Memory Mangling Malcom

Inchy Today: Monday 28th April 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Teeth, physical and mental decay…
Tea for me, not spirits or Chardonnay,
An unnatural interest in doomsday…
Armageddon, & Heavens Gateway,
Not now and then, but every day!
And the seizures, causing mind disarray,
I spoke of these things earlier today…
To the Doctor, who showed no dismay,
She’ll send the Matron to see me one day,
A mid whirling away with quixotry,
I may be a visionary, but eccentrically,
Veering at times to idealistically, romantically,
I talk to myself morosely & querimoniously,
Questioningly, enquiry, feedback? Uncertainty,
How does my mind work? Well, wontedly!
Options & choices made unintentionally,
This realisation can bring on despondency,
I’m more interested in the pain from my weenie,
I’ve awaited the catheter bag job since Friday,
Carer ‘Joe’ did it yesterday, all nice and tidy,
I can now be called a Pfropfschizophrenie,
If this classification is given to me,
10 days wait, affected Little Inchie hurtfully,
And rear-end furuncle hurts excruciatingly,
Well, not really, there’s been no lachrymosity,
But unexpected signs of lugubriosity.
Mild depression and a hint of melancholy,
Depression Duncan & High Horis are legendary,
They rule my emotions alternatively,
Duncan’s visits seem to last an eternity…
High Horis’s calls are more synoptically…
Which is another thing that’s a pity,
Things to do hygienically, well, hyperbolically,
Just the furuncle to be doctored, ointmentedly,
Oh, I must not forget to medicate Little Inchie,
And give Gladys Glaucoma’s eyes a spray,
Then, empty my pouch of pee,
Then I might do a spot of gymnosophy,
Make food to satiate my gulosity…
Hello… Two visitors from the constabulary!
If not arrested, I’ll tell the story on Tuesday!
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MY MENTAL CHANGES!

Pre-morbid cognitive Impairment: Refers to cognitive deficits present before the onset of a particular illness or disorder, such as a psychotic disorder or dementia. It’s essentially an estimate of a person’s cognitive functioning before any known or suspected brain damage or dysfunction. Measuring pre-morbid functioning is crucial for accurately assessing the impact of a disorder on cognitive abilities, as it provides a baseline for comparing and evaluating the disorder’s effects. Regarding my mental assessments, I’ve had a few; here is a list for your reference.
2015: Vascular Dementia
2017: Diabetic Dementia
2019: Mixed Dementia.
2022: Posterior Cortical Atrophy 
2023: Cognitive Impairment
And now…
2025: Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment
I assume the nurse coming to ‘Do an assessment test’ may just be related to the latest Pre-Morbid version?
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Gone 17:00hrs Already.
Quickie from here on.
I got carried away with the Ode again! Of course, the Whoopsie & first aiding slowed me down.
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In short…
Graded later by Carer Ejaz.

A sit-down visit first
It only took me 20 minutes this morning.
ROCK SOLID!

ABLUTIONINGS
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 1:
Carer Ejaz did not mention the blood on my dressing gown and down my face and legs when he arrived. But midday Carer ‘Joe’ did five hours later. He wiped what he could and asked me how I managed to cut myself nine times. I had no answer. But we did have a bit of a laugh.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 2:
Moving the catheter pouch to clean it, I let it slip, and the weight of the urine caused… what can I call it? Well, agony as it tugged on Little Inchie! The blood flowed. The applying and rubbing in was painful. Then again, it always is.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 3:
I was pressing on with the teeth, then shaving, and almost finished when the blood dripped onto my man breasts! Tried the Brut aftershave to stem the flow. It was a smidge futile.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 4:
After finishing the cleaning and addressing various areas that needed medicating, I started applying the fresh PPS. I got the shakes as I was using the picker-upperer to raise them, Clanger! As I grabbed the stick, the wobble began. The prongs went straight through the material, hitting poor little Inchie right on the end and the fungal lesion. Agony did not cover the situation this time.
More medication, more hurt, and more frustration.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 5:
Then the pains started from Harold’s Haemorrhoids as well as the base furuncle!
I considered sobbing a little but didn’t bother.

As I came out of the wet room, I realised I’d been in there for an hour And a half as Carer Ejaz arrived.
He did not notice the bleeding head, neck or blood down my leg. And I’d forgot all about it too. Haha!..
I nipped into the wet room again to wipe some blood off. Of course, it came back on later.
Ejaz put the short diabetic socks on my legs. Then, he issued the prescription medications.

Photos taken, not many.
The end car park shot, just as yesterday, proved that we required rain… PPPlease!
I took this one through the kitchenette window. The shadows on the house were from the block of flats. The sun coming from behind.
Well, there was no blood when I checked on the legs now, so the furuncle and fugal lesions must have stopped. Carer ‘Joe’ did the midday call. He wiped the semi-dried blood from… wait for it… the top of my head! I don’t shave the head; no need to. He also noticed that I had cut a facial mole on my cheek and an earlobe.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 6:
I’d been on the computer toying with the Ode to try and get it something like I was hoping for. I took this photo of the calendar clock. I made a mug of Co-op 99 tea, I pressed on for another hour or more to finish it, but I wasn’t too happy with the result. I wished I’d left it as it was now. Made a mug of Glengettie tea
Getting back to the computer, I noticed the time on the clock was 07:35hrs? I can’t have been. I was in the wet room, crippling myself at that time. Then, being the youthful, educated, logical, keen, alert, conscientious person that I am… I checked the clock, and it was still showing the same time. Quick as lightning, I realised that the battery must have run out. Nae, problemo! I knew I got some… somewhere in the flat. The drawer that I knew I’d put them in was in the kitchen. I rummaged through it. No luck!
I went through all the drawers and cupboards in the kitchenette. No luck! They had to be in the main computer, bed, junk room then! To my joy, I espied a box of batteries on the top shelf. They’ll do for me, I said to myself, a broad enveloped my face.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 7:
As I reached up to grab the pack at full stretch, it gave way. I ended up in a little ruffled heap, landing on the crisp and nibbles box. Learning later that, I’d burst open three bags of crisps and a pack of cheese biscuits and bent the umbrella which was nearby. On the bright side, I used the umbrella to get me 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, and use it get back up on my feet. I sat there a few moments, stemming the blood trickling down from my must been hit in the accifauxpas nose and into my mouth. What next?

Aargh!

A Seizure-Ridden afternoon.
Although the evening got rid of them altogether.
I don’t know why or what the reason is for this.

I added a Milk Roll sliced loaf to tomorrow’s order from Sainsbury’s. You never know; they might have some in stock.

Carer ‘Joe’ made calls, and Carer Ejaz did one too.

Early Evening shots
Both were taken through the kitchen window.

Concentration Conrad was not interested in anything I did. This short Ode was done in the morning, and he was still playing me up.

WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 8:
As I was removing the hanging window dressing gown to block out the sun during the afternoon, I dropped the hanger.
It fell partly into the large jug of water I keep handy on the ledge. I grabbed it too quickly and knocked the jug of water off the ledge; down it went, watering my dressing gown that I was wearing, my socks, slippers and spread over the kitchen floor!
I believe that I may have cursed and swore!
Yes! I’m pretty sure!

After the last Carer’s call into bed, I did crawl.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 9:
I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter bag on.
Did I mention Concentration Konrad?
After the struggle to get out of bed and the nocturnal pouch attached to the day bag, it dawned on me that I’d taken the dressing gowns and put them in the laundry bag… but had not cleaned the mess in the kitchen up yet!
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP 10:
I didn’t particularly fancy doing the mopping up with the four-pronged walking stick and the mop and bucket in tow. However, if I removed the nocturnal bag to do the mopping, I would have to reconnect the tube afterwards. And the night pouches are famous in Inchy’s world for leaking if one connects, takes them off, and then puts them back on again. So, I got the four-pronged walking stick and the mop and bucket in tow and got the cleaning up done. I felt well-drained after that, and for a moment on the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner, I sat.
Zzzz!
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Morning, All!
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Inchy: Sunday 27th April 2025

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As my past mistakes are unretrievable,
Bad memory; some things unrepeatable,
My love of Odeing is restrainable,
Even if they do turn out unreadable…
My ailments: all are irremovable,
Humankind’s future: unimaginable,
Might it include something ufological?
Or unecological, unethical, likely political,
HMG’s gone abnormal, celestial, paranormal,
Living costs rising, workers panhandle,
Wars raging, oligarchs, behooveful,
Our PM, a greedy parasitic, barnacle,
Ministers are only self-beneficential.
Labour used to be social, democratical, 
Now they are Tories and demagogical!
Degenerate, corrupt, decadent, & cruel,
Their guilty deeds, open to construal,
Their faults are blatant, not circumstantial,
Keir is a blatant liar and criminal,
Misleading, deceptive, and casuistical,
Starmer is bifacial, if not trifacial…
His answers are quodlibetical…
His plans and actions are often quixotical,
His excuses for his lies are tarradiddle,
His plans either turn out theoretical,
Not that his MPs want to quarrel,
Quizzing Herr Starmer? Unthinkable!
He claims each morning, he eats eggs and quail…
Personally, I think he should go on trial,
It’s not that I want to moan or quibble,
But, for his actions & lies, he should be in jail,
With his history, he’d be good, juristical,
I suppose I’m sounding a little judgemental?
I think he’s plainly, justifiably, jailable!
Seriously, I’m not joking or being facetious!
I’d send him a daffodil or Jonquil,
Awaiting the return of The Jackal!
Obviously, politicians must be intrapreneurial,
Muslim, Christian, Jew or infidel,
Locking the git up would not be ideal,
No one else can lead the party, I feel,
Well, whoever, like him, would be funeral,
Parliament would turn phantasmagorical,
No change there, it’s always been farcical,
With the backhand takers, all fissilingual,
With their deceit, drivel and folderol!
I’d miss Herr Starmer’s verbal flummadiddle,
I don’t want to overdo it, make it dramatical,
Or make this Ode complicated or daedal,
I hope you find humour in this doggerel,
If not, blame my being demential…
That should keep me out of trouble!
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THE DAY OF THE SEIZURES
Sorry, but this Sunday was a frigging-frustrating, seizure-ridden day, with nothing getting done. Well, nothing getting finished, anyway.
On the plus side, she hasn’t been so kind to me for weeks. She didn’t kick off the first attack until 15:15 hours. Great!
But Sadra’s more than covered for her.    These are the ones where I can do nothing for a few minutes after I get back to reality. A Carer came when I was out of it and told me I was open-eyed and muttering things incoherently. She was really worried. Luckily, I was soon back to my semi-senses and explained to her about what it was. It was her first visit as well.
Ejaz did the first call. And I remembered that on Friday, no one had changed my catheter bag. Ejaz, not having his bike, was on the bus, and on a Sunday, they are a rare sight. He did not have time to do the catheter today. He told me to ask the next Carer to do it. Ajaz issued the medications. Got the diabetic socks fitted, then checked the taps, fridge, freezer and cooker were not left open or on.   
Then, new to me, Carer Yasmin arrived, unsure of what needed to be done. I showed her the cooker, freezer, taps and taps that need checking every call. She also did not have time to change the catheter day pouch paraphernalia. She gave me two paracetamols and a gulp of Peptac that I had asked for. She also said to ask the next Carer to sort out the catheter contraption. I’ve already requested two without any luck. Third time lucky, I hope. I’ve not been in so much pain with the tubing for many weeks, possibly months. Still, I’m hoping the Carer due in approximately three hours might be able to do it.
Few photos today, dozens and dozens of mini-seizures. Although they seem to be getting less often as I type this – Huh! I shouldn’t have said that!

I may have to ask the next caller to also put the ankle strap on, as it is playing up for the first time in many months. And they will not like that. The instructions are tiny, and the procedure, if I recall correctly, is so complicated and confusing. Still, the flaring might go down before they arrive. If they are short of time as well, it’s best to get the catheter done. That is more painful for me at the moment. Saturday and Sunday, I forgot to ask them. Tsk! No, I didn’t; I did ask Ejaz, but he didn’t have time either on Saturday. Limited bus service again. When others arrived, I was in a seizure, Ann Gyna was bothering me, or I just forgot. Now it’s beginning to hurt; I can remember to better. When it came to it, it didn’t matter. I had lost the ankle straps again. Huh!

A few snaps were taken between seizures.

First kitchen shot.
Love them clouds!

Spring beginning to green the flora!

The gravel path up Woodthorpe Park.

A later shot from the balcony of the end car park.
We’ve not had much rain lately.
This is the first photo I’ve taken for at least six months without a mudslide showing on it!
What happened to April Showers?

The sun coming down.

Washed some socks

Welcoming home his servant Doug.
I swear we can read Andy’s thoughts through his expressions. He’s ‘getting on’ a bit now, not that he shows it, Bless him. Coping well with his medical treatments, as is servant Doug. Both heroes!

I’m feeling extra tired, earlier than usual today.
An early nosh was sorted out cause I want to watch highlights of the Forest v Man City game on the TV.

Bacon in cheesy-topped bread rolls is a simple meal to cook, but you wouldn’t think the time it took to cook the bacon was far less than what it took me to try to clean the oven dish. In fact, I gave up and threw the tray away in the end! 
Oh, I nearly forgot to add the pictures...
I dipped them in a BBQ sauce dip.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the last call. I remembered the day the catheter bag was supposed to be changed, according to Friday’s weekly schedule. After three ‘haven’t got the time to do it, ask the following Carer responses. 
Carer ‘Joe’ had not done one before, but between us, a good job was made of the task.

I’ve no desire to mention the Man City v Forest result. But it did reflect the difference and was a fair result.

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– – – TTFNski – – –
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Inchy Today: Saturday 26th April 2025

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A NEW AILMENT
I was sitting there, having a drink of Zinfandel,
I was depressed but not feeling suicidal,
Admittedly, I was finding life barely wadeable,
But why was I now thinking so depressional?
I need to cheer up but lack the wherewithal,
I’d gone from singing to feeling vincible…
I didn’t feel a part of anything tellural, 
Then I’d turn all phlegmatic and stoical.
What had changed? Guilt, now I feel sacral,
Suddenly tired, so tired, feeling sardonical,
Accepting that life is but ephemeral…
High Horis visiting is so enjoyable…
Depression Duncan returns, he’s unshakeable,
But why? It’s all unanalysable,
Keeping calm may be advisable,
Arguing with myself again, I must be tactful,
PN hinders thought and movement transferral,
Doreen Dementia is also not terminatable,
High Horis returns! Seemingly therapeutical,
Mini-seizures; sometimes things get threnetical,
Ailments can prevent stuff from being doable…
Problems mental and physical,
What I’m going to say may sound unbelievable…
In a High Horis, life seems incredible…
The sensation I had was execrable…
I floated out of my body, extrinsical…
I looked at myself, existential…
A chance, of course, this could be dubitable
Which gave me a theme for this doggerel,
Are these events possible or circumstantial?
With my mental ailments, possibly corporeal?
Another seizure then found a new carbuncle,
In a rear area just below my belt buckle!
As bad as things are, I still had to chuckle!
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03:10hrs: I bounded out of bed, somersaulted over the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, landing safely by genuflecting my knees at the perfect time. Yodelled, and…
Oh, well, alright then…
03:10hrs: I struggled to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. Then, I struggled even more to get my legs off the bed, knocking my walking stick over (I’ll get it in the neck for making noise this early from Marie, who lives below, next time I see her!), as both Cartilages and Arthur Itis didn’t seem to appreciate my sleeping in the hospital bed and were giving me some gip. I sang out as I stubbed my toe on the Ottoman… Twice!

I took this snap while checking the taps, fridge, and freezer in the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t left anything out of order. No doors are left open, windows are closed, and cookers are turned off.

This session took well over two hours. There were a couple of things that went well. I can’t recall them at this moment cause so many went wrong!
The first thing I tackled was pouring jugs of hot water, washing-up liquid, and Dettol into the grey bowl that my plates of meat fit into. To soak/wash them while doing my teeth and shaving. Which I did, and cleaned my painful, going rapidly-rotten teeth. My mistake was forgetting about the bowl with my feet in it and reaching for the Toothache Spray. I tipped the bowl, and water spread all over the floor! Still, I had clean feet. I also cleaned up the floor. It’s not easy with a mop, bucket and walking stick in tow. I also had a third stubbing of the toes. What can I say? Maybe Arrgh? Finally, I got back to do the shaving. Three tiny cuts underneath the chin, neck and nose. How I cut myself on my nose will remain a mystery. Nobody knows! I stopped the bleeding with the Brut aftershave. It stings a little but does the job.

Porc failedI had to use them before starting the medicationings.
Constipation Conrad ruled absolute this morning. It was pure agony.
I tried to expedite the process, but the evacuation was very slow going. My head was going dizzy with the pain and effort needed to encourage some movement. Eventually, the motion began, but it got stuck part-way!
Oh, what a painful morning!
I felt like I’d been on the toilet for an hour or more.
Suddenly, but oh, so slowly, the torpedo, it felt more like a submarine, quarter-inched its way out.
It plonked into the bowl with a thud.
There was a fair bit of blood!
From , well, there would.

Med HydrI then washed, antiseptically cleaned, and applied cream to the affected area. Doing it over again with some Germoloid Ointment.
More precious time was lost. However, the washing and medications did nothing to ease my situation. It was almost  Lovely!
Then, I made a brave decision. (Yes!) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion would be done next! Get more pain out of the way. I usually leave it until last, as it is the most painful one to do.
Ugleklump! Cragnackles! That hurt!

I did both eye sprays. Then, after cleaning the ears, I inserted the olive oil into each channel. A nasal spray was squirted up both sides. Then, another challenging task was undertaken. Needed the Barrier cream to be put on the right ankle. The left ankle was not leaking. A simple enough job – but reaching down to apply it was the problem. It was entirely overcome by my cunning use of paper towels dabbed, and the small plastic Picker-Upper was used to apply it. It wasn’t exactly pain-free, but it was bearable.

Oh, I am good! Hehe!

I’ve been using this graphic of the small picker-upperer on and off for years. I’ve only just noticed that I had spelt ‘picker’ wrongly. Tsk!

7:00hrs: I got two potatoes out, ready to go into the slow cooker later on. Of course, I forgot all about them; they had shrivelled a bit, and I threw them away, opting for frozen mini-roast spuds instead. I spotted the tubers on the counter around 21:00hrs.

Carer Ejaz made the first call of the day. Diabetic socks and medications were sorted out.

Daytime photos taken.

The clouds grew thicker.

It got hazier.

Then, it cleared a little.

Brightened up a smidgeon.

Struggled with updating the Friday post.
Well into teatime before I’d got it done.
Today, the above Ode cost me a few hours. Chiefly due to repeated mini-seizures and my mind wandering, I found myself scripting while I was out of it. So many corrections to be made. I may have missed some as the fog dawned in my head.

I got carried away searching for an old photo of myself to use on a future blog. More hours lost.
I spent too long thinking of and getting the photos cleaned up a smidgen; here they are.
c1951.
Then I took one taken earlier this year.
2025.
This sent me off on an unpleasant tangent.
Guilt and shame showered over me for my past actions. However, it clarified the reason for my bad luck and the mental and physical pains I now experience. Truth is, I deserve them. This afternoon, I found myself unself-pitiable.
A kind of freedom lingered, of acceptability.
I hope I can experience this feeling of peace again.

Carer Mizra did the second call. Confusion over medications. Mizra’s second time of calling. She put the socks on and creamed the right ankles for me.

I think I made a Sainsbury or Ocado order later on. I’ll need to verify this tonight.

Carer Rozma did the last two calls. I was having mini-seizures on both calls. It’s only through the scribbled notes on the pad that I remembered he’d called.

Approximately 21:00hrs.
What a change in the view!

My belated meal
Very nice, too!
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Up The NHS – Bless!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 24th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Here’s what the future holds, I’ve gleaned,

Putin & Trump, agreements are formed,

Their wars were turbocharged,

Trump: Mexico was savaged,

Putin: Lithuania was occupied,

Trump wanted Canada but was denied,

Putin: finished Ukraine, on to Poland,

Trump: attack and took Iceland…

Putin: The Idle of man was scavenged,

Trump proved he was  unhinged,

Jamaica was attacked

Is this how it all ends? Can you imagine?

World Rulers, Trump and Putin?

The only opposition is China?

What of the UK, Australia…

France, Spain, Africa, India?

What of bean-counter, Starmer?

I’ve been advised by an astrologer-auger,

That this is not on our future agenda,

Who can avoid this abomination?

Save the world and each free nation?

You’d know if you were a Christian!

It would be lovely to be awestricken!
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A mixed day mentally. It was rife throughout. Today was a day of hard work that left me baffled. Sparse blog, sorry. Up at 04:50hrs. 

Hoovering.

Potatoes are ready to make cheesy spuds later.

First brew of Glengettie.

Kitchenette view.

Carer Ejaz arrived. Medications. Diabetic socks.

Window cleaner called. The price is going up by 20%. Spit! The first bit of bad news, plenty to follow.

Ocado delivery.
Cheesy cobs.
Fridge

Just as I was bending and stretching to reach the bowl, I’d just dropped on the kitchen floor. Whoopsiedangleplop! Balance-Loss-Bertha and Dizzy Dennis gave me a double assault.
Down I went, hitting my chin and head en route to the floor and landing on the pile of bottles I’d knocked over. My language was a bit crude!
Hitting the chin, set off Toothache Tiffany.
Then came the harrowing part. The trip on all fours to get to the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner; to haul me back up onto my feet. The short journey must have taken me a good few minutes to get there. I had to keep stopping to move the catheter pouch into a less painful position. I was knackered when I got there, then faced the challenge of hauling my elephantine-bellied body up on the recliner. Only to find that 
it was bleeding from the tube tugging and adjusting en route.
More time was lost, having to clean and medicate Little Inchies’ fungal lesion and the scrape and bruise on the chin. That stung a tad! 

I moved back onto the computer. Concentration was terrible, mistakes rife, and I wasn’t feeling too good physically now, either. My work rate disintegrated, my mind wandered off of its own accord, and I had a prolonged, weird, cracking seizure when I recall most things. I knew I was doing wrong, but I just thought this was a dream and carried on blooping! That is unless I was really dreaming. The oddest one yet.

Coming out and back to semi-reality, the young lady Carer arrived. I was draining the urine from the day bag to the dedicated jug. I believe I had another mini, a few-second-long seizure at the same time. Peptac was taken given.

I started on the blogs. Only to realise that I felt the warm, wet sensation in my left sock, feet and slipper!
Yes, I’d failed to turn off the release valve on the catheter yet again! I think a combination of the Seizure, the effects from the tumble, and being distracted when the Carer was asking my questions may have caused this accident.
It’s been the same for some time now. As I was warned at the Dementia meeting, it will get worse, and it has… my concentration evaporates when I try to do two things at the same time nowadays.
I know I’ve left the taps running when the door chime rings or I get a telephone call from someone. I forgot what I was doing when interrupted.
I had to take off my socks, which was even more painful than the first Accifauxpa with the tumble, all-fours-crawl, and fungal lesion medicating! Then, I had to wash my feet – another challenge, as if the agony of getting my socks off was not enough! I fetched a bowl from the wet room and half-filled it, a jug at a time, with water from the sink to fill the bowl halfway. Washing up liquid and Dettol added. I brought a towel with me. I’m not sure how I’m going to dry my feet with it yet. I managed it, but it was another painful struggle. Fed up? Me? Yes! 
I sat my feet in the bowl for about twenty minutes, placed a food order for the next week, and returned to the blog. The water was well cold now. I had hoped a Carer might call early to offer some help, but no luck. I decided to wait for the Carer before risking carrying the split plastic bowl to empty and store in the wet room. Then, I decided to wash the urine-soaked socks I had left earlier, soaking in Dettol and laundry liquid in the kitchen sink. Rinsed them and hung them to dry.
Funny how one can get a picture to come into one’s mind instantly, word association, maybe? As I typed ‘hung’, I thought of Starmer! Ha-ha!

I got an email from the Bulwell-based Diabetes training folks.

Sunset shot.

I’d bought some Albert Bartlett potatoes.
£2.50 for 2kilograms. Well, the ones I had last year for baking cheesy potatoes were wonderful!
But not so much this time!
I knew I’d have difficulty with them when I saw the amount of black mould in them.
This is how they came out of the cooker, ready to have the husks emptied into a bowl and mixed with some no-butter butter.
Leicester cheese, sea salt, black pepper and Worcestershire sauce. 
However, it took me an hour to cook them in the oven and almost another hour to locate and remove the spots of black Rhizoctonia Solani, which I had investigated. It is a fungal disease that causes stem canker, damping off, black scurf, skin netting, and tuber growth distortions. And getting them back in what was left of the husks… well, I think I deserved a medal. The mixture was replaced in the skins and returned to the oven for twenty minutes until the tops were nicely browned and crisp. However, they did taste so good! But it took so long to sort them out that I was falling asleep eating them. 
With some pickled beetroots and Nordic bacon!

Naturally, after washing the load of pots, cutlery, basins, and plates, I settled down around midnight to watch the original Death Wish movie on TV.
But couldn’t, as it didn’t have any subtitles. I did not want to wake up the chap above by having the sound load enough for me to hear it. Those two or three floors above and below me would have all been disturbed. I’d have had a lynch party waiting for me in the morning. Haha!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– Passe une bonne journée –
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 23rd April 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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GOOD RESULTS
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Failures, mistakes? I’ve become an epigone,
It made me downcast, glum, & woebegone,
Life today, I just can’t underfong,
Hopefully, I’ll not suffer for too long,
I’ll soon see St. Peter, and be logging on…
Depression is a vile botheration…
My mind in constant circumbilivagination,
Brain & body with little corroboration,
Worries, fears, defeats, no cachinnation,
My mental visitors seem all cacodaemon,
The Grim Reaper’s awaited clarion…
I’ve given so much contemplation,
No solutions, just failed bodge, after bodge!
Will I be an Angel, or Beelzebubian?
Will I find safety, a hide, or a bastion?
Will Hell hold or hide bacchanalian?
Hell, is it the source of depressionism?
The Devils home, desolation, damnation?
Will retain my delusion & disequilibrium?
Or judge my sacrilege, profanation?
Or take heed of my moral declension?
Are my thoughts all a misconception?
Are Heaven & Hell; both a delusion?
Yesterday’s confusion I’d like to mention,
The failures, fears, all in deliration!
Will either be divine, celestial, or elysian?
Or are both, just an illusion?
Is there no other option?
Humankind, developed by an alien?
Monitored, our every move digested…
To what we are affiliated, afflicted,
Angered, get-bladdered, how have we altered,
Sins, naughties that we have adopted,
As to why? I’m just bewildered,
We’re castigated, castrated, get cataracted,
We murder, kill, give & get castigated,
Is this message getting communicated?
Explaining one thoughts is complicated…
We’ve been constipated, not consolidated,
We’re disordered, we’ve dithered, doddered…
Defaulted, defected, deflected, & dejected,
Murdered, bribed, MPs get backhanded,
Alliances get disbanded,
Morals do not get expedited,
Freed murderers are paroled,
Honest citizens get exasperated,
Oligarchs laugh at food price rises,
These wrongs are never explicated,
Minds & computers should be expurgated!
Crimes excused, falsified, almost justified,
I’ve lost the plot; must get this ode finished,
Heaven or Hell, they can’t be selected,
Which makes many people frampold & fantad,
We’ve all be criticised, castigated, hated,
Our aggravations have snowballed,
Getting more vicious, but never alleviated,
If lies, deceit were air, we’d all be asphyxiated,
Is death, a feature of life, or a forfeiture?
It could of course be a forewarner…
Life’s gone, but what’s around the corner?
Heaven or Hell, which one would be better,
Naturally I don’t know the answer,
Well, speaking as a grammaticaster…
And obviously an experienced galumpher,
This is just a hypothesis or conjecture…
Bearing in mind I’ve got cachexia,
Which is better to have than copropraxia,
Reserved for those with a particular disorder?
Maybe those of us with ecdemomania?
Maybe I’ll fit into that category?
I could beg St. Peter for an amnesty,
He may consider my plea, ambiguously,
Though he may answer me astringently,
Heaven or Hell? – Hopefully, Heaven for me!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sorry but today has been a nightmare.
Carer Joe, replaced with Carer Ejaz.
Who had not done the three hour shift before.
Other things prevented my working on the blog for long. This is really the best I could do.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:30hrs: Up and wobbling about.
Kitchen safety checks, took this rainy kitchen view

Then I went to have a long session.
The full works. Hard work due to both cartilages and several mini-seizures during the two hour session.

Carer Ejaz visit. It appears we have only one of the beta blockers left in stock. Ejaz made notes on his mobile. Said he’d sort things out.

Computer, doing the long ode for today.

Raining a bit now, no sunshine out yet. (midday)

Rain started, rain stopped!

Well, I made a right mess of this evenings meal!
Failures: I undercooked the potato cakes. Never have I bought fattier, greasier Golonkowa. The carden peas were taty, though. Unfortunately, I found some mould on the wheatmeal rolls!
A sad end, to a tragic day!

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Not a good day by a mile. I’ll try to smile!
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Inchy Today: Friday 25th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – Another good week so far! – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Do you usually take the bait?
Or do you weigh up the odds and wait?
Do you think life is hell or bittersweet?
Political Parties, who were bivariate,
Now, there’s Starmer’s shower, & he’s variate,
I wouldn’t say he was inadequate…
Mayhap a little ignorant and inquorate,
Despite his backhanders, he looks lanate,
The Tories, now powerless to negate…
Herr Starmer’s a political novitiate,
No politician can stop or obdurate…
Nobody to challenge him, to objurgate,
As Prime Minister, he’s illegitimate,
His lies got him in power to infuriate…
Kier should be easy to mock and humiliate,
He should not wait to hibernate…
He has no moral convictions to incapacitate,
No guilt, no shame, no loss of face to illustrate,
He loves to regulate but not reevaluate,
His robbing of pensioners will reverberate,
His own HMG rules he does violate,
If his lies continue, he’ll vermiculate,
His lies are ignored, as with Watergate,
I don’t think he’s anyone’s mate!
His dishonesty is too complex to mitigate,
Only gloom for the UK’s proletariat,
His underhandedness can only be profligate,
The proletariat, Keir does provocate…
His lies, he continues to replicate,
Lies by omission on autorepeat,
Before each move, they collectively machinate,
Thesaurus consulted for compassionate…
They all already know how to spell desperate,
Trying to avoid using misappropriate,
Grabbing everything that companies donate,
MP’s expenses are ignored; they do not noviciate,
Starmer continues to confuse & obfuscate,
He’s a clever con man, a tergiversator…
Cunning defrauder, liar, and defalcator,
Hustler, bustler, shyster, & backhand-taker,
A true Labour voter dissapointer & alienator,
One more thing about our new Prime Minister…
He’s a two-faced, double-dealing ambidexter!
I hope I don’t get a visit from his barrister?
To sue me for defamation of character…
He can come to see me, we can have a natter…
If he finds time amidst his backhanding colloquia,
Getting his lagniappes, donations & baksheeshes,
He stole my fuel allowance, but does it matter?
May I express my thoughts about him? A conspirator! 
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Contrails in the sky!

Not a very good one.

Contrails gone.

That’s a bit better now.

The clock belatedly changed.

FOOD!

Early evening.

Absolutely Lovely!

Late night; Mixed clouds?

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TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 22nd April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – POLITICAL – –
Tuesday, 22nd April 2025, 9:30. 0. 0.
What do I see today, politically?
Alcoholically, ablutionary, & apocalyptically!
Backhanders taken, greedily,
Compassion? Only adumbratively…
Questions answered deviantly,
<<<>>><<<>>>
Top of Starmer’s gaffes,
“Sausages” instead of “hostages”!
Showing his gaffe addictiveness,
He shows tendencies of being anorakish,
Some decisions made, are cartoonish!
<<<>>><<<>>>
His gaffes can always be worked around,
His lies leave voters spellbound,
Not denied, just juxtapositioned,
He thinks everything he’s done is sound,
Price rises, are not propound!
<<<>>><<<>>>
The Tories are now but a bugaboo…
To come back, they must be true-blue!
Their defeat for me, was a blanscue,
I knew what Labour were going to do…
Win the election! More price rises are due!
<<<>>><<<>>>
Bet they’ve got gelt on some archipelago,
Fiddle expenses, take backhanders too,
More & more dosh they seem to accrue,
Gas, electricity cost rises for us though,
Food, bread, spuds, up, even cocoa!
<<<>>><<<>>>
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I unwillingly got up at 05:00hrs.
Removed the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Got up and nearly fell back down again.
Gave way on me.
She did this again a couple of hours later. But I was in the hallway at the time, taking the groceries, so the walls saved me that on that occasion.
Next, a rare prolonged visit from .
As far as I could tell, I’d had no seizures of any type or kind up to now.

I took a photo of the calendar clock to include here later, after resizing it to fit the page.
Took a blue-view photo from the kitchen.
Cloudless! But not for long.

Sorted the waste bags and got them to the waste chute, but stopped myself in time. It was too early to use it yet, for fear of waking somebody living below as the bags tumble the twelve floors to the bin. I returned to the flat, and made up three one litre drinks to satisfy the demands from the bladder & catheter. I used soda water ones. One with some lemon in to flavour it, one with orange cordial, and the last one with Tango orange. Each one also had a sprinkling of bicarbonate-of-soda added.

I downloaded the photos I had already taken to CorelDraw. It took me some time to get the computer to save the files, but I eventually managed to do so.

The intercom came to life. It was the Asda order arriving. The driver packed the lose goods into carrier bags for me. I insisted had picked a drink for himself before he left.
Plenty to pick from.

I started packing the things away, planning to take photos of the food as I emptied the bags.
I walked Carer Ejaz. He hurried me to get the things away, so no chance for many photos. I took two before he arrived. He fitted the diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, checked the taps, and verified the food dates.

So, I opened the cupboard doors, the fridge, and so on, to take shots of them when he had gone.

First photo.

Second snap. Asda didn’t have two of the breads in stock, so it looks likely I’ll never buy a loaf of my favourite one, the sliced milk roll. Humph!
The fridge.

The freezer.

Top cupboard,

Bottom cupboard.

I got the stew of the day, a vegetarian started.
Doing it in the slow-cooker this time.
Onions, carrots, mushrooms, gravy pot, gungo beans, pickled black peas, pickled water chestnuts, & a tin of garden peas, with some Gung Po added. Left it on a low light for two hours, then turned it up.

Got the ode sorted out and posted it on the blog. 
Feeling tired now.

Carer Joe arrived at 13:15hrs. He rang British Gas again and got through this time, after a long wait, but he did say they were playing jazz music. Hehe! 
Not sure how much the call will cost me, but the lad was on it for a long time. He eventually got through the hoard of human messages, and spoke to someone. He said it has been sorted now. Thanks, Joe.

I went into the kitchenette to turn up the heat for the stew and added some tinned potatoes That I had sliced up. The juice was tasty.

Back in the main rubbish room, I emptied the catheter day pouch into the jug… and…
I was bent down released and kept hold of to shake the exit switch, and Lost Balance Brutus had me over.
The urine ended up on the carpet with me!
Cartilage Chloe, Arthur Itis Len on the left knee, and bashing my arm against the chair as I fought my way back onto my feet after the tumbled, offered as much pain as I ever want to handle again. The day was going so well, as well!
However, it worsened even further for the knees and back. All that bending to soak up the wee as fast as I could. It took me ages to get it anywhere near dry. 
Then, I sprayed the fabric conditioner and fresh air spray around, I on the corner of the ottoman. Aargh! Needless to say, !

Then, as I recovered from the incident and had cleaned it up as best I could, I returned to blogging. Shot up the leg, as far as my groin. Fair enough, they eased off a lot, and were barely reaching the knee. Then the shocks cut out, and cold tingling sensation took over.

Sister Jane rang. We had a natter. She has glaucoma now, bless her. We spoke about football and swapped tales from the past.

I went to put the thin dressing gown on the kitchen window, as the sun was blooming again. I rechecked the stew, nowhere near ready yet, might be an hour or two at least. I left it on high.

Went on the WR Reader, then the comments.

I’ll have to have the meal after the Carer has been. It’ll never be ready in time to eat it first. This leaves me with the pressure (not really) of remembering to put on the night catheter pouch. What am I saying. I am a fool! Somehow, I thought it was 20:45, and it isn’t. It’s 16:45! And it’s the third visit!

Bootiful Puffer Clouds.

I went to get some more cleaners to try again at removing the accidental urine Accifauxpa scent from the carpet.
And found the Rhodesian (as was, it’s now Zimbabwe) police officer truncheon. 1962 I got this.

Joe, then Ejaz made the last two calls.

Grammarly is not working properly; no spell checks are being made. 

NOSH

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Monday 21st April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– Bless the poor old sausage! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Frustration makes me wish I was unborn,
Depression; Why? I’m not certain,
Before I face my final curtain…,,
Why do I always underperform?
I can’t sleep due to my own thought storm,
What could make my life, less tiresome?
With the catheter contraption worn,
<<<<<>>>>>
I’ve done nothing to make me admirable,
I’d like to be again analytically capable,
Have romp, with lady so angelical,
These thoughts are all antilogical,
Sex at 82 is not recommendable,
Not only is my ticker undependable…
Life for me is no longer wadable.
<<<<<>>>>>
As failures and worries accumulate,
Dementia makes the brain less accurate,
Thinking of sex? Long ago did mussitate,
Catheter? Forced me to terminate…
Distant memories of when I could mate,
Desires, passions, no longer machinate,
It’s been forty years since I had a date!
And that’s frustrating to me mate!
<<<<<>>>>>
Not that I had any sexual effectiveness,
Lost abilities = gained acrimoniousness,
My appointment with the neurosurgeons,
Waited three years, with little urgence…
Both legs with diabetic bandages,
And rapidly failing cartilages,
Power charges, HMG, both bloodsuckers!
Day & night, I get the seizures,
Most of all I get the desires…
No more sex, or dancing, it’s pathetic…
I’ve Glaucoma, deafness, nothing climatic,
Daily I’m growing much more empathetic,
What I miss most, I’ll not be too explicit,
Is Grizelda’s sessions, they were fantastic,
Frantic, frenetic, fundamentalistic,
Memories, now far out of reach…
My dream of Grizelda’s return, is foolish,
The fearful truth, is tempus fugit!
Self-consoling with things gastronomic,
Now I’ve a bouncing belly, that’s gigantic,
<<<<<>>>>>
Creating humankind? Was it just a gimmick?
All I’ve got from life, is acroparesthesia,
No longer interested, I’m now a flaneur
Starmer the acclaimer and enjoinder,
Putin the attacker, ever threatening,
Liar Trump, now liar Putin copying!
Why are all tellurians fearing?
Squabbling, murdering, starving,
Quarrelling, arguing bickering,
World-ending leaders & Oligarchs,
Daily they are contraindicating,
Midst the violence, the mugging,
Shooting, stabbing & conquesting,
Battling, waring, the world’s combusting,
Betraying, cheating & deceiving,
So many innocents grieving…
Rulers? Champagne, vodka, delabating,
While earth’s population is detritioning.
>>>>><<<<<
I once found life to be coruscating,
Now I believe it is devastating…
Dangerous, and debilitating…
But not for the idiots who are ruling,
As they carry on greedily enfeebling…
their own voters citizens; uncaring,
Getting evermore disobliging:,
Uncivil, unsympathetic, morally-offending
Laughing at imagined enemies, taunting,
While global-warning denigrating…
Blameless, faultless families, scared & hiding,
Poor mites no water, possibly starving,
Underground, hugging and/or cuddling,
Millions running away, emigrating,
Leaders carry on as usual…
Manipulating, cheating and defrauding!
A saviour? I hope he arrives in the morning!
>>>>><<<<<
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I spent that long on today’s Ode (Although I did enjoy doing it – not the content, but my protesting). It is already 17:40hrs, and I got up at 04:00hrs! This will have to be brief and concise. Otherwise, it will be another early morning, head-down time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Up at 0400hrs. The nocturnal catheter bag contents showed a 6-rating this morning.

No seizures yet, and only one cartilage gave way on me all day long, well up to now. Cartilage Chloe.

I must have had a shake on when I took this one. But, it made for an interesting modern art effort?

Early Morning
I started with a similar evacuation to yesterday on the Porcelain Throne.

I took this snap from the kitchen. I gathered all the necessary items for this morning’s whole ablution event at the wet room. No, that’s not true! Sorry. I’d ran out of clean Kagoules. In fact, I only had one left, that needed washing, cause I’d just taken it off.
So, I hand-washed one and hung it in the wet room to drip-dry with the wall heater on full.
Which shows that I was not entirely with it. Cause I had to move it to get into the shower.
Yes, I know, I’m an idiot!
So I got the towels from the airer.
And swapped them with the Kagoule.
Then I could start the ablutionings…
No, another Whoopsie!
So I took poff the Kagoule, and replaced the towels on the airer. Putting the Kagoule in the kitchen sink,
to make sure the towel would be nice and warm after I’d done the ablutionings. I’m losing this! Hehe!
Another Whoopsie!
I realised that I’d not taken off the catheter contraption’s day bag holder pouch. Back into the front room to remove it and get it in the laundry bag.

As I got in the room and bent down, I had a Seizure if sine sort, that lasted the three seconds or so it took me to tumble onto the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, recliner. Which was a lot better than going down onto the floor, and so easy to get back up again.
By the time I got back to the wet room, I felt tired again, as if I’d been up for couple of hours already and had got nowt done. 
I had to smile when I saw the clock in the wet room. I had been up for over two hours! Now I needed to cut corners to save time and ensure I finished before the Carer was due.
.
After two false starts, I tried again.
Great! one cut shaving, bloody toothache again.
I was amazed at how well things went.
Even getting the fresh Amazon PPs on was was a piece of cake. I wasn’t wearing pants made of cake, you’ll understand? Hahaha!

After rejigging the Kaghoule with the towels again, I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea. Very welcome!
I got on the computer and started on the mammoth ode above. I got a little carried away with it, cause if flowed so easily. Just the one mini seizure, and as for , I think she’s fallen out with me. I do hope this carries on. Is enough bother witout any help from Anne Gyna. I must have already used a tenner’s worth of the pain-ease spray.

Carer Ejaz, formerly Ahmed arrived a little later than usual. As it is a Bank Holiday and the public is finding it difficult to use the Sunday Timetable buses.
He gave the medications and got my diabetic socks fitted. He was already well behind, so he did not stop for the usual chat that we have.

I made a JS food order for next week, Tuesday. This week’s ASDA order, I cut back on a little. I think!
This Arithmaphobia is getting worse. I’m bad enough with word remembering. Good job I’d made lists to use on my blogs. Numers, dates etc. I regularly find errors on the calendar and blog. To many!

Carer Joe arrived. 13:15hrs. He obligingly tried to obtain the Electricity meter reading for British Gas online. However, we were unable to get it to accept them. He spent more time than he wanted to and had to give up when he found a message saying ‘They could not access my account!
Why? No reason given. Hump! We shared our farewells and off he trotted. Nice lad.

Back to the Ode again, and got it finished. Even the punchline came easily this time.
Made a start on the blog proper.

Then I went to make up the feast I had planned for today’s meal in advance (I thought). Realising the time, and it wasn’t in advance… What happened to the time again?
I put the items in the fridge and worked on the WP reader, perusing and replying to comments.

Getting late now. Better heat the meal up.
Beef in onion gravy, boil-in-the-bag. With Home pickled water chestnuts and black chickpeas. Then I added some rich gravy seasoning, my beloved Gung Po sauce and garden peas to the mixture. Stirred it all up nicely, added some Marmite, then cooked it in the microwave for eight minutes, stirring it vigorously after four minutes. Three doorstep-sized slices of white bread, dipped and dunked. Slurp!

I watched the Burnley v Sheffield United match. My second-favourite team, Burnley, won. To be honest they didn’t deserve to. But I was so glad. This meant they would be promoted to the Premier League as winners of the Championship. have spent 60 seasons in the top division of English football, 47 in the second, 11 in the third, and 7 in the fourth division, historically. In the 2020s, they have been promoted to the Premiership on six occasions, and relegated after one season on six of them in the first year.
In 1960, Burnley won the First Division, and Forest avoided relegations by just one point. Mixed emotions there!

1962 FA CUP FINAL
SPURS BEAT BURNLEY 3-1
THEY WAS ROBBED BY
A CROOKED REFEREE!

Tottenham Hotspur took an early lead when Jimmy Greaves scored past Burnley goalkeeper Adam Blacklaw with a low left foot shot to the right corner of the net. The score remained 1–0 until half time. Burnley equalised shortly after the interval through Jimmy Robson, who in doing so had scored the 100th FA Cup Final goal at Wembley. However, Bobby Smith quickly countered for Tottenham Hotspur to restore their one-goal lead. Smith had scored in the 1961 final and remained the only player to score in successive finals for the next forty years, until Freddie Ljungberg of Arsenal repeated the feat with goals in the 2001 and 2002 finals. With ten minutes remaining, Burnley defender Tommy Cummings handled the ball on the goal-line and a penalty was awarded to Tottenham. Danny Blanchflower sealed victory for Tottenham with a penalty that sent Blacklaw the wrong way, securing Tottenham Hotspur’s fourth FA Cup.
Despite the opinion of the final by the press, the game itself actually produced more action in the penalty area than any previous post-war final, with the two keepers being forced into more saves from shots on target than any two keepers in any previous post-war final. The game also pivoted on two moments of controversy. The first came midway through the second half when Jimmy Robson was put through to score what looked like a second equaliser for Burnley. The linesman’s flag ruled the goal out and while BBC television pictures are not conclusive the call was an extremely close one. The second centred on Tottenham’s decisive penalty when the opposite linesman flagged for a foul, presumably on goalkeeper Blacklaw seconds before the handball incident for which the penalty was awarded. The referee did not seem to see the linesman’s flag and pointed to the spot while, to their credit, none of the Burnley players protested. I bet you’d never have believed that this could happen?
But the scumball of a cheating, backhanded referee got away with it.
Thus, my horrible-hatred and loathing for Tottenham Hotspur was given birth. I still have most of it left!
Just thought I’d mention it!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
CHIN-CHIN, ALL!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Whoops! Nearly missed off the night photo…

A cracker of a view!

Inchy Today: Sunday 20th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

Cooked pot of pork knuckle, beetroots, pickled black beans and water chestnuts, a giant potato pancake, two doorstep sized slices of bread, and a spot of BBQ sauce added. A cheap icecream cone to follow.
Ate it all up, like a good little boy. Hehehe!

22:20hrs: I got bedded down, and was soon off into the land of slumber, where I had a dream.
I was in the Tardis, with Herr Starmer. I recognised it from the TV series, but there were also members of Parliament, all arguing. Starmer seemed oblivious to this, and carried on over-talking them. I wish I could recall more. But that’s all folks! As some old Walt Disney cartoons used to end. Not that I can recall it at the moment, but I reckon I must have got up during the morning, and took these photographs from the kitchen window. Putting them on, I remembered the green sky, and wondering what I’d done wrong?
To the right I think.
To the left I think.
Ahead, I guess.
Closer shot, ahead. (Brown now?)

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Well, he’s back another reactivation,
Imbedding in me, thoughts of a madman,
Or perhaps, to be closer, a badman…
Silly thoughts, developed, began…
Will I ever get to use a bedpan again?
A chance to dance, the twist or can-can?
If I’m reborn, I’d like to be a Casanovan,
I’m passing wind with power of a turbofan,
I can hear words, they’re stentorian…
However, I refuse to pay attention,
They are full of hatred & vilification…
Loathing, defamation, castigation…
Giving me collywobbles & trepidation,
They laughed at my coming trephination,
Is the voice mine? Am I in regression?
My alto-ego is a much better rhetorician,
I leave no progeny, offspring, scion,
What will I leave in residualisation?
With age, comes a painful realisation,
Unwarranted dismal and depression,
I’d use a little prognostication…
Involving perception, conceptualisation,
But it would only be assumption, supposition,
I’d love to know before my conclusion,
Can life really be just an illusion?
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Best Week All Year!
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I had to use the Porcelain Throne twice overnight.
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At 06:40hrs, I bounded out of bed, and I did a backwards flip. One-handedly whipped the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Burst into song; Frank Ifield’s Wayward Wind. Did a few press-ups, and ten minutes of shadow boxing, and opened the kitchen window to yodel my greetings and best wishes to all who could hear me… Or, if you prefer the truth…
It’d been another stormy night. It must have taken me four hours to fall asleep. with his nit-picking and reminders of various mistakes and bad choices I’ve made over the years, I finally gave up his attack. I feell asleep for about an hour, sprang awake, waited for to stop trying to twist my neck off, and as he subsided, had her turn at dislocating my shoulder bone. No chance of nodding off again no matter how tired I felt, now. At 06:40hrs, I removed the night bag, and the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I could hardly feel the evacuation taking place. As I stood up, I couldn’t believe the amount of mass of evacuated product in the porcelain! I’ll say no more...


Made a brew of Glengettie.

Carere Ejaz called. I forgot to ask him to take off my socks. And pointed out that have only one warfarin dose left in the stock. Ejaz said sorry for being late. No bother at all. He was using buses on a Sunday.

I prepared the meal for tonight.
Large white beans, black-eyed peas, Gung Po sauce and gravy, water chestnuts, Light Soy sauce, liquid smoke, and potatoes. Heating it slowly in the crock-pot. Yes, the same again. I do like it!

More kitchen views.
Sunshine getting through.
Decent shots?

Back to the blogging.
Then onto the WP Reader.
Hoping it lets me ‘like and comment’ this time.

Carer Joe arrived. He’s bought some prescription medications, bless him. Great, I was on the last Warfarin tablet, too! Thanks!

Got the meal sorted. Took snaps of the evening view.
Amazing cloud formations

The days meal.

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May your week go frabjously,
Your hopes develop fabulously,
Your days each go unfractiously.
May your plans go flawlessly,
May your luck go favourably…
for your fancies and foibles,
Each day pass felicitously,
You avoid all that goes feudally,
Your dreams mature flawlessly,
May others greet you fondly,
And have a bit of luck, financially!
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Inchy Today: Friday 18th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

Proof that the Grim Reaper is Evil!
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Life now seems full of stupefaction,
To which I hold many a reaction…
Overall, after my pondering summation,
I cut down on taking beta-blocker medication,
To help me with my concentration,
I weighed up the facts, with consideration
My brain tending towards absquatulation,
Considered my rear-end’s vesiculation,
It had no bearing on the situation,
Considering problems I didn’t want to mention,
The neurologist who said I’ve verbigeration,
Will my research ultimately reach a conclusion?
I realise life will never be utopian,
Past failures, return, with apprehension,
Stemming my thoughts with hesitation,
Guilt, self-vulneration & vilification
Detract me from my original intention,
I often lose my current situation…
What is my purpose, my vocation?
With Dementia comes alienation,
No doubt, I can cope, using gumption…
Mine is comparatively, insignificant,
But it is bound to soon worsen,
At the same time, my catheterisation,
Means no voluntary tintinnabulation.
For concentration, I see only annihilation!
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Hopefully with more bravado,
I await the sign; at least an echo,
As I lay here, lying doggo,
My thought processes, fallow…
Whatever my mood, high or low,
I’ll get part-three done tomorrow,
I’m off now to have a Cornetto!
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– – Excellent week up to now! – –
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I stirred back into my pretend life at 05:40 hours.
Another night of ever waking up, but this time & were present every time I woke up. I was concerned about them both, having two nights absence. Huh!

Nocturnal Pouch. Rating 5

Clock calendar updated. Hearing aid inserted. Earholes olive oiled. Eye sprayed. Rear end washed and antisepticated.
The saving produced just two little cuts.
No spillages or tumbles! Although I had a close call when getting the fresh PPs on.

Care Ahmed arrived as I was starting to season & pickle some black peas.
I mentioned that the computer was correcting when I put his name in the blog; so he gave me another name to use, bless him. Ejaz. I used it when updating yesterday’s blog, it accepted this one. He issued the medications and asked me if the Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Ointment treating was hurt again today. Haha, a lovely lad, ever-ready for a laugh.

I hoovered the little hallway, not that I’ve got a large hallway, anyway. I didn’t need to say that, did I? I’m wandering all ready. Then, I prepared the necessary items to finish the chickpeas and store them in the fridge for later use.

The day was brightening. However, the sunshine never did break through the clouds today. 

The Kala Chan peas, Stubb’s liquid smoke (this is what McDonald’s uses in their smoked food). Mushroom liquid ketchup, Marmite, liquid sea salt, pickling vinegar, and light soy sauce. I drained the peas and put them in a leak-proof food tub.
And I got it sealed and put it in the fridge. Then I opened a can of water chestnuts, and broke some up into the mix and vinegar. I had a taste of the liquid mix, and it tasted very good to me. It will require a minimum of three days in the fridge to achieve a decent level of pickledness in the peas. I must be parient. Hehe!

Back to the wet room. Urgh!

The midday call was by “Carer Joe”. We had a natter, and he said he’s doing the next call, then a new Carer would be calling. He’ll be back later. I’m not sure how long he’ll be off for, he might be on holiday.
I’d had a seizure while doing the blog when he arrived, so things can be taken with a pinch of salt.

SEIZURES FIESTA
Not for long.
But they very short, but each one was recogniseable.
I dare not move about or try to do anything on the computer, fearing a tumble or ruining the nearly finished blog. All ended well, though. They stopped after about an hour of them rattling in so fast.

Andy really has expressions that almost seem to talk to you! He’s undergoing a lot of treatment at the vets now he’s getting older. All the WPers love him.
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I’ll have to do catch-up again in the morning.

Good Morning!

Not much to do, just to add Ejaz visit and the days nosh. Can’t remember anything else.
When Carer Ejaz made the last call, I’d been deep into a heavenly sleep for about an hour.
Boy, was I confused and tired again.
I was so tired; all I wanted was to get back to sleep.
He kindly said he would fit the new weekly catheter day bag on in the morning. But I’d not made a meal yet! So I did. Half-asleep. Hehehe!

Made the nosh up. Minced imitation beef and grey, added garden peas, pickled water chestnuts, and brown chickpeas. Poured some Gung Po sauce over it, as shown in the picture above. Mixed it all up and microwaved it.
Loverly!

Of course, that was end of any sleep for the night.

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😘 TTFNski. Keep Safe! 😘
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