Roger Reflux Valve

Inchie Today: Friday 22nd May 2026

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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

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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

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Very few photos were taken. Oh, dearie me

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

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

Honestly, I can’t recall taking these incredible clouds

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

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

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

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

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

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

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 3rd May 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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– – Or summat like that – –
<<<>>><<<>>>
What controls one’s advertences?
Without them, you’ve mental curtains,
Which blocks your observations,
Lose your morals and convictions,
Dreams, inspirations and motivations,
You may select the wrong adorations,
Bringing on unwanted altercations,
Also, financial complications,
Getting interest rate reductions?
Do you doze off during meditations?
Do you struggle with DIY contraptions?
Why not consult enchiridions?
Do you use too many idioms?
Do you get drawn into fixations,
Understand your own contemplations?
Do you have naughty inclinations?
Do you mix with Oligarchs or patricians?
Comfortable amidst the proletarians?
How rarely do we question the criterions,
Not all criteria of verifications…
These can be classed as desideratums,
It’s vital to carry out investigations,
And done with great intentness’s,
Their objectives, ambitions, & intentions,
Find out their aim with negotiations,
Tell them it with confabulations,
Or conversations or consultations,
Don’t use the word investigations!
After scrutinisations, & observations,
Re your resulting appraisements…
No ballpark figures or approximations,
Declarations, not propositions,
Release only certitudes, positive decisions,
Analyse your ascertainments,
Then, create new recommendations,
Plainly, this is mostly theorisations…
I am not surprised I get mental altercations!
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I fell asleep last night in the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Woke up several times overnight, but far less than when I was in the hospital bed. Around 04:30hrs, I woke again and decided to get up and catch up early on the blog. The mind was willing enough, but the body sort of said to me, ‘Sod off!’ Several times. I could not get back to sleep; a few bouts of eye-drooping were the best I could achieve. I lurched from the recliner, noticing the time was 06:20 hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag, and plans changed when I got up and started the gentle morning balance exercises. The wind erupted from my hindquarters; long, loud, noisily, and aromatically contaminated the room. Off to the wet room, I trudged. By the time I got there and sat down on the Porcelain Throne, the agony from my toes was as painful as it had ever been! Only Anne Gyna and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion are that bad. I thought they hurt a lot when they were cut yesterday. £35 I had to pay for this torture session, too! Haha! To rub it in, I had to clean up endless toenail clippings when the Carer spotted them later on the carpet.
I did not wash or shave, but did I rinse the teggies? I put it down to the pain I’d got and had all day every time I had to stand up and or walk. I unlocked the door as I exited the room so the Carer could get in later. My getting up late annoysed me. My plan to catch up on the blog was in ruins. The new four-wheeled walker attracted my attention, and I tried again to get the loose right handlebar stiffened. I failed, of course. 

Carer Ejaz arrived. He made me proud this morning. He assessed the urine rating, issued medications, and then changed my catheter bag. Next, he did a full-body check for new wounds or bruises. New spots on my leg and another bruise on my back were found. He then ointmentated both ankle lesions and legs with barrier cream under the men’s breasts, arms, and in the crutch near the catheter tube. I reckon that the right Lymphorrhoea Leslie’s lower leg, which had been bleeding overnight, had dried up well enough and was reduced in size. But things with Leslie change day by day.

I went out on the balcony to take two shots. That rain we had earlier leaked onto the car park’s end. But we still need more rain here. It’s unnatural that so little rain is falling. 
A skyward shot next. What beautiful cloud formations we get. Always differing.

At long last, I got on the computer to update and post the Friday blog on WordPress. It took me hours, but still.

Midday Carer. He took a look at the new walker handgrips for me. I turned the gripper, and it came loose! This could bode unwell!
The skies were even more interesting.
The top shot was to the left of the kitchenette window. The bottom one to the right.
You wouldn’t think they were the same sky.

As the day progressed, the pain from the ingrowing toenails worsened. Walking at times required two sticks; the pain from both nails was so bad. I decided to try to get a bowl with disinfectant in the water, to wash my feet. Getting the bowl filled and into the room near the recliner was a struggle. Dettol was added, and a towel was taken in. But I could not get the diabetic socks off until the Carer arrived.

The Carer came on the last visit and timed it perfectly, and the water was still hot enough.
She removed the socks, and I got my feet in the water.
After two minutes in the bowl, she fretted about being late for her next call. She dried the feet with kitchen towels and kindly applied some barrier cream to Lymphoedema Leslie’s thick, cracked skin on both ankles. Bless her. Cleaning up after was a struggle because, as usual, the toenails sting for a while after doing the feet. Getting off to sleep took me ages, and I was also tired.
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Evening All!
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Inchy Today: Thursday 1st May 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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

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

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

Finished in the wet room.

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

After noon snaps.
Front car park.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Have a great day, each!
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Inchy: Monday 14th April 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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THE HAZE/HASH OF OUR HMG!
I faced adversity catastrophes, indomitably,
Searching for success, I found extinction,
Been shot, heart attack & bankruptcy,
Recognised politicians showed prevarication,
They rule unreliably and lyingly…
Take backhanders with pretension,
Reliable? Each one is a proletariat’s liability,
Growing their wealth in HMG’s pantheon!
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Starmer lines his pockets, carefreely,
Lie, steal from pensioners, Scot-freely!
Prices are rising for food, gas & electricity,
Keir does it all so perfunctorily, blasély,
Surely, he’s an under-the-bed Tory?
His price rises show his peccability,
The voters he scoffs at dismissively,
Proletariats get poverty and penury!
>>>>><<<<<
Who voted for him, primarily plebian…
Realise now, it shouldn’t have been,
He’s mendacious, criminal, immoral & mean!
Keir’s term in office: a trial by ordalian,
Starmer got 3m votes, fewer than Corbyn,
Still enough to give him a win,
That was due to the Tory’s suiciding,
Citizens’ fears are accumulating!
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His lies, there’s not been an investigation,
He shows no signs of any opprobrium,
A man of obfuscation and deception,
No prosecution, just mystification…
Civil Service & HMG are both crooked,
Their guilt, either hidden or resolved,
Most of what they’ve done, I anticipated,
Starmer should be sacked & becudgelled!
>>>>><<<<<
He claims to be a necessitarian,
I think that he’s Machiavellian!
Ill-conceived, ill-advised, & misbegotten,
There’s no hope, no pharma-conation,
As he strangles voters of the Nation,
I’m not saying he’s a pigwidgeon…
Nor a patrician, but a man on a mission,
To take backhanders & make commission!
>>>>><<<<<
He’s worthy of, and gets my derision,
Mayhap the Lord’s resurrection…
Along with our citizens quiritation…
Can bring about, Starmer’s retrogression,
Force him into his own rescission?
Free us of Keir, the self-rhetorician?
Give him a thorough scrutinisation,
But of course, this will not happen!
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
CATCH UP
Owing to my plans to get a wash and sit-down when the fatigure-fell yesterday teatime, I got nowt done on the computer again for the rest of the night.
I thought I’d fall asleep and get a few hours in before the last Carer’s call, then restart doing the blog.

Instead, I had God knows how many mini-seizures but no actual sleep. Three hours later, Carer Ahmed arrived. Said I was, sitting there mumbling to myself and breathing heavily, with my eyes open. Once I got up, I felt so drained. I nearly fell back down again. But Ahmed was as quick as a flash and stopped me from plumping back into the 1966, £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.
He got my diabetic socks off my feet, issued the medications and checked the taps and oven for me. After the lad left, 
I went to the kitchen to make a meal. Boy, was I tired out and drained.
I took these fantastic puffer cloud shots.

Minced beef with black beans.
Some seasoned unskinned chips.
Lovely!
A cornet of ice cream afterwards. I’d made
too much again. Well, not much!
But at least I didn’t spill any.
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How can one be so drained and tired but not get to sleep? Horrible night. Forever jumping awake within minutes of the odd nodding off’s that I got.
I gave up and got up at 05:00hrs.
Sorted the waste bins. Then the big task began.
What a session. There is no other word for it. Great!
A cutless shave, absences of , , , & . I’ll add  because she did not kick off until later.

The medicationalising was not too bad, but no worse than of late. Until, of course, it came to the last task, ointmentating and rubbing it in poor suffering . I creamed where I could reach of the ribs & backs  . Again, I could not get those on my back. I’ll ask the Carer if he can help when he arrives. At least I have a good stock of new barrier cream in the drawer. 
I must have taken longer than I thought on these tasks. As I got the PPS on without much of a struggle, I’d like to add, and was getting the Kagoule on, the Carer Ahmed arrived.

Ahmed was on good form this morning. Medications were issued, and my diabetic socks were fitted. 
He then applied barrier cream to my back and ribs, using the last of the old tubes of Derma Cream. Achmed liked doing this job and was good at it. He then sprayed the glaucoma spray on my eyes for me. I’ll call him Dr. Ahmed from now on. Hehehe! He asked for another local accent word, and I gave him ‘Kip’ for a sleep or nap. I’ve given one a day for a few days. The first was ‘Tara” for cheerio. He said he had used it with other clients this morning, and they loved it. Hearing that cheered me up. Yesterday, it was ‘Aye-Up.’ I think the other one was ‘Midduck’. No, that one’s for tomorrow.

Ahmed took a photo of me with a Kodak-Tim-1.
He’d drawn the curtains, knowing how the sunlight affects Glaucoma Gladys.
He thought I looked like a Mafia Boss. Haha!

I grafted away on the Ode making and got it finished.
Then, I updated and posted the Sunday blog. During the morning, I took these snaps from the kitchen.
The shadows from the rising sun from the back of the flats made some of them enjoyable.
The painted houses. If not, I might not see them.
My block of flats’ shadow in this one.
Took later.

Carer “Joe” arrived. He did a grand job of helping again, bless him. He rang the surgery to see if I could get an appointment for any Wednesday, his more extended visit laundry day. 3rd on the waiting list. Got through and he tried his best, but the earliest Wednesday might be 4 weeks wait, and he wasn’t sure if the Doctor could fit it in for the times that Joe was here. Chances were getting dimmer. I suggested that perhaps she could give me a call at home. Yes, but not on a Wednesday. I ended up with her ringing on Monday the 28th between 10 & 11:45hrs. In 14 days. Going well for the NHS, innit? We had to agree; there was no other choice, had we?

Computing was going very slow today.

Carer “Joe” returned to the first evening call. Again, he helped out no end. He called the chemist and arranged for the medications to be sent to his company’s chemist for collection. I’m lost with all these changes. Thank heavens for Carer “Joe”!

It’s already 20:00hrs gone. I’ll make a meal and try to catch up in the morning.

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Fare Thee All Well!
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