Lymphorrhoea Leslie

Inchy Today: Wednesday, 9th April 2025

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ME & MY MATE ARTHUR
We’d go out every Friday night to the Astoria,
Do the twist, jive, waltz, especially with Nora,
That’s when the fallout came with Arthur,
You see Arthur dated with Dora,
I often entwined with Nora,
One night, I caught Arthur & Nora,
Arthur sounded like he was having a dyschezia,
Nora was calling out, Oh, yer, Oh Yer!!!
Arthur dismounted; I gave him a right-hander!
The scrap was a blockbuster, a bloodletter,
With Nora’s support, he fought better…
Bigger than me, and a blacksmith’s welder,
Arthur finished me off; the bounder,
Giving me several cuts and pyrexia,
I was comforted by Dora later,
Dora was a uranographer,
I mapped the soul & body of her,
Then stopped Friday night visits to the Astoria!
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Today was my busiest for months.
It is now 16:00 hrs, and I am shattered, tired, worn out, and weary. Glaucoma, Gladys, is affecting my eyesight, as usual. Here is a quick rundown on how I got into this dilapidated state! Hope I can stay awake long enough to get my ablutions and medicalisationings done. And the nurse has not shown up yet – possibly due to my putting the appointment in the calendar for the wrong day, and it should have been tomorrow.

I didn’t wake until 06:00 hrs again, but I did not get to sleep until 02:00hrs. There were fewer waking-ups with neck jerks.

I got the waste bags sorted out and placed near the door. Not knowing for 100% that the nurses would be arriving, I did not do the ablutions, or body medicationing, in case I missed the intercom. Then I handwashed some more socks and hung them above the sink to drip dry. Then, I utilised the Porcelain Throne.
This time, with Constipated Conrad still in charge. The evacuated product came out slowly and painfully, but all in one long, even bigger than the frequent Torpedo. It was more the size of a submarine! Gignormous!
Not messy whatsover!

Carer Ahram arrived. We left the bandage on the leg so the nurse could examine it when she arrived.

I got the kaghoule handwashed (made a mess on the floor ringing & ringing) and hung it on the shower rail in the wet room to drip dry. Painfully!

An email from Amazon said the delivery would arrive today before 21:20hrs. I concentrated on getting as much of the blog caught up with before the nurses arrived or the second Carer.

MISTAKE MADE HERE… WELL, TWO!
Firstly, I spilt water on the floor while handwashing and walked it all over the kitchen, so I thought I’d mop it up. I had a visit from Lost-Balance-Bernard and kicked the bucket, redistributing the dirty water back onto the floor! So, so I thought I’d mop it up again.
Second, I could see the sun coming around, ready to blast through the window, so I decided to hang the thin dressing gown on the rail to protect my eyes.
I knocked a jar of mint sauce off of the shelf, and it broke as it hit the just-mopped-twice floor, catching and seasoning the bandaged & right leg en route!
I was livid with myself!
I believe I was praying and cursing at the same time as having to mop the floor for a third time. My EQ knew something. I swear he laughed at me!

Carer ‘Joe’ arrived as I was cleaning the oven.
He’d got an extra hour today, so he could do the laundry and make space in the front room, as I had been taking tumbles & knocks lately. Damned decent of him. While he was down taking the laundry, I went to check some dates on the food.
MISTAKE MADE HERE…
I dropped a bottle again. I thought I’d mop it up. Gragknangles! Four damned times now!

‘Joe’ started making some room between the chair and my bed so I would be in less danger and bother using them.

He then went down to collect the laundry and helped hang it up with me. We went into the kitchen for something—ah, yes, food date checks! I wobbled a little and knocked a jug of water over.
Gragknangles! Five Ruddy Times Today!
‘Joe’ to the rescue; he took over, bless him!

I was embarrassed, but ‘Joe’ was understanding and calm about things. A nice, helpful chap.

He hoovered where we (well, he) had been sorting things out in the space-making mission.

I then realised that the kaghoule and dressing gown I had on had got soaked on the laf spillage episode. So had to change into a fresh one of each. And then had to hadwach for a third tine today. To wash another kaghoule!

He said he’d be doing the teatime call later on.

I felt begraggled, bewitched & bewildered!

A delivery and possibly a nurse to come yet!
I must keep going if I can. I dare not fall asleep and miss the nurse of delivery. Fed-Up!

I pondered my position and constant bad luck.
I’ve decided that I deserve no better. Will is just as well because I’m not going to have things get any better, now am I? 

Maybe it’s something I did in a previous life?
I was born as Hitler committed suicide!
Maybe I ought belatedly to run for Prime Minister?
Oh, no, we’ve already got Herr Starmer.

As tired as I was, and I know I was tired.
Cause today had drained me.
But thanks to Carer Joe and his amazing help given to me today, I got more clearing up done than for years!
A big thank you is warranted!

I settled after washing the pots up and sat in the recliner from the c1966 second—or third-hand Charity shop bought £300, broken down, catheter tube crunching, dried blood covered, grotty, dirty, and creaking recliner. Expecting to nod off quickly.
But, no! So, I put the TV on. This usually works. 
But no! Then the doubts came over me again: Had I left any taps running? I’m so glad I checked. The taps were all off—but what a view from the kitchenette window! I hastened to fetch Kodak Tim Two from the other room and almost rushed back before the view changed. I loved this one. At last, a decent photo!
Bootiful!

I went back to the front room and somehow manipulated my tired limbs and aching body onto the hospital bed. It took a while to get it into the optimum position, but once I found it, glorious sleep came at last! It was a little broken but still far less than of late.

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A Darned busy but productive day!
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I wish you each lots of luck!

Inchy: Monday, 7th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Chow!
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Inchy: Sunday, 6th April 2025

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That’s the lot concerning photos and graphics. Sorry. I was allowed to save just the first of the many pictures and graphics made and taken. I had some I could use again in the WP Gallery. All that time and effort was spent, too. I had some cracking Kodak Tim 2 snaps as well. The computer problems just have me beaten!

I gave up, deciding then not to, and tried again. I cleaned the computer yet again, all of it and put it back on again. Now, the only way to get a photo or graphic on is one at a time, and you have to rename the old image and save the new one using the same name. This cost me hours and hours, so long, I gave it up as well. If I tried to carry on getting photos on, it’d be such a long job, I’d still be doing it on Tuesday! At last, I can put some on, at least one.

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This morning, I may have wassailed,
But, in a tumble, my head was whacked,
I felt weirded and wrongheaded,
My bonce was bruised and wounded,
All a part of my life and my world,
Accifauxpas, to me, are well-founded,
To get back up, I struggled & wriggled,
The catheter leaked, so I widdled…
I laughed; at the same time, I writhed!
Falling back down on the walker…
My neck was sort of whiplashed,
I swore and cursed, but I only whispered,
The Carer arrived; he was wheritted…
Got me up, in pain & urine-wetted
I cleaned & medicated, just as I wanted,
But my confidence by now had wilted,
Anne Gyna joined in, I wearied,
I had a private stocktake, worded…
Me and my brain witwantoned…
For a solution, I waited, & waited,
Peace of mind is what I wanted…
I prayed, hoped & wittered,
Eventually, I just whimpered…
So depressed; Is this life warranted?
My prayers were so wholehearted,
I felt even more withdrawned,
The realisation of failure wrangled,
I can’t recall when I last womanised!
The last time I was pleasantly wooed,
The loins moved, and I was wowed,
Then my leg lesion wheeped…
The fate Lucifer on me has wreaked…
Satins Curse blew & wuthered!
Another seizure, the brain whirled!
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I’m handwashing again. I laundered two Kaghoules and some socks, hung them in the wet room, and turned on the heater. 

Bamboo socks

ABLUTIONS
The teeth & gums bled. However, that shave was better, with only one tiny cut!
Hoovered the hallway.
I took some boxes with the sorted waste bags to the rubbish chute without bothering anyone.
Medications went okay, well all apart from the fingal lesion, but I soon stopped the flow.

Carer Ahram arrived. The diabetic socks were put on, the medications were taken, and the daily catheter pouch was changed. It’s all good!

MY LONGEST-EVER SEIZURE!
I think Ménière’s disease brought on this type of seizure. I stop doing things when I get this type, but I am reasonably aware of what’s happening. I just can’t get involved until things are clear. But I could be wrong. This has been known regularly daily. I should think maybe nine or ten times a day, at least, and possibly more.
Alright, it’s a gusstimate! Haha!

Carer Joe came while I was out of it, but I knew he had been here. He also did the teatime call. 
Medications and little natter of which U could take part. I like it when that happens.

I investigated what was available for my evening or morning meal in the fridge and freezer. There was much to choose from.
The fridage has never been fuller. This is due to my expert skills and ability to carry out, repeatedly; 
after . By way of doing food orders that I can’t even remember doing. Usually, I end up throwing food I can’t afford to away weekly. As I cleaned the microwave, I often started one job and went on to another, forgetting the original designs I had started with.

Then, I wander off to do something else. The annoying part is when I realise I’d left the hot water tap running, the window open, the fridge door open, even the oven left on – in any combination! I once did them all on the same day. The hot water tap twice!
Sure enough, I wandered off and decided to open a can of water chestnuts, slice them up, and add them to three jars: one of pickled mushrooms, one of sweet and sour sauce, and one of black bean sauce.
I mixed and shook the jars and put them back into the fridge. Then, I had to nip sharpishly to the . A affair.
I cleaned things up.

Then, I returned to the computer to continue my Ode Creating task, which is one of my favourites!

CONTINUED...
An hour or so later, I felt doubts come over me. Thinking I may have left the hot tap running, I checked the wet room and kitchen. 
All was good with the taps… but I’d left the fridge door open! .
The fridge had spewed out water down the freezer below onto the floor. Cleaning it up, I could smell vinegar. Huh!
One of the jars I’d just made up had a crack! Fancy that, I suppose I must have caused it; I recall struggling to get the mushroom and chestnut jar into the fridge. I moved it to the top shelf.
I had to clean each shelf in the fridge, the inner of the door, the outer of the freezer door, and the floor!
. I cannot believe today’s rate of mistakes, Whoopsies, Accifauxpa, cock-ups and sheer bad luck!
I was well weary, depressed, self-condemned, and self-denigrated. Self-disparagement. Self-ridiculed. “I’m afflicted with a proclivity for self-criticism whereby every blemish is revealed in all its unredeemed ugliness.” Angry at myself too!
It’s not easy mopping and hoovering with the stick, mop, bucket, and hoover, especially in my current state: back angina, Glaucoma Gladys fading, and fogging my eyesight. Which is typical for this time of day. Usually starts to fade around 17:00hrs

STILL CONTINUING...
I got back to the computer. Again, the fear that I’d left something wrong in the kitchen made me investigate.
Nothing was left on or open.
However, I had still not cleaned the microwave. As I moved it to clean underneath, I found these tablets.
Wonder how long they’ve been under there.
The tablets got me looking at some from the medical draw to identify them. They were clean-looking. I didn’t get around to cleaning the microwave! I must have lost similar tablets before cause this photo above was found on file, showing the worktop under the microwave. Angst and depression increased!

I am so tired and frustrated, and at this moment, I am full of pathetic self-pity and something awful!
I did not want to make anything to eat until the last Carer call. I’ll have to go at the WP reader & comments until he/she arrives.

Carer Ahmed came. Socks off, painkillers given.
I won’t attach the night catheter bag because I will cook a meal. I just hope it lets me use it in the morning. Cheers!

I got the photo to go on late Monday morning.
MONDAY MORNING: What a start that was!
One for the annuls of medical history!
Worth reading. You might not believe it…
But it was how it went for the first two hours.

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TTFNski, Each!
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Inchy: Friday 4th April 2025

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Be aware that in indiscretion,
You may get a mental collision,
Which can cause self-derision,
Messing up your neurotransmission,
And, without your permission!
Ailments have no obluctation,
You feel that they get oblectation,
You visit your neurosurgeon…
Is life a pseudo-hallucination?
All of our lives are in regression,
You’ve lost your retrocognition,
PN, DVT, no prognostication,
Pharmageddon via your medication?
First Diarrhorea, & next constipation,
Confidence dies, feeling a pigwidgeon,
You think your brain’s an odditorium,
And life has got to be ordalian,
Do you feel different? Quotidian?
Is your social life in desolation?
Struggling with conceptualisation?
Are you livelier, antemeridian?
At noon, do you feel weather-beaten?
Do you get afternoon exhaustion?
Is tea-time your kipping season?
In bed, you can’t sleep for some reason?
Is mental fatigue the causation?
Or is it your body’s erosion?
Does the world seem dystopian?
Suffer from sanitary & sanity deterioration?
This is often just an old-age condition,
Do you think an interruption, a disruption?
Have you yet visited a psychometrician?
Does Earth need a reconceptualisation?
Do you believe in reincarnation?
Don’t expect a new life to be utopian!
Holidaying in the toilet or the Caribbean?
Has life been riddled with Damnification?
Was it spent in the lower echelon?
Do you suffer self-expostulation?
Do you know Earth’s nearing extinction?
This is not a joke or effutiation…
On this, I stake my reputation,
Do you feel an antiquarian?…
Well, don’t; it might cause acerbation!
It’s now time for an epiphenomenon,
Use your brain & nervous system…
Admit your guilt, write a eulogium,
Shout from Earth’s highest fastigium,
Humankind’s end is undoubtedly not an illusion,
We’ll all be free of intimidation…
Wars, murders, Oligarchs, every politician,
The greed, hatred and the odium,
Dead, we’ll all be egalitarian!
No way get a world-peace installation,
Well, this is my prediction…
It won’t bear too much contradiction…
Life’s events timewise, socialisation…
Birth, drugs, sex, physician, mortician,
Even if this gives you the impression…
That I’m suffering from depression!
It’s good to see the back of discrimination!
I believe this is mostly speculation…
Of course, it’s all theorisation,
Moulded to bring frivolity & jollification!
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05:20hrs: I rose fumblingly from the hospital bed, trapping the nocturnal catheter bag on the remote bed adjuster, and gave Little Inchie a hell of a tug. This started Inchies’s fungal lesion bleeding; it bled on the quilt, down my leg, and onto the carpet. 
After I sorted out the mess, I went to the wet room to empty and wrap the catheter pouch that had been removed.
After months without a stubbed toe, I gave myself a second one in two days, on the same ingrowing toenail, as yesterday.
Then, I took a regulation photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window. Well, I got two.
This is one of a man and his dog walking into the tree copse over the road, the dog’s tail wagging furiously. A double dose of jealousy affected me. Haha! First, I wished I had a cat or dog for company; second, I missed my beloved, unable to do a daily walk through the copse. (Feeling a smidgeon sorry for myself now.)

Luckily, next, I had just nipped into the wet room to check I’d not left any taps running and found  again. I’d run out of the cortisone cream. So I cleaned it and used some of the Germolene instead. Then, I returned to the kitchen and took another photograph of the broad view on offer.
Red sky in the morning,
Shepherd’s warning!

A bit of a marathon this morning. Bled a little more, I tipped over the bowl I was putting on the floor to stand in while shaving. Bending down to clear up the mess, and
flowed again! I finished shaving and got the PPs on.
I also touched up the Fungal Lesion, using the acne & eczema cream this time. I’d searched the medication drawers and found a partly filled tube of a different name. But it had a use-by date on it of… Hard to believe, I know, that it’s November 2019!

Carer Joe did the first call. I forgot to mention that Friday was the change-the-catheter bag day.

I booted the computer, an spent the nexy three hours farting about trying to get the photos to save to file. I did the first four, and there was no problem. Then it stopped saving. The usual cCleaner routine; I had to do it six times today! That didn’t help. So, I turned everything off and back on again. That proved an idiotic thing to do, well, not that actually, but forgetting to save the ode I was partway through writing was stupid!

At least it wasn’t so bad—up until now, anyway. Things took a dip after the young girl Carer called on her visit.  
I was still trying to sort out CorelDRAW and the photos, and a series of kicked off that stayed on and off for a good three hours. This threw me out altogether. With my concentration gone, I managed to get some photos backed up later, but I had to delete the ones used and replace them with the new ones, so to put it. Now, the only copies left are on WordPress, and they can’t be copied or saved for use on the blog or email. I’m not sure if I was heartbroken, frustrated, or I was momentarily leaning towards suicidal.freezer 08When the Iceland order arrived, I only took one photo of the whole fridge. I didn’t bother taking more because I knew the chances of using them lay within the corrupt power of my old, in-need-of-help, ailing, terminally ill computer.
I got some stuff I can’t remember ordering. And somehow I believed I’d ordered some tinned baked beans and tomatoes, none came. It will be better when Carer Joe starts helping with the food ordering. I can’t be relied on, know it, and am incapable of anything that involves numbers, dates, concentration or logic. 

The Social Services lady rang to ask how the new Carers were doing. Last week, I wondered if there was any chance of help getting me out shopping rather than the mistake-ridden online routine. The Carer said his boss said no chance. But the Social Lady told me they are giving me an extra hour (Still got to pay for, of course) for domestic and/or shopping assistance. Going slowly senile is a horrible thing, cause you know it, don’t want it, and can do nothing about it. I suppose it’s a little bit like my sex life, nonexistent. Hehehe!

Carer Ahram made the last two calls. He was in a good mood, bless him. The communication was complex, but I like the lad. When she rang, I told the Social lady that he’s likeable and willing. Without Carer Joe, I might have cracked up last week. His help was invaluable to me. 

I did notice that when someone came and I put in the repaired hearing aids, I could hear the wall clock ticking and other sounds I could not recognise. Haha!

By the time I finished the meal, it was past midnight. Three oven-baked bacon cobs. This is a terrible photo. I wish I had not bothered with taking it now! Getting this onto the blog took me over two hours in the morning! Saturday’s blog will be a smidge bland. I just can’t keep spending all this time getting the photos saved to file. As usual, the first two went on without a bother. The rest must have taken me hours and hours of repeated failed tries. This can’t go on. I openly beg someone to help me with the computer, please?
The trouble is that I can no longer understand written instructions and don’t know any computer jargon, and I get more confused.
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Sat-Sunday 29/30th March 2025

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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The Carer took shots of the much-improved Vasculitis-Vanessa’s right leg and ankle.
Improving nicely now.
Although the ankle is still resistant. I decided not to ask the lad to put any squabs or bandages on tonight.
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I had a good meal last night. I gave it a 9/10. As I watched the Brighton v Nottingham Forest FA Cup Match, Sister Jane reminded me of it being on TV when I phoned her. While eating and watching the match, I kept falling asleep. Dagnab it! But the Carer came and woke me up, then the surgery telephoned me. Then the water alarm activated. Then I had to empty the catheter contraption, return to the chair, and doze off while the match was on. I decided to give up. I was just too tired, and I thought I might get a decent night’s sleep in for once. Hahaha!
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>>>>><<<<<
>>>>>Starmer Ode No.325¼<<<<<
He’s a Scrooge-like abrogator…
Cut fuel help for every pensioner,
A Labour Party principles nullifier,
Ignores the core values of Labour,
Fuel and food prices get higher,
He takes many an illegal backhander,
Proletariats’ futures looking bleaker,
Takes the maximum self-paid bonsella,
Checking MPs’ expenses is not on his agenda!
I worry for Keir’s mental-cenesthesia,
As he seeks freebies at his many colloquia,
He may not be farceur, but he is farcicaler,
Politically, a liar, deluder, and deceiver,
A Labour supporters faith-severer,
The Labour voters own derogator,
What happened to nationalising power?
And British Rail’s return… he’s a fibber!
He’s Europe’s finest thimblerigger,
I would willingly handle his vivisepulture!
>>>>><<<<<
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Another repeated waking-up with jumps nights sleep. I had a long verbal and then physical tussle to convince the brain to get the reluctant body out of bed. This took a while and some discomfort.

My mind wandered as I sat there on the Throne. Tomorrow is the Audio Clinic appointment. I must prepare everything needed beforehand. The following shave was a bloodless affair. Yes!
Apart from forgetting to put the cream on my ankles, tummy, Germoloid groin, and grapefruit-sized right testicle and apply the eye spray, it all went well. Haha! Oh, I did stop the bleeding , and I used the ultra-stinging Terbinafine to stop the bleeding. Went back in the wet room to olive oil my earholes and other missed medicationalisationings. 

The young Caregiver arrived as I was finishing making up the waste bags. No leg bandaging needed. Joe issued the Medications. Then he checked the taps, fridge door, and stove and trotted off.

I turned on the computer and started this blog, then worked on the Ode for Tuesday in Word.

12:45hrs: I finally got the order to transfer, but now the photos are not being moved!

I’ll keep trying and surviving, and possibly start crying!

FOOTBALL ON TV
The Carer arrived. He said he would look at my emails later tonight.
WEIRD SEIZURES: This did not happen due to sudden fatigue. Not a seizure as such. I nodded off and woke repeatedly until 03:15 hrs, when I suddenly woke up and stayed awake. I was in a confused picklement. No memory of a carer calling, but they had been because they’d fitted the nocturnal night bag, and I could taste the Warfarin. The last call, I remember bits of, the diabetic socks coming off, I think I may have dropped the tablets. One was on the carpet when I eventually got up.

Piccies that I managed to save later.
Not sure if the day is right.
I think it was an afternoon shot, so I must have got up sometime after the fatigue set in.
I’m not sure if I got the meals in order.

The Weirdest Day of March!
Sensations like never before. The sudden falling of fatiguedness, so few seizures (as I recognise them). 
I genuinely think I nodded and woke dozens of times throughout the late afternoon, night & morning.
I somehow felt only weary, yet not overly tired or exactly poorly. Manifested mightily and toyed with my brain throughout. It was a bizarre, eerie, idiosyncratic, schismatic, almost other-wordly insanity-inviting day!
Half in depression – half in la-la land.

Loosing My Grip on Life’s Sinking Ship!
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But I’ll not give up… Oh, No! (Well…) Hehe!

Inchy Today: Saturday 29th March 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Seizures increased – Falls decreased!
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ODE WRITTEN MIDST MULTI-SEIZURES
I’m awaiting my next seizure, unobjectively,
Hoping for a mini-one, prejudicially,
But to me, even more essentially…
Depression’s bothersome, fundamentally,
The crux of the matter, that drives me potty,
It can be instant or come on accretionally,
The reason & cure leave me in abstrusity,
I get the feeling of being blameworthy,
Self-hating, ashamed, definitely guilty!
>>>>><<<<<
I can last for minutes or a marathon,
My neurotransmission can worsen,
They’re in the hands of the neurosurgeon,
But who can help with my depression?
Or is that too hopeful or a silly question?
I’m developing self-opprobrium,
Life’s a struggle, a daily ordalian,
Depression hits, I change into a chameleon,
Into a terrible bellyacher, curmudgeon!
>>>>><<<<<
Depression Duncan brings inner-anger,
He’s a sulking, self-pity, inferiority inflictor,
A mind-impinger, thought blocker…
A Peace, rest, concentration inhibitor,
I can’t help but to feel I’m inferior,
Depression Duncan, so frustrating… Grrr!
Comes & goes at his leisure…
No reason or logic whatever,
I’ll not be free of him until I pass over!
>>>>><<<<<
Will Duncan still be with me (shiver)?
That’s the first thing that I’ll inquire,
When I’m interrogated by St Peter?
I hope not; I don’t know the answer,
It’s peace that I need to acquire,,
I’ll cope with Anne Gyna & PN Peter.
Not Depression Duncan’s hellfire!
Death for me has just one bother…
Will I go to Hell with Starmer?
>>>>><<<<<
After five hours of waking up from broken sleep, I nodded back off for another full hour. I woke up with depression—Duncan in full flow. It took a few hours for him to give up getting at me. When I rang Sister Jane about the Nottingham Forest Cup Match being on BBC 1, I realised he had gone.
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After over an hour of Ccleaning, deleting photos and graphics, the computer allowed me to save what I’d done on CorelDRAW and pictures from earlier. I came across this snap of a meal—with grading already done. Fair enough. I’m not precisely sure what day it was from because when I deleted the photos to make space, I got in a tangle timewise with them. I think it was yesterday or thereabouts. It was almost certainly taken this year.
I remember not cooking the lamburgers anywhere near enough, but thought I had, but no. I’m beginning to feel it was last night now, but…

The clock calendar was changed; better late than never. Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed.

Messy!

Again, but only for a couple of hours, after the Carer’s firsr visit, Duncan departed, and took over for an hour, or so, until once more and profound depths of misery and an uncontrollabe irascibility, self-petulance and testiness, were suffered. Deeper than yesterday’s, I think. But then, how would I know in my state?
Care Joe removed the dressing from the right knee’s wound and then put a fresh one on for me. It’d been leaking thinned blood(lymph fluid, I assume). I’ll inform the district nurses on Monday. Why does this always start on a Saturday?

After the Carer’s second call, I took snaps of the view from the kitchenette window.
Straight ahead
To the right, catching the balcony
To the left, with darker clouds

Not well, bleeding and seizure have really kicked off.
I’ll do a catch-up, hopefully tomorrow.
I’ll call for help now.
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TTFN
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Inchy Today: Sunday 2nd March 2025

/ Inchie / 19 Comments

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THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES!
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The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
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Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution!
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I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance!
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What a fantastic dream I had last night!
I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it…  David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake.   
Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.

As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg.  
I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down. 
I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier. 
The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth.
I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy.
The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.

I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer.
I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times.
I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.

The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed.
It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes…
 Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!

Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet.
My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.

.
I had about an hour of horrendous pains from .
Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance…
As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on 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 hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!

A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards.
Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.

There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.

Time to get a meal.
This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .

I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.

Not feeling good at all in the morning.

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DDDD DAWNED
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Acci-Whoopsies Sat 8th Feb 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

HAVE A GREAT DAY
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– ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
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Do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do
Do, do-do-do
I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain,
What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again,
I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline,
The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin,
Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place,
Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face,
I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again,
Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane!
Dancing, laughing at the pain
I’m happy again…
I’ll cope and smile at the pain,
I may flinch cause the pain is a bane!
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There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. 
I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.

Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. 
The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.

Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay.
2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before.
3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned.
A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me!
At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! 
. Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea…  Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening.
I’ve had better mornings!

Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment.
There I go, moaning again. Tsk!

I got the computer on the go.
By Gawd, it’s going so slow.
But so was I, like an armadillo.
Then I got rumbling below…
Back to the wet room I went!
I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! !
Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now.
However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through.
A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, 
thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind.
Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them.
Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha!
Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. 
I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!

Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥

Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?

Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.

Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.

I updated this blog up to here.
And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea.
This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.

Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.

The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!

Then, I sorted out a meal.
But this one wasn’t!

I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. 
Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner.
Constantly waking up with either  or pains twinging away.

A painful day and night today!

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Evening… or, Morning Each

 

Inchy: Unbelievable Tuesday 4th February 2025

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

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– – – HELP FOR ALL! – – –
There’s usually a thought worth thinking…
Until a problem arrives, more demanding,
Though factors currently depending…
On seriousness, practicality & spending,
Earlier plans may need synchronising,
The original idea may need some tweaking…
Options left available may leave you seething,
Chances of success may be receding?
Can you see where this ode is leading?
Your intentions may be beyond solving,
But you’ve got me sympathising,
You must be realising…
I do not want to be scaremongering,
Needs, desires, once so promising,
Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising,
If possible, they need reorganising,
These failures will be nauseating,
Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening,
No need for any self-admonishing…
Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing…
We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing,
I’m pretty good at motivating…
You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing!
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06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻 

Then things started to get farcical!
The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working.
JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. 
They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery.
I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time!
The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed.
This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows!
Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘

Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!

Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.

Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card.
I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour.
If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in Porc failedan unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!

The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?

The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.

Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.

I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.

Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting.
A wide shot, the top one.
Pretty really!
I zoomed in to get a close-up.
Strangely, this one came out alright, too.

The next job was to get something to eat.
Which I did.
Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault!
I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! 
Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! 
I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!

Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.

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SO FAR THIS YEAR…
A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost! 
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly!
The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular!
I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems.
Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent.
Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups.
Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time?
Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. 
Can’t get any help!
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I am struggling all around, losing ground…
Things going wrong… others compound,
Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned…
The end is high; I’ll be bound!
I’m sick of being flatbound.
The sanity I once foreowned…
Has departed, and I’m all alone,
With help, my confusion to unconfound…
For solutions to confusion, I toss around,
But my brain is now thought-barren ground,
Ever more problems to confound…
Will I take them with me to my burial ground?
Frustrations are just grinding me down!
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KEEP SAFE, FOLKS!
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Inchy: Saturday 1st February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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My situation could be described as delicate,
So many concerns it’s hard to navigate…
Worsened by not being numerate,
Although I’m not yet nonliterate,
I talk to myself, and how do I reciprocate?
My cerebrum needs to reorchestrate,
If Doreen Dementia would only vacate,
Maybe then, I’d no longer verbigerate?
The norovirus is making me ululate,
I still cannot manually voluntarily urinate!
My confidence & abilities absquatulate,
Hopes, plans & desires are all abirritate,
Needs that vary every hour assimilate…
Single thoughts, problems, will bifurcate,
It’s my personal choices that I berate,
I’m getting myself into the right state…
At 10 o‘clock, I could self-strangulate,
Complete shame, disgust, and self-hate,
Depressions by the hundredweight,
11 o’clock, I’m impossible to humiliate!
My worries, & fears, I did incarcerate,
The Enoxaparin, which I did inoculate,
Which left me with some stomach-ache,
But I was worry-free to compensate…
Others, worse off, I was compassionate,
Twelve noon, my joy did regenerate,
Up & down, it’s hard to hariolate…
Then flow-back came from my prostate,
This time, I reacted not as an ingrate…
Lots of folks have more worries on their plate,
The ailment with which I have to cohabitate,
Leaves me confused, incoherent & inchoate,
These good moments may well be inquorate…
But they are so precious, mate…
My situation, as of now, is not so delicate!
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Great Results This Week!
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After hours of complete failure to sleep, I gave up and got up at 04:00hrs. I kept changing from the bed to 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, and back again.

There was not a lot in the nocturnal catheter pouch. But it was a beautiful colour even if it was too dark on the NHS colour scale (It was a 7). Note that this indoors-set shot hid the blotch very well on the black bit!

I got the waste bag to the doorway, then went to take some morning snaps from the kitchenette window. It felt bitter cold as I opened the window. Then, I had to change my plans again. The innards indicated it would be wise to visit the Porcelain Throne. So, I did!

Yet again, it was a close call that I got to the and seated in time!
The evacuation couldn’t have taken 30 seconds at most – but the follow-up motions, which were all liquid, took much longer to escape. I dared not move until I was as sure as I could be that they had finally finished coming. The cleaning up of my muscular, firm, lithe little rear end took me ages. Then, the Porcelain cleaning and deodorising had to be done.
The medicalisationings had some moments of humour. Is that the correct word to use? 
1: Taking off the PPs, as I tore down the seam, I caught the top catheter gripper with my broken fingernail; this caused me to tug at the tube stuck down the poor and now painful . Naturally, the blood flowed out all down my leg and foot and onto the wetroom carpet and floor. Naturally, the pain didn’t bother a man of my youthful calibre; I did not swear, spit, or howl out. Although the cleaning up and all the bending kicked off , it really annoyed  .
Of course, I just laughed it off!

Anne Gyna’s pains were not on at this stage, which was very welcome. After about an hour of cleaning up the mess, I continued with the medicationalisationings. Harold’s haemorrhoids were Germaloided. The colossal belly folds, underarms, and back fat  were barrier-creamed. Then I did the eye drops and spraying.

2: I got the olive oil dropper to do the earholes next. I assume I had not cleaned the barrier cream off my hands properly; The bottle shot out of my hands, hit the wall, bounced back to fall on my toe nail, with the oils spread all over me, then the floor I’d just cleaned! I saw the funny side, and I did laugh!

3: Now joined in the grief & agony-giving party of ailments. I cleaned up the blood again.
  4: With more bending and pulling, it opened up again. Humph! I take these , and in my stride, you know.

Hours after my first attempt, I got snaps of the morning view.
A sort of brownie-green hue to go with the 07:50hrs photographs taken?
I tried a closer-in shot of Cavendish Vale. That’s the road with the suspiciously first snow-melting roof tiles on the left of this picture. Hehe!

Carer Precious made the 08:25 and 11:25 hrs calls of the day. He tried to sort a camera out for me, but it beat him. It was nice of him to try to get it to work for me, anyway.

I got on with updating the blog. Soon got it posted. Shame about all the time lost in the wet room farcicalness, else I might have caught up with it. Har-Har!

Carer Joanne called to collect the hand washing for me. She’d been off a long time with the Nocovirus Flu. She’s not back to her normal self yet, and it showed, bless her. ♥

I was annoyed with CorelDraw again, and the computer went so slow that I feared the worst! However, after CCleaning it, it got a smidge better—but not on CorelDraw.

I got the ode done and dusted for tomorrow – yes! In front, at last, I thought. Until I realised that I had not completed all of the templates. Then I recalled having a series of frequent but short bursts of the other day and must have thought I’d done them. So, back to catching up again.

I took a snap through the kitchenette window. The top right is a gloomy-looking view, complete with ‘the ‘Persistent Blotch’ showing. It’s easier to hide when taking night shots cause the blotch blends in the darkness and is less conspicuous. 

The waste bags had not been taken to the rubbish chute yet. So, I took them to the rubbish chute. On my way back after depositing the bags down the tube, it gave way. No tumble or fall, though, just pain. Hehe! I smiled at it and whistled as I hobbled back to the flat. 

Around 16:00hrs, the Co-op food delivery arrived. I’d stocked up with the cheesy bread rolls. I’m rather partial to these. I also got some ready-made beef and caramelised onion sandwiches. It was not cheap, but I was feeling idle and tired and had no sleep lately. I added some cooked smoked bacon, chicken thighs, German smoked cheese, & sliced tomato to the sarnie and overcooked battered onion rings. Well, I like them browned a little. Salted the sliced tomatoes. Nice! Complete with semi-hidden blotch! A different Carer did the last two calls.

I’m getting miffed about not getting any sleep in. I watched the football highlights, then nipped through the channels to find something to watch. I moved from the bed back to 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. But it made no difference to the sleep deprivation until I turned off the TV at 03:00hrs. Sometime then, I nodded off! Yes! Waking up coughing and sneezing at 04:00hrs!

I gave up and got up!

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CHEERY-BYE!
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