; the dailymeal..
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Inchie: Monday 21st September 2026
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Two terrible snaps taken in the early hours
From the kitchenette window
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07:15hrs: After another awful night of disturbed sleep, I slowly started to move and feel out the pains in the body.
Carer Andrew came in, asking what painkillers I needed. I was still confused, half asleep and thought the back pain, shoulders, angina & toothache were well calmed, during which he asked me twice again. Then I opted for one codeine & two paracetamol. He slapped on some back gel, and I convinced him to put the diabetic socks on for me. The slippers he forgot about. But progress was made. I asked him to remind the boss about the upcoming psychiatrist appointment & me needing a Carer to go with me. Of course they will no doubt leave before the meeting is over, just like the last two I went to. To get to their next client. If it is not Wjaz or Mizra who goes, there is no point; they are the only two who understand my problems and can answer questions about any changes from the Doctor, dentist, neurologist, audiologist, or EENT.
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When the Carer shot off, taking the rubbish bags with him, I limped to the wet room to check that the floods had not come back in there.
It was all clear!
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I went to safety-check that the kitchen taps and cooker were both safe and had no leaks or had been left on.
This shot was taken to the left of the window.
The bottom one is to the right. I did take a centre photograph, but it disappeared into the ether from the SD card. Or I did summat wrong.
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I got the computer on to finish off Sunday’s blog. It was hard going, with this new £850 plus installation computer. It has never worked right since I bought 
it, and the engineer refuses to come back to look at it. Gullible Gerry, eh?
Hornwoggled again!
Depressed? Me?
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At long last, after weeks of trying to find the time, I got around to reading the comments! A lot of them!
At last, I’ve got caught up! Sorry it took me ages.
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Carer Ejaz called. He is going to get me a list of medications that the EENT and psychologist need for the meetings. A good lad.
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I then spent four hours making up the required details needed for the meetings, during which I lost them all!
Had to start over again. No idea what I did wrong.
Boulderdash, Cragnangles & Boild Turnips!
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My Angel Jenny said I could email her the list, and she could check it and let me know anything I may have missed or got wrong; I can change them, and Jenny will then print it out for me to take with me to the EENT and psychologist appointments. Bless her ❤️
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So it, angina has just kicked off; can’t win them all!
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Almost bedtime now.
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