Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie

Inchy Today:Wednesday 9th July 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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Starmer refuses perestroika; a glasnostian,
When I’m PM, I’ll ban fanaticism,
Stop MPs from lying & spouting frustian,
No lies, but they can use gesticulation,
Give the poor free supplies of furazolidone,
Ban the bomb, and bring our troops home,
NHS free for all, no means-test, no question,
Stop making bombs, weapons & munitions,
There will be complaints, fears & a humdudgeon,
But it’ll be better than Starmer still ruling,
If Putin and China start attacking…
I’ll blow our nuclear stockpile, smiling,
Thus, armageddon provoking!
Earth’s globe will start cracking…
With or without the UN’s backing,
Little effort used, in this ‘last war’ annihilating,
First, I must rid the world of drug-taking,
Grass for free, to create minds of harlequin,
Back to reality, still using caution…
My life requires some beautification,
Why, I’ve no comprehension
What’s my message? My intention?
Why do I have this compulsion?
Maybe it’s a mixture of my medication?
Trotsky Terence, or Conrad’s Constipation?
Dementia? Glaucoma? Darius’s Depression?
Coming out of seizures, bring on indecorum…
Loss of balance, confusion… yet self-condemnation?
Sometimes I can, an imaginary machination…
My memory can cause self-misconception,
Mostly in Starmer, the Machiavellian!,
Flagrant, in his backhander-taking & decreeing,
He’s no facial tics, but we see his caterwauling,
Showing no outward signs, when he is lying
Other than when he’s verbally talking,
Pensioners, workers, he is imperilling,
More Gazians, innocents, will be dying,
I wish he’d go back to barristerising!

THE BUSY DAY OF THE WEEK
04:15hrs: I was woken by an ailment, which I thought might have given up on me. He’s not been twitchy for about a month. But no, he’s back again!
I’d forgotten how much he used to make me jump, and hurt! But, to be fair, he’s been a lot more painful in the past. Mind you, he’s out of practice. Hehe!

The nocturnal pouch was detached from the day bag; I was pleased by how light the colour was. Then I took last night’s rubbish to the big bag in the kitchen and washed the tea mug.

Knowing it was going to be a day of interruptions, Wednesdays are, with the Carer doing an extended visit to assist me with the banking, laundry and Email sorting. I decided that I’d better get the  done straight away. So, I did. Stripped off, slippers taken to the wet room door, and entered… immediately, the need arose for the . After two days of difficult-to-encourage events (apart from one visit when Trosky made a limited comeback), I was expecting the same again, but no! Sticky, gooey, pongy, and so time-consuming to clean up afterwards. No chance of a go on the crossword book.
Luckily, while cleaning, I knocked some bits off the floor cabinets and realised I had still not replaced the empty PP pouch. So, I did. I found a pack of the old, thick ones I used to wear when the blood flow was high. Back to the junk room number 3, to get another pack. They felt a bit brittle; they’d been in stock a while. So would be if I’d been left on a shelf with the sun hitting me for months. 
I was a bit concerned about my teggies; they hurt when I cleaned them. Another tooth was lost this week, and two more had lumps broken off.
The shaving went great! Not a single cut or nick!
A bit of a farce in my plans to have a shower, the water was almost cold… I shot out into the kitchen, and sure enough, I’d left the tap running yet again. A stand-up wash had to suffice.

I have started and completed the health checks. Results are looking good! Made the bin bags into one bigger one.
Took a snap of the view from the kitchenette window. Caught the shadows cast by the upcoming sun from behind the prison block. No! Flats, flat block!
Carer Ejaz arrived. Gave out the medications and checked my body over. He Cetrabended underarms, and the legs and ankles. Which looked to be getting a little worse again, according to the photo he took on the left.
Unbeknownst to me, Ejaz also took these three snaps.
Taken with the new camera phone. He showed me how to transfer them to the computer. Bless him.

This is what I plan to have as part of my meal tonight, or in the morning if I get confused and lose the plot again. I always do on Wednesday, and it will require more input from me today. As the person doing this more extended visit has not done it before. So, when I’m asked what needs to be done, how, and where things are, I’ll no doubt get confused and forget details to pass on, tasks to do, and how to do them. I honestly can’t deal with more than one thing at a time nowadays.

Frustrating? Yes! Embarrassing? Yes! Self-Anger Making? Yes! I imagine I won’t have time for any seizures today, Haha! Not complaining at all, just saying. And some praying, too.

I put some vegetables in the crock pot for later.
Mushrooms, garden peas, and onions, forgetting to put some potatoes in with them. When I discovered (counting those in the computer and emails) my 112th mistake of the day, by missing off the spuds, I cursed!
I pressed on with the blogging, but it was painfully slow going and even more mistake-ridden. Concentration Konrad appeared to be on strike.

Oberstgrüppenfuhreress and Primo Ballerina, ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Warden Deana, came in the flat. Bringing a new Alarm Alert wristlet for me. Bless her.
She set it up with the NCC (Nottingham City Council control room). Put it on my wrist. The band on the old band was elasticated cotton and was easy to get on and off. This new one is thicker, wider and has to be threaded when taking it on or off. Makes sweat marks on the wrist. Dean said to let me see how it goes. If any problems, they can change it to a necklace one, if needed. 

Carer Mirza arrived. A grand lad. This is likely to be, well, will be chronologically out of sync. Mirza talked me through charging and using the text on the new phone. I took my first photo with it, of Mirza. The sun was blasting through the paper-thin, moth-eaten curtains. Not a good one, but still. I explained that the laundry needed to be done, as well as emails and banking (we didn’t get to that), and the kitchen floor, if time allowed. Mirza was advised about the pots I had prepared for washing, retrieved the bag, and I told him where the laundry room was located on the ground floor. He went into the kitchen and returned, asking where the washing machine was. I had to smile and tell him where the community laundry room was on the ground floor again. Off he went. I tried to get some of the blog done, which I did, but not very well. Too many faults. 
The lad returned and helped me with some emails. We checked the British Gas electricity meter, as the email said, I have a new account? No new meter in the cupboard. He’ll ring them next Wednesday… if it’s him that calls, of course. He then checked two other emails, but I wasn’t making notes and forgot which they were. But they are on the list for next week, for Mirza, I hope. So many Carers are getting all my banking details. He also checked a bill, I think, and it was all okay. My head was spinning.
He went down to put the laundry into the dryer and returned a while later. The dryer wasn’t working. I went down with him to the laundry room. He got caught off guard by one dryer that resembled a washer, but it was free, so he put the clothes into it. 
Back up to the cell… no, flat we went.
Mirza, kindly started copying things from the Alert Alarm Handbook, which was too small for me to read.
He copied anything he thought might need my attention or awareness. I appreciated that.
Down he went to get the laundry, came back and hung the clothes up for me. Thanked him, and he said he would be doing the teatime call. As I said, lovely lads, him and Ejaz.

I may add some of these mini-sausages, they are Pork and apple flavour. I ate a couple as I added them to the pan. Nice!

Getting late now, and the weariness and nigglyness are coming on. Humph!
I spent hours trying to catch up on the blog, but I was interrupted too many times, and I made so many mistakes, which delayed things.

It is now 23:20 hours! I must stop working on the blog (I’ve been neglecting it) to review and reply to the emails and comments. Gawd knows when I’ll get food, let alone sleep! A broken night’s sleep again, I was repeatedly waking up with a jump or a jerk.

Old age and insanity are a poor combination. I got on with the WP Reader viewing and commenting.
Then, messages… Tired? Me? Yep!

01:30hrs: I finally got a meal. I got the TV on and fell asleep eating my meal. Repeatedly waking up to the accompaniment of seeing what I’d missed, and off again into the land of nod.
Waking for the 20th time at 04:50hrs. Finding the stone-cold sausage hostage casserole; Oh, sorry Starmer, that’s your phrase, I meant sausage casserole.
Thought about getting up… Zzz! Nodded off again. 05:00hrs, woke me again… I was determined to get up this time. Zzz! 
05:25hrs, a slow, more natural awakening. I started planning to get the nocturnal catheter bag removed and take a photo of the sunshine that was blazing through the tatty, thin, torn curtains. Zzz!
06:00hrs, and an awakening due to
Having a tour of my Torso and neck.
So, I got up!

An honest assessment of today’s mood:
Not one of my better days.

🤎 KEEP SAFE & WELL, EACH 🤎

Inchy Today: Monday 7th July 2025

/ Inchie / 25 Comments

Hitler.  No, Mussolini.  No, Tony Blair.
No, Lord Haw-Haw.  No, Margaret Thatcher.
No, Harold Shipman.  No, Xi Jinping, 
No, Benjamin Netanyahu,  Erm…er…
His Dad might have been a Toolmaker?
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I’ve got neurotic problems by the boatload,
Insufficient money to make a billfold,
Glaucoma Gladys is becoming a blindfold,
I’ve got a body that should be in a centrefold,
I’ve a brain that can no longer behold…
The richness of asking or being told,
No longer retains, cannot withhold,
Dropping, walking into things, I could explode,
Hence, I’m writing this little threnode,
I’ve looked for but not found my Motherlode,
Depression, frustration, failure, all incommode…
Often, I feel I can’t cope, period!
It’s driving me back to the amber fluid!
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So many Whoopsies, Accifauxpas & mistake-ridden, frustrations, failures, worries, Seizures, everyone with a terribly confusing state of mind when I returned to mock reality, neurological problems, and what a rotten day it was.  I wrote three full pages of reminders on the notepad, and as I read them this morning, they proved to be of little use.  I think if I read and understood the so-called text, I could probably decipher less than 10%!  And some of them were partly guessed at. 
Therefore, some aspects will be mixed up, chronologically out of sync, incorrect, mistaken, or unbelievable.  However, I’m so far behind that I’ll have to rush the job, and mistakes are inevitable. 
Sorry, but I do my best, but I must rush things to be ready for the Matron, JS food delivery, and a call from the Neurological Lady regarding the procedure details.  Although that might be happening tomorrow.

I’d been working through last night to catch up on the blogs.  Suddenly it was 05:00hrs!  I turned off the computer (failing to save the CorelDRAW).  And had to leave things and get into the hospital bed.  05:25hrs.

07:15hrs: The intercom rang, and I clawed my way out of bed to the panel and admitted Carer Ejaz.
I was back in bed by the time he arrived at the flat and felt so tired that I just stayed there.
I’m sure I must have been having a nocturnal seizure because of how confused I felt.  Not with it at all.

11:00hrs: I shot awake in a bit of a panic.  Thinking it was Tuesday, and the JS food delivery was due between 07:00 and 11:00 hours… and I’d missed it!

I got the email on the computer to see if any message had been left for me from JS.  This is when I realised it was Monday, not Tuesday.  That helped calm down my semi-panic mode.
I took this snap through the balcony windows.  Then, I started planning a wet room session to perform ablutions and self-medication.  Beginning with a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
Constipation Konrad single, painful, bloodied and the longest-winded session for many a month.
A lengthy sitting this was.  However, I did manage to find a couple of solutions to the crossword.  Getting the muslin bag from the catheter contraption was painful, but that’s always the case.  Shaving took a while, as I’d got Shaking Shaun and Dizzy Dennis visiting at the same time, so I took things as carefully as I could.  The result was a terrible shave, but still, now to face the showering.  Which went great!  A bit rushed, but I still enjoyed it.  I remembered to turn the power box off, as well!
The next page of notes was redundant.  Couldn’t read them at all.  The next photo reminded me a little.  I recall taking this photo of the legs after reattaching the contraption.  I asked Ejaz later to fit the muslin bag support, which he did.

Stayed with me on and off all through the rest of the day.  These short ones take so long to recover from. 

The lost and unreadable hours of the short day, I just know I didn’t and wasn’t happy with.  But details, as I say, are not gettable.

I recall Carer Josie arriving just as I was struggling with coming out of a seizure.  I’m sure I tried to explain to her, but I have a feeling I waffled too much.  At least, I think I did.  I found that she had written on the notepad to remind me to ask the Carer to change the urine pouch on Tuesdays.

I’d decided not to bother with any fancy meal and left out two cheesy-topped cobs and the Matmite to go on them for later.

I do remember taking this shot of the kitchen window sky view.  Oh, yes…
Because after taking it and bringing the Koad back from the window frame…
I knocked a bottle of sea salt from the counter.  The glass did not break, but the cap flipped open, leaving a fresh aroma after I cleaned it up.  Haha!

A nicely burnt vegetable pastie.  Two Marmite-filled cheese-topped bread rolls.  Sliced and salted a beef tomato.  Some Frazzles and a mini ice-cream lolly to follow.

At 22:00hrs, there was a European Ladies football match.  I tried tuning in to the Fries, Chief Executive Officer and Vice Chairman of Liberty Global, who owns Virgin Media.  He took home $64m in FY2-L.  Champion Global Oligarchs, grubstakers, securities brokers, stinking-rich, plutocratic, multi-core, con artists, artful deceivers, flimflam artists, TV.
At 23:05hrs, I gave up.

Today’s estimated share.
I’m hoping for an improvement tomorrow.

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🤎 Have a Jolly Good Day! 🤎
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Inchy Today: Sunday 6th July 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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TO HIS SERIES OF DREAMS LAST NIGHT
I hiked there in my warped realisation.
The result of a moment’s aberration,
Off for an afternoon spent riparian,
I enjoyed this on Bristol’s River Avon,
Ah, the peace, no altercation…
I saw my first coprophagan…
Missing the cow turds, with attention,
No visits from Agathodaemon…
I felt totally free of depression,
A gentle breeze, the sun my guerdon,
On the river, flotsam & hymenopteran,
So peaceful, no thoughts bacchanalian,
My mind wandered off on its own volition…
Viewing the world without condemnation,
I fell asleep, & found perfection…
Suddenly, no hatred, wars, crimes or derision!
Harmony, with Angels, each a protecting guardian,
All around me, people dressed Edwardian,
Azaleas, looking up at me, showing their apotropaism,
No scent of fear, or need of apogeotropism,
Then, I feared for this imaginary kingdom,
Knowing what lies ahead, I had the wisdom…
A man filling his pipe, his girlfriend paying attention,
Would she lose him in a war, perhaps the Crimean?
Senghenydd explosion, 439 men died while mining,
I woke up to find I had a problem,
A water-filled, leaking Wellington!
Maybe a seizure, I thought, after an interregnum,
This was all beyond my comprehension,
Yet the day felt real, in fact, so idyllian,
I even managed a little self-irrision,
I felt joyful, blithe, with exhilaration…
But riddled with suspicion…
Was today all but an illusion?
I’ll have to give this some consideration!
I certainly felt a strange abnormalisation…
I got there & back without transportation?
I searched but found no medication,
Ah… I’m at a different location!
Brookfield Place, under Arkwright St station,
All gone now, not in my memory & imagination,
It smells the same, soot & smoke from the train station,
The rag & bone man, horse & cart creating a ruction,
We try to get an increase in price, but get a reduction,
I saw myself poor & undesirable, a bezonian…
This dream is like a circumbilivagination,
The stable, the wood yard, folks in contradiction,
What I see may well be a conceptualisation…
But to me, it was a reassuring actualisation,
The smell of boiling bones for the gruel,
Not that I ever thought this was cruel,
Survival meant we had to be adaptable,
Cow heel, rabbit; if one were catchable,
Mother found cigarettes to be ascertainable,
Usually scrounged, stolen or pocketable,
As a small lad, others found me punchable,
Despite this, I remained compliable,
Although the neighbourhood was a little tribal,
Everyone had a go at me, it seemed logical,
I thought this was to be expected and normal,
I’ve always been easy to clobber & bumfuzzle,
Never knew why, but Mother called me her barnacle,
They pulled the old Meadows down… terrible!
It’d be a treasure to anyone archaeological!
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0535hrs: I think I woke just after having a seizure of some kind or other. Because I was so confused and wobbly on my feet when I dismounted the bed to sort out the nocturnal catheter. I felt the need for the Porcelain Throne brewing up in my innards.

Dizzy Dennis joined in the sensations as I slowly hobbled, with a degree of balancing difficulty, to the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a messy and extremely long affair. The time spent cleaning up the limbs, bottom, and porcelain was worse because I kept getting dizzy each time I bent down. 
Another mystery from Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Dank Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhoea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morgana, hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, and logicality were already on the wane.

But as I hobbled back to the kitchen, I realised it was as if someone had corrected my balance, and the Dizzy Dennis had gone off into the ether?

As I thought about this gift, with her stabbing pains started in the neck this time. And spent three hours touring around my torso. Under the left arm, right chest, centre chest, back to the neck, almost up to the chin, right chest… etc.
When she suddenly stopped, I wasn’t surprised; she must have worn herself out. Hehehe!

I poddled out onto the balcony to take a couple of shots of the view in the rain, through the windows, of course.
I had to take a shot from the end of the balcony as the innards were gurgling and rumbling again. Once again, was in control. At least it wasn’t as messy as the first. But it was extremely gooey! Smelly-Phoo, too!

Back to the balcony to take a window end shot.
Although I am not very often pleased or confident about anything I do nowadays, this one I was happy with.
. Hehe!

Carer Ejaz rang the intercom. I fumbled my way to the box, pressed ‘receive,’ and the panel showed Ejaz on his phone. I then pressed the release button on the door. The intercom chimes started again, and the inner lobby door had not opened! I tried again, but no success. (No success? Could that go on my plaque at the crematorium? – Or, as someone suggested last year, would this be better: “He came, He failed, He Went?”  Got carried away again there. Sorry. So, I’d got my dressing gown on from when I went out onto the balcony to take the fantastic, wonderful, magnificent photo above left. Haha! So I went down to admit Ejaz.
How long will this visit last? I’m absolutely loving this mood! 👍🏾

Ejaz was wet from the rain, poor lad. He got the prescription medications sorted for me and reminded me to take the B12 supplement. No Peptac or Cetraben is needed. As Anne Gyna was on a break, the legs, ankles, and feet that had been fed to bursting point over the last three weeks are looking great, super-duper! Yee-Haa!

I made a determined effort to complete yesterday’s blog. Although, was, for some reason going blurring my sight, almost as bad as she does when I look at the sunshine.

A couple of hours later, the intercom rang again. It was the Iceland order arriving. I tried to tell him the door might not work and that I’d be down to open the lobby door manually for him. I’m not sure if he heard me, as the screen dies within a few seconds. So, I got dressed again, and as I was leaving to go down, the driver arrived. He put them in the kitchenette for me.
The first thing I noticed was the big bag of toilet paper. They were a bit more expensive than my usual ones, but it was the sale price, and it stated they were triple-ply. So, with getting frisky with me, I thought it best.
What a Mistaka to Maker!
👎🏼Just look at the size of this sheet that I photographed! Pathetic!
I swear that it will take a third of a roll to wipe my bottie after a evacuation!
As I photographed a selection to go into the fridge, I noticed that Iceland Foods had done it again. 👎🏼The steak slice had a must-be-used-by date of Today!
👎🏼And, disappointment number three from Iceland Foods, the baby potatoes. I had to throw away six of them. (see the photo on the right). They were either split or had black spots near the surface; some had both! 👎🏼When I opened a pack of the shortcake biscuits, they had been ready-pre-crushed for me. The company’s new slogan is Google tells me:
👎🏼“That’s why we go to Iceland” Huh!👎🏼
Free delivery, though, as long as you spend £40.
No mention of the fee for picking, packing and carrier bags. But one has to be fair. Asda often pre-crushes your bread to make it easier to digest; their dates are dodgy, too.
Even J Sainsbury sent Royal Farms Grown Anya potatoes last week with black spots, and they were to be used by the same day as the delivery. And cheesy cobs. But with Trump, Putin, Xi Jinping, and Sparkling Toolmaker’s Son Starmer doing their best to prompt World War Three, does this really matter enough to bother about? Maybe not!

A Little Quiz: There was an item in one of the photos that Carer Mizra pointed out had ingredients. Here they are; see if you can find out which product it was from them. Ingredients: Beef (1800P08 per 1g) of beef xxxxxxx. Seasoning: dextrose, caster sugar, salt, onion powder, yeast extract, tomato powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, caramelised sugar. Natural flavouring: Citric acid, smoked maltodextrin, oregano, liquorice powder, paprika extract, salt, vinegar, potassium sorbate. The seven X’s replace the name of the product. The first comment winner will receive a Certificate Of Merit on the blog.

Carer Mizra arrived, also rather damp-looking.
He took a minute or two to examine the new mobile, trying to figure out how to change the ringtone and make it louder. No luck, but he tried. Thanks, Mizra. Ejaz tried without any luck the other day. I don’t think the option is on the phone at all. They both comprehend the workings of new phones. I think this one has no choice.

I persevered with this blog. And I got some of the photos uploaded and into the WordPress gallery… this is when, to the best of my knowledge, the first seizure occurred. This was a decent, lengthy one, nothing like the five-hour one I had earlier in the week, but again, I was all over the place mentally and physically when I emerged from it. It was replaced by confusion . 
I found that while in the seizure, I’d been working on the blog. I made a right mess of it, which took me ages to get right again.
It took me half an hour of just sitting here feeling sorry for myself, especially after the longest-ever unbroken visit from .

All the effects were lessening when Carer Mizra returned. During the time he was here, clarity returned, along with something that amazed me, but it was back in my head again. No rhyme or reason. Nothing had changed, apart from Carer Mizra calling and the head and dizzying clearing. Yet, I’m in a Sod-Them all mode again. Unbothered, unworried? How I wish I could summon Horis up when I need him! 🤸🏻‍♀️

Back on the balcony.
The rain had stopped. I got a decent shot of the famous end of the car park’s mudflow.

Then, the amazingly dull but still gorgeous sky. Then I’m afraid that things have changed slightly for the worse!
A dual attack coordinated by and hit me; this was not good.

The last Carer call was with Mizra. When he was here, joined in. Mizra had never seen (or heard) Roger in action before.
He seemed genuinely worried, asking if he should call an ambulance. No sooner had he gone than the rain came again. I took a snapshot of it from the closed kitchen window.

Back to the blogging. Thinking and praying for the return of . No luck! 

I continued with this lengthy blog. Suddenly, I realised it was 05:00hrs! No wonder I was feeling done in. I had no energy for food preparation, so I saved the things and closed the computer.

It took all the energy I had left just to climb into bed. For the first time ever, I ignored the panic-thoughts of Did I lock the door. Are the taps turned off, etc? I was not feeling too well and was too tired to be bothered. Well, that was a first!
Luckily, nothing was found amiss in the morning.

Apart from the fact that I was so far out of it.

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TTFNski.
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Inchy Today: Saturday 5th July 2025

/ Inchie / 18 Comments

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STARMER
Starmer, the PM, is famous for his lies!
A man I could never ever heroise,
HMG? disloyalties, treacheries, perfidies…
Dishonesty, profligacy, untrustworthy,
Labour Party values adulterer.
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Got to catch up, so a quickie today

Carers, Mizra & Ejaz today.
Three visits today to theall of a similar nature.

TTFN
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Inchy: Fri 4 July 2025, What A Day Again!

/ Inchie / 21 Comments

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But what is it that they actually be?
I’ve a feeling these are linked to me,
Mayhap my frequent aggrieves?
Or the quinquennial that always amazes?
My failed helpers & appeasers?
Failures that come in abundance?
Or, my non-existent audience?
My collection of male pink brassieres?
Or when I drank brandy & beers?
Wore a balaclava and short trousers?
Or are politicians now tyrannisers?
My strange addiction to typefaces?
My being the best of the underachievers?
My belief is that there’s more than one universe.
I’m still using inches, pounds & ounces?
I’m running out of money and common sense…
I need and seek a mental carapace,
Physically, Duodenal Donald, Colin Cramps…
Anne Gyna, FND, PN and seizures,
I’ll give up if I get any more strokes,
Sometimes I feel as if I’m a scapegrace,
In so many ways, I’m a disgrace,
Life seems full of failures, mishaps & shivas,
And as for the dying neurotransmitters…
They guarantee me shakes & quivers,
Dropsies, neck-jerks, twitching and quaives!
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Colin Cramps…
Pete with his Peripheral Neuropathy…
Roger Reflux, Lymphorrhoea Leslie…
Dark Deep Depression Duncan, Eczema & Acne,
Gladys Glaucoma, Arthur Itis in each knee,
Cartilages, too, that give way on me,
Seizures that leave me confused and hazy…
Myoclonic, Absence, Stuttering Stephany…
Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie,
Dodgy Virgin computer & their TV,
I suppose one could call me semi-unlucky?
Bearing in mind I’ve just spilt my tea,
I’d reply, absobloodylutely!
Add the world’s continuing bellicosity,
I’ll soon be reaching eighty…
Is there time for me to act irresponsibly?
Be slap-happy, live more cheerfully?
Septically, hygienically & less sceptically?
Sod-them-allish, go all criminogenically?
Full of vim, reckless, brash, audaciously?
Live life like it was planned to be?
Oh, the catheter bag needs to be emptied of pee!
That’s enough of my written chicanery.

And I thought yesterday was busy!
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I’ll try not to miss anything, but it was a heck of a hectic Friday. Still, it kept me busy.
Got miles behind with the blogs. I may be making unintentional chronological mistakes, given the long time that has passed between events and my recording them on the blog. I blame…

04:20hrs (Most of this is according to the hard-to-read scribbled notes on the notepad) I got the nocturnal catheter pouch emptied and had to dash… well, hobble-quickish to the wet room and
. It was a close call this morning; the instant I bent down, before any contact was made between my bottom and the raised-up WC lid, the torrent shot out! Seconds later, when the contact took place, the evacuation was over, done and dusted! Then I had to clean up the splatterings from my body and the Porcelain furniture. During this, I knocked over various medical stuff from the floor cabinet. By the time the bending was finished, I  , and in doing so, had joined in.

I made a double-teabag brew. A Thompson’s Irish Breakfast and a Co-op 99.
Turned on the computer, and with praiseworthy but foolishly, I hoped to catch up on blogging. (This didn’t happen)
This second visit, which didn’t feel as urgent as the first one, fooled me. It’s an easy thing to do nowadays.
In contrast to the brief first job. It was mushy, but kept coming in surges. I even got out the crossword book and gave it a try. (No, I didn’t get any of the three outstanding clues solved) But there was less cleaning up to do. It only took me a couple of minutes, and I didn’t knock anything over. However, the session must have taken me 20 minutes before the in-control had finished. I wouldn’t have minded if I could have solved some clues!

I took this shot of the not-so-pleasant morning from the kitchenette window. First morning without sunshine at daybreak for a few days now. Then, dang me, the sun broke through, coming up from behind the building. I  caught the Nottingham City Hospital in the next shot.

As I started the lengthy Odeing session, Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications; the body was not checked today. I told and showed Ejaz how the feet, ankles, and legs looked much better. And for once, my looked fine. We used the Cetraben cream instead of the Barrier cream yesterday. It seemed to work better.

I checked on Google to find the cheapest Cetreben online. After an hour, I decided to try to sign up with Chemist4U, an online pharmacy, and place an order for Cetraben, Medical Olive Oil, and Co-Codemols. I got registered after making the order. However, they continued to refuse me and confuse me. First name needed. ‘Go to ‘billing’ and amend. Could I find the Billing Section? No!
I gave up and cancelled the order, sending them details of my problem. No answer was received. This cost me about two hours, farting about getting nowhere. I tried again from scratch. Another hour passed, and I gave up. Then, a code was sent to me via email to enter their order. But there was nothing in the email box to copy! Anyway, I cancelled the order… You can see why losing Carer Joe has caused me problems. I’m sure he would have picked up whatever it was that I did wrong, a Whoopsiedangle plop of some sort, I expect.

Then, an hour later, I received a robot message from C4U, which didn’t make sense to me. I just answered, saying I couldn’t get the order passed and I have given up on it. Getting wound up now! Inevitably, and both kicked off. So, getting any of the blogs done was not easy. Then , a three-hour-long on-and-off attack started. It’s not the attacks; it’s the coming out of them that gets to me. Also, I’m not getting any warnings before they come nowadays. Baffling.

Then the new old people’s mobile was delivered. Carer Manpreet could not help me set it up; she did not have the time, as she was on the afternoon’s short safety check. Told me to ask Carer Ejaz later or the next day. I sneaked an extra codeine and took many gulps of Peptac to ease the physical pains. But the mental ones were worse, and nothing could ease the anguish and frustration I was in. Absolutely (as far as I recall), amazingly, my frustrations were so high that for once, that Couldn’t get a look in! I was just fixated on coping with the aftermath of the mini-seizures and angry that nothing was going right! As it stands, Carer Joe is gone, so there’s no help. Although I’m hoping Carer Ejaz can assist with the mobile.

I was trying to get back to the blogging, and the Dettol was delivered. Back to the computer, and… Then , I should have said, the lovely retired District Nurse arrived, took a look at, and confirmed that  my right leg and ankle were now cleared for use. She did say there was some crinkled skin and to be careful not to catch or bang it. And she will call next week to assess the feet. Her bit of caring made a world of difference to me. 🤎🌺 I’d still go nowhere with the blogging; tomorrow looks like a losing, no-chance-of-catch-up-on-the-blogs day.

The landline burst forth its trill sounds. As I reached for it, a no-warning mini-seizure gripped me. I didn’t know who it was until I came around, and they were talking fifteen to the dozen. I’d not got the foggiest of what or who it was for a minute or so. As I regained some of my composure, I explained to the caller why I was not responsive. Of all the callers, it could have been the bank, Matron Julie, no, no Matron Jackie, the police, British Damned Gas, the Doctor, a debt collector, Sister Jane, Warden Julie, Jenny, it was from the Neurosurgeons at the QMC. This was brilliant! For the lady had rang to inquire about the seizure’s nature. Now she knew! She had obviously got a list of questions and went through them all. She was gathering as much detail as possible before the procedure in November to determine the best course of action. She is going to make me an earlier appointment, for September or thereabouts, to see the surgeon and decide what can or needs to be done. She said it’s critical to gain as much knowledge beforehand. Possibly a trephination hole to assess the brain’s neurotransmitter fluids first. I thought that was what they told me weeks ago? Of course, there is a slight possibility that I may have, or might have, got this wrong. Did I forget or have a seizure when on the phone last time? Tsk & Humph!
After 90 minutes on the landline, I vaguely recall trying to log back on to this blog again.

The mobile then rang! Gotten Himmel!
Shirley phoned to let me know that the £35-a-bash toenail cutter, Sarah, was on her way up. I think the names are correct. I got the money ready to pay her. Humph!

Carer Manpreet arrived and issued the medications. Can’t recall much else. Maybe I was coming back from a seizure?

No further updates will be made to the blog. I’ll do my best to complete it on Saturday. As for finding time to start Saturdays off, the chances are maybe 100 to 1. I’ll fall even further behind, so I’ll have to catch up on Sunday’s undone work on Monday, which will put me far behind schedule with blogging. But am I bothered? Yes!

Then, I got an email welcoming me to C4U? Offering email updates of special offers, etc. So, I foolishy made another order. This time, I had to fill in endless detail sheets for most items. I received another email stating that they are processing my order, and it typically takes 4 days to complete. No bother about that. Just pleased I’d got some more medicinal olive oil for the ears and Co-Codamol as a standby painkiller. The footspray, too.

I made a stew, added some red onion, liquid smoke, Gung Po sauce and garden extra green and black peas. Place it in a microwave-safe dish, ready to add some potatoes after it’s cooked. I was doing well today despite the horrendous nature of the proceedings.

Oh, this is the state of the box that carried the new mobile phone to me. It was delivered by Amazon.
Still, the phone doesn’t look as if it’s been damaged at all. 
Carer Ejaz gave it a quick lookover. No time to set it up; he said he’ll try over the weekend to see why there are no ringtones or change options. He called the phone, but I could hardly hear it four feet away from me when it rang!

I went to turn off the computer, not that I’d managed to do much on it anyway. I had a quick check on Gmail… Arrgh!
An email from C4U advised me that my order had been cancelled!
I didn’t cry! Well, maybe inside, I did. Rather, I felt pissed off, annoyed, swore and cursed a lot, and now, depression showed its ugly head. It was as if my whole body reacted. nearly had me off the chair! Followed seconds later, an outburst of stabbing pains from , who had calmed down earlier. Another minute, and tested my pain tolerance by hitting me in the left foot and left hand at the same time! 
Believe this or not, I’d just scribbled these happenings on the memory notepad; in fact, I’d written them all and felt a seizure coming on for the first time in days. I knew it would be a short one; the long ones give no warning. So, I stayed seated and drifted off into the ether.
This bit of the blog gets better… Huh!
When I came out of it, I was facing in a different direction, still seated in the same chair. Seeing the wall clock that fell off yesterday, which I hadn’t retrieved… I thought to myself, “Christ almighty! I’ve been away for five hours!”
pillockI soon realised what had happened. The battery had fallen out of the wall clock, and it showed the wrong time. I’ve had enough today!
I think it was more like two minutes.
The computer work was saved, then shut down unceremoniously. By an ultra-fed-up Inchy!

No more seizures. and both eased off… but were replaced with an angry for the rest of the night and well into the morning! Much Peptac taken.

Now I was feeling down, despite seeing the humour in my feeling that I’d been out of it for five hours.
Hehe!

I wearily got the meal prepped and served up.
I even enjoyed it. But with so many Accifaupas Whoopsiedangleplops, errors and mistakes, it was inevitable that they kept coming to mind.

Carer Ejaz did the late check call. He’ll look at the mobile for me tomorrow. Bless him.

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Inchy Today: Thursday 3rd July 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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I was told to prepare for all contingencies,
I looked this word up in local libraries,
I accidentally looked up continencies,
Was it summat about taking a piss?
Why would Dad want to tell me this?
He also said I can recall the basics…
On yer paper round, don’t talk to strangers,
And don’t put on any airs & graces…
If anyone tries to rob yer, kick him in the knackers,
If you tear a paper in the letterboxes,
Put a note through with your apologies,
If a dog bites yer or attacks with its claws,
Don’t scream or make any noises…
Waking people up will bring annoyance & grudges!
In the rain, don’t get the paper wet with smudges,
Alright if it gets damp, but not if it oozes,
And use blinds or drapes, but never portières.
I’m not too keen on raviolis,
Not up to doing any exercises,
I wake before the day rises,
That’s due to my nocturnal seizures,
Strong chill, too hot, but I like milder spices,
Used love fondling, groping in various guises,
I’m too old to have any sexual fetishes,
Now, a mug of tea & listen to the Archers,
In pain from the fallen arches,
Stuck indoors, no need for coats & parkas,
Some people are nosey-parkers, not the nurses,
The last woman I fancied was into parrillas,
It was shocking, and she charged us!
Still, I’m ready for reembraces!
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Hectic day again.
I’m miles behind again; at this moment, it’s 16:55hrs tomorrow (Friday)! Just got this far with the blog!
A few notes of the day, No doubt some lost and not o the notepad with me getting more and more uptight & frustrated. Then, the few photos I’ve taken.
I’ll have to stop to make a meal sometime, so I will have to finish this Saturday morning… I’m getting Anne Gyna back again now, and she is not in a good mood with me. Well, she can… Soddit! Duodenal Donald has joined in now! Grumph!

Anne Gyna woke me up at 0520hrs, so I rose and sorted out the night bag. Went to make a mug of tea and make an early start on my Wednesday blog finishing. Thinking I could catch up, I’m losing this. Hahaha! pillockCarer Ejaz arrived. Medications were administered, and ankles, feet, and legs were checked. Much better all round, great!
I spent hours on Odeing, searching for new words to use and getting carried away.

Then, I decided to search for a place that sells footspray and Co-codamol.

Lost hours with the time needed to come out of the many mini-seizures. So many blanks.

Erm…
Afternoon Clouds Delight

Well, things indeed became more concentrated after I made the meal: A baguette cut into three, no-butter butter, many slices of salted green tomatoes lashed into them. A Silesian sausage and crisps. 
I found the pot of jelly on Friday night; I’d dropped it when I fell asleep.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Tue 1st July 2025. Farcical Day

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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FOR TODAY
When they come to fit my unwanted smart-meter…
They’ll have to cut off the power,
I’ll need to reset the shower & hot water?
Most worryingly, my computer,
Reset the TV, playbox, & router,
The panic/assistance alarm speaker,
Two landline telephones connected to the ether,
Showing my electrical ignorance & Naïveté,
Time for panic, worry & and thinking waywardly,
Fear, depression, frustration, concern, & misery,
Trying to find & adapt to feel hopefully,
Will I cope with Whoopsiedangleploppery?
Now, as I type, I’ve got amblyopy,
Caused by bewilderment, fear & perplexity.

District Nurses tended to the Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
Thought the leg was doing well, ideally,
But the right foot was still in agony,
Thanked them, sadly, they went away.
They were up to their necks in it, and very busy! 💟

Still awaiting the call from Neurology,
And the mystery parcel from UPS, hopefully, for me,
The kind Kaftan washing lady, 🌺
The nurse, to take blood, Warfarin for the DVT,

Awaiting the Smart Meter, fretfully…
I wound myself up dyspeptically,
Forded into having one, I disagree,
British Gas is acting so oligarchically,
But there’s no option, it’s not discretionary,
This bugs an already pissed-on Inchie!
Concern & fear of their cutting the electricity,
Put Duodenal Donald into declivity,
Anne Gyna’s started showing new activity,
Do I consider British Gas derogatory?
Absobloodylutely!

I opened the balcony doors and windows last night before I settled into the hospital bed; it was flipping well hot in the flat. A bad night, as per usual, disturbed repeatedly for the usual reasons. The need of the Porcelain Throne, each time I nodded off, I’d jump awake within minutes. Then, a couple of my famous “Worry-Bug” episodes. I’d made up a bottle of water for overnight from the fridge, so it was cold for a while anyway. But WBW (Worry-Bug-William) wondered if I’d turned off the taps and closed the fridge door, so I just had to struggle out of bed and into the kitchen to check. All was okay. I got back into bed, determined to get and stay asleep!
Minutes later, WBW was concerned again. Had I turned off the taps in the Porcelain Throne room? 
I think it took away my depression & worries of what would happen this morning with all the callers due, at least temporarily. I’d not left the taps running, but I had left the light on. This brought to mind the unnecessary, unwanted, and unneeded electricity meter that the Oligarchs are putting in anyway. 
That set me off worrying about reconnecting the computer, phone, alarm, router, and so on. 
Yet another crappy night with a pathetic amount of sleep. I plumped into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner. But it does come in damned handy to use to drag myself up after a tumble, trip or fall. Around 04:30hrs, still no sleep and with kicking off, I gave up and got up. At least, although not on top form concentration-wise, and dog tired with the attentions of , starting to grumble, still, it gave me time before the callers come calling to do A good start, as I got into the wet room…

Somehow, suddenly wobbled, and down I went, hitting my chin on the WC raising bar! But, I only went down on one knee, and  . I was able to claw my way back up on my legs using the sink and basin. Heroically, I pressed on with utilising the .
A messier affair than yesterday’s! Clean thing up, and boldly ventured to start shaving… yes, even after all the blood loss from my previous shave, I showed no fear. Okay, ! I thought I was being so careful;
 However, by the time I’d finished shaving, I’d got three cuts, and I spotted I’d got crimped red marks on my chin. A real mystery how that appeared. Unless it was from the contact made with the sink during my initial tumble? Medicated reachable area in need of it. No rushing, because I knew I wouldn’t have time to post on the blog, and it was still early. (I didn’t realise that I was going to get on this blog, then)

Carer Ejaz arrived, spotted the markings and cuts on my face. And told me to buy an electric razor. Ejaz performed a body check and massaged Cetraben cream on the areas I couldn’t reach. The back and feet, for me. The swelling in the legs had decreased, as had the swelling in the feet, but not by as much. I still couldn’t get the slippers on. Ejaz forced them onto my feet for me. Hehe!

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Received some treatment from two district nurses. 

By 15:00hrs, the oligarchs, neurologist, INR nurse,  and the Catheter Nurse had not arrived.  
So, I set about starting this blog.

Expecting an arrival from any one of them at any time. Silly me!

Oh, I did take a few photos. I’ll see if I can get them to load into CorelDRAW.

Late morning view.

Today’s arranged visits. Hahaha!

Put the TV on when I started this blog.

Still awaiting the arrival of the people installing the oligarch’s electricity meter. 

No seizures at all, as far as I could tell?

Still awaiting the installation of the oligarch’s electricity meter.

Bootiful!

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Inchy’s Ode: Monday 30th June 2025

/ Inchie / 12 Comments

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I escaped my flat, my three-roomed home,
First, I took my morphine and prednisolone,
An adventure to get out, though all alone,
Tried to identify each smell, each pheromone,
The tree copse, cooking food and cannabis,
I smelt the gloom, & people’s armpits,
Watched the dogs sniffing out bitches oestrone,
Sick on the pavement, looking like zabaglione,
In the distance, I thought I heard an altoist…
Then, I lost grip of my walking stick,
Took a tumble, realised I was not autarkic,
The Warden came over, and that did the trick.
She got me up again, back in the flat in a tick,
I sat and thought about Starmer…
Not a pleasant pondering on a wanker,
The PM, a backhander-taking free banqueter,
I, a tea & biscuit-dunker, he? Drunker!
He is an oligarch, I am a robbed pensioner,
But I didn’t get any angrier…
Cause the valve dropped off my catheter,
These things have happened before,
Anne Gyna, the ever-leaking oedema,
The nurse will be calling. Bless her,
Today, or the day after,
Clean, cream the legs, and replaster.
All the best to Starmer, the bloodsucker,
I’ve an appointment; Doctor of Neurology,
But that’s not until next November, you see,
My Doctor told them it was an emergency,
I’ve another urgent one waiting for me…
Glaucoma, been waiting since 2023,
I suppose this sounds as if I’m sorry?
Sorry for myself, pathetically?
I guess I may be anti-aristocracy?
They can afford private treatment, medically,
Murderers in jail get treated quicker than Inchy!
I put it down to jealousy, basically,
Worst of all, No Carer Joe, to look after Gerry!
Boosting my ego, caring carefully…
Always a smile, ever helpingly…
My depression depths now? Acceleratingly!
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I feel so low today
Sorry, it is how I feel
Help is not easy to find
Losing Carer Joe stinks
An infected brain rules how I think
I have to question my mind.
Confused most of the time
Now, depressed, all the time.
If there are any prospects of help…
I can’t see them. Sorry.
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Better

Morning view

Legs on waking were looking much calmer.
This would not last, of course.

Erm… can’t remember taking this, or why?

Carer Elaz snapped the top of my head.

Then the hand injury. He put cream on both of them and then on my feet for me.
Not too bad later.

Food arrived.
No-butter butter spreadable.
Regular tomatoes, Milk Roll loaf, Silesian sausages, Polish sausages, cheesy topped bread rolls.
Fish sticks, and three Tiger Tomatoes.
These might taste good.

Fridge not overfull!
Nurses & Carer shelves.

Carer Joe made his last ever call.
What a Priceless Man. He sorted out the online banking again. Bless his cotton socks!

Green/brown tomato sliced and put in the no-butter buttered wholemeal rolls. Two Sileasian sausages, red spring onions, beetroot and some beans. I seem to have run out of peas.
Gorgeous flavour!

Sorry, but tomorrow will be a busy day for me, and I’ll have to cope with more than one caller at the same time. I fear most of them.

British Gas is installing a Smart Meter and will need to turn off the power. Doing so will kill the emergency Panic Alarm, landlines, internet and TV. Plus the fridge and freezer. I have no idea how to get them back on. A genuine worry. So, a blog for tomorrow is doubtful in terms of time. The chances are that I won’t be able to use the phones, alarms, computer, stove, hot water, door, or intercom after they’ve been cut off to fit the Smart Meter, which I’ve never wanted anyway due to my arithmaphobia. Do I seem worried? That’s because I am, and with no Carer Joe to help me sort things.

UPS: Sent an email about a parcel being delivered tomorrow between 09:15 and 12:05 hours.

The nurse is due to clean and remediate, and replaster Lymphoedema Leslie’s bloated, leaking feet and legs.

The Neurology Surgeon’s assistant is to contact me on the landline to discuss the chosen procedure. Twixt 09:30 & 11:00hrs.

Precious is calling to fetch the Kaftans for hand washing, bless her.

There is a chance that the DVT Nurse will be taking blood for the Warfarin INR level testing.

The Community Nurses are due to take out the Cathy Catheter Contraption and replace it. (Shudder!)

How many will arrive at the same time is anyone’s guess, but with my luck, I’ll get all confused and forget all that people tell me.

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See Ya Later Alligator…
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Inchy’s Ode: Today: Sunday 29th June 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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AS I TYPED INSTANT MEMORIES…
Starting with Nelson Cigarettes,
I stopped smoking when they went up to 3/6!
Packs of ten, up to 1/9d, I went to the chemist,
To get something, to stem my baccy addiction,
Lozenges & tablets cost me a fortune!
I’d run out of them by later that afternoon,
Polo mints were cheaper, so I bought a carton,
A week later, off to the dentist in Carlton,
I still needed to stop my baccie attraction…
I overate and increased my aggression,
For unknown reasons, I suffered constipation,
Alcohol was not an acceptable substitution,
I tried nibbling carrots, dipped in vinegar,
My skin went Orange, the doc called it carotenemia,
It took me yonks to beat my addiction,
I could take months was the Doctor’s prediction,
Offering me  tablets, a sort of antidepressant,
The pangs eventually lessened,
I was again feeling benignant,
Regained control, became again complaisant,
But it cost me my body, growing so corpulent!

STUCK IN THE LIFT ON A SUNDAY!
It could happen to anyone, any day,
This day it was the turn of Inchy…
He pressed the alarm button quickly,
Noticed his catheter bag filling promptly,
He hoped the engineer would get there speedily,
His innards rumbled; his bowels may self-empty!
The lift cage shook as it inched up, jerkily…
T’was the fire Brigade, his mobile did tinkle
The voice sounded like he was using a swozzle,
His hearing aid batteries died. What a muddle!
Heard nothing, but thought I might be in trouble,
Instructions being given were inscrutable,
And his catheter bag was now so very, very full!
The inching the lift up, at this rate, it would be April…
Before I’d be rescued, thinking irrationally, silly,
Hours later came the shaming… it was terrible,
They got the lift door open, 2ft of space available,
To physically pull my mass up, all they could do,
Then leant in, and dragged me up and through…
To the flat I almost flew,
Emptied the catheter, what a phoo!
Trotsky Terence’s evacuation, which was well overdue,
Needed to thank whoever lifted me out of the lift, though,
Nice chap, his name was Angelino.
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I was busier overnight than I’ve been in years.
I think I addressed this in the last blog; I nearly bored you with more of the same. Phew! The amount of sleep I got is easy-peasy to work out.
Zilch, None, Zero, Ninguno, Keiner, Dim, Nessuno! 

Falling to sleep now! Huh!

Decent colour

What an ablutioning and medicalisationing visitation this morning. Go wrongable? It did! Huh!
I got some soapy, disinfected water in the bowl without any . Then the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived in a bit of a hurry… !!!
A controlled evacuation, which exited at the speed of a torpedo, followed by the usual splurty detritus. Cleaning it up with all the bending needed gave new life & vigour to and . It also took me that long to clean up, so that the water in the bowl had gone cold. No problem, you say? Just empty it and refill it, you say? Well, it was for me! I made a right mess dropping the bowl as I was tipping it into the sink. I didn’t clean it up; my EQ told me not to bother. As I was refilling it with a jug from the sink tap, the jug shot out of my neurotic grip and joined the cold, disinfected water on the floor! Of course, I just laughed this off and tucked into the painful job of mopping up and drying the floor and mats. (Huh!) 
Then, refilled the bowl with the same things and started to have a shave. (Yes, the blood flowed freely, but not voraciously!) Then, the door chime rang out, and Carer Manpreet came in. There I was, starkus, with blood streaming down my head… I had to ask Manpreet to pass me a pair of PPs as I’d run out of them in the wet room. Which she did. I was given the medications, and Manpreet cleaned the wound on my right hand where I’d trapped it in a kitchen drawer the other day. The feet seemed a lot less filled with oemeba fluids, but they soon refilled again as the day went on… and on, and on. I may not sound happy this morning, there are a few reasons for that. Losing Carer Joe, being the main one. As soon as Manpreet departed, I scurried back into the wet room to continue finishing the shaving.
Of course , the water for washing the feet had gone cold again!
As is my way, I carefully emptied the bowl and refilled it without incident.
I knew I shouldn’t have fallen into a state of smugness. As I began to finish shaving, I’d forgotten about the cuts earlier and swiftly added to the total. Which, as Carer Manpreet had said earlier, added to about twelve. Not now, it’s now sixteen, as far as I can gather. These, along with the three in gash from the other day, make me want to take the advice of Tim Price, and go ‘caveman!’

To the medication of the body’s various departments in need. I started with what I would usually leave till last. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating. I was trying to be careful with the dropper… but dropped it! What a Plonker! It is only a tiny bottle, but all the liquid flowed away on the floor before I could get down to retrieve it… Banging my hand wound on the corner of the floor cabinet! I wiped it and put some Germolene on the thenar space this time, with a plaster. A good job; I keep some medications in stock for emergencies, just in case of any accidental injuries, falls, or walking into a door. Tsk!
Then they were cleaned, creamed and treated.

As far as here, and could do nothing for hours. Made infinitely worse because each bout from brought me back to semi-reality. And I couldn’t concentrate enough to do anything!
It was nearly going bonkers. I may have had a few times when returning to life, recovery took longer each time. Late in the night, the Seizures faded.

I made a meal ASAP in case the seizures returned.

MEAT FEAST TONIGHT

Carer Mizra came as I was washing the pots.
This evening view caught his eye.

I settled in after washing the pots and sat in the second-hand, charity shop-bought recliner that was £300, broken down, with a catheter tube crunching, dried blood-covered, grotty, dirty, and creaking frame, and fell asleep while watching the box. I stayed in it, as the Seizures and Colin Cramps had not bothered me, and might do if I got up to climb into the bed: Cunning, eh?

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May your Woes Weaken, & your Mojo Grow!
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Inchy Today: Sat 28 June 2025: What a days end!

/ Inchie / 13 Comments

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Off to the wet room for a wash and an ablution,
The Porcelain Throne movement was liquidy…
I went to get my anti-diuretic medication,
Opening the drawer, it was a little sticky…
Which held medicines non-prescription,
Taking the box, I went a little dizzy,
Got myself in some confusion,
Trapped my hand, getting a contusion,
A scratch, a bruise, a tiny abrasion, 
Carer Manpreet put on some cream,
And I began to think and dream…
Of the world’s upcoming desolation,
Will Hell or Heaven be awaiting…
Which will lambast us for self-annihilating?
Will we see Heaven or Hell’s disintegration?
117 billion  people have lived on this Earth,
That’s a lot of dead souls. Which were worthy?
How did they get through the gates so pearly?
Adam & Eve, they must have arrived early?
Are their souls with mammoths & anacondas?
Will the Grim Reaper take souls from Pure Cremation?
Are the Reapers from the unknown Hell or Heaven?
Hell’s interviewers assess your suitability for entry?
Oligarchs, Hitler, Stalin, Putin, Trump, & Göring get there?
Along with Starmer & Blair, the backhander taking pair,
Oligarchs, they’ll take over Hell’s agenda,
But we who are currently breathing air…
Will never know if anyone is out there!
I know it was pointless being a Brexiteer,
But the end commeth, but no need to fear!
Although at first, things will seem a little queer…
No body, brain, cataracts, no mouth to drink beer,
No sight, hearing, or need for ablutional passing,
No murdering, wars, revolutions or farting,
Nothing to need fearing, authorising or appraising,
You may not even know, after passing…
No more eating, washing, or inequality,
Rent, electricity, or food prices are rising!
No appealling bodies, for wanting or screwing,
No hours lost constipating,
No corrupting, counterfeiting, courting, or coveting, Canyoneering, chauffeuring, or cheering,
Women, no childbearing, catering, or censoring,
No cleaning, coiffuring, nail polishing,
Or anyone to give a bollocking tongue-lashing!
Aristotle said we may still be dreaming.
I think life may have been spent part-time musing,
While waiting for the inevitable ending?
Still, this is not a sad message that I’m sending,
I’d love to know if this thought is trending,
Hopefully, peace will flow, even if we don’t know…
And nothing worth commemorating!
One final thing that I would like to mention…
Ask a friend, neighbour or relation… 
To check you’re dead before your cremation!
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Not up to much today. Although having said that, as much as I struggled to get the Ode done, and it took me hours, I still managed to glean some pleasure out of it. I’ve got to cope without Carer Joe now. Well, I say that, he has got a call on Monday, sadly, it will be his last one. I’m scared and worried about how I’ll cope without him. He’s saved the day so many times for me, often several times a week!
My fear is getting at me. I can’t help it.

The nocturnal pouch is still attached and shows the red foot, not the white one. Hehe! At least the oedema swelling on top[ of both feet had died down a little while I’d got my feet up. I fell asleep early, but woke up and got up in a semi-confused state, suspecting I’d just had a seizure. Judging by my concentration and balance, they are all over the place.

Took this view from the kitchenette. I then 
decided to sit down, as my balance was not good, and spent hours updating yesterday’s blog.

Carer Mampreet arrived. She administered the medications and applied some cream to the hand wound and the tops of the feet, which were filling up with liquid again. Then she Germolened the shaving scar on the back of my neck. Bless her!
Manpreet took this photo of a hand-wound for me. She used the barrier cream. The photo used in the Ode, the very poor, out-of-balance one, I took earlier. When Shaking Shaun was visiting me.

Back onto the computer and made a dubious start on this blog. Creating the graphics, despite CorelDRAW warning me that it would need to be updated to save any work to the new version. Somehow, I managed to get it to work. I cannot recall what I did, I just pray I can do it again in the morning session. A call from Carer Joe would have been invaluable!

I went to make a mug of tea, my first one of the day. And, I’d been up for nearly five hours already. I’ll pay for this later on, big time.

The Iceland stores order arrived. The driver kindly put them in a line, blocking the doorway, so I could move one at a time. I took some pictures of the food bits, but without the SD card in the camera. Humph! Obtaining the photo of the carriers is another aspect of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, which also includes hobgoblins, spectres, gnomes, phantoms, grotesque succubi, extraterrestrials, ectoplasm, and spirits. Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Duncan, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Inchie, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. My faith, sanity, concentration, and logicality were already well on the wane. 

The tea had gone cold, so I hobbled to the kitchen to make another brew of Co-Op 99 tea. Taking the above snap of my feet & legs, I noticed that they were even more pronouncedly white on the left and red on the right. The oedema fluid had filled the top and bottom of the right foot, making walking more difficult again. Oh, and painful too!

Made a brew and back to the blogging.

Started making Templates for July.

I assume it was, anyway, that kept blurring my eyesight so much that I had to give up on blogging. These ‘Blur’ periods have been lasting for a few minutes at most, then the vision clears again. Not this time; I was still struggling when making the meal, after switching to reading glasses.

Making and prepping the meal was spoiled and harassed by the arrival of . I dropped the knife three times. Slicing the tomatoes resulted in a cut on a fingernail. Burnt my hand, right on the wound from trapping it in the drawer. Finally, I got it made up, photographed it, and settled down to eat it. Which was another farce. Showed up, and the tray plopped onto the floor, distributing various parts of the meal on the carpet! I discovered a partially eaten piece of sausage on the ottoman in the morning.
I salvaged some of it and still enjoyed it.

The cleaning up of the mess after dining was not appreciated at all. , , , ,
and were amongst the ailments that were displeased with all the bending down I had to do. Only the innards that had just had their hunger satisfied didn’t complain. I was in such agony in so many areas of my body.
As I climbed into the hospital bed, there were so many aches and twinges, then (Hah!), joined in the onslaught!
It took me hours to fall asleep. The primary reason is the pain, obviously. But these were exacerbated by and   that I had to get out of bed so often. As I recall, to check that the taps were not left running? Had I locked the flat door? Then I realised that I’d forgot to ask the Carer to fit the nocturnal catheter bag. The fight to get out of bed and the bending down again to find and fit the night bag prompted her to increase the level and potency of her attacks. I had to get up about five times from the hospital bed. Each one was painful, especially under the feet, as I had to walk on the Oedema fluid-filled feet. I gave up, and got into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, second-hand charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner. Thankfully, I had taken a rest, but I was replaced with worrying about how I’m going to manage without Carer Joe.

Sleep turned into a fantasy. I sat there and stewed in my pathetic self-pity, until my leg fell off the chair my feet were resting on, to ease the Oedema problem. That extra bit of pain was enough for to come overhead, and sink into my psyche. So, virtually no sleep. 05:30hrs:  Somehow, I forced myself up to start the day with a gloom that had never been with me before.
And the Whoopsies began again…

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I CAN DO WITHOUT DAYS LIKE THIS!
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