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I’M SO SORRY, THIS DOUBLE HAS BEATEN ME
I am so hazy-minded, and things are going wrong. I cannot control my mind; well, it won’t work correctly. Everything I do is taking far too long, and I’m getting more and more behind. I am only just starting this on Monday! I loved doing my blogs, slipping some humour in, doing my silly and some serious Odes.
I’d just caught up with things a smidge by Saturday morning. And actually got some WP reading done and answered the comments last night; this has got me feeling overconfident, I think. What a plonker! This morning I was in the worst state mentally, ever! I soon came out of the depression. At noon, and it returned.
I’m increasingly getting so sick of hearing myself moan lately. I do most of it talking to my Alziemers & TBI-
affected, waywarder-than-ever cerebrum. I know it.
I know it will only get worse. There is no solution, no cure. For years I’ve known this, and just carry on. No option.
However, with blogs like this two-day one, time disappears; in my mind, I’m busier than ever.
A fact that surprised even me is… A perfect example here; now I’ve forgotten what I was going to type.
An hour later, after Carer Mirza called, and this supportive young man perked me up just by understanding my problems. He issued the medication, checked the dates of the food in the fridge, removed three items, and I asked him which Asian food was hot but not too hot. Masala is one, and he told me where to get ready-made ones. These kinds of moments are actually encouraging; they perk me up – and this is wonderful. He is so patient and, as Carer Ejaz, reliable.
If only they could send Ejaz, Mirza & Prem more regularly, I feel life would be easier. I wouldn’t consider going in or begging to be let in a home if this could happen. I’ve noticed I always fall behind with everything, including my blogging on the weekends. The days that none of these three visits me. Without assistance from Jenny & Frank, I’d really be lost.
As I previously waffled on about, things… ailments are getting worse. Another Cataract, teeth rotting, hearing aids still out of action, bladder agony, and my blog going to pot. Plenty more could go on the list.
After visits from these three, depression always reduces, and I become more accepting of things that are guaranteed to get only worse. As of now, after consecutive calls from Ejaz, then Mirza.
I know nothing has changed from before they called. But my acceptance of the situation shows itself.
I even dropped the bottle of water, and it burst open all over the kitchenette floor. Cleaning the mess up ans physical agony. But I tolerated it. Many times, I would have and usually curse out allowed. I still lambasted myself, but less energetically. Not totally unflappably, rather more fatalistically. Wait until the next bladder blockage, or I lose something, or, like, like on Monday, when I knocked all the bottles in the fridge. They flooded out, one knocking the next one out and onto my Catheter bag and knee… No! I’ll put that in chronological order, or as near as I can later. Going to do a work-all-through-the-night job to catch up tonight. (Monday)
I had to get that out, sorry folks. I’ll try not to moan anymore in this poor, rushed blog.
Doing this opening bit, I misspelt a word eighteen times, and four times the word I was about to type. Was I bothered? Not much, cause I was in an uplifted mood as Carer Mirza had just called. It’s wearing off…
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My memory’s too bad, but I know it was taken on Sunday, because I can see it on the old-fashioned clock. I’d guess it was at about 05:45hrs. Hehe!
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Must be night now.
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Apologies again for this blog.
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MONDAY 2nd NOVEMBER 2026
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0520hrs: I moved gingerly and was pleasantly surprised by the degree of pain the ailments were giving me.
‘I checked, yes, I’d got a pulse.’ Haha!
I carefully removed the night pouch from the Catheter. I say carefully, cause there was an awful lot of urine stretching the strength of my nocturnal Catheter bag.
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I was pottering about, starting different things and completing very few of them, and remembered I had not recorded the nighttime ratings for the urine. I was in the wet room emptying & rating the count and the colour, and my possibly imagined EQ communicated with me.
“Watch yourself today”. I sneered at him.
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I got the computer on after sorting the waste bins and washing the pots; the Carer arrived. He got the socks on. Helped set the TV recorder for me. Departed.
I decided to get some flavoured water bottles and store them in the fridge. Things were going fairly well up to now. I’ve only dropped a handful of things so far.
The first 
of the day.
Putting the bottles in the fridge, I had a right knee give way, which made me grab the fridge to prevent me from going down on the floor. Knocking the full bottles out of the fridge, I tried to stop them, but like Skittles, they knocked each other and tumbled out.
I hit my right knee and shins. Clearing things up left me bruised, bleeding, and sore, with a hurting ingrown toenail. I’d nearly picked up all the bottles when I thought I’d photographed what was left to do. Then went to check out the Catheter contraption in case it had been damaged or dangerous. It all seemed fine, only me injured.
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Then I went off, starting to do other things and changing to another task. None got finished. Sorting the towels, Hoovering, making a brew that was left to go cold.
Sillily, I did work on the blog and always left it when someone came, even when no one was here! Each time I got back to the computer, all I did was correct mistakes made earlier. Grrr!
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, AGAIN
This time the right leg gave was as I was sorting the laundry bag out. I went down on my right knee. I’d just about finished cleaning it up, and Carer Ejaz arrived. He moved the contraption back onto the left leg. Issued medications and made me a mug of Glengettie. He needed to leave; time was up – a short visit. Thanks!
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I’VE SODDING-WELL DONE IT AGAIN, again, again!
A low point of the day!
Lost all the work I’d done on CorelDraw! The worst of it is that I was trying to save it, and it froze! Had to save & close MS Word, MS Excel, Notepad, Grammarly, WordPress, then Windows; had to disconnect everything and turn off the power. Left it for ten minutes and rebooted. Windows came on; I opened and checked every program, but I lost the save in CorelDraw, which opened an auto backup file from yesterday! I lost all the work I did in the last three hours!
I just laughed it off. Ahem!
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: AGAIN!
I bent down to release the urine from the bag into the jug. My hand got cramps, and it was painful bending that far down, so I rushed through it. A mistake that was!
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Carer Prem made the last call. Gawd, the lad looked worn out and so tired. I declined any painkillers; it was mental pain I was struggling with. What can go wrong next?
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Minutes from 01:00hrs now. I’ll make sandwiches for my meal. My hope is I don’t fall asleep, have a seizure, or feel guilty and get up to wash & shave. Hope to be back in the morning. Oh, it is morning!
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I’m back, Tuesday morning now.
I made a large, no-cook meal, and it was superb;
Well, it tasted lovely anyway.
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My large imitation smoked ham sarnies in farmhouse bread; plenty of no-butter-butter. Tomatoes, potato-curls, Stilton cheese, pickle and mini cooked beetroots.
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Despite the calamities incurred!
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Toothache Tiffany
Inchie Today: Saturday 31st October 2026
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SATURDAY 31st OCTOBER 2026
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An untypical start to today. As I slid and tumbled hastily off the bed, I trod on something that painfully forced a mild naughty word or two from my lips. More authentic, almost poetic words followed, and disbelief, as I realised I’d trodden on the ‘repaired-the-day-before Kodak Tim 2 camera!’ I lost my balance and fell against the back of the recliner. I caught the side of my face, and that started 
it off.
Depression kicked off, and more naughty, self-lamasting language was emitted. It remains an unsolved mystery why I even got the camera with me when I got my head down. I’ve never slept with a camera in my pyjamas before. Haha! Well, I don’t think I have. I didn’t take any painkillers, as a Carer would be arriving.
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I went into the kitchenette and took this misty photograph of the offer view. Then the ‘Oh, Susanna’ chimed from the front door. The Carer Cometh. Andrew. No neck cream, no body check. No barrier cream. No hoovering. However, he made me brew of Glengettie; Andrew made a decent job of it. Meds given out.
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I took off the small buds or nodes growing from the potatoes and put them in a bowl to add to the slow cooker for tonight’s meal. Which was going to be spuds, 
and fresh garden peas. Beetroot and chestnuts. I dropped many of the spuds’ nodes on the floor, and they rolled into any hole, nook, or cranny they found to hide in.
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Jenny came to have a natter with me, and gave good advice on my problems. Bless her.
Angel Jenny emailed me, kindly offering two of her butcher-bought large sausage rolls from the freezer.
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I was making progress with the backlog of blogs I had. But it was painfully slow progress. Concentration was the problem, or rather the lack of concentration. I looked up this problem, thinking it may be linked to my Alzheimer’s disease with Lewy Body Dementia and Vascular Dementia. But it seems more likely that my Peripheral Neuropathy is the cause, or they both share the blame. (Dopamine: a type of monoamine neurotransmitter and hormone made in the brain that acts as a chemical messenger to communicate signals between nerve cells) and overwhelm: When a task feels too baffling, big, boring, or difficult, your brain looks for an escape hatch, leading to task-switching, procrastination, or task paralysis. (a state where you feel mentally “stuck” and completely unable to start or complete a task, even though you want to and know it needs to be done)
I sound intelligent, don’t I? I Googled this!
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Frank came up with them; they were so different from the normal ones. Packed solid with a tasty meaty filling. I left them out on the kitchen top to defrost and plan to have them with my meal tonight. Or was this yesterday?
Struggling gain!
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I went 
to take a photo from the kitchenette window; the photo didn’t get taken, though. Because I hit my head on the corner of the window frame as I opened it to take the snap. This snap is from when I bashed my head in the wet room when my right leg gave way; I used that one again.
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Carer Imran arrived. We decided on what level of pain relief I needed, and it was issued. He did a body check, barrier cream on my blobby belly – I have to lift it for him so he can get at the lesions. It’s got that ginormous. Haha!
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Back to the computer, and my productivity was stunted even further, as I procrastinated and dilly-dallied from one task to another. I was in as full-a-flow as could be, working on the blog, and my TBI’d cerebrum decided I needed to stop and make a food order for next week. Why? Gawd knows! Then I put more things on the back burner, because I wanted more of the Lemon Wafers, but I couldn’t remember where I got them. A Google search revealed that Asda had that brand in stock, but only after I found that J Sainsburies, Iceland, and Morrisons don’t sell them. Then, when I went to place an order with Asda, I found they were out of stock! Also, I had already placed an order with them. Well, I must have got some from somewhere; I’d just opened the last packet.
A search for any brand of Lemon Puffs was carried out on Google; they all but Iceland had that brand in, but those ones are a smidge hard for my poor deteriorating teeth.
As if by some form of sorcery, I found myself hoovering the hallway. I’d done this a few hours earlier!
Then I sorted the laundry things out. Back to the computer, I found many emails and went through them. And back to the blog. I saw how many mistakes I’d made and wanted to cry, but I didn’t; it turned into self-loathing. After a self-moody, I started making things right.
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Carer Imran looked so tired. He still did a decentish job, mind you. Offered a body check. Heat-treated my back and creamed the back of my neck. Said it had red marks on it now. It does get sore more; I’m sure I’ll endure!
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Now the computer plays up! Followed, or it might be part of the same problem, whatever it is, CorelDraw is sticking; had to close down manually twice!
Not that this bothered me, of course.
Not a man of my supreme intelligence, patience, calm, relaxed attitude, and imperturbable, unflappable, tranquil, placid nature; I’m well known for it.
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Carer Prem did the last call in fine form.
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THE MEAL OF THE DAY
💗 Thanks, Jenny! 💗
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Early morning snaps of the sky & horizon.
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Not very good, are they?
I fell asleep as the football came
on the TV. Went to get some
more water to feed the Catheter
through the bladder when I took
these. Maybe I was out of joint
for missing the footy?
Especially missing Man City,
losing a match – Cragknagles!
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Inchie: Thursday 29t/Fri 30st October 2026
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THURSDAY 29th OCTOBER 2026
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First of two food deliveries,
Fridge
Fresh garden peas.
Slurp!
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Aha, very late, but I got the Kodad-Tim-two working, with the help of some elephant tape! Food delivery due anytime now, and unfortunately the Carer as well. Not one of the best. Missing so many things. He did go to Sherwood to see the audio shop about making an appointment to have my ears dewaxed.
The Closed!
Google Maps photo.
Reality Photo
But I later discovered it was open.
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Vagaries lingered; confusion ruled.
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FRIDAY 30th OCTOBER 2026
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An even worser flipping day!
When Ejaz came on a longer call, he rang and made an appointment for me for the Dewaxing of the earholes. Bless his cotton socks. DID A GREAT JOB! For 11th November, at 12:00hrs, he arranged for a Carer to call at 11:30hrs, to give us time to dress me and get to the shop in time, using the bus. It cost more than I’d hoped; it will cost me £150 for both ears. I later got an email with a fairly long Q&A session from them. I filled it in and sent it back. Health history mostly. Grand lads, Ejaz & Mirza!
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Email from Jenny
Jenny; she is so kind to me. “I call her my Angel.” X
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I’m amazed; I’ve lost so many photos from the computer; I’m angry at myself too! Really so! Things got worse!
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I got myself all worked up when things went wrong.
Thankfully, a Caring, and understanding Carer, Ejaz, was here when my depression and self-loathing began. Bless him. But he won’t call again until next week.
So many things happened consecutively. An unbelievable series of droppages, self-disgust, and things filled my head each time. The worst is not easy to pick… these may be out of order. And some will be missing, because I got all het-up with my failings; and there were so many, over such a short time. I think I was more affected this time.
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Losing the photographs and not knowing how I lost them started the frustration.
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Then I made mistakes in recording what had taken place, and Ejaz began to correct them…
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As I reached for the notepad to check some items on it;
I KNOCKED THE MUG OF TEA OFF THE DESK!
It fell into an open drawer where I keep paperwork I’ll likely need later. Medical dosages.
What a stonking mess!
I had to throw away so many papers, reminders and mail. Most had partly disintegrated by the time we got them out of the drawer. Tea had leaked through to the cupboard below. More mail was destroyed in there.
My fury was scaring me! Talk about going from a decent moment into the depths of… well, despair, self-loathing. Especially after Ejaz had done such magnificent jobs for me, I was so frustrated. Even more so when, in the chaos of sorting things and not doing a good job of it, I believe I sank into a rare seizure. This has happened only once before. I could see but not hear what was going on as Ejaz, and I were apparently finishing the cleaning up – or was I dreaming? I’ll never know, and I really have no idea. Ejaz did not mention it, though. So the old tortured mind was the most likely reason. Or, summat else. This only caused me more confusion. I can recall Ejaz telling me that Jenny had told him on the phone? What it was is a blank memory-wise. Should I be worried?
When this vague idea came to me much later, I accepted the situation rather easily; not that I understood it.
Now it concerns me, but not a lot?
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Carer Mirza made the teatime call hours later, while I was oddly ordering food for next week. I’d lost track again. My mind wandered; I started doing things, not finishing any, before beginning something else, unrelated.
What Mirza thought, I don’t know. Yet I recall a lot of his visit; rightly or wrongly is still in abeyance. I fear I may have been talking tommyrot. I also recall that I couldn’t get a song out of my head for hours after this incident. Fact can be stranger than fiction.
Back to Mirza’s visit. He did his usual conscientious routine, which was brilliant and caring. He reminded me to take the socks off, which he did. Emptied the pouch 
and recorded the details on the pad. Set up a new pad for me. Nowt on it yet, of course. Checked the Catheter for comfort. Asked if I’d had my daily meal, and checked 
the Bombay potatoes with peas added in the crock pot for me. I remembered all this, with few uncertainties. Mizra suggested I put some more tomato juice in the pot. So, I 
did. The lad did the safety checks, and when I told him how far I was behind with the blogging, thinking I’d never get yesterday’s finished, let alone start today’s. He suggested I make a double one, then post it when I catch up. This I am going to do. I also seem to clearly recall that, as he left, he said not to forget the cooker when I reheat the potatoes, and to try not to worry. (I’d told him of the tea-spilling incident). We bade farewells, with a little hug. Just what I needed then.
Thanks today to Carers Mirza, Ejaz, & Prem care.
Plus, of course, to my Angel! 💗
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Around 20:20hrs, I think, Carer Prem did the last call.
He emptied the pouch; there wasn’t much in it, and he tightened the top gripper, which made me scratch at the itch it caused. I moved the top grip when I scratched.
Not a good idea. Blood flowed from the old 
wound under the grip strap and pulled off the crust of dried blood, releasing newly drawn haemoglobin. I took these two photographs of the accifauxpas result. Haha!
We both laughed at how my bad luck is never-ending.
But by now, after the last three days of mayhem, I was in a resigned-mode, assisted by a belated but long visit from a 
!
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Here I am now, 01:15hrs, pressing on with this two-day Inchie WP blog. However, hunger and tiredness forced me 
to stop. I noticed at the bottom of the new pad and recalled Ejaz writing something I must remember on it. All I had to do was read it… But I’m blown if I can decipher it? Had I done whatever it was reminding me to?
Can any of the flood of followers I have help at all?
Either of you. Please. I may be able to in the morning; or should I say later in the morning, when the mind and body may be a little more alert? Back in the morning to finish off; not much left to do, unless the memory box reactivates. TTFN till then. (He says, shooting off to the
Porcelain Throne. First visit of the day, no, first visit on Saturday. Oh, I hope I don’t fall asleep on the WC!
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Inchie: Tues/Wed 27/28th October 2026
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TUESDAY 27th OCTOBER 2026
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A bigger mess than usual today. Please forgive any repetitions, omissions, or cock-ups.
If I get any further behind, I’ll have to give up the blog. That’s the last thing I want, but the practicalities suggest it will happen. Heartbreaking!
Just so much happening medically, and me suffering mentally… no, it has to be said and accepted. But can I?
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The ever-returning sciatica…
Seizures and Anne Gyna,
The ever-blocking Catheter,
Painwise, there’s nothing worser,
Confirmed: I’m now an Alzheimer,
With Lewy Body & Vascular Dementia,
Now I’m a palterer, a prevaricator,
Brought on mayhap by my apraxia?
PN, TBI, DCD… now ambisinister,
I’m a changed person, character,
Can’t enjoy a good clishmaclaver.
When talking, I can’t remember…
What I was saying; gone forever!
My chinwag topic? Off in the ether,
I don’t think it’s Cacodemonomania,
They’ve not yet diagnosed cachexia…
My cerebrum can leave me disinure,
My concentration’s like a didapper,
I’ll get back to my usual dysphoria…
Think MP, freebooter, backhander…
Or was that just Keir Starmer?
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WEDNESDAY
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I’ve mixed up some days’ photos & tales of. Sorry.
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Scab came off the knee.
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My Angel Jenny came up to the flat, and she and Carer Ejaz set about communicating with British Gas to sort the arrangement for, promised eight times and failed to show BG engineer to sort out the electricity meter. A quick explanation of why.
Almost two years ago, the oligarchs from British Gas started asking of a meter reading. But we could not read it. It seems that I’m the only flat with an old meter. Different to all the others. Confused yet? I am already. Cause I know what’s coming.
Veiled threats of cutting me off. Warnings that the meter might not work properly and I’d lose power. They will have to cut me off if I don’t give them a reading. Carer Ejaz took on the oligarchs! But it was of no use. Eventually, I was told they were sending an engineer to check the meter. No one came. Ejaz rang yet again. He was given telephone numbers to ring. Which the lad did. He a well-pissed of voice that said, “I am fed up to my back teeth with BG giving out and telling disgruntled customers our number – we are connected to BG in any way! Do not ring back! Ejaz kept ringing; they (supposedly) arranged more visits and assured us they would come. Now, on the eighth failed oligarchal BG appointment, lovely Jenny came up to the flat while Ejaz was here and tried to find out what’s going on.
I, unfortunately, had a seizure while the business chat got more farcical and brazen lies were given out by BG. Carer Ejaz explained what had gone on while I was out-of-it; he wrote it down for me on a pad.
They had only given Jenny the same number to ring!
The poor gal did so and got rebuffed for calling them, like Ejaz did over a year ago. They asked a long time ago for a photo of the meter. Ejaz told them he had already taken photos and emailed them to BG 6 months ago. Poor Ejaz and Jenny. Jenny gave up, and I can’t blame her. She suggested I stop the debit payments after I told them my intentions and why. I’m not in a good state right now to do anything about it. Why? I’ll tell you.
More seizures, lost blood from the knee scab, and this morning… when I woke about three o’clock, I was in a lot of discomfort bladder-wise. I grabbed the torch and checked the night Catheter bag; it was empty! Yep, the flowback was getting more and more painful. It was verging on agony, far worse than ever.
I started guzzling water for two hours, barely stopping, to get it flowing again. No, nothing. But all the drinking was making the pain worse than ever.
Carer Andrew arrived, and I asked him to call the district nurses for me. I was so appreciative when they said someone would call on me. And they did not tell me to go to the hospital A&E by taxi.
It was a painful wait, and I was losing it when the nurse came in. She soon got me sorted; thank her very much. X
I admit I got a smidge worried over the next two hours, as nothing flowed. I was on the verge of bothering the nurses again when I saw tiny droplets of urine going down the tube, not a flow as such. I kept drinking all the time, and after another half hour, it started to fill the bag, very slowly. I think things are getting back to normal now.
Which eased my mind. I had a mini seizure, and decided to sit on the bed… talk about lucky, I WAS!
As I neared the bed, an instant dizzy spell had me over. What a fantastic landing on the soft bed! Yee-Haa!
That so beats landing on the floor!
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Better get a meal sorted now. Bacon sarnies, methinks.
Back in the morning… Catheter permitting.
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Bacon bits, on flatbread, boiled & soy-sauced small spuds, and some teriyaki sauce for dipping. Nice!
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Inchie Today: Sunday 25th October 2026
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Sometimes, I fear for the future…
Though the past was no better,
Maybe some hope for the future?
I think maybe they were healthier,
Archaeologists never found an inhaler,
May I be reborn as a Neanderthaler?
They caved in Germany, so did Hitler,
He hid in his underground bunker,
Our DNA is similar to a troglodyter,
Even if heathen & bad-mannered,
We’ve a shared ancestry; I just read,
Politicians should be anathematised,
Instead, the buggers were praised,
If the souls are reborn, rebred…
Zombified, liquefied, or putrefied?
How soon after, how long dead?
Plenty of more options, instead…
Crucified, repurposed, transmogrified?
The unlucky in life, humiliated,
The poor; can be debourgeoisified?
Are they made rich, oligarchalised?
What of those rich on earth? Bribed,
Taught compassion, or rediscerned?
To see suffering; and be concerned?
Many souls arrive, so disenchanted,
Expecting to be interrogated,
At St Peter’s Gate they waited,
Every action to be accounted,
Punishment to be administered?
Justice has to be distributed,
But the poor are not disappointed!
They will not get reannointed…
No sentencing back to life enforced,
For victims, those Oligarchled…
They’ll be Heavenly accommodated,
Warmongers, killers are rebirthed,
The baddest, greediest, the worst,
Born once again back on the earth,
Which explains, for what it is worth,
Along with prison absconders…
Killers, conmen, liars, muggers,
The guilty who are not apologisers,
All selected with assiduousness,
The politically bent & ambiguous,
Is why good humans are ablatitious,
We’ve so many less altruists…
Politicians are the baddest,
Our hopes are the crappiest,
And I have got verbal incontinence.
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SUNDAY 25th OCTOBER 2026
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Good Morning!
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Mudflow in the car park
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Spot of drizzle
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Legs lost a lot of weight
Looking a smidge better, though.
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Not drinking enough water, naughty!
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Inchie Today: Saturday 25th October 2026
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Quicky Again, Folks.
I Thang You!
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Inchie: Fri-Sat-Sunday 19th October 2026
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FRIDAY 16th OCTOBER 2026
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Right leg wounds are much better.
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Tried to clear the Carer’s desk a bit
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🍅Food Glorious Food!🍅
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Vegan smoked cheese, frozen seasoned chips,
Sweet & Sour chicken meals.
Pot noodles and soft milk roll bread
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A Carer arrived at 13:00hrs with eight letters he’d collected from the hallway letterbox.
After he’d departed, I began to investigate the mail.
They were all from the Alzeiners Association. Offering information on my two new Dementias. Advice on coping. They also offered opportunities to attend various association meetings and explained what they involved. Ejaz later estimated what taxis and carers would cost and, using Google Maps, how far away each one was.
I got more envelopes opened. My head was spinning. Confusion grew, and I made a brew.
I returned to open the last, larger package; inside was a 96-page booklet. Along with the letters, I had 16 email addresses to contact, 21 telephone numbers, and 12 addresses that might be useful.
I was totally bamboozled, confused… at a loss.
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I wanted to ask Ejaz to phone Oligarchal British Gas about their 8th failed promise that an engineer would call, even after Ejaz was given a confirmed, guaranteed two-hour window when he last rang them, for this record-breaking 8th engineer or electrician no-show.
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Late afternoon
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SATURDAY 17th OCTOBER 2026
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Right leg clearing… or is it?
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Started these blogs, darned hard work in the mood I’m in.
My mind is in mayhem and wandering.
But I’m determined to get this done if it takes me the rest of Sunday night & into Monday. I am a fool!
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Morning snap
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Lunchtime
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Evening or morning.
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SUNDAY 18th OCTOBER 2026
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Was the surprise of the day. On Sunday morning, I was at my lowest ebb, well, ever.
Memories of some of the things that happened on Saturday were churning in my head, unstoppable.
I was so low, and with no one to talk to, and embarrassingly, I phoned Jenny. Just to express my fear of what is happening to me. Depressed, self-loathing, along with the reality that it is not going to get any better again. Old age, the Dementias, the expectation that the Catheter is going into backup mode again, and this may clash with Tuesday’s visit to the Audio Centre to get both hearing aids checked out again. Even the train of my self-mutterings got mixed up and lost. I rambled on verbally telling Jenny how I felt. Ashamed of how I was not coping very well. Not even certain of all that I did speak of now. But when Jenny, a great listener and so understanding, went to get Frank’s food cooked, I almost instantly felt somehow less harassed, less anxious. and visits from High Horis, short and sharp but repetitive, sent me into several ‘Sod-It-all’ moments. Nothing changes, of course, other than I seem to accept things and block others out at the same time. It took me ages to put into words what I just wrote. This gave me the power to try to catch up on the blogs. The only breaks for the next eight hours were Carers calling, moments, few and incredibly short, of utter depression; the unaccountable ‘sod-it’ highs persisted. None of this makes sense, I know.
Ah, well, must get some more done.
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Cleaned the inside of the fridge this afternoon. Not voluntarily, mind you. There was water all over the place in there that needed tending to. This brought back a mini-depression; at the thought of it breaking down and needing to buy a new one. With the Carer’s extra hours, the £430-a-week cost will increase to, well, I don’t really know. Has to be near to… I’d better not mention it.
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Finished drying the fridge out, and put the towels on the airer, and kitchen towels in the bin. A very slight feeling of satisfaction came over me, no idea why, and I put the kettle on to make a brew and did some more sorting of the empty boxes in the bedroom. Then an unwanted, deep, dark, dank depression set in as I realised I should have tackled this long ago. A few minutes later, though, I was glad they were scattered there…
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Stepping over the dryer, I lost my balance and my walking stick and fell forward. I don’t know what on or against, but I gave my snozzle a clout; it bled a smidge. It was a bit of a shock; it happened so quickly, but thankfully those boxes broke my fall! But the best part was that I didn’t hit the floor, because one of the boxes on the bottom still had some things in it. It took the scab on my left knee right off, and as I was concentrating on grabbing the ottoman nearby, I felt no pain. Best of all, I got up on my own, with the help of the spare walking frame at hand. I went into the wet room to clean up my knee, and my balance must have been off, because I walked into the doorframe on the way in. That did hurt.
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I made a lovely-smelling meal that not many would appreciate, but I was going to eat it later. Bombay potatoes from a can. Cooked some baby spuds in soy-sauced water. Added garden peas and sweetcorn. I’m not supposed to eat sweetcorn according to the list of dos and don’ts. But I’ve not had any for about twelve years, so I did.
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I left it in a microwave pot, put the lid on, put it in the fridge, and got back to this blog. Carer Prem arrived; I like this lad. He always gets the torch
and TV glasses on the ottoman for me. Does safety checks, checks my body, takes off my socks, and checks the dates on stuff in the fridge. Cheers, Prem!
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Inchie: Sunday 11th October 2026
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SUNDAY 11th OCTOBER 2026
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0615hrs: I stirred in the recliner where I’d fallen asleep.
I started a body check, groping, moving and stretching to test out the morning’s ailment situation.
An amazing feeling spread all over me and through my brain. It took me a while to identify it. After musing through the possibilities, it came back to me, and I nervously realised… wait for it… Scary stuff!
I Felt Almost on the verge of Contentment!
Exercise over, I rose on my feet without any dizziness of balance problems! I picked up the nocturnal Catheter pouch and carried it into the wet room to check the quantity and colour, then emptied it.
I thought I’d have a wash & shave while I was in there. That idea was squashed when I found the hot water was running cold. My instant reaction was semi-panic, thinking I might have left the kitchenette tap running. Alzheimer’s disease with Lewy body Vascular Dementia had struck again. At this stage, Anne Gyna kicked off and stayed with me all day, bless her.
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A similar turn as yesterday started. Confusion, lack of concentration, and I did not care. I was so fed up with things, failures, dropping and walking into things, with an air of almost resignation. Carer Edward did the first visit; honestly, he’s about as useful as an ornament.
Carer Imran did the next two, with a lot more listening and a more willing attitude than Andrew. Not a bad lad, but Andrew does not listen when I ask him to do things. Helpful things; he’s on his mobile for most of any visit. He reminds me of a young 1970s British Railways, British 
Leyland or Miner’s Trade Unionist. Which reminds me of an ornament of sorts I have atop of the non-working electric fire. Yes, it’s a squeaky Maggie! 💙
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Further along, it’s rare, singular proof that I actually won someone once. I’m not sure of the year, but I had some hair on my head, not yet had a stroke, duodenal ulcer rupture, a mechanical aorta-valve installed, my hernia, been shot, no haggard drawn features, as far as I can see, no glaucoma, cataracts, double pneumonia, burst eardrum, broken bones at all, no elephantine stomach weighing me down, no arthritis, TBI, dementia, had a two-up two-down house, garage, car. I had sex a minimum of three times a week… Happy Days!
I was being presented with an angling cup for winning a match on the Leicester Canal.
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Carer Imram took these snaps of the state of my left leg when he checked out my body for areas in need of barrier cream. He asked if anyone checked my Catheter.
“Do they not put the cooling cream og the scratches that you itch at night?” (No), “Does the Catheter get moved to the other leg weekly? (No),
He medicated things.
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An email arrived saying the biscuits would arrive in a two-hour window. With the intercom not working, I made sure I got down to the foyer to let the delivery man in at 
the start of the window.
They arrived with one minute to spare, and I was amazed to see the driver use his own swipe card to get in! Went up with me to the flat and put the boxes on the floor in the doorway. I got the bikkies into glass jars, devouring a couple as I did.
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Got myself in a pickle with the numbers on the health check sheet again! So many errors, and they cost me even more time as the day progressed. Frustrating!
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Talk about losing it again. No wonder I make so many mistakes. I started updating the blog, turned on the TV, and fell asleep in the chair for about two hours!
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The Carer was here when I searched for the finger blood tester and found the new Kodak FZ243 camera I purchased many months ago and never opened. Backs of the 
old and new ones above.
Fronts of them below.
I was overjoyed at being able to use the old camera’s indoor option. But this was not to be! The new camers 
doesn’t have that option anymore, damn it; that is one of the reasons I got that camera! (Although I forgot I had, Tsk!) The other was my familiarity with using it.
Setting it up was a struggle and a half for me.
I’m not kidding, it took me over an hour to set the time and date, and the new one doesn’t let me use British English or change the format to what we are used to, just American Month-Day-Year. Humph! I loved that indoor option, too! Double-Humph!
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Still bright late afternoon
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Vacuuming session
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Inchie Today: Saturday 10th October 2026
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SATURDAY 10th OCTOBER 2026
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Sorry, but today was even more nightmarish than the last few days. I was told my favourite biscuits were arriving, so I did nothing for a two-hour delivery window. I waited in the foyer for the delivery. As the intercom wasn’t working, I feared I’d miss them, or they would leave them downstairs in the foyer. I hoped they would arrive earlier rather than later. However, while waiting, I met some folk I hadn’t seen in many months. Had a natter with Cynthia, and she kept watch while I nipped up to empty my Catheter pouch and double-check I’d got the timing right. Bless her. I saw the van pull up outside and got ready to dismount the chair I’d settled into… and the driver swiped it with his own swipe? Checked the flat number & name, and he carried the boxes up to the flat for me. The computer was occasionally doing its own thing. Several times, dizziness incapacitated me for long periods. Not sure what the cause was.
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Jenny called and emailed, pointing out that I hadn’t completed the template message to the Carers asking certain Carers to service me. She also pointed out that my landline was giving her inaccessible messages.
I just did not get a chance to do either.
With two sleepless nights this week, my loss of concentration, confusion and tiredness took over.
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Falling asleep on the Porcelain Throne cost me I don’t know how long; but I’d boiled the kettle for a brew before diverting to the loo… and the water and kettle were actually cold when I got back to make the tea.
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Computer foibles continued.
The Catheter not filling, fur in the tube.
I’ve never felt so confused. Worst day ever for this.
I’m often doing, or even saying or thinking something and at any break, diversion, or change of subject, and I forget what I was doing or saying, let alone what the other person was saying, face-to-face, even on the phone. Which is most annoying and embarrassing.
When I’m alone, I constantly talk to myself out loud.
Mostly, self-aimed curse words and lambasting.
A perfect example of self-annoyance today, tragically a very common scenario for me lately: getting to the toilet too late and having unintended escapages. I cannot explain how angry this makes me. I know what may happen, but say I’m typing something (Ie: making up the Email to the Carers), and feel the motion coming on, yet still have to finish the paragraph in fear of forgetting what I was going to put. And knowing the possible result this delay may incur, I still do it! Today I forgot I was even on Email when I got back after cleaning up the mess I made. The bending gives me a backache and dizziness. So why in Hell do I do it? But I do. I don’t know.
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I wrote the above in the hope that someone who can help will read this. When the Alzheimer volunteer visits, they may be able to help me cope with these failures. I’m trying to understand & accept the inevitable myself.
It’s not easy, naturally. I feel so much for the poor souls in a similar but more advanced stage. I imagine they went through this sort of semi-awareness and suffered the anguish of knowing what is to come. 🙏🏻💗
Enough of my moaning, sorry. A few snaps taken.
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Delivery window
Driver carried the extremely large parcels up to the flat for me, dropped them in the doorway, & shot off.
A Busy lad.
The boxes were both crushed
I feared broken biscuits… But no!
Despite holes in the outer box, the
biscuits seemed okay. It was the
amazing inner box protection used
that saved the day; well done to
whoever packed them up!
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Later than usual nosh
No butter, buttered milk-roll bread,
yellow & red tomatoes, beetroot,
Strong soft French cheese, four
min pickle-topped pork pies, &
Overcooked battered chicken.
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Inchie Today: Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Thurs/Fri 8-9th October 2026
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Sorry, only did bits on Thursday.
Alzheimers effects; very bad new trends. Coccyx, District Nurses, Toothache Tiffany, Bladder bloated, new floaters. Leg shakes. Then,
agony from blocked Catheter.
Oxycodone painkillers; no effect!
So far behind; no time to catch up.
Pain; warping my poor Brain
Not that it wasn’t warped before.
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Midday clouds,
As I turned away from the window, I fell…
My right leg suddenly shook; I had a tumble,
My right knee wound started bleeding…
The door chime started ringing…
I shouted as loud as I could, “Come in”!
The postman did, & began my rescuing…
So, no need for the panic-button pressing!
Thus avoided any hospitalisationing!
I foolishy my luck was improving!
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Caer Prem made the late call; he is now part of my chosen elite band of the Carers. Ejaz, Mirza, now Prem.
I explained why I had no time to get my feet and lower legs done, and why I couldn’t have an assisted shower again (it must be eight weeks since). He said he would do it tomorrow night, but the lad would never have the time on a late call, and he got the bowl and washed my feet for me. He had to rush off after that for his last call of the day. Still found time to do safety checks and warn me about the oven being on, as with the days’ keruffe, I was late eating. I know I took a snap of the food tray… certain, positive! But it disappeared from the SD card. Yet I found one on it that of didn’t remember taking. What was the new classification given to me last week?
Alzheimer’s with LBD & Vascular Dementia? Yes!
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Evening All!
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Friday 9th October 2026
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Unfortunately, I didn’t. I did learn how to cope with more pain than I’ve ever had from the Catheter Contraption. Mostly teeth-gritting, accompanied by the use of some innovational, demiurgic, quirky, bizarre language, combined with a pathetic adoption of singularly bizarre self-pity.
It worked to a degree for the first blockage, but the second one beat me hands down. On self-lambasting, I did not skimp – But I did feel a right whimp!
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Spelling mistake? Me? Yes!
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0615hrs: I woke with a fair bit of pain coming from the bladder area of my stomach. Flowback pains! I grabbed the torch to check the nocturnal pouch on the floor near the bed. No night bag has ever had less urine than this one. Later, I identified the contents as 90ml!
The pains were slowly getting worse, especially when I mountaineered from the bed and tried to do the balance routine. I was dizzy the moment I stood up. I retrieved the pouch and wanted to ring the District Nurses straight away, but lost concentration because I needed the Porcelain Throne. As I hobbled carefully through the doorway to the toilet, I knocked a pair of washed trousers off a coat hanger and bent down to pick them up.
A big mistake that! Instead of picking them up, I joined them on the floor! Unbelievable! (well, not to me), Best I recall, the urine flowed from the penile fungal lesions; I hit my head against the door frame, trying to get into as painless a position as possible, to crawl to the recliner and try to get up on my feet again. It might have been morning, but it felt like was nightmare. The pain I put myself through getting onto my knees, and I fought through the pain and got myself onto the recliner. The knee wound was knocked in the battle; blood poured. I stayed there a few minutes, in such discomfort, and waited for the pain to ease. Which they did.
Why did I not just press the alarm-alert button on my wristlet? I’ll tell you the truth… Fear! The thought of going to hospital yet again! Which was enough to make me fight on. Thinking it is likely that I’ll still end up there to get the Catheter sorted… that place is like a torture chamber nowadays with cruel, fed-up, uncaring guards, formerly known as nurses, especially in the Urology Wards. Each of the five visits I’ve been forced to make has a constant sound of wailing, sobbing, screaming, pain-ridden patients ringing around. I could hear them while I was in the corridors waiting to be seen. Finally, I started to clean up the messes I’d made and changed plans again: get 
back to the WC sharply. During the battle to get the product moving, urine squirted out of the mini-holes in the fungal lesions. Had to put on a second pair of protection pants. I’d only just put the others on. Should I snuff it with a stroke or whatever, I wouldn’t complain. My EQ belatedly said worse was coming. Depressed? In Pain? Me?
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Carer Edward arrived as I was painfully finishing of the mess cleaning. After he gave me the medications, I asked him to ring the District Nurses. Thankfully, they would send someone to look at things. I took a morphine (Oxycodone) painkiller and a Codeine. The pain was slowly turning into agony now. After Edward merrily departed, I had to keep busy, concentrate on whatever I was doing to try to take my mind off of the excruciating pain. Something active, not computer work.
I took two snaps from the kitchen window.
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Middle field & Tree Copse
Houses opposite
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Tidied and hoovered the hallway.
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Then made up some spring and Soda water bottles.
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The nurse arrived. Rebecca, I think. A lot of things went through my head… which, normally, I just can’t keep in my head nowadays. As I recall:
1) I hoped that Becky could get the tube back in…
2) I prayed that I would not have to go to the hospital. I’d sooner go to prison.
3) I pondered whether the computer man might arrive… Silly me! Hahaha!
4) The Alzheimer’s voluntary supporter may come.
5) The Social lady, Sahra, would?
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The nurse soon had me on the bed. (Ah, memories) And put the painkiller in, then removed the tube. I think she said she would order the Catheter contraption supplies needed, then let me know the correct place to contact, email & telephone number. The new pouch filled very quickly. She emptied it and recorded the amount and colour for me. 💗
Then the big issue: getting the new tube in! She told me to take a deep breath, as she got the tube on her first effort. The pain sidipatung is a wonderful experience! I became a little like the old me, the comedian, the happy old chap. It was just great!
I was full of the joys of spring-like.
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Ejaz arrived for a long call; they’d moved it from Saturday to Friday. The lad earned his dosh today, as always. Bless him. He took the laundry down first, then we talked about the appointments we needed to make. He made me a brew of Glengettie; he always remembers how I like it, too. Then he rang the audio Clinic, to book an appointment to have both of them mended/sorted.
Confirmed by text for 12:00hrs on Tuesday 29th October. It took him ages, and he left a little late.
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I was still unaware of the time and was working on this blog. And felt the warm urine as it dripped onto my sock and slipper. The connector on the Catheter had fallen out! What a mess! I couldn’t get my socks off, and the late Carer didn’t remove them. The intercom doesn’t work every time. I had to use the pickeripper, to get a carrier bag over my left foot.
How much more can I take?
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I searched through the Carer’s medications on their desk and took another Oxycodone. Now I’m in a pickle!
Another night without any sleep, second time this week!
I dare not, for fear of the Catheter falling out again.
The bag has just stopped collecting urine, again. The flowback pain is mounting.
Now 0250hrs. What can I do?
It looks like the hospital…
ARRGH!
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I keep guzzling water, hoping of get the wee flowing.
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I’ll press on until I’m forced to get a taxi to hospital A&E.
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Ah, I’m getting a few drops of almost red urine dripping into the pouch occasionally. The pain is lessened a bit.
What’s going on? Did the connector dropping off cause this? Ah, I forgot to tell you about the toe-clipping gal; she came and cut them. Paid the £35. What a terrible day, and then a horrible sleepless night.
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I still can’t get any sleep, for fear of missing the morning’s food delivery and the extra water to drink. And of course, the intercom isn’t working again. All part of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court. With its spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, and spirits. The damned seizures, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited sanity. My faith, sanity, and logic were already waning. Worst of all, this damned non-working Catheter contraption. No sleep for two nights this week.
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I met a chap today; he visited the flat, you see,
He had, or was a BCA, MRA, LLM & LLB,
Plus a Law Master’s Degree,
Why did he come to see me?
Importantly, who was he?
Take a guess; it’s all for free!
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There is a chance, cause the bladder is now hurting me, I’ll be on a journey to the QMC,
To go through utter agony…
At the A&E, or urology,
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That’s it from me!
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