Roger Reflux Valve

Lucky Inchy: Monday 25th May 20216

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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Another bit of fracas mentally, today. 
The split views on this computer are a smidge beyond my comprehension. If ever I get the time, I’ll look up advice on Google. Or, if the computer is in its do-as-it-likes mode, it might be Yahoo that comes up. Grrr! Hope I can understand the instructions, should I actually find any.
I foolishly, but of course, this seems standard for me nowadays. Started Monday’s blog, forgetting I’d not finished Sunday’s yet. Me, feeling a fool? Of course I do.
I’d better make a start on it. Back later or in the morning.
I’m back, as Arnie said. Getting late now, I’ll do what I can, computer obliging, and get caught up in the morning. At least I’ve got yesterday’s bog done and sent off.
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Monday, so I lose good Carers until next Saturday. I asked him to help me wash my feet. He did. I asked him to make a brew of tea, which he did. Red hot this morning, gave him an iced drink and an iced cream.
I bagged my lower back on the door handle going out of the door. Arrgh! I discovered that the nurse who moved the bed to have his last try at getting the Catheter tube back in Little Inchy yesterday had left it too near the door, and it didn’t give as much room. No problem, I just howled, swore and asked the Carer to see if I’d bruised myself. There is nothing worse than getting banged and it hurting so much, and finding no scar or bruise to show for sympathy. Haha! 😄
I think I have had a few times on the computer. Acidic taste reflux, and I was made so many mistakes, it was taking ages to reread and correct. I hope I’ve caught them all.
Then things got scary, although not as depressed as yesterday, it was still hard going. I suppose I may have fallen asleep and not had the seizures, but I will never know with no one to see me and my  exhibition.
It happened so often.
Something was amiss, cause I could read only about 10% on the scribbles on the memory notepad.
Must have missed no end of stuff off.

In the late afternoon, pain was coming from the Kidney Kid, left side, but not from the bladder or the Catheter area? But bearable this time.
The photos brought back some memories.
A Carer noted, when helping me wash my feet and take off my socks, that the bottom scab came off with the sock and bled a bit. Very light blood, not that I know what this does or doesn’t indicate. I asked him to put a plaster on it for me, which he did.

Apart from the back, Little Inchy was still sore from yesterday’s marathon attempts to get the Catheter back into poor Little Inchy’s lesioned hole.
A flipping good job that I put on the Protection Pads when I did my teeth, shaved and a stand-up wash. I’ve still not had a shower for I reckon at least three weeks now.
I was frustrated with my mistakes on the new computer, took a voluntary break, and put the last of the nurses’ nibbles and treats on the Carer’s table.
I must admit, CorelDraw, so hated, swore and yesterday, I thought I was going to give myself another stroke, was only toying with playing up today, the highlight of this Bank Holiday Monday for me!
Is this good luck? It was a very strange sensation!
In the late afternoon, I went to make up some soup for tonight’s meal. Vegetables with added canned peas and chopped boiled potatoes. Adding Teryaki sauce.
Leaving it to marinate and stirring the dish throughout the rest of the day. Slurp!
Then I took this snap of the boiling-hot sun through the kitchen window. Then this rather pretty photograph shows the front car park, the bottom field, and some of the local Sherwood residences.
Half an hour later, I returned to the kitchen to stir the marinating can of vegetable soup, a feast fit for anyone with a fading bank account, failing health, dimming hopes, no pain medication other than Paracetamol, and depression.
While in there, the sky had changed, but the sun was still getting through; as you can see, it had changed somewhat.
Checked the emails and comments, then heated the prepared meal. Email confusion straight away, need help on that… what don’t I need help with… what do I get help with…
Back in the morning, oh, no, this is yesterday’s blog. I must finish it somehow. I’ll tell you about things in the next one.
Back to Email and then comments and reader, then I must get to bed. I’ve confused myself now.
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Good Morning, Tuesday now and catching up on a few happenings to tell you of.
The evening meal brings a touch of comfort to you, doesn’t it? Usually, this one, now I’m back on canned and packaged foods. It was a can of so-called chunky vegetable soup, with some teriyaki sauce and Bovril added, along with some boiled and sliced potatoes, also from a can. I kept stirring this as it marinated in the microwave dish for a good few hours, and several times over the day. I defrosted some bread to dunk in the juices. It took a while to get the pots washed as I pondered on what score to give them taste-wise. I think I’d opted for 6.5/10, as an evacuational motion began from the rear end. I dropped the dishcloth and pot and tore off my thin dressing gown in my unsteady, disabled stampede to the Porcelain Throne.
SPLURT SPLATT, ALL DONE!
I somehow got part of the premature pebble-dashing torrent on the mat, floor, testicles (don’t ask, I don’t know how), legs, feet, on top of the floor cabinet. Even some specks on the outside of the sink! When cleaning it all up as best I could, I swear there was a greeny-brown sliver of Trotsky Terence’s activities on the wall! I know the spurt started just before I could reach the seat with my bottie… so how could all the areas possible have been affected?
Washed myself up last with Dettol in the water, and realised that the hot tap water wasn’t; it was barely warm. I realised far too late, after spending I don’t know how long trying to make things right in the wetroom, what must have happened.
I hastily hobbled to the kitchenette, to find I was right, I’d left the hot water faucet on when I departed in my semi-panic!
I can usually find the right words without repeating myself to describe any of my frequent Whoopsiedangleplops or Calamaties, but I am struggling now.
Frustration, Depression, Pathetic Self-Pity, and Angst that is bigger than my bulging belly!
Then I spotted that the Catheter was not filling!
I quickly went back to check the wetroom for anything I’d missed, grabbed a 1-litre bottle of Soda water, and added a drop of grapefruit juice as my attention dwelt on this worrying Catheter faux-pas, with fears of bladder, kidney, and Catheter pains starting again. With no decent painkillers available other than Paracetamol. A darned good job tha Jenny read about this and gave me some. 🤎 Better than Paracetamol by a mile, but not as good as the ’ones the hospital gave me for my kidney problems. I found out they had stopped them permanently. There must have been a good reason. But will they restart the Codeines now? Not according to the Carer. Baffled, and in pain! Still, the Doctor may find time now that the Bank Holiday is over to reply to my three email requests for stronger painkillers, sent last week.  
Do I believe this? You decide!

Incidentally, my end-of-life cremation is paid for. I got it through Age UK years ago. I’ve got the details, and then when I snuff it, it won’t cost the Government or anyone to burn me.
Paid Funeral. Baguley brothers.
Prepaid with Age Concern. Now, Age UK No.15511624 
It may be advisable to warn the Obergruppenfürher at the cremation oven that my kidney and bladder may possibly explode in the heat and splatter them with my kidney germs. bacteria, viruses, and parasites. My poor battered bladder’s 
bacterial Escherichia coli.

I’d also appreciate it if someone could give my once-visited Neurologist a message for me, as sarcastically as they can, please: Give him my NHS Number, and say;
Inchie felt he just had to leave his thanks and appreciation for all the help, compassion, and concern you had not shown him during the one visit he made. You remember when he got lost on the way up in the lift? No? He’s not surprised. When you told him to send him a video of him having a seizure, so you could ascertain what type it was, before prescribing any medication. He agreed. This was in November 2025. You failed to give him your email address. He had several Carers ringing the QMC to find the right address. Finally, his Carer, Ejaz, got through, and a Carer took a video of the old, unwanted git in a seizure, and he emailed it to you. November 2025. In no time at all (April 2026), he got a letter from the committee that had seen and analysed the video. Telling him it was not an Epileptic seizure, as he told you at the 7-minute meeting he had with you, do you remember?
No, of course not. A busy, efficient young man like you must be in great demand.
He’d like to remind you, from wherever he’s gone, to be a burden to someone else; Do you recall me (Inchie) saying they were not epileptic fits, cause I was in the same position as I was before going into one?
Bless your compassion, patient care and dedication.
If possible, he will return with a 24-hour pass from St Peter so he can further explain, express how he feels about his treatment, and make some more suggestions.
A druid’s curse, or glam dichenn, was an ancient Celtic malediction. Druids were historically known to stand on one foot, place one hand on their head, and close one eye while chanting vengeance. Just mentioning this.
I’d appreciate that, thanks.
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Inchie: 24 May Sunday-Agony Catheter flowback, Ambulance, Nurses, 16 tries to get tube back in

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Meal Photo that reappeared on the SD!
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Today started at 00:00hrs, as it would, I suppose.
But at that time, I was battling with CorelDraw headers, and the irascible habit of CorelDraw 26 combined with Windows 11, causing frozen screens and programmes, turning itself off, and losing work done, repeatedly.
Irritating and annoying, I agree.
Then, as with the other mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morgana, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles; for the third time this year, the bladder, kidney & Catheter pains started. I checked the Catheter bag, I’d drunk 2 litres of spring water in the past 2 hours, and the urine bag was empty.
The pains grew stronger, especially in the kidney area.
Ah, a medical emergency, as the nurse said later, and I phoned the District Nurses. Got through on the second try and explained my problem. Initially, she asked if I had checked whether the tube wasn’t trapped. Adding: was it you who had this problem two weeks ago, and were the nurses fitted with another Catheter? “Yes, I did, and am”. She said she would ring for an ambulance. I pointed out the pain that I was in. And she decided to send a nurse to see me. I thanked her very much for this. 
As the last nurse suggested, to help ease the pain, try to keep active and concentrate on something before help arrives. Which I did. I saved the work, shut down the computer, and chose what I could do.
I got the mop and bucket, and mopped the kitchen floor. I think my concentrating on doing a good job actually helped me cope with the agony emanating from the blocked bladder & kidneys. The newer pains from using the mop & bucket, and bending seemed less than usual.
No nurse yet, so I wiped the inside of the fridge without dropping anything. I mention this, ’cause I’ve had both causing me endless bother lately. But now this time. 
I went to the wet room to clean the bucket and mop, and got my teggies cleaned at the same time.
On leaving the wet room, the intercom chimed; it was two nurses, a man and a lady. I let them in and awaited their arrival. A long, frustrating time lay ahead of them, but of course, we didn’t know this at the time. The nurse got me onto the bed (that sounds so appealing).
The pains varied over the next hour or so. The two nurses tried and failed to get the tube back into Little Inchy sixteen times. Each time, I had to wriggle my toes and cough nonstop. It didn’t look good. One nurse phoned their HQ. Afterwards, they asked me if I could get to the City Hospital, the Trent Cardiac Centre, Ward 2. This includes recently upgraded, state-of-the-art Catheter laboratories (Cath Labs) for cardiology, as well as specialised renal care, including dialysis. I told her I cannot go out on my own, in case I get a seizure. They exchanged dubious looks, and the man said, “We’ll try just once more.”  
Great! He got it into Little Inchy!
They fitted a new pouch, which later fell out during the day while Carer Ejaz was here, and he refitted it.
I got it with no pain from the Catheter afterwards.
Finally, at 0430hrs, I climbed into bed.
Ejaz arrived to wake me up at about 07:15 hours. Medicated me in bed. I was so tired. And departed.
I had to shortly climb out of the bed, in response to my innards gurgling, I made an imitation of making the bed
and limped to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne.

Took these snaps of the views on offer from the kitchenette window. A view straight ahead first, and then a photograph of the bottom field with the new flowers bursting through, buttercups and daisies. 🌷
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Watched some TV. A
Pre-recorded Heartbeat episode, and tried to do some blogging. The new computer seems less erratic today. So maybe best to put to sleep?
Ejaz reattached the problem Catheter for me. 🧡
Carer Mizra did the last call. Nice to see him. The moment he called, I felt pains in my tummy. The Catheter was not filling again. And I felt tired and drunk. Not good. But, thank heavens, these pains were bearable. I showed him the meal I’d prepared. He had a look at the Catheter; there were a few sparse, tiny spots of urine in the top tube, but not enough to create a flow, so I’ll guzzle extra water. 
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Had a frozen meal and added some spuds, and a spot of Tiryaki sauce on each (canned) potato. Running low on fresh food now. But it may prove to be a good job. Well, I think this is the right picture, but…
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A Memory…
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Sadly…
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Memory’s…
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Inchie: Saturday 23 May 2026 An even Worserer Day – Enough Already!

/ Inchie / 6 Comments


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Today was even more hectic.
Horrible, horrendous & for all the regular reasons.
The Computer… Corel Draw… causing the worst Depression I’ve ever had. Leaving taps running, dropping things. The wobbles and another tumble!
Within four minutes of getting up…
Stayed with me throughout the day, as more problems arose, with a mass of outstanding ones not yet sorted!
Two problems with the Bank – Showerless for two weeks.
The increase in Carer Charges per month is nearly £300.
Nothing sorted about the running out of Oxycodone medications. Or if I can still get them.
Computer man, away on holiday.
Can’t get to order food from 4 supermarkets, or Amazon.
The computer is losing signal on and off all day! Shutting itself down five times. When I open Google, I either get a different layout, giant patches, or… Yahoo open!
CorelDraw froze six times. When using CorelDraw, if I touch one of the other open icons below, CorelDraw just goes off…
Four Times it did this, and I lost the work I’d done, and had to start over again! The last time it did it, I’d just managed to save it first… Then it froze again!
A lousy day again!
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I got up at 04:00hrs, emptied the sparsely filled night pouch, and wobbled to the wet room for the first visit of the day to the Porcelain Throne. It needed an entire roll of wallpaper… No, toilet tissues, on the first and second visits, within five minutes of each other. I had three more trips to the Porcelain Throne in the afternoon. Not only can I not afford any tissues, but I also don’t know how to get them. Darned good job that I stocked up when I had the cash (before paying for the crap computer, and the Carer Fees nearly doubling), and when I could order food online with the old, but ‘Must-be-placed’ computer. I bet they are laughing at sucker me. Gullible? Yes, that’s the word.
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It is now 23:20hrs. And I’m getting painful flowback from the  Catheter and kidneys. Guzzling so much water, I feel intoxicated. No urine has got into the pouch for an hour ot more. Mu’s lower stomach is extended. I have no painkillers to take. I’ve been trying to beg the Carers to help. The first step is to email the Doctor. I did five days ago, and did not get a reply. I am struggling with the pain badly now, as it builds up the more water I drink in the hope of getting it flowing again. I’ll try to keep doing the blog, though. But it will not be good from here on. If I publish it unfinished, it’s because it might be my last one. Just been told by my EQ. No time to check it properly, just accepting Grammarly suggestions ot save time.

Good heavens, Grammarly has 28 errors to tell me of; I’ll just accept them. Such pain is building up. No urine in the pouch yet, oh, dear. Flipping ‘eck, 7 errors on the above two lines. I’ll get the photos on, and what I can from what I’d planned, but will end up calling 111, who are bound to send a nonexistent ambulance for me. Oh, the memories of my last visits are coming back to me. Please flow urine. I keep taking gulps of water, but no urine is being produced. Feeling drunk now. I’ll press on.
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Out of painkillers, just when I need them most.
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Morning sunshine
Now, on the computer, I cringed when I typed that!
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Internet down
More trouble.
Huh!
Froze for the umpteenth time!
,

Now I am suffering too much.
Still no urine passing.
Experiencing increasing pain,
I may have to ring 111,
First, I’ll try the District Nurses’ number.

TTFN

Inchie Today: Friday 22nd May 2026

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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No amazing happenings this morning.
I’d just typed this in the blog, and something happened that got me overly concerned. I received a letter about my Cather Pouch Reflux. This is it, copied from it.

Urinary tract infections(UTIs)
UTIs caused by using a Catheter are one of the most common types of infection that affect people staying in a hospital. This risk is particularly high if your Catheter is left in place continuously. (The Carers should change the day weekly, but rarely do & I forget to ask them).

Symptoms of a UTI associated with using a Catheter
Pain low down in your tummy or around your groin.
a high temperature, feeling hot, cold or confused. I am aware and have suffered these.
Contact your GP or community nurse if you think you have a UTI. You may need a course of antibiotics.

Other risks and side effects: Bladder spasms, which feel like stomach cramps, are quite common when you have a Catheter in your bladder. The pain is caused by the bladder trying to squeeze out the balloon. You may need medicine to reduce the frequency and intensity of the spasms. The Nurse told me there was nothing that could be done about the Catheter reflux when I asked her.
Leakage around the Catheter is another problem associated with indwelling catheters. This can happen as a result of bladder spasms or when you poo. Leakage can also indicate that the Catheter is blocked, so it’s essential to check that it’s draining. Yes, I’ve had this problem twice, each time we found the tube taken from the Catheter was blocked with black Goo! The nurse said they would ask the Doctor to prescribe antibiotics. But none came.
Blood or debris in the Catheter tube is also common with an indwelling Catheter. This could become a problem if the Catheter drainage system becomes blocked. Get medical advice as soon as possible if you think your Catheter may be blocked, or if you’re passing large pieces of debris or blood clots. See the blue printing above.

Other potential problems include:
Injury to the urethra (the tube that carries urine out of your body) when the Catheter is inserted.
A narrowing of the urethra because of scar tissue caused by repeated Catheter use.
Injury to the bladder caused by incorrectly inserting or not checking that the Catheter is working.
Bladder stones (although these usually only develop after years of using a Catheter). I didn’t see a mention of when the Catheter gets blocked. Any male with a fungal lesion on their whatsit will find urine shooting out of a tiny wound. It sprayed out so hard, it covered my 1963-built, falling-to-pieces Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off, the computer, my legs, feet, and the carpeting. I was sitting with a bucket between my legs for five hours, trying to catch some of the wee, waiting for the nurse to arrive again. Which was a lot better than the first time – I had to wait for five days!   

When a urinary Catheter stops draining, it is an urgent medical emergency. The primary dangers include severe abdominal pain, urine refluxing into the kidneys, kidney infections (Pyelonephritis), kidney damage, bladder rupture, and life-threatening bloodstream infections. Last time, a Plebotomy DVT nurse took an extra sample of blood, telling me it was for the Renal Unit. Mmm?

Key Dangers of a Non-Working Catheter
Urinary Retention: The bladder becomes rapidly overfilled and distended because urine is trapped in the body, which is highly painful. Pain 8/10.

Kidney Damage (Reflux): Because the bladder cannot empty, urine is forced backwards toward the kidneys. This can cause severe back pain and cause permanent renal damage over time. It did and does!
Sepsis (Urosepsis): Trapped urine quickly becomes a breeding ground for bacteria. If the infection enters the bloodstream, it can cause sepsis, a life-threatening medical emergency. Oh?
Bladder Spasms: Trapped urine or the blockage itself irritates the bladder, causing severe cramping spasms, pain 10/10. I know!
Catheter Bypassing: Pressure builds up and forces urine to leak around the outside of the Catheter tube, which can cause skin breakdown and discomfort. Yes, it did!

Warning Signs of Sepsis
Seek immediate, emergency medical attention (dial 999) if you or someone else has a blocked Catheter and experiences any of the following symptoms:

Confusion or extreme agitation, yes!
Very high or very low body temperature. Erm…
Breathing difficulties or shortness of breath. Oh, yes!
Nausea, vomiting, or extreme fatigue (tired me out)
Slurred speech or a weak pulse. Slurred speech!
 When a Catheter becomes blocked by debris or sediment (as it did for me), it traps urine in the bladder. Causes it to flow backwards into the kidneys.
This buildup creates a breeding ground for bacteria. The resulting pressure & infection can allow bacteria growth in the bloodstream, pain (10/10) & life-threatening sepsis.

In the NHS, a “lifetime” (long-term) urinary Catheter. When someone is experiencing flowbacks, it is usually changed at least every 4 weeks (more like 12 weeks!) to prevent blockages and infections. When a patient has vesicoureteric (renal) reflux, urine travels backwards from the bladder to the kidneys. Strict Catheter management is vital to protect the kidneys from damage.
I changed the colour of the comments I added above.
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Well, the time is running by, and I have been so busy… Yet again, dealing with the darned new computer and CorelDraw 26 problems, I just don’t know where the time has gone. Yes, I do. Wasted on a machine and programme that has left me with my lowest bank account for 50 years.
Already time for the third teatime caller.
I’m guessing, but I’m still struggling to work out where the time has gone. I do have a slight acidic taste in my chest and mouth. So, maybe I’ve had some seizures?
What the heck, not many photos taken, and I’m feeling suddenly drained, shag… tired.

Gonna try to have a sit-down, & hopefully a little kip.
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Morning view.

Leg burns a lot easier.

The above are the only photos I took that made it to the SD card. I recall taking several cloud shots, the new brush & dustpan as I cleaned up with it, and the evening meal. There must have been more, but I couldn’t access them.
I suppose it’s a part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again!
Chronic kidney disease (CKD)
mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate, hassle, annoy, gloat at, and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?

A Final Catheter Wearing Fact Discovery
In the UK, Catheter-related deaths are primarily caused by severe infections (Urosepsis – Kidney Failure), bladder trauma, or procedural complications.
Prolonged use of indwelling catheters significantly increases mortality risks, particularly in vulnerable or elderly patients (Great!), making routine maintenance and timely replacements essential.

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Inchie Today: Thursday May 21st 2026

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After returning to semi-consciousness, I lay there in a half-sleep mode for a good hour or more. My terrible memories from yesterday were playing, drumming away in my tormented mind. Had I known that the new, bafflingly confusing to an oldie like me, computer, MS Word, MS Snip, and the ever-playing-up Corel (Rotten) Draw were going to give me even more hassle and problems today, I may well not have bothered getting up again.
At one stage, I regretted doing so.
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At least the feet were far less swollen. It’s just the under-toe electric-like twangs that defeat everyone. Me included, naturally. Caring Carers Ejaz and Mizra, three different District Nurses, and even the window cleaner have each taken a look and can see nothing that may be causing the shocks. No marks, no reddening. Just yet another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Not to mention the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity of mind. Also, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Ménière’s disease, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Legs Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Iris, Cataract Katie, Sandra’s damned seizures, Back-Pain-Brenda, Arthur Itis, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Fractured Knee Frankie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Unwin’s Unguis Incarnates Ingrowing Toenail, Reflux Roger, Replacement Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine,  Hydrocephalus-Hilda, &  Toothache Tiffany. And my recently diagnosed TBI, Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD), which is causing Flowback-Agony with the Catheter-Contraption-Carol’s exit-tube being blocked.
The NHS sent me a note about this problem before it started happening: It read…
If your Catheter tube is blocked and not draining, it is a medical emergency. Immediately check that the tube is not kinked and the drainage bag is below your bladder. Do not attempt to flush the tube or remove it yourself unless specifically trained by your Doctor. There was a problem, the first time it happened, Carer Ejaz rang the District Nurses. Five days later, a nurse called.
The second time, I rang myself, and was not holding back on how painful it was. Two hours later, a nurse arrived. Got me on the bed (No, nothing like that. Hehe!), and decided to put a new contraption into Little Inchie with his bleeding, leaking urine through it as well, a fungal lesion. As she pulled out the tube and balloon, she showed me the black material blocking the tube. I asked whether it is likely to happen again. As you usually change the contraption about every four or five weeks, and did so a fortnight ago, why is it already blocked? Adding, can anything be done to prevent it, cause it was more painful than my heart operation was?
Not really, I have a few other older dears with the same problem. Well, that cheered me up a ton!
Still, yer don’t like to complain, do yer?
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I got carried away again there, sorry about that. It’s a combination of old age, senility, brain invaders, and depression, you know.
That’s my excuse.
Took these two snaps later in the morning. The clouds still held and showed me beauty. Why? Not sure?

My Angel Jenny told me what the flowers were called on the bushes out the front of the flats and near the tree copse. I miss walking through so much. Sad, innit?
I took this quick, zoomed-in shot of a lady with her baby and pet dog as they walked into the gap between the trees. I think I can still remember the smell in there. I miss it so much. Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer? Humph! Haha!

As I took these two photographs of the housing to the left of the kitchen window, I realised how few people were in the snaps. Also, the trees and bushes are coming back to full life, with growing greenery and a scent in the air. Then I passed wind and nobbled to the WC.
I emitted a lot of swishy, splattering multicoloured Trotsky Terence evacuation. I could not believe the range of colours it had in the basin.
Fair enough, I am colour-blind, I know, but I swear I could see reds, yellows, greens with streaks, similar to veins of a light blueish colour in the freshly released reminiscent of Irish stew, seeming to gurgle and wobble in the water.

Then the computer troubles started again. And did so all day. Some examples, unbelievable examples.
1: Throughout the day, until I’d had enough, Google lost connection four times, and I lost unsaved work every time.
The fancy Alien Font replaced a few of my typed words in the Gluten font. 2: Using the MS snip, and it froze as I selected the work to copy. Every programme used had this red outline box in front of the screen. 
3: MS Word fills the screen with gigantic buttons that leave little room to see the typing area.
4: On one Google opening, the Yahoo browser came on?
5: I got this message up again in a blank screen,
I’ve not the foggiest what it is all about, but then again, that in itself is not surprising to me, at least. This flipping whatever it is came up four more times?

Fed-up! But, I got fedderupperer later!
Just as I was taking the food from the slow cooker, to strain and serve it up… I managed with the greatest of ease, without any intent to have my right leg wobble, and dropped the hot Porcelain dish full of food, hitting my leg twice as it galloped on the way down, leaving this mess on the kitchenette floor.

They stung and left a little burning smell.
I had to leave the mess for the poor Carer to sort out, and rubbed some Germolene on the two tiny injuries. And waited for the last Carer call to arrive. I did get some plasters out in case they were considered to be of use by the Carer. An hour or so later, Carer Mizra arrived. He cleaned up my mess in the kitchen after giving me the medications. Helped me heat up the rearranged meal in the microwave and serve it.
Bless him. He had to rush off to his next call, which was difficult for the lad using buses.

I hobbled into the kitchen and washed the pots. Espying the lovely sky, which begged to be photographed.
So, I did.

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Inchie: A Messy Wednesday 20 May 2026

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Today consisted of various upsets, problems, bothers, frustrations, periods of depression, moments of pathetic, and self-annoying self-pity. A couple of moments, mainly when the damned new Windows 11 was confusing, or the new CorelDraw 26 play-ups and anti-Inchie activities took so long to work out how to proceed, and in some cases were skirted around, without the slightest hope of my remembering how I got through that particular problem. Of course, each and every one would return later.
I was regularly self-distracted, not coping, confused, panicky, incapable, unlucky; even bewildered at times.
There were a few times that I felt almost blas’e, as I decided there was no point in going on. Convinced things are getting worse, harder, more difficult each and every day.
All I did for the majority of the day was struggle with the computer and clear accidental wet-room problems.
I think I just moaned about my problems to each Carer, and felt guilty after each grumble about my miserable, ever-failing, mental and physical lifestyle. 
I just read the above. I felt bad for writing it. Sorry!
But I’m sure I’m getting rather pitiable. I wish the Doctor would recognise my problems.
Then again, if she were to, it would mean being referred to the suitable department in the NHS. Wait for an appointment, as with the neurologist who took six months. Then I was assured a lift had been arranged back, but told to cancel the appointment as they cannot do a lift there. So if I were to live long enough to get help, I’d have to sort help from the Carers to arrange a lift, get the money to hand to pay for it there and back, then get me dressed on the morning of the day.
No, sod-it, not worth the bother & hassle.
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I’d shout for help. Is there any point in going on about my deteriorating confidence, interest, and increasing depression, frustration and increasing ailments? I believe things started affecting me mentally after the fall revealed the TBI. Two of my Carers have kept me going, and a feeling of concern has been shown. But they are coming less often now. So many people are far worse off than I. Hence, the guilt returns. I’ve not been this low before. By this afternoon or tomorrow, things may perk up? 😂
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Just thought I’d mention them. Hehe!
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FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD
A FEAST OF FODDER IN STOCK NOW!
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WATER AS WELL
AND THE OVERUSED TOILET PAPER
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Inchie: Sunday 31st August 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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I’m worried about the Grim Reaper,
Not visited in August, now it’s September!
Has something changed his agender?
Last we met, he spoke of a nymph named Rusalka,
A female creature who seeks souls not after…
death, but before, & ferry them to Purgatory,
Each is an illegal immigrant soul-gatherer,
They come in dreams, offering virgins for a fiver,
The Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, Dziewona,
I’ve missed my designated soul-collector,
He was straight-talking, no verbal garniture,
For my last day, he promised me fresh golonkowa…
With sourdough bread & pickled cucumber,
I thought a moment ago that I could smell vinegar,
He said he’d get me in a cell with souls of kvetchers,
He guaranteed to keep me safe from Herr Starmer,
And his lies, bullying and moratoria…
I couldn’t have asked for better…
Me, a mentally-challenged failed rhymester,
When I die, decease, perish, & meet St Peter,
I leave this mortal coil, led by my Grim Reaper,
He will try to become my permanent Carer,
It’s love, I think, though it sounds macabre,
Gawd, I hope he wasn’t a leg-puller!
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She was still shaking when I stirred at 06:15 hours. (Another late one). That might teach me not to shoulder-charge the wetroom door frame… at least, not so often. I had to laugh at myself when I reached down to retrieve the nocturnal catheter bag for emptying – it showed I was still on edge from yesterday’s mishaps. I used my left hand to hold the shoulder in case she had loosened the joint with her overnight rattling and shudderings. Haha! Now, a laugh upon waking may be a sign that things will go better today. Mind you, look what happened to Hitler when he attacked Russia.

Very few photos and news on the blog today. I must try to at least complete yesterday’s blog. If I have the time, I need to complete the 30 templates for September. I know, not a cat-in-hells chance. But I must at least try.
Oh, no, just remembered I can use Jetpack, like I did last month. I did it in half the usual time. Now, if only I could remember how I did it. Never mind, there are still unknown challenges to come. Do I sound a smidgeon pessimistic? 
First kitchenette shot

Evacuation Conrad Constipation Controlled.

Carer Nimra. Body Check. 
Some new blood-filled swelling was spotted.
They were not painful, but Nimta called the Community Nurses. They will send someone to inspect the area. Later decided Monday, not today. This will be no problem.

Amazingly, I completed the templates in record time, despite dealing with numbers.

Morning snap

Seizures are getting frequent. I spent ages in repeated recovery times, doing nothing.

Afternoon…
cloud…
photos.

Hours & hours doing blogs.

TTFN

Inchies: Wednesday-Worriments 25th June 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Or, rather, me forgetting to close it!
This morning, my mind seemed less peripatetic,
Carer Ejaz turned into almost a medic,
Body check, acne & eczema, medications next,
Got a bowl of water to wash, then dried my feet,
It was difficult getting about…
The toes felt as if I had gout,
On the computer, the door chime rang out,
Just, I was emptying the catheter pouch,
Walked in agony, to see who it was…
Window cleaner, to give them a wash,
I explained that I wasn’t feeling up to much,
I said no thanks, & locked him out,
Got back and started the blog layout,
Ten minutes later, or thereabouts,
I felt warm wee-wee coming from the pouch,
As I stood up, the carpet made a squealch…
I’d left the valve open; I went into a panic,
Spent an hour drying it, where I could reach,
The computer? I had to log out…
As I bent to soak the carpet… Ouch!
I banged my head on the corner of the couch!
Carer Joe arrived, and I was very confused,
He took the laundry, and I got more bemused,
Tried to log on with the bank, it refused…
I tried to get it going, things were adjusted,
Our efforts to log in were busted…
Password & log-in, each stayed unaccepted,
Now seizure & Anne Gyna started,
I was getting most aggravated,
Faux pas & frustrations got me agitated,
Then the Physio chap arrived,
Just as I was coming back out of a mini seizure,
I told him of my Accifauxpa & the wet Axminster,
And went back into a partial seizure…
A total blank, the next half-hour,
I think I lost a bit of willpower,
Anne Gyna returned with mental confusion,
Carer Joe updated me on the missed action,
I had trouble remaining focused,
The computer froze, & I became a fatalist…
Turned off the computer, I’d never felt frumpier!
Constantly being got at by Anne Gyna,
My curses and oaths were at their foulest,
Carer Joe called, and I found sudden joyfulness,
Joe moved a plug, Google back on in 2 ticks,
I could have kissed him on his cheeks!
He’d made me a momentary rapturist,
Ridden with bad luck, short of spondulicks,
Worried if the seizures are classed as fits,
My resolution was at its squalidest,
Anne Gyna, Toothache Tiffany & sidekicks,
Depression, frustration put on my shitlist,
Today was my testiest, traumatised & tetchiest,
Made a meal, midnight well past…
Things I couldn’t find, or had lost…
Sharp knife, TV remote, and wristwatch…
Banking details, AA batteries for the clock,
I still can’t get my foot into a slipper or sock…
I’ll always be a failure and a solecist!
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A miserable day, as revealed by the Ode above.
A chaotic schedule. Seizure and error-ridden.
Along with the frustration and depression, I had Anne Gyna back on form. Any one of the Accifauxpas would have been more than enough for me.
The seizure, when the man from the NHS Health and Safety came, was almost a blank. But I saw that he had fitted a cushion to the computer chair for me. Thank you! This is the first time I had a seizure when two people were present. Hope I didn’t drop any clangers or say the wrong thing. 🤞🏻

I managed to take a few photos.

On waking. Looking better

Early morning

Later in the day.
The feet began to swell.

Very late at night.

Tried to watch some recorded Heartbeat programmes. But got confused or went wrong. It didn’t help me fall asleep and made me feel disoriented each time I struggled and failed to exit the pre-recorded section. Humph! 
I gave up anticipating I’d nod off immediately.
But, no!
From nowhere, he got stuck in my mind with guilt-trips, shame, patheticness, depression, frustrations and all from years ago, at first anyway.
I clearly recall writing notes which I’m using now.
His digs were getting too close to the present time. This indicated how I am now struggling with everyday, simple daily tasks. It hit home! I think I forced myself awake. (Maybe not?)

Only to have a visit from He’s still with me, on and off this morning.
Life is becoming an albatross around my neck. I’ve never used that phrase before. It fits, though.
Gawd, I’m feeling low! But, thanks to Doctor Vindla, I’ve got my appointment to see a neurologist at the QMC. Unfortunately, it is for November! 
Hey-Ho!

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May the Force Be With You
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 13th May 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Inchy: Sunday 11th May 2025

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

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

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

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFNski!
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