Toothache Tiffany

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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Inchie: Tuesday 10th March 2026

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Despite the last five days of mayhem, despair and failures, I lay there in the bed and almost slightly felt hopeful that the day would be a better one. It helped, no doubt, that bothersome Back-Pain-Brenda was AWOL. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley was trying to make up for that, as best she could. I removed the nocturnal catcher pouch and stood to do the morning balance exercises and assessments, and the door chime chimed. Good heavens, it was gone 08:00hrs! I did get to bed late, but I still got a decent, not broken often, five hours in.

Ejaz got the medications sorted out, foamed and creamed the toes and ankles, and again, they seemed better than the day before. But not the right leg, that seems to have accrued the oddest-looking batch of new marks, scars, spots and pimples. Almost artistic, really. Hahaha! I think the yellow streaks down the leg were due to my leaving the flash on for Kodak Tim 2. Ejaz told me that the new Carer time will be increased. But I’d forgotten the day he gave me. I’ll check later. As he trotted off, a food delivery arrived. Ejaz took the bags through to the kitchen, then the lad had to fly. Bless him.

I got on the computer to find the meal shot for last night… well, this morning had not been added, so here it is.
Soft cheese on soft white bread, Anya, knobbly potatoes. Imitation fish sticks and some tomatoes. The fries were too hard to eat, but I soon gobbled up the rest of the meal. Nice!

I thought I heard something drop from the kitchen, and went in to investigate. All seemed okay, and I got Kodak Tim-2 again and took some snaps of the view on offer from the kitchenette window. I think I made another error with the last one. It came out, as you can see, totally different to the first two. Part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Courts hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, ectoplasms, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials,  spirits, Accifauxpas, and the Fata Morganas strike again! I must ask Tim Price about this phenomenon with the last snap.

A while later, I nipped out to take a picture of the end car park on Citrus Way. Did okay with this effort. Caught the sun coming down from Mapperley, high above. No mudslide on the ground this morning.

I phoned Jenny to see if I could take down some of the delivered food and treats. She mentioned that she’s read my blog, noticed that I have a wheelchair I’m not using, and asked if she could give it to a resident in need. No problem, and I got it readied for Frank to collect it later. I took two rubbish bags to the chute. Then I took down the carrier and left it outside her door, with the nibbles inside.

Frank came up to collect the wheelchair, and I showed him what I know about it, brakes for the person in the chair and the pusher, and where they were. I checked that they were all operative, working okay.

Back on the computer, CorelDraw seemed to be behaving itself, but I’m still nervous for later.

Got the day’s Ode completed. Then found a plastic envelope on the hallway carpet. It must have fallen out of the wheelchair as we struggled to get it out of the door earlier. Two stick-on reflectors. I rang Jenny to let her know. She is coming tomorrow to see Ejaz about her old mobile that she is giving me, and to get it set up, bless her cotton socks. 🌸 She said she’d collect them then.

I found a couple of many years-old photos from when I had the stroke.
The first one is at the Nottingham City Hospital, Newell ASU Unit. Where they gave me Cloperdoggerel, and the state you see my legs in was from this. They discovered I was allergic to the drugs in it. Or the Clopidogrel mixture. Sister Jane took the photo during her visit. 
Then to the Oaks Care Home for a couple of months. I took the mass of get-well cards with me, all three of them. The memories of this place linger Today. This is what put me off the idea of going into one at first. A few true tales of events; ine I cannot mention, cause after the knife attack, they deemed it best not to get the police involved.
Mornings: The door would burst open, “Let’s have you up, get a wash and dressed.” Later, a loud thump or two on the door, and sometimes the door opened, and a voice would shout, “BREAKFAST IN TEN MINUTES, don’t be late!”
Weekly: Ah, the laundry, I lost a cardigan, a hat, two T-shirts, four underpants, and ended up with five odd socks. When my scarf was not returned, I bravely mentioned it to the lady who was making a right mess of putting on my leg straps, but got no answer. Then spotted a Carer in the hallway and asked if my scarf had been found. “No!” I thanked her. That night in the dining room, I sat down and saw a resident wearing a scarf similar to the one I had lost. I said nothing. Oh, I nearly forgot: one day I got the laundry back with two odd socks… my hat was missing, and as a bonus of two pink brassieres!
Tea: Thud, door opens: I once had the temerity to ask what it was. “Hot Dog!” I got down to find it was just that. A stale roll with a frankfurter in it. Nothing else, while those around me got chips, ketchup and bread.
Dinner: Thud, clunk. “Dinner in ten minutes, don’t be late.” I got down as fast as I could, but on two occasions, being new, it seemed they thought I was a visitor and got no food at all! (True!)
I made the mistake of trying to talk to the resident in the community room; just once was enough.
I asked him something like, £have you been in here long?” I got fired back at me; “I’m trying to watch the FΧπψϖϒing TV!” I sarcastically gave the staff some treats when I left, overdoing it by saying, “I like to thank you all for the great care given to me!” I waited a few seconds, then gave them all the odd socks I’d got back from the laundry; “If the others ever come back to life, or are found, you can keep these, and match them up!” My intended mockery was wasted. All I got back from any of them, well, one of them was… “Oh! Cheers!” as he opened the box of Roses and handed them around. I just had a sinking feeling… what if they decide I have to go into a home and pick this one?
I’ll be in reet-schnook then!
Then there was this photo of the Geriatric Unit, from last November’s tumble-rumble. They diagnosed me with water on the brain, Hydrocephalus (NPH). Last week, I mentioned it to the nurse and was told I didn’t have that; I’d had a small TBI in the brain. They can do nothing about it. That explains why I’ve been waiting for the trephination operation. At least I won’t need that now, and that’s why no one got in touch. Hehe!
That’s put my mind at rest.

I cracked on with the blog for a couple of hours, guzzling the mineral water like it was an elixir.
When I stood up, I recall at first thinking to myself, well, talking to me as well; ‘Well, your balance is better now, mate! Then the Catheter pouch dropped down, giving Little Inchie a surprising tug! By gum, it had filled up sharpish near the 300ml mark on the bag. I emptied it and disinfected.

I rang Jenny to ask if I could bring the stick-on reflectors to her flat. There was something we spoke about, something else, I think. But the brain is not at its best late in the day. Jenny will be calling tomorrow with the mobile phone and said she’d collect the reflectors then.
I poddled to the kitchenette and snapped a few more reasonable photographicalisations of the wild-looking clouds. They gave me the impression that they were not happy. Wonder if we’ll get a sunset view later?

Ejaz was a little quiet and unresponsive to my natterings. I hope he’s going to be alright, and not worrying about something. He should be better in the morning, when he meets with Jenny, and maybe Frank, too. We need his mobile phone skills. I can’t cope with the one I’ve got, and that has no internet on it. An easy-to-use product for the elderly, it said. Ejaz, Joe, Akram, and Mirzra have all tried to get a ringtone on the phone. And failed, what chance have I? Zilch comes to mind. 

As I went to get the kettle on for the first brew of the day, I just had to take more snaps of the clouds. This first one was as wide as I could get on Koah Tim-2. Then I tried a close-up shot. To me, this is a paralania delight. The sun is doing its best to burst through the gap in the multi-shaded clouds. I saw a creature’s head, a whale shape and a ghost in this like photographicalisation. I’ll keep looking in case it changes again.

I tested the potatoes cooking in the slow cooker…
Trapped my hand in the drawer while getting the spoon. But no problem, it’s still looking good.
It’s only physical pain, I’m good with that – it’s the mental pains of existence that get to me.
Did I just write that? Good stuff  !

I’d forgotten to vlean mt teeth. So off I went to the wet room and used the new soft toothbrush. Ejaz came and went ikn with me. We didn’t half laugh when we looked at the box. It had two brushes in it. They were for children to use. With an old-fashioned sucker on them, to stick it on Porcelain. Hehe!

Boy, the clouds are getting scary in a way.
I think these could be used as a cover for a horror story. Depict the lack of control, mortals have to change the inevitable?
An ever-lurking threat to humanity?
I might use one of them as an Ode leader graphic?
I know, an Ode to the influence cast by 21st century politicians & Oligarchs Today?

I think Today was my best one for months.
The feeling I had when I woke up must have come from my EQ, possibly?

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TTFN
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Inchie: Thurs 5th Mar 26 – Busy, Confusing Day

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Sorry, but today’s busy planned and unplanned schedule was stored in my reminder notepad, but much of it is unreadable because so many things happened straight after one another. Things may be of of sync chronologically; some may be missing; some I hazarded a smidgen of guesswork to identify. It did not help with the activities of the day ending so late. Meaning I didn’t get around to doing this blog until Friday morning, after the Carers had been, and a one-hour failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. I’ll have to shorten a few of the event details, partly due to my inability to decipher certain words, and the cataracted eye deciding to give me foggy-bother so early in the morning. Plus, if I tried Roget it in its usual humour-traitedness, I would not have time to get it done by Friday or Saturday…
I’m waffling again, sorry about that.
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0650hrs: Got the night pouch off, and visited the Porcelain Throne. No torpedoes this morning. Jaut one long, unpainful, ‘thought it would never end’ flow of wet mud.
Got the kettle on, then the computer and Carer Dilan arrived. As he sorted the medications, he asked me if we had any more Bosoprolol to hand. I went into the kitchenette to check on the Carer’s Medicine Drawer. Spotted a packet of Beta-Blockers, noticing that it had been opened. As I took it to Dilan, I saw there were only three tablets in the box. I asked if we have any on order or coming that will get here before I run out of the second most important of my medications. He did not know. He rang someone but did not say who, and said, “Well, you’ve got three days yet.” I went on my NHS App, but each time it was not used, three minutes the first one, I had to go throughthe bother of logging on again, getting a code via Email, inputting it into the app, and three minutes of searching to try and find details of my prescriptions, I was blocked again and had to go through the procedure for a third time. I tried a fourth time. Found the prescriptions and checked on the Bisoprolol name to order it. Then had to fill in why I was making the request. As I was typing in, only three tablets left, I was blocked yet again. I gave up, not knowing whether my request had gone through.
I was trying to stop Dilan from worrying about the shortage, not that he seemed in the slightest bit bothered. He gave me the morning medications… now, in the past, I have been known not to take them. Ejaz & Mirzra always make sure I have, and have seen me do it.
After Dilan had gone, I saw them in the pot, tipped them out onto the memory pad, and took them. I know I get confused, but something told me there were not as many tablets as usual. That would be toying with me. I do get confused at times, usually after one of my rare, ‘With-it-Moments’. Which I had when noticing the tablet shortage.

I got WordPress opened, ready to start the blog, and Matron (I think) came in, always glad to see her. A few general questions, then she carried out a Memory Test. Read out a name & address. Matron asked me what time it was, and I looked at the computer clock without thinking and told her. A broad smile, followed by a mild ticking of later, she continued. Hahaha!
I can’t remember everything, but counting the months backwards, no, the alphabet, was beyond me. I feel a little ashamed. Or was it numbers backwards? I forget now. And my handwriting in the notes was abysmal; I think I was writing too fast to keep up with the prompts.
Another one I failed on was what month it is, without any doubt, and with complete confidence, I said February. To find out later, when Matron pointed out that I was wrong and had scored highly on the memory test. Which I thought was a good thing, and a grin spread across my face, a smug look about to erupt. But it was the opposite, and not a very good score. I’ll be referred elsewhere for further tests.
Carer Dilan arrived on his second call, and this reminded me about the missing medications, Beta-Blockers. Matron spoke with Dilan about sorting and finding out if they are coming and when. I’ve heard nothing yet.
Several lines of indecipherable rubbish on the page here. Eight of them. Not the foggiest idea, but they were in the Matron’s visiting timeline.
Matron mentioned that I had a little brain injury. I think she said it was a TBI.

But I’m not certain now. I’m sure it was a TBI. I thought the surgeon said they had found water on my brain, NPI, was it CSF? Then again, come to think of it now, CSF, TBI? I could be wrong. I have been known to get things confused lately.
Hard to believe, I know. Haha!

Jenny 🌸💜 appeared with her ingenious collapsible chair and handed me some Hills Shortie biscuits she had bought for me. She was aware that this brand of shortcake bickies was soft enough not to bother . A  sweetheart she is. She’s helped get me noticed by calling Age UK and getting the ball rolling on assessing and determining whether I’m eligible for extra help. She advises me with logical, coherent tips and dos and don’ts. 🎀 Understands exactly how my disabilities affect me. And is the only person to do so, about the seizures. She also offered help when the Carers cannot find time to do the laundry. Bless her Cotton Socks! X
Mind you, Jenny used to work in a hospital.

Then, Jake from the Nottingham City Council,  erm.. er… I’ll look it up on the mobile… Got it!
The Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services. He went through both of my large boxes of files and saved paperwork. It took him ages; all were out of date, of course. It’s not up to date cause the Carer’s stopped storing them for me, not enough time to do them, but I hadn’t realised. He spent ages with me, trying to find proof of various pensions and banking details. He had to call Royal Insurance, which gave him a number for Cooperative Insurance, which the Royal had taken over. So, he rang them, all long-winded and proof of everything needed before progressing. Somehow, he eventually managed to get the details from the Cooperative Insurance. Then rang Royal Insurance back with any details he’d gathered from the Cooperative Insurance. Then needed further proof from my bank, and had to ring them again. Apparently, they are going to send me a written statement by post, and I’m to call Jake at the Nottingham City Council Housing Sustainability Services, send him a photo or copy, and then he can progress with assessing my validation to get help. Haven’t I already told you all this? I hope not.

The day had now gone, and night was falling. My eyes were fading, and my frustrations were raging.

Ejaz and the training Carer arrived, and I can’t recall if anything worth mentioning happened. I was baffled by all that was going on; I think my brain gave up on me. I did take a photo of the view through the kitchenette window. Seeing it now, not too bad a one.

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As I fell asleep at the computer, I dreamt of the skies turning to stone. Ice was forming all over the planet, and as the globe began to crack, I woke with a start and hurt my back. The Inner-Voice Spoke to me, in a smarmy, crude manner, saying: “You think yesterday and today were crap? – Hehe,  just you wait until tomorrow!”
I didn’t cry. But I thought about it!
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Fair Thee All Well!
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Inchie: Wednesday 18th February 2026

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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0500hrs: I was awake, removing the nocturnal Catheter pouch. The mobile flashed in the distance, so I went to get the text message or phonecall. It was an EE network. Part of the Oligarchal Liberty-Global money-mad world rulers. It also owns Virgin Media, which owns shares in Vodafone, EE, Three, and many other European communication companies.
I deleted it. And visited the Porcelain Throne.
Trootskt Terence controlled, super-gooey, sticky, stinky and a deep straw colour.

I sorted out the waste bins and concentrated on getting things ready for the Audio Clinic visit. In a nutshell, the usual nothing-goes-right situation early on. I woke and took off the night Catheter bag. I saw the mobile’s light flashing. Thinking it might be the computer man, the Audio Centre or the Carers, I got up to investigate. Realising it was 0500hrs, I saw it was from EE Mobile, telling me they were raising the cost by 20%, but that by getting a different plan I could… I deleted it! After an hour or so trying to catch up on the blog, realising there would be precious little time left, it dawned on me that my right sock, slipper, and foot were wet. Yes, in the panic to get to the phone in case it was the computer man, I’d not turned the release valve off properly. So. I stumbled over getting my socks off, but I managed to do it with the help of the picker-upperer. Then had to fill a bowl with Dettol and hot water and wash my feet! Which I did without spilling any (just a little miracle there, Haha!).

The District Nurse came to reapply the dressing to the leg wound. The Carer was a tad late. The lift arrived… and I panicked.
Thanks to the Nurse, who helped me dress, asked what I needed to take with me, and rang the Carer for me; the Carer arrived minutes later. All casual. Hehehe! He had to log in, so he took the keys, ran up to the flat, logged in, and came down again.
The EasyLink driver was very patient, especially since I forgot to bring change to pay the exact amount.
The visit went swimmingly. Only in the room for 10 minutes maximum. With hearing aids working and some spare batteries. But we had a long wait for the return trip. Ejaz snapped a few photos on the way there and back. He’ll send them to my email later. 
Sister Jane said she & Pete would be calling on me on their way to see Roberta. 
(Jenny rang for an update, which I gave her.)

I felt the warm urine as it wet my sock and filled my slipper. Some terrible language was uttered with a sort of loud wailing noise, of anger, and frustration!
I had to get my socks off, carry a bowl of hot water into the main room, bet my feet disinfected and washed, and use paper towels and the picker-upper to dry them. Then strip off and get to the wet room, to wash the leg, have a shave and do the teggies, which brought more hassle and pain. No matter how carefully and gently I cleaned the rotting, whole-ridden teeth I have left, it was agony! 
The self-anger got worse as I realised that had I not got to the mobile to see who was texting, I would not have left the damned Catheter valve open!
I think a home is the best option for me.
As I left the wet room, I found that Carer Ejaz was in the front room. He must have come in, but I did not hear the door chime while the noisy wall heater was on in the wet room, which was only on cause I pee’d all over myself again and had to strip off to wash… am I annoyed? Yes. YES! YES!

Ejaz issued the medications. And took away the night pouch and bowl for me. I got one with finishing yesterday’s, and starting this blog.
Then I started getting the things I needed ready to take with me to the Clinic.

Still awaiting Carer Ejaz’s photo-snaps to arrive. He’ll be busy catching up with himself now.

I’ve got into a mess chronologically. Sorry.

Some Photos From The Day Out.

The old Odeist, Inchie.
He struggled onto the minibus lift,
Here, awaiting his strapping in.
Offering a doff of his cap to his mass of followers.
Both of them! Hehehe!

En route to the Clinic.
Gregory Boulevard, or
the Forest Island, on.
Mansfield Road.

Nottingham General Cemetery cottages, known as the Freemen’s Houses or Almshouses, were built between 1837 and 1840. Designed by architect Samuel Sutton Rawlinson, these Grade II-listed, stucco and brick buildings flank the main entrance (gatehouse) on Canning Circus. They were designed to house aged freemen and their widows.
By 1923, 150,000 bodies had been buried, and the then Medical Officer of Health expressed concern about the future of the cemetery if interments continued. A Bill was brought before Parliament by Nottingham Corporation to close the cemetery to further interments, except into existing family graves. Due to escalating operating costs after the Second World War, the Company made representations to the Corporation to take over the cemetery. The Corporation declined, the Company went into voluntary liquidation and the cemetery became vested in the Crown. The Crown conveyed the freehold of the cemetery and all its responsibilities to the City Council in 1956, and it remains (2010) in their
ownership. Nottingham General Cemetery in Canning Circus has implemented evening closures for pedestrians to improve security. Although the site is a public green space, these restrictions were introduced after reports of antisocial behaviour, muggings, and vandalism. To prevent unauthorised access at night, the specific gates are now locked. But still, we find spirit, and cider bottles, and drug needles found that were not there the day before. 

Easy-Lift minibus leaving,
Upper Colledge Street and
left onto Derby Road.
On the way home.

Sister Jane & Pete arrived.

Ejaz did the teatime call.

I got the meal marinating. This may sound all wrong, but I love Bombay potatoes with Tiryaki sauce and Gung Po sauce, with added potatoes, water chestnuts, and some bread to dip in it as I eat it.
Oh, I’d better defrost some bread now!

I put some pods and fabric freshener pearls in the laundry bag. Ready for tomorrow. Did I say the nurse is calling again tomorrow? 💟

I took two, not-so-good shots of the view offered through the kitchenette window.
Then I put a few slices of Milk Roll Soft Bread in the microwave for a couple of minutes on the defrost setting.
Which prompts me to give a little bit of safety advice on closing a microwave door. If you’d like or prefer not to end up wth your wrist in Techicolour, I advise that you don’t catch it against the locking mechanism of the microwave door – in particular, don’t do it twice in nearly the exact same spot! Pretty, though! Hehe!

I kept my neighbour and Angel Jenny updated with the day’s proceedings via email. It’s like, so great to have someone care. I do admire and thank her. 🎀🌺

Better have a go at comments and WP reader now, before I fall asleep, and my eyes fade again. But having the hearing aids sorted and working is great!

Going to get some food now, back in the morning.
Well, I hope so!

Some of the extra potatoes I added were not cooked enough. Spent ages testing each piece and dishing the tooth-challenging ones that I’d added. Hey-Ho!

🟤 Keep Safe, Each! 🟤

Inchie: Sunday 15th Febvruary 2026

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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OVERNIGHT Zzz Mark 1
I flaked out almost instantly. No seizures, Arthur Itis, no Shaking-Neck-Nigel or Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley disturbed my marathon sleep-in, or woke me up.
Well, it was that way for about 9 hours of unknown bliss. Until Carer Ejaz arrived. I heard him sounding the intercom, but just could not get up to admit him. He appeared next to me a few minutes later, declaring that I looked awful. He tended to my needs while I stayed reposed, bless him. Can’t recall much else.
Other than that, I think I fell back into the land of nod within seconds of him leaving.

Zzzz Mark Two
Another kip without interruption. For about 5 hours, making the current total 14 hours!
Until Carer Mizra arrived, got me out of my slumber, and started changing the day Catheter bag; a new one was put on the other leg. Painful.
When Mizra departed, I got back down again.

Zzzz Mark Three
After taking these two, I drifted off to sleep for four hours. Total amassed overnight and this morning, making a total of 18 hours in the Land-of-Nod.

Afternoon rain

A SOFT MEAL
The smoked sausages proved too
much for .
But the cheesy baked potatoes
were lovely, and eatable.

I took two photographs of the pretty-looking night sky. Then doctored them into one on CorelDraw.
Pleased for once with the result.


A few mild depressions here and there, and semi-highs with the meal and the photograph doctoring.
Pleased to get all that sleep in, but sad it’s getting me even further behind on the things not done.

Before getting my head down after washing the meal things, I gave each of the broken, cracked, chipped, loose and painful teggies a squirt of the toothache spray. Then I had a thought.
I do this now and then. Was it the toothache spray that was making me so tired and incapable of getting up? And not as I had assumed, the new Ezetimibe tablets? Mmm?

Inchie gets so easily confused,
Nae, mayhap, maybe bemused?
With incapabilities he is afflicted,
His sanity can’t be authenticated,
He’s given up trying to get adopted,
His rotting teeth get him awhaped,
Too old to get body & mind annealed,
He once played the jigger-jigger field,
Now no longer attempted,
As he waits to get aureoled…

Cheers!

Inchie: Saturday 14th February 2026

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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PHOTOS HIGH & LOWLIGHTS
Woke up with little effort. With grinding away at me. So painful, I wondered how I’d managed to sleep at all. Very odd. Took the Catheter bag off. Checked the taps, etc., and turned the kettle on. I took this first snap of the morning (left). It was not as cold as I thought it would be when I opened the window. This is often a sign of snow coming. The forecast was a yellow warning for snow in Nottingham. But it didn’t fall. Unlike me, when I went to the wet room. I fell against the sink after using the Throne, and went to have a wash and do the teggies, with the prescription toothpaste. Very, very carefully. I could not avoid it hurting with the darned teeth, several of them that had somehow come loose. As much as I took care not to overly pressure them, it was a painful job. I think it must have been the crispy, cheesy potatoes I had last night. I really love them, but dare not have any more with the state of my teggies. Instant mash and cheese from now on. Not the same, but needs must. I pondered things over, and realised that the super tasty seaweed snacks, the hot ones with chilli, are much harder than the green bags ones that are lighter and thinner. And dearer too. So that’s baked cheesy potatoes, crispy seaweed snacks, and Choc Chip Cookies to remove from my favourites list. I could sob! But I’ll not yet, plenty of time for that later.

The intercom rang; it was the delivery of a Morrison order. I let him in by pressing the door release button and waited for him to arrive. This is a doorstep delivery. And waited… a little longer… and a few minutes more. Went to check on the Amazon site, “This order was Delivered Today”
I struggled to get my shoes on, my back and right shoulder were irritated, even before my treks up and down to the lobby began. I suspected that the 6 bags had been left in the ground-floor lobby. Got down and it proved right. I’d taken the three-wheeled walker with me and got two bags in it, one balancing on top between the handlebars. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then got up to the flat and put the bags in the flat’s lobby near the flat door. 

2) Back down to the lobby with the three-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing more now.

3) Back down to the lobby with the three-wheeled walker, got two bags precariously in it. I fought to keep the top bag from falling off en route, then made it to the flat and set the bags in the lobby by the door. Pain is increasing even more now. I took some painkillers before putting the food away. I was fuming, but the physical aches kept me from getting mad, if that makes sense. Then got the bags, one by one, into the flatlet in the hallway. I had to leave then, and sit down to recover from my chest pains to ease the breathlessness. 

Got the things put away, taking this snap of the view from the kitchenette. My anger was not easing, though. I got on the computer to try to complain to Amazon. Typical oligarch tricks again. Just like British Gas and Virgin Media… GITS! THUNDERTURDS! SWINE!
I asked Google how to complain about an Amazon delivery. Followed their advice, but couldn’t find the tab they said to click on the Your Order page. 
I tried to contact Customer Services. Got through the AI’s lists until it came to selecting a reason from the following list: Nonem et my criterior. Snookered again by the Oligarchs. I didn’t find an option to ring them, but it was a 333 call, Minimum £2 a minute, plus unstated connection charges. Sod that you Oligarchs! British Gas charged me about £20, and the problem remains unresolved. The Virgin calls have cost me even more, with frequent connection drops, and they can charge a connection fee each time we have to ring back. Ejaz reckoned I’d spent £50 quid, plus connection charges, on the three calls we’ve had to make!
Back to the Amazon Oligarchs Problem.
I found where I could get them to ring me! I couldn’t, well, wouldn’t believe it, so I went through the pick you option of what to talk about, and again, my criterion was not available, but this time I found a ‘Something Else’ option that, for once, did not take me the same number of useless options. They needed my landline number. I put it in and was told, ‘That number is not recognised.’ And went back to where I started my search. I had to work hard, as the physical and mental pain Amazon had inflicted on me was getting to me more each time the telephone number was rejected.
Which was four times, four times I had to go through the system again to get to the comically-called, so-called, Customer Service to phone me.

How the Hell does Amazon get away with this and increase its turnover every year? Silly question… they are Oligarchs, of course. Virgin, owned by Liberty Global oligarchs who own or hold shares in 82% of European internet and telecommunications service providers, and, according to Forbes, pay their CEO millions of dollars a year, plus guaranteed bonuses… Jealousy on my part? Yup!

Getting like my confidence, hatred, health and mental disaffection; a little darker now. Just like Dank Dark Darius Depression is.

I’m not sure which is the most painful right now. The Physical pains, frustration, mental disruption, or the purest hatred that I’ve formed for years.

Well pee’d off, I made a brew of Glengettie, and finished off yesterday’s blog. My heart was not in it. That’s a first. I felt, and still do, so downhearted. Thanks to Amazon oligarchs.

Hello, a final, nae, first blast of the powerful but fading sun got through. Those little clouds have been showing for hours. Do you know what that means? No, nor me. Hehe!

The sun faded shortly after taking the Kodak-Tim-2 camera photo.
I went to wash the tea mug, to find that I’d left the bloody hot water tap on to run cold – Again!
The earlier depression that I thought was my lowest all year was beaten by a Mega-Depression, during which I sank to my lowest point all year.

Where is when you want him?

Well, what about food? Well, that’s controlled by  .
I bought a soft sourdough sliced loaf; it was delivered, well, almost delivered today by Oligarchs Amazon. But let’s not get back on that subject. It’s still sore! I have some soft bread, but what to go on it? No-butter butter, of course, I’ve some soft blue cheese to go with the bread. Some pickled onions, I can suck them but not bite them. Huh! Luckily, I bought the cheaper but softer chicken sausages (Not hostages, Keir!), which I should be able to manage to eat. The Spanish tomatoes are out of season ones, and fat to hard skin and flesh for me to tackle, so I’ll dish them. I have a jar of sliced green tomatoes in water. I’ll see if they are manageable for my poor, cracked, broken, painful, rotting, just been checked by the dentist, who told me they’d be fine until the next visit, teggies to handle.
That was a mouthful.

Well, better get on and make the sarnies then.
Took this snap with Kodak-Tim-2, and as I closed the window, I knocked a jug of kettle water off of the window ledge. I laughed loudly, smiled, sang ‘The Hills are Alive, with the Sound of Music,’ did a backflip as I was mopping up the water… no, you’ll never believe that. I cried!

I’ll, well, I’m hoping to be back in the morning to pick up where I left off updating this fascinating, irresistible, captivating blog… No, you’ll never believe that either. I wouldn’t believe that.

SAD TOOTHACHERS MEAL TONIGHT
The sourdough bread was extra
soft and tasty. A lot of the no-butter
butter, and tomato sauce on top
of pork slices. I made an error
in not putting some of the green
tomato salad on the dish.
The seaweed was thin, but
the most tasty item.

I can’t recall him calling.

Got my head down as soon as Carer Ejaz finished the last call. Sleep came quickly, and stayed with me through until the morning Carer arrived…
More on this tomorrow!

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TTFN, have a good day!
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Inchie Today: Wednesday 14th January 2026

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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Woke late at 06:30hrs. Night pouch removed.
Balance, Toothache, Backache, my right Shoulder pains, and Dizzy Dennis… the ailments were gathering. I took a shot of the view from the kitchenette. All the same, I was in better knick than yesterday morning. I did have a rare early morning seizure, but the after-effects were minimal.
Porcelain Throne used, made up waste bins. The right shoulder is still painful. Toothache, Tiffany is playing up. Carer arrived. Med’s issued, shoulder, legs and ankles were foamed. Extra painkiller taken.
The mental pain that was to follow (Oligarchs British Gas) took over as my main worry for the day, when I tell you, I’d like to point out that I am not exaggerating.
I tried to get the blog done as much as possible before Elaz returned for the two-hour call.
But progress was stunted with my bad eye almost blind in the afternoon and evening. I made a ton of mistakes, and I got very little done. Went to make a brew of tea in the kitchen, I’d left the tap on and the hot water ran cold!
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CorelDraw, which had been okay up to now, shot into full-screen mode, with a message coming up on top.
As I mused over what the heck I’d done this time, a text and an email arrived simultaneously. British Gas, telling me they urgently need a meter reading. I knew about this, but no one knows how to get the figures up. The Wardens, or neighbours. I’ll ask Ejaz to ring them for me when he comes again.

Back to the problem with CorelDraw. I turned it off in the end, but had to close and save everything first. It would not let me click the cross. All off, then rebooted, and opened CorelDraw to see if it worked.
At first glance, it seemed to be okay… then I realised page eight, the one with all the tabs and clipart I’d done on it… Had disappeared. I took this pretty well, I thought. Just the usual swearing, spitting and hexing. All gone now, so I have to make new ones whenever I want one. And word lists that I’ve redone, not many of them, keep disappearing from the file? Now I was spitting blood!

Got a message or two telling me to do this and that if I want to keep my Cloud access. All beyond me.

Ejaz returned and had a few things on my list for him to help me with. He took the laundry down first. Came back and called the Dentist to ask if they could get me a Wednesday appointment, so the Carer can go with me. All good with this. Then he called the Doctors to book a Wednesday appointment. This was not so good, but not bad. He’s got one for me after a verbal tussle.

Then… He called the oligarch-owned British Gas to ask them how to get a reading on the meter. After ten minutes, I put my hearing aids in to talk to the lady on the line… I couldn’t hear or understand a word she was shouting. Ejaz put the speaker on the landline. I still could not make out what she was saying. She had an Asian sounding tone, but even Ejaz was struggling… Then, the phone kept cutting out on us.
On about the fifth time, contact was lost altogether. Ejaz rang back. You could hear the frustration: this time, they needed account numbers and passwords! Luckily, I had these nearby. He got connected after more queries of why are you calling? Who are you? etc. Poor Ejaz got reconnected to the same ever-increasing, losing-it, and irritated lady.
Ejaz was sent four times to get the meter reading. I went with him. What we were being told to do, I recall pressing the orange button, or any of the other things they told us to try, worked! The line kept cutting out for a few seconds at a time.
We looked at the three electricity boxes in the flats’ foyer; they were all different types of meters.
I came back to the phone and told the lady, who complained about not understanding ‘Your carers’ accent, (Not that either of us could make out what she was saying either); I told her my age, disabilities, and that I just want to give you a meter reading that British Gas have asked for for over 6 months now. I need someone to come and show me how to get them… Then her voice became crystal-clear, “Oh, I can arrange that for you!” I replied, “Yes, please, please do that. Thank you.”
Cor, Luvva Duck!
Poor Ejaz shot down to get the laundry back, because he was on a deadline that was almost up for the call.
He left the bag on the bed. Unfortunately, I forgot about getting them out until late in the evening. When I did, I had to sort out damp, tangled, clumped together clothes and slippers. The hat, which I put in the bag. should not have gone into a machine; it should be hand-washed only. I couldn’t even force it onto my head. Haha! I’ve only worn it once, so why did I wash it? That’ll be Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, or Doreen Dementia to blame. Maybe the British Gas farce broke my concentration? (That’s easy to do with me)
I’ll sue them for £4.99, Har-Har!
I got back onto blogging and made some progress, not a lot, mind you. Then the eyesight really got worse. Not that I was surprised, it does this every day when I get tired. I’m hoping to hear from the NHS EENT soon about the cataract lasering. Hopefully, before my 90th birthday. But I’m not too hopeful.

Bombay potatoes, with a good dollop of
Sharwood’s Gung Po sauce added. With extra water chestnuts, red onion, tomatoes, extra baked & chunked thick-skinned red potatoes, and mushrooms. Nice & tasty!
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TTFN