Ménière’s disease

Inchy Today: Monday 12th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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In this Ode, I’ll not mention Starmer,
See that? I’m already a proven liar!
I’m not an activator, actuator or advocator,
Believing once Labour got in power…
It would be a poor man’s financial alleviator,
Not a disabled and pensioner aggravator!
Nor a doom and gloom annunciator,
Our future has never been bleaker,
I don’t trust the HMG, MP, PM or speaker,
Labour: experts in taking a backhander,
I could kick him up his detrusor…
Jinx or hex him; it’d be my pleasure!
My loathing gets ever deeper,
Keir’s decisions get even creepier,
Voters crumbling-hopes get damneder,
His clever use of semi-lies & implicature…
Prevents prosecution… he is a barrister!
Who freed child killers & an axe murderer,
He’s responsible for killing off many a pensioner,
Bankrupting the family farmer…
Feathering his own nest, a meshuggener?
The man is a nihilist, self-profit-seeking,
His expense claims: do they need questioning?
No doubt about it, he’s a naysayer,
He’s likely suffering from peniaphobia,
Scared to death of becoming a pauper,
With brain cells ever working, reticular,
I noticed he’s also a slangwhanger,
He’s earned an early sepulchre,
The slower & more painful, the better!
I may sound like a hard-done-to squaller,
These odes prove I’m a schlepper…
With Starmer being a snollygoster,
He commits crimes, lies & sclaunder…
He gets away with it; that’s spectacular!
That’s because he was a high-class lawyer,
The perfect con man & thimblerigger,
As a PM, naturally, he’s titular,
He got elected because he’s a liar,
Two-faced, deceitful, a conniver,
A guilty promise-breaker
An oathed decision reverser,
A farmer & pensioner depriver,
One other thing in particular,
He also got, is, uranomania!
Divinity? He believes it! Hehehe!
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05:20hrs: I shot out of bed and leapt over the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Doing a backward summersault, landing face down, and after doing a few hundred press-ups… 
It’s no good; I’m such a terrible fibber!
I inched my legs off of the bed. The catheter contraption straps were painful this morning. I detached the nocturnal catheter bag and rose rather too quickly to get the cream and rub some on the leg straps on the leg. I fell backwards on the corner of the bed and felt bleeding.
So, with the bum and top of the leg bleeding, I hobbled into the kitchen to check the taps and stove initially. But I got sidetracked when I saw the amazingly clear sky. I got Kodak Tim Two and took this snap of the clouds. Then, I took another wider shot. The Sun was already beginning to come through from behind and causing a mist on the horison.

I went to the wet room, where I decided to tend to the mess before applying the barrier cream. I cleaned the few teeth I had left and used the mouthwash. I then realised I had not put in the hearing aids. So, I went to fetch and fit them to see if anyone should call early. With the hearing aids in, I heard a strange noise from the kitchen—a tinkling sound.
Yee Gods! The fourth time in three days! Grrr!
Luckily, it had not been running too long, and the hot water was still reasonably hot enough for me to get the shaving done.
Get ready for this, folks… Dang dang, dang, Dang!
Not a single nick, let alone cut shaving!  
A fair bit of medicationings was needed. But I’ve had worse, so no complaints.
Cleaned the glasses. Did a hearing aid battery check. Olive oiled the earholes. Dry eye spray was used. Then, the Blepharitis gel. Phorpain gelled both of Arthur Itis’s knees. Both cartilages, Chloe & Carole, are at the back of the knees. I barrier creamed my armpits, underneath my man breasts and groin, paying careful attention to SOSTH (Spanish Onion Sized Testicle Henry). Below my bulging belly, my still bleeding rear-end sternum. Germolened both ankle ulcers. Then, I got new straps onto the catheter contraption. Barrier creamed them before fitting. Then I tackled .
I’m using the new-to-me Terbinafine hydrochloride cream. I’m also applying the new dropper before the much-feared pain of rubbing it in  Med Hydr I can assure you that it was thrown in the waste bin! I’ll never use that again! I shall stick with Betamethasone in the future, even if I have to buy it. Too Painful? YES! This session took a long time to complete. Of course, getting the Protection Pants on was the usual farce. Do they make anything similar to the ones on the right here? It’s suitable that I should put him on the right. Because he’s the most Tory-like Labour Prime Minister ever! Hahaha!

As I noticed the Prison alarm was flashing last night, I didn’t expect to see it again this morning. I got Kodak Tim x2 and took this very poor close as I could get to it to take a snap of the Alarm Flashing (Escaped Prisoner). But it had stopped by the time I’d prattled about to get the shot. Just my luck not to have taken it earlier. Tsk!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Bless him.
I told them of whatever they were last night, which left me in a time-lapse, confused and nervous.
The lad listened. He then sorted out my NHS breakfast.
Then, Ejaz barrier-creamed where I could not reach, mainly my feet, ankles, and back. Next, he put my diabetic socks on my feet for me.
Then he did a quick hoovering around for me. Bless him.

I got tucked into creating today’s Anti-Starmer Ode.
I was about half an hour into it, and the intercom chimed out. It was Matron. She measured me up for the wheelchair setting up. Checked my BP returns, and I waffled on about last night’s time-warping and total confusion. She reminded me to make sure I got an appointment with the Doctor. I explained that only when the Carer is on a Wednesday and Joe is prepared to go with me. Joe will remember and explain things better than I could on my own.
I think other things were discussed. Yes, Matron Jackie will ask the Doctor if I can have an oxygen level monitor. I have no idea what that actually means. I’ll look it up on Mr. Google.

Back to the Ode writing.

A series of mini-seizures came over the next few hours. Kyboshed my creativity and concentration.

Carre Joe arrived. He thinks I may have been falling asleep, which is a possibility. However, I was getting many feelings of dizziness, and my eyes seemed foggy for a few minutes, which I usually put down to my coming out of a seizure. Who knows? Not me!

Carer Ejaz made the next call. Socks taken off. Medications were issued. We had a little natter, and he was in a rush but asked if he could take my photo with my sunglasses on. Well, ever the budding model, I agreed. A handsome-looking brute! Hahaha!

I showed my prepared-earlier nosh in the microwave pot. Ejaz took a photo of that as well! He shot off after that.

I got the Ode finished and into the blog.

I went to the kitchen to ensure I’d not left anything unsafe. I put the potatoes in the dish and put them into the microwave oven.

Boy, what a view I took in these snaps of the quickly disappearing Sun. Bootiful!

Amazing Night Glow!
Then, a closer shot.
I think the eyes of the Sun were
from some trees on the horizon.
GREAT!

It’s late now, and the spuds are in the oven. I’m giving up on the blog, but the meal tempts me!
The Morrisons bread rolls were tasteless and tough.
Everything else was gorgeous!

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Here’s a four-leaf clover
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Inchy: Sunday 11th May 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

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

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

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Wednesday 7th May 2025

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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The fragrant beauty of the moonflower,
The falling leaves from the magnolia,
Signs of Spring, from the family Rosaceae,
Tulips will be growing in Andover,
Recalling my young days, I go a quiver,
Recollecting my tussles with woman-power,
In the grass, cuddles, gropes… Wowser!
I refer, of course, to my beloved Grizelda,
As our relationship did blossom & flower,
Living here lonely now, in Winchester…
Most nights, I hear Grizelda whisper,
I explain how I desperately miss her,
Grizelda; the best ever lover & groper,
Harder than any gobstopper…
Big, muscular, strong, but genteeler,
Galactic, like mythological Galaxia…
She was never the gongoozler…
Rather more the sex organ activator,
My desire, my fire, my inveigler,
A powerful scented windbreaker,
A passionately strong lovemaker,
Autumn leaves fall from the sycamore,
Grizelda was taken, I see her no more,
She was my love, my supporter,
I imagine, dream & remember…
I still love and often serenade her,
In my mind, this may sound like Bilgewater,
She wards off my Neuralgia & Dementia…
I recall her caring benignity…
She loved my childlike poetry,
Her passion, with its forceful articulacy,
Our passion? I was the beneficiary,
I pray to meet her again, cacophonously,
She’s in my every catalepsy, is Grizzly,
I’ll die, not circumspectly or tentatively…
Hoping she’ll be waiting, eager to again maul me!
Enjoying contact, love and contiguity!
Forgive my being slightly delusionary, Hehe!
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It’s another busy day. Wednesdays are busy nowadays. Usually, Carer Joe does the weekly long call. Last week, before he arrived, I told myself to mention that I’d not have any cash to pay the monthly bills from those who do not take payment by cash card. This morning, I remembered that I still had no money to pay my debts.
Joe came to the rescue and took me to the ATM. We also got a bit of food. Boy, did I enjoy getting out? 
Joe changed the routine and got the laundry ready to go down with us. Joe also helped me prepare the trolley and other things to take out. However, I failed to remember to take the camera with me. Huh! 
When we got to the ground floor, all the machines were in use, so we had to wait until one was free. There were delays at every turn on this trip. Joe had a limited time—three hours, I think. He said we could collect the finished laundry on the way back from the ATM. Then he walked me to his pap-pap and somehow got me in it. That was painful, but it didn’t matter. Once in all, it was comfort. It was filled up when we got to the car park down Winchester Street! More delays! The third car park we tried had one free space! We moved to the road and shop with the ATM. It was broken down. 

Then, to the Co-op ATM. That had broken down.
Then, to the Continental Shops ATM. Got the dosh.

I bought some great-priced Compass canned meals there. Then I went back to the car park and up to the flats.

We’d spent so long over the ATMs that Joe had no time to dry the washing. He brought it up, and we hung it all over. A great job Joe did.

Commuter playing up.
I’m struggling. If I get the computer looked at, I’ll put pictures on quickly and catch up tomorrow.

Amazing – the moon has a ghost?

Glengettie & Spring water, and Soda water.
Drinkies to fill the catheter bag.

Joe took me to the ATM; what a farce!
But by gum, I loved getting out, feeling
I was safe if any seizures or tumbles came.

Got back to the flat.
Late, of course. No time for Joe to do the spin-drying with the ATMs not working.

A few nibbles I bought.

We hung the damp laundry all over the place. Haha!On the kitchenette Windows.
Socks on the airer in the hallway.
Hallway airing cupboard doors.
And on the main room door.

Skin-on wedge chips, slightly-seasoned.
As recommended by Carer Joe.
Stopping here. Computer toying with me.
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Must get some help with it.

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In a pickle!
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Inchy: Tuesday 6th May 2025

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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

Fresh foods

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

Can’t recall taking this one

To this scratchy-looking shot
while making the meal

Slurp!
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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Sunday 4th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Grim: Ayup, what yer up to dumbo?
Inchy: Photoing the sunset, catching it low.
Grim: You like nature, don’t you?
Inchy: I used to like women, but now it’s a no-no!
Grim: How does it help, watching the sun go?
Inchy: It doesn’t, no cuddles or fandango…
No sex or snogging makes me feel so low,
Grim: There’s nowt I can do to help though!
Inchy: A bit of good news? Should I try Ginko?
Grim: Nae, it’s no good, does nowt for you!
Inchy: News? Is there owt I should know?
Grim: I’ll soon be telling yer to get ready to go!
Inchy: That’s alright, I want to talk to St Peter,
Grim: Oh, he’s a proper keen abnegator…
Inchy: Are you saying he’s real… St. Peter?
Grim: I shouldn’t really tell yer…
as you’ll croak out sooner rather than later,
Inchy: Yes, yes, okay, please tell me…
Grim: I really shouldn’t oughter…
St Peter was invented by a Grim Reaper,
Inchy: You? Was it you who invented Peter?
Grim: Well, yes, I had to make it obscure,
So earthlings would never be sure…
Inchy: Yes, yes, yes, tell me more…
Grim: I’d hate victim’s death to be vin ordinaire,
Inchy: I think you really care!
Grim: I do, I do, look at what we share!
Neither of us can have sexual rumpy-pumpy,
Inchy: Very accurate, not our fault, amazingly,
Grim: We’ve no friends apart from each other,
Inchy: Yes, all and sundry can, annoyingly…
Grim: Starmer is our mutual archenemy,
Inchy: True, spot-on accuracy!
Grim: Neither of us show animosity…
Although we both share an animosity,
Inchy: Do we really?
Grim: Yes, towards Heaven & Hell surprisingly,
You accept death most acquiescingly!
Inchy: That’s cause life’s gone miserably,
Grim: They’ll rebirth me, non-consentingly,
With no freaking regrets or apology!
Inchy: The swine, absolutely!
Grim: 2000 years plus, I’ve been reaping!
Without stopping or ever sleeping,
Not one soul collected ever went missing…
Inchy: They’ve treated you abominably…
Grim: Hence, I share your misery, Inchy,
Inchy: Anything I can do to help, possibly?
Grim: We face futures brokenheartedly,
You for not dying, me for reliving…
Inchy: What are you saying?
Grim: When you die, I’ll not collect your soul,
Inchy: Can you not make an appeal?
Grim: To God or the Devil, you cannot appeal,
Even I don’t know if they’re real…
their decision sends me apoplectical,
your world, soon to be mine, is adumbral,
Inchy, what should I be anticipating?
Inchy: Gun crime, motor vehicle crime,
breaking & entry, Islamophobic crime, 
homophobic crime, wars, Transgender crimes.
starvations, price rises, bent politicians,
Oligarchs, illuminati, global-warmings,
financial greed, bumfuzzling, pickpocketing,
transgressions, sexual deviations & violations,
depravities, injuries, scandals, altercations,
lawbreaking, delinquencies, corruptions,
injustices, illegalities, death, criminalities,
murders, sins, atrocities, evils, abominations,
monstrosities, cybercrimes, manslaughters,
greed, backhanders, muggings, road raging,
armed assaults, drug wars, blackmailing,
prices rise, corporate fiddling, PM’s lying…
domestic violence, jealousy, child molesting,
antisemitic crime, rude awakenings,
Racist, religious hate crime, thieving…
Grim: Whoa, whoa… I was only joking!
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05:00hrs: I woke up; the moment I moved, I was greeted with severe pains in my left & right feet.  Onychovryptosis Ingrowing Toenails, damaged during the cutting, I had to pay £35 for last Friday. Bad as the pain was, I think it was a smidgeon easier than yesterday, but that was absolute agony! I decided then not to have the diabetic socks put on today. But daren’t leave them off for too long. Or the leg growths will start to leak again. I can’t win! Haha! Honestly, I do try!
I removed and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. I poured some into an old clear plastic yoghourt pot for the Carer to assess the NHS colour grading chart for me later, and then I took a photo of it (5.5 on the scale). 
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Moving to the kitchen after imagining that I’d done my balance exercises, I stubbed my right toe against the ottoman. A few curses, with a fair degree of swearing later, ARRGH!
The same left foot with the big toe was the problem a second time. I took a kitchenette shot en route to the wet room to visit the Porcelain Throne. Trosky’s comeback from yesterday was short-lived.
Had returned. A reluctant whopper was eventually released into the water, which needed three flushes, then a prod with a bamboo cane and a third flush to encourage it to the sewer. I hope it doesn’t cause a blockage. Hehehe!

07:00 hrs, Carer Ejaz arrived. He seemed happier today. I think my saying the socks will have to be left off and telling him why cheered him a little. The medications were issued, and he dabbed some barrier cream on the ingrowing toenails. Well, it might help. He also put some on the rough, thickening right ankle of .
Ejaz took these two shots of feet and poot little and big toes. The big toes seem to have gotten larger overnight? Is that possible? Both hallux toes also seemed to be curling beneath the other toes? Does anyone else out there have or had this before? The smaller toes seem to be more bent? Hey-Ho! Ajaz checked the torso for scabs, bruises, or wounds but found none. Well, a few new red-spot growths on the right top thigh. They come and go at will. After the lad had gone, I went to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and took this snap on the right when I saw how the sky had reddened.

At 13:30 hrs, Carer Jasmin arrived. She examined the toes and applied some Savlon. She said the toes (the ingrowing pair) had been cut down far too much when they were cut, Jasmin said.

Carer ‘Joe’ did the teatime call; he’s a good bloke.

Baked potatoes in husks, frankfurters, and nothing else. Well, I had an ice cream cornet for afters.

Night shots of the dramatic-looking sky.
And a close-up to follow.
They had a dour beauty, do you think?

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🤎Have a bundle of glee from me!🤎
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – Or summat like that – –
<<<>>><<<>>>
What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

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

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

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

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

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

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Friday 2nd May 2025

/ Inchie / 18 Comments

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STRANGE FACTS YOU MAY NOT WANT TO KNOW,
Things that happened as I began to grow,
Dad decided that to the park we would go…
To watch the cricket, I thought, oh, no,
I get more fun looking at a Picasso,
Can I go on the swings, Dad?
This seemed to make him mad,
He said, keep quiet and be a good lad!
I sneaked off for a walk about a tad,
Carrying football boots, I saw a lad,
I went to watch their game, naughty dingwad.
Trying to open the gate, I was tugging…
Hearing Dad’s voice, I hid absquatulating,
He didn’t see me; I found that amusing…
But not the following crushing…
It was my thumb, and it was bleeding,
Dad came over, saying… What a state!
“Thee thumb ends chopped off, me mate”,
The lad who’d run his car into the gate,
I recall his language was articulate…
Apologising, so there is no need to altercate,
The ambulate arrived, its bell ringing,

They took me to the children’s hospital A&E,
Put me on a waiting hall trolley,
A nurse checked the thumb & bandaged me…
Said that she’ll be back shortly,
I waited and felt a little sleepy,
Took me to the treatment room swiftly,
Said, “We’ll have to sew it back on” curtly,
Which they did, and very neatly,
Back out into the hallway…
You’ll stay here as a cautionery,
“You have been fearless, not cowardly!”
So, I had coped with the calamity,
I turned to look for a lavatory…
And had another Whoosiedangloppery,
I fell off of the trolley,
It doesn’t feel like it, but apparently…
But that was back in August 1950,
When they got me up, I’d broken my knee!
The start of my run of being unlucky,
What have I done successfully?
I’ve about run out of currency,
Born with the world’s tinniest ever Willie,
Cancer, shot, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Glaucoma, Cataract, at 23 I became a baldie,
Being nearly drowned later made me a deafie,
Got made redundant when I was 63,
Then, they fitted a mechanical aorta in me,
Cartilages giving way, then Reflux Roger,
Then the devil infected me with Anne Gyna,
Haemorrhoids, colour-blind, then another catastrophe,
Ingrowing toenails, having to pay for chiropody,
Hearing aids, spectacles, & lost my mobility,
Taxed on my pension… Oh, did I mention…?
Starmer stole my winter fuel allowance from me!
I cannot claim to have been over-lucky,
I may need help psychosomatically,
Psychologically, I live abnormally,
I’m getting help, the falls team agreeably…
Will visit to aid my recovery,
They will help me significantly,
The Carers do, definitely…
But it’s all too costly!
I am a proper moaner,
Most of my ire is self-anger,
Leaving hot taps to run colder,
Doors open, fridge flowing over,
I’ve turned into a grammaticaster,
Many traits & skills that I cannot master!
No point in becoming a reprehender,
Starmer’s done well, and he’s a cheat & liar!
His father was a toolmaker,
That’s true; he made a useless one named Keir!
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Less time left than ever before after making this Ode!
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04:15hrs: I woke, removed the catheter pouch, and went to the wet room to get the cleaning up done &
sorted out. I was feeling, well, not perkier, but better than I have done for a few mornings.
I checked the computer email in case any of the medics had sent me an update.
I realised the snaps below, taken last night by Carer Ejaz, are rare. ‘Rain’ was missed in yesterday’s blog. I plead Guilty!

There were no cuts, and the bruised eye looked bad. Not really, but it made me sound brave! Hehe!
The ulcers and were far less vivid this morning.
Some new growths had appeared near DVD veins.
At teatime, I showed Carer Joe. There were new ones, and those in the photo had been leaking from a tiny spot on top of each one that had dried hard.
Another of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles?

Mini-seizures and doing the gloriously silly Ode above ensured I spent hours and hours slogging away, constantly getting slower. Several hours were lost.

A social team member (I can’t recall the name)rang me, reminding me to call the doctors to get an appointment with her – one might as well have called Putin and asked him to kindly stop killing people; the result is the same.
Apparently, the Doctor asked Matron Jackie to tell me to make one. Then, the Doctor requested that Social remind me. I can only get there with a Carer on a Wednesday. When Carer ‘Joe’ rang for me, he was told that the Doctor does her home calls on a Wednesday. After talking with the organiser, the best he could offer was for fifteen-thirty, on the fourth of June. But this is only protem. Carer ‘Joe’ said he’ll see if he can get cover or make changes for that day. He’ll have to ring them back to make it for another day if he can’t get things arranged for that day.

The costly nail cutter from the hair salon came up to do them at ‘ten minutes’ notice. This threw out my plots for the Ode and delayed me even further. Tsk!
I’d just had a mini seizure and was not totally compos-mentis. Nice gal. Hurt a bit on the ingrowing nail toes. In fact… ARRGH! Hehe!

I’ve got a potato in the oven to try making cheesy spuds. But, on a low light. It’s the last call of the day, Ejaz, I think it will be. He’s due over the next hour; I’ll not start eating until he’s gone. Then, the feasting will start. Hahaha! I’ll turn the heat down on the oven so they don’t burn.

Back with an update in T’morning’!

Good Morning!
Carer Ejaz arrived.
I took these snaps of the sun going down with my (donated) Kodak 2a.
Then, about a minute later.
The sun was moving down quickly.

The ready-made meal was shepherd’s pie, a baked potato, and two cheese-topped bread rolls.
Another tasty meal! Great!

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All the best of luck!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 30th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Our intentions may well be admirable,
But are they needed and desirable?
If they happen to be altruistical?
Are the benefits given physical or ethereal?
Endurable, sustaining or apothegmatical?
Will this incite the recipient to turn greedful?
I don’t want to appear hyperbolical,
After all, I’m fallible and infeasible,
Arguing over things, possibly mental,
fear of numbers, I love anything anecdotal,
Still working out the meaning of biopsychosocial,
Calculations and maths, to me, are cryptical,
Logic, commonsense, I often find chimerical.
Seizures can sometimes make me feel extrinsical,
Leaving me feeling depressed and inimicable,
Things I did 78 years ago are now unfathomable.
I’m not a part, essential, or even integral…
An unmoving nomad, innate, incognoscible, 
When Happy Horis visits, I get incorrigible…
If Depressing Duncan returns, then I feel terrible!
It’s only with me that I get argumental,
Obviously, we don’t need to go all aetiological,
It’s a practicality to be commonsensical,
Seek for the localised idiosyncratical,
Things may not become clear or irenical,
No need to search for the inexplicable,
Don’t spend valuable time on the impenetrable.
Remember, we are not powerful or juridical…
If baffled, then make yourself a foxhole.
Still don’t understand? That’s fantasmagorical,
Still struggling, I’ll write you another oracle!
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Another busy, confusing day for the old groat! 
Carer ‘Joe’ did two calls, and Carer Ejaz did the other two. Phone calls from Matron and Nurse June. Nurse Helen told me to make an appointment, as requested by the Doctor, to see her. I hope to get one for on Wednesday, then Carer ‘Joe’ can accompany me. Asked him to ring surgery tomorrow afternoon if he does the afternoon call tomorrow. 
Made a few cock-ups again. I believe it’s the arithmaphobia that caused most of them.
Ejaz took some snaps for me today of the outdoors. He noticed I’d got the micro-shakes. Bless him. 
Carer ‘Joe’ & Ejaz both helped me out last and this week. And with all the action from the medical front, you wouldn’t believe how appreciative I feel. Fair enough, I’m still with it enough to feel embarrassed at not being able to do things for myself. 
As I pointed out earlier, I believe the issue with the battery delivery and the microwave meal delivery was due to dates, times, and numbers. 
But were they? I think so; I experienced three waves of panic over the last two days as I misread or misunderstood the most straightforward advice and instructional details. Arithmaphobia?
I’ve been meaning to look up Ménière’s disease, the condition the nurse mentioned.
But have I done it yet? No!
To date, I have confirmed some appointments.
The four-wheeled walker is expected to arrive on Friday. Followed by a BRCCS Technician to sort it out and point out handling and safety features.
In abeyance, waiting for confirmation of the visit to the doctor next Wednesday or a later Wednesday so I can go with Carer ‘Joe’, who is aware of my actions and can explain things to me as they are.
On the 15th May. Nickie to do a walker assessment.
On the 23rd, Physio from Manuel.
Awaiting appointment for the Glaucoma lasering.
I’ve missed it on my calendar, but Nurse Caroline is coming to conduct the Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment assessment. Alternatively, I need to go to Nuthall Hospital to have it done. But when?
Nurse June rang, but I can’t remember what it was about. Thanks to a seizure, things did not register. At least, I think that’s why. Just photos from here on with what I can recall of them. The earlier ones hold a more explicit memory.

My morning shot before going to the wet room.

Things went okay, I think. One cut shaving
Medicating was easier this morning because I only had to do about half of them, and the intercom chimed out. Naturally, I went back into the wet room and continued dressing without medicating.

Carer Ejaz arrived. He barrier-creamed the ankles, which looked a little more likely to erupt into seeping from . Ejaz took some shots from the kitchen window for me.
Bluey blotches on this one?
Great shot, Ejaz!
Nice one. Is that smoke I see?

Blogging. It took me hours and hours, and I was still nowhere near catching up. Huh!

Mystery afternoon, and I don’t know why?

Ejaz evening call shots were taken for me.

I prepared a mixture of food and placed it in a microwavable container. Later, when I decided to add some mini-roast potatoes, there would be no room in the dish. So, while the spuds were cooking in the oven, I transferred the mix to a larger dish to use in the microwave. In the mixture went a can of vegetable curry, a ready meal of beef in black bean sauce, garden peas, water chestnuts, carrots and some extra Bisto gravy.
Lip-licking luxury!

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Have a Great Day!
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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

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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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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