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Another bit of fracas mentally, today. 
The split views on this computer are a smidge beyond my comprehension. If ever I get the time, I’ll look up advice on Google. Or, if the computer is in its do-as-it-likes mode, it might be Yahoo that comes up. Grrr! Hope I can understand the instructions, should I actually find any.
I foolishly, but of course, this seems standard for me nowadays. Started Monday’s blog, forgetting I’d not finished Sunday’s yet. Me, feeling a fool? Of course I do.
I’d better make a start on it. Back later or in the morning.
I’m back, as Arnie said. Getting late now, I’ll do what I can, computer obliging, and get caught up in the morning. At least I’ve got yesterday’s bog done and sent off.
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Monday, so I lose good Carers until next Saturday. I asked him to help me wash my feet. He did. I asked him to make a brew of tea, which he did. Red hot this morning, gave him an iced drink and an iced cream.
I bagged my lower back on the door handle going out of the door. Arrgh! I discovered that the nurse who moved the bed to have his last try at getting the Catheter tube back in Little Inchy yesterday had left it too near the door, and it didn’t give as much room. No problem, I just howled, swore and asked the Carer to see if I’d bruised myself. There is nothing worse than getting banged and it hurting so much, and finding no scar or bruise to show for sympathy. Haha! 😄
I think I have had a few times on the computer. Acidic taste reflux, and I was made so many mistakes, it was taking ages to reread and correct. I hope I’ve caught them all.
Then things got scary, although not as depressed as yesterday, it was still hard going. I suppose I may have fallen asleep and not had the seizures, but I will never know with no one to see me and my  exhibition.
It happened so often.
Something was amiss, cause I could read only about 10% on the scribbles on the memory notepad.
Must have missed no end of stuff off.

In the late afternoon, pain was coming from the Kidney Kid, left side, but not from the bladder or the Catheter area? But bearable this time.
The photos brought back some memories.
A Carer noted, when helping me wash my feet and take off my socks, that the bottom scab came off with the sock and bled a bit. Very light blood, not that I know what this does or doesn’t indicate. I asked him to put a plaster on it for me, which he did.

Apart from the back, Little Inchy was still sore from yesterday’s marathon attempts to get the Catheter back into poor Little Inchy’s lesioned hole.
A flipping good job that I put on the Protection Pads when I did my teeth, shaved and a stand-up wash. I’ve still not had a shower for I reckon at least three weeks now.
I was frustrated with my mistakes on the new computer, took a voluntary break, and put the last of the nurses’ nibbles and treats on the Carer’s table.
I must admit, CorelDraw, so hated, swore and yesterday, I thought I was going to give myself another stroke, was only toying with playing up today, the highlight of this Bank Holiday Monday for me!
Is this good luck? It was a very strange sensation!
In the late afternoon, I went to make up some soup for tonight’s meal. Vegetables with added canned peas and chopped boiled potatoes. Adding Teryaki sauce.
Leaving it to marinate and stirring the dish throughout the rest of the day. Slurp!
Then I took this snap of the boiling-hot sun through the kitchen window. Then this rather pretty photograph shows the front car park, the bottom field, and some of the local Sherwood residences.
Half an hour later, I returned to the kitchen to stir the marinating can of vegetable soup, a feast fit for anyone with a fading bank account, failing health, dimming hopes, no pain medication other than Paracetamol, and depression.
While in there, the sky had changed, but the sun was still getting through; as you can see, it had changed somewhat.
Checked the emails and comments, then heated the prepared meal. Email confusion straight away, need help on that… what don’t I need help with… what do I get help with…
Back in the morning, oh, no, this is yesterday’s blog. I must finish it somehow. I’ll tell you about things in the next one.
Back to Email and then comments and reader, then I must get to bed. I’ve confused myself now.
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Good Morning, Tuesday now and catching up on a few happenings to tell you of.
The evening meal brings a touch of comfort to you, doesn’t it? Usually, this one, now I’m back on canned and packaged foods. It was a can of so-called chunky vegetable soup, with some teriyaki sauce and Bovril added, along with some boiled and sliced potatoes, also from a can. I kept stirring this as it marinated in the microwave dish for a good few hours, and several times over the day. I defrosted some bread to dunk in the juices. It took a while to get the pots washed as I pondered on what score to give them taste-wise. I think I’d opted for 6.5/10, as an evacuational motion began from the rear end. I dropped the dishcloth and pot and tore off my thin dressing gown in my unsteady, disabled stampede to the Porcelain Throne.
SPLURT SPLATT, ALL DONE!
I somehow got part of the premature pebble-dashing torrent on the mat, floor, testicles (don’t ask, I don’t know how), legs, feet, on top of the floor cabinet. Even some specks on the outside of the sink! When cleaning it all up as best I could, I swear there was a greeny-brown sliver of Trotsky Terence’s activities on the wall! I know the spurt started just before I could reach the seat with my bottie… so how could all the areas possible have been affected?
Washed myself up last with Dettol in the water, and realised that the hot tap water wasn’t; it was barely warm. I realised far too late, after spending I don’t know how long trying to make things right in the wetroom, what must have happened.
I hastily hobbled to the kitchenette, to find I was right, I’d left the hot water faucet on when I departed in my semi-panic!
I can usually find the right words without repeating myself to describe any of my frequent Whoopsiedangleplops or Calamaties, but I am struggling now.
Frustration, Depression, Pathetic Self-Pity, and Angst that is bigger than my bulging belly!
Then I spotted that the Catheter was not filling!
I quickly went back to check the wetroom for anything I’d missed, grabbed a 1-litre bottle of Soda water, and added a drop of grapefruit juice as my attention dwelt on this worrying Catheter faux-pas, with fears of bladder, kidney, and Catheter pains starting again. With no decent painkillers available other than Paracetamol. A darned good job tha Jenny read about this and gave me some. 🤎 Better than Paracetamol by a mile, but not as good as the ’ones the hospital gave me for my kidney problems. I found out they had stopped them permanently. There must have been a good reason. But will they restart the Codeines now? Not according to the Carer. Baffled, and in pain! Still, the Doctor may find time now that the Bank Holiday is over to reply to my three email requests for stronger painkillers, sent last week.  
Do I believe this? You decide!

Incidentally, my end-of-life cremation is paid for. I got it through Age UK years ago. I’ve got the details, and then when I snuff it, it won’t cost the Government or anyone to burn me.
Paid Funeral. Baguley brothers.
Prepaid with Age Concern. Now, Age UK No.15511624 
It may be advisable to warn the Obergruppenfürher at the cremation oven that my kidney and bladder may possibly explode in the heat and splatter them with my kidney germs. bacteria, viruses, and parasites. My poor battered bladder’s 
bacterial Escherichia coli.

I’d also appreciate it if someone could give my once-visited Neurologist a message for me, as sarcastically as they can, please: Give him my NHS Number, and say;
Inchie felt he just had to leave his thanks and appreciation for all the help, compassion, and concern you had not shown him during the one visit he made. You remember when he got lost on the way up in the lift? No? He’s not surprised. When you told him to send him a video of him having a seizure, so you could ascertain what type it was, before prescribing any medication. He agreed. This was in November 2025. You failed to give him your email address. He had several Carers ringing the QMC to find the right address. Finally, his Carer, Ejaz, got through, and a Carer took a video of the old, unwanted git in a seizure, and he emailed it to you. November 2025. In no time at all (April 2026), he got a letter from the committee that had seen and analysed the video. Telling him it was not an Epileptic seizure, as he told you at the 7-minute meeting he had with you, do you remember?
No, of course not. A busy, efficient young man like you must be in great demand.
He’d like to remind you, from wherever he’s gone, to be a burden to someone else; Do you recall me (Inchie) saying they were not epileptic fits, cause I was in the same position as I was before going into one?
Bless your compassion, patient care and dedication.
If possible, he will return with a 24-hour pass from St Peter so he can further explain, express how he feels about his treatment, and make some more suggestions.
A druid’s curse, or glam dichenn, was an ancient Celtic malediction. Druids were historically known to stand on one foot, place one hand on their head, and close one eye while chanting vengeance. Just mentioning this.
I’d appreciate that, thanks.
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Today was even more hectic.
Horrible, horrendous & for all the regular reasons.
The Computer… Corel Draw… causing the worst Depression I’ve ever had. Leaving taps running, dropping things. The wobbles and another tumble!
Within four minutes of getting up…
Stayed with me throughout the day, as more problems arose, with a mass of outstanding ones not yet sorted!
Two problems with the Bank – Showerless for two weeks.
The increase in Carer Charges per month is nearly £300.
Nothing sorted about the running out of Oxycodone medications. Or if I can still get them.
Computer man, away on holiday.
Can’t get to order food from 4 supermarkets, or Amazon.
The computer is losing signal on and off all day! Shutting itself down five times. When I open Google, I either get a different layout, giant patches, or… Yahoo open!
CorelDraw froze six times. When using CorelDraw, if I touch one of the other open icons below, CorelDraw just goes off…
Four Times it did this, and I lost the work I’d done, and had to start over again! The last time it did it, I’d just managed to save it first… Then it froze again!
A lousy day again!
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I got up at 04:00hrs, emptied the sparsely filled night pouch, and wobbled to the wet room for the first visit of the day to the Porcelain Throne. It needed an entire roll of wallpaper… No, toilet tissues, on the first and second visits, within five minutes of each other. I had three more trips to the Porcelain Throne in the afternoon. Not only can I not afford any tissues, but I also don’t know how to get them. Darned good job that I stocked up when I had the cash (before paying for the crap computer, and the Carer Fees nearly doubling), and when I could order food online with the old, but ‘Must-be-placed’ computer. I bet they are laughing at sucker me. Gullible? Yes, that’s the word.
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It is now 23:20hrs. And I’m getting painful flowback from the  Catheter and kidneys. Guzzling so much water, I feel intoxicated. No urine has got into the pouch for an hour ot more. Mu’s lower stomach is extended. I have no painkillers to take. I’ve been trying to beg the Carers to help. The first step is to email the Doctor. I did five days ago, and did not get a reply. I am struggling with the pain badly now, as it builds up the more water I drink in the hope of getting it flowing again. I’ll try to keep doing the blog, though. But it will not be good from here on. If I publish it unfinished, it’s because it might be my last one. Just been told by my EQ. No time to check it properly, just accepting Grammarly suggestions ot save time.

Good heavens, Grammarly has 28 errors to tell me of; I’ll just accept them. Such pain is building up. No urine in the pouch yet, oh, dear. Flipping ‘eck, 7 errors on the above two lines. I’ll get the photos on, and what I can from what I’d planned, but will end up calling 111, who are bound to send a nonexistent ambulance for me. Oh, the memories of my last visits are coming back to me. Please flow urine. I keep taking gulps of water, but no urine is being produced. Feeling drunk now. I’ll press on.
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Out of painkillers, just when I need them most.
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Morning sunshine
Now, on the computer, I cringed when I typed that!
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Internet down
More trouble.
Huh!
Froze for the umpteenth time!
,

Now I am suffering too much.
Still no urine passing.
Experiencing increasing pain,
I may have to ring 111,
First, I’ll try the District Nurses’ number.

TTFN

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No amazing happenings this morning.
I’d just typed this in the blog, and something happened that got me overly concerned. I received a letter about my Cather Pouch Reflux. This is it, copied from it.

Urinary tract infections(UTIs)
UTIs caused by using a Catheter are one of the most common types of infection that affect people staying in a hospital. This risk is particularly high if your Catheter is left in place continuously. (The Carers should change the day weekly, but rarely do & I forget to ask them).

Symptoms of a UTI associated with using a Catheter
Pain low down in your tummy or around your groin.
a high temperature, feeling hot, cold or confused. I am aware and have suffered these.
Contact your GP or community nurse if you think you have a UTI. You may need a course of antibiotics.

Other risks and side effects: Bladder spasms, which feel like stomach cramps, are quite common when you have a Catheter in your bladder. The pain is caused by the bladder trying to squeeze out the balloon. You may need medicine to reduce the frequency and intensity of the spasms. The Nurse told me there was nothing that could be done about the Catheter reflux when I asked her.
Leakage around the Catheter is another problem associated with indwelling catheters. This can happen as a result of bladder spasms or when you poo. Leakage can also indicate that the Catheter is blocked, so it’s essential to check that it’s draining. Yes, I’ve had this problem twice, each time we found the tube taken from the Catheter was blocked with black Goo! The nurse said they would ask the Doctor to prescribe antibiotics. But none came.
Blood or debris in the Catheter tube is also common with an indwelling Catheter. This could become a problem if the Catheter drainage system becomes blocked. Get medical advice as soon as possible if you think your Catheter may be blocked, or if you’re passing large pieces of debris or blood clots. See the blue printing above.

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After returning to semi-consciousness, I lay there in a half-sleep mode for a good hour or more. My terrible memories from yesterday were playing, drumming away in my tormented mind. Had I known that the new, bafflingly confusing to an oldie like me, computer, MS Word, MS Snip, and the ever-playing-up Corel (Rotten) Draw were going to give me even more hassle and problems today, I may well not have bothered getting up again.
At one stage, I regretted doing so.
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At least the feet were far less swollen. It’s just the under-toe electric-like twangs that defeat everyone. Me included, naturally. Caring Carers Ejaz and Mizra, three different District Nurses, and even the window cleaner have each taken a look and can see nothing that may be causing the shocks. No marks, no reddening. Just yet another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Not to mention the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity of mind. Also, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Ménière’s disease, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Legs Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Iris, Cataract Katie, Sandra’s damned seizures, Back-Pain-Brenda, Arthur Itis, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Fractured Knee Frankie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Unwin’s Unguis Incarnates Ingrowing Toenail, Reflux Roger, Replacement Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine,  Hydrocephalus-Hilda, &  Toothache Tiffany. And my recently diagnosed TBI, Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD), which is causing Flowback-Agony with the Catheter-Contraption-Carol’s exit-tube being blocked.
The NHS sent me a note about this problem before it started happening: It read…
If your Catheter tube is blocked and not draining, it is a medical emergency. Immediately check that the tube is not kinked and the drainage bag is below your bladder. Do not attempt to flush the tube or remove it yourself unless specifically trained by your Doctor. There was a problem, the first time it happened, Carer Ejaz rang the District Nurses. Five days later, a nurse called.
The second time, I rang myself, and was not holding back on how painful it was. Two hours later, a nurse arrived. Got me on the bed (No, nothing like that. Hehe!), and decided to put a new contraption into Little Inchie with his bleeding, leaking urine through it as well, a fungal lesion. As she pulled out the tube and balloon, she showed me the black material blocking the tube. I asked whether it is likely to happen again. As you usually change the contraption about every four or five weeks, and did so a fortnight ago, why is it already blocked? Adding, can anything be done to prevent it, cause it was more painful than my heart operation was?
Not really, I have a few other older dears with the same problem. Well, that cheered me up a ton!
Still, yer don’t like to complain, do yer?
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I got carried away again there, sorry about that. It’s a combination of old age, senility, brain invaders, and depression, you know.
That’s my excuse.
Took these two snaps later in the morning. The clouds still held and showed me beauty. Why? Not sure?

My Angel Jenny told me what the flowers were called on the bushes out the front of the flats and near the tree copse. I miss walking through so much. Sad, innit?
I took this quick, zoomed-in shot of a lady with her baby and pet dog as they walked into the gap between the trees. I think I can still remember the smell in there. I miss it so much. Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer? Humph! Haha!

As I took these two photographs of the housing to the left of the kitchen window, I realised how few people were in the snaps. Also, the trees and bushes are coming back to full life, with growing greenery and a scent in the air. Then I passed wind and nobbled to the WC.
I emitted a lot of swishy, splattering multicoloured Trotsky Terence evacuation. I could not believe the range of colours it had in the basin.
Fair enough, I am colour-blind, I know, but I swear I could see reds, yellows, greens with streaks, similar to veins of a light blueish colour in the freshly released reminiscent of Irish stew, seeming to gurgle and wobble in the water.

Then the computer troubles started again. And did so all day. Some examples, unbelievable examples.
1: Throughout the day, until I’d had enough, Google lost connection four times, and I lost unsaved work every time.
The fancy Alien Font replaced a few of my typed words in the Gluten font. 2: Using the MS snip, and it froze as I selected the work to copy. Every programme used had this red outline box in front of the screen. 
3: MS Word fills the screen with gigantic buttons that leave little room to see the typing area.
4: On one Google opening, the Yahoo browser came on?
5: I got this message up again in a blank screen,
I’ve not the foggiest what it is all about, but then again, that in itself is not surprising to me, at least. This flipping whatever it is came up four more times?

Fed-up! But, I got fedderupperer later!
Just as I was taking the food from the slow cooker, to strain and serve it up… I managed with the greatest of ease, without any intent to have my right leg wobble, and dropped the hot Porcelain dish full of food, hitting my leg twice as it galloped on the way down, leaving this mess on the kitchenette floor.

They stung and left a little burning smell.
I had to leave the mess for the poor Carer to sort out, and rubbed some Germolene on the two tiny injuries. And waited for the last Carer call to arrive. I did get some plasters out in case they were considered to be of use by the Carer. An hour or so later, Carer Mizra arrived. He cleaned up my mess in the kitchen after giving me the medications. Helped me heat up the rearranged meal in the microwave and serve it.
Bless him. He had to rush off to his next call, which was difficult for the lad using buses.

I hobbled into the kitchen and washed the pots. Espying the lovely sky, which begged to be photographed.
So, I did.

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Today consisted of various upsets, problems, bothers, frustrations, periods of depression, moments of pathetic, and self-annoying self-pity. A couple of moments, mainly when the damned new Windows 11 was confusing, or the new CorelDraw 26 play-ups and anti-Inchie activities took so long to work out how to proceed, and in some cases were skirted around, without the slightest hope of my remembering how I got through that particular problem. Of course, each and every one would return later.
I was regularly self-distracted, not coping, confused, panicky, incapable, unlucky; even bewildered at times.
There were a few times that I felt almost blas’e, as I decided there was no point in going on. Convinced things are getting worse, harder, more difficult each and every day.
All I did for the majority of the day was struggle with the computer and clear accidental wet-room problems.
I think I just moaned about my problems to each Carer, and felt guilty after each grumble about my miserable, ever-failing, mental and physical lifestyle. 
I just read the above. I felt bad for writing it. Sorry!
But I’m sure I’m getting rather pitiable. I wish the Doctor would recognise my problems.
Then again, if she were to, it would mean being referred to the suitable department in the NHS. Wait for an appointment, as with the neurologist who took six months. Then I was assured a lift had been arranged back, but told to cancel the appointment as they cannot do a lift there. So if I were to live long enough to get help, I’d have to sort help from the Carers to arrange a lift, get the money to hand to pay for it there and back, then get me dressed on the morning of the day.
No, sod-it, not worth the bother & hassle.
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I’d shout for help. Is there any point in going on about my deteriorating confidence, interest, and increasing depression, frustration and increasing ailments? I believe things started affecting me mentally after the fall revealed the TBI. Two of my Carers have kept me going, and a feeling of concern has been shown. But they are coming less often now. So many people are far worse off than I. Hence, the guilt returns. I’ve not been this low before. By this afternoon or tomorrow, things may perk up? 😂
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Just thought I’d mention them. Hehe!
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FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD
A FEAST OF FODDER IN STOCK NOW!
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WATER AS WELL
AND THE OVERUSED TOILET PAPER
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