Lymphorrhoea Leslie

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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Inchy Today: Thursday 15th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

OLD STARMER FUN CARTOON
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I thought I’d discovered a way of saving the photographs without CorelDraw cutting me off. I had to use the old CorelDraw; the new version, which cost nearly £400, is not letting me export or save. 
After 6 hours of importing photos one at a time and saving them individually, I found out that CorelDraw would not let me save anything in the old version! It kept either freezing or closing down on its own accord. I had to keep stopping for Ejaz’s call. Ejaz got the bags for me in the kitchen when the food delivery arrived. Issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on for me, and Barrier creamed the bleeding thigh. Then, it took me a long time to put the fodder away. A good job that I was up earlyish, and got the ablutions and torso-medicationings done. Eyes, ears, toothache tincture and shaved without a single cut! Smug-Mode-Utilised.
Back to the computer. It closed down on me twice and froze on me three times. By the time I’d got the photos from yesterday in the WP gallery, with interruptions, I’d been at it for eight hours! 
After all that effort, I hope I can get them off the gallery to go in without any more cock-ups! Ah, well, here I go… Oh, dear, the second Carer call is due anytime now. I’ll see how it goes. Wish me luck?
No, don’t waste your breath. Haha!

Just some of the clothing that no longer fits me. Taken in mid-clear-up.
This rack was chocker-block full. At least Joe saved some for me after checking if they should fit onto my chunky, whacking great, super-duper-sized, walloping, cyclopean, elephantine body. Not many!
The rail racking had even less that would fit!
Two 60-litre waste bags full of unfitting clothing were packed and ready to be picked up by Carer Joe later. Joe made a funny quip after we stopped to get the laundry sorted out. I think I said about the drier?
“When Gerry looked after, in despair…
His clothes racks were bare!”
Hehehe!

I had three messages, well, phone calls that I’d had; One from the medics, One that I couldn’t decipher, one that I couldn’t hear from the Doctor’s surgery. This one said, “You’ve contacted the Doctor to ask for a home visit, didn’t you?” I vaguely remember Carer Joe calling them to get an appointment. He may have asked if a home visit was available. I asked him to ring back later. Carer Jazz came, not Joe, so the confusion may have developed because Ejaz didn’t ask. Then, I later got a call from the matron, but I couldn’t recall what it was about.
Ejaz said I have to call Matron Jackie. That’s all on the note he left. 

Back to the plot, I got a bit off-kilter there. Sorry.

Oh, I nearly forgot to put the meal photos on.
Roasted some potatoes in the oven.
Mixed then in the ready meal.
Got them into the oven.
Just out of the microwave.
A darned decent tasty flavour!
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I stirred back into the offendedness of life’s miserable existence. I was worried. About the CorelDraw farce, the computer blue screen of death comes up. The bank balance received by text has never been lower since 1980!
I’m confused by all the medical messages I’m getting and blown away by how many helpers suddenly come in. It baffles me when someone mentions something from a few days ago, and I cannot determine its concerns. I vaguely get partial memories come back, but they make things worse and worry me all the more. I’m waffling again, aren’t I? I’m well-versed and pretty good at that!

I was in the wet room by about 05:15hrs. 
As I stripped off, I realised I had only had one mini-seizure in an hour, and more importantly, I was not in any depression! Yet with all the extra bothers, confusion and misleading medical mayhem, I had good reason to be feeling down – but I wasn’t!
Only the other day, when I had a mother of Deep , I couldn’t think why.
The opposite happened this morning. I thI’veI’ve worked out why. It is when the reasons for a depression weigh heavily on me I can go into a sort of, well, ‘Sod-it, I can’t win!’ mode. Sometimes, how I feel now is the reason. Or maybe not.

I tried the tricks explained earlier to get CorelDraw to permit me to save and store things. I lost hours and hours as CorelDraw froze or crashed repeatedly. No, I’ve written that already, I think.
The shaving was back near to normal this morning. Three nicks, a dropped razor, and the aftershave Brut bottle. There were no other injuries, though. Unless you count when on leaving the wet room, I shoulder-charged the edge of the doorframe. Although that didn’t actually hurt much, it started off that did hurt a bit. She’ll have my shoulder socket ball out one of these flipping days! Hehe!
The only thing that bothered me was that    had returned. I won’t complain; she has given me several days of rest. I’ve missed her roaming stabbing pains. Secretly, whenever she attacks, I try to guess where she’ll hit me next time. Areas so far that have felt her wrath: Neck, jaw, shoulders, arms, back, or, even occasionally, the upper abdomen. That’s her favourite attack route for me. Her abdominal playground is under one arm and around the other. She rarely gets me there. (Just watch how things go now that I’ve just said that!)

Ah, much better!

The part-mystery of this note has been solved.
The surgery receptionist called me on the mobile, so it was not easy to hear her, but she was patient with her patients. Hehe! She made the appointment for my yearly Health Check (shown earlier), but I am not concentrating well today. Nothing new there, then. For Thurs, May 29th, a home visit! Great!

Had an early meal tonight. Salad.
A sliced baked potato and tomato (Dutch), caramelised beetroot, and red onions (tasty!). With some Milk Roll sliced bread slathered with the gorgeously tasty No Butter, Butter (by Flora). The only let-down was the so-called Mature Cheddar cheese. I’ve tasted tastier newspapers! But all the rest of the dish made was up for this, somewhat.
As a warning to any UK mild, insipid cheese-lovers, it was Cathedral City Mature. If you happen to like tasteless, weak, bland, pale, uncrumbly, rubbery cheddar, this is the brand for you!

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CHEERS MIDDEARS!
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Inchy: Wednesday 14th May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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First time in Parliament? Expect irregularities,
Want to accustomise? First, you should acclimatise…
Be the awarest, awesomest, & awfullest,
Knowing your foe’s weaknesses can only be wise,
Also, consider if you really do realise…
You need to know your foe’s atmospherics,
Beware the ethereal, but listen to their fallacies,
It’s essential to avoid verbal catch-22s,
Ignore the incompatibilities, self-contradictions,
Their abnormalities and ambiguities…
Lies, debasements, and talking contradictorily,
They use these cons daily, customarily,
Use reverse psychology on Keir’s bootlickers,
Digressions and deviancies are expectednesses!
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Protect yourself, avoid the moral shanghaier,
You can’t miss him, the PM, Keir Starmer,
To gain faith, become a backhander…
He likes Arsenal, cash and things ocular,
Look left, right, you’ll see a thimblerigger,
Starmer’s lies shoot out sort of spicular,
Just sit there looking nowhere in particular,
You’ll be surrounded by psychobabblers,
You’ll be increasing your cash in your coffers,
Your unchecked expenses for acupuncture…
Toilet rolls, lipstick, maybe garden furniture,
Computer… owt to increase your filthy lucre,
If, by chance, you got in under Labour,
Keir will let you catch hylomania!
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Manky day.
6 stitches.
CorelDraw charged me £345 + VAT for the new version. Why can’t I get any help with these things?
I loaded CorelDraw—and it crashed! I can’t save or export anything. I took eight photographs and doctored them before discovering this wayward glitch. They are gone forever.

I wish I was.

Two phone calls from the surgery, but I only understood one of them.

The laundry room dryer was packed up. Joe, on his way, put them in a different dryer. He had to go down to collect them, and I took a tumble, bending down in the dryer and picking up socks. I think I dropped more socks than there were in the drying. I guess I’ve become an addicted sock-dropper?

 My leg growths were bleeding when I took an earlier tumble while sorting out the clothes not needed in the junk room.

Broken-hearted, what a bloody day!

I finally got some food at 22:00 hrs. I can’t use or publish any more graphics or photographs, but I have some old ones I might use. I’m fed up with the mangled, broken, toothache-ridden back teeth.

Lower than I’ve felt for years now.

More medical callers, and a food order tomorrow. But I’ll try my best to get CorelDraw working. Or, I’ll find time to sort out a ploy to get around the problem. Possibly a smidge of blind hope?

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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 13th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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SMUG-MODE ENGAGED
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Thinking!
Thinking back, I began to hallucinate,
Here, giving me a cuddle, was Auntie Kate,
I guess I beginning, starting to levitate…
Floating back in time, young again, lanate,
Grizelda began to maxilate…
Fondle, hugging me, & to mussitate,
We did things considered misappropriate,
Guilt? I no longer felt, nor was I novitiate,
Freedom, my thoughts no longer obdurate,
Physical ailments began to obfuscate,
Gawd, this illusion is super-great!
Am I dead? A ghost, or maybe a wraith?

Am I being given a forecast or a prophecy?
Am I dead or alive? I viewed this whimsically,
May I be en route to see St. Peter?
I’ve paid my debts! Rent or electricity,
Why do I sense that I’m feeling guilty?
Is this a dream, a seizure or a Whoopsie?
Griselda is still toying pleasurably with me,
I no longer feel elderly, tired or weary!
Under my bed is now a guzzunder,
I’ve not seen one of these since 1953,
What year is it? I don’t feel at all distressingly?
The sky and globe have turned all yellowy…
Opaque, angels, pink clouds, worryingly…
St. Peter has not yet greeted me!

Am I getting sillier? I feel more cheerier!
Is this an end-of-life bamboozler?
Wherever I am, it feels cosier,
I suppose it should, being free of Starmer?
Yes, I must have died; I’ve never been happier,
Oh, here’s a transparent cheerleader…
Glittering eyes, big bust, much curvature,
Ah, she’s just been attacked by Grizelda,
Maybe because she gave me a sly twire?
Heaven or Hell, I feel much toeier…
No bother from Gladys Glaucoma,
Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder or Anne Gyna,
Grizelda’s back, with handcuffs and a tether…
Prompting movement in the tallywhacker!

Well, I’m interested and acquiescing,
A billion-long queue of souls is forming,
Grizelda & me at the end, that’s galling,
It’s for St. Peter’s gate, I’m assuming,
For questioning and allocating…
Heaven or Hell’s door selecting?
Grizzly said, there’s a third door we might be using!
I asked for what? This is so confusing,
That’s for souls picked to be returning…
The answer was more than terrifying,
Sent back to earth, that’ll be intimidating!
For those chosen, Starmer will be waiting,
Still be cheating, lying, stealing & killing…
I suddenly came out of my daydreaming,
Starmer is still in power; it’s heartbreaking!
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This morning, I kept waking up at 04:00hrs.
Repeated this action endless times before nodding off again into a deep sleep.
I was woken up at about 07:30hrs. By Carer Ejaz. Who told me it had taken him about ten minutes to wake me up! I swiftly fell asleep again. Ejaz was concerned when I sat up and grabbed my lower belly in response to aches and pains. None were awful, but they remained for a few hours after Ejaz had gone. 
As Ejaz was issuing the medications, apparently, I nodded off again! 
I did not move from the bed during Ejaz’s visit. He removed the nocturnal catheter bag and applied Barrier cream to the leg-strapping wounds. They were much less bothersome and painful this morning. Being in bed for such a long time made the base of my sternum far more sore than it was yesterday, but the wounds looked better. Ejaz took this photo of the catheter contraption for me. I got the diabetic socks put on for me. Ejaz lost some time with having to rouse me. And I had to shoot off; I’d not moved during his visit.

When Ejaz left, I fell asleep yet again! Hence, there was little time to catch up or much photographicalisation today.

When I finally gingerly got up on my feet, my stomach ache steadily improved. But my concentration was not good at all.

I got on the computer, and the catheter pouch filled shortly after. When I went to empty it, the tube on the release valve was not there, making many messy emptyings throughout the day. I searched the flat, thinking it must have come off when Ejaz emptied it. He usually does not take it off. Sometimes, he’ll put it on. After failing to find the tube, I thought he might have pulled it off when he removed the nocturnal bag. He then put it in the kitchen rubbish bag, which has since been put down the waste chute. So, I’ll struggle on. Let’s face it, I’m good at struggling. Hehehe!

I was prepping to get today’s Ode started. But feeling better in myself now. Then…
I found I’d left the damned hot water tap running again. How many times in two days? Three, I think!

A massive vagueness overcame me. It stayed visiting me until about 16:00hrs. It was in full flow when Carer Joe called around 13:15hrs. I’m unsure what we spoke about other than Joe’s plans to start sorting the clothes in the junk room tomorrow. So, maybe there will not be a blog for tomorrow, for the first time since I was in hospital in 2007. I think, but thinking is no longer a strong point for me. Hehe!

I took this snap on the left from the kitchenette window. I remembered to cause
I knocked a jar of mushroom ketchup off the window ledge, and it landed on my . 
Not that it bothered me at all. I merely laughed it off and started singing to myself.
Then, I took another memory, prompting a snap of my beloved tree copse. I may have used the wrong photo here, or the computer posted the wrong one? Anyway, taking this snap hurt me more than the toe incident.

Then I realised that the sun covering Khagoule had fallen into the water jug on the floor.
So, I had to hang it on the shower curtain in the wet room to help it dry out. I also turned on the heater to encourage it to dry.

I visited the Porcelain Throne as well. Trotsky Terence was in control.
It was a messy job that took a long time because there was no hot water. Did I mention I’d left the hot tap running earlier?

The sun died temporarily while I was fetching water from the kettle, and walking with the walking stick was a bit risky.

I got some potatoes into the slow cooker that I forgot to tell you about earlier. 08:00hrs approximately) There are no secrets on this WordPress blog, Inchy Today!

I’m back on this blog after checking, updating and posting yesterday’s post to WordPress. Then, I started on this post.

I’ll check the potatoes. This is going to be a long job. Turn them (if ready), put them in the basin, bash them up, add no-butter butter, sea salt, Worcestershire, and Soy sauce, and then the tricky bit: grate and mix in Leicester cheese. Put the mixture in the oven and cook until the top has crispened. Prep[ping took me 35 minutes, and the washing things up after took me over half an hour.
I pray I don’t let them burn… Please!

It took me hours to get the potatoes sorted and mashed with the shredded Leicester cheese and red onions. I found evidence in the morning, blood on the fridge door that indicated a cut thumb or fingernail) I washed the pots and put the dish into the oven to crisp it up nicely. This usually takes a good half-hour. Here it is before cooking.
Carer Joe arrived as I was putting it in.
Medications issued. Joe said we would start sorting out tomorrow in the junk room. He’ll take the laundry down to the washer, come back, and we can sort the clothes out. This will free up many coat hangers. Because there are so many trousers, jumpers, shirts, and coats that no longer fit me. They don’t call me Mr Blobby for no reason, you know. Haha! He should have time to nip down, get the laundry in the dryer, and dry it for once. Joe’s got it all organised beforehand, which is a great help.

The potatoes were removed from the oven and put on a tray with some bread. I added some cut tomatoes, and I 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 to eat the meal.
It took me a while to eat it all, but I did!
Then, heaven… Zzz!
Carer Ejaz woke me up two hours later.
He removed my diabetic socks and mended the nocturnal catheter-damaged day bag. He also added a tube from another point to the current one. I checked the kitchen and bathroom and got my head down, but I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter pouch on. It’s hard to believe, I know.

So, when I was woken up by the pain from poor Little Inchie being tugged on with the weight as the pouch filled up, I had to get up to empty the pouch post-haste. Could I get back to sleep? No! 

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But it didn’t Bother Me, Hehe!
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Inchy: Sunday 11th May 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Into power Starmer did hurdle,
Now, we await his downward hurtle,
He looks mundane, boring and sensible,
Proved winning power was accomplishable,
At lying, he’s fluently forked-tongueable,
Truth to him is customisable,
Like his excuses, taking treats from Arsenal,
Despite his proving to be adorkable,
His stealing from pensioners was awful!
To him, greed & dishonesty is normal,
I’m in decrial; he has my disapproval…
Unfortunately, he’s unremovable,
Despite his dishonesty & being dubitable,
Despite proving to be adorkable,
Taking backhanders, & acquisitional,
I’m bald, but he makes my hair bristle!
I’d like to meet him, in a quiet twitchel…
To declare my feelings, which are emotional,
I stew in hatred, sink into a dwall,
All I can do is write anti-Starmer doggerel!
The scum-ball makes me so epithetical,
I’ve never known a PM so pathetical…
I hope his reign will be expediential,
This Labour party; can it be extirpable?
To socialism, he’s not endemical,
His policies seem enigmatical,
I can’t see a party that could be a rival.
Tories? Sunak turned them suicidal,
LibDems and Greens, both hopeful,
Reform, a far-right furuncle?
Starmer’s a bully, so says his uncle,
Words not to describe Keir? Affable & merciful,
Starmer’s end may be happenstantial!
Send a bottle of gin laced with weedkiller?
Naughty, but I’d like to see his funeral,
I’d love to be there at his beheadal,
Good heavens, I brought on a smile!
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Labour admits disability cuts will force 250,000 people (including 80,000 children & pensioners) into poverty.

Keir Starmer’s Labour Government are cutting almost £ 5 billion from the Welfare budget via targeted attacks on the sick and disabled. This will include excluding young disabled people (aged 18–21) from incapacity benefits. This “Spring Statement” has finally revealed the Labour Government’s impact statement. It says that more than 1,000,000 disabled people will lose their disability benefits.

The Labour attack on disability benefits will ultimately push 250,000 people (including 50,000 children) into poverty. It’s a sickening and frightening situation for hundreds of thousands of disabled Brits.

Awful. 
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04:14hrs: Sorted the catheter contraption bags.

Carer Ejaz appeared as I was starting the computer.
He did a good job. He medicated the catheter strap wounds and those on the left wrist and arm.
Then, I put on the diabetic socks. Ejaz graded the nocturnal catheter wee-wee. He quickly checked the torso for bruises and creamed a couple of them.
He checked the taps and stoves and reported that I’d left the hot water tap running. Tsk!

So, no ablutions were able to be done this morning! But the first call to the wetroom.

Took this snap…
Just as Cartilage Chloe gave way, I hit my elbow on the way down against the radiator.
Landing on Cartilage Carole’s right knee, the strap on the catheter contraption shot off, and the tube gave poor Little Inchie a hell of a tug! Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Getting into the other room on all fours was painful, as I was trying to hold onto the loose strap to prevent another tugging session!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After what felt like an hour or more, I had to leave the walking stick behind. I got to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
Hauling my flobby-wobbly body up onto the recliner, I twisted to get myself to sit down. I soon recovered enough, rose gingerly onto my feet, and hobbled back to the kitchen to get the walking stick. I pressed on… – right against the ingrowing toenail again!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
After giving off a howl, growl, and a bit of swearing, I reclaimed the walking stick.
I caught the wristlet alarm and set it off!
Naturally, I just laughed it off.
A few fibs above, I believe!

I took this snap and sat down for some R&R.

Carer Joe woke me for the early afternoon call. Not that I could recall much about it.

I sat down again, nibbled some crisps, and returned to the computer.

I heard the intercom chiming and got up to find it was Carer Rosma. The watch told me it was eight o’clock. Which my befuddled brain thought was in the morning. (I now know it was evening), and I did not have the medications? I thought that Carer Rosma had got the time wrong.
I’m not sure what happened there, but I did post Saturday’s blog and started on this without recalling doing either!
Seizures? Effects of the tumble? Arithmaphobia? Did I fall asleep? Ménière’s disease? FND?

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

The notepad had a fair bit of scribble, with very little being decipherable. 

Community Nurse Rebbeca on her unexpected visit. She checked the cartilage strappings. She said, “If you have any trouble, call me.” What about? A total mystery to me. I didn’t get any Warfarin because I thought it was morning and had a vague recollection, which I put on the blog earlier, that Carer Joe had been. A worrying episode!
I must remember to ask Joe about it in the morning or whenever he calls. And add it to the Doctor problems to take with us during the appointment.

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

I went to look for what to have for my meal and found I’d made a microwave meal and put it in the fridge. I’m a bit concerned now.

No wash or shave. Lost hours in the day. Took a tumble. Left the hot water tap running. Exceedingly weird seizures and loss of time & events. 

I’ll get the fodder from the fridge and hopefully catch up in the morning.

For the first time, I was uneasy about my new form of complete time confusion, and realising it was morning when it was night took me a long time. Time, clock, and numbers could indicate that my arithmaphobia is getting more severe. Sorting out the memory timewise almost hurt my brain. I kept skipping between the believed wrong time and returning to the present, inevitably suffering another trip out of the real-time zone repeatedly. And momentarily, if not for longer. I felt positive I was in the correct period. This made working things out even harder. Hopefully, a nurse or even the Doctor may read this, appreciate the severity and the worry it brings, and get me an earlier appointment to see the Doctor.

In the morning, I tried to explain the time discrepancies to Carer Ejaz as best I could.
I’m not convinced he cottoned onto what I was saying. No feedback.

Bean stew with added pickled water chestnuts and brown gungo beans.
TASTY!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Tuesday 6th May 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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Sore throat, cough, something bronchial?
Gargle salted water, no NHS for owt medical,
Cycling on the pavement, a constable…
Gives a lecture, then a clip around the ear,
Nicking coal so you could have a fire?
Another clout around my ear on the agenda,
MPs just didn’t appear to be bribable,
Nothing known then as biopsychosocial,
Although the air was barely breathable,
DC power and electric shocks could be lethal,
School? Maths alphabetisation & survival,
No mobile phones, colour TVs or drones,
12” records with scratchy sounds,
Didn’t go through the lights on amber,
Getting to the moon just didn’t matter,
No such things as the BNP or Asda,
Reading a comic was our adventure,
Years late; See you later, alligator!
A talking & walking test, no alcoholometer,
We bought potatoes 12½d by the barrowful,
Cwt today? Costs £150, astronomical!
Cars? Austin A30, Rovers, Ford Anglia,
Standard Vanguards the police’s option,
Poverty, to us, was the normalisation,
Our nights in were with the mouth organ,
Nights out; A drink, film, hot dog, depression,
Or beers, & involuntarily emptying your bladder,
In every pub or shop, you’d see an Arthur,
They showed colour films at the Astoria,
But they were costly at 2/6, half a dollar!
Despite my having dementia and amnesia…
These things I can still relate to, & remember,
Cause life then held some fun and pleasure,
So, I’m ready to go, whensoever,
Would I like to live again? Never!
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Big Iceland order

Fresh foods

More fresh foods
I did get some packets and nibbles.
But the photos seem to have escaped!
I CAN’T WORK IT OUT!
Admittedly, it may be the after-effects of the one and only (up to now) Seizure I came out of a few minutes ago.
I’m not grasping the problems or dealing with them very well. Of the eight photos I took of the order delivered, I can only find four. They were on the internal memory. Nothing else. I tried both SD cards and plugged in the transfer thingy, and a couple were there, so I tried again to upload them.
They didn’t show up at all?
I gave up and sulked a little. I tried again but had no luck; now they have also disappeared from the SD card!
I believe the problem is me.
When I tried a third time, I still had no luck, but I did find three meal photos I thought I had lost!
When?
When? Could they be old or already used?
Aha, last night’s!
So, what’s going on?
My grip on things has been loosened!
To make matters worse, the Doctor can’t see me until June. Carer Joe tried to get through this afternoon, but there was a massive waiting queue! I’m giving up now. I’ll see if I feel more with it in the morning. I know. I’ll go to the WP Reader and reply to the masses of comments I have received. Hehehe! Both of them.
Bit of an unnerving spell, this no-gripness!

Can’t recall taking this one

To this scratchy-looking shot
while making the meal

Slurp!
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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – Or summat like that – –
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What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night 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. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling. 
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 1st May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Unexpected things that can turn us into addicts, 
Have you considered antibiotics? 
What’s hidden in the needles of acupuncturists?
I’m not trying to be an alarmist…
I only wrote this in a little jest!
<<<<X>>>>
Criminals options; To be an abductor?
Take a bribe or backhander
Or, be a Harrod’s shoplifter?
Easy to become a pensioner killer?
Like Starmer, who’s also a liar!
<<<<X>>>>
Have you ever not voted? Abstained?
Allowed your payments to get behind?
Not paying your electricity bill, cozened?
Is your bank balance getting smaller or dwined?
Are food costs driving you out of your mind?
Have your hopes and plans now disloigned?
Is life no longer fun? Think you have failed?
This will be due to one man who conned & lied…
The voters now feel they’ve been deluded,
He’s murdered pensioners, totally unoppugned!
With any opposition now knackered…
I think Kerr should be prosecuted!
Imprison him, but he should be executed!
<<<<X>>>>
I suppose I should be feeling guilty…
Saying that about Starmer was naughty,
He is the P.M. and quiet portly,
The first thing he did was to rob my heating money,
So, I don’t think he’s a nice honey-bunny!
Then, he took £ 6,000 in gifts, shaming HMG,
Prices are rising so fast and dramatically…
<<<<X>>>>
Window cleaners’ prices increase by 20%.
The podiatrist the same, 20%,
Milk Roll Sliced Bread, up 29%
The bank manager is not acquiescent,
Electricity costs up 33.3%!
Many more, all with Starmer’s consent,  
The populations plebeians not complaisant,
And Starmer remains calmly arrant!
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I’m miles behind again.
I’ll have to cut down on content with so many things going on, including medical and disabled callers. I’ve got on today. No, two today. Got to learn the new equipment controls on one call. The other concerns the new Cognitive Impairment situation (I think).
I’ll try to keep the Odes coming.

Whoops.
Whoops! Where did the bruised eye come from?
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court’s hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again!
Ah, my ankles and legs are a bit better!
They change either shapes, colours or severity every day that Carer Ejaz does a body check.

Tomorrow morning, you can read about the biggest mystery this year. No idea how to explain it now, but I’ll sort something out by way of an explanation. When I figure out what happened.

Finished in the wet room.

View from the kitchenette.
These, top & below…
Taken by Carer Ejaz.
After checking the legs, acne, and eczema and noting the new bruises on my body, he proceeded to check the safety features.

After noon snaps.
Front car park.

An unknown mystery about these scratch bruises on my left arm. When Carer ‘Joe’ made his only call of the day, he took the snap as I explained what I could of what had caused the issue. Mainly so he could tell the Doctor if I ever got an appointment with her, as she had demanded. For a Wednesday so the Carer can go with me.

Sweet & Sour vegetable dish.
With Kung-Po sauce added and mixed in.
Oh, and some garden peas added!

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Entered Friday 0818hrs.
MYSTERY INJURIES
Best as I can remember.
Which is in far less detail than what I explained to Carer ‘Joe’, or I think it is.
I was just finishing working on the blog. In the process of saving the work, I recalled that I was getting into a state of disorientation and thought I’d better not continue…

Next, I recall being in the wet room, on my feet. Not on the floor, and I could not feel the injuries to the arm, wrist or neck at all at first. The room seemed its usual mess, but nothing apparent that could indicate my having had a tumble. Weird!
As I turned around, the shower curtain caught my left arm. I felt that, and then I could sense the bruised neck and the eye. Then, the Cartilage Carole started stinging; all these pains came on late, one at a time, a sort of delayed reaction.

How and why did I go into the wet room? 
I returned to the computer and shut it down without saving my work.

A mixture of despair, frustration, and self-loathing enfolded me. But I was still not feeling right, but not like I usually would be after a seizure or tumble.
When Carer ‘Joe’ came in, I was in my usual plodding-along mode. We spoke of the incident for a while, along with sly looks and smiles.

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Have a great day, each!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 15th April 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Inchie: You’re not listening to me!
Inchy: Well, I’m having a pee…
Rollocks, you can’t manually pee!
But I can empty the catheter manually!
Only if yer pouch ain’t fell below yer knee…
Then yer can’t reach it, only painfully!
If I’m you, and you say you’re me,
Why is yer always acting sarcastically?
Well, I stuck with you mentally;
No need for you to act temperamentally!
Sorry, it’s been another bad day, yer see
You don’t expect me to act amiably?
There must be some points on which we agree.
I’ve got Doreen Dementia in here with me!
And you, too, just as alarmingly!
She makes me act absentmindedly,
I’ve got her for life, intrinsically,
Playing with my mind’s psychoactivity,
She’s given me Peripheral Neuropathy!
Yes, she’s cruel, she inspires me…
Inspires you! With her psychoactivity?
She taught me jealousy & perversity!
And how to correctly use pomposity,
Then where did you get your piosity?,
The same place you got your absurdity.
Always had it; it comes naturally.
And your nastiness, and pugnacity?
I’ve had them since my birth in 2015 BC.
2015 BC? How come you ended up with me?
When your current brain dies, we float away,
To Grim Reaper Land ostensibly,
We get a new brain-lodgings for free,
Move in, if assessed okay? Then permanently,
Until they near death, which is you currently,
You’re really in antemortem, pre-autopsy.
Oh, then I’ll die owing money?
What’s yer biggest debt fundamentally?
£1,566 behind, and I need to pay my electricity fee.
How did you get £1,566? That’s a lot of money! 
Herr Starmer to blame mostly…
Ah, I understand, you’ve my sympathy.
No need to be gloomy or for any negativity,
You’ll likely die today while making your tea.
How is that supposed to cheer me?
You won’t have to pay for your electricity!
Oh, yeah. I can see clearly,
All part of life’s declivity!
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Catch-up from last night.
Vegetable stew with a sausage, some Gung-Po sauce added and extra gravy for the first time ever.
I had it in for a while and could not find a sell-by date, but it didn’t smell off. It tasted lovely. The Morrisons part-baked rolls were oven-cooked, and they tasted nice, well over-dunked in the liquid first. 
I could not read the contents of the Gun Po, but I tasted water chestnuts in it. When Carer ‘Joe’ called later, he confirmed no water chestnuts were in the ingredients. But whatever was in there, I liked it. I’ll try them again with the Bulgarian beans and sausage tinned meal.

I noted the strange mini-clouds that looked like gate tops above the yellow & in the grey.
They look like shark fins in this one.
Love to know how this happened.


A lousy night’s kipping again. Ever waking up.
I tried my best to stay asleep, but it was no good. So at 06:00hrs, I rose from the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
I removed the nocturnal catheter bag and mused over what needed to be done. Then, I decided to get the ablutions and medications done first, hoping to catch up on some sleep later.

I must have taken these two shots of the view from the kitchenette; they were on the SD.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching a bit of the balcony.

They didn’t go so well today.
Five cuts shaving. Dropped the olive oil bottle while sucking up some liquid. The Porcelain Visit took seconds, Trotsky Terence style, but it took ages to clean up afterwards. What a mess; I’ll not say where, but embarrassment ensued.

Carer Ahmed arrived. Socks, medications, and he found I’d left the hot tap running again! Argh!
Good job that I had an early clean-up & shave.

MARATHON SEIZURE
I WAS DOING SO WELL MEDICALLY AS WELL
I came out of it so confused. I’d done a little on the blog and made a mess of most of what I’d done.
I had to stop for a while to get my head together. Well, as together as it’s ever going to get. I fear I was out of things for several hours. I think I was; maybe I’d fallen asleep? I doubt it because I felt worn out after a while, which I hadn’t before the episode. I hope the Doctor rings soon. This one was not good.

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. He had a mask on and a cough and sore throat—so did I. It was a short visit during which he assessed the contents of the Gung-Po sauce. I forgot to ask him for some Peptac.

A food order arrived that I worryingly can’t recall ordering at all.
Six bags.
Cake shop & cobs. Cakes for Carer ‘Joe’ in thanks.
More cakes for Jenny & Frank… and me!
And the ice cream cones. Slurp!
A few other bits.

Then I called to see if Jennie and Frank were at home and took some treats down for them. They tell me off, but they are so good to me. Bless them both.

NOW A SCARY MINI-SEIZURE
I was stood up when I went into it.
I felt myself going and sat down.
What felt like two minutes later,
I seemed to come round.
Crikey, was I in a state. Balance gone,
hazy-minded. Within minutes, I was
back to how I was earlier.
Mind-Bogglingly Confusing!

As I write this, about four hours later, the seizures have stopped completely. (Give them time.)

I’m going to make an early meal, see how I feel.
Lamb burgers, methinks! 
Then, I will see if I can catch up on some sleep again.
I’m off to cook the burgers now.

More Tomorrow…
Including the Lamburger Feast!
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Sunday 13th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle!
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05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute.
This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap!
Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk!
Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .

I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.

Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to Med Hydrhelp when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem!
I got the pain gel cream on   and .

Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!

Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles?
Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.

I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here!
I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. 
However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?

Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!)
The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.

Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever

I took this shot through the balcony doors. 
Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever.
It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.

Never got back on the computer again today.
I’ll try to catch up tomorrow.
Not good this.
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All The Best, Folks!

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