Shuddering Shoulder Shirley – Page 11

Inchy: Wednesday 30th October 2024

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I don’t want anyone to think I’m jealous of their wealth & power. Or that could gladly assassinate the pensioner-killer Starmer for his heartless crippling and murdering pensioners by taking away their winter fuel allowance. Or his lying by omission to get elected. Or, his taking back-handers worth hundreds of thousands of pounds. His bland, conceited, self-wealth improving, voter-contempt, but I am.
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After yet another night of jumping awake, at 05:00, I gave up trying for the elusive sleep, and I gingerly removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, grabbed a hold of and off to the kitchen for safety checks and got the kettle on. The taps, cooker and fridge looked okay, and I had what must have been one of the longest-ever bubbly-sounding passings of wind that I can ever remember. It was pongy and two-tone at times! I diverted to the wet room without any delay.
I got seated, but nothing more than wind came out for ages. Once the motion began, I thought that would never end!
It was like wet mud to look at in the bowl. This time, it was three-coloured: black spots with light and dark brown.

Cleaning it up took me years. I managed to knock over, and he fell against the floor cabinet. I then had one less bottle of the Glaucoma Latanoprost eye drops; the cap shot off.

MAYHEM – POWER CUTS
At this stage of writing this, I had a power cut! I lost all my notes and reminders, but I did get some photos, and such mayhem and panic have not hit me so badly in ages.
I was stuck in total darkness; it was late evening then.
The notes from earlier in the day were found, but not the late ones that were on Word, which got lost in a total of four Poer-Cuts suffered over a three-hour period.
Obviously, I could not do any blogging or emailing anything on the computer until Thursday morning. (Now)

POWER-CUT DISASTER STORIES
1️⃣ I was cooking the meal. Sudden darkness, absolute darkness. Panic gripped me. I searched for the mobile and wind-up torch. At that time, I could not find the torch. So, had to use the light of the mobile to get around. My intention was to make sure the cooker had been turned off. Then I realised that things were worse than I thought. The battery on the mobile was weakening, and I needed it to call for help because the Alarm Alert line & landlines were not working. I rang the preciously kind Jenny to ask for advice on getting help. I didn’t know the numbers to ring. Jenny, being Jenny, bless her, said she would come up to have a look. She’d just got out of the shower. I felt embarrassed.

2️⃣ Jenny came in; I didn’t hear her, and she did something on the power box, and the power came back on. I told her what I was doing, and she spoke with someone on the back-on-line emergency alert line again. She turned off the cooker at the box. Told me not to use it until it’s been checked over. She
said, ‘I’m was to ring her in ten minutes to update her on the situation’. I’d be lost without Jenny.

3️⃣ Ten minutes later, the power went off again. This time, I was again in the kitchen, and as it was dark, I turned to get the stick, tripped on something, and fell, hitting my face on the radiator. Jenny returned again. She reset the power and asked if I’d used the cooker, which I hadn’t. The power was now restored by Jenny, and the telephones & alarm came back on. Jenny spoke with them again. Jenny reminded me not to use the cooker, but I could use the microwave.

4️⃣ I started to sort out a different meal that could be cooked in the microwave, and the Power died again! Jenny came to the rescue once more! She restored the power supply yet again and told me she would report things to the authorities for me in the morning. If it does go off again, I was to ring her. Reminding me not to use the kettle or cooker.

Thankfully, the power stayed on, and I finished the oddly cooked beef in black bean sauce. Cleaned up the kitchen and settled to eat the meal, watching ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. Thinking about how things would have gone without Jenny’s help. Precious, inestimable, & helpful. ♥

The following may be out of order, with part of the reminders lost in the power cuts, but these things did occur. I think.

Carers Shaquille, Israel & Kimberly called. Kimberly helped me get an appointment with the doctor and the Chemist for the flu jab sorted for me. Flu Tuesday 5th Nov, and the RSC at the surgery Monday 11th Nov, in Carrington.

Yesterday, during the power failures, I lost every photograph I had previously taken and saved to file. Arghh!

Shortest blog ever on file!
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THE STATE OF INCHY

And also, I can’t use my cooker or kettle,
I still can’t manually pittle,
Electric shocks up my leg, still tingle,
The catheter tube is so painful!
My lack of sleep is diabolical,
My memory gets more fragmental,
Waiting for Glaucoma lasering at the Hospital,
Life is no longer worth being experimental,
The hot tap runs at barely a trickle,
Plans, wants & needs are theoretical,
Thoughts, hopes are unphilosophical,
Like this ode, there are unpoetical,
I’m verging on becoming pathetical,
My dreams are all sarcophagal,
Getting on my rear-end a carbuncle!
My concentration, once congenital,
It is now non-existent, gone, choplogical,
Depressions, fears, worries, self-inimical,
Mentally, life is a scramble, a scrattle…
With myself, every day, I battle,
I once socialised, now I feel extrinsical.
Life’s become eristical & demagogical!
Now, with cock-up, & outages electrical,
No kettle or stove, it ruins things gastronomical,
I need someone clever, kind, & intellectual…
A Doctor who deals with things lunatical?
To read this Poesy or Limerick,
About me being physically & mentally sick,
Use their skills of the neuropsychologic,
They may advise summat neuroradiologic?
Issue medications that may do the trick,
With mayhap periwinkle & phenobarbital,
Or operate on my sincipital?
If it was all a film, it would be tragicomical,
But, primarily pointless and illogical!.
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TTFNski!

Twitchy Inchy: Monday 28th October 2024

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Are your thoughts often erratic?
Are your underpants made of plastic?
Are, were you ever a Eurosceptic?
Potassium permanganate is an antiseptic!
Should you learn & speak Esperantic?
What makes you feel ecstatic?
Why do you take drugs to be sadomasochistic?
Do you ever get over-emotionalistic?
What Jamaican food is escoveitch?
What’d you do if you became rich?
Are your knees & cartilage rheumatic?
Do you know the word, ochlophobic?
Have you dreamed of being omnific?
Personally, I think that would be terrific!
I’d get my Glaucoma fixed at the clinic!
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Regretfully, the computer did not let me save many pictures today. I have not recorded my thoughts here to avoid being prosecuted for blogging them, as they were unacceptable for publication.
Cragnangles!

I stirred back into semi-life in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I’d not made it into the bed, the carer came later than usual, and I was too tired to bother with climbing into bed with all the risk involved; the catheter possibly leaking and my getting the clothes off. So I stayed in the chair. But could I get to sleep? Well, yes, actually, and I did dozens of times. But I was waking up with a jump, sometimes accompanied by an shock up my right leg. I was waking up so often so often. I gave up on the silly thought and expectation of getting any sleep and got up around 04:00hrs. The first thing I noticed as the brain fog cleared was the scary colour of the urine in the catheter bag as I removed it from the day pouch. I took a cracking snap of it, and it came out the exact same colour & hue as my eyes saw it. That might get me some sympathy, I thought. But, no!
Much later, after the usual morning farces had been completed, the computer was not letting me save many pictures of graphics. It arbitrarily allowed a few to be saved, but the others it refused and removed the ones of the same name I was attempting to save them as! I had neither the willpower nor the urge to make them all again, for fear that it may be the same next time I tried. It was soul-destroying!

I got on the computer and had to go through the memory-saving farce repeatedly. And with having to sign back in on every site, I lost endless time, many hours spent finding the passwords to do so. My memory lets me down every single day. Blasted Dementia Doreen, & the computer are to blame, not me. Huh!

Carer Richard arrived. He gives me advice, but my ability to do what is told is limited. The lad brought up my laundry bag, which he spotted on his way up. Bless him. The slipper I’d filled with wee-wee yesterday was returned, a child’s camouflaged face mask, an odd brown sock (not mine), and a broken, damp Smarties tube in the bag. One of the dressing gown waist belts was knotted in three places, and all the sleeves were inside out. But things like this are 🎵’Not unusual’🎵, as Tom Jones sang. Hehe!

After Richard had left, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose, and I hastened to the wet room. I sat down in time today, avoiding a third day of embarrassment by not making it in time! Trotsky Terence ruled again, as I knew he would by the rumbling and almost squelching from the innards.
But this time, soft chunks of… a browny-green colour! Ooher! What next?

SUPRISE FRACAS ONE
I was getting increasingly frustrated with the computer and went to the kitchen to do the safety checks. During last night’s cooking, I discovered that I’d left the slow cooker turned on for about 18 hours without realising because there was nothing in it. Well, there are now cracks in the pottery bowl! At least one bit of luck helped ease things. Yes! The fire alarm did not go off again as I ran water on the bowl in the sink, and steam filled the kitchen. No new burns, either!

I cleaned the mess up and went back to the computer. I went through the cleaning routine. After the rigmarole was completed for the third time today, it let me save photos of it its own choice but not others. I’m fed up! Here they are. I snapped these first thing this morning. But didn’t do such an excellent job of them as I’d hoped to this time. Then again, I’m not surprised, I suppose, not to be honest.
I was a smidge dispirited.

The photo I’d taken of the returned slipper was saved and used. Oh, I’d better check that they haven’t fallen off the towel trickle heater. They’ve
all dried now, last night’s pee’d on tartan-coloured slipper I put in the laundry bag.
I can’t believe all the messes I get into nowadays.

SUPRISE FRACASES

Over seven days, I’ve had three tumbles, walked into the same doorframe three times and spent an estimated 32 extra hours on the computer trying & failing to sort out the memory. I also had two embarrassing accidents not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time. Oh, no, it was three. Thanks to Terence Trotsky! I’ve burnt two meals and saucepans, making messes to clean up. I left the slow cooker on for god knows how long, setting the fire alarm off. I left the hot water tap to run cold three times; luckily, the plug was not in the sink each time, so there were no floods.

As my cyber buddy Tim suggested, I’ve bought a stand-alone hard drive, but by some miracle, no one in the flats can or is willing to help me set it up for me. It could be the answer… maybe to the problem. But with my eyesight and memory, I dare not try to do it alone. I fear I could well make things worse and kill the computer.

A little after 16:00hrs, I typed away on this blog, and two screens appeared.
Not the foggiest what they were about.
I’m getting to the point of no return, I think.

Carer Kelvin called. Pointed out my nose was bleeding.
Medicated, he listened to my woes of the day. That was nice of him. He emptied the catheter-content jug for me and checked the kitchen stove and taps.

I finished here and got the bacon cooking for tonight’s meal. First, I’ll cut off the ginormous fat on it, then put it in the oven. I must remember it’s in there. I’ll use the buzzer timer, which might wake me if I fall asleep. Hehe!
I will be back in the morning to update you. Lamb burgers again, and I cooked them a lot longer today; they tasted lovely. I’ve got a food order coming in the morning.

My robotically-minded computer prevented the meal’s two photos from being saved. Humph! I’ll try to get up early to attend to the complete ablution work.

Fare Thee All Well!

Inefficiency Inchy: Friday 25th October 2024

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That Starmer gave me back the money he’d stole,
To pay for, to fill in the Tories black hole,
Proving he’s a greedy, uncaring arsehole,
He eats pheasant & bison; for me, a rissole!
I went to get my Omeprazole,
To get them down my food whole,
In the box, £20 notes, quadruple!
Had Keir decided to repay me?
Mayhap he felt a smidgen guilty?
No, that can’t be; he has no pity…
I had a surge in my memory,
I put them in the box for an emergency.
That was back around 1973…
They don’t look like the new ones, see!
Would they be any good to me?
A man who cannot manually wee…
Who’s on his way to going potty!
I planned his ode; now it’s plot-free!
Gone into the ether – Oh, dearie me!
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I took another pasting from the computer today. I spent more time cleaning, closing, and rebooting it than using it! It still refuses to save some snaps and graphics, whatever I do. Now, when it refuses to save, it takes off many photos I was trying to save with an old name and refuses to save anything with a new number or name. I was using it from the previous time. I can’t believe the mess I’ve gotten myself into with it!
Grumph, Gnash & Gnangles!

Up late today, 06:35hrs.
Took off the nocturnal catheter bag while I was still on the bed.
A better colour, though. Carer Chris classed it as a four.

I went to do the safety checks in the wet room and kitchenette.
The view was clear after so much fog that I snapped it.
Later, the fog fell, but the computer stoically refused to save the photo of the fog to go on WordPress. I tried saving another one with a new name, but that was impossible all day! (Up to now, 15:00hrs.) Grrr!

I decided I might just get the ablutions done before the first Caregiver arrived, but I dared not use the shower, as it was still a bit early and may disturb the other tenants. Before I could get the things ready, Caregiver Christopher arrived.
Chris sorted the medications, got a telephone call and went to the balcony to answer it. Cor, the cold blew up my legs and my not-underpanted lower regions. Brr! Hehehe!
I nearly asked him to put the diabetic socks on but decided against it, as I intended to get back to doing the ablutions. Chris said he would call back later and put them on for me.

It all went flowingly with the stand-up wash and shaving. Only one teeny-weeny cut shaving. No teeth or gums bleeding.
And I seemed to get a crack on with it and sing to myself, too! Yes! As I recall, Elvis, Billy Fury, Rick Nelson, and Adam Faith songs—well, the words as best I could remember of them.
However, the evacuation on my Porcelain Thrones was again a super-messy affair. It was still a three-tone colourisation as it had been for the last three days.
Blacks, dark browns and yellows.
Even the cleaning up seemed to take less time this morning. I feared I may break out in a feeling of semi-contentment.

I spent hours and hours getting not very far with the blog. Updating yesterday went smoothly, and the computer let me save the two belated graphics I needed.
I was worried about that!.
That was the limit of its compassion! I got fed up with taking shots of the fog and being unable to use them, so not many new photos made it to Inchy Today.

The ode for today was just not flowing, so I added a bit of humour to it. Strewth, Christopher’s midday call arrived as if I’d just blinked from when he came earlier. The lad got the painkillers given to me and put on the thicker, longer diabetic socks for me. Ah, that’s warmer now! I was going to take a photo of the socks to show you how thick and long they are, but my confidence from earlier had been shattered.

I took another snap of the misty view. Then I cut up and seasoned the potatoes and put them in an oven tray, ready for when the oven heated up enough.

Then, I tried again to get these two photos, this time on CorelDraw and into this blog. It took a few tries, and I had to save somewhere else. I couldn’t remember for ages where I’d saved them, but I did get them on belatedly. Then it let me save the snap of Caregiver Christopher. When he was on the balcony on his phone, I could not hear what was being said.
Cunning and bothering!

I took this one earlier, and this time, it was saved!

Computers (well, this one certainly is) are one of the banes of my life!

This is a mystery photo.
Obviously, it was taken in error. I assume I don’t know what, where, or why I took it. Is it unlikely that some clever person reading this can trigger my mind?

Ah, the potatoes can go in the oven now.
I’ve got 35 minutes to get the computer cleaned.

Incidentally… CorelDraw Did Not Crash today!
There’s a first over the last 4 days.
This worries about what it will do tomorrow!

I ate more biscuits today than I ever have before. I blame the hassle of the computer getting at me more and more! I think my gobbling all those cookies (naughty, I know) ruined the taste of the meal. It looked and smelt good, but it tasted the same as the cookies. Hehe!

Carer Chris did the last visit for me. Painkillers were issued, the diabetic socks removed, and off he trotted on his way back to his wife and son, Gideon.

It was another horrible night. I woke up in pain so often that I gave up and got up around 04:10hrs. I needed the Porcelain Throne urgently. Only just made it in time!
I wonder if the meal was out of date?

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TTFN

Affluentless Inchy: Thursday 24th October 2024

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I woke at about 06:24,
Little Inchie was still sore.
Urine colour a number four,
WC is needed; that’s for sure…
On the Throne, liquid did pour…
A messier mess; upon the floor,
And my belly looked ampler!

Bother from Toothache Tiffany,
Cartilage pain in each knee,
Took a photo, & made the tea,
Spilt the milk, dearie me!
Minutes late back on the WC!
Hit my shoulder on the door frame – I gave it an apology!
Inadequate responses from my memory,

My perception was not at its keenest,
The computer was at its absurdest…
Whatever I tried, attempted or pressed,
The damned machine soon got me so depressed,
I didn’t know what to do for the best…

I repeatedly tried Norton and the Ccleaners,
Run them, close all down, restart… no go, oh, bejesus!
The analyser failed and worsened my ailments & derivatives,
Launching moments of non-stop depression,
Spent little time creating and more on correcting,
But mostly, I spent more time failing…
No point in photographing or graphicalising,
I spent ages preparing and hoping…
On creating this so far, pictureless blogging!

No confidence; I feel like a circumforanean…
I swear I’m cursed with and by a cacodemon!
Carer Christopher issued the morning medication,
I didn’t sulk, but it was a temptation,
Today’s confusion, indecision, & apprehension,
Indicated that insanity was a possible option!
Life’s a hotchpotch, thought, a motley collection,
Most of my ideas seem to have no connection…
I’m still up for socialising and adoption,
It’s from Doreen Dementia that I need protection!

Carers Chloe & Kara came calling,
Kara explained to Chloe my financialisationing,
So next week, Chloe can sort out the banking,
All done in ten minutes, amazing!
Of course, I’ll not be remembering!

I had another go at grapicalisationing,
Tried to save it for WordPressing,
But not all of the photographing,
Gawd’s truth, some went in!
Those above, I tried to save more, praying…
But CorelDraw started crashing!
I turned it all off, restarted it, again got it going,
But the bloody pictures were again not saving!
Two hours to again use Norton and Ccleaning!

I took two shots from the kitchen window,
The clouds were so beautiful and low,
To the left and right, in auto,
Earlier ones I’d taken still would not go,
Into the file or WordPress, though!
I swore a bit in Fortissimo!

MEAL MADE
Royal Anya potatoes & chicken,
Beetroot, tomatoes, not forgetting…
Yoghourt, a tasty curd, lemon!

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TTFN
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Abstinency Inchy: Wednesday 23rd October 2024

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‘Now look mush’, I uttered…
I know when my bread’s buttered,
No wonder I can see only the one gate,
Because it was hell on earth, mate!
Born to poverty, what a state!
Miserable, I died broke & intestate!
Bad eyesight, cancer pancreate.
Catheter, Peripheral neuropathy,
Mental & physical inadequacy,
Got shot twice, the leg and chest,
Born with nothing, I’ve got most of it left!
I grew floppy, womanlike breasts,
No help at my begging or behest!
Ended up losing loves like Audrey…
Grizelda, Marie, Christine & Suzie,
Am I pissed off? Absobloodylutely!
Send me back again? There’ll be some argie-bargie!
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I’d fallen asleep in the £300 second-hand shop-purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. The broken, ever-wakening sleep was no worse or better than struggling to get in and out of bed. I must have had ten bad nights on the trot now. Talking of trot, my first aim of the day was to get to the Porcelain Throne ASAP. The rumbling and grumbling started as I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Trotsky Terence won the battle, as he had for eleven days now, but Constipation Conrad was trying a counterattack, and there were some small globules and lumps in the basin. Once again, all the evacuated varieties are composed of almost black and light brown/karki. It was colourful, almost, but messy. I had a body scrub and medicated the areas in need. I didn’t shave, but I may brave it to have one later.
I’d not noticed what the time was when I woke, but after the wet room session, I went to the kitchen to check the taps, etc. and took a photo of the dark, foggy view that was on offer from the kitchen window. , I knocked the clock mentioned above off of the window ledge. Then I got out the last of the four clocks I bought last year, put a battery in, and set the time right. 04:55hrs.

I got the computer on and soon regretted doing so. Over the next six hours, I went through torment, botherations, mood swings, and frustrations and ended up in a deep depression. CorelDraw crashed three times! CCleaner failed to enable me to upload photos, so I tried it with the Norton cleaner and had the same results. Zilch success!

During these hours, Carer Shaquille called. Then Carer Kimberley had to do the financial help, which she couldn’t because no one had shown her how, and I didn’t know. I had the joy of Carer Kara doing it all for me for months. But learnt nothing, or couldn’t remember, how to get through to the bank on the website; none of the passwords or numbers were safe in Kara’s mind. She has been moved into the carer’s office. I had to close everything down five times! My failings and inabilities made me feel even worse.

As it got lighter, amidst the computer problems, I gave up on the computer and turned everything off. I made myself a brew of Glengettie tea and ate four large cookies in dunking mode. I took six photographs as I went to wash the mug. Amazingly, the computer let me save the first two. But the other four, which had caught some seagulls flying on them, were not getting saved for some reason. The old photos I was saving had disappeared! I tried renaming the old images first, but that didn’t work either. They still went off into the ether. Saving was difficult enough before this happened! Grrr! I can’t take much more of this.

Yet earlier, when updating yesterday’s blog, it sent everything. I know there were only 4 snaps and graphics, but it seems terribly hit-and-miss since then. More miss that hit!

I got a comment from cyber-mate Tim about me trying a Tablet to solve the computer issues. I felt like a fool, not knowing what one was. Another message with links to suitable types of Tablets on Amazon. I tried them and got this message.

This is a very long-winded bit. Skip it if you like. Again! In the afternoon, after Carer Kimberly had been. She’s going to do her best to get me some help. I was going back on the computer after her visit and heard something drop that obviously I’d knocked off of the end of the c1962 Hopwells sideboard, with the hanging off doors and unclosable drawers; it took me a while to discover that it was my mobile phone. I searched everywhere, looking for it, without finding it, so I assumed it was that it fell. I moved things, boxes, books, etc., searching for it. The only place I’d not looked was underneath the sideboard. I had to search for my wind-up torch, and more time was lost! I could not bend down too far, fearing that Dizzy Dennis would have on my knees. But the frustration of not knowing where it had got to, if it was the phone that made the clunking noise and not something else, meant I’d lost the mobile. I’m making hard work of this for you. Sorry! I bent down a smidge too low with the torch search and lost my balance. Banged down on the knees, which was probably the least damaging fall ever… but one of the most painful, worse than the head wound one. Arthur Itis in the knees, the Cartilage Sister Carol and Chloe really hurt… then I felt even more pain from poor Little Inchie, as the Catheter tubing yanked at him when I tried to move as I tried to get to the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, to attempt to haul myself up.
I then realised I could have used my 1982-model newly found mobile to call for help. The thought of pressing the alarm wristlet button never came into my mind—what a clot!
Then it dawned on me that I didn’t know any numbers!
Aha! I spotted the new landline where Carer Kara had put Meridian Care, Warden Deana, and Sister Janes’ auto numbers for me. I pressed the preset bottom and got ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. Who kindly said she would get some help and come up. ♥
As I waited, I did my best to get my elephantine wobbly body back up on its plates. (Slang for plates-of-meat), Feet!)
But there was little chance that I could, and I couldn’t!
Minutes later, the rescuers arrived. I was in a praying position on my painful knees. They took an arm each from the back and hauled me up. They were here for about two minutes, did a grand job and rushed off. Both were busy ladies.
Thank you! ♥

Carer Israel arrived for the teatime medications.
I was telling him of my Whoopsiefauxpas but stopped when I realised he was writing on his log.

Then back on blog catchup.
Then, on the WordPress Reader.

I was serving the meal and took a shot of the late-evening view from the kitchenette window.
Can you see the ghostlike child in the clouds? Or dog?
The computer let me save these last two photos to WordPress in the morning!

Doesn’t it look horrible?
The Parmentier potatoes were baked in the oven, along with a pot of Polish pork knuckle meat, Milk Roll bread, and tons of strong Branston sauce.
I agree that the meat looks sickeningly repugnant. But the taste, especially the pork jelly, was lovely!

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May you Receive All That You require & Desire!

Unlucky Inchy: Tuesday 22nd October 2024

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05:45hrs: I woke up after a much better night’s sleep.
I took off and pictured the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was lighter-coloured for once, but not a lot of it.

I sat on the bed, and a deep thought overcame me. When it had finished, I made the bed… well, straightened it a bit. Then I went into the kitchen to ensure I’d not left the taps (faucets) running, the oven on, or the fridge doors open. I’d left a mess, but there was nothing untoward on the safety checks to report. I realised I’d forgotten to take the urine pouch with me, and I returned to the big room to collect it. Could I find it? Nope! I recall photoing it on the overbed table, but it was nowhere to be seen. I risked bending down to look under the bed, Nope! Under the Carers table. Nope! Thought I may have taken it with me and put it down somewhere in the kitchen, so I hobbled back to take another look. Nope!
Have I already been to the wet room to empty it? I poddled to the WC room to check. Nope! I felt a little nonplussed. It will undoubtedly turn up when I’m not looking for it. If this takes some time, the urine’s aroma or pong from the pouch should help my nose to locate it.

I’m off to the wet room on a dual mission.

Now, that was a different evacuation than most of them. Two-tone, distinctly brown and black, in what looked like cube-shaped mini-rugby balls (about eight) that plopped out simultaneously… followed by a mini-torrent of almost liquid jelly. The word I’m looking for is, Gooey! But no Whoopsiedangles today, just that I had to spend so long cleaning.

Did the teggies, and then I nervously tackled having a shave. Making absolutely sure I did not use the razors anywhere near the mystery wound on the back of my head. It went well. Two new shaving nicks, for they were hardly worth mentioning; a splash of the Brute soon stopped their flow. I managed a mini-, which was quickly followed by another. I suddenly became nervous as I thought I might have left the tap running in the kitchen. This thought seemed possible, as the hot water I used to shave was not as hot as usual. Stark naked, catheter bag hanging loose, I had to hasten to the kitchen to make sure… and I shoulder-charged the door frame in my rush, thus setting off . I got in the kitchen to find the hot water tap running, thankfully only slowly. As I almost lunged at the tap to turn it off, I against the corner of the trolley. I merely laughed these Accifauxpas off. No swearing or getting upset about things whatsoever.
Things worsened when I returned to the wet room to shave. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that my nose, lower face, chin, throat, and under my left eye were an odd reddy-blue colour! The Carer took a snap of it for me as she arrived, at the same time as the food order came. A bit of a hectic start to the day. Haha!

Carer Sham got the medications. She put on my diabetic socks—put them on my legs, I mean. She then helped me get the food into the kitchen and put it away. Bless her!
As Sham did the paperwork, I asked if she could see the marks on my face. The delivery driver gave me an odd look; I thought he must have seen the state on my face. Sham did, but it had almost left when I looked in the mirror. It almost needed a magnifying glass to still see it.
Sainsbury’s sent two loaves of Milk Roll bread, and both had a sell-by 22nd Oct date.

Carer Sam arrived. She could not see any blotches on my face at all, either. Another of the 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? Not that it matters; there were no pains, aches or itches with the facial globules. I suppose it may be a different form of the Excema or Acne?

The seizures had an hour or two with me. I think they varied from a few seconds to one that lasted about 15 minutes, as best I can estimate.

I was doing the second of the Ccleaner runs, and after this one, the computer let me get just one of the photos that had been refused earlier onto the blog. It was, I think, the third one I took this morning from the kitchen window. Not very good, but I like to show the dozens of my failed photos along with the odd one that comes out right. Hahaha!

Late afternoon, and I took these two snaps of the wonderful bubbly clouds.
In the first one, I can see a hand being held out to the left. It could be an animal’s head, an eel or a snake, maybe?
The second, taken to the left of the kitchen window, contained a feast of figures to be found.

Then the computer got sulky, and no more photos or graphics could be saved!
I was so tired and fed up, I turned off the computer and took two more evening sky shots. Hopefully, after more monotonous Ccleaning in the morning, these and the later ones can be saved, and I can add them then, hopefully with the snap of the terrible ready-made meal.

Carer Chris made the last two calls, but the lad seemed a little uptight. I’ll see and ask how he is at the morning call.
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Wednesday Morning
I cleaned with Ccleaner and saved most of the snaps I could not yesterday. So, here they are belatedly.

The end of Citrus Walk, beyond the car park. This is where the old garages used to be; each one had been broken or attempted to be broken into, so they didn’t replace them. Sad for the druggies who can no longer access them for smoking, trading and sniffing, and of course, there’s nothing for the poor little mites to steal anymore.

Sunset

Undercooked carrots, teeth-breaking beef, hardly any gravy, overcooked garden peas, crumbly potatoes… well ¾ of a small potato. The lemon yoghourt was nice. Hehe!

After sunset shots…
After sunset shot.
After sunset shot.

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TTFNski, Have a Great Day!

Icky Inchy: Monday 21st October 2024

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CAN YOU FIND THE HIDDEN FACE – IN 12 SECONDS?

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I stirred from my slumber. My immediate thoughts and concern was to make sure the computer would allow me to save graphics & photographs. I thought a little prayer might help, so I offered one up). I unhitched the attached nocturnal catheter bag that hung from the day bag. Put it on the wobbly, weak, over-bed table so the carer can give me a colour rating when he/she arrives. I just had to see if the graphics could be saved to use in this blog, well, at that point, yesterday’s.

So I got the computer on without taking any photos and visited the Porcelain Throne. Thankfully, I made it in good time. This morning’s evacuation was without accidents, whoopsiedangleplops, accifauxpas, or embarrassments. But it was almost as messy as Sunday’s visit. It’s not that I was too smug about it; I was more concerned with getting the graphics on the blog. I cleaned up the wet room furniture, and I had the slightest wash possible. I didn’t shave after the Accifauxpa on Sunday; I think I was a smidge nervous and concentrated on the computer as an excuse for not shaving. Hope that makes sense.

Not a lot went too well today!

I put on the three photographs from last night, making them smaller and losing some quality, but all three were saved! At this point, I thought, while I was doing them, I would get some shots for today done and saved, and I got the fice graphics for the top of the page done—still resisting going into a smug mode, I may have learnt a lesson after yesterday’s farce.
Updating the Sunday blog revealed so many mistakes that it took me three hours to correct them, although I feel I must have missed some more. My eyesight is so variable it seems to react to different light levels. When the sun is out, it is far worse. Glaucoma Gladys, I assume. I wondered if they would bother doing this operation at all; it’s been a long time since the Cataracts were done. The Doctor said they couldn’t be done until they knew the Cataract operation was successful. I’m still waiting to hear from them. But never mind.
I was interrupted when Carer Richard arrived. I calmed myself down and made a brew of Glengettie tea. I was well cheered up after telling Richard about the tumble and how I wasn’t sure if it was a razor cut or if I’d hit my head in the tumble. He said, smilingly, “We will have to send you into a home if you don’t stop having falls!” I laughed along with it, thinking he was joking. The memories of my stay in a ‘home’ after having the stroke came flooding back to me. It was a three-month nightmare! Then again, it’s no picnic living here nowadays. Imprisoned in the flat. Asking for help for me to get to the Doctor’s, dentist and opticians. Begging someone ot ring up and ask if they can do the injections at the flat, as they do for other house-bounders in the block. But they do not have the time to spend ringing the lifts and surgery and are put on hold with, as the last time, getting a; “You are nineteenth in the queue…” message. It’ll be too late for the flu and pneumonia injection soon. So, maybe a home might be a viable option? Then I remembered what happened in the one I was in and changed my mind.

I took two views from the kitchen, and after doctoring them, I tried getting them to save. No chance! I used the Ccleaner and went through the process as instructed, then turned everything back on, having to resign – on Norton, WP, Google and MS.
But would CorelDraw let me save anything? No!
So, I went through a clean-up via Norton. That failed, now the depression was gripping me!
I foolishly thought I’d see what I could delete. After the last cock-up, when I lost over 2000 photos, you think I would never try to do that again, wouldn’t you…
& stupidly, I did!
I’ve lost, and don’t ask me how I did, I don’t know, all of today’s photographs I’ve taken! I used some from the WordPress gallery and got so angry with myself.
I reran the CC and got the last graphic to load.
Then, I took some more photos and tried them.

The camera told me the SD needed formatting, so I did. I’d forgotten all about it — it clears the card altogether!

Then, I was so low that I gave up.
Inner hatred and loathing, worrying about my situation and unsolvable problems as I sat here, spiritless.
Then I realised it was nearly time for the 17:30hrs carer to come. It was too late to make a meal, and the anguish had made me hungry for some reason. But I did have a stew of sorts. I sat here stewing over and over; I felt defeated.

Made another brew of Glengettie. And rare resolve came over me. “Sod it!” I’ll look at the WordPress comments, if there are any, and go of the WP reader.

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DID YOU FIND THE HIDDEN FACE?
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FARE THEE WELL!

Impalpable Inchy: Saturday 27th July 2024

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A bloody day today at times. Shaving and later on in the catheter bag. I immediately started gulping water for an hour or so non-stop, and the urine was back on an NHS scale of 4. Which took away the hassle of calling an ambulance. For example, I had to call one after a tumble last time. I lay there on the floor for over four hours and eventually, agonisingly, got back up. Just as well, cause no ambulance arrived. But my back, which I’d fallen on, pained me for over two weeks afterwards. Thank heavens, I’d got a few doses of morphine vials in the medical drawer to use. But the other parts of the day went well… again! Well, no, that’s a fib. I had computer trouble again, caused by my inability to find files yet again! Still, I’m not moaning. Yes, I am. Aren’t I?
Of course, it’s early enough, 14:20hrs, for anything to kick off for yet a while. Hehehe!
I got the new camera going. With assistance from Carer Chris. I took some shots and will display them on this blog
is having a good time belting lightning up my right leg all day up to now, but not frequently, just now and then. That is enough. Thank you very much. The Cartilage gals Chloe and Carole have done a fair share of giving way. But my cunningly being sat down at the computer for so long limited their opportunities. Har-Har!
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I woke around 04:00hrs, forced myself out of bed, and sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, to take off the nocturnal catheter pouch, and nodded off back into the land of nod. I woke 2-hours later and took off the catheter bag. The urine was a 6 on the NHS scale colour card checklist. So I had a good swig of soda water.

Well, it’s been the usual extended sit on the Porcelain Throne, waiting for, urging the evacuation to continue from its peaking out point, which was stretching things painfully. 21 cracks on the ceiling, one crossword clue solved, and ten minutes later, the evacuating product began to move.

It had crawled slowly out and plonked into the water for two or three more minutes. The relief was tempered somewhat by the flow of blood all over from the bleeding of Harold’s Haemorrhoids. This caught me out cause for three days now, I’ve had concrete torpedo-type evacuations without losing the red stuff. On a quick look before the three chain pulls to clear the porcelain, I realised the torpedo had broken into grenade-like clumps. I was hobbling a little differently, awkwardly, for a while after that.

The shaving caused another slight loss of blood. People say things happen in threes, so I wonder what the next vampire experience might be.

As I was placing the sorted-out waste bag bins near the front door, carer Christopher arrived.
He asked if the showerhead had been delivered, and after I showed him, he set to fitting it for me.
I got the Friday blog finished and posted off, then turned my attention to the new Kodak camera, and using it for the first time. I used the other Kodak to take photos of the new one.

I tried using the Macro to take the bottle of Loyd sauce. But I’d damned if I can find how I for to turn it on again, now. Grrr! Talk about short-term memory loss!
Then in the scene shot option, the sky from the kitchenette.
Carer Chris returned a while later and attached the around-the-neck strap for me. He couldn’t find the Macro option either, and neither of us could read the instruction booklet.
Tried again to get some decent photos with the new Kodak.

I snapped several roads, Closes etc. on view, from the kitchenette window. Left and right. It’s getting late now, and as usual the eyes are getting worse, mistier, foggier and the letters and words as I type are slowly developing shadows on them.
It’s the same every day. At least, for some reason, it started a little later today.
I hope they will be clearer to me in the morning. Otherwise, all that money spent on the new Kodak will grind with me.

I’m struggling to see even more now, but at least if this shot of the kitchen sky is not good, I won’t know if it is or isn’t… and what am I talking about here?
Later, I tried another shot of the clouds, which still looked beautiful to me until I saw them in the taken photographicalisation.
I’ll put the quiz answer on.

I did not do well on this one at all.

Carer Israel did the early evening call. I gave him a cold can of orange-flavoured Lucozade from the fridge and a bar of cold chocolate. He seemed happy with the gesture, which cheered me up a smidgeon.
Gawd, the eyes are getting bad now.

I prepped, made, served up and ate the meal with a certain relish, not a sauce, I enjoyed this one.
This is a soup of sorts, a chilli soup with boiled and cut-up potatoes added. Milk Roll bread soaks up the juices. It’s very nice.
The cleaning up after eating was a bugger, though. Hehe!
However, during this process, I took a Kodak Two shot of the night sky. A
Pareidolianist delight!
A giant beast or fish scooping up the black clouds? With sand from the seabed disturbed? Well, that’s what I saw. Hehe!
Carer Israel arrived and gave me an extra permitted painkiller because despite enjoying the meal, I’ve now got angry with myself.
In a word… Arrgh!

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TTFN to you all!

Incredibility Inchy: Tuesday 23rd July 2024

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This Tuesday, I spent an awful lot of time with one-moment brainwaves like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, interspersed with times of them battling away at each other and having disagreements. Trying to identify what or which was the best option, choice, or course of action that needed responding to in favour of one or the other seemed to conjure up an unrecognised third-party decision-maker option. This made any conclusions or direction-making all but impossible. I just thought I’d mention it.
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My carer said the urine colour was a five or 6 on the NHS scale card.
Kara later put a new sleeve onto the catheter bag for me.
I decided to treat myself to an early-awakening mug of the superb Thompson’s Punjana tea. (One more is allowed today, Tsk!)
I got Kodak Tim and took these three photographs on the right of the morning view from the kitchenette window.
They had, of course, the usual scattered blotches on each one.

Then off to the wet room.
ruled the Porcelain Throne visit again. I swear the evacuation monster torpedo, freed at great effort and pain, had a worry-making green tinge embedded. After washing, no shave, I realised that I had none of the underarm and man-breast red blotch ointment. I asked Kara later, she is going to order them later for me. 👍
While urging the evacuation to start, I photographed areas that needed my attention for cleaning duties. There were plenty to choose from. The evacuation kick-off resisted all my efforts to get it to move. I even had time to have a go at the crossword.

I got on the computer to start updating the blog.
When Carer Richard arrived, he decided not to put on the diabetic socks because the leg and ankle both looked a lot better. I agreed. He had issued the medication, and off home he went, a tired-looking carer.
As I returned to the computer, the intercom sounded, reminding me that the Asda order was due today. I’d forgotten all about it coming. Yes, me, forgetting. Haha!
The deliveryman kindly put the food into carriers and boxes for me. Getting them into the kitchen was more effort-taking and produced some strong, heavy breathing for me, but I soon set about sorting out the foods after a minute’s rest. I made a cock-up with ordering the large pie, I didn’t realise it was frozen, and there was not room in the freezer to store it. I double-wrapped it and got it into the big waste bag. Putting the things away in the fridge, even I was surprised at how many items I found that were out of date. So many, that a few dates that I could not read even with the magnifying glass, I added them all to the big waste bag. It freed up a little room, but the freezer took the frozen potatoes, not the slightest chance of making any room for the pie. Tsk! For the red spring onions, I have one for Vegan Carer Kara to try. One for me to try. I liked them! The Dutch tomatoes were tasty, too!
I topped up the Carer’s & Nurse’s liquid treats shelves.

Several of then got a grip of me. Whether these were ‘s, or maybe , I don’t know. In fact, the next four hours or so are blanks. Other than I know that called, that’s all of this period I remember. I know she checked the catheter and phoned someone or made two medical-related calls, and I remembered to give her some thanks treats and the red onions. Other scattered bits are undecipherable.

I know I made a meal and photographed it. (In the morning, I realised I’d left the SD card in the camera!) I’m certain I got my head down early. In the morning, I recalled a bit of the dream. That was for the second day on the trot, I think. It was a truly weird one from days gone by. I’ll dwell on that further in Wednesday’s blog.

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All The Best of Luck!

Incontinent Inchy: Monday 22nd July 2024

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Doesn’t yer know that today started so well that I was questioning my own insanity? What a start to this prospectively enlightening, trouble-free, and confidence-returning day! Then I climbed out of the hospital-provided bed, caught the catheter pouch tube against the metal anti-fall bars, and without any hassle or leaks occurring! Fan-bloody-tastic!
The colour of the urine was classified by Carer Richard later, as a seven on the NHS rating colour card. That was a bit of a downer for me. Yet, I found myself whistling, well, I say whistling. I was trying to whistle; it was not easy with me losing another half-tooth to the land of rot and yesterday. Still, I laughed it off; even when Little Inchy’s fungal lesion started to bleed, I kept up my pecker… Honestly!

I’m off to visit the Porcelain Throne and have a stand-up wash and shave. I must remember to ask Warden Deana about getting the shower head mended. Having failed on the Porcelain, I started to have a shave, and I gave myself a little cut.
I put the Kodak Tim in my gown pocket and tried to take a selfie shot of how little the nick was.
The steam from the water blurred it. Shame! That double chin was embarrassing as well!
I then put on the Protection Pants in record time with far less hassle and pain than I usually do. By gum, today is going so well!
Feeling a little perky, I turned to leave the wet room and involuntary shoulder-charged the edge of the door! The response was a bit of bad language and a dip in perkiness!

I took a photo of the morning view from the kitchenette window and put the kettle on to make a brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Then, I emptied all of the waste bins into one and placed it near the door for the Carer to pick up for me.
As I turned to hobble back to the kitchen to make my tea, guess what? I against the towel dryer. Now, I was beginning to feel a little riled, ruffled, ratty, almost to the point of getting hacked off.

Carer Richard arrived, and I forgot to ask him yp put my diabetic socks on. Thus, I’ve been having activities from the vicious ‘s via .
I wish someone could tell me why, although I expect I may know. It’s with. Of course, I could well be wrong about that. You know, I’m becoming something of an expert in getting things wrong these last few years. No effort on my behalf is needed. I was well behind on getting this blog started. So I knuckled down while I knew there were no carers to call and did a pretty lousy job on CorelDraw, and then WordPress kept changing the font on its own accord. I spent about two hours trying to find a cure. I did some risky, easy-to-forget and lose where I was amended in the Settings and Appearance options. But although it accepted my different font in the editing sections, it did not change them on the blog editor. Sometimes, it would be on the Preview. Back to the editor and the old font was back.
Nearing losing my marbles with the frustration, I thought I’d try a different font… and the door chime rang out.
! It was a man and woman (Amelia) from Specsavers checking the eyes. It was, I suppose, perfectly understandable that I forgot they were coming.

Between , supported by it’s no surprise. They came in, barely hiding their disgust at the state of the room with the bed in it. Their superiority oozed from them as they went through the selling parts of their mission. Q & A’s. Sense of humourless. Prospective future Oligarchs, I think. Anyway, it seems I am cataract-free in both eyes. They think it must be the Glaucoma that’s causing the problems.

Arrived, full of beans. Gave her some nibbles and a drinkie for her kids. No medications were needed; I was too confused to take any after the WordPressing farce. Which is what I returned to after she rushed off on her duties.
It took another four hours of fighting to get the font I wanted to work on. I failed. Now I can’t remember what I’d done to try and get it accepted in the first place. Had enough of this. Frustration Frank visited.

Now, the persistent painful got as bad and persistent as she’s ever been. Carer Chris came, and I’m blown if I can recall much of the visit. I certainly didn’t make any notes on the pad, which indicates to me, that I possibly had some or most likely a or two.

Tired out now, but still messing about trying to sort out the changing font issue. Sod it, I made a brew of Glengettie tea and enjoyed it. Oh, I’ve just realised I’ve not had a Porcelain Evacuation all day!

If a need for food develops, then I might have an evacuation. I have more eyes and shoots to remove from the potatoes before putting them in the oven.
I took these pictures on the left earlier and forgot about them; it could happen to anyone, I say.
But the odds are it’ll be me!

Gorgeous clouds.

Then, I had another go at this blog. I’m not certain what’s happened or happening now.
But I was brought back to reality a smidge when the bloody, costly WordPress package started changing the font again. The obvious reason for this? Me! I doubt I am capable any more!
Amazingly, I grafted away without struggling to see as bad as I usually do in the evenings. I spent hours, most of the time, changing the font back and making errors. Eventually, I gave up. I had to. It’s now 01:45 in the morning. I’m drained and tired out, and I just smelt the burning potatoes in the oven! Another oven tray to throw away. More potatoes to de-scab and cook again. Which I did, smilingly, happily, contentedly… I speak LYINGLY Hehehe!
I did take these final photos. I hope to stay awake long enough to snap a photo of the potato meal. That is if I don’t get a or fall asleep and burn these potatoes. I do live well!

I forgot, Warden Deana called with my change for the foot lady and told me that poor Josie was not the woman we all know in the home she went to after her fall.

Back in the morning… well, it’s morning already, innit.
I made a meal for the third time, and I got to eat instead of burn it.
Nothing fancy, but I was hungry, so I enjoyed it.
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Cheers!