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Just look at the changes in the results!
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I’m struggling a bit. There are ten areas of my body in need of thrice-daily Porpain or Voltaren gel. Back rear, left and right, up the backbone, neck, both shoulders, both arthritic knees. More painkillers to cope with the toothache; Dentist on Tuesday. Both leg wounds need to be redressed twice a week. Haemorrhoids, penile fungal lesions, ear drops, eye drops, Catheter contraption, weekly visits from the nurses. INR Warfarin level has never been so consistently low. I’m using the Zimmer frame or two sticks as standard now.
Getting into the kitchen is so painful and takes so long; I’ve stopped bothering. It’s the getting up and sitting down that is the most painful; for whatever it is I have going around my back, front down my legs, up my spine into my neck, it’s, I’m guessing. With the earliest appointment available when Carer Ejaz rang up to book one being 4 weeks away – four weeks of ever-increasing agony- I might find out on the appointment day, which is next week, 16th September.Â
It’s all these that are killing my best asset, time!
Even typing is painful, and depression seems to be in a permanent mode lately. Because I’m taking so long to apply my medications and ointments to all the areas in need each day, I’m not getting a shower and don’t shave often. Everything is taking so much longer to achieve.
My usual getting-drained time of 16:00hrs hrs starts at 13:00hrs hemerinely.
Another oddity, I think due to the peripheral neuropathy, is the number of times I’m dropping things: saucepans, pens, camera, mobile phone, bottles or mugs, food, plates, cutlery… anything, owt I am grabbing, holding or lifting presents a danger of either being dropped, or, amazingly, I cannot lose my grip on some things? I actually had a can of deodorant in my hand for two hours until the Carer came and had to force my fingers to let go of it. At least it produced a moment of humour for him and me. He was amazed at my strength, but it wasn’t that, of course. It was the neurotransmitters that were making me hold on to it, but as they were slowly dying, the brain was misreading their message… I think anyway. Two Doctors at the Mary Potter Centre, and having all the electrical readings analysed, told me this would happen eventually, and they could do nothing; it is impossible to repair neurotransmitters. That was in about 2008, so I think I’ve done well to have lasted this long, awaiting the forecast, turning into reality.
The back is getting worse. I’ve taken some snaps this week, but after dropping and breaking two cameras and having to buy another, not many, I’m nervous about taking snaps nowadays. I’ll get them on with any memory I have of them. I think they’re in order, more or less chronologically… ish.
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I thought this night pouch would burst before I could get it to the WC to empty it!
Notice that the Warden put on my inner door…
Carer did not read it, apparently
Evening view, kitchen
Taste the difference: potatoes arrived today
This cut spud was the first out of the bag.
It didn’t make it into the veg stew.
TASTE RATING 8.6/10
Monday morning snap.
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Non-Epileptic Seizures
Inchie: 27/29 Aug: Hospitalised. Sciatica, Cataract, Deaf, Hospital
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The reason for my trip to the A&E infirmary…
Started failing to install the Catheter tube,
No-go into Little Inchie,
Not through the nurses’ deficiency,
Earlier, I was feeling pretty perky,
As I got off the bed, I felt all whoosie,
Nurses rescued me immediately…
Laid me down on the bed, carefully,
Seizures ensued, repeatedly,
Considering it a medical emergency,
Why are they here? I’d have no memory,
Each of many times as I made a recovery,
Who is who? Why are they here? Weirdly,
Rose with help, took a tumble…
Ejaz said later, I was talked tarradiddle,
As if I’d been on drugs or the bottle,
Then, taken away to the hospital…
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In a corridor, then a room, and then,
corridors, bays, again & again,
A handsome medic, called Ivan,
I.D.’d me, soon changed the pouch for me,
With blood in, he was Ukrainian,
The Catheter badly, I was kyboshed,
Lifted home, again painfully
New ailment; in the back, feet & knee.
Methinks it is sciatica,
Got home through rain & thunder,
No time for blog or reader,
New ailments bring limitations…
I join others who are solitudinarians…
Pathetic, lost, sad and incapable,
To the WC, was soon in trouble,
Took me too long, due to my sciatica
Then the pain made me wobble,
A fall. Catheter pouch lost some widdle,
Involuntary rear-end evacuation,
Pity the Carer can’t use teleportation,
Five hours later the Carer arrived,
Got me up as I begged & directed,
Even more painful than I expected,
Friday, timed my walk into the kitchen,
12 minutes, then I abandoned
my mission, for tea to be brewed
Phoned the Doctors, as told…
By the can’t-come-out trict nurses…
To tell of my new ailments & curses,
I’ll book you in for next slot free,
16th of September, on Wednesday,
All due to fitting the wrong Catheter,
And the bloody sciatica!
All caused anthropomorphically.
I’m so sorry,
For the agony,
Tried the Zimmer frame today…
Will I wake in the am? Who can say!
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It’s all gone wrong… again…
But much worse this time.
I can barely walk; I even tried the Zimmer, but no better than two sticks. Doing the blog is agony.
Cannot wash, shave or do my teeth.
The last three trips to the Porcelain Throne, unable to walk, I only managed a slow little shuffle and could not get there in time. The place is a pigsty.
Virtually deaf until I get the issue mended. Np blogs until this whatever it is; it’s agony; let’s get the grip pm the pain lessen. And if the cataract or TBI sessions come, bet they clash with the dentist, Bank, deliveries and/or…Â
I’d np goog. It is no good; I’ve got to stop.
TTFN.
Sorry I didn’t get this posted earlier.
I’ll try to get a blog done when I can. But so much time in daily medicationings, medical appointments, and my back & legs are terrible.
Inchie Today: Wednesday, 26th August 2026
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THE LONGEST DAY
Not the most infuriating of days.
But possibly the most frustrating.
Errors, accidents & mistakes.
My self-esteem, well, what bit I have left, anyway, collapsed as I made cock-ups, errors, mistakes after mistake.
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Have to be a quickie. It is not Thursday, and I am only just starting this blog. Life is so hectic. My dream of peace & quiet in retirement has crumbled. So much to do yet;
1) Call oligarchal British Gas to tell them they have (supposedly) sent an engineer to check out the Gas meter five times, guaranteeing he would arrive, and not one has managed to get here in well over a year. They keep sending me emails demanding I supply them with a reading. Carer Ejaz has called them repeatedly, but he isn’t calling as often now. He sent them a photo of the meter. Which is out of date. They have increased my payments. What the &^)+#, can I do?
2) Both hearing aids are not working; I have to get someone to call the Audio Clinic, but make sure it does not clash with any other appointments.
3) The Dentist appointment needs arranging. Make sure it does not clash with any other appointments.
4) I’m still waiting for an appointment at the EENT to have the cataract laser treated.
5) Waiting for an appointment with Mental Health at Haywood House Hospital to get the results from the test and be referred to someone.
6) A neurology appointment to re-scan the TBI; is also on the waiting list.
7) Yesterday & this morning, the Doctor’s surgery phoned. Still wanting a Carer to call them re an appointment. I asked Carer Andrew three times yesterday. Said he could not get through the navigator AI waffle. Earlier this morning Thurs, I got Andrew again. Too early to even ask him to ring the Doctor. Then they sent a new Carer to join Andrew… and Andrew teaching someone what to do is a recipe for disaster. Looks like the new lad, Raj, will be calling now, so Ejaz and Mirza may call even less often. This is scary for me. They are both so supportive. Driving me to silly thoughts. I realised the futility of the situation while talking to the Doctor’s receptionist.
8) The bank needs to interview me again.
9) I’ve been told by two different sources that my chances of getting into a home are approximately zero.
10) The new instructions that I need to go to the QMC A&E told me that when the Catheter blocks, I must go by taxi, as this is a Medical Emergency.
The one time I went, once there and £24 out of pocket on the taxi there, it was for hours before a Doctor saw me. He could not replace the Catheter tube in three attempts. Then I was taken to another Doctor to try. He got it in on his second try. But the only instructions given were not to let the array pad holding the tubes in place come off. It fell off of its own accord the next morning. I phoned the hospital, got the department, and was told to see your district nurses. Even now, months later, I can’t figure out why I had to make sure the pad stayed in place.
11) Each of these appointment visits & arrangements will involve taxis and Carer costs.
Impossible to do without my hearing aids; Carers not ringing to make appointments when I asked them to (Only one, but that was the one who is hard work, and determined to do as little as possible and then as badly as possible). Such as laundry returned still wet, mopped the kitchen in only 5 minutes; I timed him and pointed out the dirt marks still on the floor between the floor cupboards. My future looks bleak, Care-wise.
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Through frustration, I over-waffled there. No time for a proper blog; I’ll just put the photos on.
It was all mayhem anyway. Three pages of notes made too; I’ll select and pick just a few.
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I’ve got too much to do for Thursday; no chance of doing a blog. I’ll try to put some old odes on WP.
Nurses’ visit, Social Lady, deliveries, doctors’ problems to sort, appointments to make…
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My Plans were destroyed again.
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This was tomorrow; I ended up in the hospital again. I’ll try to get something on the books for the 11-hour visit tomorrow. Writing this at 11:40hrs, when I got back from the QMC on Thursday. With the most painful & most uncomfortable, bloodied Catheter setup ever! Got to kiss tons off on this Wednesday one, and try to get something done on Friday about Thursday’s abysmal failures.
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The start of the rot, Catheter-wise.
Doctor rang again wanting to speak to Carer; said I’d ask them again, but not interested yet.
Misra helped with showering, very much appreciated.
Dettol & SD card delivered.
Care navigator rang again to speak with Carer, Huh!
No interest when I asked them again to ring him.
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Night shots
Distance
Close-up
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TTFNski, Each
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Inchie Today: Tuesday, 25th August 2026
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TUESDAY 25th AUGUST 2026
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06:35hrs: I stirred back into ersatz, pretend life. Wriggled and rolled a little to test out which ailments might be the most painful, in my effort to dismount the hospital bed and get my nocturnal Catheter pouch off. The outcome was rather less than expected. The new magic neck pain, the discomfort of the day Catheter tubing, and Anne Gyna were the only ones sensed.Â
Colin Cramps and a few seizure aftertastes, which had been waking me up so often overnight, had dissipated altogether. Nice!
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I managed to get up, sort the pouches out, and do a safety check of the flat for taps left running and fridge/freezer doors open. Then got the kettle on. Doing these little tasks, I had to make three visits to the Porcelain Throne in 15 minutes. Constipation Conrad in total charge.
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Carer Andy arrived in a perky but reluctant mood. Medications were issued, but we could not find any codeine tablets. We both searched through the medical prescription and Over-the-counter medicine drawers. Andrew said he had informed his head office about them. I got the waste bins into one large bag. It’s still there now (2040hrs).Â
Carer departed, and I had another dock-hard, Haemorrhoid-tearing visit to the Throne.
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The expected delivery from Morrisons arrived. I tell you now to get the embarrassment over quickly; Today, I made super-cock-ups with the food orders. Arithmophobia and my stupidity are what I put the blame on. Maybe Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Inchie. I was utterly disgusted with myself. The idea of doing an order to cover three weeks seemed so clever at the time. All three came on the same day; Today! Understandably, people complain about my stupidity in doing the things I do. But I simply cannot help it; in a way, it is not me doing these and other daft & dangerous things. But I still do them. Now Morrison, then came Asda, and finally the Iceland deliveries! It hurts, frustrates and annoys me doing them. No particular depression, just self-loathing.
I’d prefer to not mention them again, please. Thanks.
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The new Warfarin INR blood results came in the post; that was quick. New doses confirmed.
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Carer Mirza visited. Checked LV house content problem, and I called Complex Warden Deana and asked Mirza to talk with her about the lower cost of NCC insurance. Not sure what happened. Just had a seizure while writing this. Memory Mangling Malcolm? Mirza fitted a new Catheter on the right leg this time.
He then took the laundry down to the laundrette. Then he mopped the kitchen floor for me.
Then went down to put the clothes in the dryer. Did the safety checks and hoovered up. Checked the drawers to see if the missing Codeine tablets were there, but no.
Then he went down to collect the laundry.
While he was out, more food arrived, and I was having difficulty getting all the canned food on the top shelf of the double cupboard.
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I got the shakes while reaching up to put the cans on the top shelf and knocked about eight of them off onto the floor! Some bounced of the hard-top counter, but one of 
them, a can of new potatoes, took the more direct route, via hitting my right shin, then to the floor.
At this point the self-cursing started, as Carer Mirza returned with the washing.
He cleaned up a 
scrape wound and put some Germolene and a plaster over it. Saved the day again. Mirza did another grand job of caring for me today.
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How did I take this photo with no camera?
Well, as soon as Mirza departed, Amazon delivered the camera. I can’t photograph it, but I’ll ask a Carer later to take one on his mobile and email it to me. Like any other childlike 81-year-old with a new toy, I decided to set up and use the new camera. As recommended by Carer Ejaz: “It would be a good idea to get the same model as before; otherwise you’ll get in a pickle with the new contraptions and workings of a different one” Very good suggestion, mate; a wise idea. Thanks!
So, after setting it up but entering the wrong date and not remembering how I set it in the first place, I gave up and got on with taking some sky-cloud shots.
Here is my first effort…
Almost square shape?
Nice views though
The trees are begging to look greener!
Caught the balconies on this one.
Then back to try and set a wider
view for the snaps.
I attempted to read the instructions…
Writing was too small
So to change, on the fly…
Aha, I cracked it…Â
Can you see the animal’s head?
General Degaul in this one?
The worms?
From the kitchen window, this one
A smug mode developed.
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I mentioned that I do some acts almost like a remote control, unthinkingly, and I told the Doctor at Haywood Hospital about this trait acquired months ago.
Well, me making this a great dollop come mound; this agglomeration, hodgepodge of a gigantic meal, is a perfect example of what can happen when something in my head tells me not to bother and to press on. Worrying.
It consisted of Mushroom pâté, chicken lumps, tomatoes, carrots, garden peas, soft cheese, curly fries, pork & pickle mini pies, cheese & onion bread, cooked beef, gherkins, and potatoes!
Needless to say, I could not eat it all, and must have binned two-thirds of it. I recall eating all of the mushroom pâté, the peas & carrots, the bread and the potatoes.
Then washed the dishes, etc., and moved on to an ice
cream cornet & lemon curd dessert?
Then put the TV on early to watch the Nottingham Forest match against Leeds Utd. (Sister Jane called to remind me it was on ITV). I stayed awake up to half-time, and the adverts came on. Zzz! Waking up in a seizure a couple of hours later, still TV on and the volume louder… Sorry, neighbours. I think going into a home might help me; I’m not coping well.
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Inchie Today: Monday, 24th August 2026
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06:20hrs: I was feeling the usual confusion, but no worse than it has been lately. That was a plus to start with. So no complaints about things yet. The arthritic neck, back and shoulder were all calm. A twinge or two from the toothache, but quite bearable, using the painkiller.
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I got out of bed and guessed at the colour of the product inside. Read the amount on the pouch label chart: a good dollop again. 1600ml. I’d had a lot of cramps overnight. Fingers, hands, and lower legs. Still alright now.
Emptied the pouch, bagged it in the yellow bin, cleaned 
my teeth and hobbled back to the living/bedroom, and turned on the computer. I had a brainwave from I know not where! I cleared things a bit around the bed, then made it! Yes, oh, yes. A snug mode was adopted; I took a photo of the table I’d moved temporarily onto the bed and took the photo here on the left. Another Mega-Smug Mode!
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As I dropped the table, I went over on the bed, catching my ribs on the frame.
The usual, but extended, session of cursing, swearing, and self-lambasting had its moments. I put the last of the bruise-ease ointment on the ribs.
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Carer arrived. Put some more cream on the chest. Issued the medications. Phorpained gel to both shoulders (the arthritis is spreading over to the left one now) and the oddly painful neck. The Doctor said it was arthritis, but I find the pain very different to the ankles, shoulders, back and knees affected. Sharper, and hurts when touched. Could it be something else? The gel has no relieving effect at all, and it stings when applied.
Not that it is too bad yet. Then I disturbed him on his mobile, asking him to make a mug of tea. He said, you didn’t ask! I said I just did. You know how we English love our tea and get bothered when we get a mug of light brown, unbrewed tea with a gallon of milk in it? Haha! I reminded him not to put too much milk in and to let it brew properly this time. Well, he made a darn good brew for me this morning, bless him.Â
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After he’d shot off, I got the computer on; eventually, anyway. It took a while, but I got there by switching things on and off, hoping for the best. And openened 
CorelDraw. Which, after slowly opening, promptly crashed. Again, the usual: I closed everything, and pressed reload and waited. And waited, but it would only get so far in loading, and it froze again. Turned everything 
off, and left it that way for 15 minutes or so, and had another go. I got the death screen up. So, being me, did all I could think of: all off again for half an hour. A prayer, hope, and crossed my fingers, and yet again restarted. Convinced I would lose my beloved computer, no anger this time, I felt sort of condemned and hopeless. Was it something I did with caught keys when I got the shakes?Â
It opened alright, but was I brave enough to open CorelDraw? Not at first, and it was gone by midday, with all the kerfuffling I’d done. Hours later, after using MS Word, WordPress, and Notepad’s word lists to make the Ode of the day, I needed to Doctor a graphic and put a photo in the Ode header. I was on a late-in-the-day roll now, and without thinking of what happened earlier, I opened CorelDraw. Dang, dang dang Dang! I realised what I’d done, and got ready for the Blue Screen of Death to appear! Positive that it would show up!
As of this moment in time (13:20hrs), I’ve not had a moment’s bother from CorelDraw! I’ll hold back from going into a Smug-Mode for now, though.
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Carer Andrew came. Carer Andrew left.
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I went to make a mug of tea, and Carer Mirza arrived. I was so glad to see him again; I’d almost forgotten what he looked like. (Sarcasm for them not sending him to serve me for so long) Not his fault. A Caring lad.
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Dropped the Kodak 1 camera. Now not working, broken, no longer usable! Heartbroken… again!
I decided to buy another one, which means using Amazon. I’m nervous about this. The number of times they have left parcels down in the main lobby, and someone has nicked them, puts fear in me. Cause I can’t get through to tell them. Complaints: click here. The list of options you can select from is not what you want, so you pick “My parcel has not been delivered. Then they show you a photo of it as it was delivered to the correct address. A snap of the parcel outside what was supposed to be my flat doorway, which had a different flat number on it. “
It took Carer Ejaz three weeks to get an acknowledgement, and a month to get me money back.
Now, I think, did I order it properly? Did I order the right one? I’ll check the site out later.
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The blood-taker arrived to take some haemoglobin for testing my Warfarin INR level.
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Deleted some things I put in Monday’s blog. It was pointed out that it was risky prosecution-wise.
I reckon I’m doing risky things when I’m in a deep depression. Or could it be the TBI and/or dementia being a part of it? Laura told me afterwards, after the assessment, that I struggled with many parts much worse than on the last assessment.
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I cleaned the narrow bits around the non-working cooker, using the thingamajig I got ages ago and could not find for ages. Sorted the bins into one bag. Then decided to have a wash & shave.
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ACCIFAUXPAS
I got into the wet room to find I’d left the hot tap running, yet again. Needless to say, but I will: 
. To make matters worse, I was on my way to the front door to go out and boost the power supply at the box when Carer Prem arrived. And I completely forgot about pressing the booster. Somehow, I felt I had done it. When Prem departed, tasks done, I went back to the wet room to get a wash and shave, teggies done, but no!
I realised I’d not boosted the British Gas meter.Â
WOT-A-PLONKER! So, B.O. alert put in place. Hehe
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Inchie Today: Saturday, 22nd August 2025 – With Memory Photos
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Another chronically wasted day. No shower, no laundry done, no reply yet from email ot the Carer Company about the financial situation, and on top of that, I was all over the place, losing things, deleting things, making errors galore; and all with a confused outlook. Sorry about the little moan again, but that’s how it went.
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I deleted the photographs taken on the camera after downloading them to the computer. Then later, deleted them from the file, thinking I had already put them on the blog. I shan’t tell you of how angry I got! Especially when I broke and dropped and shattered the glass biscuit barrel. The language I came out with surprised even me. Boy, did I get Angina after this. It is likely that I lost, misplaced, or couldn’t find umpteen things: dates, letters, my mobile phone, the TV remote control, even the walking stick once! Losing patience with me, I got me so wound up.
So, a sad block. Or even blog!
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Afternoon skies.
Still saw the beauty in them
A little later, after the Carer
Got me on my feet. (A tumble)
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In the evening, still not having made a start on this blog, I tried to calm down and make a concerted effort to begin working on Friday’s blog. Got the computer on. I just kept switching things off, back on and crossing my fingers.Â
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Yesterday…
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Not sure which year…
Dad & Brother Pete
Railway Houses, two up, two down
Brookfield Place, the Meadows
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Long time ago…
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Sister Jane, Hubby Pete 1974
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Jane & Inchie… 1950?
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Inchie: Friday Aug 21st: Nut Hospital Visit Two
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NUTHALL HOSPITAL MEMORY TEST
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Just getting ready made me unsteady,
Getting washed, shaved & dressed,
My body ended up well battered,
The Carer arrival was estimated,
I got the time wrong; self-aggravated,
The plans became a little affected,
Called Ejaz; said he was on his way…
Worried about taxis, & what I’ll need to pay,
Intercom rang, t’was district nurses…
To check on my Catheter contraptions,
Ejaz arrived a minute later, messy,
They’ll return next week, Thursday,
Ejaz got me ready quickly, urgently…
Checked my money, rang for a taxi,
I again forgot to take the Kodak with me,
The taxi, going ÂŁ18, derision…
Got to pay, there’s no tergiversation,
Coming back it was over ÂŁ20, derision!
Fear of the test? Will it go badly,
It will be what it will be, surely,
I explained my problems, auditory,
Waiting for cataract lasering, visual,
Cognitive tests, MoCA, or ACE-III,
They already knew my history,
Hope my score doesn’t go too badly,
Figures needed to be added, subtracted,
Remembered, substituted, and divided,
The reading of a little convoluted story,
Recalling detail did not go marvellously,
Naming objects, one I think I failed on,
I muttered ice, Iceland, they waddle…
Beautiful things, they’re so adorable,
Felt a fool when she said it was a penguin,
The bird, I could not name, embarrassing,
Put in order? My efforts were anachronical,
Questions about time, place, & date…
Think some of my answers found comical,
Well, I’ve got other worries on my plate…
Why did I find this section problematical?
Ah, that’ll be another glitch, arithmetical,
Seems my result was much lower: disjoinable,
Than when I was last tested at Nuthall,
But I was not at all discontentful,
Results, assessed by a geriatrician,
Or Community Service Neurologist,
Then another visit to Nuthall,
But I’m not bothered at all,
Scared of BG, TSB; all Oligarchal,
I’m aware I’ve lost my sparkle…
My brain’s enthused with flapdoodle,
Well known for temporising,
Failing, falling, inturbidating,
Dithering and hypothesising,
Gluttonising, and aborting,
And need my life sorting!
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Inchie: Thurs 20 Aug 2026 Gawd, I felt so low
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I woke up very late again; it was gone six o’clock. I could not recall waking up or Throne visits either. Probably had an unbroken 5 hours or more. I glanced at the nocturnal night pouch on the floor near the bed and got out of bed almost painlessly! Only my Coccyx and Anne Gyna were any bother. Good this!
I pottered about and saw an amazing 
sight through the balcony windows… Rain! It was only a few spots, a good sign. Cheered me a little, I think, as I recall. I decided to wash, shave, and clean the few teeth I have left; a bit of a job to find them nowadays.Â
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But I didn’t get the cleaning and saving done, because I had to dash, hobblingly, mind you, to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. So, I did. I completed the one-link gigantic evacuated product, and with mt ears full of exploded wax, I thought I heard a knocking coming from somewhere. So, without even thinking (I was completely naked), I got into the hallway to find a rapid clunking on the door. Opened it to find the Asda delivery driver with my food order. He handled this with aplomb; the shock of seeing me like that would have scared most people, maybe gave them a heart attack, at minimum scared them nastily. Might have given them a laugh too. I grabbed a towel from the radiator and swiftly apologied. He was not bothered, apparently. And he carried the items in the bag and took them through to the kitchen for me. Not the eight bottles of spring water; I asked him to put them in the hallway for me. A jolly understanding chap wished me well as he departed.Â
Then started the task of putting the things away. A lot of water & pop, and I’d stocked up on canned food while I could to avoid the bank blocking my card again. Did I tell you about that? Hehehe!
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The bottom cupboard was soon filled with various cheap cans of cheapo food. Potatoes, carrots, sweetcorn, mushrooms, Teryaki sauce, and a can of mackerel.
Carer arrived while doing this task. Rushed to stop me, 
telling me to come and get my medication; he’s a bit pushy and unwilling. Gave me the medications. He did put some Phorpain gel on my right shoulder when I asked. Then settled on his mobile. I asked him if he would help me with stocking the higher shelf. I asked him again; this time he heard me and came into the kitchen to join me.
He did help, then departed. 👍🏻
What a selection of pop bottles and spring water IÂ now have; in the nini hallway, three areas of the kitchen, all on the floor. Fruit cordials to flavour the spring water 
occasionally.
Around and underneath the four-wheeled trolley, in the kitchenette. Lime & Lemon. Grapefruit &Â pineapple, Cream soda. Tropical fruit, 
Pink lemonade, Cloudy Lemonade. In the hallway, I’ve got JS spring water. A Buxton’s pack of six 1-litre fresh water. A JS pack of 8 500g spring water. 4 x 2-litre 
plain well water. And, near the not-working-but-I-can’t-afford-to-mend radiator; some soda water that I managed to get, and 12 cans of Tropical Crush. I mixed 
some and others not, putting them in the fridge, ready to cool. So, I will have no bother keeping the bladder and Catheter operational and not blocking up. I got all these before the Oligarchal, sarcastic, snotty, piss-taking, 
Card-Block-loving, insufferable, nauseous, dislikeable, unpleasant, discourteous, TSB get the pleasure of calling me in to be investigated again.Â
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A GREAT VIEW!
A mudslide for the first time in months on the end car park on Chestnut Way at the end of the road. I hope I see more of them as it used to be.
I took this one through the window on the balcony.
I opened the window for the car park flood shot. Sorry, I did now. Trapped my finger closing the window.
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Jenny’s Frank called with a Swiss roll for me from Jenny. Frank was soaking wet through, bless him. Dried himself a little with some kitchen towelling I gave him. He told me that Jenny had improved a little, health-wise.
This is why I had a better day. Great News! 💗🌺
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After the last Carer call, I investigated what to have the potatoes cooking in the crock-pot for the daily meal later on. I’m going to have peas; I opened the can and added them to the potatoes, and then heat up a shortcrust vegetable pastry. These I like. The only problem is my right side’s shaking shoulder and fingers, which all but guarantee that I’ll have a mess to pick up hundreds of crumbs from the carpet, chairs and my body.
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FLAVOUR RATING: 9.20/10
I ATE THIS, SO, SLOWLY… WHY?
The main reason was the rotting, eroding teeth and Toothache-Tiffany. The next guilty, painful parties were Peripheral Neuropathy Pete and Shaking-Hands-Paul.
What a mess I made of eating this tray of fodder!
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Day Snaps
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Inchie: Wed 19th Aug 2026 Hopes go stagnant…
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An even more terrible day.
Amongst the, oh, so many things that harassed me, and those that piffed me off so much, especially those I was understanding, digesting and interpreting wrongly.
Making me feel a far greater… as Del might have called me: Plonker, than I was… he’d have been right.
The damaged brain box was not compatible with common sense, at all. I don’t know why I bothered saying that: It’s been like this and getting worse every day for weeks, but at a more rapid rate. Going to the Nuthouse Hospital on Friday to finish the assessment we started last Wednesday. The Carer ran out of time, and the kind lady set up another one. This time it is going to prove a more costly visit. The Easy Link & L9 buses have stopped trading altogether. I anticipate that, instead of the £3 charge each way, the taxis will likely cost me £40.
Bit of a tip for the whippersnappers here:
Sort your pension out (if you are working) and underestimate how much you will need. If you are a non-worker, don’t worry. You’ll be looked after. Better of than someone who has worked all his life and is on the breadline. Free transport, free Carer costs, rent, no Council tax, etc. On and on, all sorts of help.
Cause I am currently spending nearly ÂŁ1,721 a week on needed Carers. Been told I need one every time I go out, due to my having a seizure and walking in front of a bus on Mansfield Road. Our wonderful NHS has told me that in future, if I have any trouble with Catheter blockages, I have to get a Taxi (last time it cost me ÂŁ24.50) to the hospital A&E because it is a medical emergency and will be quicker than waiting for an ambulance.
No one saw me medically for four hours, well, 5 hours, adding the time getting there and waiting to be seen for my medical emergency. and the pressure from the bladder forced urine out through my penile fungal lesions, and I was soaked through. If you happen to have a Catheter fitted and are forced to do the same, take a few rolls of kitchen towels and some bog roll with you, cause they had neither in the toilets. You may lose your place in the queue too. I did when I hobbled to the toilet to clean myself up, and even then I was dribbling urine on the floor when I went back to be told, “Your name’s been called; you missed it; you’ll have to take a seat and wait again.” Yes, you’ll feel embarrassed, frustrated, uncared for, humiliated, angry and ready to give up.
So, best to have some uppers with you. Benzodiazepines, cannabis or opioids. If you are lucky enough to have crippling arthritis, or a blocked Catheter, get your quack to give you some Oxycodone; keep a stock for when you go to hospital in your late years, when you’re about 80. They work for me when I remember to take them with me, which has yet to happen since the one time I did, and when a keen-eyed Doctor took them off me.
(Only joking about that). Hehehe! I think. Failing that, if you take a tube of glue with you, it’s cheaper than fags and real drugs.
If you have mental and/or physical problems and no pension, fret not. We workers, now suffering for doing so, are being refused help because of the private work pensions we paid for over 59 years. Wearing down our mental and physical health, can supply part of our taxes paid to make sure you want for nothing.
Forget what I said!
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Well, another thing that got to me in the morning.
Further proof, if needed, of my abilities and memories 
getting increasingly worse…
I’m not sure how I managed this, but since I got such a late start on this blog this morning, I thought I’d start by getting the photos on file.
I started getting Thursday’s snaps on the file… and stupidly thought I’d already used Wednesday’s, and happily deleted them all!
Finding out when I got around to updating this one;
I could have dried,
Self-hatred intensified,
My few teeth gnarled,
My brain had glitched,
Calmness was not applied,
I even self-bepitied,
My self-respect box emptied,
Guilt, self-loathing emanated
Self-castigated, chastised,
I could have gladly died,
My little pride, attenuated!
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Not that this hasn’t happened before. It can happen when my memory stutters. I lose grip and drop things. I think of TSB Bank, British Gas, Virgin Media, FIFA, Putin, Trump, or any other Oligarch… fiddler, mugger, flimflammer, mountebank, chiseller, illywhacker, or terrorist.Â
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Inchie: Tuesday 18th Aug 2026
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AN IOTA OF HUMOUR
Waking up, I felt a bit better, if not my best,
Jumped out of bed and thumped my chest.
Did some press-ups, 200 at least…
Back somersaults, a hundred squats,
To the balcony, for an hour’s hopscotch.
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Tue 18th Aug 2026
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To-dos for tomorrow. Tomorrow… the worst day of the year. Not sure if there will be a blog. Embarrassed!
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Cooler today
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Potatoes boiled with Soy sauce.
Rating: 8.2/10
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