Shuddering Shoulder Shirley

Inchie: Tuesday, 7th April 2026

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06:30hrs: I stirred into a weak replication of life.
The left ribs were still giving me far too much bother when I bent, stretched, and, as for sneezing or coughing, 50% worse. But I don’t like to complain. Luckily for me, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirely was much calmer. And Back-Pain-Brenda was almost absent, to start with. She came on at the usual time, which was around 17:00hrs.

Took the night pouch off the day Catheter bag; left it for Carer Rashid to suss, check, and colour-grade on the Excel BP-Blood graphic. Then the other checks were started in full. Both Blood Oxygen and Pulse were slightly elevated. But the BP was bonkersly high. Off to the kitchen to check if I’d left anything on or running that shouldn’t be. All clear, after yesterday’s cock-up, leaving the oven on for 12 hours, and I treated myself.
I took this snap as I was leaving the kitchenette to consolidate the waste bins.
The need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, off to the wet room.
Nothing evacuated. Although that’s not strictly speaking true.
Where all the wind came from, I do not know. I wouldn’t be overly surprised if one of my neighbours complains later on. I may ask the Nottingham City Council to check the flat’s foundations. Hehehe! 

Carer Rashid arrived. As I went into the room he was in,  he moved to another, with his mobile in hand. It was funny at the time. I asked him, I think, on his second visit, to help me wash my feet and change my socks, which the lad did. He checked my legs and barrier-creamed the scars. He Porpain gelled Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirely, no need for any attention on being-kind Back-Pain-Brenda. 

Getting Google to start so I could get on blogging took over ten minutes of going through all the opening options again. A different one each time works. Getting CoewlDraw to open took me even longer. It got as far as this picture I took of the apparently frozen screen. The busy icon was working, but the light on the external hard drive had stopped. An hour passed as I kept nipping into the kitchen to put a giant potato in the oven. These usually take 45 minutes on 200. I set the heat to 120, as I was in no rush. Half an hour later, I nipped back to check on CorelDraw’s progress. Zilch!
Well, if it won’t load, I can’t shut it down without powering it off, which may gun the works up,
AS I finally decided I’d have to unplug, CorelDraw started to load. My life is mind-blowingly overly complicated. Frustrating, depressing, & unlucky.
Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer? Spit!

Then I smelled the potato burning in the oven. Hobbled hastily to the kitchen, to find the potato husks had thickened and flaked, with the flesh well overcooked. Somehow, the oven was red-hot, as if on full, but the dial showed I’d set it to 130. Think it’s kaput! So, a change of plans. I halved the potato, & emptied the husk into a basin. Adding some Leicester cheese, sea salt, and no-butter butter, Bashed it all up.

Got it back into the broken-down, overheating mini-oven, to reheat and hopefully create a slightly burnt cover of the cheese,
This will need concentration; I must keep an eye on the oven. Had to check the noise coming from the entry door area. A little loud, it sounded like someone scraping something. Back to check, it looked good, and I removed the cheesey spud. It was softer than I’d planned. I may have overdone the no-butter butter input? The terrible photo of it was disappointing to say the least. I worked on the blog while I ate it. Super-Tasty! Shame about the photos.
Annoyingly, CorelDraw froze, and I had to reload it again, losing a good bit of work I’d done. I took another snap of it as it restarted.
Ate the meal, made a brew, and Carer Mizra arrived. He’d bought me some bread. and green tomatoes. Made a sandwich later on, thanks, Mizra. 👍🏻 mate.
visit No.2. Five small cementlike sausages. Hard work, encouraging, willing and forcing things along. No bleeding!
Great, no mess to clean up!
Carer Mizra took the laundry down, ringing Jenny as she asked us to, and got the washer going. Frank later brought up the washing for me. Jenny had folded them nicely, and Frank brought them up for me.
Today, I was wearing a black Kagoule. Frank followed up on last week’s quip when I had the brown one on, “You look like Friar Tuck”, with “You look like the Sheikh of Aliba!” Hehehe! I love his quips.

Ejaz made his only visit of the day. Medicated he, Phorpain-Gelled, the shoulder. The lad was not his usual self. I asked if all was well. He said, “Fine, if I had a problem, you would be the first person I would tell and ask for help.” I was touched by this. I looked at these two efforts as the sun set on the horizon. As my EQ delivered some unearthly events that are due anytime now. I am not joking, and EQ is rarely, if ever, wrong. 
This forecast from him is distinct in detail in parts of his multiple messages.
The gullible will see renewed hope for peace in the world. Temporarily.
The next stage of humankind’s insanity will be revealed within 48 hours.
Hopes will be replaced with fear, combined with the knowledge that nothing can be done to save humankind, for without a planet, we cannot survive.
# Oligarges can escape into space but will not survive for long as oxygen, fuel and food are depleted.
Many will commit suicide, depressed that there are no proletariats left to rob, kill, overcharge and manipulate.
# Alright, I made that one up to cheer us all up.

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Inchie: Monday, 6th April 2026

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Last night, I kept waking up for a variety of reasons. Toothache Tiffany, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirely, Colin Cramps, or more often than not, it was 
. Be it by pain or worry, I fell back to sleep each time swiftly. I was finally brought back to actuality by Carer Rashid, who was seeking admission to the premises 12 floors below. Getting out of bed, again trailing the nocturnal bag along with me, I got to the intercom and pressed the open button. All my mind and body wanted to do was get back to sleep. I still do! I feel really worn out for some unfamable reason.
So, let Inchies Tales of Woe commence…
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I explained to Carer Rachid that I had to empty the nocturnal catheter, use the Porcelain Throne, and get a shower, clean my teeth & shave. Apologising for not having done them yet, adding the bad night’s rest that I’d just had. No reply, he was on his mobile.
Expecting him to stay near the wetroom door in case I call out for help while I am in the shower. He took out his mobile and sat in the main room.
So, no shower yet again. I’ve explained to each Carer my fear of showering alone after my last fall, when I had a dizzy spell in the shower with the bending and stretching. The evacuation this morning was a stubborn Constipation Conrad cracker.
First, I had to bend down to take off and empty the night bag; the others usually do this for me. Went a little dizzy taking it off, but no bother as such, and emptied it easily enough.
Then the battle commenced: It took a while and a smidge painful, encouraging things along. But finally, the evacuating product edged out agonisingly slowly.
It felt as if one superlong torpedo had escaped, but standing to clean Little Inchy’s bleeding haemorrhoids of sausage, which turned out so hard, the WC needed three flushes to clear them.
Rashid was still in the other room, or some other room. So I had to rush through the teeth cleaning and ended up with a cut on my gum and a cut on my lip. The shaving cost a fair bit of blood. Again, due to my rushing the job. The straps on the day Catheter came open, I called Rashid for assistance. He couldn’t have heard me, cause he didn’t show. I fumbled about getting the strap refitted, had a mega-Dizzy Dennis spell from bending down, and had to sit on the WC for a while until they disappeared. Then, miraculously, I tore off the night’s protective pants and put on a new pair with little hassle. Getting the kagoul on was difficult, and I required help, so I called the Carer again. This time, he casually appeared at the door and asked, ‘Are you alright?’ I asked for help getting the Kaghoul on, which drew a few laughs (I’ve put on a lot of weight, hehe!).
Medications given, and I asked for Barrier cream. And for the Phorpain gel to be applied to my back and right shoulder. He did the shoulder, can’t remember him doing my back. Getting the dressing gown on was another moment of humour. He made a mug of tea at my request. Weak & unwilling. Hahaha! 

I was pleased to see the bubble clouds were out and about this morning. I do like these skies. Why?
I’m not sure. Somehow, they appear to me as being so restful and peaceful.
I actually thought about getting back into bed… having to make it up first put me off. Huh!

Later, more of my photographicalisationings were taken.
Three to be precise.

I thought that they came out rather well, for me at least. The car park, with the sun rising to the right, offered a welcome change from the usual shots I’ve taken lately. I took another shot later of the park, but that came out as a movie, not recognised on CorelDraw. 

Then I took a shot, as best I could, of activity machines on the balcony.
Walking frame, then the self-propelling wheelchair,
& four-wheeled walker.
I made a nice strong mug of Gengettie tea, checked the TV programmes for tonight, and did the olive-oiling of my earholes that I forgot to do this morning.
Then tried to do a special effect shot of the computer screen as CorelDraw was reloading after going all sticky on me… Again! With the reflection of your truly taking the Kodak-Tim-2 snap. With reflections of the other side of the room !

A wide photo by Carer Rashid, on his mobile phone. To catch the puffer clouds I love. Thanks!

And finally, a shot taken earlier by the Carer
Showing my petre, cell, no,
apartment… little flat.

I made the meal for tonight. And got it marinating, ready to microwave later tonight. Naricot beans, tomato juice, carrots, red peppers, Tyriyaki and Gung Po sauces, water chestnuts, and mixed veg (canned & sliced). I got some o the rasty continental sliced bread from the freezer and left it to thaw out. A lick of my fingers, knife and spoon used, confirmed that I intend to enjoy this feast. Slurping anticipated!

As I went to clean my teeth, I took this snap of the night view’s sunshine. It didn’t look as dark to my glaucomatous eyes. I hobbled to the wetroom.

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Inchie: Sunday, 5th April 2026

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The first thing I recall on waking up was . Seconds later, I realised I was virtually shivering with cold. I knew something was wrong to feel this cold as I saw this morning’s sunshine blasting through my cotton-thin, tattered-edged curtains, their hooks missing from the balcony. I took off the nocturnal Catheter pouch, got a hold of  and went over to investigate where the cold was coming from. Taking this snap of the view… through the wide open balcony door! No wonder I was shivering, I’d left the doors open and been sleeping in the nearby 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. I closed the door and found that I had somehow lost one of my night socks. I needed to get warm, and, conveniently, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. I limped into the wet room and put the heater on. Got sat on the raised plastic seat, and wallowed in the warmth from the convector heater on the wall. It took mages to get the evacuation underway, but as I was warming up, I didn’t mind it at all today. I was convinced after ten minutes of urging and pushing, the Constipation Conrad would be in control. But, no! Although the first torpedo clunked into the bowl, immediately followed of a Trotsky Terence-like performance of splattering, stinking, watery mass flowed. The torpedo was dark brown; the follow-up was orangey-light brown. It cost me half of a new toilet roll, and an awfully long time to clean things up after the event.

I tried to get back to sleep by adding an extra-heavy quilt to the other one. But Ejaz rang the intercom to get admission. We did my Health Checks with the sphygmomanometer, blood tests with the Pulse oximeter, and measured the temperature. I think they were slightly better than the previous few days, but still in the High Category. Medications provided. Teeth were tinctured. Earholes olive oiled. Then  Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was Salved. Harold’s bleeding Haemorrhoids were Germoloided, and Little Inches bleeding Fungal Lesion was anticepticated. That was the only one that tested my pain level. Arthur Itis and Cartilages Kloe and Carole were Pornapain-gelled.

The back, amazingly, did not need any medicating… that’s a first this year. Then, while I was brushing my teeth, Ejaz made me a mug of tea; he’s getting better at it lately. Supplying me with some bikkies to dunk in the mug. Going through this every day can get a bit wearying. But thanks to Jenny’s help, I have longer visits on some days, which stops my blogging, but it is of great assistance when Mizra or Ejaz does it. They know what is needed and do not ask me what I want all the time. They, I think. appreciate my neurological problems and how they affect me, memory-wise, stuttering, and loss of balance. The others even leave me to bend down. Which is a bit galling when they do that, while they are on their mobiles doing reports, I assume.

After bidding Ejaz Cheerio and Tara, I took a decent snap of the view from the kitchenette window. Then had to pay another visit to the . This was almost a copy of the first effort of the day. More time lost. Glad that I’m well stocked up with toilet paper! For a treat, I’m using an Andrex roll between each of the terribly thin, cheap rolls.
I’d like to work out what’s happening with these dual activations of both Trotsky Terence and Conrad Consitpation-like evacuation on the same visit?

I hoovered the hallway and kitchen. Well, it’s not a Hoover, is it?
It is an Akitas cheapo version from Amazon. I can’t be accused of being high-class, educated, or a snob. Hehe!
Common as muck would be the best epitaph for me. When they bury my ashes or whatever they do, I’d like a plaque on the wall or put in the press. Perhaps something along the lines of:
“He came, He failed, and he went” Haha!

I think I saw some rain falling as I took this shot through the balcony windows. The door chime chimed, and in came Carer Ejaz, on his midday call. We checked the second Health Check figures were recorded correctly on the Excel log, and I was in so little pain, just took two Paracetamol. Good that!,
As Ejaz was getting ready for Porpain-Gelling Shaking- Shoulder-Shirley, he noticed that I must have been scratching away at the still showing scars on my lower left arm.
He put some Cetreben cream on it. Advising me not to scratch at them again, or they will never clear up or disappear.

Google’s opening was still hit-or-miss. I just kept trying a different icon for the same action until one worked. A different one responded to being pressed each time. WordPress was not so jerky today, well, at 02:45hrs, anyway.
This keyboard is getting harder and harder to see with its tiny letters on the keys, and faded off-white ones at that. I’m hoping for the best when the man calls to check the computer out, I think on Tuesday or Wednesday. Mizra made the arrangements for me when we went shopping on Saturday. I loved that, getting out to an actual shop and seeing what I was buying beforehand. I hope not to buy food online anymore. With all the mistakes I keep making, getting help shopping is invaluable now. I hope it continues weekly, please! Hehehe!

Cor blimey, the sun had dipped!
Then the rain came again.

Inchie: Saturday, 4th April 202 New Problems arose, each one solved. YES!

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I enjoyed writing this. Why? I’ll tell yers! Despite feeling a little out of sync & balance when I woke, as per usual, several new problems had started arriving shortly afterwards; the greater part of them, with much-appreciated help from Jenny and Carers’ Ejaz and Mizra, were solved! And each in a short time. The misplacement of the Kodak-Tim-2 camera wasn’t sorted until late afternoon. I’ve got some used and unused graphics to give the blog a bit of colour, and I hope some humour as well.
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0655hrs: I stirred back into imitation life, feeling a smidge groggy. As I was taking off the night bag from the day Catheter bag, I anticipated the inner rumbling would arrive to send me to the Porcelain Throne, as it had done for the last four days. Buy, no. In fact, it is now gone 19:00hrs, and I still haven’t passed a sausage, or even visited the Throne. Not that I minded, after the two cases of involuntary emissions from the rear end, and all the pain of cleaning it up.
It took me an inordinate length of time to get Google to open again. Frustrating, this and all the other problems I’ve had with the computer. I expect it will pack up on me soon. But at least Carer Mizra will have a look later.
Ejaz arrived as I had just got the Ode started. Goes without saying, but the blue screen came on a couple of times, and I had to turn everything off, losing the two hours of work I’d done on the blog Ode. Ejaz gave me the prescription medications and did a full-body check, applying Cetraben, Barrier, and Germolene creams where needed. Phorpain-Gelled the right shoulder, and under my man breasts.
I got the computer working again, well, I just rebooted it, and was in the process of struggling to get Google to open again, and Jenny rang as Carer Mizra arrived. I’ll ring her back when Mizra has done his thing… I thought. Turns out that we’d agreed yesterday that Lizea would take me to the computer shop, and, of course, I’d forgotten about it. So, it was a mad rush for me to get readied in time for us to catch the bus. Mizra said to leave the computer, helped me get dressed and get the walker ready to use, and off we went to the bus stop. To make things a smidge worrying, I could not find my flat keys and fob! Mizra said he would lock up using the keys from the safe on the wall outside. We hastened to the bus stop along the front of the flats. I was struggling to breathe with the rushing, but it had to be done. Mizra went ahead as the bus arrived, but it took me a few minutes to catch up. But nobody complained, just gave me irritated looks. Haha!
We got off the bus at Sherwood. Mizra stopped me from falling over getting off the bus, bless him. We walked down to the Computer Shop, and Mizra spoke with Asif. Plans were made for someone to call at the flat to assess the status of my computer and let Asif know so he can get a replacement with more power and memory installed. Times and dates I can’t recall, but I’ll check with Mizra later tonight.
Coming out of the Computer shop, Mizra took me to the Continental food store to buy some food. I’m glad to say the cash card worked.
We’d just missed a bus back, and Mizra would not let me try to walk back up the hill. So, we waited for the bus. Up and back to the flat, up the lift and inside. Mizra put the food away as I started a search for my keys and camera. No luck with either.
When Mizra departed, he said he was sure that Ejaz would find the camera and keys.
I got the jacket off and dressing gown on, and sat down on 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 to do so. And felt a lump on the cushion with my bum… it was the missing Kodak-Tim-2 camera! So I put it to use on the purchases that Mizra made possible.
They had some Sokolow foods to die for in stock. Silesian chicken sausages, Polish pork & beef grill sausages. And a Pork Loin smoked ham, absolutely delicious! Expensive, mind you. I’ve not found any for over a year. Soft bread rolls. Halal lemon wafers. Hard green tomatoes, I do like them so. And a box of Dutch soft cheese triangles with four flavours.
I called Jenny with the news about the computer.
Then took some shots of around the flats,
Front car park,
End car park…
Eerily quiet?
Towards Sherwood.
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Mizra made his last call. Assisted me in preparing my meal of the day. Told me the man will call about the computer on Tuesday or Wednesday.
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Stopped the blog and got the chips in the oven.
And watched football on TV.

Back in the morning – Hopefully.

I’m back, but it took until the dawn of the evening.
Carer Mizra helped me make the meal. Spread the cobs for me, and checked on the chips I was about to get in the oven as he departed. Bless him. Got the chips cooking, closed the computer, ran a virus scan, and it was time to serve the meal. Two Silesian sausages, soft cheese-filled bread rolls, and oven chips. I took this snap of it. And settled to eat it. It tasted very nice, good in fact. 

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May Your Bread Drop Butter-Side Up!
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Inchie: Mon 29 Mar 2026: Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley supported by Back-Pain-Brenda & Cracked-Ribs-Roger assisting, Computer Zonked!

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A day of more pain than when I was in the hospital. Mainly Bad-Back-Brenda, Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley and Cracked-Rib-Ruella. Shirely being the lead aggressor. But differently today for Ruella. The pains came and went at random. Then again, so did the shuddering.
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Angel Jenny was away at her relative’s adobe in Chesterfield, I believe. I hope she had a lovely few days, a good change, and great chinwags, not forgetting! 🤎
She deserves a break from me and my problems lately. Hehe!
But this Sunday has been calmer. Not being able to make contact with the bank on a Sunday is less stressful. I just hope tha the oligarchal British Gas does not cut the power to my electricity meter. Please!
Carer Ejaz arrived. I ask him again to get me a list of the Carer’s new call times so I do not get caught out or confused. No answer was the reply. He looked at the new medications on his desk. Then Phorpain gelled Shuddering Shirley and Backache Brenda.

Oddly, I think I had several mini-seizures today, but with none of the upflux of acid after each of them, morning and afternoon. Of course, the dizziness and lack of balance were there. Toothache Tiffany joined in late afternoon. Bad enough for me to use Toothyache Spray and take an extra Co-Codamol.

Back on track.
Two snaps were taken of the morning view, and I tried to make it look like one wide shot. I failed.

I considered the current nine prob;ems I am having since getting back from the hospital. I decided that the Bank blocking my card, British Gas threatening to cut off my power, and Grammarly not being paid might mean I lose it. But can’t do anything until my money… if, I have any left, is released to pay off Grammarly and buy some food. Dunnit sound awful? It is!

Got on with the blogging, belatedly. And either fell asleep, or had a mega seizure that I think lasted an hour. No way of knowing after I’d been certain I’d had some, upflux-free ones in the morning. Life is so
complicated since I finished work, and in some way busier; fighting of the Oligarchs, British Gas, TSB Bank, Virgin Media, and Liberty Global, etc. How I found time to go to the hospital for so long, I don’t know. Not that anyone noticed. (🎼Sad violin music🎼 Haha!)

Ejaz did a 15 minute call. Gave me medications, then Phorpaine Gelled the shoulder and back for me. I asked him to help me open a can of Water Chestnuts. We added them to the Sweet Tiyaki Sauce, and baked beans in a microwave tub to marinate.

The oddest mixture was released on my Porcelain Throne visitation.

A different angle of the end car park was taken on the balcony. Despite it raining, I saw no mud slide on the ground. Well, a little bit. Then to the kitchen to take this shot of the front car park. I regret doing this. As I closed and twisted the window handle, the ribs kicked off with more force.

Ejaz next call and we had a bottle of Malt each, and a quick natter. Mostly over my concern that we must talk to my bank manager tomorrow, without a doubt.

Later, the rain returned. I took this shot through the closed window in the kitchenette.
Then a sudden Dizzy Dennis attack all but had me over. Enough of that, I got the meal in the oven, and closed the computer. It was time to anyway, as Cataract Katie was foggin over, itching like mad, and at times it was painful. Going to get the meal made. Carefully, as Dizzy Dennis was persistent now. Coming in waves.
Back in the morning, I hope.
Darn it, no Enoxaparing left. I must get some ordered, I’ll ask Ejaz to do it for me. If he calls again. 
 The computer went down, and it took me hours to get it back. No idea what I did to get it back, but expect the same next time I use it (Now).

Carer Dilan got on to the bank about the blocked card. Ending with him saying the card is now unlocked.
They sent an email saying the same.
I could lose Asda, Grammarly, British Gas, Rent, mobile, landline, EMAILS and WordPress payments were not made, and getting messages and threats from so many debts I owe.  
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,Comp down, sticking, need Asif to help fit a new one. No access to email anything. And how do I pay the man, without my bank card operative?
Took me half an hour to tyoe the above, blocking, sticking, in a mess.
Waht next?
Just noticed Grammarly not working, they may have blocked me for non-payment. Maybe I did something lethal in trying to get back online. Try again in the morning. The end is high.

 

peed off, depressed… I pray I can get the computer tp open in the AM. If not…

Inchy Today: Friday 2nd May 2025

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STRANGE FACTS YOU MAY NOT WANT TO KNOW,
Things that happened as I began to grow,
Dad decided that to the park we would go…
To watch the cricket, I thought, oh, no,
I get more fun looking at a Picasso,
Can I go on the swings, Dad?
This seemed to make him mad,
He said, keep quiet and be a good lad!
I sneaked off for a walk about a tad,
Carrying football boots, I saw a lad,
I went to watch their game, naughty dingwad.
Trying to open the gate, I was tugging…
Hearing Dad’s voice, I hid absquatulating,
He didn’t see me; I found that amusing…
But not the following crushing…
It was my thumb, and it was bleeding,
Dad came over, saying… What a state!
“Thee thumb ends chopped off, me mate”,
The lad who’d run his car into the gate,
I recall his language was articulate…
Apologising, so there is no need to altercate,
The ambulate arrived, its bell ringing,

They took me to the children’s hospital A&E,
Put me on a waiting hall trolley,
A nurse checked the thumb & bandaged me…
Said that she’ll be back shortly,
I waited and felt a little sleepy,
Took me to the treatment room swiftly,
Said, “We’ll have to sew it back on” curtly,
Which they did, and very neatly,
Back out into the hallway…
You’ll stay here as a cautionery,
“You have been fearless, not cowardly!”
So, I had coped with the calamity,
I turned to look for a lavatory…
And had another Whoosiedangloppery,
I fell off of the trolley,
It doesn’t feel like it, but apparently…
But that was back in August 1950,
When they got me up, I’d broken my knee!
The start of my run of being unlucky,
What have I done successfully?
I’ve about run out of currency,
Born with the world’s tinniest ever Willie,
Cancer, shot, Peripheral Neuropathy,
Glaucoma, Cataract, at 23 I became a baldie,
Being nearly drowned later made me a deafie,
Got made redundant when I was 63,
Then, they fitted a mechanical aorta in me,
Cartilages giving way, then Reflux Roger,
Then the devil infected me with Anne Gyna,
Haemorrhoids, colour-blind, then another catastrophe,
Ingrowing toenails, having to pay for chiropody,
Hearing aids, spectacles, & lost my mobility,
Taxed on my pension… Oh, did I mention…?
Starmer stole my winter fuel allowance from me!
I cannot claim to have been over-lucky,
I may need help psychosomatically,
Psychologically, I live abnormally,
I’m getting help, the falls team agreeably…
Will visit to aid my recovery,
They will help me significantly,
The Carers do, definitely…
But it’s all too costly!
I am a proper moaner,
Most of my ire is self-anger,
Leaving hot taps to run colder,
Doors open, fridge flowing over,
I’ve turned into a grammaticaster,
Many traits & skills that I cannot master!
No point in becoming a reprehender,
Starmer’s done well, and he’s a cheat & liar!
His father was a toolmaker,
That’s true; he made a useless one named Keir!
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Less time left than ever before after making this Ode!
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04:15hrs: I woke, removed the catheter pouch, and went to the wet room to get the cleaning up done &
sorted out. I was feeling, well, not perkier, but better than I have done for a few mornings.
I checked the computer email in case any of the medics had sent me an update.
I realised the snaps below, taken last night by Carer Ejaz, are rare. ‘Rain’ was missed in yesterday’s blog. I plead Guilty!

There were no cuts, and the bruised eye looked bad. Not really, but it made me sound brave! Hehe!
The ulcers and were far less vivid this morning.
Some new growths had appeared near DVD veins.
At teatime, I showed Carer Joe. There were new ones, and those in the photo had been leaking from a tiny spot on top of each one that had dried hard.
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?

Mini-seizures and doing the gloriously silly Ode above ensured I spent hours and hours slogging away, constantly getting slower. Several hours were lost.

A social team member (I can’t recall the name)rang me, reminding me to call the doctors to get an appointment with her – one might as well have called Putin and asked him to kindly stop killing people; the result is the same.
Apparently, the Doctor asked Matron Jackie to tell me to make one. Then, the Doctor requested that Social remind me. I can only get there with a Carer on a Wednesday. When Carer ‘Joe’ rang for me, he was told that the Doctor does her home calls on a Wednesday. After talking with the organiser, the best he could offer was for fifteen-thirty, on the fourth of June. But this is only protem. Carer ‘Joe’ said he’ll see if he can get cover or make changes for that day. He’ll have to ring them back to make it for another day if he can’t get things arranged for that day.

The costly nail cutter from the hair salon came up to do them at ‘ten minutes’ notice. This threw out my plots for the Ode and delayed me even further. Tsk!
I’d just had a mini seizure and was not totally compos-mentis. Nice gal. Hurt a bit on the ingrowing nail toes. In fact… ARRGH! Hehe!

I’ve got a potato in the oven to try making cheesy spuds. But, on a low light. It’s the last call of the day, Ejaz, I think it will be. He’s due over the next hour; I’ll not start eating until he’s gone. Then, the feasting will start. Hahaha! I’ll turn the heat down on the oven so they don’t burn.

Back with an update in T’morning’!

Good Morning!
Carer Ejaz arrived.
I took these snaps of the sun going down with my (donated) Kodak 2a.
Then, about a minute later.
The sun was moving down quickly.

The ready-made meal was shepherd’s pie, a baked potato, and two cheese-topped bread rolls.
Another tasty meal! Great!

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All the best of luck!
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Inchy Today: Saturday 26th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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A NEW AILMENT
I was sitting there, having a drink of Zinfandel,
I was depressed but not feeling suicidal,
Admittedly, I was finding life barely wadeable,
But why was I now thinking so depressional?
I need to cheer up but lack the wherewithal,
I’d gone from singing to feeling vincible…
I didn’t feel a part of anything tellural, 
Then I’d turn all phlegmatic and stoical.
What had changed? Guilt, now I feel sacral,
Suddenly tired, so tired, feeling sardonical,
Accepting that life is but ephemeral…
High Horis visiting is so enjoyable…
Depression Duncan returns, he’s unshakeable,
But why? It’s all unanalysable,
Keeping calm may be advisable,
Arguing with myself again, I must be tactful,
PN hinders thought and movement transferral,
Doreen Dementia is also not terminatable,
High Horis returns! Seemingly therapeutical,
Mini-seizures; sometimes things get threnetical,
Ailments can prevent stuff from being doable…
Problems mental and physical,
What I’m going to say may sound unbelievable…
In a High Horis, life seems incredible…
The sensation I had was execrable…
I floated out of my body, extrinsical…
I looked at myself, existential…
A chance, of course, this could be dubitable
Which gave me a theme for this doggerel,
Are these events possible or circumstantial?
With my mental ailments, possibly corporeal?
Another seizure then found a new carbuncle,
In a rear area just below my belt buckle!
As bad as things are, I still had to chuckle!
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03:10hrs: I bounded out of bed, somersaulted over the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, landing safely by genuflecting my knees at the perfect time. Yodelled, and…
Oh, well, alright then…
03:10hrs: I struggled to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag. Then, I struggled even more to get my legs off the bed, knocking my walking stick over (I’ll get it in the neck for making noise this early from Marie, who lives below, next time I see her!), as both Cartilages and Arthur Itis didn’t seem to appreciate my sleeping in the hospital bed and were giving me some gip. I sang out as I stubbed my toe on the Ottoman… Twice!

I took this snap while checking the taps, fridge, and freezer in the kitchen to ensure I hadn’t left anything out of order. No doors are left open, windows are closed, and cookers are turned off.

This session took well over two hours. There were a couple of things that went well. I can’t recall them at this moment cause so many went wrong!
The first thing I tackled was pouring jugs of hot water, washing-up liquid, and Dettol into the grey bowl that my plates of meat fit into. To soak/wash them while doing my teeth and shaving. Which I did, and cleaned my painful, going rapidly-rotten teeth. My mistake was forgetting about the bowl with my feet in it and reaching for the Toothache Spray. I tipped the bowl, and water spread all over the floor! Still, I had clean feet. I also cleaned up the floor. It’s not easy with a mop, bucket and walking stick in tow. I also had a third stubbing of the toes. What can I say? Maybe Arrgh? Finally, I got back to do the shaving. Three tiny cuts underneath the chin, neck and nose. How I cut myself on my nose will remain a mystery. Nobody knows! I stopped the bleeding with the Brut aftershave. It stings a little but does the job.

Porc failedI had to use them before starting the medicationings.
Constipation Conrad ruled absolute this morning. It was pure agony.
I tried to expedite the process, but the evacuation was very slow going. My head was going dizzy with the pain and effort needed to encourage some movement. Eventually, the motion began, but it got stuck part-way!
Oh, what a painful morning!
I felt like I’d been on the toilet for an hour or more.
Suddenly, but oh, so slowly, the torpedo, it felt more like a submarine, quarter-inched its way out.
It plonked into the bowl with a thud.
There was a fair bit of blood!
From , well, there would.

Med HydrI then washed, antiseptically cleaned, and applied cream to the affected area. Doing it over again with some Germoloid Ointment.
More precious time was lost. However, the washing and medications did nothing to ease my situation. It was almost  Lovely!
Then, I made a brave decision. (Yes!) Little Inchies Fungal Lesion would be done next! Get more pain out of the way. I usually leave it until last, as it is the most painful one to do.
Ugleklump! Cragnackles! That hurt!

I did both eye sprays. Then, after cleaning the ears, I inserted the olive oil into each channel. A nasal spray was squirted up both sides. Then, another challenging task was undertaken. Needed the Barrier cream to be put on the right ankle. The left ankle was not leaking. A simple enough job – but reaching down to apply it was the problem. It was entirely overcome by my cunning use of paper towels dabbed, and the small plastic Picker-Upper was used to apply it. It wasn’t exactly pain-free, but it was bearable.

Oh, I am good! Hehe!

I’ve been using this graphic of the small picker-upperer on and off for years. I’ve only just noticed that I had spelt ‘picker’ wrongly. Tsk!

7:00hrs: I got two potatoes out, ready to go into the slow cooker later on. Of course, I forgot all about them; they had shrivelled a bit, and I threw them away, opting for frozen mini-roast spuds instead. I spotted the tubers on the counter around 21:00hrs.

Carer Ejaz made the first call of the day. Diabetic socks and medications were sorted out.

Daytime photos taken.

The clouds grew thicker.

It got hazier.

Then, it cleared a little.

Brightened up a smidgeon.

Struggled with updating the Friday post.
Well into teatime before I’d got it done.
Today, the above Ode cost me a few hours. Chiefly due to repeated mini-seizures and my mind wandering, I found myself scripting while I was out of it. So many corrections to be made. I may have missed some as the fog dawned in my head.

I got carried away searching for an old photo of myself to use on a future blog. More hours lost.
I spent too long thinking of and getting the photos cleaned up a smidgen; here they are.
c1951.
Then I took one taken earlier this year.
2025.
This sent me off on an unpleasant tangent.
Guilt and shame showered over me for my past actions. However, it clarified the reason for my bad luck and the mental and physical pains I now experience. Truth is, I deserve them. This afternoon, I found myself unself-pitiable.
A kind of freedom lingered, of acceptability.
I hope I can experience this feeling of peace again.

Carer Mizra did the second call. Confusion over medications. Mizra’s second time of calling. She put the socks on and creamed the right ankles for me.

I think I made a Sainsbury or Ocado order later on. I’ll need to verify this tonight.

Carer Rozma did the last two calls. I was having mini-seizures on both calls. It’s only through the scribbled notes on the pad that I remembered he’d called.

Approximately 21:00hrs.
What a change in the view!

My belated meal
Very nice, too!
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Up The NHS – Bless!
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Inchy Today: Wednesday 23rd April 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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GOOD RESULTS
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Failures, mistakes? I’ve become an epigone,
It made me downcast, glum, & woebegone,
Life today, I just can’t underfong,
Hopefully, I’ll not suffer for too long,
I’ll soon see St. Peter, and be logging on…
Depression is a vile botheration…
My mind in constant circumbilivagination,
Brain & body with little corroboration,
Worries, fears, defeats, no cachinnation,
My mental visitors seem all cacodaemon,
The Grim Reaper’s awaited clarion…
I’ve given so much contemplation,
No solutions, just failed bodge, after bodge!
Will I be an Angel, or Beelzebubian?
Will I find safety, a hide, or a bastion?
Will Hell hold or hide bacchanalian?
Hell, is it the source of depressionism?
The Devils home, desolation, damnation?
Will retain my delusion & disequilibrium?
Or judge my sacrilege, profanation?
Or take heed of my moral declension?
Are my thoughts all a misconception?
Are Heaven & Hell; both a delusion?
Yesterday’s confusion I’d like to mention,
The failures, fears, all in deliration!
Will either be divine, celestial, or elysian?
Or are both, just an illusion?
Is there no other option?
Humankind, developed by an alien?
Monitored, our every move digested…
To what we are affiliated, afflicted,
Angered, get-bladdered, how have we altered,
Sins, naughties that we have adopted,
As to why? I’m just bewildered,
We’re castigated, castrated, get cataracted,
We murder, kill, give & get castigated,
Is this message getting communicated?
Explaining one thoughts is complicated…
We’ve been constipated, not consolidated,
We’re disordered, we’ve dithered, doddered…
Defaulted, defected, deflected, & dejected,
Murdered, bribed, MPs get backhanded,
Alliances get disbanded,
Morals do not get expedited,
Freed murderers are paroled,
Honest citizens get exasperated,
Oligarchs laugh at food price rises,
These wrongs are never explicated,
Minds & computers should be expurgated!
Crimes excused, falsified, almost justified,
I’ve lost the plot; must get this ode finished,
Heaven or Hell, they can’t be selected,
Which makes many people frampold & fantad,
We’ve all be criticised, castigated, hated,
Our aggravations have snowballed,
Getting more vicious, but never alleviated,
If lies, deceit were air, we’d all be asphyxiated,
Is death, a feature of life, or a forfeiture?
It could of course be a forewarner…
Life’s gone, but what’s around the corner?
Heaven or Hell, which one would be better,
Naturally I don’t know the answer,
Well, speaking as a grammaticaster…
And obviously an experienced galumpher,
This is just a hypothesis or conjecture…
Bearing in mind I’ve got cachexia,
Which is better to have than copropraxia,
Reserved for those with a particular disorder?
Maybe those of us with ecdemomania?
Maybe I’ll fit into that category?
I could beg St. Peter for an amnesty,
He may consider my plea, ambiguously,
Though he may answer me astringently,
Heaven or Hell? – Hopefully, Heaven for me!
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Sorry but today has been a nightmare.
Carer Joe, replaced with Carer Ejaz.
Who had not done the three hour shift before.
Other things prevented my working on the blog for long. This is really the best I could do.
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05:30hrs: Up and wobbling about.
Kitchen safety checks, took this rainy kitchen view

Then I went to have a long session.
The full works. Hard work due to both cartilages and several mini-seizures during the two hour session.

Carer Ejaz visit. It appears we have only one of the beta blockers left in stock. Ejaz made notes on his mobile. Said he’d sort things out.

Computer, doing the long ode for today.

Raining a bit now, no sunshine out yet. (midday)

Rain started, rain stopped!

Well, I made a right mess of this evenings meal!
Failures: I undercooked the potato cakes. Never have I bought fattier, greasier Golonkowa. The carden peas were taty, though. Unfortunately, I found some mould on the wheatmeal rolls!
A sad end, to a tragic day!

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Not a good day by a mile. I’ll try to smile!
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Inchy Today: Friday 25th April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – – Another good week so far! – – –
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Do you usually take the bait?
Or do you weigh up the odds and wait?
Do you think life is hell or bittersweet?
Political Parties, who were bivariate,
Now, there’s Starmer’s shower, & he’s variate,
I wouldn’t say he was inadequate…
Mayhap a little ignorant and inquorate,
Despite his backhanders, he looks lanate,
The Tories, now powerless to negate…
Herr Starmer’s a political novitiate,
No politician can stop or obdurate…
Nobody to challenge him, to objurgate,
As Prime Minister, he’s illegitimate,
His lies got him in power to infuriate…
Kier should be easy to mock and humiliate,
He should not wait to hibernate…
He has no moral convictions to incapacitate,
No guilt, no shame, no loss of face to illustrate,
He loves to regulate but not reevaluate,
His robbing of pensioners will reverberate,
His own HMG rules he does violate,
If his lies continue, he’ll vermiculate,
His lies are ignored, as with Watergate,
I don’t think he’s anyone’s mate!
His dishonesty is too complex to mitigate,
Only gloom for the UK’s proletariat,
His underhandedness can only be profligate,
The proletariat, Keir does provocate…
His lies, he continues to replicate,
Lies by omission on autorepeat,
Before each move, they collectively machinate,
Thesaurus consulted for compassionate…
They all already know how to spell desperate,
Trying to avoid using misappropriate,
Grabbing everything that companies donate,
MP’s expenses are ignored; they do not noviciate,
Starmer continues to confuse & obfuscate,
He’s a clever con man, a tergiversator…
Cunning defrauder, liar, and defalcator,
Hustler, bustler, shyster, & backhand-taker,
A true Labour voter dissapointer & alienator,
One more thing about our new Prime Minister…
He’s a two-faced, double-dealing ambidexter!
I hope I don’t get a visit from his barrister?
To sue me for defamation of character…
He can come to see me, we can have a natter…
If he finds time amidst his backhanding colloquia,
Getting his lagniappes, donations & baksheeshes,
He stole my fuel allowance, but does it matter?
May I express my thoughts about him? A conspirator! 
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Contrails in the sky!

Not a very good one.

Contrails gone.

That’s a bit better now.

The clock belatedly changed.

FOOD!

Early evening.

Absolutely Lovely!

Late night; Mixed clouds?

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TTFN, Each! 
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 22nd April 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– – POLITICAL – –
Tuesday, 22nd April 2025, 9:30. 0. 0.
What do I see today, politically?
Alcoholically, ablutionary, & apocalyptically!
Backhanders taken, greedily,
Compassion? Only adumbratively…
Questions answered deviantly,
<<<>>><<<>>>
Top of Starmer’s gaffes,
“Sausages” instead of “hostages”!
Showing his gaffe addictiveness,
He shows tendencies of being anorakish,
Some decisions made, are cartoonish!
<<<>>><<<>>>
His gaffes can always be worked around,
His lies leave voters spellbound,
Not denied, just juxtapositioned,
He thinks everything he’s done is sound,
Price rises, are not propound!
<<<>>><<<>>>
The Tories are now but a bugaboo…
To come back, they must be true-blue!
Their defeat for me, was a blanscue,
I knew what Labour were going to do…
Win the election! More price rises are due!
<<<>>><<<>>>
Bet they’ve got gelt on some archipelago,
Fiddle expenses, take backhanders too,
More & more dosh they seem to accrue,
Gas, electricity cost rises for us though,
Food, bread, spuds, up, even cocoa!
<<<>>><<<>>>
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I unwillingly got up at 05:00hrs.
Removed the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Got up and nearly fell back down again.
Gave way on me.
She did this again a couple of hours later. But I was in the hallway at the time, taking the groceries, so the walls saved me that on that occasion.
Next, a rare prolonged visit from .
As far as I could tell, I’d had no seizures of any type or kind up to now.

I took a photo of the calendar clock to include here later, after resizing it to fit the page.
Took a blue-view photo from the kitchen.
Cloudless! But not for long.

Sorted the waste bags and got them to the waste chute, but stopped myself in time. It was too early to use it yet, for fear of waking somebody living below as the bags tumble the twelve floors to the bin. I returned to the flat, and made up three one litre drinks to satisfy the demands from the bladder & catheter. I used soda water ones. One with some lemon in to flavour it, one with orange cordial, and the last one with Tango orange. Each one also had a sprinkling of bicarbonate-of-soda added.

I downloaded the photos I had already taken to CorelDraw. It took me some time to get the computer to save the files, but I eventually managed to do so.

The intercom came to life. It was the Asda order arriving. The driver packed the lose goods into carrier bags for me. I insisted had picked a drink for himself before he left.
Plenty to pick from.

I started packing the things away, planning to take photos of the food as I emptied the bags.
I walked Carer Ejaz. He hurried me to get the things away, so no chance for many photos. I took two before he arrived. He fitted the diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, checked the taps, and verified the food dates.

So, I opened the cupboard doors, the fridge, and so on, to take shots of them when he had gone.

First photo.

Second snap. Asda didn’t have two of the breads in stock, so it looks likely I’ll never buy a loaf of my favourite one, the sliced milk roll. Humph!
The fridge.

The freezer.

Top cupboard,

Bottom cupboard.

I got the stew of the day, a vegetarian started.
Doing it in the slow-cooker this time.
Onions, carrots, mushrooms, gravy pot, gungo beans, pickled black peas, pickled water chestnuts, & a tin of garden peas, with some Gung Po added. Left it on a low light for two hours, then turned it up.

Got the ode sorted out and posted it on the blog. 
Feeling tired now.

Carer Joe arrived at 13:15hrs. He rang British Gas again and got through this time, after a long wait, but he did say they were playing jazz music. Hehe! 
Not sure how much the call will cost me, but the lad was on it for a long time. He eventually got through the hoard of human messages, and spoke to someone. He said it has been sorted now. Thanks, Joe.

I went into the kitchenette to turn up the heat for the stew and added some tinned potatoes That I had sliced up. The juice was tasty.

Back in the main rubbish room, I emptied the catheter day pouch into the jug… and…
I was bent down released and kept hold of to shake the exit switch, and Lost Balance Brutus had me over.
The urine ended up on the carpet with me!
Cartilage Chloe, Arthur Itis Len on the left knee, and bashing my arm against the chair as I fought my way back onto my feet after the tumbled, offered as much pain as I ever want to handle again. The day was going so well, as well!
However, it worsened even further for the knees and back. All that bending to soak up the wee as fast as I could. It took me ages to get it anywhere near dry. 
Then, I sprayed the fabric conditioner and fresh air spray around, I on the corner of the ottoman. Aargh! Needless to say, !

Then, as I recovered from the incident and had cleaned it up as best I could, I returned to blogging. Shot up the leg, as far as my groin. Fair enough, they eased off a lot, and were barely reaching the knee. Then the shocks cut out, and cold tingling sensation took over.

Sister Jane rang. We had a natter. She has glaucoma now, bless her. We spoke about football and swapped tales from the past.

I went to put the thin dressing gown on the kitchen window, as the sun was blooming again. I rechecked the stew, nowhere near ready yet, might be an hour or two at least. I left it on high.

Went on the WR Reader, then the comments.

I’ll have to have the meal after the Carer has been. It’ll never be ready in time to eat it first. This leaves me with the pressure (not really) of remembering to put on the night catheter pouch. What am I saying. I am a fool! Somehow, I thought it was 20:45, and it isn’t. It’s 16:45! And it’s the third visit!

Bootiful Puffer Clouds.

I went to get some more cleaners to try again at removing the accidental urine Accifauxpa scent from the carpet.
And found the Rhodesian (as was, it’s now Zimbabwe) police officer truncheon. 1962 I got this.

Joe, then Ejaz made the last two calls.

Grammarly is not working properly; no spell checks are being made. 

NOSH

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TTFN, Each! 
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