Neuropathic Myoclonus

Inchy: Masses of Mayhem Monday 9th December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

I am shattered! I’d been doing this blog on and off (a busy day) for about eight hours. And, considering all the nurse’s visits and telephone calls with disturbing and good news, I was pleased with how much I’d got done come 19:00hrs.
I LOST THE WHOLE LOT!
I’VE NOT THE FOGGIEST IDEA WHAT I DID TO LOSE IT!
So here I am starting again after saving later photos as older ones to save memory. I’m in the shit! I even lost the 32 lines of my Ode! I am pissed off with myself and not exactly full of interest in trying again. The Carer who read it thought it was great… which makes me feel worse! I am not in a good place. Damned seizures must be to blame, or instead, whatever I did that cost me a day’s work! There just isn’t enough time to do it all as well again as I did.

Fed up! HEARTBROKEN!
My eyesight is bad. I’m so tired and weary of having two sleepless nights. The right hearing aid has broken down.
No way! I have not had time to reproduce what I thought was a fantastic Ode. So, after a day of struggling with other things, this happens! So, after all my work, getting this blog fully detailed with plenty of whitty bits scattered in it will have to be a rush job. Sorry! I’ll do my best. Even if it means a third sleepless night!
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I went to see Doctor Downing,
Who said I was rough-looking,
Have you done nowt about yer coffin?
I said Well, no! (between my coughing),
She said, “Well, put yer hearing aids in!”
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I must have tried to sleep for nine hours last night. How can someone be so tired and worn out and ‘not’ sleep? I can; that was the second sleepless night. I tried on the hospital bed, then moved into the second-hand, 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. But with and Anne Gyna, there was no chance. I gave up hope and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch, then went to make a brew of 99 tea. And I enjoyed it, despite nearly dropping it when I took to the computer. The need for the Porcelain Throne arose.

I went back to the kitchen and took snaps of the morning view. It was raining still. I first took a poor-quality shot of what I mistakenly called Venus yesterday. Tim Price informed me it was Jupiter. Then a straight-ahead view of the lights from the streets of Sherwood.
Another poor effort.
I started the 32 lines of the Ode. (That I lost along with the rest of the blog eight hours later). Cragknangles, Thunderisations! Criggleblogsworthisms! Grobognangles! Frangleklops! Oy-yoy-yoy! Crigglebogsnot! Grobbleknangles! Grufflemoan! Skullgranglebonks! Granglespithowlations! & Grobbledamitt!

Carer Richard arrived. I’m sure I had many mini-bouts while Richard was here.
Fifteen minutes of hazyness. 

I struggled to return and find where and what I was doing on the blog. I took a breather and tried to add to and remove some items on my Asda order for Wednesday. No, it’s Tuesday or tomorrow! That means I have to be up early, it’s coming at 0600 to 0700hrs. And here I am, two sleepless nights, and it is already gone, 2200hrs. I’m doing the blog I lost again. I am so frustrated! Anyway, I couldn’t sign in on the Asda site. I spent a fair time trying to get in without any luck. So, I changed the password for the third time. Care Chloe arrived with more distractions. She helped me write the new complicated password clearly, but it would not let me in. I decided to try again later. Same thing, no-go. So, I tried using Firefox and got in. By then, I’d forgotten what I wanted to add and remove the order. Is it worth me trying to carry one?

Eventually, despite reinvigorated attacks from Ann Gyna and Shocking Sherida, I got back into a system of sorts and was doing well on the blog. (The first one, of course)

Matron Jackie arrived, and we spoke about the medications and prescription getting difficulties. She told me the Doctor had just sent the prescription today to the chemist. So it should be ready for collection on Wednesday; I explained the procedure to Carer Richard, who is in control.

Then a lovely nurse turned up; Matron Jackie had asked her to visit me so she could… Ahem!
Check  on my arms, man breasts and chest. Which was fine by me.
Also, the catheter strap scars, ,  , My mandarin-sized testicle,  condition, and the welts and pressure spots on my flabby stomach. I think I masked my true feelings, okay. The nurse told me I was wearing the day pouch too low.
We spoke of the creams that I think are at the Chemist and are now awaiting collection from Carrington. I pointed out that the Caregiver (Richard) calls each Monday, sorts out which medications are needed, and lets the Doctor know. He called this morning, and there were no prescriptions for me there.
She thought the Carers applied the creams on me and helped me bathe. I said they do not, and I’ve never asked them to. The nice nurse will let Matron Jackie know about the ailments and medications when she gets back to base.

I got back to blogging. With all the breaks, it was enough to concentrate on the work (without losing it all!   Cribblebogangonies! Glunglegnatsworth! Skullgranglebonks! Cracklepackers!

I was just about to investigate what I would have for my meal (This was 7 hours ago now, and I’ve still not got it, having to do the blog twice). Dungunblast! And the landline chirruped.
It was Matron Jackie ♥. She’s been busy helping me out. She confirmed that the cream and lotions will be ready for collection from the Carrington Pharmacy on Wednesday.
She had arranged for future prescriptions to be sent to a different chemist, Jaypoen, in Daybrook. She confirmed they would take me on their list. The best part is that they will deliver the prescriptions to the flats! I looked on Google Maps and got this picture of the shop. Obviously, I misheard Matron; it was Jayplex Chemist, not Jaypoen. It is much nearer than the Carrington shop on Mansfield Road in Woodthorpe.
But if I do have to go there, there is a darned steep hill to use to get me there. Hey-Ho! I don’t think I would manage it in my condition. Well, I know, I tried a few months ago.

THE CALAMITY OCCURED!
So, I started this second blog.
I am just too tired and will try to finish it in the morning.
I did take two snaps, though, when I was making the stew in the crock pot. The rain has stopped now, and it is getting dark so early. A little later, I spotted what I thought was Venus in the dark sky. I now know that it is Jupiter. Tim Price pointed out my . I’m very good at them, you know. Hang on, with the cock-up, I think I took the Jupiter shot in the morning. Yes, I must have cause this is the other snap I took tonight. I’ve got in such a mess; I already put the Venus Jupiter one on! Humph!
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My primary reaction to today
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TTFN.

Scratchy Inchy: Sunday 8th December 2024

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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At the bayou, having mayhap a barbecue,
Or you may be out hunting deer or caribou?
Answering the taxman’s letter at your bureau,
On the Porcelain Throne, using the tissue?
With your beloved, about to bill and coo, 
Or just thinking, what’s the world coming to?
At the bar, having your 13th drinkypoo?
Watching a movie, The Battle of Waterloo?
Eating your takeaway curry with aloo?
Enroute to hospital after a blanscue?
Practicing fencing or jujitsu?
Just back from holidaying in Limpopo?
You could be shopping, waiting in a queue?
At the Zoo, looking at a sucuruju?
At a show, Hard Rock or burlesque?
Sorting out a medical snafu?
The 4-minute warning sounds… Woo-Woo-Woo!
What do you do? – Cause it’s due!
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Māori: A hill in Porangahau, New Zealand.
Name In English; ‘Music playing at the same time’.
The longest place name in the world.
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I woke around 03:00hrs, fell asleep and shot awake again at around 06:00hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the catheter day pouch. I emptied and wrapped the pouch up for disposal.
When I made these, I found I had an intense thirst. So, I made some bottles of spring water and flavoured them: orange and pineapple in different measures for the small bottles and lime juice for the larger ones.
When starting to sort the waste bags, I  needed the Porcelain Throne. I grabbed and we poddled off to the wet room.
Constipation Conrad was still in charge, but I felt less pain & it bled less. The two- and three-toned colours had gone. This visit, it was back to a light Kharki.

I washed as I insist on this thrice a week, even if not needed. Hehe! I put the compiled bag near the front door. And back to the blog.

I took this shot of the view from the kitchenette window when I went to check that I’d not left the hot water tap running. It doesn’t show, but it was raining. I returned to the computer and took a snap of the ancient clock diary thingamabob. It showed 0623hrs as the time. So, I misread read it earlier?

I struggled with the things I had got wrong and changed yesterday. Some of the corrections were wrong as well. So I had a go at sorting my own made mess. arrived, so I immediately knew I would be in a quagmire when I returned to the sorting after Shaquille had gone. I’d had a sort of pre-warning that depression & irritability were imminent for me to suffer. It was right, too!

Shaq was his usual calm, laid-back self. A nice lad. He got the medications sorted and issued. He put my diabetic socks on for me. It is much appreciated; it is blooming cold today. The lad left, and I returned to computer cock-up sorting…

I got into a chronological turmoil that left me just hoping things would come out right. I was lost, really. I had photos and graphics spread over three days of templates.
I thought at least three times that I’d got it right. But, No! I think I was more confused than when I first discovered them on yesterday’s blog. !
I gave up and hoped for the best. Which was good timing cause kicked off. Things would have been impossible to sort out if she had been in action during my rescue efforts for the blog. Not that I think they have been sorted. Maybe they have been made less noticeable, conceivably. Whichever and whatever, I started to update the Saturday blog at long last. Hello, I wondered what that noise was. The rain and wind are coming again, but it’s gone dark! I’ll try to take a photo of the rain coming into the balcony.
I went through the doors into the balcony, and the rainwater came above the boardwalk planks, and I now have two more wet socks, slippers and feet!
Double Humph!
I took a shot from the end window as I got soaked. I must say that the weather looked horrible out there.
The mudslide appeared to be mammoth-sized. The wind howled, and rain poured as if thrown at us by the Gods above! As the stagnant-standing rain reached my left slipper toes. I got back into the flat post-haste.

arrived to do the afternoon visit. She looked at the blog and laughed at my writings about the terrible day that I was having. Hehehe! Not really, she laughed with me, not at me ♥.

I continued to get the blogging/correcting advance. It took me hours to get Saturday’s blog titivated enough to post it off.

I gave up on the computer and got a meal sorted. Early to bed for me, the plan was to eat, then sleep – needed desperately. I think that I ought to have enjoyed this meal. But didn’t. I threw most of it away. I believe this is due to a sleep-stopping bug I must have caught. 
As for the rest of the day, your guess is as good as mine up to about 21:30hrs. I was feeling suddenly shattered. I realised in the morning that I had been working on Sunday’s blog and had gotten a lot done. Made a mess of most of it, thanks to the weariness and multiple and persistent .
 Carer Ali answered the teatime call and asked if I wanted him to call the doctor. The doctor? On a Sunday evening? It was nice of him to ask and recognise my state. Looking back, I recall struggling to find the words as we spoke. Sheer fatigue, and I’d done very little physical activity all day? All I wanted to do was sleep. Huh! After he’d gone, I lay precisely where I was on the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Carer Richard arrived as I was nearly nodding off. I chirped up a little after getting up and stubbing my toe. I was, I think, communicating better.
Within a few minutes, my tiredness returned, and I was back in the recliner. I couldn’t get to sleep in the recliner, so I moved into the hospital bed. Then things got worse,  , and joined in, assisted with the odd sharp  interludes; this assured that it was another night of No-Sleep.
It was horrible, and I didn’t feel all that good on Monday morning (Now).
Poor old sausage.
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TTFNski
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Defective Inchy: Saturday 7th December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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PAREIDOLIABLE FIGURES IN THE SEA
FACES, THERE ARE 3 TO SEE.
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I’ve been left in the lurch, besmuched,
Abandoned, ignored, and besmirched,
At first, this left me puzzled…
Like a dog that had been muzzled,
But I’m no longer bothered or troubled,
As my concentration departed, well, idled,
To my inanity & insanity, I came beguiled…
At least when my ailments were still mild,
Soon, they permanently bivouacked…
In my brain, aliens boondoggled,
The inner voices spoke; well, bastinaded,
Often delirious, worryingly bloviated,
They’re me, really, so can’t be hated?
This fact is worthy of being debated,
But results have become complicated,
For relief & help I waited & waited,
As one does when one’s constipated,
At a minimum, insanity & I are related,
It’s myself that I’ve berated…
My problems can’t really be explicated,
I can & do, at times, feel enervated,
Causing more fears to be generated,
Often I’m feeling enfeebled, exhausted,
Decision-making gets debilitated,
Common sense practicality is ingurgitated,
Plans, choices made are perpended…
Worries for the future proliferated,
The simplest acts get shemozzled,
There’s always a reason to be wherrited,
Designs and choices get aberrated,
Lifting moments, hopes just get withered,
Now we’ve got storms to be weathered,
Thoughts unchanneled and cancelled…
Long ago, I became tee-totalled,
I Loved Trad Jazz & skiffled,
Socialised, lived, cohabited,
Memories are available that I stockpiled,
10-minutes ago memories, get abducted,
The catheter bag gets punctured,
Monthly, the bladder is irrigated,
And I grow evermore irritated,
Why? This ode has illustrated,
My hopes & desires get commandeered,
Dementia Doreen has no threshold!
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Carer Benjamin gI semi-stirred and nodded off several times. I was finally woken up with so much pain by Carer Christopher. The guilty ailments were Cataract Chloe, Back-Pain-Brenda and Littlee Inchies Fungal Lesion. A bit off-putting. It got worse as Chris was doing the medications and getting my socks on; I’m such the paid a few visits. Other than what’s been said, this visit was, or is, a blank for details this morning. Back-Pain-Brenda stayed with me all day long. I wondered if I was having sex in a dream and pulled something? Hahaha!
I emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch after Chris had gone and had a painful rinse and wash. BBB was giving me a lot of aggro again.

After running the CCleaner, I continued updating and made extra graphics to use tomorrow before the memory stopped me from saving. It was a clever idea, I thought. Now I wonder why I bothered! After doing them, I continued to put all the imported graphics and photos onto the Sunday blog in error! Then, I found myself even more confused than ever when I saw that I’d saved some for Saturdays and others for Sundays! By the time I had sorted them all out, the computer’s memory would not let me save any more. So, I reran the CCleaner and was satisfied that I had cured the mistake. I was satisfied I’d cured the mistake! Hahaha!
I discovered that I’d cleaned the Sunday graphics and put them on the Saturday page – then cut and pasted them instead of Saturday’s back on the Sunday page. Hang on, there’s more to come… These happened later, but it won’t matter; I’d got everything out of sync now. 
While still in the middle of trying again to get things back in order, the intercom rang. I thought it was the unintended food order arriving – but no! A tenant told me there was a box outside the foyer doors with my address on it. So kind of her. I hastened down in the lift, and the lady met me as the doors opened. She put the box in the lift cage, and I thanked her. I exited the lift and sent the cage down for the lady. Going through the flat lift lobby door, I got myself tangled in the door and floor when I dropped the walking stick and grabbed for the falling parcel! I got indoors and did my best to rub some pain gel on Back-Pain-Brenda. I took an extra Codeine. I was about to investigate the mess I’d made on Corel Draw, and Carer Joanne arrived. As she left, I got set to investigate again…
The intercom rang. This was the food order I didn’t remember making or wanting. 
Another packet of Chestnuts, two cans of water chestnuts, Meet-in-a-jar-Miestwo, fish sticks and black bean sauce.
I put the drinks in junk room three to keep them safe.
I put a few bottles underneath the computer in the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors that had long fallen off.
I took the waste from the wrappings to the waste chute.
No injuries falls, or trapped fingers were encountered; I dropped the walking stick several times.
I returned to the flat and noticed scuff marks near the lift door. I emailed the Low-Cost Food Store to inform them that I would not use their services again. I explained the problem with the food being left outside and my ailments. I haven’t received a reply yet!
The promised rain appeared I took this photo of it when I made something to eat as the evening approached seemingly in haste?.
I decided to take another look at today’s Accidauxpas.
I managed to get the snaps and graphics in the WordPress gallery. But all were out of order, which meant relying on my memory, Hahaha!
The gourmet meal I made for tonight’s feast is on the left.
Two herby cobs with Marmite and some out-of-sell-by-date chips from the freezer. Did them in the air-fryer. They tasted okay to me, well, wellish. So far behind with everything again. I tried to get a good WordPress Reader session, but I was getting so tired so early that it took the shine off. kicked of with venom. As the night approached with and both giving me what for painwise.

I was deep in sleep when Carer Chris came on his last call. He put on the night pouch and the diabetic day socks off, without hardly disturbing me. Bless him. 
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TTFNski each & all!
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Flawed Inchy: Friday 6th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Life is spent mainly in the flat here…
Doing my post in the blogosphere,
Accompanied by my leaking catheter,
Falling & forgetting things is regular,
My man breasts need a brassiere,
Waking into things while hobbling,
Forgetting to put my hearing aids in,
BP shooting up and then dropping,
Toppling over when diapering,
And as for the medicationing…
Certain areas are beyond reaching,
My being shaped like a flabby Buddha,
Ointmentating, like on the lesions puncture,
It must be comical to watch for any onlooker,
Like the poor first of the day calling Carer!
Christopher once burst into laughter,
Diabetic socks off, then on as it gets darker,
Well, I am now an ageing old codger,
I’m getting challenges arithmetically,
Can no longer rely on my memory,
Doing my best with ailments physically,
No help at all with my problems mentally,
Neuropathy, seizures, or dementially,
Neurotransmitters dying off, & FND,
I use a lot of Germolene & TCP,
Gladys Glaucoma, Toothache Tiffany…
Cartilage Carol (right) (left), it’s Chloe,
Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, daily,
Dizzy Dennis, Electric shocking Sherida,
Medication hearing aid batteries get costlier,
Shaving, with cuts via the razor,
The average ablution time is now two hours,
We’ve voted stealer-Starmer as Prime Minister,
I’m far worse off financially!
Some days, I live apathetically,
Or I struggle through, pathetically,
Got that old age quality – caducity…
Hence, I wrote this goliardery!
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I woke up and did some press-ups, a few squats, and a bit of shadowboxing. Then, I ran down 15 floors of the stairs and back up again.  Hahaha! 
At 06:00hrs, I stirred from my broken slumber. It took me six minutes to untangle the . Oddly, and a first, this was… I had six shocks in succession from the right ankle. No more for 10 hours!

And what a mess I’d made of taking the urine photograph. I’ve no idea what I did wrong. It was on the auto setting when I took the picture. Off to the wet room, I trudged and wobbled. 
It was another marathon session, and it took a lot of encouragement, forcefulness, and pain to get things to even start. Keeping the torpedo moving was difficult; it was so big again. I think the oohs and arghs might have helped a little. I had to use the long, stiff bamboo cane to break ‘things’ up so that the cistern could cope with getting the evacuated product down the pipes to the sewer. Phwor! 

I washed and medicated the delicate areas. Compared to yesterday, it was a real struggle to put on the fresh PPs. Went into the kitchenette. Where I took the photo above. Then, I saw a view on offer about five minutes later, with another shot of the same area, after I’d noticed the sudden change in the sky’s hue. Green to brown?
I sorted the waste bags and took them to the rubbish chute. It was 07:00 hrs now, so the noise of flying down the tube for 12 floors shouldn’t bother anyone. I hope it didn’t.

I got on the computer to update things, but this seemed to bother them, and they kept kicking off pretty regularly. Although I didn’t detect any long ones (of course, there may have been), it just meant I had to keep rechecking what I’d done while I was in La-La-Land. I did this, correcting a few errors while my concentration was disconnected. I’m doing poetry here without realising it!

I changed the day & dates on my super-advanced, new-to-me clock/calendar thingamabob.
I thought that having this and altering it daily would help me remember the day, date and time better. It doesn’t! I’m sure it must have been made in the 1970s, but I like it.

Taking this shot later, from the kitchenette window, Carer Christopher arrived. The nibbles & drinkies were attacked with some style. Hehe!

The lad sorted the medications, then he put the diabetic socks on my legs and replaced the bag for me. Bless him. 

This view of Junk Room one was snapped. I wandered into the kitchen to take one of Junk Room Two. A whiff of guilt was scented, but not for long.
I checked in the fridge for the use-before dates that I could read. They seemed good to me.

At this point, I involuntarily passed the loudest and longest burst of leg-bending, body-lifting wind that has ever escaped my rear-end in 70-odd years! 
I just thought I’d mention it!

Eventually, I got the Thursday blog sent off, as Carer Joanne arrived for the midday call. 
Despite continuing, I pressed on with the blogging of this post. But it was gruellingly slow going.
I could call it torturously, but I won’t.

Embarrassingly, a Tesco food order arrived. I think it’s best to try to stop having food delivered. Weather, time, and health permitting, I might try to get to Heron’s food store in Sherwood instead. I’ll phone Jenny when I find out whether the nurse will call. I’m not with it at this moment. But I must stop having all these unwanted deliveries.
Confused? Me? Yes!

I did something I’d not done in a while  as I hastened to get to the intercom in time to admit the delivery driver. Not that it bothered me; naturally, I laughed it off with gay abandonment.

The driver put the things in the boxes without any hesitation for me. And I placed them in the hallway. It was a learning curve for me emptying the bins. Cause I was blown away if I could remember making the order in the first place. Obviously, it must have been done during one of the prolonged seizures last week. I put the cleaning materials in junk room three. Then, I emptied the box; why did I order two packets of microwave sausages? I’ve already got a packet of frankfurters in the fridge! And I got desserts when I’ve got all those jellies in the refrigerator? And I got more bacon and different types of bread rolls! I’m losing it here! There is no doubt about it. Inchy’s lost it!
The fridge is looking fuller now, and with Carer Chris’s help, I discovered that I have another delivery coming tomorrow!
I think I need help.

Depressed now. Fed up, confidence shattered. Feelings of self-hating and embarrassment flooded over me.

I photographed the evening view and went back to writing this blog post. I’m not sure how I feel now. I would generally have been so angry with myself. But now I just feel depressed at my inability to control my own actions and life. Cognitive Impairment Iris, Diabetic Doreen Dementia and FND have beaten me.

Carer Chris made his next-to-last call. I continued here for a while and then sorted out a meal. Can anyone guess what the things on the food tray are? I’m not sure myself.
Thanks to this morning’s (Sat) repeated seizures and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, with Glaucoma Gladys being in one of her foggy-misty-view modes.
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Cheers!
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Blotchy Battered Inchy: Wednesday 4th December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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I dreamed I was on stage in an amphitheatre,
Amphitheatre, what’s that? I’ve no idea,
I’ll have to look it up, oh dear!
Greek and Roman Colosseum architecture,
As I was dancing, I burst my ankle’s blister…
I fell off the stage, what a bugger…
Got the thumbs down from Caesar,
As out of a cage came a large gladiator,
I felt the flow from my fast-filling ureta…
Then came a lion, the Christian eater…
Oddly enough, they fought each other,
But I wasn’t yet out of bother,
They told me I’d be eaten by the winner,
I told them, I said I’m a Sun-God sinner…
And I come from the far-distant future,
Anyway, the lion won and ate me for his dinner.
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Another messy day. So far behind, it was (is) Thursday morning. Carer Richard just departed at 08:10hrs, and I just started here updating this blog – as for today (Thur), I might get that blog done by about next November. Assuming I’ve not been sectioned and sent to fearfully scary Old Peoples Home by then. At least now, after signing up to pay for extras on the cCleaner, the computer is letting me save photos for a change. (This changed an hour later, which somehow I anticipated and expected). Gullible, that’s me!
So it’ll have to be a quick job, as more nurses are coming today and another tomorrow. The ‘Scary’ one, tomorrow.
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A scary red in the urine. Graded by the 
care as a seven on the NHS scale.

Misty morning view.

A lengthy, hurtful experience.

The next few hours I spent entertaining unwanted or asked for  . I was getting nowhere fast. Time costing errors galore! was on the rampage. Carers, the nurse, and deliveries ensured that until around 16:00hrs, I was again in La-La land. The computer’s photos permitted entry onto this blog, making up for my lack of reminder notes. Sometimes, I can’t cope with things quickly when I’m dwelling in La-La Lane. On the other hand, sometimes I don’t care or realise it.


My Oder Commeth…
Not a lot.
Cream cakes for ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie. But I couldn’t reach them; they were in a meeting. 
So the Carers got an extra treat instead.
I filled up the bikkie barrel with some of my favourite cookies. LU & Maryland Vegans. Nice!

Then declined to almost none, just the odd short one now and then. (I started again when I got in bed). I gave up on blogging, as I seemed to be going backwards! I spent an inordinately long time preparing the evening’s meal. I cooked some battered chicken lumps in the air fryer and put some sweet & sour sauce, adding some chestnuts and garden peas in the microwave five minutes before the chicken’s cooking times ETA. I put them all in a bowl and washed the pots and air fryer basket. After checking taps, the fryer, microwave and fridge doors were closed, I was working out how best to safely carry the tray of food and walking stick simultaneously, and the Carer arrived. He rushed through the medications and creaming, whipped off the diabetic socks & attached the catheter’s nocturnal bag.
I was going to take a photo of the meal as usual, but I got distracted. Realising this just as I got to the end of my eating spree. Hehehe! 
So I took this belated shot, then whoofed down the bits remaining on the tray. Gorgeous!

Just gone midnight, I wrestled my lumberingly flabby-bellied body into the hospital bed. That being said, sleep took a while to arrive, but it was lovely when it did!
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Keep Safe, and have some funny frolics!

Inadequate Inchy: Tuesday 3rd December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Would you know if someone gave you a zeitgeber?
Does that serve as a signal, hint, or option?
If you don’t know it matters not soever,
The question was an aberration…
There rumbling again in my viscera,
Yesterday, a seizure went on for an aeon,
It’s expected for folks of my generation,
And have you seen the state of the Nation?
From violater Starmer’s promised denigration,
I’m daily going from the Trots to constipation,
Finding time for some contemplation…
I’m not educated; I’m a bit of a wiseacre,
My decisions drop to a state of abstention,
This bothers me much, but I can’t remember…
My original aim, thought, or intention…
Of my Ode subject with lucubration,
The grey-cells messages are labyrinthian,
I live without laudation or admiration,
Bad luck and doom seem to be my obsession,
Hence, this ode & my typomania…
Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, in short, MMM…
Often gets me feeling angrier,
Wanting to reach out again for my Sangria!
In my head is a juxtaposition, a contiguity,
Rich & poor, the rich wanting, getting more,
Darkness vs light, good vs. Bad, ever contrary,
My thoughts argue accusatively, acerbically,
My brain invaders occupiers disagree,
They question my very corporeality,
Where I question the same, well, mostly me,
The election result, Bye-bye Tory story,
Herr Starmer’s Labour winning,
Pensioners & Farmers losing…
Still, I suppose it stops them boozing?
Much too much violence and killing,
Parole Board; murders, they let them free,
So, they can and do kill again, you see,
This is wrong, says the bible and me!
The Quran (60:8) seems to agree…
Yet wars continue on earth daily,
HMG rules not affectionately or effectively,
They concentrate on being self-beneficiary,
No help from any God, Alien or banshee…
The world will soon be human-free,
When I discover the date, most certainly…
I lose my worries over not being able to pee,
I’ll await the end seemingly, patiently,
Laughing and drinking Glengettie tea!
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Partner failed to call for help as his bed-bound partner died as she lay on the floor for 11 days!

A bed-bound Nottinghamshire woman died after her partner left her on the floor for 11 days when she fell out of bed. Nottingham Crown Court heard how, for all the time, Caron Kinsey had been helplessly lying there, and Christopher Tansley had failed to summon any help. While the 63-year-old victim was on the carpet, he would light cigarettes for her and bring her soft drinks. But when he finally did call the emergency services, paramedics found her covered in urine and faeces and, with pressure sores all down the left side of her body, under a urine and an excrement-covered blanket.

Jailing 63-year-old Tansley for two years and three months, the Honourable (Haha!) Mrs Justice Tipples KC said:

“The circumstances of her death are sad and tragic. Caron was curled up on the floor in the fetal position on her left-hand side. She was covered in several urine & fetal-soaked blankets. She had pressure sores on almost the entirety of her left-hand side. “This was a terrible and distressing scene, and it was plain that Caron required urgent help, but you failed to get any. Morphine was given, and she was taken to hospital and died just after 11pm that night.

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It took another long time to get to sleep again this morning. But I did manage around three hours in the land of Nod. I think I had a dream, but only fragments can be recollected. I may have been in outer space and using a hand-held RT to talk to some aliens in a glass-topped flying saucer. Can’t remember owt else about that section of the dream. But I found myself having some pleasant nookie with a woman and worried about how who she was and why?   
I woke up disappointed that the lady and I were no longer physically entangled. Which, of course, we were not in the first place. Indeed, it must be impossible to miss something that never was or could have been? I’m sure I knew it was surreal and fantasy as the dream progressed. Well, I can now tell you it is possible to miss something that never happened or could never been. I think, anyway! 

04:45hrs; I scribbled some notes on the pad and removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. I got a little mixed up later when the computer played it nasty and just let some and not others be saved. There is a possibility I’ve put the wrong photo on above. Later on, the computer let me save the right one, here on the right, showing the deeper hue. I went to empty the nocturnal pouch and meandered into the kitchenette. The night view was worthy of me taking a few shots of it, with the green hue of the clouds out there.
The houses and land did not turn out well during the second two efforts, as a cold breeze blew  through the window.
There was a fourth taken, but it came out just pure black, with no shadows of any clouds. I got something wrong again. Tsk!

Then, off I limped to the wet room. 
To put it mildly, it was a long, painful, patience-needing Constipation Conrad controlled session. I hope they never install a microphone in that wet room! The verbal Arghs, aye, aye-ayes, foul language that flowed for about twenty minutes, the twenty minutes of agony as the multi-coloured, Poisidon-sized concrete torpedo was half in-half out. Encouraging the motion to flow took it out of me; it just about wore me out! I had to remain seated for a few minutes to help me recover from the monumental effort required! Two extra tasks this morning. I had to get the bamboo canes to break up the torpedo, as the WC was not coping with the two-tone red and black evacuated product. I wasn’t surprised either; I was just glad I’d gotten rid of it. Then attention was needed to the bloody mess of blood that’d flowed from poor old . 
Then, after I had a wash, but I forgot to shave, the medicationing off . As I moved the catheter tube a little to help the cream go intoLittle Inchie, when it did, my language even amazed me! Again, I was glad there were no microphones in use!

On the computer, belatedly. I had a lot of trouble getting the photos saved for use on WordPress. Hours later, it got pally and let me get at least some of them on. But it was complicated & time-consuming! 
I remembered that the JS order was due today, so I moved some boxes to the front door to prepare for the delivery.
Carer Chloe arrived at 08:45hrs. As I was restarting doing the blog catch-up. A darned good job, too! She checked the timing for today’s delivery on the JS website… and discovered I had not sent off or checked out the order yet! So, we changed the timing to tomorrow, for delivery between 11:00 to 15:00hrs and checked it out. Saving another cock-up with an order! ♥

She (Chloe) returned later to do some domestics for me. She mopped the kitchen and wet room floors.

Back to the computer: When I’d forgotten where I was with things and struggled to regain control, mistakes flowed; they do that to me naturally, you know!

I’d been working on Tuesday’s blog; it was cruelly slow going with a mind that kept wandering off each time I got interrupted, had a Seizure, and a few shocks thrown in the mix, and I was off to Loola-land. I decided I could manage a mug of Glengettie or 99 tea. As I grabbed , it dawned that I had not yet finished the Monday blog! So, I did!
Well, I was going to…

Embarrassment!
SELF HATRED!

It suddenly dawned on me that both my feet felt wet. I did not panic at first cause I’ve been getting sensations of areas of the body getting Icey-cold-Wet sensations, and I thought I must be getting a double this time… But, No!
As I decided to get the slippers and socks off and wash my feet, as I stood up;

I slipped on the wet and took a tumble. Nothing new there! What wet, you ask? I hope! The urine that had flowed out of the ! The valve was in the fully open position! How it got in that position remains a mystery of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, , ectoplasms,  extraterrestrials, spirits, , Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas. Along with Hell-sent demons that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?

It was a struggle again, but I managed to fetch a bowl of water without any more into the main junk room. Then, something I hadn’t thought of arose – how do I get the socks off? I can now tell you. Hehe! I don’t know why I laughed then? I ended up cutting them off from the top to loosen them. Then, I trapped the toe end with my other heel and painfully, especially with Cartilage Chloe, tried to lift the leg to pull them off. It must have taken me half an hour to get them off and thrown away. I then used three rolls of thick kitchen Towels to help soak the urine. The plan is to change them regularly and spray the carpet between applications. As I write this, the next roll will be the ninth, with none left to use!

I stripped off and put the shirt, dressing gown, and stinky slippers in the laundry bag; the slippers would have company in there, as well as another pair of slippers I’d wee’d into two days ago. There must be a better word, but embarrassment is precisely what I was and am going through! That

and a degree of shame and more shame, labefaction. Twice in three days! But this wasn’t a leak; this one was much more of a catching-you-out torrent! Gragknangles!
Off to the wet room for a stand-up wash and medicationings. Why not have a shower, you may ask? Cause when I put the rag used at first to soak in the kitchen sink bowl… I can’t believe this myself… I left the hot tap running to go cold!
I can see I will end up at home if I can’t reign in my .

Once in the wet room, I washed the delicate areas first, then applied the medications and creams. Excuse me… ARRGH!

I was unsure which creams to use on the unidentified blotches on both lower arms.
I ended up dabbing them with the weaker Lavender & orange Dettol disinfectant. 
After a few minutes of applying the Dettol, the arms seemed to feel a little easier and appeared less inflamed. Maybe I had made a rare right choice for once. If I recall correctly, I made the right choice in November 1953.
You’ve got to laugh; it’s such a pathetic state to end up in!
Old age… Sod-it!

Getting the fresh Depends on is usually a bit of a battle, but for some reason, it went almost smoothly this time. I even considered going into a .
♬Oh, Susan♬ rang out from the door chime, and Carer Christopher tapped on the wet room door. As I opened the door, forgetting I was in just the new protection pants, the lad laughed harder than I had ever heard him before. I thought it might be the sight of my grotesque body, but he asked if I’d just had a shave? I replied positively, and he laughed again, even louder! It seemed I’d missed a lot of the bristles on my neck. He was time-limited but hastily got the razor and corrected my mistake as he shaved my missed bits. The blood loss was not too severe. Ha-ha! Chris got the medications sorted, given and shot off on his rounds. A special thanks to the lad! I appreciated his help!

Feeling a little cared about, I cheered and started writing this blog. Then I realised I hadn’t posted yesterday’s blog yet. So I did! What a day!

Tired & weary now. Better get some nosh made.
I’ve got potatoes that have accidentally been cooking in the slow cooker for nine hours now. If they have not crumbled to liquid yet, I’ve some beetroots, mushrooms, fresh Kenyan garden peas and sausages to make a meal.
Ah, well, I’ll get it sorted back in the morning.
Well, I hope so. TTFN.
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GOOD MORNING!
Well, making the meal was another bit of semi-farce. In keeping with today’s series of the damned things!
I dropped the sausages on the floor, rescued most of them, and then burned them all in the microwave. When I got them out, they were rock-hard. Tsk!
Sausages (well cooked, Haha!).
Fresh garden peas, over-boiled potatoes, sliced & salted tomatoes with some Polish pickled mushrooms and cut-up pickled beetroots. A tub of mandarins in jelly followed.
Had I not made a mess of… I’ve just realised how often I type those words; ‘I made a mess of!’ Where was I? Had I not made a mess of heating the sausages, this meal’s rating would have been in the high nines! 

I washed the cooking and eating things and struggled into the hospital bed. With relative ease, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. That should have been changed last Friday. I had  not ensured that I kept forgetting to ask the caregivers to do it. I remember mentioning it several times early during the visit, but after the Caregiver had gone, I realised it hadn’t been done yet again. Tsk! 

Then, for once, Sweet Morpheus enveloped me in rest and peace. No dreams, or , as far as I recall. I felt gifted… and feared for what Wednesday would have in store for me… Hehehe!
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TTFNski!
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Imperfectus Inchy: Monday 2nd December 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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But Maybe?
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I fancied becoming an auger, avenger, even an astrologer…
But which one? I pondered longer and longer…
I settled for being a gas lamp lighter & snuffer,
But doing this first job made me feel happier…
Back then, things were far less angstier.

A split shift daily, the pay was lousy,
But the jobs 13 bob pay was daily,
There was less anger, violence and hostility,
I walked with my pole & cap, my snuffer outer,
I took back-handers, but not like Starmer!

Shift workers? A tap on their window with my Reacher,
Morn or night, each time I’d make an extra (6d) tanner,
Sometimes, there’d be summat extra-curricular,
I’d nip in for a visit with Grizelda,
It took some cunning but was worth the bovver!

A rare moment of me needing exoneration, absolution,
But indeed, a moment of joy and satisfaction,
I’ll never forget my muscular, fair maiden,
She’d throw me on the bed, then start the action,
Afterwards, bliss was my primary reaction!
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ANOTHER CUT-DOWN-A-BIT ODE.
Not a lot?.

In the morning shot of Venus, I have no idea what the green spots were; they were reflections from the flash, maybe?

Ocado’s order arrived between calls from Carer Chloe & Sam.
Fresh food to fill up the fridge
Flora no-butter-butter, smoked sausages, cheesy rolls, fresh Kenyan garden peas, Surami, Franks, bacon and some Notoori Black Tomatoes; they were overripe already, so brown on the outside and red inside, and delicious!

Cupboard foods
Chestnuts, orange dessert pots, pickled mushrooms and Black Bean Sauces.

The fridge filled up!

For the next five hours, it was mental mayhem. No idea which Carer called. What I got done on the blog was hardly worth bothering with, and what bit I did find after the Marathon Seizure was all wrong, grammatically, timewise & didn’t make a lot of sense. So I had to start again in the morning. Correcting and adding bits and the photos. 
A blurr otherwise.

I gave up computing. I was here, there, nowhere, puzzled and suddenly tired, drained mentally. 
Got the meal sorted, of sorts. Sourdough bread: It worked out at 56p a bite just for the bread. With the beautiful tomatoes, £120 a bite. They are so expensive!
No butter-buttered the sourdough bread, sliced tomato and salted them to make two sourdough sarnies.
Got the meal made and digested.

Carer Promise, I think, did the last call.

I’m sorry, but it’s a bit bare. My seizure notes were unreadable even to me. Who must have written them?

Sleep was slow in coming despite my feeling so drained.
But when it finally arrived, I slept for three unbroken hours!
That was welcome!

An already used Starmer-The-Stealer cartoon here. To fill up this terribly short blog. I liked this one!

I can’t help thinking that so much more happened today.
But it’s obviously been dispatched into the ether if anything happened by .

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TTFNski!

Poxy Inchy: Sunday 1st December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Is Starmer running HMG veneficiously?
I’ll check it out in my dictionary,
He’s not doing it very efficiently,
Pensioners are forced to eat or heat, you see…
Farmers are to pay 48% more tax, say HMRC,
Even worse, my favourite-tasting tea…
Typhoo made it a weaker Glengettie!
Dizzy Dennis & Shaking Shoulder Shirley,
Life is enveloped in ambiguosity,
Self nitpicking batrachomyomachy,
Glaucoma Gladys awaits her trabeculectomy,
My computer is more like a whigmaleerie!
3 times, I left the hot water tap running,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids have been bleeding,
The min-seizures have been increasing,
Many other things are worthy of me groaning,
But I’m sick of hearing me moaning,
Constipation Conrad ever consolidating,
My cerebrum is ever circumstancing…
Retetion-loss, theories, contriving…
A devil of a job, in concentrating,
Leaving me worrying, contemplating,
Is logicality worth conserving?
My sanity or insanity certifying?
I can remember my days of billing & cooing…
The girl’s responses? Laughing or Booing!
I’ve not been good at anything I was doing,
Yet I still enjoy a poem, a bit of odeing,
What I miss a lot is communicating,
Talking to myself too much, alone isolating…
I can no longer do it, but I miss canoodling!
Thus, every day, I find life frustrating!
Can’t say some thoughts I’ve been harbouring!
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It took me ages to get to sleep. When I managed to drift off, I woke with a jerk & jump 2 hours later, realising that I’d made a few Fauxpas again! The same is true for the last three days! The nocturnal catheter pouch had not been put on. Also, the Diabetic socks had not been taken off last night. I needed to get my feet cleaned and deodorised urgently. The socks should be worn in the morning and taken off at night. I was in such a state mentally over the last few days I forgot to ask the Carer to do it, and they didn’t think about it. This meant I’d got an uncomfortable flow-back from the smaller day pouch; I’m pleased it hadn’t burst and leaked all over the place and me!
When I stirred, I was confused; now, I was baffled, and Dizzy Dennis kicked off. Some of Sandra’s Mini-Seizures set in and stayed with me, which didn’t help much.

The Carer arrived, and I asked her to take off the socks. But we both forgot about them. Carer Maryham or Kimberley did the dinner slot and took off the socks later.

I took some snaps of the rain inside the balcony through the windows.

Then, had to visit the Porcelain Throne. A marathon visit it was too, I can tell yers!
I spent a long time on the crossword book  as I waited for ages for the motion to begin.
It came agonisingly slowly, with two cube-shaped briquettes causing much bleeding and, as I said, agony! Poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids were tortured and needed a lot of cleaning up and dollops of Germoloid Ointment to calm down their hurting, stinging pains that lasted for yonks. I was walking oddly, unusually, as I left the wet room. Haha!

The Low-Cost Food delivery arrived. l sorted it out and refilled the carer’s & Nurse’s Nibble Bowl. There was another box of Cadbury mini Flakes. I assumed it would be like the last one, which was very popular, individually wrapped – But No! They were Catering packs, with 144 Flakes, loose in trays. Some of them were not broken… but not many. So I wrapped some bags of them up and put them in the fridge to hand out later in the week. 
Shame! I hope they keep fresh.

Finally, I got around to updating yesterday’s blog. The seizures were so frequent I gave up until they had passed.

The weary tiredness returned, and I considered getting my head down again. By the time I’d made my mind up to do this, my energy lifted along with my morale? So, I took advantage of the lift and finished and posted the blog. The feeling of going up and down again continued for the rest of the day. An unsettling situation.

Yesterday and earlier this morning, I tried to snap the strange meal several times, but it would not save to file, like many others. I tried again, and wallah! It saved and went onto WordPress for me! I recall eating it while on the computer. Now I’m not sure if it was yesterday’s or from another day that wouldn’t save. I think it was. It was a bread roll with Marmite and no-butter butter, chicken mini sausages, Stilton cheese, and some Aunt Bessie baked potatoes done in the Air Fryer. They were terrible! The flesh was dry and didn’t crisp up much at all.
Oh, I’d love to be able to afford a new cooker! Tsk!
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Colour 50 – 18 – 0.
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Idiotic Inchy: Saturday 30th November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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OF STARMERS NEW TORY, LABOUR HMG!
Double-dealing, Lies, and Hocuspocus!
No regrets about taking backhanders,
Or bankrupting for food producing farmers,
And killing off private-pensioned  pensioners,
And this from the party that created the NHS?
I imagine OAPS voted Labour, I guess?
New ministers that are the schmooziest,
Starmer could make the UK problems terminal,
Earths end may go galactically, universally viral,
Would Earth’s survival be acceptable or tenable?
Watching aliens must think humankind terrible,
Out Oligarchs, politicians so ungainsayable,
Earth’s innocents are so slaughterable…
This is just part of our trouble,
It’s time for our rulers to burst their bubble…
Our future is, of course, underivable,
Earth’s poor are all unconsequential,
I pray to see the first promised Angel…
Who just may be sent to us from Hell…
I hope he brings a freebie for Starmer as well!
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Definitely a better kip last night. Although it took me so long to get to sleep, I reckon I was in bed for about eight hours, two of which were sleeping. But this is an improvement. I rose at about 04:20hrs, passed some wind, and the nocturnal catheter pouch was removed from the day pouch. A decent colour this time. Which, incidentally, should have been changed last Friday according to the date written on it, but things kept ensuring that I forgot to remind the carer about it. Sleep problems, seizures, Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the nose and Toothache Tiffany bleeding away. Yet somehow, I didn’t get caught up with the blog; the computer was dead set against me saving photos, and I had no heart to take many.

My BP was decent this morning after yesterday’s 2nd Hyper of the week. I amassed things needed to complete the ablutions and hibernated in the wet room to get on with the task. Again, the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. So again, I had no chance of taking a shower; I had a strip wash and couldn’t even clean my feet in the bowl as I shaved due to my inability, just like a three-year-old, to take off my socks. In times like this, depression and frustration can overtake me. But surprisingly, I kept my imitation pucker-up pretty well. The shave went wellish. Just one minuscule nick. A bit worried about not needing the Porcelain Throne again.
With no showering and no shi… Porcelain Throne activity, I was done and out within 1½hrs. Stupidly, I adopted a mild Smug Mode. When will I ever learn? I went into the main junk/recliner/computer/bedroom and tried to get my socks pulled off. I should have known better! 
Dizzy Dennis, Loss-Balance-Barbara, and a little help from a short had me over! Inchy took another tumble! However, he redirected his route to the floor and lunched onto the bed! I pulled the quilts and dressing gown off the bed. But pleased he’d avoided any injuries… That’s not strictly correct. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which had just been cleaned and ointmentated, started bleeding. Which stained the fresh Protection pants he’d just struggled to get on. He now struggled to get off and replace them with another fresh pair after cleaning and creaming again! Noticing that the urine was now bloodied in the tube. Then I got the long picker-upperer to get the things from the floor and tidied up a little, not a lot! Hence, I had to frequently wash dry and Germoloid Little Inchies Haemorrhoids throughout the rest of the day. 
At long last, I got on the computer to check and finish the templates. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but three hours later, I had completed them. Now, the depression and frustrations began to sink in. I then discovered that the few pictures I’d taken in the evening (currently 01:45 hrs Sunday) were taken with the SD card on the computer.

My spirit is destroyed. The only semi-highlight was the computer: it let me save a photo of the snack I had taken earlier and a shot that had just been taken.

Not a lot, but nice. This may be the wrong photo?Early Morning View.

Feeling really low now.

WHEREVER DID THE DAY GO?
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I found out on Monday that I had made an error in the meal photo. Fortunately, I also found out I had not yet (forgotten!) to post this blog. So I can rectify my singularly rare, not often-made mistake. (I’m lying well, aren’t I?)
Belatedly, my memory springs into action…
I enjoyed this one. 

I wish that  did not toy with and tease me so often, but with the previously classed as now becoming , there is plenty of scope for me to make even more mistakes in future comments. Oh, I haven’t mentioned the NHS letter yet! They are altering the Diabetic Course to a different Training course, which is being arranged for me. The Diabetes Type Two training is being changed to a Diabetic Dementia & Cognitive Decline course.
This could (I think) mean that I may have the possibility of if I read it right, Hippocampal Doreen Dementia, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, vascular Doreen Dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease Dementia, Lewy Body Dementia, Frontotemporal Dementia, Mixed Dementia, Traumatic Encephalopathy Dementia, Posterior Cortical Atrophy Dementia, or Primary Progressive Aphasia Dementia (Semantic or Logoepenic).  

Telling me: “There’s a strong correlation between Alzheimer’s disease and high blood sugar levels. One study found that people with high blood sugar levels, such as those linked with Type 2 diabetes, “had a dramatic increase in beta-amyloid protein, one of the hallmark brain proteins of Alzheimer’s disease.” People in the early stages of Type 2 diabetes (Me) have signs of brain dysfunction. In fact, one study’s participants showed high levels of insulin resistance in the brain and a reduced ability to use glucose to fuel normal brain function. Individuals with Type 2 diabetes show accelerated cognitive decline, specifically in executive function and information-processing speed. The early effects of diabetes on the brain were related to levels of a blood protein called haemoglobin A1C (HbA1C). Researchers found that even people with diabetes for less than 10 years had deficits in memory function typically associated with a brain region called the hippocampus. They found that people with diabetes had smaller hippocampal sizes than people without diabetes. They also discovered the decreases in hippocampal size correlated to HbA1C blood levels, suggesting that HbA1C could indicate hippocampal-type function and/or the onset of memory loss. The gene for amyloid precursor protein (or APP, the “parent molecule of beta-amyloid) is known to be involved in some cases of Alzheimer’s. This gene also affects any insulin pathway. Disruption of the insulin pathway is a hallmark of
diabetes and research on the APP gene could lead to a therapeutic target for both diseases.

What to expect in early-stage Vascular Dementia. In early-stage vascular dementia, damage to the blood vessels or disruption of blood flow to the brain may already have occurred, yet symptoms may be relatively mild. ..
While memory loss is a common first sign of cognitive decline in those who are developing dementia, memory issues are often not the first sign of vascular dementia. Instead, those developing vascular dementia may experience confusion more often, issues with communication, and trouble making decisions, planning, or problem-solving.
Now they tell me! Hehe!
If, by any chance, a patient reading this was not too confused, they damn well are now after reading it! Haha!
So, back to school for me in the New Year!
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TTFN
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Ivanhoe Inchy: Fri 29th Nov 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Have we oldies been accessorised?
Is this something to do with Starmer’s lies?
Should politicians be backhanders or exemplifiers?
I ask these things cause I’m not very wise,
Are Oligarchs crooked financiers?
Ought our PM’s be gonfalonieres?
I think they show their audacities, & artificialities,
Their answers seem to decontextualise…
Questions answered seem to extemporise…
Explanations, hypothesise or theories,
No guilt is shown; suspicion then intensifies,
Reasons for the oldies mental malaise…
Deafness, Dementia we can’t always ostracise,
Maybe paralysis, prosthesis, or psychosis?
Voting for who? The least bloodthirsty?
Some seek self-profit, adversely…
Some act cunningly, some with ambiguity,
If I was PM, I’d lead anacreontically,
Towards the aged, I’d act adminicularly…
Starmer is more a dictator than an abecedary,
So he can’t bring or supply equanimity.
His nature & outlook are not very veritable,
I think their future is looking terrible…
Some looked to me like just fixed addicts,
One appeared to be doing mind acrobatics,
Many seemed to be on antibiotics…
One was ever-scratching at her bedticks,
The chancellor looked like a Wiccanist,
The chap next to her, like a voodooist?
Gurning Starmer looked the wealthiest,
His cabinet lot looked the weirdest…
Backbenchers suffered from wanderlust,
Sturmer got a few scolding looks,
They were from the wannabes,
Rachel Reeves started to apothegmatise…
Using axiomatics to hide her lies,
It was matter-of-fact, nowt to energise…
To give false hope would not be wise,
No hope giver Starmer, but an annihilationist,
A farmer-hating Starmer and gerontophilias,
Who leads his turncoat MPs, the nudnicks…
Policy changed from Socialist to psychosis,
The sceptics changed their semantics,
From romantics to political bandits,
From scholastics to schizophrenics,
Humane to back-hander-holics!
From honourable to Oligarchal!
Labour’s already as rusty as my belt buckle!
Their honour dies, leaving no sparkle…
I wouldn’t mind if Starmer gets suicidal!
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This blog was not started until 14:00hrs on Saturday.
Between Mini-Seizures, Dizzy Dennis, and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm—backed up with Glaucoma Gladys—and the computer failing to save again, it’s been a long, unsuccessful, lousy day for me. (18:10 hrs).
I suppose I made a decent start, though. I did complete December’s templates. However, I even got the dates wrong on many of them, so I had to change each one to regain the required sequence of dates. Also, a few photos were saved, but not many were taken.
If it was go-wrongable, it did!
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Bleeding.
Toothache Tiffany. Mini-Seizures. Dozzy Dennis.
Harold’s Haemorrhoids were debilitating still now!
I did manage to get some sleep in though.
Up at 04:15hrs. Sleep was a little better, but nowt to shout about, I’ve still not caught up with all the days lost.
Urine is a better colour!

Sorry, but it’s so late. I’ll just put the few photos I’ve got on… if the computer lets me. 
Morning views.

Ablutions, I couldn’t use the shower cause the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. Stand-up wash shave, teggies, medicationalisationed, scented things. Haha!
It still took me two hours without showering..
Carer Chris
Started the templates.
Carer Joanne.
Finished the templates.
Seizures and Dizzies were bad.
Made a food order for the following Monday.

Suddenly drained after a good start as well.
Fell asleep in the computer chair…
Woke up when I fell off of the computer chair.
Slipped, hauling my massive body up from the floor.
Hit head on the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. Nose & teeth bleeding. (They soon stopped; the headache lasted a little longer, though)
Carer Chris came; he wanted a can of cider… well, he took the last two of them. He didn’t, but he put them in the fridge to cool them and will collect them on his next visit.
Not a lot, but I wasn’t hungry.

Acne & Ezcema is back again!

Sorry, it’s so short.
Time won today. I’m too tired to start today’s blog, and it’s too late anyway. So, I expect it will be another battle to get things done for tomorrow’s blog. I think!

TTFNski – Have a Great Day!