– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
TUESDAY 13th OCTOBER 2026
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
0525hrs: I woke up, smelled myself, and got up without any delay and went to the wet room. No, no, no! I’d not poo’d myself; I just noticed I had bad B.O.
I also noticed I had regrowth on my chest & a bulging tummy of freckles and tiny 
bursting pimples. The Carer took a snap of them later.
Then the call to the Porcelain Throne developed, with an added gurgling rumble; so I had to move quickly!
Emptying the pouch, I saw the dreaded signs of another bladder flow-back coming.
More of furry bits of the blasted Prostate, which tells me problems are brewing.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Banged into the ottoman on the way back to the front room. Another bruise on the knee, and the scab from the previous knocking into or over something.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
PROBLEM ONE: I got 3 emails saying the Catheter contraption spares are to be delivered today. With the intercom still not working and no signs of it being done, I decided I had to go 
down yet again to the lobby to await its arrival at the start of the two-hour window given to me. So, I did! (Old photo used), since I didn’t take the camera.
After and short wait, the van arrived. The driver was not in a good mood – my EQ advised me to be kind to him; he was definitely tense over something. He didn’t say much, but he didn’t need to; I got his vibes, poor chap. Back up in the flat, he put the box in the doorway; I thanked him and shot off.
PROBLEM TWO: I foolishy bent down to lift the box, and took it through and onto the bed, for the next Carer to sort out for me. As I bent again to place the box on the bed, Snap! My back went! The agony continued for several hours before the blessed snapping-back into position came while I was sitting on the loo! I can’t complain; this is the first time it’s gone in… well, at least 6 months, if not longer.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Ejaz came and checked the contents: nocturnal pouches and day pouches, both with T-tap closures, day bag straps and Catheter top strap. Insert the tubes and vital pain-gel into Little Inchie before inserting the new tube, or when changing the whole contraption. I think they now realise and expect, as I do, that I’m going to get flowback agony again and need it released more often than ever. I think the fluffy bit coming out in the urine is because it’s bound to block it again eventually. I cringe at the thought of the pain I get when this happens.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
PROBLEM THREE: I wanted to call the Surgery to say the INR Warfarin test was not done yesterday. I also wanted to speak with them about the text message saying I have to go to the Surgery or hospital to have it done tomorrow and that I must take a Carer with me. I wanted to explain the problems with taxi costs, Carer costs, and that I can’t get extra calls without a few days’ notice anyway (Basically).
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I emailed Jenny about my problem. (She’s so knowledgeable, and I always ask her for guidance, which she gives freely 💗.) She advised me to email the Surgery. So, I did!
I bothered Jenny again, and she gave me links to find out why the message was blocked. I clicked…
Ah, now I know. Thanks, Jenny💜
Found this at the bottom of the page…
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
BOOKING AN APPOINTMENT if you dare!
Couldn’t Be Simpler (I lie!)
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
CONFUSING PROBLEM FOUR: Still unsolved.
Complicated too. A phone call: I received it from the Doctor’s Surgery. They said they had arranged a COVID injection, gave me a date, and they would do it at the flat. Great so far… It got me in a tizzy when she added, “We couldn’t arrange yesterday’s Warfarin INR blood test.”
“So you will have to come into the surgery, or go to the QMC hospital to have it taken”.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was stunned. A semi-panic started to grow.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Then, in the early evening, I got another call from the Surgery. They asked if the Carer was there. I told her she’d just missed him. Asked me to make sure they ring the Surgery in the morning; it is important. I said I would.
But of course, I might forget. So I wrote on the whiteboard: “Carer: Please ring Surgery this morning”. Well, he might see it; it’s written big enough.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I detected a lot of furry bits of Prostate when I emptied the day bag. Not a self-assuring thing to find. I must pass this on to the District Nurses when they come.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was getting irritable with things and myself. It’s a bloody good thing that I had no idea what was about to happen tomorrow. Although, with my luck, does it matter?
I gave up on starting this blog. I was so fed up, frustrated 
, and greatly depressed. Not to mention how tired and confused I was of today’s events. I turned of the computer and went into the kitchenette to make a meal.
My version of a vegetable curry. I put a can of ready-made veg curry (J. Sainsburies) in the pan. I added a tin of garden peas, then some chopped water chestnuts.
I found a carrot in the fridge, sliced it very thinly, and added it to the pot. Seasonings added: mild curry powder, soy sauce and a splash of teriyaki sauce.
Fingers crossed. 🤞🏼
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I emailed Jenny back, and while the meal was cooking, I took the boxes with the padding to the waste chute. Coming back to the flat, my right leg gave way without any warning (shaking) or time to prepare. But no bother, I threw myself in the corner of the recessed lift doors, and avoided going down on the hard floor or having to press my wristlet alarm. Mind you, they wouldn’t have heard me anyway at that distance. The bigger bonus was not going to the hospital to be ignored, then mauled. Plus, 
no damage to the Catheter or leaking! Yes, a bit of good luck there! No doubt! Back limpingly to the flat, and took a snap of the view from the kitchen window
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Then, tucked into the meal nice and early. Slurp!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Prem arrived as I was washing the pots. A good lad. He removed my diabetic socks, fetched the torch which had had its solar panel in the kitchen window through the day. Got it in my dressing gown pocket. Asked if I’d eaten, pain killers given, and did a Catheter check.
Took this Snap of the same angle as the earlier one. I’m not getting on with these new Kodaks, disappointed.
Then I got things ready to sit down and put on the TV. 💤
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
My mind wandered back to the last QMC Visit.
My Catheter was getting blocked every 2 weeks. District nurses are finding it harder and harder to get back in; the pain increases with each attempt. On the last try, they could not get it back in, and the bladder was filling and, oh, so painful. I was told that this is a medical emergency (as if I didn’t know). I had to go to QMC A&E. I had to get a taxi to A&E for future blockages. More spending, reducing my dwindling funds. Jenny said it costs about £15 each way. I had to go to QMC straight away. Carer Ejaz was in the flat and got me dressed.
Got me in the taxi; off I went alone. I had to use coins to make up the £30. Traffic lights out, roadworks… it cost me £25.40 just getting there, so I didn’t have enough dosh to get back. At the A&E, I booked in. The receptionist looked up my details and asked, “Which Carer is with you, Ejaz or Mirza?” I told her neither, as this was a medical emergency, and I can’t produce a Carer with 15 minutes’ notice. I couldn’t afford one anyway. “Why do you pay for them?” I had no answer.
I sat down. I was called for a BP and Q&A session by a kind nurse, then sat down again. Eventually, a man came out to collect me, and I waited in another waiting room. Signed in and sat down. Then the most embarrassing thing happened: the fungal lesions on the penis started spraying urine and blood into my PP’s, and I could feel it going down my legs into my shoes. I’d taken a roll of kitchen towels and tried to hide in a corner while I stemmed the flow. I asked an attendant where the WC was. She said if I left now, I might miss my call. I quickly explained my problem. Told me the WC was near the Q&A entry doors where I came in.
I struggled with the walker through the corridors, sweating and fearing the blockage and leak might take me over. Got to the bog, found it unoccupied, and went straight in. The floor was completely covered in an inch-deep liquid; there was no soap, no toilet rolls and no paper towels.
Hobbled back to the room I was in, got lost en route, recovered, and the attendant told me I’d missed my call, to sit down again and wait. The urine was still trickling out, and I’d used all of my kitchen roll, as a Doctor came out & called my name.
He took out the old-fashioned Catheter and tried twice to insert the new hooked one, but failed. This boded badly for the future. He got on his phone, then took me through the corridors to another room and a medic, a Mr Someone. He was just getting his coat on to go home, so was not exactly in a jovial mood. Even he took twice as long to get the tube back in. He shot off. Apart from telling me not to let the sticky pod which held the new tube array on my leg come off. No tips on whether or when there was a schedule change, when maintenance visits would happen, or what types of pouches I should use. I felt a little uncared for. But that soon changed when I hobbled back to the big waiting area with my walker; by a bit of good luck, I spotted the lady who took my BP six hours ago when I arrived,t and gave her a quick version of my problems, including not having enough money for a taxi. She said I’ll be back in a minute; take a seat. (I did a lot of seat-taking that day) She returned to tell me she had arranged a lift for me. Minutes later, lift drivers came and put me into an ambulance. Being put in first indicated I was going to be dropped off last. Thanks to the kind nurse, I got a free late lift home. Bless her 💜 after about nine hours overall being out of the flat.
I printed this again. Hehehe! Sorry.
=====================================
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Stayed up until 03:00hrs to get this done
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The Nottingham Lads True Tales of Woe
Inchie Today: Monday 13th October 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
MONDAY 13TH OCTOBER 2026
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
START TO THE DAY
I stirred at 0620hrs, feeling rather perky; that lasted a few minutes while I climbed out of the hospital bed and did my balance checks… Then hastily hobbled to the Porcelain Throne.
Although I made it in time, seconds to spare before the torrent blasted out of its own accord. The pebble-dashed bowl, combined with the stink, and worse, cleaning up of the mess, took me ages.
During the morning, follow-ups were frequent.
I kept a note of them on the pad. When Ejaz arrived, I took this snap of the visits paid. All the same style.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Andrew arrived. His usual self again. On his phone and ignoring me as I spoke to him. Medications given; pain cel slapped on my back, onto his phone. No body check. No Catheter contraption check. Or Barrier cream checks. Not that it mattered much; Carer Prem did them all on his shorter visit last night.
Very frustrating, and I’ve heard nothing of the request to have the three good lads service me. At times like this I’m tempted to cancel them altogether and struggle on my own. But that was a stupid idea. They have me figuratively by the balls. Only when the three good lads call do I cheer up, but, of course, they don’t call at all later in the week or over the weekend. I’m paying a fortune but not getting the service they say I’m getting.
Unglefrogwonglingisations!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I was pressing on, then Ejaz arrived; great to have him talk about what needs doing, and caring too.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
As he left, the dreaded confusion came over me like a blanket of unhappiness. I was incapable of doing much at all. My own thoughts were hard to gather and form into any kind of logic. I gave up on the computer and hoped to get some used cartoons later to make up for not waffling of much of usual.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Inchie Today: Tuesday, 25th August 2026
.- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TUESDAY 25th AUGUST 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:35hrs: I stirred back into ersatz, pretend life. Wriggled and rolled a little to test out which ailments might be the most painful, in my effort to dismount the hospital bed and get my nocturnal Catheter pouch off. The outcome was rather less than expected. The new magic neck pain, the discomfort of the day Catheter tubing, and Anne Gyna were the only ones sensed.
Colin Cramps and a few seizure aftertastes, which had been waking me up so often overnight, had dissipated altogether. Nice!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I managed to get up, sort the pouches out, and do a safety check of the flat for taps left running and fridge/freezer doors open. Then got the kettle on. Doing these little tasks, I had to make three visits to the Porcelain Throne in 15 minutes. Constipation Conrad in total charge.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Andy arrived in a perky but reluctant mood. Medications were issued, but we could not find any codeine tablets. We both searched through the medical prescription and Over-the-counter medicine drawers. Andrew said he had informed his head office about them. I got the waste bins into one large bag. It’s still there now (2040hrs).
Carer departed, and I had another dock-hard, Haemorrhoid-tearing visit to the Throne.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The expected delivery from Morrisons arrived. I tell you now to get the embarrassment over quickly; Today, I made super-cock-ups with the food orders. Arithmophobia and my stupidity are what I put the blame on. Maybe Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, Inchie. I was utterly disgusted with myself. The idea of doing an order to cover three weeks seemed so clever at the time. All three came on the same day; Today! Understandably, people complain about my stupidity in doing the things I do. But I simply cannot help it; in a way, it is not me doing these and other daft & dangerous things. But I still do them. Now Morrison, then came Asda, and finally the Iceland deliveries! It hurts, frustrates and annoys me doing them. No particular depression, just self-loathing.
I’d prefer to not mention them again, please. Thanks.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The new Warfarin INR blood results came in the post; that was quick. New doses confirmed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Mirza visited. Checked LV house content problem, and I called Complex Warden Deana and asked Mirza to talk with her about the lower cost of NCC insurance. Not sure what happened. Just had a seizure while writing this. Memory Mangling Malcolm? Mirza fitted a new Catheter on the right leg this time.
He then took the laundry down to the laundrette. Then he mopped the kitchen floor for me.
Then went down to put the clothes in the dryer. Did the safety checks and hoovered up. Checked the drawers to see if the missing Codeine tablets were there, but no.
Then he went down to collect the laundry.
While he was out, more food arrived, and I was having difficulty getting all the canned food on the top shelf of the double cupboard.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I got the shakes while reaching up to put the cans on the top shelf and knocked about eight of them off onto the floor! Some bounced of the hard-top counter, but one of 
them, a can of new potatoes, took the more direct route, via hitting my right shin, then to the floor.
At this point the self-cursing started, as Carer Mirza returned with the washing.
He cleaned up a 
scrape wound and put some Germolene and a plaster over it. Saved the day again. Mirza did another grand job of caring for me today.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
How did I take this photo with no camera?
Well, as soon as Mirza departed, Amazon delivered the camera. I can’t photograph it, but I’ll ask a Carer later to take one on his mobile and email it to me. Like any other childlike 81-year-old with a new toy, I decided to set up and use the new camera. As recommended by Carer Ejaz: “It would be a good idea to get the same model as before; otherwise you’ll get in a pickle with the new contraptions and workings of a different one” Very good suggestion, mate; a wise idea. Thanks!
So, after setting it up but entering the wrong date and not remembering how I set it in the first place, I gave up and got on with taking some sky-cloud shots.
Here is my first effort…
Almost square shape?
Nice views though
The trees are begging to look greener!
Caught the balconies on this one.
Then back to try and set a wider
view for the snaps.
I attempted to read the instructions…
Writing was too small
So to change, on the fly…
Aha, I cracked it…
Can you see the animal’s head?
General Degaul in this one?
The worms?
From the kitchen window, this one
A smug mode developed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I mentioned that I do some acts almost like a remote control, unthinkingly, and I told the Doctor at Haywood Hospital about this trait acquired months ago.
Well, me making this a great dollop come mound; this agglomeration, hodgepodge of a gigantic meal, is a perfect example of what can happen when something in my head tells me not to bother and to press on. Worrying.
It consisted of Mushroom pâté, chicken lumps, tomatoes, carrots, garden peas, soft cheese, curly fries, pork & pickle mini pies, cheese & onion bread, cooked beef, gherkins, and potatoes!
Needless to say, I could not eat it all, and must have binned two-thirds of it. I recall eating all of the mushroom pâté, the peas & carrots, the bread and the potatoes.
Then washed the dishes, etc., and moved on to an ice
cream cornet & lemon curd dessert?
Then put the TV on early to watch the Nottingham Forest match against Leeds Utd. (Sister Jane called to remind me it was on ITV). I stayed awake up to half-time, and the adverts came on. Zzz! Waking up in a seizure a couple of hours later, still TV on and the volume louder… Sorry, neighbours. I think going into a home might help me; I’m not coping well.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchie: Sunday, 5th April 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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 Today: Friday 3rd April 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Apart from not finding my reading glasses, 
it gave me pain,
, and being desperate to get to the … Oh, and instantly worrying about whether the computer will be working, 
I woke up in a reasonable frame of mind. I had to drag the nocturnal Catheter bag along as I hastened to the wet room, messy!
were then tackled. First job was removing the might pouch, emptying it, wrapping it and putting it into the yellow waste bag.
I tackled things in a different order today.
I washed the legs I could reach and moved the Catheter Contraption to the left leg. Medicated some strop bleeding areas, and did a body scrub.
Then back on the WC, in time to catch the follow-through from the last passing. Better take one of the anti-Trots capsules, methinks.
Then did the teggies, and on to shaving. 
When I’d finished all the shaving, I found not a single nick or cut!
Carer Rachid arrived. I asked for help dressing, but got none. He stood there as I had to bend to get the things on his mobile, filling in details I assumed.
Off he trotted, as I was getting the computer on. Same as the last three days: since the Google update came in, it’s taken me several tries, using different methods of opening Google, to get it to come on. Rashid watched and suggested the new icon, which was the only one I’d not tried, and it came on after a bit of flashing. I lost far too much time. I got carried away when I found an old word list and started to update it. I reckon it took me at least three hours to get it done. Then, I used it to create part of the Ode of the day.
By then, the next Carer arrived.
Then, I had a mini-seizure, I think, that lasted for about two minutes at most. But could I recover from it and regain my concentration? No! I gave up on doing the blog and put the computer to sleep for an hour or so, to give myself time to recuperate. I fell asleep.
When I got back on the blog, I had photographs on the SD that I had somehow forgotten about taking. Confused would be the most innocent word to use.
Carer’s table, I think I’ve got these in order.
Bubbly clouds, love them!
I took this one to remind me to ask a Carer how to clean the new electric shaver, last Monday, Ahem!
Now, this one below I do recall taking & why.
During my confused period, when I put the computer to sleep, I went to make a mug of Glengettie tea.
I was actually surprised to find my balance off when I returned with the mug to the computer desk.
Why? I’ll tell you…
Instead of picking up the walking stick, I’d carried the tea-bag strainer in one hand and in the other the mug of tea! I think I laughed out loud when I realised. Partly at getting away without a fall or tumble, but mainly about my stupidity in doing so in the first place.
Just goes to show I have to be careful, rest and have a sort of R&R time after a seizure.
The sunshine broke through, and I went to take a snap of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I took no chances. I put on the old prescription sunglasses to avoid any temporary blindness that can occur from Glaucoma, Gladys, and Cataract, Katie.
As I stretched out of the window to get as decent shots as I could, … what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh, yes… ARRGH! The Catheter bag fell down the leg, and
blood was lost.
It didn’t half hurt. So, off to the wet room to get the Germolene medications.
Delicately, and gently, I disinfected it… words like, Whoops, Careful Inchie, 
Ooh! and Ahahaha… were used, amongst a few others, and uttered. Got the ointment on, readjusting the failed strappings.
I had a check on the Evoxaparin blood clots & curds on my stomach. They are still bright after all this time. Good old NHS.
I searched again for the reading glasses, but they were mysteriously unfound.
Naturally, all a part of the
mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, & spirits. Not to mention the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity of mind. Also, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Paroxysmal dyskinesia, Episodic ataxia, Ménière’s disease, Dark, Deep, Depressing Darius, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, Nicodemus Neurotransmitters Dying, Glaucoma Gladys, Stuttering Stephany, Lymphorrhea Legs Leslie, Premordid Cognitive Impairment Iris, Cataract Katie, Sandra’s damned seizures, Back-Pain-Brenda, Arthur Itis, Cartilages Chloe & Carole, Fractured Knee Frankie, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Unwin’s Unguis Incarnates Ingrowing Toenail, Reflux Roger, Replacement Mechanical Aorta Valve Victor, Diabetes Doris, High Cholesterol Christine, Hydrocephalus-Hilda, and Catheter-Contraption-Carol.
Night Time Sky.
I feel that the colouring of this shot
should remind me of something.
But what it is escaped me.
The daily meal. Waffles, seaweed, with
no-fish fish sticks, cheese bread, and
seaweed crisps.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– 
–
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchie Today: Wednesday 1st April 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yesterday’s Nosh Wot I Forgot To Add
Pretend Fish Sticks: Soft on the teggies, nice and sweet, easy to eat. Crafted Blue Stilton Cheese: Terribly disappointing lack of bite! Tsk! Pickled Beetroot: Sarnies: Made up got me by Carer Mizra. No butter butter, and soft goats cheese… tastier than the Stilton was! On Milk Roll sliced bread. Tasty!
Followed by a pot of Orange jelly, with a couple of pieces of mandarin in it. Again, tasty! Some tomato ketchup to dip the cheese sarnies in.
A Worthy Score of 8/10.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The day was littered with mistakes, harassments, failures, high blood oxygen & count levels. I have no choice but to miss out on many of the incidents; there were that many, and I just ran out of time again. I’ll try to keep the good, the bad and the ugly in. Haha! And do my best just to tell how it was without moaning.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke up, hanging part wat out of the bed, the bedding looking like it has exploded, and all twisted, some on the floor, and believe it or not, some over the top of the door. Puzzled? I was, too! I disentangled myself from the covers, and felt the need for the Porcelain Throne coming on as I got my feet on the floor… well, on some more quilts on the floor. 
I made my way to the wet room, again with the ncturnal catheter bag being dragged along behind. No time to sort the bag out, though; for the evacuation began to flow… this time I was so lucky. Firstly, it was a Trotsky Terrence flood that escaped involuntarily and too soon. 
I was not in the seat nor even over it when the torrent splattered out from my rear end. Has to clean the floor, WC, floor cabinet, my legs and feet, and the stink was almost dangerous to one’s health. By the time I was putting the gown in the sink to hand-wash and disinfect it, I was tired and in pain from bending and stretching to do the cleanup. Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, Back-Pain-Brenda, and oddly, Toothache Tiffany were the main pain-givers. I’d done all this with the nocturnal pouch still attached. But Lost-Balance Belinda was not too bad at all, considering.
Along came Carer Dilon. I asked for the back and shoulders to be Phorpain-Gelled. No reply, he just did them. Then we searched for the glasses again. Dilan likes a good ferret and a rummage around, Hehe. But we failed to find them. I had to do the alert alarm battery check, putting on Dilan so he might remember next week. He was getting ready to leave when the District Nurse arrived. She had come to check on my 
Catheter Contraption, Fractured Knee Frank, my right leg’s Lymphorrea Leslie, and my testicles and bottom.
She was not happy with the state of the day pouch.
Two pretty views from the kitchenette window were snapped.
Getting the computer to open Google took three tries today. I fear the worst.
Then I started another search for my warm red socks. Every room was searched, including the hallway. Naturally, they didn’t come to light. Tsk!
Carer Mizra called, so glad to see him come, as well. A caring lad,
,
,
,
,
,
,
Inchie: Tue 31 Mar 2026: Problems increase – Solutions decrease. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I did not get around to starting this blog until Wednesday night. You will read why, if you are brave enough to read the reasons listed below. Haha!
If I ever get Wednesdays finished, you will read of me knuckling with Carer Mizra in celebration. No kidding… one of the many outstanding worries has been removed. I’ll not let on yet as to the reason, for my rare moment of joy, laughter and glee. Hehehe! For I have a lot of the miseries of Tuesday to record yet. The frustrations & failures… usual sort of day then.
Oh, did I mention that I lost my reading glasses? Not that it matters to Left Eye Gladys-Glaucoma, or right eye Cataract-Katie. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke up. I know that, ’cause when I got out of bed, I stubbed my toe on the walker. Removed the night bag and headed to the Porcelain Throne. For the first of many visits today. This one was a failure. I went to Hoover, the hallway, and the front room, but couldn’t find the charger. Ejaz or Mizra are my compensation for having bad 
eyesight. One of them will find it, I’m sure. Carer Dilon arrived. I told him of the difficulty I’ve got seeing without the eyeglasses. Med’s given. The Nurse noticed the Catheter bag was nearly full and asked if the Carer had checked it this morning. I said he was just about to. He produced the wee-wee jug and emptied it. I sprayed the disinfectant on his gloves, the Catheter nozzle and in the jug. After a 
quick but fruitless search for the glasses again, she said, “You’ll find them when you’re not looking for them. Let me know where they were!” A lovely smile 
offered, and off she trotted. Followed by Carer Dillon. I undertook another hunt for my Hoover’s charging plug. I searched all odd places that I was sure would prove a failure. 
Where oh where could it possibly be? A good question, but no success followed my best efforts, and looking in even odder places, fruitlessly.
The right shoulder, my back and Fractured-Knee-Frank all seemed a little less painful. I soon appreciated that this was down to the Oxycodone+.
I looked them up on Google. This is what it revealed.
Oxycodone+ is an opioid medicine used to relieve severe, debilitating pain.
It is not usually recommended for the treatment of chronic (long-term) pain.
Oxycodone+ is only available with a prescription from your Doctor.
If you stop taking Oxycodone+ suddenly, you may experience withdrawal symptoms.
There are challenges associated with taking any opioid medicines, so make sure you take these medicines exactly as prescribed by your Doctor.
If you are concerned that you are becoming addicted to or dependent on Oxycodone+, let your Doctor know so that you can get help. You can also call the National Alcohol and Other Drug Hotline (1800 250 015) for 24/7 support and treatment information.
Continue to take Oxycodone+ for as long as your Doctor tells you to. If you stop taking any brand of Oxycodone suddenly, you may experience withdrawal symptoms.
Oxycodone+ 30 mg is a high-dose, potent opioid with significant side effects. Common reactions include severe constipation, nausea, vomiting, profound drowsiness, and dizziness (I’ve had these two for years now). also headache. Serious risks include fatal respiratory depression (slowed breathing), addiction, severe low blood pressure, (Mine has gone higher?)
The higher the dose of Oxycodone+, the greater the chance that you will get side effects.
Do not take any other medicines to treat the side effects of Oxycodone+ without speaking to a pharmacist or Doctor first.
Serious side effects: Sleeping disorders, vertigo, Confusion, and muscle stiffness.
Genital itchiness or rash.
Oh, I’m glad I looked it up. Hehehe!
But it is working a treat so far.
Carer Ejaz and Mizra have both identified that my balance is much worse than usual. Both of the lads are urging me to use both sticks or the walking frame.
Bless them both. Best if I do not mention the other.
ANOTHER DISASTER! 
The computer started showing a graph of needed repairs. Usually, I leave this until activities are showing, save work done, turn everything off, give it a good few minutes, and restart. Not over-technical, is it? Hehe!
The Blue-Screen-of-Death filled the monitor! I resigned myself to this. I’d was just sort of expecting it for a year or more.
I could not get anything to work at all, adding to all the work I’d lost. Then, having a mini-seizure with a series of shakes after coming out-of-it, I should have been heartbroken and suicidal… really, I ought. But, no!
Disappointed and frustrated, yes.
But a strange acceptance of the situation, almost comfortable with it. So many things are going wrong again. I cannot spend any money or get any. Little things like rent, Grammarly, WordPress, and Asda are cancelling my order. No chance of getting Asif to look at the computer when no cash is available to pay him.
I knew I was going to be in trouble even further. But knew of the mass of medication on the desk to my right was available. At that time, it was not angst or fear affecting me; it was just the only way to go. No fear about it. Then I remembered what Jenny said last time I spoke with her on the phone. She really is My Angel.
I pulled myself mentally together, as far as I could anyway, and tried to start the computer again. No chance. But I kept trying… several attempts, turning it on and off again… Google opened! But I could not get into any of the programmes or apps. Give up? No, I tried yet again. This time, when I clicked the Google icon, it appeared for a second and then disappeared three times. I turned it off and, one last time, readied myself for the end of my computer, RIP.
Astonishingly, everything Google loaded all the apps and icons as usual, albeit they were minuscule, and could not be made bigger. Then a box appeared and disappeared within seconds. I’m sure it read something like ‘Google (something) has been updated’
Well, bugger my lugs! All was working again, although a little slower than before.
Mizra made a call; he and Ejaz are nice lads. He gave me the painkillers, then rang the bank to try and get to the bottom of why the card was frozen. Then we got an email telling us it was unfrozen and now active. Because Mizra checked on a couple, Grammarly and Norton, and both were still unable to access their dues. Of course, the usual AI waffle to get through, 0355 number, so that will have cost me about £2 a minute, plus a connection charge. Mobiles can cost up to £6 a minute! When the robot had eventually finished saying ‘I’m sorry I did not catch that (8 times), and went through a lot of passwords, favourite this or that… Mizra got to talk to a humanoid! When I needed to give permission for Mizra to speak on my behalf, I had a witty, sarcastic quip ready, but chickened out. I thought Mizra had explained things clearly, but the humanoid kept asking for confirmation of the answers given. I heard him say, “Ah, I can see what happened… then he asked Mirza to wait a while… It seemed like an hour, but it was obviously not. He came back and said the card has now been cleared. Mizra & I agreed that, with Dilan being told the same yesterday and it still being blocked, we’d wait until tomorrow to check. A wise decision, considering the bank’s failings before.
I relaxed a little; nothing to do but wait now. Mizra will check again tomorrow evening.
I called Angel Jenny, hoping to ask her to get in touch with Asif to give him the go-ahead on the new computer… realising, as I dialled, that, with the lack of money and just a £10 note, this would not be a good idea. We nattered, somehow that gal settles me when I’m all uptight, it’s a gift, a gift from an Angel.💟
I made a start on Monday’s blog at long last, and was making decent time with it…
ANOTHER DISASTER!
Typing away, and when I pressed for a Cap G, lines and lines of Craig ccc CraigCccccCraig filled the entire page! Well, that was the end of a short life for the fifth time, of an Amazon cheapo plug-on Keyboard. I turned the computer off again and back on, tried typing G in MS Word, CorelDraw and Google, all filled up with lines and lines 
of Craig ccc Craig cccCraig.
I had a look at the first abandoned Amazon cheapo keyboards. All with the keys printed incorrectly, except for the first black-and-grey one, whose key numbers were so small that I found it difficult and time-consuming to use. By now, I had to try i
t again to see if it worked, and it did. With my eyes getting worse than ever, it’s so hard to use. At times. near impossible!
The Carer’s times are now varying a lot. I had asked for a list of their ETAs as a guide. All these changes are getting me out of sync and confused.
Ejaz came this time, nice to see him again. I’ve got this on my reminder pad: 152 – 233 13. I wonder why?
Carer Nizra did the last call. Helped me cook a meal. The computer had long been abandoned.
Medications, and left me eating in 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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Afternoon Shots I missed, Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
🤎 Can’t finish. Eyes are too bad. Cheers each.🤎
Inchie 17th to 29th March 2026: 11 more days in hospital. Mega Depressed!
.- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – This was soon to change – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today’s ailments in charge, and I believe enjoying giving me pain, the most uncomfortable are: Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley in 2nd-second place, well below my so-painful newly developed one. Going by the name of, currently anyway, Cracked-Rib-Craig. Later in the day, Crack Rib Craig’s pains tripled. Carer Ejaz called ICC & was advised to call 111. Which he did. As a result, an ambulance is on the way. These were the 11 days in 2 hospitals and 5 different wards: utter frustration.
Ejaz could only stay until the paramedics arrived; he had to shoot off when they arrived. I asked him to contact Paul with the details via email, and showed him where the link was in the Excel Contact listing to pass along for me. That was a comfort, stops folks from fretting at my absence. I suppose.
The ambulance men were also in a rush, and asked me to leave my big coat and not to take any sticks with me as they would only get nicked. I was in no state to argue, but paid the price when I realised I’d left my camera, mobile, card and cash in the greatcoat. Naturally, in all that time, with no pen, pad or contact, the only person who tried to contact me, not surprisingly, was Jenny, My Angel.
We got to the QMC, and I joined an estimated 34 trolleys in the A&E corridors. Someone came shortly to diagnose me, and I was wheeled ahead of the corridors on a trollied patient’s stretcher straight to the cardiac PET team in a side room. I only managed to catch a few readings, but a smidgen concerned, at my blood sugar showing 4.5. After some of the sickly sweet bottles were forced down me, and off the scan, then the X-ray rooms. Then I was moved into a Geriatric Neurology Ward. In the evening, after scrounging a pen and a paper towel, the readings I noted were 169-68, 8. Blood oxygen 92 71. Apart from the blood sugar at 2.6 now, I thought I’d be okay and on my way home soon.
The chest pains got worse, though. The deep breaths they asked me to take on the second visit from the cat team were the most painful to date.
Overnight, many regular checks were taken, but… the blood sugar did not increase despite the clumps of sweet water it was, and sugary drinks were taken.
The next day, they moved me to the Geriatrics, Blue ward. I had visits from the neurology, Cardiac, and Warfarin-INR checks, which I was sure would be okay, because they have been for weeks now, not NO! The INR returned as 1.2; my target was 3 to 3.5. This prompted them to start giving me Enoxaparin injection in my tummy. The nurse who gave the first one to me left a large blood spot and asked if they are usually this big. I explained that the Enoxaparin was injected in a downward direction and the full length of the needle was not fully in before she injected it. She 
looked agaog. I did them myself after that one. Here is a snap I took when I finally got home. I’ll explain why later. I got home many days later to take this snap just before midnight, of the original injection. It’s been weeks since I self-injected, but I can remember how they told me to do it. A smug mode sneaked in amongst the frustrations. Haha!
Then, the 24-bed Geriatric Assessment Unit (GAU) was launched in July 2024. (4×6 Beds wards What a nightmare. Little knowing what was to come later. I reassess it as not a very good experience. Hehehe!
But this was my most confusing period. After the 2nd day in there, things were beginning to feel easier, and the blood sugar level was up to 4.8. Don’t laugh, but I cannot recall which department the next Doctor was from. He pointed out the bruises from the blood tests, which two days earlier were bright, were now fading very fast; my pallor was ghostly, and I needed some specialist investigations. Also, that morning, my BP was 187/63, temperature was down to 25.0, and Blood Sugar was back down to 2.6. I think she was a diabetologist. Anyway, I was stuffed with orange juice, more rock-solid lumps of cake, and sickly-sweet boosters. The next day, I was transferred to the City Hospital. By then, Toothache Tiffany had started to kick off, and my urine colour was a 7 for the next three days. Each time I went to the loo, which averaged five or six visits a day, a frame supplied to get there, there was blood on the gown from my external haemorrhoids, every time. Then, whatever it was called up the bum to get samples, photos and cream applied. The outside ones were the more painful. I suppose, due to all the lying on my backside for so long. The INR slowly rose a smidgen, showing the benefit of the prefilled 9-foot-long hypodermic syringe, inserted in the belly, times a day. Obviously, that was a joke; it wasn’t that long or anywhere near it, just felt like it. I believe, for some unknown reason, I cheered up a little that day and wandered into another of the mini wards, Yellow. And started a chinwag with two of the people in there. I called on the last two days as well.
Then the night shift ignored every call for help from men needing to use the toilet, empty their catheters, or drink. I found out why: from my bed, I could see the outer door and some of the staff coming in with coats over their uniforms, carrying takeaways. As soon as they’d noshed it, a nurse returned to the bay. He reminded me of Sonny Liston, but didn’t speak as much. This was another bad night because, apparently, as Dave from Yellow Ward told me, the TVs were being repaired, and it was terrible listening to them with the hearing aids in, so I took them out. But forgot to open the battery compartment. They ran flat. Plucking up the courage the next day to ask if they had any, a nurse who had not responded to my attempted forms of wit before, yes, yes, I’ll get you some, and returned minutes later with a pack of eight, for free! The tinny cracking coming from the night watch lady’s desk and the chap in the next bed’s TV. The atmosphere improved when I had a visit from the Cardiac and Warfarin folk, who told me that if all goes well with the next set of checks, they would be able to sign me off! I hoped for the best, and my parole would come through in the morning.
The diabetic tests, well, all four were much improved, and he said he’s signing me out later that day. Oh, the Joy! Getting back to see my Jenny Angel before she goes on her trip to see her Chesterfield relatives with Frank. Great! How hoopefull and stupid I was to think it would happen!
The Neurologist then gave me the all-clear. Bags of new medications to sort out. New painkillers, back on the Morphine again, but by gum, they do work. Others that they may have told me what they were for or not, but you know me. The only certainty is certainly a matter of credence, rather than factuality sometimes. My rare doubtlessness is misunderstood credibility. I think?
Some, well, masses of paperwork to get help with. I won’t bother Jenny or Frank until they get back from their break. That was the plan… Dang dang, fang Dang!
I was due to be parolled at 1030hrs the following day.
I nipped into Yellow Ward to tell the lads, and got back into bed, ready for my vegetable balls in gravy, onions & courgette medley meal.
Dare I say it, I was feeling chirpy! Yee-Ha! But as I was enjoying my meal, a nurse informed me that the Neurologist had not passed for parole! Sob! I may have got the department out of sync here? His results would be known in the morning. If they are good enough, he will sign me off. We felt they would be, and encouragingly, they told me I’d be leaving in the morning, lift arranged for 1330hrs.
Very early in the mornings, a nurse was getting my carrier bag and keys out of the locker, and I just knew it was good news. And, it was! All cleared! But again, a new course of medication to be sorted, and three bags of medications to add to take home with me. So many things to take in at once.
I enjoyed the online. shower of the hospital visits, as I did the earlier one shave they let me have.
Saturday: Full of joy and hope, after the shower, they bunged my things into carriers, cleaned my bed for the next victim, then moved me into the Departure lounge, to await the promised lift home in plenty of time for the 01330hr lift. And, only two escapees to go, me and an old Scottish chap. At 1500hrs, a lady rang to see where the lift was. It’ll be here shortly.
1600hrs: She rang again. It will be here at 1700hrs.
The poor Scottish man decided to take a taxi, which was not an option for me due to Chloe & Carol’s cartilage in my knees. I did mention that DG supply a larger type of taxi that Jenny Angel uses. But I could not remember the name of it. And she called again. It will be here by 2000hrs.
Not surprisingly, my confidence was low, very low. The room I was left in was so cold. Medical staff kept walking through it in a back room, the smell of poo permeating into the room as they left again.
There seems to be another call to them, that the City Hospital did not want to give me a lift, cause it was the QMC’s job? So sayeth the computer lady.
All I had on was a hospital gown, and it had not been washed for 12 days. I started sneezing. That brought back the rib pains as I waited. I found a crossword book, but without the reading glasses, I could not even have a go at that. Then, I wonder what I will find when, or if ever, I get back to the flat.
I think it was nearly ten o’clock when the ambulance arrived. The tension was sensed immediately in the two ambulance personnel, stand-offish at first, I thought, but how I felt after an 11-hour wait, mixed with the worries of what I would find. In the ambulance, I used my humour to force them to communicate. By the time we got back to the flat, they asked if I could manage with the walker and bags to get up there. Ahem! As we got into the lift I let my fears pour our and told them that British gas sai9d the metere will stop working unless I supply them with a read, and it me £26 for the tow failed calls to them to explain we do not know how to read the meter, finally the human we got to0 talk to, spent an hour telling Carer Ejaz how to read the meter, but the coloured buttons where no on the box. He emailed them photos, but eventually she asked me if I wanted an engineer to come and look at it. I replied Yes, please, that would be marvellous!
No one came, now threats of turning off the power!
They mellowed when we got in the flat, and they saw 
the great stack of mail delivered while I was in the hospital, 9 letters that need reading and reacting to. The Bank, City Council, and two medical ones were amongst them that I recognised. Then I opened the carriers. As you see, loads of new and old medications.
Paperwork that I cannot read must be baffling to anyone without cataracts. How can I rely on someone to know enough to be confident to sort them for me? I’ve already got boxes, some opened, some not, of Catheter Caroles Contraption, medication all over and under the Carers table, and the prescription medical stuff has spread into another drawer. Recognising the new will be risky with the Morphine and antibiotics. Which am I to keep taking, which am I to stop taking, if any? This could be a dangerous situation. And the poor Carer has to
He keeps to his timetable and does not even get time with the extra time to catch up on anything.
A Social lady said that Age UK can provide help with shopping. That would be grand, but they said that last time I was in the hospital. I’ve heard nothing. I’m all het-up now again. It got worse. I had to throw away all the fresh food in the fridge that was out of date, except the cheese. I lost the plot there, back to couriers at home. They asked me to press the alarm alert, and I did. They told the operator who I was and of my returning home. Then, something I’d been looking forward to so much, a good, strong mug of Glengettie. I got the kettle on and noticed that the slow cooker had been left on for 11 days, with cracks appearing, and it was bone dry.
As if all this was not enough for suicide, the Bank had blocked my account. Great, if anyone does come to help with the shopping now, I can’t afford any. Who can I get to go to the Bank with me, after helping me find the problem and if one, a solution?
.
To think, yesterday all I was looking forward to was getting home to see Jenny & Ejaz. I think my mistake was asking the nurses to update my situation. I think this morning at around 0800hrs is the next call.
So, nobody had checked on the flat! ,
I got this update done up to here. It’s now 0620hrs, Sunday morning, and I’m in a worse state than ever.
Which indicates that Ejaz didn’t call once to let Paul know the situation, or do a safety check.
Mind you, he was in a rush when he’d called the ambulance. My fault.
I’m not sure I’ll be able to do a blog for a while, so much to get sorted, and I just don’t know if I’m going to react, medically, over the situation.
I can see things still not getting done, Oh, dearie me.
Now I may lose Grammarly and the internet connection, not to mention the landline and mobile.
British Gas is still telling me the meter is being shut down? Not my fault. Carers have tried their best to help, but the amount of money it costs when they put them onto AIs without the required “why are you ringing” list? Cut you off three times, and you have to pay the connection fee and ridiculous per-minute charges, not to mention the Bank wants to see me.
That’s another thing, who can I get to go with me to the bank meeting? Last time I had to take a Carer with me… the problems are too much.
Thanks for reading this pathetic winning crap.
Away for 11 days… what do I come back to… I’m so sorry. No point in moaning, I know. But I’m getting deeper into a maelstrom of uncontrolled situations. None of my fault, I believe. This makes things worse; I still need of so much help that is not coming.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’m turning into a blubbering, worry-wracked
nervous, incompetent, incapable waster.
Just mentioning the obvious.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Something’s gotta give…
CHEERS
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yours, Inchie The Defeated.
.
.
.
.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Inchie Today: Thursday 19th March 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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?
.– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
.
…
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
,
.
.
.
.
.
Inchie: Wednesday 18th March 2026
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
🌻 Thanks for viewing 🌻
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –