The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe

Inchie Today: Thursday 19th March 2026

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06:15hrs: The rib injury was bad to start with. Large intakes of breath, coughing, laughing, all hurt. Pouch taken off. I took a snap of the morning kitchen view.
Any of the following may be out of sync, for vagarity and confusion spread their wings. Until , when the electrical and technological problems all arrived one after the other. I panicked and rang Jenny, my Angel, to ask her to please call the computer man in the morning. As per usual, her logic and understanding were perfect. She read the stress in my voice. Calmly telling me to turn everything off until morning and try again. Which I did, and it came back on. Albeit with different, too small icons that I struggle to see. At least now I can cross my fingers (well, I can’t actually, but I can figuratively) and see how it goes.
Thanks to Jenny. 🤎

Whatever is under my man breast that appeared yesterday, the top picture taken by my Carer Ejaz, this morning, showed a great improvement, and the bleeding had stopped altogether. I can’t say the same for the rib cracking. This remains a blinding, blooming nuisance. I can’t see any bruising at all. But when it happened, I was bending to retrieve a dropped remote, and felt pain and heard a sort of grinding noise. I think it must have been a rib causing the problem. It is the same today (Fri), the slightest bend, stretch, even when I press down on the walking stick it hurts. Yet not moving, sitting down, unless I stretch my arm out or up, there is no bother? Which is excellent, because I’ve got a Little Inchies fungal lesion going through agony as well, from the refitted Catheter tube.  
No more moans, I promise: well, I’ll try. Haha!

Belatedly made a start on Wednesday’s blog. Talk about a backlog, I’ve got an ever-increasing backlog of backblog blogs to do. 😄

Carer Rashid changed the leathery, crocodile-like legs. Well, more ankles now. Foamed them and rubbed in ointment in the cracks.

The sun broke through as it rose behind the prison, offering me a photo opportunity. Oh, prison? I meant to write block of flats. Or did I?

Ejaz was pleased with how the hand injury was now healing and was now awaiting the scab to fall off.
He offered to pick it off for me, jokingly, of course.

Then the computer froze!
First, as I was in CorelDraw, which often does this to me. I knew it would not let me save the work I’d done. Depressing, more time lost! I could not close the programme either. Cursing and praying it would come back on, I turned off the power. 
Gave it ten minutes or so, and rebooted.

Opened CorelDraw… message told me this file is not saveable – you can work on it, but not save your work – something like that. So, I closed it again.

Then I turned off the computer properly and restarted Windows. What a mess. All the widows’ desktop icons were so minuscule that it was impossible to identify which was which. All off again.

All on Again. The icons were even smaller this time. I upended CorelDraw, this time it opened the last edited without any warning messages… Ahahaha! Great.
An hour later, all the things became unresponsive, bar the mousse, but clicking on anything on the CorelDraw page produced various different, some never been seen before options, but never the binding box.
I decided that I’d close CorelDraw down, and ring Angel Jenny to ask her to call Asif, the computer man, for me, as this problem, or I should add solution, was well out of my reach. I opened Google to search for advice…
ARRGH!
I could not input any text in the search bar at all!
Clicking to open programme icons, nothing!

I turned everything off again and walked away.
I was distraught to say the least. Angry, Frustrated, Sorry-for-myself… pathetic really.
Depression grew even stronger now. I felt so low, and yet I took two photographs as I wandered hobblingly around the cell… no… the flat.
My mind went from raging to almost crying, and a loathsome self-hatred joined in. I felt what I was, I’m afraid, so sad!

Later, after a good while of musing and confusing myself, I returned to the computer. I knew it was not going to work, yet still I gave it a go. Huh!
This time, the desktop icons were all over the place, and still too tiny to identify. I tried Google, Notepad, Corel ’rotten’ Draw, and MS Word. And the screens started to shudder a little. But this could have been due to Galucoma Glady’s, Cataract Katie, or my being in such an uptight condition, my Neurotransmitters. Turned everything off yet again and left it. 

I called Jenny 🤎 to ask her to please contact Asif for me. The connection was not good; I struggled with the fast speech and an echo on the line.
I think Jen advised me to turn everything off, which I had been doing for the last three hours, Hahaha! Jenny said she leaves hers off overnight, and it can come back on in the morning. I felt so tense, so I decided to do that and try it in the morning.

To keep my mind off of the computer, I got the meal prepped. Ejaz called and served it up. But it feels all wrong eating with someone sitting there on their mobile phone, making a report. Nothing wrong with it, but for years I’ve lived and eaten on my own, and the habit of eating while watching a TV programme is part of my way of preparing for sleep, I suppose. Also, I forgot to take a photo of the nosh.

After finishing the meal, after Ejaz left, saying he would lock the door for me, bless him, I went to wash the pots, and just had to take these snaps of the latter part of the sunset.
A warmth emanated from the view, with maybe perhaps including a hint of a threat? 

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Can it get any worse?
Have I been given a curse?
Why am I penning this verse?
Cause my problems are diverse?
BrainStorm, thinking in Morse?.
Who can help with my annoyances?
Starmer, Einstein or Zeus?
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Inchie: Wednesday 18th March 2026

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It will save me a lot of time in my efforts to catch up if I mention things that took place here and include the few photos taken afterwards, with a little detail where I can remember anything. Which is not a lot.
Up at 06:30hrs. Pouch taken off – Ocado order arrived.
Carer Rashid. Feet done, meds. According to my notes, the next item was… bintop usl nurse, bnge log?
Blog, Carer Mizra called to tell me the extra hours start this week. Offered to make a meal, but I thanked him, not feeling hungry at all. Mizra did a mail-check. One, I think, is needed by Deana or NCC’s Assessment. I must find out from Deana, I must. An NCC form to be filled in online. Mizra said we’d do it later, together.
He also said we would go shopping together in Sherwood sometime. Mizra took the laundry down, and Jenny, my Angel, bless her, will sort it from there. Frank is bringing it back up for me. Mizra changed the day Catheter, from a butterfly to the last T-tap one. Ordered some more via the District Nurses. Bless him.
Nurse two. Window cleaners arrived. £12 for cleaning the balcony pod. Nice lads.
CorelDraw problems, that cost me 2 hours to get right… Well, I say right, it went again in the evening, and I had to leave it and cross fingers I could remember what I did last, it froze… Getting myself confused here.
Frank returned the laundry for me, all Jeny-folded and properly dried. Thank you, Jenny, my Angel.
Another bit of guesswork or translation is needed on the next line of the notepad; Best my evening -time eyes could make out, of what I’d written: Bert (likely best?), robs mosd fod gle?/t, hop. I spent a while trying to work out what I meant, and gave up.
The next lines were as plain as brass! Written with a pressed-on pen and in much larger writing.
“ARRGH!” I bent forward to pick up the TV remote to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the box. Pulling it out of the chair sleeve, visited and I dropped it back into the sleeve. I quickly bent further in an effort to grab it again, and I felt and heard a short crunching sound from the left ribcage. That was without my hearing aids in. Oh, by gum, it did hurt! It still does, 16 hours later! I gave up on the computer; even moving my left arm to type was too painful. I’m naming it “Rib Cracking Ruby”. I’m praying it will have eased in the morning. (it didn’t!) Ejaz later took a shot of it.
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Morning view.

What a load of laundry to get done.
Thanks to Jenny & Frank, all got done.


The last food delivery was delivered to me.
I hope, at least. To be going out to the shops, or am I hoping for too much here?

Scars from whatever happened as I bent down to get the TV remote. Confused? So was I when I first looked at this photo. The blue bits on top are Carer Ejaz’s gloves. He was holding up my left man-breast to get at the ribs for a photograph. I assume it is internal bleeding caused by the rib cracking.
I get pain whenever I move, to varying degrees from “Rib Cracking Ruby”, when I put pressure on either walking stick, she stings as well. When I lift, stretch or bend even in the slightest bit, I’ve got new ailment,  “Rib Cracking Ruby”, old ailments “Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley” and “Back-Pain-Brenda” giving me stick.
As I was typing this, “Anne Gyna” kicked off!
Unease expands and thrives uncontrollably as I struggle with whether to call 111.
After my last two experiences at A&E, the last thing I want to do is go there. It will involve me washing and shaving, getting dressed, and catching a bus and then a tram to get there. Last visit, it was stored for 18 hours in a corridor before I got to see a Doctor. So, you can see my concerns and doubts. Then, after 23 hours in the hospital, I got sent home at 01:30 hours, with no money for a taxi, no buses.
I  think it’s best to give it a day or two to see if things improve. Fingers crossed. Well, I would cross them but for “Colin Cramps” & “Arthur Itis”.

Still, on the bright side… erm… er… like, well, 
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🌻 Thanks for viewing 🌻
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Inchie: Tue 17 March 2026. Bloodied (3) & Wee’d on (2).

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Such a busy, calamity-ridden day today.
I have just got around to creating this blog, and it is Wednesday, 18 March 12:30hrs. And has started as an even busier day. Confusion reigns. Hopes destroyed, Brainbox baffled. A smidge fed-up.
BUT, I MUST CONCENTRATE ON TODAY’S BLOG
Try to avoid chronological and fact mix-ups. Shortage of time means cutbacks on detail again.
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05:00hrs: I leapt out of the bed, yodelling as I removed the Catheter night bag. Then the innards demanded that I attend the
ASAP. So, I did. The flow began, the flow continued, on and on and on… During the longest ever flow of semi-liquid I’ve ever had, I remembered I had a food delivery arriving. I thought I’d mention this to anyone who knows me and my conditions, so I can brag, for once. 👍🏼 Hehe!

Into the kitchen to take some snaps of the view on offer.
Not very good efforts, but I did my best. Then washed the pots, left in the sink from last night’s evening meal. Then back to the
. Where was it all coming from? Got my ablutions done while in the wet room. Cleaned the teggies first, then had a wet shave (3 cuts, little nicks really).
Cleaned and medicated or Little Inchies bleeding fingal lesion. Lost a good bit of blood this time.   
A third visit, this time, Trotsky Terence was overcome by Constipation Colin. A complete reversal. So much so, the next thing was Harold-Haemorrhoids bleeding! But today’s habit of bleeding had only just started.

The memory notes are getting harder to decipher now; from here on, they mysteriously grow smaller. Some of them were unreadable. I made no guesses. I just skipped them.

As I was making a brew of Co-op 99 tea, guess what I needed again? The ! Yet another turnaround, back to Trotsky Terence mode! And a lot of it. I am beginning to worry about these changes so regularly, and on the same day. The blood had gone onto the Kaghoule, and I had to change it. Putting it in the already full laundry bag.

08:10hrs. The Carer arrived. Checked the ankles and, as he changed the Catheter to make it less painful, noted blood on the PPs from Harold’s Haemorrhoids. And the new scar on the Catheter leg. He creamed it and photographed it.
Just to prove that I am a bit of a high-quality, dimwitted twit, I lost my reading glasses. I did a thorough search, but it proved unsuccessful. Which is me all over.

Carer Mizra called to tell me the extra hours start this week. Offered to make a meal, but I thanked him, not feeling hungry at all. I explained the problems with the butterfly catheters. He said he would sort it later on in the week. 

The blood sample taker arrived, and while she was here, Carer Rashid arrived. A smidgeon of confusion between the three of us cost me dearly.
She did not press and hold the cotton wool on long enough, and a few minutes later, I felt the warm liquid, formerly known as blood, as it trickled down my arm on the inside and spread over the new dressing gown. By the time I’d got it off, unaided, I may add, blood was all over my arm, leg and right foot. Mostly, though, on the new dressing gown. This is the third dressing gown today, and the second kaghoule that I’ve had to take off and put into the laundry bag! Lucky? Me? No, more Accifaupas to come yet, the day is not done…

Carer Ejaz sneaked this photo of yours truly, the luckiest man alive. I was battling with the computer to get it to respond to my requests. So, I took one back of him as he was making his report of this visitation. A handsome young brute of a lad. Looks like a male model to me. Jealous? Me? Well, maybe just a little tiny, weeny bit. Haha!

I took this snap from the kitchenette window, of the slowly darkening skies. Then had to hastily shoot off, yet again, to the . And would you believe it, was back in charge of the evacuation process? With a well-watery squirting out session that pebble-dashed the porcelain, and bounced back on my bottom! I don’t suppose you needed to hear that. Sorry. Took me an aeon to get cleaned up again.

I went to make a rare-today mug of Glengettie, as my eyes grew tireder and blurrier as the evening dawned, followed by, and I finally got on WordPress.

I found the unreadable notes and gave up until tomorrow, with the idea of writing a blog. However, I did make a start on the Ode, using MS Word. After an hour or so, I realised that I had a wet right leg. I investigated the Catheter, but all seemed okay. Puzzled, I put it down to sweat and carried on. 
After a while, my groin felt wet, so I investigated again.
ARGGH!
It was the new Catheter the nurse fitted, with the top connector near the groin, that came off this time! By now, I realised the slipper sock and foot were soaked. Lucky? Me?
ARGGH!

TTFN

Inchie Today: Monday 16th March 2026

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0630hrs: I removed the nocturnal Catheter pouch and bounded out of my bed… Well, to be more accurate, painfully slowly got my legs on the floor and did my balance exercises. This indicated care was needed in standing and hobbling about this morning. To err on the safe side, I sat down on the bed and gave it about 10 minutes before trying again. Much better.
I picked up the night bag and changed plans as the innards indicated an urgent need, which was virtually on the way, to use the services of the Porcelain Throne.
I made it in time, but only just. As I bent to connect my bottom to the plastic lid, the orange-coloured torrent began flowing. Messy again. I used that much toilet roll, the bum was sore as Hell by the time I’d cleaned things up. And the Anusol ointment tube was almost empty after use. A quick wash, teggies, olive-oiled the earholes, and hobbled off to make a brew of Glengettie tea.
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Took a shot from the kitchenette window. I dropped the milk getting it out of the fridge, a carton, so at least I didn’t have glass to clean up again. Splashes of its spurting milk, I reckon, were found on every wall, counter, and cabinet. Not to mention my dressing gown, legs, slippers and the floor. I now have a rather full laundry bag, after changing clothes and cleaning up. Noticing that I’d missed some milk between the cooker and the cabinet, I got a paper towel in and bent down a little to reach the stray milk…  I hit my lip on the corner of the cabinet top. Thus, started, and a cut lip. 

So, nothing unusual was happening here, yet. 

I took a snap of the end of the car park from the balcony. However, I feel I’d taken this earlier and already posted it? Hum?

A new Carer, Rashid, arrived. Helped with foot medicating and cleaning. Offered to make breakfast and a cuppa, but I’d had a cuppa and would not eat breakfast. Though I may have some bikkie dunking in Glengettie or Co-op 99 tea sessions.
I tried to get Rashid to call the Falls Team for me, but it toook a while. I thanked them for coming and agreed to their chosen day and time. Asked him to arrange for some more Anusol.

Two Nurses came in. They were going to remove the old and put in a new Catheter contraption for me.
See silly Ode. We had a laugh and a natter as they did it. It didn’t take them long this time. They walloped me on the bed and set about me. (Nice!) They got the tube back on the first try. Nice ladies.

A very interesting few lines on the memory pad here. As best I can read or guess my own handwriting & version of shorthand. Email frugle dank jen away. Purt cal on LL. Cado ord made. Must ring HRP. Nost. 1620 Ejaz bak, in trup cold happy.

Ejaz arrived as I was taking these two snaps of the late-day skies from the kitchen windows. Medications issued, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and Back-Pain-Breanda were both  Phorpain-gelled. Before leaving, Ejaz helped me get the nosh prepared, and as he went, the lad reminded me not to leave the stove on or the tap running. 
The chips were slightly undercooked, and the chicken sausages were soft and served with garden peas. This appeased a little. Then, as I left the things in the sink to soak overnight, I took a quick point-and-snap of the offer view. It was not until Tuesday that I got around to dealing with this blog, and I realised how it had come out… Artistic?
I swear there were no greens, light blues or yellows when I took the shot. Admittedly, I did it quickly without lining up as I usually would. I don’t think the moon was out either; then again, the moon doesn’t shine like that, does it?
Ah, I see repetitive sorts of lighting shapes. By Jiminne, I think I’ve worked it out, and who to thank for the artisticness . Or, with a possibility of playing a part. But the last two come under the umbrella and lack of control of  so I needn’t have said all that.

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The Nurses’ Input Helped!
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Overall, a better day… but I’m not
getting Smug, for I now know…
What will happen to me on
Monday… Much loss of blood, via
three separate Accifauxs. 
Yes, back to usual tomorrow!
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🌸 TTFNski each 🌸
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Inchie Today: Sunday 15th March 2026

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This will be a little bare, sorry. Time rules.

Morning views

I found another piece of
the jar I dropped & broke.

Carer’s medicines table

Another mystery,
Why did I take this?
Did I take this?
When?

Evening meal, soup
and bread again.
Oh, I do live well!

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Note that due to time going so fast,
being so far behind with the blog,
and time spent with the comput…
No, no, No Moaning!
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Inchie Today: Saturday 14th March 2026

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I thought I’d start this long-delayed blog off with a selfie that I took this morning. Yes, well, I may have been fibbing a smidgeon there. Look at me then, no hearing aids, had hair, had teeth, no glasses, skinny, not obese, full of hope. No electricity, no running hot water, 1d gas meter, crumbling walls, dimples, pimples, seems I was as tall as nine bricks… 
Memory Moments over, on with the blog.
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I woke up at 06:30hrs, bounded out of the bed, jumped over the recliner while taking off my night Catheter bag, landing on the recliner and bounced with a double somersault to the balcony doors, whipped open the door, and took this snap of the much flooded end car park while yodelling good morning to the world…
Oh, all right then, back to reality. But it’s a terrible thing, that’s reality, I prefer fantasy. Hehe!
I’ll start again, it’s not pretty…
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I had to force my aged, gargantuan flobby-body out of the bed, cause somehow I’d tangled the Catheter tube, and little Incies’ fungal lesion was bleeding more than usual. To the wetroom to clean things up, do my teggies and have a quick wash.
Taking this snap on the right of the end of the car park’s bigger-than-normal mudslide. They need to put wellies on to get to the car.
Off to the wetroom, hobbling casually, and the moment my bottie was over the porcelain as I was bending down to land on the plastic seat…
Whoosh, splatter, all done!
But, it wasn’t yet. Six times I had to visit today, then again when I’d got settled into the bed, get up for one yet again! My bottie is sore.

Got on the computer, and remembered to check o my NHS site to see what they have put about my tumble on Wednesday. As usual, it kept signing me out every two minutes if I didn’t enter anything. Well, I can’t remember the three links it takes to get into it, or what it is called. Humph! After getting signed out twice and having to get an email with the login number each time. I thought, I’ll try one again, one last time. No, can’t find anything. Swift visit from Carer Ejaz, Phorpain gelled the right shoulder. Medications given.
I took two snaps of the sun coming over the back left earlier, but forgot to upload them. Amazing that I should forget anything, innit?

I got on the computer with trepidation because I knew how far I was behind, and it would take me all that was left of the day to complete it (Friday’s blog). It did.

Foggy outside, usually a sign this time of year that the sun will come out later on.
I found another piece of glass from the broken jar.

I was having problems reading my own writing again. I must stop rushing and remember to write larger. I just can’t understand why I don’t, or can’t do this. The notes start all clear and so easy to read, indeed distinct. But as the day goes on, Whoopsiedangleploppery, Fred’s Frustrations, computer problems, health problems, Memory-Mangling-Malcom, Arthur Itis, Fractured Knee Frank, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Shaking Shaun, Anne Gyna, Struggling as my eyesight fades and fogs later on the day, Concentration-Crippler-Crippen, Backpain Brenda, Seizure-Sandra, Toothache-Tiffany, Ingrowing-Toenail-Tony, Earache Erasmus, Stuttering Stephany, WordPress headaches, Excel bother, CorelDraw failings, Glaucoma Gladys, Letters, Texts, Instructions & Emails that I cannot read, Deep Dank Depression Darius, Ménière’s disease, Reflux Roger, Replacement Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine, Hydrocephalus-Hilda, and Catheter-Contraption-Carol.  Neurotransmitters Dying, Lymphorrhea Leslie,, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Premordid-Cognitive- Impairment-Inchie, the brains TBI, or any of the other hassles, in any permutation, arrive daily to Woodthorpe Court Flat 72, with the mysteries of the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas strike again! 
Still, you don’t like to complain, do yer?

Late in the day, the sun did get through. When I went into the kitchen to take this shot, I was surprised it had got out. Very bright, it blinded me while taking this snap for about five minutes. Cataract Katie was most annoyed at me. Heheh

I was pleasantly surprised when my Angel called to see me, Jenny. 🤎 She thought it best not to give me her old mobile phone yet, while I was having so much hassle with so many things at the same time. Very perceptive of her. She knew that the extra tension it would cause me learning a new mobile & how it worked. She is so discerning and pragmatic. And lovely with it.

Caught the sun on her way down, with two oil paintings, like photographs around, I think 2000hrs. So much I cannot read on the notepad, hope I’ve not missed of anything important on this blog.
I must try to avoid the usual inane waffle. It’s too late now. Haha! 

Tonights Meal
Baked beans. flavoured with Gung Ho sauce, water chestnuts, cocktail sausages, and Keiklbasa chicken sausages. With some Milk Roll soft bread for dunking in the juices.
A Rating of 8.3/10

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Tara!
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Inchy: Tuesday 17th June 2025

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It’s time for me to transubstantiate…
I’ll just look the word up, mate…
Transform, metamorphose? Maybe modulate,
Life does exasperate, frustrate & aggravate,
Of course, it wasn’t like this in 1958,
Things were different back in the day,
One could write without using an apostrophe,
More social neighbours, though a clanjamfray,
I missed out on all things scholastically,
But I worked to earn, & live antediluvially,
I note that this Ode lacks articulacy,
Symmetry, logicality & although true, reality?
Sometimes, my thought box lacks adequacy,
I lose my own plots, I go self-admonishingly…
Deep into thoughts, waveringly…
It’s a strange world, brain; it didn’t used to be.
Once-certain plots fade, sometimes completely,
Crumble disappears, as does my general alacrity,
Things need to change urgently, straight away,
If seizures, concentration, recollecting, my memory…
If all my ailments can be sorted, then just maybe…,
Starting with those affecting me mentally,
Seizures and Peripheral Neuropathy,
Then I might live less forgetfully?
And those that affect my alterity,
I can live with not hearing clearly,
Glaucoma needs to be treated so I can see?
A bladder miracle so I can pee?
Anne Gyna needs pain relief urgently,
Duodenal Donald Reflux Roger, Dan Dyskinsia,
The fungal lesion on poor Little Inchie…
I’ve suffered since August 2013,
Harold’s Haemorrhoids, since 1993,
A mechanical aorta that went painfully!
I think I was coping well until I grew elderly,
Then the stroke, which left me strugglingly,
These aren’t written exactly chronologically!
District nurses call on me monthly,
For the catheter contraption swap, that hurts me,
Nurse Hristina, blood tests, she is lovely,
As is a rare caller, Matron Jackie,
The Matron came to see me today,
Tended the wound on Lymphorrhoea Leslie,
I think I may have arteriopathy.
My ambolyphy comes on earlier in the day lately,
The tiredness & weariness, earlier every day,
If you live long, then this is how you pay…
And with Arthritis, cartilage failing & FND,
Thanks to Starmer, I’ve far less money,
Gawd knows how much I owe for electricity,
But I don’t hate the dishonest backhander-taker,
Proof that I can still act astuciously?
No, I now despise and detest the bugger!

I’m so busy that I’ve fallen behind with everything. Many happenings and much confusion. I’ll have to miss some of them and shorten others. Sorry. DOUBLE SORRY! Cause I spent over 16 hours waffling on and getting new ideas, self-lambasting actually. Recalling from photos and badly scrawled notes. The odd things, like Matron doing my leg & telling me off, are clearish in my miserable memory. Hehe!

Nocturnal pouch.
Morning view.
Health Checks are all good, 
bar one BP reading.
Leg wound.
Food delivery.
Tomatoes.
More Tomatoes, cheesy rolls.
Gorgeous garden peas!
Meats, cheesy cobs.
Leg after Matron Jackie’s visit.
She worked out that the temperature
taker was out of balance and the BP 
machine needed to be thrown out or
recalibrated. The Blood Oxygen box
was okay. I’ll stop doing them now.
That should save me some time.
The Matron put some pads and a
plaster on the leg wound. Said if the 
plaster does fall off, I’m to ring the
Community number to get a nurse to
come and refit and check the leg.
A nurse will call in a few days to
see how it is. No showering for a
time now, then. The leg hurt more
after the treatment, but this was
expected, as whatever was on the
pads started to take effect. Oddly,
the electric shocks up the leg 
have kicked off again; they don’t 
half make me jump. Har-har!
Carer Ejaz, first call. Took the two bags of waste, mainly from the freezer and fridge. Outdated, to make room for the… wait for it… 10 bags of potato chunks that I’d idiotically ordered!
Life is getting a little more confusing, hard luck, mistakes & cock-up ridden!,
Sandra’s Mini Seizures played with and stayed with me as soon as I gave up on blogging, intending to make something to eat…
The memory blanks developed; I think Carer Joe helped again, but at this moment (Wednesday morning, 08:45hrs, the blanks returned. I’d just made a right clanger on the computer, and was in semi-panic mode, so this was not surprising.

Took a shot of the view late evening.
Then the tiredness and lack of concentration developed, a little later than usual.

Then, after a messy Trotsky Terence visit to the Porcelain Throne and a wash, I felt up to making something to eat.
Two delicious cheesy-topped, no-butter buttered rolls with tomatoes inside, three Silasain sausages, pickled mushrooms, last of the cooked bacon, and some of the potato chunks done in the oven. 
It tasted delicious. But my weariness must have had some effect (not half!), as halfway through eating it, I nodded off to sleep. Very fortunately, the tray was still balancing, albeit precariously, on the wobbly belly.
So, no mess to clean up! Off to the kitchen with half the cold meal on the tray, threw it away, washed up the dish and cutlery.

I then fetched the Kodak Tim from the other room and took this rather appealing photo of the sun sinking in the dark

The following events are not available.
Regular Service will be resumed as soon as possible.

Although that is a virtual impossibility, a chimaera, fantasy, flight of fancy, imaginative faculty, falsification, deception, porky-pie, terminological inexactitude, figment of the imagination, great imaginativeness. A piece of fiction, tarradiddle, buncombe, folderol, phooey, hogwash, a cruel deviation from the truth.
Nothing will ever be proper, safe, or acceptable again. Nor contain the slightest smidgeon of ambition, optimism, anticipation, aspiration, encouragement, hopefulness, hopes, confidence, and optimism will be obliterated, no longer extant, snuffed out. 
By whom or what?
I gave this some thought.
Xi Jinping, Starmer, Putin and/or Trump.
Premordid Cognitive Impairment.
Functional Neurological Disorder.
Approaching, Almost here, Armageddon.
Artificial intelligence, Climate change, Cyberattack, Environmental disaster, Nuclear war, Asteroid impact, Planetary or interstellar collision, A powerful solar flare, solar superstorm or a solar micronova, Extraterrestrial invasion, Natural pandemic,  We run out of water. Uninhabitable Universe: The ultimate fate of the universe is uncertain, but it is likely to eventually become uninhabitable. Then, there is ‘A reversal of Earth’s magnetic field’, Supervolcano Eruption, A Rogue Black Hole, Bioterrorism, Resource Depletion, Nanotechnology, and, highly likely, Bad governance from our country’s leaders.What is the biggest threat to the world?
While extinction is the most obvious way in which humanity’s long-term potential could be destroyed, there are others, including irreversible collapse and inevitable dystopia.
This little outburst from Inchy is possibly indicative of his insanity, his mental state, and perhaps assisted by his Peripheral Neuropathy, Stroke aftereffects, frustrations, inabilities, disabilities, mind-blanks, or his helplessness, hopelessness, feebleness, ineptness, maladroitness, uselessness, unsuccessfulness, worthlessness, ineffectiveness, & inadequacies?
Bad ears, eyes, ticker, Cathy Catheter, Cartilages Chloe & Carol, Arthur Itis in both knees, regular falls and dropping stuff, Dementia, old age, Anne Gyna, FND, of mayhap he’s just going bonkers?
Yes, we’ll settle for that! A Glaikit!

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Beginning to worry about me. Hehehe!
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WHAT A DAY!

Inchy: Unbelievable Tuesday 4th February 2025

/ Inchie / 16 Comments

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– – – HELP FOR ALL! – – –
There’s usually a thought worth thinking…
Until a problem arrives, more demanding,
Though factors currently depending…
On seriousness, practicality & spending,
Earlier plans may need synchronising,
The original idea may need some tweaking…
Options left available may leave you seething,
Chances of success may be receding?
Can you see where this ode is leading?
Your intentions may be beyond solving,
But you’ve got me sympathising,
You must be realising…
I do not want to be scaremongering,
Needs, desires, once so promising,
Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising,
If possible, they need reorganising,
These failures will be nauseating,
Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening,
No need for any self-admonishing…
Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing…
We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing,
I’m pretty good at motivating…
You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing!
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06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻 

Then things started to get farcical!
The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working.
JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. 
They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery.
I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time!
The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed.
This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows!
Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘

Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!

Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.

Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card.
I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour.
If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in Porc failedan unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!

The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?

The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.

Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.

I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.

Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting.
A wide shot, the top one.
Pretty really!
I zoomed in to get a close-up.
Strangely, this one came out alright, too.

The next job was to get something to eat.
Which I did.
Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault!
I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! 
Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! 
I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!

Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.

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SO FAR THIS YEAR…
A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost! 
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly!
The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular!
I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems.
Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent.
Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups.
Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time?
Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. 
Can’t get any help!
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I am struggling all around, losing ground…
Things going wrong… others compound,
Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned…
The end is high; I’ll be bound!
I’m sick of being flatbound.
The sanity I once foreowned…
Has departed, and I’m all alone,
With help, my confusion to unconfound…
For solutions to confusion, I toss around,
But my brain is now thought-barren ground,
Ever more problems to confound…
Will I take them with me to my burial ground?
Frustrations are just grinding me down!
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KEEP SAFE, FOLKS!
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Inchy: Friday & Saturday 23-4th November 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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The memories recalled, but only just,
I think it may have been 1972, in August…
I met and was mauled by an anaesthesiologist,
Stabbed by an acupuncturist.
This year, I was robbed by an oligarchist,
Who goes by the name of Starmer!
Known as the proletariat’s financial amputator,
His first job as PM put pensioners asunder,
Raised taxes for every farmer,
Who accepted far too many a backhander…
He is still the Labour leader,
Money from anywhere he can acquire,
To his many wrongs, he’s not a conceder,
Because he is such an arrogant bleeder…
A perfect match to be a Tory Prime Minister,
He’s although blunt, he’s a clever circumventor…
Lies directly, by omission, a fibbing blatherer,
I bet he’s never been a TV renter,
Cause self-wealth is at his centre…
Working persons new tax inventor,
Bet he gets a free haircut from his barber!
His taxes put an end to improving agriculture,
He’s just like a greedy vulture!
His ruthlessness gives me acroparesthesia,
It’s like he got into power with tabula nasa,
Apart from filling his bank account whenever,
To morals & sympathy, he is a denyer,
I wonder if his stockings are 15 denier?
I doubt his calculations, cogitation, & dedication…
I wonder at times if he is just an apparition…
Sent by Putin, to do our economy in?
Or maybe a Right-Wing Martian?
He’s certainly caused political confusion,
Are, to Keir, old labour values an illusion?
Voters want action with anti-depression,
Not an HMG leader like an automaton!
It could all end with a revolution!
Maybe it can be stopped by a coalition,
But he doesn’t need my permission…
But he can have my commiseration,
HMG UK is leading to deterioration,
Sooner the better, for the voting disillusioned
That Starmer is toppled & decommissioned!
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Ah, a bit better colour!

Terrible photo!

Waste bags condensed.

Evening mug of Glengettie tea.

Blue evening views

Four big cob sarnies. But they were too big for me to manage. Waste not, want not; I bagged them, put them in the fridge, and ate them on Saturday. They were pork loin with robust cheddar cheese, no-butter butter, sliced tomatoes, and chestnuts. No finger cuts were sustained. 

Got more photos saved to go on tonight!
Smug-Mode-Adopted!

Note the deliberate spelling mistake? Ahem!

Gawd, I hate Starmer!
I don’t think I’m on my own.

A large rise in cases percentage-wise!

I did a bit of research later for the odd below above!

All was normal here.

Slightly darker this morning.

My morning shots are getting atrocious!

Yesterday, I, Sherlock Holmesianly, searched for the signs of which houses are growing Cannabis in their lofts.
Today, it became apparent. Hehehe!

I’m unsure how I did it, but I got the battery-powered can opener to work!

Snowgoinger! Haha!

No TV. No landline phone. No Panic Alarm Working.
NO INTERNET! For 5+ hours.
Still, as long as the owners of Virgin, Liberty-Global, keep paying their CEO a phenomenal salary. Indeed, they will remain the supreme, cunning, lying Oligarchs they are. Trying to cancel their service, with their clause making us pay £100s to do so, requires someone with the following skills and can afford a barrister, a mathematician, & Einsteinian genius.
If one does escape their financial and incapable service, one may try EE, 3, Vodafone, BT, UPC Broadband, 02, ITV plc, or  Sirius—all of which Liberty-Global either owns or has investments in! We can’t win!.
But Liberty-Global Always Do! (Spit!)

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TTFNski

Iliad Inchy: Saturday 16th November 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi,
He was not soul-collecting, he called socially,
I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023,
He said he was depressed but very busy,
North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine,  
Available Souls to collect rises again…
Gaza, so many humans getting slain,
Children starving, dying in pain,
There is no world affability or affinity,
Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity,
Politicians without any accountability,
No shortage of greed or ambivalency,
Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy…
Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll,
War children build themselves a bolthole,
Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole,
Free murderers, with a legal loophole,
Killers, murderers given parole, 
We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl,
Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole,
Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal,
Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole!
I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…”
Dying must surely be more peaceful?
Is heaven extraterrestrial?
Was humankind meant to be experimental,
I sense that we are all fossiliseable,
Well, of course, anything is possible…
Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal,
This starts when they are foetal,
Anklesnappers turn into people,
They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical,
Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ,
You see, but you don’t know what to do…
Your hopes for happiness are exhausted,
Your faith in humankind has vegetated…
Your lust for life has withered…
The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated,
Your caring nature has been exploited,
Life itself, you’ve never bested,
Truth is, you are no longer interested…
You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested,
You’ve not changed, but the world has altered,
You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted…
This earth has been maladministered,
Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered!
And pensioners he has murdered…
Yet Starmer remains undeterred,
Wait for him in hell to see him burn!
Then your sense of humour can return!
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Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of 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, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty  Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my .
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!

Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.

I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away.
The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two.
Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.

Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.

When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.

My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!

I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?

The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.

I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.

Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot, bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!

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TTFN.