Lymphorrhoea Leslie

Inchy: Wed 30 July 25 – DDDDD all day, then a late visit from High-Mood-Horis

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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The lost photos from yesterday.

You can hardly see the part-moon in the sky!

For most of the day. Then, late on, visited.

Oh, dear, I’m wearing black diabetic socks & slippers.

Took a shot of the end car park, no mudslide.

Porcelain Throne visited.

Returned to the computer and noticed it had been raining. A mudslide had started in the end car park.
The rain stopped. It only lasted for ten minutes.

Into the kitchenette to refill the bladder water bottle.
No rain, but the earlier bit we had was clinging to the glass of the window.
Opened the window to take this one.

I’ve got some peas, onions, and sweetcorn in the slow cooker, ready for later.
Made a brew of Glengettie. Then cut up some potatoes to bake to add to the meal. Not a single cut finger. Got them in the oven

Blue skies and grey clouds.

The front car park on Citrus Walk.

The Food Fiasco…
I served up the nosh on a tray. Bread and the last pot of vegetarian lemon yoghourt, bread and some mini tomatoes on the tray with the seasoned stew of sorts. Casserole? Soup? I’d put some liquid smoke in the mix. But when I got down with my meal on the tray, I sat in front of the TV on 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, tormenting Harold’s Haemorroids, recliner. Put the TV on to watch a recorded Heartbeat episode.
I got deep into the programme and was consuming the stew, or whatever it’s called.
I’d got through about half of what was in the dish, and just as I remembered, I had not put the potatoes in from the oven, I got the smell of burning up my nose.
A semi-panic mode gripped me, and I put down the food tray to rush into the kitchen… Luckily, what happened next was as I stood up…
Gave way on me, and my knee greeted the carpet and forced me into using swearwords and curses. My mind was then concentrated on getting myself up again.
Which, using the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, I hauled myself up into it…
Unfortunately, I caught the chair with the food on it and spilt the dish all over the tray.
I carefully got back on my feet, and now my concentration was on getting the tray cleaned up before the grey spilt through the holes at the end of the tray, out onto the floor.
This, I did. Using kitchen towels, I cleaned around, and then smelled the burning from the oven, and remembered why I was getting up in the first place.
I got the oven door open, expecting the worst, and the sliced roasted spuds were… well, cooked to perfection, just as I like them.
I added them to the dish on the tray… .
I caught my hand on the oven tray while taking it out.
By the time I’d cleaned that tray and ointmentated the burn. Then, I returned to the TV room with the added potatoes.
I rewound the Heartbeat episode to catch up on what I’d missed, and started eating. I’d made too many potatoes and had virtually started eating another meal. I couldn’t manage it all, but ate all of the potatoes. For some reason… , visited, and this was unexpected but great!
Even when the next calamity took place while washing the pots in the kitchen, I handled it in true High-Mode-Horis fashion, “Sod-it, Sode em all”!
Compared to the earlier responses to the mishaps, I just accepted things as being expected and anticipated. Part of my everyday life nowadays. Gawd, if only  it could be conjured up when something happens untoward and I get visits from ? I dream, of course, but in a state where anything seems possible. Can he be conjured?
lost the plot again there…
Ah, yes, the ! I dropped the dish into the water in the washing-up bowl, and a few drops splashed out onto the floor.
It set the Flood Alert Alarm off!

Ejaz did a decent job today. He did the laundry, helped me clean the oven, took the waste bags to the shoot, and mopped the kitchen. Unfortunately, he used the speed mop, which left the floor sticky.
He put the night diabetic shocks on for me.
Did a full-body check on me. Reminded me about the Fire Alarm inspection tomorrow. 

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
HMG has Coercion. But lacks Cohesion
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Inchy Today: Monday 28th July 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Firstly…
My walks through the tree copse, daily,
I recall my visits with some accuracy,
But as more ailments and diseases came to me,
Visiting became a physical impossibility,
Due to Glaucoma-Gladys, and a new disability,
Arthur Itis, seizures and Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
Unguis incarnates, Paroxysmal Dyskinesias,
Both Cartilages & Peripheral Neuropathies,
Duodenal Donald… each one an ancillary,
New medications that work antiapoptotically,
Nurses visit me, kind and benevolently…
Warfarin Nurse, checking my DVT,
Takes blood regularly. She does this superbly,
I so miss going in the copse, I spoke to every tree!
Next Missing Ode, Grizelda & our contiguity!.
Our affair went magnificently…
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A better Morning! Great!
Up and out of the hospital bed at 05:35hrs.

Again, the nocturnal catheter pouch was
almost empty. As yesterday, once I got up and started moving about, I could feel the flow back in the bladder, and it was painful. Within a couple of minutes of taking off the night bag, the day bag began to flood. The colour was a number six grade on the NHS score chart.

I made up some cool bottles of spring water from the fridge, replaced them with others to chill, and got on with updating the blog. It went well, and I completed it and posted it to WordPress.

I pottered into the kitchen to snap a picture of the sky. Low down first.
Then higher.

My daytime catheter had still not been changed. I was on the Porcelain Throne (Constipation Conrad affair) when Ejaz arrived, and I remembered to ask him to do so. Which he did for me. Unfortunately, we had a long-tubed one and had fitted it before realising. So the lad had to search for a short-tubed one, remove the long tube, and fit the short tube in its place. Bless him.

Nice and comfortable fit, Ejaz did. The rear end wasn’t, though; that was stinging something awful. Ejaz managed to clean and medicate the insertion area. He left some of the items on the £300 second-hand shop purchase, circa 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. But no bother, he’s had to do the catheter twice, and was running late. 

I dug into setting up the template and began working with this editor. I was making fewer errors than I had lately. And I .

I got the kitchenette mopped up.

Back on the blogging session. I was now making the regular cock-ups. Humph!

The Intercom chimed out. It was a Red Cross Technician. He’d come to check the workings of the hospital bed. I thought he was checking the wheelchair, which had a loose arm. He only does beds, he said. However, he still set out to examine the wheelchair problem for me. Six holding pins on the arm were missing. Luckily, he had some with him for repairing the bed that fitted the wheelchair arm. He mended it for me. I’m being looked after today. This chap followed Carer Ejaz in spending more time correcting things for Inchie. 🤎 

He then checked the hospital bed over. All okay!

Back to the blogging, it needed some tweaking and fixing. Tsk!

The Intercom Rang Again: It turned out to be a lovely District Nurse. She had come to check on both & refit the bothersome,
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What a fantastic Community Nurse. (It was love at first sight!) Patient, understanding, and so gentle with my genitals. She started by sorting out the things underneath the Carer’s table. But we could not find any of the painkiller tubes. She looked into the backroom… and ended up sorting it out for me! The medical stuff, I mean. She thought she might have a tube in her car. The nurse asked me for the door fob, then went down and returned with a tube of gel. How kind was that? Very! The first job was the big one, the removal of the current contraption. She worked carefully; there was no rushing, unlike others. She even suggested putting it back on the other leg. Which, after inserting the new tube into Little Inchy, and with the least pain I’ve ever had in the last three years of being catheterised! Smoothly, and as I’ve said, less painfully.

She then inspected my rear-end. She was concerned and asked me if she could take a photo of it. I agreed, and she took a snap on her mobile.
They told me to wash and dry things twice a day and to apply barrier cream, well rubbed in.
The nurse showed me the photo, which startled me a smidgeon. Chrikey, it was red! 
Then informed me that Little Inchy had a new lesion at the tip. She thinks it may have been caused by not frequently moving the catheter to the other leg. It is essential to do this, as the pressure exerted by the tubing pulling on one area is likely to cause injury. The nurse had already placed the new contraption on my right leg.
What a gift, what an Angel! 🤎FsocjF

To the kitchen to get something to eat.



Back on the computer… but unfortunately, the usual 17:00 weariness & tiredness set in, without any fading down period, instantly at 15:00. And,
Leaving me no option but to close down the computer. As I got up to make a bite to eat before I fell asleep, more bother; something I have not had a lot of bother with for months now. In both knees, and
gave way, all but having me over. I thought that DDDDD coming on was due to my silly excitement at the visits of , Why the knees and Cartilage misery? I now receive complaints from the joints, and I did for the rest of the night. They never fail to hurt or threaten to give way when I partly bend or put weight on them.

Washed the pots, sagety checks and down in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.
I sat pondering on the day’s opposing events. More good than bad, I think. Up to now. But memories of the bad I’m used to. I was in mid-ponder, as I drifted off to sleep. I fell into a deep sleep, but it didn’t last for long.

The Intercom chimed up an hour and a half later. I struggled to wake up, and the pain in my knees made it difficult to reach the intercom panel. I  knew it was Carer Ejaz, and as I lifted my hand to press the entry button, gave way, and I needed both hands on the hallway wall to prevent myself from falling. I must have pressed the wrong button in my rush, and the Intercom closed down. I waited for Ejaz to push again. But he didn’t. However, he came in the door a few minutes later, asking me why I didn’t open the door for him.
I tried mt best to explain to him, but I’m not sure he understood me. So I told him about the morning’s Red Cross volunteer and how he had helped me out. Then the story of the District Nurse was a great help, with the Catheter Contraption all done calmly, not rushing, and far less painful than it had ever been done. She also told me I must start using the diabetic socks during the day again. My not doing so will not help with the leg problems.
She also said that she’d try to get the catheter pouch nets supplied for me.
I’m not sure how much he understood, though. I was struggling to start by telling him that the Red Cross man had repaired the wheelchair arm. I had to take him to the balcony and show him the arm of the wheelchair and the missing bolts that he replaced for me. A kind man. I felt he was unhappy with me for not letting him in.
He’s a good lad, and I think he deserves praise for the things he does do, not lambasting for the things he forgets. I’d be lost without Ejaz. As I am without Carer Joe, so knowledgeable & helpful. But gone now. I phoned him up last week. He’s happy in his new job and enjoying it. He’ll try his best to call and see me when he visits his Dad.

Once again, back on the computer.

Three snaps of the kitchen sky view.

On Ejaz’s last call, bless him, he showed that he was listening to what I said earlier. He cleaned, dried, and applied barrier cream to my rear end. He also did a body check, and I appreciated it. Yes, I flipping well did!
He took a photo of the closed window in the balcony with his mobile phone and emailed it to me.

I love a brown sunset. We found the thinnest pair of Diabetic socks I had, and I left them ready to see in the morning so I don’t forget. Ejaz checked the kitchen and wet room for safety before leaving. As the nurse said, it may seem cooler not to wear the socks, but these legs prove that you will have to. When winter comes, you’ll feel happy to wear them. She was right! Kind, too!

I did some late work on the blog, and then popped into the kitchenette to catch the sunset before it disappeared. A better effort with Kodak Tim 2.
Lucky to catch this shot!

I nearlt forgot the snap of the small, but lovely meal. The brown tomatoes and the
chip-shop chips tasted just heavenly!

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TTFN’ski, Each!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 19th July 2025

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Exam results in school, most at the bottom of the list,
In English, I came out top; I tried to be an odeist,
Wrote short stories, subjects ranging from history to a ghost,
By goodbyes were usually Tara, so I’m no linguist,
I often got beat up, they used sticks, boots & fists,
To survive, I had to use guile and feignest,
I didn’t realise it then, but I was a hippophagist,
I didn’t know the name then, but I was an immanentist,
Which made me brave when I went to the dentist,
Over four years, it was my only visit,
Dad pulled my teeth, using his pliers…
Each time, the pain was beyond bounteousness,
If I cried, Dad would get all blasphemous,
He sent me to the gym, amidst the bodybuilders,
Said I should be more sporty, less academical,
I’ve to learn how to box, be pugalistical,
Even then, I found that ironically comical,
The Sportsmaster trained 9-stone Nathaniel,
4-stone soaking wet me? The caretaker, Nigel,
In the first round, I was virtually unhittable!
Mind you, I never managed to hit Nathaniel,
In the second round, punches were exchangeable,
The third round started. Oh, hell!
He caught me with five, and I hit him once; it was painful!
I woke up in the shower,
His punch had too much power…
So shamed, I went home to cower…
The coppers were searching for Mother…
My losing the match didn’t seem to matter…
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A shortie again. The difficulties seem to come at me non-stop, even at weekends.
The plaster on the leg has just been replaced for the fifth time, and I can’t find any more plasters.
I’ll start with the photos I snapped after getting up and nearly falling out of the flipping bed.

The fourth Lymphorrhoea Leslie bloodied plaster, with the tape that I had to use for the third time, cause I can’t find where I put the tape either.

Another mystery this morning.

The left wrist wound was looking likely to improve.
Carer Ejaz titivated it a bit later.

I received a phone call on the landline. The Neurology Surgeon’s assistant apologised for not calling yesterday. I also received a text message. She will be phoning on Monday and will email the questionnaire for me to fill in. Or was this yesterday? I sense I’ve written this before.
This Premorbid Cognitive Impairment that they have rediagnosed for me is worse than what they said before, Dementia Doreen was. I swear!

As for next week’s events;
As the Carer is unavailable on Wednesday due to accompanying me to the dentist, no laundry can be done, and the kitchen & wetroom cannot be cleaned and mopped. And no help with the finances or Emails can be had. Bearing in mind that Monday & Tuesday will be busier and more hectic than ever, I won’t be in any condition to go to the dentist on Wednesday…
I’m a smidge nervous for next week.
Poor silly-old-sausage!
I’ve just ordered some sausages to arrive next week… Guess what day the cheaper delivery day is? Yes, Wednesday evening!
I hope that I can get the blog done, but anticipate that I’ll have to give up for a few days. I’ll never catch up again, anyway.
Worra Life!
Still, I must not complain; many are worse off than I am, who have things more severe than I do.
I apologise for moaning. Bless you all.

Early snap taken of the early morning view, with  Kodak Tim 2.

Oh, by the way, I had a repeat of the below four times this Saturday.

I’m still hoping… 
Lots of unexpected, no-warning
blasts from the rear-end. Hehehe!

The front junk room, which will only get worse next week without the Carers’ help, depressed me.

Another mystery photo I found on
the SD card. It might be a badly
taken shot of the bed. But why?

The mudslide is coming on again.

I got the chips out ready for later.

Carer Aheo did the second short call.
Carer Mizra called for the third medication. The lad put a new plaster on the leg injury. He also found the medical tape and wrapped some around the plaster. Thanks, Mirza!

I’m off to make a meal now.
Try to get it eaten before the Carer arrives.
It might be Carer Ejaz.

More to follow… Not a lot…

Inchy Today: Thursday 17th July 2025

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Ode to Inchies life-coping…
A dream that is just not happening!
Although he can’t cope, he’s enduring,
But not at the stage of managing,
Struggling, suffering and wrestling…
To be honest, he’s only just surviving,
Inchie overslept again this morning,
Carer Ejaz woke him, with the doorbell ringing,
Got too quickly out of bed, his catheter bag dangling,
Confused, to the door, self-cavilling…
Things happening, memories dissolving…
With his own brain, he was tangling and tussling,
Ejaz: Get back to bed and stop worrying…
Inchies’ wounded hand & leg ointmenting,
He recalls the medication issuing,
Short seizures came, and are still coming…
Following each one, Inchy was worrying,
His actions and mind were disagreeing,
This was not in the least bit assuring,
Then, he left the hot faucet/tap running,
Water was stone cold, so no ablutioning,
Until the water heats up this evening,
It brought to mind more than one other thing,
Several, each liable to be angst-giving,
If things don’t happen, or need adjusting,
A District Nurse should be visiting…
To check the Lymphorroea leg that’s leaking,
Ejaz rang the Dentist about internet form filling,
Got a password to use, some questions were baffling,
He rang again, for clarificationing…
“Come early, before the dentist’s extractions and filling”,
Thanks to Carer Ejaz today, he was very caring!,
A food order came that Amazon were delivering,
Inchy cheered up later, High Mode Horis popped in,
And very welcome he was, Spiffing!
Anne Gyna, much later, came visiting…
A short call, but not nasty or overbearing,
So, compared to earlier, he may not yet be coping…
But he’s certainly feeling better & hoping,
For a miracle, things to go right, he’s praying,
Intent on not doing any more oversleeping,
It’s not alcohol, so he’ll soon be drinking…
Hoping a nurse will call to do the medicating,
Things certainly look better, less depressing,
Temporarily gone are his days of moaning,
Also, I hope his habit of tumbling and falling,
Believe it or not, he’s currently singing,
Despite no hot water yet for his ablutioning,
He’ll stay dirty and smelly, in revulsion!
Can’t feel guilty, he’s not got the compunction,
But, for life-coping, has he got the gumption?
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Morning starts with the memory notes.
Plenty of blanks.

A gentle mist lingers.
Possible thunder, they say.

Food Delivery
No cheesey-topped bread rolls.
So I got a Hovis farmhouse batch.
Yellow mini tomatoes and
Juicy Gammom Ham.
Fridge filled again.
Aha, my favourites, pod peas.
I shelled half of them and got the beer-battered
Chips are all ready to go in the oven.

THE FEAST!

Still misty.

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BEST OF LUCK!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 6th July 2025

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TO HIS SERIES OF DREAMS LAST NIGHT
I hiked there in my warped realisation.
The result of a moment’s aberration,
Off for an afternoon spent riparian,
I enjoyed this on Bristol’s River Avon,
Ah, the peace, no altercation…
I saw my first coprophagan…
Missing the cow turds, with attention,
No visits from Agathodaemon…
I felt totally free of depression,
A gentle breeze, the sun my guerdon,
On the river, flotsam & hymenopteran,
So peaceful, no thoughts bacchanalian,
My mind wandered off on its own volition…
Viewing the world without condemnation,
I fell asleep, & found perfection…
Suddenly, no hatred, wars, crimes or derision!
Harmony, with Angels, each a protecting guardian,
All around me, people dressed Edwardian,
Azaleas, looking up at me, showing their apotropaism,
No scent of fear, or need of apogeotropism,
Then, I feared for this imaginary kingdom,
Knowing what lies ahead, I had the wisdom…
A man filling his pipe, his girlfriend paying attention,
Would she lose him in a war, perhaps the Crimean?
Senghenydd explosion, 439 men died while mining,
I woke up to find I had a problem,
A water-filled, leaking Wellington!
Maybe a seizure, I thought, after an interregnum,
This was all beyond my comprehension,
Yet the day felt real, in fact, so idyllian,
I even managed a little self-irrision,
I felt joyful, blithe, with exhilaration…
But riddled with suspicion…
Was today all but an illusion?
I’ll have to give this some consideration!
I certainly felt a strange abnormalisation…
I got there & back without transportation?
I searched but found no medication,
Ah… I’m at a different location!
Brookfield Place, under Arkwright St station,
All gone now, not in my memory & imagination,
It smells the same, soot & smoke from the train station,
The rag & bone man, horse & cart creating a ruction,
We try to get an increase in price, but get a reduction,
I saw myself poor & undesirable, a bezonian…
This dream is like a circumbilivagination,
The stable, the wood yard, folks in contradiction,
What I see may well be a conceptualisation…
But to me, it was a reassuring actualisation,
The smell of boiling bones for the gruel,
Not that I ever thought this was cruel,
Survival meant we had to be adaptable,
Cow heel, rabbit; if one were catchable,
Mother found cigarettes to be ascertainable,
Usually scrounged, stolen or pocketable,
As a small lad, others found me punchable,
Despite this, I remained compliable,
Although the neighbourhood was a little tribal,
Everyone had a go at me, it seemed logical,
I thought this was to be expected and normal,
I’ve always been easy to clobber & bumfuzzle,
Never knew why, but Mother called me her barnacle,
They pulled the old Meadows down… terrible!
It’d be a treasure to anyone archaeological!
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0535hrs: I think I woke just after having a seizure of some kind or other. Because I was so confused and wobbly on my feet when I dismounted the bed to sort out the nocturnal catheter. I felt the need for the Porcelain Throne brewing up in my innards.

Dizzy Dennis joined in the sensations as I slowly hobbled, with a degree of balancing difficulty, to the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a messy and extremely long affair. The time spent cleaning up the limbs, bottom, and porcelain was worse because I kept getting dizzy each time I bent down. 
Another mystery from Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Dank Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhoea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morgana, hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.

But as I hobbled back to the kitchen, I realised it was as if someone had corrected my balance, and the Dizzy Dennis had gone off into the ether?

As I thought about this gift, with her stabbing pains started in the neck this time. And spent three hours touring around my torso. Under the left arm, right chest, centre chest, back to the neck, almost up to the chin, right chest… etc.
When she suddenly stopped, I wasn’t surprised; she must have worn herself out. Hehehe!

I poddled out onto the balcony to take a couple of shots of the view in the rain, through the windows, of course.
I had to take a shot from the end of the balcony as the innards were gurgling and rumbling again. Once again, was in control. At least it wasn’t as messy as the first. But it was extremely gooey! Smelly-Phoo, too!

Back to the balcony to take a window end shot.
Although I am not very often pleased or confident about anything I do nowadays, this one I was happy with.
. Hehe!

Carer Ejaz rang the intercom. I fumbled my way to the box, pressed ‘receive,’ and the panel showed Ejaz on his phone. I then pressed the release button on the door. The intercom chimes started again, and the inner lobby door had not opened! I tried again, but no success. (No success? Could that go on my plaque at the crematorium? – Or, as someone suggested last year, would this be better: “He came, He failed, He Went?”  Got carried away again there. Sorry. So, I’d got my dressing gown on from when I went out onto the balcony to take the fantastic, wonderful, magnificent photo above left. Haha! So I went down to admit Ejaz.
How long will this visit last? I’m absolutely loving this mood! 👍🏾

Ejaz was wet from the rain, poor lad. He got the prescription medications sorted for me and reminded me to take the B12 supplement. No Peptac or Cetraben is needed. As Anne Gyna was on a break, the legs, ankles, and feet that had been fed to bursting point over the last three weeks are looking great, super-duper! Yee-Haa!

I made a determined effort to complete yesterday’s blog. Although, was, for some reason going blurring my sight, almost as bad as she does when I look at the sunshine.

A couple of hours later, the intercom rang again. It was the Iceland order arriving. I tried to tell him the door might not work and that I’d be down to open the lobby door manually for him. I’m not sure if he heard me, as the screen dies within a few seconds. So, I got dressed again, and as I was leaving to go down, the driver arrived. He put them in the kitchenette for me.
The first thing I noticed was the big bag of toilet paper. They were a bit more expensive than my usual ones, but it was the sale price, and it stated they were triple-ply. So, with getting frisky with me, I thought it best.
What a Mistaka to Maker!
👎🏼Just look at the size of this sheet that I photographed! Pathetic!
I swear that it will take a third of a roll to wipe my bottie after a evacuation!
As I photographed a selection to go into the fridge, I noticed that Iceland Foods had done it again. 👎🏼The steak slice had a must-be-used-by date of Today!
👎🏼And, disappointment number three from Iceland Foods, the baby potatoes. I had to throw away six of them. (see the photo on the right). They were either split or had black spots near the surface; some had both! 👎🏼When I opened a pack of the shortcake biscuits, they had been ready-pre-crushed for me. The company’s new slogan is Google tells me:
👎🏼“That’s why we go to Iceland” Huh!👎🏼
Free delivery, though, as long as you spend £40.
No mention of the fee for picking, packing and carrier bags. But one has to be fair. Asda often pre-crushes your bread to make it easier to digest; their dates are dodgy, too.
Even J Sainsbury sent Royal Farms Grown Anya potatoes last week with black spots, and they were to be used by the same day as the delivery. And cheesy cobs. But with Trump, Putin, Xi Jinping, and Sparkling Toolmaker’s Son Starmer doing their best to prompt World War Three, does this really matter enough to bother about? Maybe not!

A Little Quiz: There was an item in one of the photos that Carer Mizra pointed out had ingredients. Here they are; see if you can find out which product it was from them. Ingredients: Beef (1800P08 per 1g) of beef xxxxxxx. Seasoning: dextrose, caster sugar, salt, onion powder, yeast extract, tomato powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, caramelised sugar. Natural flavouring: Citric acid, smoked maltodextrin, oregano, liquorice powder, paprika extract, salt, vinegar, potassium sorbate. The seven X’s replace the name of the product. The first comment winner will receive a Certificate Of Merit on the blog.

Carer Mizra arrived, also rather damp-looking.
He took a minute or two to examine the new mobile, trying to figure out how to change the ringtone and make it louder. No luck, but he tried. Thanks, Mizra. Ejaz tried without any luck the other day. I don’t think the option is on the phone at all. They both comprehend the workings of new phones. I think this one has no choice.

I persevered with this blog. And I got some of the photos uploaded and into the WordPress gallery… this is when, to the best of my knowledge, the first seizure occurred. This was a decent, lengthy one, nothing like the five-hour one I had earlier in the week, but again, I was all over the place mentally and physically when I emerged from it. It was replaced by confusion . 
I found that while in the seizure, I’d been working on the blog. I made a right mess of it, which took me ages to get right again.
It took me half an hour of just sitting here feeling sorry for myself, especially after the longest-ever unbroken visit from .

All the effects were lessening when Carer Mizra returned. During the time he was here, clarity returned, along with something that amazed me, but it was back in my head again. No rhyme or reason. Nothing had changed, apart from Carer Mizra calling and the head and dizzying clearing. Yet, I’m in a Sod-Them all mode again. Unbothered, unworried? How I wish I could summon Horis up when I need him! 🤸🏻‍♀️

Back on the balcony.
The rain had stopped. I got a decent shot of the famous end of the car park’s mudflow.

Then, the amazingly dull but still gorgeous sky. Then I’m afraid that things have changed slightly for the worse!
A dual attack coordinated by and hit me; this was not good.

The last Carer call was with Mizra. When he was here, joined in. Mizra had never seen (or heard) Roger in action before.
He seemed genuinely worried, asking if he should call an ambulance. No sooner had he gone than the rain came again. I took a snapshot of it from the closed kitchen window.

Back to the blogging. Thinking and praying for the return of . No luck! 

I continued with this lengthy blog. Suddenly, I realised it was 05:00hrs! No wonder I was feeling done in. I had no energy for food preparation, so I saved the things and closed the computer.

It took all the energy I had left just to climb into bed. For the first time ever, I ignored the panic-thoughts of Did I lock the door. Are the taps turned off, etc? I was not feeling too well and was too tired to be bothered. Well, that was a first!
Luckily, nothing was found amiss in the morning.

Apart from the fact that I was so far out of it.

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TTFNski.
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Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
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I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I  , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I  caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that  my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all. 
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time! 
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
pillockI soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

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Inchy’s Ode: Sunday 22nd June 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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I’ve bought a little present FOR Herr Starmer. Well, it saves him from committing suicide, and I’ll be a lot better off in prison, no bills coming in, no cost for food, medical help. Money for my story when I get out. I may become a People’s Hero? Oh, yes!
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I was anti-sex… well, until I was six,
An older neighbour then gave me some tips,
How to enjoy each other’s extra bits,
Boy, did I enjoy the aftereffects!
Even now, on the pleasure, I often reflect,
No one ever found out, as I learnt more aspects…
I think we both became addicts,
Couldn’t have got better if I used Holodecks,
In the kitchen, floor, or behind the cabinets,
A highlight was having it in hammocks,
That day with her two sisters,
I realised why her house had three beds,
A surprise when her cousin interjected,
Finally, my cherry was affected…
Sometimes, all four aided and abetted…
Tuesdays, Wednesdays & Fridays were red-lettered!
I met Grizelda before those days were bettered!
To my Auntie, one day I ambulated,
Who got me to stay with her, & I was bedded!
She was posh, but a little antiquated,
It was a long way from Home, West Bridgford,
I was fed, washed, & talcum-powdered,
I’d never been so well pleasured,
It was nearer to my school, maybe I was adopted…
A TV, a record player, nightly a Jazz fest,
Kisses, gropes, lusts, sex, beyond what I’d hoped!
She taught me how to respond and multitask,
She varied the routines, changed the molests,
Come to my bed, massaging me with her breasts,
Her handwork was undoubtedly the best,
I was nurtured, never neglected…
Got there after school, my pleasures negated…
But, scarily, she had disappeared!
I tried for weeks to see her, I persevered,
No adults would tell me why; it was prohibited!
All I yearned for, and desperately needed…
Was again, be pampered, partnered, & pleased!
Such times we never again proliferated,
Well, it was much later when Grizelda appeared!
Grizelda came along many years later,
Our date ended up as an all-nighter,
A big, strong-muscular gal, hairy, but her allure…
Just thinking of her got certain things astir,
6’3” of passion, thought I might need a ladder,
My glasses would hit a nipple when I faced her
Firm, pec-flexing breasts, sending me aflutter,
I’d get lifted and thrown on the bed, gently…
Muscular legs, as she started to straddle me,
She was my Angel, and said she loved me!
My eureka moment, phenomenally,
6 months bliss, she had to go back to Germany,
In 6 weeks, she’ll return to enjoy my company,
Painted the bedroom in her colour, Coffee,
Never saw her again, I didn’t find out until 2003,
She’d been run over and died the same day,
She was a member of the East German Volkspolizei,
That was the end of my romantic activity,
Cause I got the badder bother, you see.
Then the stroke and Peripheral Neuropathy…
Cataract, heart attack, problems hearing,
Got shot twice, working for Security,
It’s also the end of me ever being lucky!
Still, I don’t like to complain! Hehehe!
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Welcome to the blog of handicapped, nearly crippled, feeling sorry for hissen, Inchy. 
The Lymphorrhoea (a common complication of lymphedema, a condition where lymph fluid builds up in tissues due to a blockage or damage to the lymphatic system) fluid is filling down to the toes from just below the right knee cap. The left leg’s selection is just the skin getting rugged and wrinkled, but give it time; it may join with my right leg in a full explosion of leaking fluids and agony yet. Well, it’ll be company for her. 
I’ve suffered with this before, but never down to the feet and toes. Walking is not easy. Not just the pain, I feel as if I’m standing up, walking on a rowing boat in the rapids at times. Haha!
I’m amazed, but semi-proud of myself for only having two tumbles all week with it.

The seizures have had me over a few times this week (3). To be right, that’s wrong… I’m getting up too soon after the aftereffects when I return from the mind-wandering and or stagnating, far too soon, each time, that caused the problem. They have mostly been short ones, but they have been regular today. Sometimes they need a little extra time to sit down to recover sufficiently before I start hobbling around. Some of my cyber-friends have told me they experience the same problem. Each time, it was the intercom ringing, and I had to get up and go to the hallway so I could open the door for whoever it was, before the timer cut off the connection. Two callers have had to ring again, which I anticipated, so I got myself up from the tumble, and went to the hallway; better late than never, and waited for them to try again.

I spent more time getting out of the seizures than I spent in them. Believe me, regaining your faculties, such as they are, is becoming increasingly complex and taking longer. I cannot say for sure which Carer made which call.  
Although Anne Gyna did not give me a full-blown attack, it’s a worrying sign when she seems to tease me with a couple of stabbing pains in the right neck, amongst others, but only a handful at most each visit. I’ve noticed that when this happened in the past, the next day she’d be in full flow.
I’ll still cross my fingers, though.

The nurse is coming on Tuesday to look at the Lymphorrhoea for me. It’s looking no worse than yesterday, apart from the fact that the fluid queues are bigger, and now down to the toes. Tsk! With any luck, they might come on Monday now she’s taken Friday’s photo and sent it to Matron Jackie… but then again, she’s not in work until Monday… yes, I expect it will be a Tuesday call, at best.

So many blanks for today. This one on the left is interesting, though. The sunshine on it indicates I may have, or someone else did, take this snap in the kitchen. No memory of it? Ah, maybe it is an old one I picked out by mistake? Because I hang dressing gowns over the kitchen window when the sun is out, to reduce the chances of annoying Glaucoma Gladys if the sun hits my eyes, and I often temporarily lose my balance and vision. I lost a lot of things today, concentration, my mobile phone, the haemorrhoid ointment, and track of what I was doing as I did it!

If I live long enough to go to the urgent Neurological surgeon’s appointment. I just may get some help with the seizures… if indeed that’s what they are. No medics have used the word ‘seizures’ in any of the telephone calls and visits I’ve made. I call them seizures cause that’s what they feel like, but I’m not sure of the proper word to use. Still, no rush, the emergency appointment isn’t until… I’ll check on the Google calendar… aha, I’ve found it; Thursday 6th November, at 15:00hrs. Shame they could not have done it as Carer Joe asked them and made it for a Wednesday. Got to get there and back on my own now. I’ll ask Carer Joe to phone Easy-Link to find out when we can arrange a lift.

I fear that if things do not improve, it may mean a nursing home for me. Anything like the one I was in for my stroke recovery… scares the hell out of me.
Sorry, feeling a bit sorry for myself again. Tsk!

Not many memories are recallable for some of these pictures. At least I got some taken.

WeeWee nice & light.

Early morning view. 03:35:hrs.

Carer Manpreet, I think, took this snap of the ankle. Showing the build-ups of lymph fluid on my ankle and foot. Not a pretty sight, as the midwife put me in a pillow slip and handed me to the mother. Who promptly said to her, “I don’t want it, throw it in the Trent!” I didn’t know this until a few years later, when I met the midwife, who informed me of my entrance into lifehood. Naturally, I asked dear Mother about this. I had to wait a while, cause she’d just been arrested. When she was bailed and rang Dad for a lift, she got home. I told her and asked if what the midwife had told me was true. She casually replied, as she lit up a Park Drive cigarette: “Yeah, but I took to you, a bit later on.” How reassuring for a four-year-old. No wonder I went on to get Dementia. Tsk!

I got the potatoes delivered from J Sainsbury yesterday. Intending to boil them in the slow cooker for later on. These manky ones above had to be removed from the bag first, as they all had black spots on them. I consulted Google: Black spots on potatoes can be caused by several factors, including bruising, fungal diseases such as black dot or black scurf, or a condition known as blackheart. While some of these are cosmetic and safe to eat after peeling, others, like blackheart, can indicate rot and make the potato unsafe to eat. I saved half of them that looked edible. And I put them in the crockpot on a low setting.Put to marinate.
I shelled and added some peas.
Looking good!

Final Meal!

What a view!

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The foot, ankle, and leg throbbed a bit.
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😺 Keep Safe & Well! 🐶

Inchy Today: Sat 21 June 2025

/ Inchie / 17 Comments

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A perfect name for Starmer? Reprobate!
He does tend to extrapolate…
Also tends to floccinaucinihilipilificate,
His lies are spoken in a manner asseverate,
He lies perfectly; well, he was a barrister,
His promises have all gone abnegate,
Nationalise public services? We still await,
Robbed every pensioner and family farmer,
A Labour Party leader, now PM, the bleeder!
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Thankfully, although I couldn’t recall taking many of them, I managed to get a few photos taken today. Because the memory notepad was bare this morning. Last evening, I had seizure after seizure. That late in the day meant it clashed with my daily routine, leaving me tired and confused. The result was not nice for me. I cannot recall the last two Carer visits at all, but I assumed they were the usual weekend two, one of whom came earlier. 
Lymphorrhoea Leslie also got worse as the day went on. I was struggling to walk and to keep my balance.
The under-toe area was excruciating, along with the sack of Lymph water that was growing under the ankle bone. 
The toes have gone bent, and there is Lymph water now on top of the feet. The wound area is only painful when I catch it on something, although it does give off the usual electric shocks up the leg, but not too often, and makes me jump more than it feels too painful. Toothache-Tiffany has been on and off all day long. One blessed thing, though; Anne Gyna was kind to me today. Bless her.

My worst day in a long time, to be honest. With the repeated out-of-it’s and my confused state of mind after each seizure, I’m not sure of anything that took place. I sense more people came to see me, but certainty mingles with uncertainty.
Luckily, I had the top graphics done before the seizures arrived.

I hope Sunday won’t be the same. 🙏🏻

The night bag colour was good!

Food Delivery
Fridge
Filled up!
Fridge door

Cheesy Roll, bacon, tomatoes
garden peas & a pot of jelly.

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TOODLE – PIPS
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Inchy’s Ode: Friday 20th June 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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My thoughts tend at times to do aerobatics,
It considers itself something of an anthologist,
Memory-Mangling-Malcom: Thus memories missed,
Or shared, swapped, or lost in the mist…
One may reclaim an iota, or some missing bits,
Then new ideas are lost or dismissed,
Mingled with mystery, abstrusest,
Facts glean different interpretations,
Resulting in aberrations, in addition, anon…
Confusion deepens when I recall the first one,
Forget the next one, this brings doubt, mistrust,
A selection of fears, worries and angsts,
Time lost, and the urgency gets overstressed…
One moment you are at the day’s angriest,
Sweat under the armpits, concentration flits,
Frustration, followed by getting depressed,
All you can do is what you deem your best…
Then Anne Gyna kicks off, all over your chest!
Reminding you of Grizelda’s hairy breasts,
Our lamented mutually-loved entangling trysts,
Oh, how I miss those physical exercises…
Gone forever – wanting to cut your wrists…
Like each and all self-controvertists,
You dig out memories and eroticise,
Wondering if this is really wise?
Recall your hatred of Starmer & graffitists,
Am I a sort of inspirationist?
Is it time to metamorphosise?

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05:00hrs: I stirred.

A lovely light shade.

I thought it would be a good idea to try to get the front room tidied & cleaned bit.
It still looks the same.

Cut up some tomatoes and put them in the fridge for later on, salted.

Joe checked the neurologist’s text message. And got it up on screen (the letter). It turned out that the appointment is for November.

Carer Ejaz then Joe took photos of Leslie’s leg and ankle with lymphorrhoea throughout the day.
The District Nurse came to change the dressing. She seemed concerned about the fluid-filled growth above the ankle joint and took a photo to send to Matron Julie for assessment.
Ejaz’s inside of the ankle.

Showing early hours of the ankle fluid swelling, and the tape that Ejaz added to keep the pad on.

After the nurse had been. The fluid-filled sac is obvious and a little larger now.
A fresh treatment pack was put on.

While Carer Joe was here, I had a seizure. Joe said it lasted for just a few minutes. Then, took this photo as I was writing on the memory notepad.
Minutes later, the seizure arrived.
As I got up from the chair, the after effects of this seizure had me over, another tumble. I lurched on my way down, landing on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, whincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
A smidge shook up. I should have left it a little longer before getting up after being out of it?

Joe will be off for two days now. Not a pleasant thought at all. He’s saved the day so many times this week, I fear for myself over the weekend. But the lad needs his breaks. Got a wedding to go to as well. I love photos of Pakistani weddings, the joy, the colour, and the celebrations!

I spent many hours on the blog, and it seems to get nowhere with it. I’m still on it now, Sat morning.

Nice!

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FARE THEE WELL, EACH!
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Inchy Today: Sun 15th June: Computer Crashed!

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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Erm, Grizelda, definitely!
Something else will come to me,
Hopes that may come true, antipoverty,
This will fail due to the oligarchy,
Peace, end to wars; I’d love to see,
Stop politicians from lying & dishonesty.
Love all, thick, thin or with aduncity,
Black, yellow, red, white or pinky,
Stop bullies who act asseveratingly,
Stop Starmer from killing another pensioner,
Use the NHS medically, not politically
All act agreeably, cooperatively, supportingly,
To those who struggle with disability,
I mean mentally as well as physically,
Could they have free balneotherapy?
Oligarchs adverts are pure baloney…
Sentencing rich & poor haphazardly,
Herr Starmer has great intransigency,
He lectures/talks recalcitrantly,
With inflexibility, audacity, and temerity,
Sycophantically, sanctimoniously…
Tells porkies, misleads, repeatedly,
A freebooter, hoodwinker, & flimflammer,
A Labour Party disavower & traitor,
Obvious to all, he’s a four-flusher,
A terminator, like Schwarzenegger,
A backhander-seeking scavenger,
Sausages & hostages, has he got aphasia?
I think he ought to try some tincture…
Arsenic, cyanide, or belladonna!
Of course, this Ode is only theoretical.
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I’M FINDING IT HARD TO BELIEVE HOW MANY ACCIFAUXPAS AND WHOOPSIEDAGLEPLOPS I HAVE HAD EVERY DAY FOR AT LEAST THE LAST SIXTEEN. ARGGH!

AT LEAST MAINLY
Naturally, the daily intake of Whoopsiedangleplops, Accifaupas, and frustrations joined the regular mistakes, failures, and self-loathing, as well as cursing my inability to do almost anything without dropping, knocking something over, forgetting, experiencing seizures, mind-blanks, or banging into various now-damaged pits of the sparse furniture and fittings. Accompanied today by Toothache Tiffany, Anne Gyna, Trotsky Terence on the Porcelain Throne, and the damned catheter tube yanking on poor Little Inchie, making his fungal lesion bleed & hurt. 

The computer uploaded some photos and graphics early. All good. Doing the top section went well.
Then, when I went to empty the catheter bag, I tipped it into the WC and went to the kitchen to wash the jug. This jug, which I’ve used for the last three years or so, has disappeared; it seems to have vanished.
I went back to the computer, and it was completely blank; I couldn’t get it to reboot. No need to tell you how uptight, angry and depressed I was.
I spent hours and had two Carers call whilst I was trying everything I could think of that might have gone wrong. I gave up and moped about. I made a meal; there’s no point in photographing it. I didn’t eat much anyway. Most went into the bin.

Many hours later, I tried again. Being unsure which of the many plugs were attached to which bit of software would usually have made me very weary. But not now; I thought the computer had had its time and died a valiant death after being used every single day, sometimes for 15 hours a day, by an aged thicko. It had done well to last this long. Combined with my not being able to get anyone to take a look at the problems for me and all those times I was using it while in a seizure, it deserves a medal.

Making about my fifth search for the lost urine tub (No luck), I decided to make something to eat. As I moved nearer the sink, I caught the tough skin of the ankles against a plastic sharp lid edge. Lymphorrhoea Leslie bled away, leaving some spray of blood on the kitchen floor. It’s still there; no callers noticed it. I managed to stop the bleeding and applied a large plaster over the wound, then taped it in place. It’s not a pretty job, but when I changed it for a clean one later on, it looked okay to me. Barely a scratch, really. He says bravely. Hehe!
I had to backtrack because I went astray chronologically, and I also left the hot faucet/tap running, which resulted in losing all the hot water. Well, fancy that, I’ve not done that since yesterday, Saturday! Humph!

The Carers today were Manpreet two, Joe, then Carer Rozma; no, I think it was Carer Jyoti. But then again, I am famous for getting confused. Especially when under stress and after a series of short, sharp seizures. I had a good few of them today.
I don’t know how I found the time. Tsk!

On Joe’s last call, he helped try to sort out the computer again. We tried three times, and I was ready to give up. But Joe charged a plug socket, and we tried once again. It took ages to get it to go… But amazingly, it did. We kept getting options for each effort, but we couldn’t select them. This time, it went through, and wallah! Carer Joe did it again.
Rescued Me! Saved The Day! 👍🏻🙏🏻

Naturally, I expect that the next time I try, it will not work again, so I got on with the blog. If it doesn’t go down again, I will try my best to post this blog as soon as possible.

The computer allowed me to upload two photos taken after the calamitous Blue Screen situation was sorted by Carer Joe and blind-leading-the-blind.
Then, the reader was not identified again. Grrr!

A later-than-usual photo was taken from the kitchen window. Well, it’s now gone midnight, and this snap was taken just before.
What a fantastic sight!

This one was taken just after I got the dressing on the wounded leg. (Sympathy-seeking again? Hehe!)

Better get this posted. Matron Jackie coming tomorrow, and she can come early sometimes.
This looked much worse than it was.
When I changed the plaster and cleaned
There was no bleeding at all.

Fingers crossed that the computer starts in the morning… PLEASE! If you hear nowt for a bit, it might have packed up again. Oh, fear, great fear!

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Hoping For The Best!
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