Mind blanks

Inchy Today: Thursday 15th May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ah, much better!

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

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

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CHEERS MIDDEARS!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 13th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The potatoes were removed from the oven and put on a tray with some bread. I added some cut tomatoes, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV to eat the meal.
It took me a while to eat it all, but I did!
Then, heaven… Zzz!
Carer Ejaz woke me up two hours later.
He removed my diabetic socks and mended the nocturnal catheter-damaged day bag. He also added a tube from another point to the current one. I checked the kitchen and bathroom and got my head down, but I forgot to put the nocturnal catheter pouch on. It’s hard to believe, I know.

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

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

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

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

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

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 1st May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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

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

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

Finished in the wet room.

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

After noon snaps.
Front car park.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Have a great day, each!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 13th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Inchy Today: Wednesday 2nd April 2025 Audio Clinic

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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>>>>><<<<<
Let’s see what’s on today’s agenda…
If allowed to by my aprosexia,
First, try to avoid anoxia,
Getting worked up into dysphoria,
Ignore my graphomania,
Prepare for the hereinafter,
Get through the pain of my dyschezia!
>>>>><<<<<
A speedo or an accelerometer,
I’d call it a speedometer,
But unsafe speeding; I’m an abnegator,
I’d sooner get there later,
Not in hospital on a ventilator,
Not that this is exactly ataraxia,
The food is not exactly ambrosia!
>>>>><<<<<
I was born with things homuncular,
And misshaped things testicular,
It didn’t bother me particular,
It did later, howsomdever,
Girls interested in my hylomania,
They drove me into habromania,
Now I use a haemacytometer!
>>>>><<<<<
Soon, henceforth-in future,
As I get more ancienter,
I meet more with the Grim Reaper,
Not like the expected harbinger,
He’s no shyster, or defrauder,
Just a long-dead, soul collector,
Trying to make your death pleasanter!
>>>>><<<<<
I take-not in anything jentacular,
Porridge, cornflakes, grits, Ergh!
I was told not to by a medical advisor,
He was found to be a drug-abuser,
He became the prison beekeeper…
I don’t understand either!
>>>>><<<<<
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WEDNESDAY, 2nd APRIL 2025
I had even fewer jumping awakes last night.
Thought Storming Steve was the culprit for the majority of these almost nightmarish events. Although the tormenting, mocking, blame-apportioning flood of self-abuses and guilty past actions were vivid in my mind each time I was woken up, they faded swiftly, in time for me to regain my state of slumber. TSS started over with, I think, different bits of guilt-giving and blame over my past errors & bad choices.

After sorting the waste bags and getting the night catheter removed and classified as a ‘5’ on the NHS scale, I went through the same things I had yesterday when preparing for the Audio Clinic lift, which I’m sure will come today.
Ablutions and medicationalisings are done. I was on the computer when the Caregiver arrived. He issued the prescription medications. I had to ask him for Peptac, and Ahram used some Porpain Gel on the right catheter, which had given way on me while Ahram was here. He got the socks on for me and asked me if I needed the shoes on, which I did.  
A good job that he remembered!

The computer allowed me to save the top two graphics and nothing else.

I checked the bag I was taking with myself; everything seemed to be there. Then, I visited the Porcelain Throne and checked the contents of the three-wheeled walker again. I will have to add my reading glasses.

I got readied and entered the ground floor foyer with the three-wheeled walker.
I met my friend Jenny’s other half there and chatted about old age. We found we had many similar annoying age-related problems. Haha!

A little late, but not a lot—merely a few minutes—the EasyLink minibus arrived with no trousers on to make access to the catheter bag easy. As I went through the door, the wind blasted up my privates something awful. Hehehe!
An accident had delayed the lad. He got me up the lift and settled in, but I only had my last tenner to pay him, and he had no change. So, he told me to pay for both journeys when I got picked up at 13:00 hrs. We had to go to West Bridgford and were taken to the same place. The traffic was delayed due to road works in West Bridgford.
I went inside the waiting room and waited. 
But once I registered, I was summoned in a short while. I went to the treatment room with a pretty young Asian girl who could not easily understand my Nottingham accent. She got both hearing aids working again within ten minutes or so. She changed the tubing on them, and now it sounds like everyone is shouting at me. Har-Har!

I’d got an hour before the pick-up time. Luckily, I’d taken the crossword book and a pen with me.
I snuggled into a chair and fell asleep!
At one point, I mentioned my many nodding offs to a receptionist if she had seen anyone with an EasyLift uniform on. She hadn’t.
But I dare not sit down again. I saw the sunshine through the door windows and decided it would be safer and less chance of missing the lift if I went outside to wait for EasyLift. I’d only got twenty minutes or so to wait. The bus arrived after 40 minutes of wind blowing anywhere and everywhere it could, and the catheter was filling up later.

There was another accident in the City Centre, and buses were rerouted.
The driveress did a grand job of getting me back to the flats. I was a little worried because Carer Joe said earlier that he would call at 0130hrs when I should be back by then.
After parking, paying the bill and getting off the bus, Joe approached us. Very understanding, he half-expected us to be late with the news about the accidents and road works on the news.

He took the laundry down and put it in the washer. He then returned to the flat and checked an email I was dubious of.
Joe started sorting out the junk room one. He got a lot done in half an hour. He went down to collect the laundry from the dryer, pointing out that he’d have to bring it up part-wet because he’d done his time. I asked him to leave it and that I’d fetch it later. “Don’t Forget To!” he said. With the hearing aids now working, I heard him.

Amazingly, I remembered to. The sad part is that not one was allowed to go on file of all the photos I took in the laundry room. There is definitely Something Wrong Here!

I pressed on with the day’s blog.

Then, I hand-washed a Khagoule and hung it to drip dry from a coathanger in the wet room. But I made the mistake of forgetting I’d put the heater on to help it dry. I did, but that was hours later and a few quid less in my pocket! Humph! Thanks to Starmer stopping we pensioners’ fuel allowance and allowing power charges to go up by 40% since he cheated and lied his way into office!

Suddenly, it was almost time for Joe to make his teatime call. I was getting hungry now. But I’ll wait until the chap calls. I think I’ll have a microwave meal and some bread to fill me up. Or maybe choose the much-loved potato cakes and a vegetable pastie.

I doubt I can use the photo, but I’ll try again tonight with the potato cakes and vegetable pasty.

Back in the morning, I hope.

Back with the bad news of the potato cakes and vegetable pasty feast…
Depressed, sick & tired of bothering to do anything, but why, you ask (I hope), I’ll tell and show you…

I put the feast in the oven to cook for 25 minutes and returned to shut down the computer, which promptly seized up on me and granted me a blue screen of death! It took me a lot of time, over three hours, to toy with the unknown and risk getting it back running. I do not know what I was doing, but it worked after I rebooted. I had to sign into everything again and check on CorelDraw to find that most photos had magically disappeared again!
Anny Gyna gave me her first nasty attack of the day… and as I was searching for the mended hearing aids to put in…
I became aware of the burning and a little smoke entering the room.
The food had dried hard & mega-crispy.
When I squeezed one of the potato cakes, it turned into a little stack of black crumbs!
Very disappointed with myself. My self-lambasting and lousy language flowed. I wanted to spit!

I got a Sweet & Sour ready meal from the freezer and microwaved it.
I ate it with some slices of Milk Roll Bread and dunked it in the sauce. Which were the highlights of the meal.

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Thanks everyone!
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Acci-Whoopsies Sat 8th Feb 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A painful day and night today!

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Evening… or, Morning Each

 

Inchy: Friday 7th February 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare,
I speak to those with compassion in their agenda,
Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger…
To those who self-profit is not their main allure,
Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator…
Even if they fail on the alcoholometer!
: : : : :
Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair,
Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater,
Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer,
A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander,
To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer,
He comes across as a blind bullshitter!
: : : : :
Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder,
I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer,
In 1968. Starmer became a barrister,
In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer,
1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber,
Then became the Labour Party Führer!
: : : : :
Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter,
The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber,
The everyday growing creepier and dishonester,
Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller,
This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter,
This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur!
: : : : :
I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver,
Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer!
If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser,
I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor!
Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor!
Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania!
: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
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I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
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Up at 0540hrs:
The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6

Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!

Carer Richard made the first call.

I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first.  and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now! 

As messy as it could be!

I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had.
The world… and my world is going mad!

From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away.
Bags out in the flat lobby.
Started emptying them.
I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr!
The fridge still had room in it!

Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.

Getting late now. Tsk!

Getting dark already.

Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.

I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.

Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully).
I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!

07:30hrs Saturday.
I’m Back! Hehe!
I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself!
Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) 
Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty.
I got seated 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.
The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started.
rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me.
All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe!
I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.

The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all?
No was the answer!
But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.

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Fare Thee all well!
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Inchy: Thursday 6th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Grim: Ayeup, Inchy!
Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me!
Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy!
Inchy: Wot?
Grim: Yer always greet me affably,
Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family!
Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see?
Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy,
my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND,
Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily,
Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? 
Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly!
Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day!
Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, 
At making friends, I lost the ability…
Being flat-bound, & many a disability,
Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me,
Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny…
Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie…
So, despite everything, I feel lucky,
I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery…
Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity!
When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me!
Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony!
Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly…
Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly…
Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly,
Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity?
Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery,
Cephalometry, specifically craniometry,
I go willingly and happily…
Grim: Why happily & willingly? 
Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready,
Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness,  despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? 
Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious,
How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness?
Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening,
Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating…
Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating!
Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating,
one event watery, the next constipating…
Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting…
Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking!
Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing,
The stove blew up, so; no cooking,
The intercom broke, so there was no communication…
Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in,
Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing,
Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching!
When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming…
Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting,
While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing,
Someone may also be texting or emailing…
Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing!
The Catheter bag slowly filling…
Back to the flat for emptying,
Usually when the delivery will be arriving!
Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying,
And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding!
Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating,
Then my grip on things starts deteriorating,
Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting,
Dementia & PN, I start chastising,
The computer requires defragging,
But how to, I’m not remembering,
Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling,
The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating…
My mind turns to food and eating,
The bread is wet from the bottles bursting,
Soaked with a shandy flavouring,
Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning,
Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting!
And you wonder why I don’t mind dying?
Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
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04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.

I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.

I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once.
The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?

I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so,  had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.

So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.

I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.

Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.

I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).

Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.

I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.

I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.

Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.

New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,

An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed my rent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me.
At the bottom, I found this:
‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’!
I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!

I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!

I went to get the meal cooked. I  had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?

Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!

MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW!
What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on 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. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! 
Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no!
Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!

Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I  was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.

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Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
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Inchy: Monday 3rd February 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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Humankind, the epitome of entanglement,
Each human individually so different,
Some are passive, some violent, some truculent…
Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant,
Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent!
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The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent,
The poor, without clean water, living in a tent,
The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant,
The lying greedy shower in Parliament,
Those mentally challenged & obmutescent!
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The law-abiders, who are so obedient,
Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent…
No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent,
The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent…
The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant!
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The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance,
The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment…
Stewing inside with injustice & resentment,
Outwardly displaying mock-contentment,
Their hopes & desires are only ruminant!
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The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant,
They forget things, making them more inconscient,
Those without catheters may become incontinent,
Their life’s meaning turns intervenient,
Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent!
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The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient!
Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment,
Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent,
I can no longer afford to get myself temulent,
Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment!
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I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt…
What chance of my body and brain’s renascence?
I often go off track, lose the plot and scent…
Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent…
For years, my body has been going putrescent,
Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment,
I’ll leave this Ode as my testament!
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I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in!  04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe!
I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!


I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them.
I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha!
When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes!
After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. !
I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!

The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream on and feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.

I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!

After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!

I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.

I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!

After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!

I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.

Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.

While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added.
Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!

Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.

I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?

Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!

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Here’s Mud in your Eye!
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