Inchie: Saturday 14th February 2026

15/02/2026 / 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

15/01/2026 / 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

Inchie: Sunday January 4th 2026

05/01/2026 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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First, I had to look up philosophy,
On the WordHippo online dictionary…
aesthetic appreciation, love of beauty?
That sounded good, certainly suited me,
I’d typed the wrong word in; philocaly,
Saw another word, ‘love of learning & letters’,
T’was a new word for me: philomathy…
Put it in my Ode dictionary, immediately,
I entered philosophy, finally,
A lot of synonyms confused me…
Love of Wisdom, credo, theory?
Academic discipline, truth, reasonably,
Outlook regarding fundamentality,
General principle (usually morality),
Branch of (non-applied) science; lost me!
Psychography: a word that’s new to Inchie…
‘A form of writing claimed not to come from the conscious thoughts of the writer, sometimes performed in a trance’ What a discovery!
I added this to my word list, Psychography.
Psychography fits me so perfectly!
Absobloodylutely! Hehehe!
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I was up, removed the nocturnal catheter bag, did my balance exercises & made the bed; all before 06:30hrs.
A very high in the sky moon was allowed through as the clouds thinned. I returned to fetch the Kodak Tim-2 camera and went back to the kitchenette to try for some decent shots of the moon. The top was a classic Inchie result; somehow, I made the moon oval. Tsk! These cond & third efforts were a little better. Even with one eye, I could see the crevices on the moon. Sadly, they did not appear in the photographs. I did my best, but it just wasn’t good enough. Failure comes regularly. Tsk!

Porc failed This morning, the visit to the Porcelain Throne went very similarly to yesterday’s. But this time, there were no whatsoever.
But… there was no evacuation yet either. I’d taken a Senna last night, thinking it might ease things along, but no. Nothing but a trickle of blood from Harold’s Haemorrhoids.

I started the computer, full of determination to get the blog finished, and today started ASAP. I actually got Saturdays finished amazingly quickly, so fast, I thought I must have missed something off? After posting it and having a perusal…
I forgot to add about the Amazon delivery for the new keyboard. I’d tracked it to Mansfield Road in Sherwood and was told I am the next drop. So I hobbled down with the three-wheeled walker to the foyer. A box was left on the table in the foyer for flat 68. A lovely lady, whom I have not seen for ages, came from the laundry room, and it was lovely to have a much-missed natter.
A man and woman passed, and both thought I had left or snuffed it. Hehe! The sweetheart helped me up with the delivery and took the box from the table to flat 68. Those few words helped boost my spirits. But at the same time, it saddened me. Will I ever be able to get out and about again? Thank you… Kragnangles! I’ve forgotten the lady’s name now.

I came across a word that I had not seen or used before, and thought I’d pop it into the words-to-list.
Carer Ejaz turned up in high leg-pulling spirits.
Handed out the medications, then he Phorpain-gelled, Back-Pain-Brenda, hoovered, and said his farewells.
I got back to the word saving…
Three hours later, I was still word-finding and adding to the list, totally oblivious of anything and everything else. The Carer arrived and brought me back to feelings of guilt and a spot of self-lambasting.

Just knocked the knife box off the kitchen shelf.
Hitting’s leg on the way down, and has burst some of the Crocodile skin.
Not feeling too good now, and have just had a mini-seizure that has left me a little confused.
Can’t get down to reach the socks, using the picker-upper might make things worse on the wound.
Going to try and get a meal made now, Faggots in gravy. These take an hour to cook in the oven. Just put them in. Walking is painful.
I’m going to sit down while it cooks.
I’ll ask Carer to check it out for me when he arrives.

Back in a bit.

Well, I didn’t get back in a bit, it is now 09:30hrs on Monday. Things went a little pear-shaped.

Late call, Ejaz worried about me, I was all over the place mentally & physically. The reason remains a mystery. When Ejaz left, he told me to get to bed ASAP The rest might help you. Bless him.

I made some faggots and gravy, photographed the dish on the tray, and they were horrible. In the morning, the photo had disappeared. I may have deleted it in my confused state.

Washed the pots, and this time I hit my left leg against the trolley. I felt the blood running underneath the sock. But could not get the sock off. I’ll ask the Carer to look at it in the morning.

Got the torch, not the usual wind-up one, that seems to have hidden itself away somewhere, and climbed into the bed. It took me a long time to drift off. Coughing, wheezing, sneezing. Reckon I’ve got a cold coming on.
The brain was all over the place; the thoughts that it produced were confusing, and, well, bonkers.

TTFNski
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Inchie Today: Thursday 1st January 2026

02/01/2026 / Inchie / 12 Comments

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Here are some things you might like to try…
A bungy jump, from a platform 1000 yards high,
You’ll feel excited, your adrenaline will fly,
Should things go wrong, perhaps you’ll die?
Fret not, cause for humankind, the end is nigh!
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Pretend to act unintentionally, conventionally,
When required, act hackneyed, platitudinously,
Cut back on moments of showing crudidity,
Why? If you live to old age, quintessentially,
Your life will turn into a genuine tragicomedy,
Dementia and insanity will not be obligatory,
You struggle to cope with worsening senility,
You’ll glean many an unexpected infirmity,
Those most rife, nasty, often unavoidably,
The ones that seem almost statutory…
That can affect you mentally and physically,
Water on the brain can be helped surgically.
On the NHS, this is not an emergency…
I was scanned, diagnosed, with no urgency…
I’ve been waiting a year now, involuntarily,
Bladder cancer was treated when I was seventy,
Arthritis, Catheter bag, deafness, duodenal ulcer,
Peripheral Neuopathy, Cramps, and Glaucoma,
Brittle bones, prostate cancer, lymphorrhea,
Early life’s things you may well remember,
Recalling today’s breakfast? That’s awkwarder,
Music from the ‘50s-’60s? So much easier
Gene Pitney’s Twenty-four Hours from Tulsa,
1950, the Ames Brothers, ‘Sentimental Me’
Frankie Vaughan, 1955, ‘Tweedle Dee’…
But anything new, I lose, inexpiably…
Memory Mangling Malcom, my incumbency,
You’ll forget when you made a mug of tea…
Get on the wrong bus, miss an appointment for neuropathy,
Leave taps running, doors open, regularly…
Yer catheter will leak, escaping pee,
Take tumbles almost weekly…
A fractured wrist, bad back, fractured knee?
Frustration will send you all hysterically,
Loneliness, well, hypothetically,
You get the odd nurse & Carer,
Disabled, you can’t get to the Doctor,
Who may put you on Apomorphia,
You forget you forgot to remember?
You build a mountain of memorabilia,
Your health is rarely avuncular… apraxia:
You’ll miss your rumpy-pumpy, so remember…
If you get a positive answer from someone tender,
Get in there, and make it an all-nighter!
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I’ve spent all day updating or recreating the lost Word files. Depression Darius paid a few cursory visits, and High-Mood Horis the odd call to put me in a couldn’t care less mode.

Having managed to stay awake last night to take some photos of the New Year fireworks. (Not too successfully). I remembered for the first time in 70 years, to say my ‘White Rabbits’ for good luck. I’ll try anything. I was shattered and slept for an unbroken six hours until the Carer arrived to wake me up. He was in fine fettle, I have to say.
After he’d departed, I got this morning’s fireword photos checked out and on file.
Gere they be. Varying results.
Not so many explosions this year, and what few that I could, against those I missed, indicate that my luck is not about to get any better. Haha!.
Kept missing the big ones. Humph!
Made a few artistic ones.
Not that I meant to.
Just caught one this time.
Not too bad.
Well…
Ayhup! Caught some!

Really got stuck into the Word files, recreating.
Lots of mistakes. Why change at my age?

Only stopped for Carer calls, emptying the catheter bag, when I stubbed my ingrowing toenail to curse a little. To make repeated mugs of tea and refill the water bottles. As of now, I still haven’t had a wash and shave… Partly because I left the hot tap running while cleaning a teacup. (Mug, but Grammarly’s AI kept changing it) I did take a few photos of the view. There was nothing else happening yet worthy of my Kodak Tim 2 recording. Slowest day for months. If I ever get off this computer and make a meal…
Stop moaning, Inchie!

Afternoon shot.
Half an hour later.
Half an hour later.
While prepping food.
To eat later.
Close up that caught the
streaky clouds in the dark.
Perhaps the best one?
The last one of this session.

Part of the prepped food for mixing nosh.
Instant potatoes today. With Leicester Cheese, no-butter butter and seasalt. Some of the chicken Polish Kielbasa (Sausages). If it hasn’t gone off yet, I’ll slice the tomato and add it later.

Now, I must get back on the blog to catch up.
Oh, earlier I sent out emails with the blog link… got an email back from Jenny🤎, saying the link didn’t take her there. I think I made this cock-up four times this week, not posting the blog. Thankfully, Jenny let me know each time, bless her.
This time, I will get back on the WP Reader, comments and email checking.
Back soon or in the morning if not.

Good Morning.
I got caught up on WP, if nothing else.
Cataract Katie was too bad to continue.
So caught up this Friday morning.
Not a lot to add… very little…

I spend a long time getting the meal sorted.
Mixing the potatoes with sea salt, Leicester Cheese, cheese granules, and no-butter butter was a long job. By the time I finished it, the spuds were cold!
I added a can of garden peas to it as an afterthought. Cut my finger opening the can. No fret, I’ve plenty of ointments and plasters in the drawer.

I got it on the tray and took several photographs of it, hoping to take a decent one. Huh!… this is the best one of the five taken with Kodka-Tim-2.
As you can see, it was a good snap, even for me.
In the morning, my lost photographical skills continued. But you’ll see the mess I made of them on the next blog. That is assuming that the Lord does not return, World War and the apocalypse don’t arrive, or I have another seizure and kick the bucket.

TTFN

Inchie: Fri 5 Dec 25. Went on a right downer today. Betterer now, though.

06/12/2025 / Inchie / 11 Comments

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Welcome to Inchie Today. As per, I’ve suffered so many mistakes and faux pas today, I don’t think I can recall them all, and don’t even feel up to it. Endless problems unsolved, and I can’t envisage them ever being solved or sorted. Depression like never before. Amazon tell me they have delivered my order – they did. But instead of getting two flat hats and six packets of Bombay sauce, I got two bottles of carpet shake and freshen thingies with some sort of implement wrapped between them. There was no name or address on the box or the clear plastic wrapping on the carpet reshener. Huh! Now I have to find someone to help show me how to inform Amazon. Like most Oligarchs, they make it hard to complain about anything to them.
My heart is not in it today, for the first time ever. I thought surely today I could have a rest from the constant flow of problems. No!

The day started with the same ailments and confusion that the last six days have, and Dark Darius came on after I’d taken these two, not-so-bad shots of the moon this morning. This quality would usually have cheered me up, but the feeling of hopelessness, frustration, and, as I said, Depression clung like glue as one failure, mistake, or accusation after another harassed me. I fear feeling like this has brought on a new aspect; I’m thinking of how to express it. Well, I suppose I’ve just given up. Now, shave, shower or wash, and cannot be bothered. I don’t want food; a dejection lingered all day, but late on, when the Amazon incident happened, I reached a new depth of hopelessness. I pray things change soon, attitude-wise. I’m a little like a zombie. I’ll keep trying. But genuinely fear the way I am unbelievably low, at this moment.

Too many things are going wrong with no help or hope of anything changing; well, they might get worse, but not any easier to cope with. Medically, all those promises of help given to me in the hospital came to zilch. Thinking back to this week’s cock-ups made me feel even worse. Two failures to get to the wet room on time. I’ve still not got that cleaned up after them. The Carers’ one extended visit a week has been used up with one helping me get to the dentist, next week the opticians. The laundry has been done, but it came back wet. Further shame: the times I’ve not closed the catheter tap properly… or may have caught it on something, I don’t know. They think, and say it is simple, closing a loose valve, and just say “Just make sure it’s closed properly”. Which sounds smug to me.

This week has seen me leave the hot water tap running and the water getting cold, on 5 or six days. Twice on Tuesday. So, I have an excuse not to have a shave and shower? And my BO must be bad now. It’s not like a High Horis event, when I get the ‘Sod-em-all’ attitude at all. It’s more severe, worse. I know what I’m doing and just can’t muster the interest to do owt – never been like this before in my life. All I create is self-hatred and loathing for being so pathetic. It’s like I’m sinking.

It’s like when I can’t find something or recall names and dates. But not when you have Peripheral Neuropathy. I lose the sense of touch quite often, particularly this week gone by. I’ve dropped countless items; the ones I remember that caused me even more bother were dropping the slow cooker bowl when taking it to the kitchen sink to clean. Not only did it land on my ingrowing toenail, but the leftover food spilt down my legs, one leg strapping, undersocks and into my slipper.
Tuesday, I think it was, I could not let go of a mug of tea with my right hand; it’s usually that one. And while going to stand over the sink, kicked off. I knocked some things off of the draining board and hit the under-the-sink cupboard door that I’d left open.
Then, of course, there was this week’s tumble. That may have been my fault as I got up too quickly, and went down, gratefully via the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner.
An ambulance was called, and a delivery driver helped me back onto my feet. The ambulance was cancelled.
Call from the nurses, the ambulance is back on, but it will take about 4 hours to get here.
So, I got things ready, the trolley out of the balcony, filled the box with nibbles and NHS paperwork, dressed and waited. A cardiac nurse phoned for a Q&A session. Ambulance cancelled. Two hours later, an ambulance arrived. Argh!
Did all the tests, and left a report, and let me stay at home. And now, days later, I’ve still got stuck in the wet room.
Indeed, when we could not find the INR dosage sheet, and three of us searched all over, a Carer yesterday remembered that I put it in the walker box in the medical folder when we went to the opticians, and he retrieved it. Yahoo! Blaming me for forgetting where it was. Blamed me! Hahaha!

Then there have been two loose valve catheter leakages. Today’s leak soaked one foot, night shirt, socks, leg straps and slippers. And the bloody carpet again. Luckily, a Carer came as I’d gingerly got a bowl with hot water and Dettol to wash my feet. Thanks, mate. Now I’ve got all the extra laundry to do. Slippers and khagoule socks to be handwashed and air-dried. I’ll never get caught up. Bending and stretching bring on the dizzies and loss of balance.
I pray someone in the medical world reads this blog. Then again, I’m not interested, just guilty of giving up. But I’ve taken some photos, so I’m going to put them on, and they might prompt the old battered memory box. I can’t believe I’m writing this pathetic, mardiness-ridden rubbish. I might be unknowingly inspiring myself by reading it back and pulling my socks up. That’s another problem: I can’t get my own socks on. I can get the socks off sometimes, but usually end up tearing them with the picker-upperer.

A Carer arrived as I was typing this, the last call of the day. And I felt a little better in myself. I got this updated on Saturday morning.

Second view photo.

Third view photo.

Fourth view photo.
The rain started.

4-Wheeled Walker Walker,
still in the wetroom.

Multi-Tasking.
Computer & TV.

Handwashed the wee-wee’d on
Gown and socks, slippers
went in the laundry basket…
AGAIN!

End car park.

Teatime sky, lovely!

Tasty Nosh!

At the end of the day.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Down, but not out!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
What don’t I worry about?
Well, basically, nowt…
Starmer? Well, there’s a doubt,
Death? Prepared to rinthereout,
My successes? Add up to nought,
I have a metaphorical walkabout…
When ailments let me get out,
Help & sanity? I keep a lookout…
Locally, visually hereabout,
My brain gets the odd brownout,
Seizures; limbs go on a gadabout,
After-effects? An acrid gaseous eruct,
I’m used to them now, so no freakout!
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

TTFNski!

Inchie Today: Saturday 18th October 2025

19/10/2025 / Inchie / 9 Comments

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THE RAW POTATO
Why is it here, beside a worm & a centipede?
He’s told his mother was but a seed,
In his short life, he’s never peed,
Rained on, yes, and he got very soiled,
From his birth home, he was roughly freed,
His family was thrown in a tractor and stored,
Being a big spud, he was selected to be baked…
But Inchie liked him, and he was adopted…
It changed his life forever as the oven heated,
Potato’s essence was to be adulterated…
Destined to be beaten up with cheese & roasted!
But a change of mind, Inchie decided…
Out came a knife, Potty was segmentated…
Sliced, and he was cruelly cut up & chipped!
THE BURNT CHIP
Potato was cut up and thrown into the air fryer,
His skin gone, his shape did alter…
Talk about hot, but it didn’t matter…
His life had not seen laughter or glamour,
Just inactivity, gore, mud, creepy-crawlies galore,
No one to talk to, no bother with any computer,
Not that this mattered anymore…
Burned to a crisp, dried out, but he felt sure…
Inchie would still try to eat him out of hunger,
He’s obviously a gannet, who’s eating more & more,
He’s talking to himself, as he commits potato murder!
Sure enough, he bit into a chip; moreover…
Toothache Tiffany gave out agony from her molar…
As Chip slid down Inchies throat, he did agjure…
To the ‘Potato God’ to make Inchies pain more…
Sure enough, he had a dizzy spell; he fell on the floor,
A crumpled heap, realising this Ode is pure aporia…
From this Odester, fantasiser and wool-gatherer,
Off he drifted to the gates of St Peter…
Who said: Hello, here comes an old, bald meshuggener!
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Five hours of sleep, continuing the slow increase in sleep time gathered over the last five days. I believe the problems might have been my being on the Amoxicillin. The assessed nightly hours of much-needed slumber have been:
Mon 0, Tues 0, Wed 0, Thurs 4, Fri 5.
So, it’s going in the right direction.
I believe Hitler thought the same thing on his way to the Russian front. Haha!

05:10hrs: I gently woke up, and that doesn’t happen often, and nodded back asleep almost immediately.
06:15hrs; I woke with the usual jerking around for a few seconds, and forced my legs off of the bed, to make sure I got up this time. As I was taking off the mocturnal catheter pouch, I estimated I’d had five hours of kip. Good!
Remembered to do the balance exercises for once, and all seemed fair. The only problem I could detect was the left leg’s Catheter, Chloe, which was faux-giving way a few times. She was the same all day. The last thing I want or need is to have another tumble. I think the fear of hospitalisation again is making me more wary.
I poddled out on the balcony, and took two snaps of the progress made on the Nottingham City Council’s tarmacing of the old gravel path up to the Woodthorpe GrangesPark.
This one, taken on the right, both through the glass windows, was of the Citrus Way end car park. Can you see something different in it? No little red car on the chevrons!

Off to the Porcelain Throne.
For another wet and splurty evacuation, this time nearly caught me out with a second watery torrent splurting out a few seconds after the slodgy-wet first one. Back to the junk room to start the computer, and with five minutes, I was on my way back to the Porcelain Throne. Another wet and over-willing affair, but no follow-up.

I got the update done on the Friday blog and posted it to WordPress. Then made a start in this template I’d already prepped. Fingers crossed, I haven’t made any foul-ups this time with it.

As I opened CorelDraw, it was always a risky business. The damned thing nearly always has something wrong with the first opening of it. This week, as I recall, one day it opened with all the right-hand dockers not showing. Pallets, Text, Transform, Glyphs, and Colour had to be put back on manually. Then, on Tuesday, I think, an error email report opened up while loading. It wouldn’t let me fill it in or close it, so I had to force a shutdown and reload from scratch. It cost me so much memory that I had to use CCleaner, which found two ‘vital’ updates that needed to be installed. Clicked on Install, and was told after a few minutes, “Unable to install”. Huh!
Then on Thursday, CorelDraw froze while writing text, well, making a border for the text. All off again, gave in a few minutes and rebooted. Huh!
Then it told me several fonts were unavailable!

I made a mug of Redbush Rooibos tea, and Googled the tea’s properties, benefits and side effects. I gave the box of bags to Carer Ejaz to put in the laundry for someone ot pick it up. Apparently, if you are on Warfarin, you should give it a wide berth. So that was that, a lovely flavourful taste as well.

Carer Ejaz gave me a good going over. Medications. Body check. Hoovered. Foamed & barrier-creamed various ailments as needed.

I was working on this blog.
Suddenly, I found myself lying on the top of the bed, wondering how I got there. The computer was on and had gone into sleep mode. I estimate I’d been there for around two hours. I was so confused, I couldn’t remember why I thought it was two hours, now.
But Ejaz had just arrived for his second call. A short one, and he was asking about the two upcoming hospital visits. I think he said he could not go with me to the hospital on either. The first one, next Wednesday, was too early for him to help. And the second one was on a Thursday. Which was concerning, I think. Cause they will be asking someone who knows what I do when in a seizure to explain to them. How can I, when I can recall noting of the seizures, all I can tell them are the after-effects that I get.
Then again, I was feeling confused when we spoke. I’ll try to clarify the situation when Ejaz returns tonight around 17:45hrs. If I remember to.

I’m going to get my ablutions done now.
Porcelain Throne first, Trotsky Terence again.
Toothache Tiffany’s Teggies were painfully cleaned.
Not a single cut in shaving!
Fractured knee, Catheter Chloe, Arthur Itis, Shaking Shoulder Shirley, and Twitching Neck Nicolas were all Phorpain gelled. Flabby Tubby Tummy Timmy, Underarm Herbert, Man Breasts Boris, and Two-Testicles-Thomas were barrier creamed & foamed. Blephergelled and dry eye sprayed Glaucoma Glady’s eyes. Nasal spray was sprayed. Then the seriously hurtful job of cleaning and medicating poor Little Inchies’ Fungal lesions was tackled. With very little oohing and arghing, although a curse word or two did slip out.
I remembered this time to put the barrier cream on top of the Terbifine Hydrochloride.

Giant potato baked and halved. Sliced the flesh, salted and no-butter butter dolloped in.
Very tasty. There I was, with the meal balanced on my conveniently big-enough belly, eating away and watching a recorded TV Heartbeat episode, and wallowing in almost joy and contentment…
In came a landline call. I struggled to get up to the phone without spilling any of the gorgeously tasty nosh. It was Sister Jane, and he was most upset, almost annoyed!
After Nottingham Forest’s 0-3 defeat to Chelsea, Manager Ange Postecoglou was sacked, minutes after another defeat. The poor gal was distraught! Also, this defeat dropped Nottingham Forest into the relegation bottom three teams! I returned to the now cold meal, well, what was left of it. Unfortunately, the potato husks had hardened too much and were upsetting. I’ll ring Jane in the morning to see how she is, poor gal.

Later, I was trying to take some photos of the night sky, but my efforts were rather dismal;
As you can see here, Tsk!
AS I was taking them, Carer Ejaz arrived on his last call. And came to the rescue, taking this one on his super-camera’d mobile phone.
I read that Tim Price uses a cell phone. He takes many great night shots with his camera.
https://offcenternoteven.com/2025/10/16/owl-sighting/#comment-153634

I think I’m not steady enough to hold the camera still.

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Inchie Today: Wednesday 15th October 2025

16/10/2025 / Inchie / 10 Comments

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I’d like my annihilation of Starmer to be true,
Absolute, painful, embarrassing & thorough,
I’ll not use a gun, a knife or thumbscrew…
But when he crumbles, this is long overdue
His actions reveal he’s a true-blue,
A Barrister seeking power, a well-to-do,
His defeat or death would be my Xanadu,
No details, this Ode is but an aperçu,
He’s more an oligarch, with no affettuoso,
We cannot rid ourselves of him impromptu,
We know how to work out what we need to do,
But I’ll do my best for you, toodeloo!
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Good Morning, Afternoon or Evening

I am not placing any… well, just a few photos below, to see if this stops them disappearing when folks view the blog. Had a lot of them recently. Grrr! And I haven’t the foggiest idea why.

It was even harder to force myself out of bed this morning than it was yesterday. Summat wrong here. I’ve always been a morning sort of bloke.
I woke around 04:00hrs. And thought I’ll beat this unknown morning drowsiness, and get up now. My determination was strong & decisive. ZZZ!
Then I woke again at 06:30hrs. I whipped back the quilt and checked the night catheter bag. ZZZ!
Another waking at 0645hrs. I forced myself through sheer determination to rise: Okay, the truth is I felt the rear trap-door gurgling and a lot of wind escaping. That was enough; the fear of another not getting to the Porcelain Throne on time encouraged me. I was still sitting there, awaiting the torrent to stop as the door chime rang, and Ejaz came in. He shouted out, ‘Are you alright, Gerry?’ Just be a minute, I replied. But of course, with all the cleaning up of the spurted mess, it took me much longer.
Ejaz carried out a body check and applied barrier cream to three areas (back, groin and belly). Foamed the lower part of my left leg, which was getting a little worse, with crocodile red skin patches. Then he Phorpained the left knee all the way around to help with the knee fractures, Arthur Itis, and Catheter Chloe. He colour-rated the urine and emptied the pouch for me. Medications were issued, and Peptac was taken. He then sprayed the eyes with Blether cream and the dry eyes spray. For the last task, he did the Health Checks with me and ensured that they were appropriately recorded on the graph. Both of today’s BP readings were on a HIGH level. Which was acceptable to me cause they followed a HYPER & HIGHER ones from Monday & Tuesday.

Inevitably, when I got on the computer, Ape-Shit describes the events. It would not let me open Google from the icon, or from the Control thingy.
Total frustration!
I closed down CorelDraw and gave up.

I was at the end of my tether. Every day this happens. The battle to do the graphics, an Ode, and the HC chart is getting overwhelming, not to mention tackling the rest of the blog.
For a few minutes, I was lost in hatred of my accursed, lousy luck and the impossibility of getting any help. Boy, was I feeling down and out.
Can’t remember ever being this depressed.
Then, I just wandered into the kitchen, not really knowing why, and took some snaps of the view.

Straight ahead…
Then slightly to the left.

I think that maybe I’d resigned myself to the situation without realising it.

I won’t lose any memory or time in putting any of the others on. Bear in mind how low I was.

I returned to the computer after a good while, almost thoughtlessly looking out of the kitchen window, fearing the worst with the damned computer. I think I tried to tell myself that I knew this would happen eventually – no computer, no blog, no email, no ordering food (but that bit was great!).
Could I live without it?

I reluctantly got back to the desk, convinced this was the end, the finish, the death of the computer… Now, had it been Starmer who died, I could live with and possibly celebrate that. Hehehe!

A partial saving grace was when I got the computer back on. Fair enough, Google would still not open, but I tried opening Firefox, and it did! Of course, I could not get to or remember all the Google-saved passwords. So, still could not get into WordPress.
I got on Google from the icon, but it wanted passwords, verification, etc..

A strange inspiration came over me, and I told the computer my problem, asking what I could do to correct it. Unfortunately, I’m not a Computer specialist, a computer technician, a computer software or hardware engineer, a computer scientist, or a computer guru. I think that the collection, as mentioned earlier, might have understood what the advice meant for me and how to implement it collectively. A few of the eighty tips from the site’s advice I was brave enough to try.
But only the ones where I knew I could cancel or remove after they failed. And they did. Not only that, but I was getting more het-up again.
Three hours later, I was again at the point of giving up. Ejaz did a quick call but didn’t understand what I was telling him, and I couldn’t figure out what else I could try. Thanked Ejaz and off he went.
I seem to recall that the last gasp chance would be to close everything, give it a few minutes, and restart, as I did yesterday to get CorelDraw’s problems sorted. This would be about 13:40hrs.

I had no idea it had taken place, but it was confirmed when I came back to reality, with the acidic, horrible-tasting, and smelly gust of wind that came up into my mouth. I thought I had had a mini-seizure; they are the ones that usually have the acid after them. But the after effects were scary this time. I could not get up for a good few minutes. It felt like the room and I were swaying in different directions. I made sure I stayed where I was in the chair. I did not risk standing or walking until things had cleared in my head. Which took ages. While waiting, I made sure I hadn’t been on the computer and caused a mess of anything. I realised I must have been out of it for over an hour. The door chimed, and in walked my ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden, and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She had only called to do a Lifeline wristlet check with the NCC controller, which she did first thing. I must have looked and sounded a little odd after the Seizure.
I told her briefly of events and problems I was having.
She asked if I was ready to go into a home yet. I replied, I think it’s inevitable. Because I’m struggling to get help, doing everyday tasks is getting harder and longer. I told her of the farce of ending up with two chairs, but can’t afford a Carer to take me out. And can’t get help with making the self-propelled one safe to use. I can’t get help with the dwindling finances.
Bless her, she looked at a wheelchair for me.
I mentioned that while she was trying to work out how to get footplates on. When I was in the hospital, a social worker said they would see if they could get me help with my finances. A Red Cross person said they would know if they could provide some help. The team included a physiotherapist, an occupational therapist, a representative of Age UK, and a member of the Falls Team. But no one has contacted me. And mentioned the problem with trying to arrange lifts to hospital appointments. Deana (What an Angel) asked for the appointment letters for next Wednesday with the orthopaedic surgeon. Deana rang them there and then. She arranged for a lift each way. This temporarily helped my lack of faith and prompted a visit. 🌺 THANK YOU DEANA 🌺

NOSH
I ate well, at least. (Slurp-gobble)

Inchie Today: Tuesday 14th October 2025

15/10/202515/10/2025 / Inchie / 22 Comments

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Do I require a verbal fumigant?
Some control over the money I’ve spent?
Why do I think Starmer is graveolent?
Why in 1963 did I start going glabrescent?
Get so angry, almost incandescent…
With oligarchs, politicians, well, Starmer, I meant,
I know the end of the world is impendent,
Feel I’m in confinement, immurement?
Once I was an individualist, a free-thinker,
As a child, I was a little tinker…
Things changed as I grew older…
Catheter due to my poor bladder,
Bladder infection, turned out to be Cancer,
Now I’ve almost constant diarrhorea,
People tell me I’m a bit of a stinker,
Now I’m a sceptic, like Agrippa,
Physical and mental problems,
My last tumble, that was in September…
Fractured bones in my knee, wrist and finger!
In the hospital, for three weeks I did linger,
In which I had many a seizure, saw a neurologist,
X-rays, cardiac, geriatrics, orthopaedics, bed baths,
Appointment made to see a neuropsychiatrist,
Waiting for an appointment for the laparoscopist,
The hospital was all busy, busy, very little rest…
Under pressure, the medics did their best,
Warden Deana came to see me. She is the loveliest,
She arranged a lift & from the orthopaedic surgery,
Nurse, due for checking on my leg’s Lymphorrhea Leslie,
But Leslie is coming back on the left leg, so, itchingly!
Something is better, though – my eczema and acne!
But a returning ailment is Toothache-Tiffany!
It doesn’t bode well, you may agree…
Adding the mental confusion and argie-bargie…
It looks like it’ll have to be a care home for Inchie,
I speak predictively, presciently, and anticipatorily,
This is going to happen, it’s not quixotry,
I’ll take my loathing & hatred for Starmer with me!
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Mud Gorning!
Again this morning, I woke up in a much better frame of mind and with fewer active ailments. I’m assuming the course of the Penicillin tablets, which ended last night, had a hand in things. Still feeling tired, but that is nothing unusual over the previous week. I had to force myself to get up until 06:35hrs. After waking up at various times and thinking, at 04:30, I thought, well. If I get up now, I can get the abltions sorted. Zzzz!
04:40; I really ought to get up and make use of the Porcelain Throne… Zzzz!
05:05hrs: I could well have an unplanned rear-end evacuation if I don’t get up. Zzzz!
05:20hrs: Panic Flap, nearly had myself over twice, and clouted Shaking Shoulder Shirley on the edge of the wet room door, and scrambled my dressing gown of ASAP… I made it, but with nothing to spare time-wise, of course, it was a Trotsky Terence affair again. I distinctly recall thinking, ‘Well, at least that got me to get up at last.’
0532hrs: I returned to the front room and sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought c1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, to take of the Night Catheter pouch.
Zzzz!
05:55hrs. I stirred amb verbally lambasted myself. I really must get up, I’ve got an order coming from 06:30hrs. Zzzz!
06:25, Woke and begrudgingly forced myself back up.
I don’t know how I managed it, but missing the food delivery possibly played a part; it was due between 06:30 and 07:00hrs.
No sooner had I got the night bag of than I felt the dripping out movement from the rear end!
!
To make things all the more painful, yet again rushing hobblingly through the wet room door, I clouted .
Things took a nasty turn, messy-wise. As I had a hold of the pants to rip them off, let rip with a wet, gooey torrent of innards contents.
At that moment, I thought I heard the intercom sound. Panic, I do not want to miss the delivery, and it might have been the nurse from the DVT Warfarin Clinic who came to take my blood, but how do I get to the panel in the hallway in time, in the state I was in?
Thankfully, when I opened the door and looked across to the unlit hallway, I could not see a light on the panel. So at least I kept the treading of phoo within the wet room, but was still worried in case anyone came while I was in the motion of cleaning myself, the floor, the porcelain and searching for hidden bloblets anywhere in the wet room, up.
I think I used three rolls of kitchen towels and the same number of rolls of toilet paper. And it’s not seven o’clock yet!
I got a good wash, but I dare not turn the convector wall heater on because it’s rather noisy. It would reduce my chances of hearing if, as often happens, people knock on the door and do not use the buzzer thingamajig.
I don’t need to tell you how ashamed I felt.
After cleaning up, I checked the mobile for any messages and got the computer to do the same with the Emails that may have come in while I was cleaning myself and the wet room.
I found an Email from J Sainsbury. Three items were not available, but I didn’t mind that. But they had sent an expensive, ready-to-cook potato meal with a one-day shelf life. I must remember to send it back.

I started on the blog update for yesterday. And had to rush back to the Porcelain Throne! Got there in time more easily this visit. A good job too; the motion was a sort of Whoosh! and all over, splattering the porcelain and my bottom and legs.
Went to wash myself and found I’d left the hot tap on, so it was running cold!
WHAT the Heck NEXT?
Well, I’ll tell yous…
Carer Ejaz arrived, and he couldn’t seem to grasp my tale of woe I was giving me. But I imagine I was a bit uptight about the situations suffered, so I may have been talking too fast.
Before he could do anything medically, the ‘Oh, Susana’ tune came from the intercom. It was the Sainsbury delivery. Ejaz carried the stuff into the kitchenette, loose and put it on the floor. I mentioned I would have difficulty bending down to pick them up, so I leave all the carrier bags near the door to put them into the delivery boxes. No hint of criticism in my voice, after all, the lad was trying to help me.
I remembered the potato meal and asked him to return it to the driver for me. Which he did, bless his cotton socks. So, I had loose food in the kitchen, hallway and front room to sort out when Ejaz left, and he had’t had a chance to do the medicines or medicating, and running out of time. Which I fully understood. He checked that the DC returns matched. Issued the medications, and had a look at my Google Email problem, the tabs had disappeared of the screen. He had to shoot off to get the bus to his next call, and I thanked him most muchly.

I had a go at getting the tabs back on Email, but gave up when I remembered the food in the hallway & kitchen needed sorting. I got them away somehow. Anywhere there was room, it was a right mess, just like the kitchen and front room are now. I usually take snaps of them, but after the earlier Whoopsiedangleplops and Accifauxpas, I was very attentive & concentration was impossible to glean, adopt or use.
I got back on the computer to put the earlier photos I’d taken on CorelDraw to ready them for use.

While checking the SD card, I saw photos of food, assumed they were old, and deleted them. ARGH!

Then, I touched up the few I loaded on CorelDraw, and then went to get two of the small pork pies with pickle to nibble. Ejax was back on his second call now and spotted some short dates on other products in the fridge. He took a waste bag, which was pretty full, with him when he left to the refuge chute for me.
While I was in there, I took a selection of some of the food delivered to post on the blog. Here it is.
I got some potatoes and garden peas in the slow-cooker. I added some vegetable seasoning and a dollop of light Soy sauce. Then, I made up a bottle with spring water, grapefruit cordial, and soda water. Not too strong, but with the soda water added, it tasted a little tart and tangy.

Back to the computer, and got the above photo on. I also realised I’d made yet more .
I’d missed off the three snaps I took earlier of the morning views on offer.
All of these were taken from the balcony, through the glass. This one straight ahead.
To the right, the treetops of my greatly missed visiting tree copse in the bottom field.
Down to the right, the Citrus Grove end car park. Note the little red car on the chevrons?
Looks like the parks department is getting ready to do some work.

The day has almost gone; it’s nearing the Carer’s teatime visit —any minute now.

I’ve just been to check on the potatoes and peas. Tried a few of each – what a gorgeous flavour!

Added some of my favourites
to the biscuit barrel.

Time to get some food sorted now.
A cheap meal, like this, would have been when I first moved into a flat from home. I estimate what the costs might have been; Peas 1/- at most. Cornish Pasties 1/- each. Potatoes 2p. Gravy 2p. Totalling in old money, 2/4p. That’s less than 12½p in today’s dosh. It cost me over £5 today! What percentage increase would this be? (Arithmaphobia)
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ARRIVEDERCI MON AMI’s

Inchie Today: Monday 13th October 2025

14/10/2025 / Inchie / 6 Comments

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I struggle with my mental roaming,
I search, ask, but no one is answering,
But why should they, I say while praying…
I can see my end, advancing…
That’s how it is, no romancing…
I’m not exactly laughing or dancing,
At the thought of my decaying & dying,
To live a long time, I’ve not been relying on anything,
Since starting to take the Amoxicillin…
Toothache Tiffany, the pain she’s still inflicting...
Looking forward to the trephinating….
Remembering, ashamed & self-loathing…
My fractured knee, cuts while shaving…
But the way the computer has been behaving…
Almost got to me, it had me spitting & cursing!
Till a visit came from Community Nursing,
I fell in love as she removed the compression bandaging,
She said I’m doing well; which was very encouraging!
She replaced it with a new one, after medicating,
Then she got me on the bed, things were tingling!
As she began my catheter-contraption removing…
If I’d written these lines correctly, they’d have no rhyming,
The tube from Little Inchie, pain-free, with no hurting,
She came to the bit, which can tear-bringing!
But not with this gal, I was actually singing…
As she manipulated the tube back into Little Inchy!
It went so well, we laughed jocosely!
Her visit rid me of my jejunity,
I insisted, in thanks, she takes goodies for nibbling,
My thanks, and coffee and cans for drinking.
And some croissants to share with others who are nursing.
Since starting to take the Amoxicillin,
I was good before, but it’s worsening,
I can lose what I’m saying when talking,
Phoning? To whom am I speaking?
My worries are now amalgamating,
Coming together, congealing…
And it’s not a very lovely feeling,
Is this because I took the penicillin?
Concentrating, I need this elucubrating,
Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion is bleeding,
I’m more edgy about my poor equilibrating,
The days that flash by as if speeding,
Now time flashes by, without my noticing,
My brain that moves so slowly, galumphing,
My knees’ agony when moving or genuflecting,
Aware that I’ll never again be jigajigging,
For months I’ve not yodelled or sung,
My mental & physical state is now larrupting,
Ailments that for a long time have been erupting,
But, enough of this self-prognosticating…
Magic Mushrooms, which gave me psilocin…
Tried them once, they were mind-blowing,
Now water-on-the-brain; a new thing,
This is not psychotomimetic or intoxicating,
For the Trephination operation, I am waiting,
Not looking forward to the trephinating,
But I’m not scared, or in fear, just accepting…
That life has been excruciating and bewildering,
Well, after I started to get old and ageing,
I’ve tried to avoid sinning & vernacularising,
I seeked not exculpationing or validationing,
Now, I start wailing, moaning & whimpering,
Accepting it’s distressing, disturbing, upsetting…
I have irreverent fancies, often witwantoning,
Failing is something I used to find depressing,
With my conscience, I was ever juggling…
Striving for just one chance of winning,
But ended up an expert in failing,
My hopes for a win started deteriorating,
My faith started declining, crumbling,
Then old age and I started decaying…
Physically, the ailments started mounting,
Mental problems, too, were beginning…
Dementia, PN, so many I stopped counting,
As one problem started regressing,
A new one was developing,
The first one started retrogressing,
My hopes were fading, falling & failing,
No longer anxious or troubled, just foreboding,
Accepting my fate, but fulminating,
I soon accepted my losses & forfeiting,
But seeing Starmer as PM is an abomination…
A disgrace, an obscenity, a transgression.
Starmer has a certain air, but no admirability,
He made Tory Mark Harper, into Baron Harper,
He’s a charlatan, deceiver, hoodwinker & liar!
A masquerader, grifter, confidence-trickster,
Is this why he did so well as a barrister?
A double-dealer, hoaxer, swindler, flimflammer,
A back-hander taker, illywhacker & douceur,
I imagine I sound a bit of a derogator?
I mentioned Keir to my electroencephalographer,
One of his worst traits is his hylomania!
His compassion is non-existent, not even minuscule!
I so look forward to his moratoria!
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Horrible day!
Apart from the nurse doing my leg bandaging and changing the catheter-contraption, of course.
I fell in love again; I must top this at my age.
CorelDraw and Computer problems again.
Left the hot water tap to run cold again.
Got to the Porcelain Throne too late again. What a mess I made… I blame Trotsky Terence.
Lost the TV remote control. Found it five hours later.
Went down to call on Jenny and Frank. I got off the ninth floor, and for some unknown reason, I inwardly lambasted myself: “You Pratt!” Then went down to the eighth floor, into the small lobby, and realised as soon as I noticed there was no bell-push on the door, that I was on the wrong floor. It was the eighth floor! Still, poor Jenny cannot get up very well, so I didn’t see her, but it was lovely seeing Frank again.
Then Carer Ejaz told me was not doing the last call. Thankfully, he will be here in the morning. I hope.
Ejaz did his best and may have got in trouble for overstaying on his visit; to call the Doctor. He got through after selecting buttons to answer the robot questions. He reached another robot and was 3rd in the queue. He then gave me my mobile to monitor the repeated messages while I called the Audio Centre, which took 20 minutes to get through. Apparently, they will email me. From the first time I called the Doctors, it took 30 minutes to speak to a receptionist, five minutes to explain the problem, and they will send me a text.
So nothing was achieved. We were both frustrated. Although a stronger word may explain how we felt a little more accurately.
Did I mention the CorelDraw and Google problems?
There’s no time left if I don’t, so it’s already late.

Photos & Comments
The catheter pouch, before my nurse tended to it.

Morning view.

Forgot why I took this one.

HC equipment. High BP today.

Aha, got some of the Marmite & cheese puffs.

Too many drinkies. Even though
I’m drinking nonstop to help
my bladder pass to the catheter.

So tired, only just changed the date.

Copernicus sausage, Potato Rostis, cooked beetroot, tomatoes & cheesy bread rolls.

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Things are now more of a struggle!
I’m forever in a muddle…
I could do with a cuddle!
= = = = = = = == = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
Feeling a little sad for myself there, sorry!

Sunday 12th October 2025

13/10/2025 / Inchie / 11 Comments

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KCB KC MP, Sir Keir Rodney Starmer,
Kills pensioners, hates every farmer,
Self-wealth & backhanders he does fancy,
I’ll say any more, I’d lose my abstinency!
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Did you notice? I’ve gorra a new Grim Reaper,
He’s not very good, & he’s got Zeusophobia,
The poor git only snuffed it last October,
Our conversation was very soon over…
He only speaks Kosovoan, a war survivor,
He was calling to learn our language proper,
I gleaned all this, not through a natter…
He’s been given details of me, on paper,
No idea how he snuffed it, I’ll find out later,
He knew of my problems with viatica,
I thought at first he meant my sciatica,
If he passes the test, a global Soul-Collector,
He could be a soul-seeking globetrotter,
A low rating; to the UK, to collect Starmer!
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It’s a lot less bothersome this morning. I wasn’t as disoriented when I got up… but that’s not saying a lot (Hehe!) I was still feeling out of it, compared to how things were before the tumble and fractured knee bones.
Anne Gyna has been very kind these last two days. Even Cartilage Chloe has!
Glacoma Gladys is a bugger today. The brain soon returned to its confused and incoherent state after midday. It was like blinking, and my cognitive abilities faded immediately. Yet minutes before this, I was working on the CorelDraw problem… and got it sorted out on my own .
Then the confusion returned and stayed for the rest of the day .

Photo Gallery from Inchie
Hopefully Chronologically
Maybe the odd oddity…
But… you know me.

Early Morning fog

A Trotsky Terence Evacuation…

I was lucky enough to get there in time.

As I was about to go in, my Carer, Ejaz, turned up.
I told him I’m hoping to get a shower, shave, etc., so we didn’t do any body checks or medicationings. He issued the medications. And off he trotted.

I finished off the Saturday blog and got it posted. Again, I went into a . Then realised I’d not done my ablutionings! So, I did
I did the teggies very carefully. Then had a shave using the new razors, carefully. No cuts, no droppages!
Sprayed the eyes and nasal apertures. Put some olive oil drops in both ear-holes. While using some soap substitutes on my neck, I noticed a new scar on my chin. It looked old, it had dried, crusted. I had caught it with the Cratiscinite applicator, and it bled a smidge. No problem, but there was some confusion. The blood looked really light, like when I was in the hospital and they found the heart failing. It was the same colour, but later, when we did the Health Checks, the results were not bad at all. And the blood count and oxygen levels were good? As I said, confused, but not worried! Why? The arrival out of the blue, of , who spent an hour or so with me. Problems came as usual during that time, and they were not solved. However, the precious ‘Sod-Them-All’ attitude Horis brings me is unbelievable, eerie, yet so welcome —great! I still can’t work out how or why this happens, but I’m just glad that it does visit me now and then.

Then, along came another Porcelain Throne visit. Yet again, had I not been unclothed and standing next to the WC Throne, meaning I got down on it in a few seconds, it shot out like from a hosepipe!
Horis had cheered me up, and I decided to handwash the Khagoule and hung it up to dry in the wet room. It was then that it dawned on me that I had not done the other freshenings & medicationings yet. No cursing or swearing at myself. Usually, these lapses get me really angry with myself, but not this time, I had with me. Most annoyingly, when I got back in the wet room, it was like someone switching off a light or tap; he instantly vanished, with no fading involved.
But it was nice while it lasted! I didn’t medicate any areas I couldn’t reach, because Ejaz said he’d do them on his next call. Then I got the body, feet and aftershave perfumes sprayed on. Hehe!

Back to check if I’d left the tap running in the kitchen, and at last, the fog was beginning to clear somewhat, slowly.
I got on the computer, and was doing reasonably well, starting the template from scratch… then…
Problems with CoralDraw then, & WP yet again!
I was in the middle of selecting a graphic to amend to use. And the screen went to full size, without any icons showing to restore, minimise or close the frame! All other programmes running in the background were unattainable except when I closed the graphics folder. Awkward!
How or what I did wrong, if anything, I knew not – I also did not know how to get it to condense.
I’m sure, as I could be, that I’d had this problem on CorelDraw before, and felt I’d saved the solution on the CorelDraw Notepad, but no! I searched for Windows, restore-down, full screen, and other options, but nothing was there. I ended up going through all of the notebook pages searching for the same things one at a time. After about an hour, and only about 10% of the way through the sheets, I gave up. And looked at my notepad cover, I sometimes put things like this on it. Nope!
I spent ages searching on Google. But, of course, I couldn’t get the right question to get an answer.
Despair and frustration were growing; I thought it was my best bet to wait until Elaz returns.
Yet I kept on trying, again and again.
Eventually, when I put Windows 10 into the equation, I mean, question—the first one on the list was telling me to go into my (unheard of, not known) to change instructions on three areas… I’ve no idea what that is, where to get them, or how to change them anyway.
I went back to Google and tried another tip, but that involved changing things in the operating system, or something like that. No way am I touching that! Back to Google!
This one told me to press Win and L. I can recommend that no one tries this… the computer closed down! I could have hit the wrong button, I suppose? With my Gladys Glaucoma, I can barely read an email without increasing the font size. Then the print goes out of view at the edges, and there are only two buttons to press to begin with. I rebooted and tried again. But not at this site.
Then the next one down triggered a memory; this was advice I took last month when the problem occurred. Even I find it hard to believe I’d forgotten it. So, if anyone finds the screen goes to full size, you can press the Win button and the down arrow, which works a treat to reduce the screen!
I just fail to see how I forgot it! What a plonker is not strong enough to express my self-disgust! Absolutely pee’d myself off!

Shortly afterwards, Ejaz came into the room. I tried to explain what had gone on with the ablution and CorelDraw problem, but I didn’t need to bother; he couldn’t understand what I was saying. But he set about sorting me out carewise, bless him. He gave me a Penicillin capsule. Asked if I needed other medications. I asked for Codeine, the lad Phorpain-gelled my back, and left leg’s Cartilage, Arthur Itis, and the Fractured knee. The right leg still has the compression bandaging on, which stopped me from having a shower!

Then, to my amazement, WordPress went full-screen on me, and the Win button and down arrow trick did not work this time! But after a minute or so, a circle with an X in the middle appeared at the top of the screen. I pressed it and got back to normal. Phew!
These problems, like yesterday’s, are likely due to the massive Google Chrome update. Or not?

Ejaz did his teatime call. Dealt out the evening medications. He asked if I wanted any foam, cream or back-passage caplets. None needed.
Mental more than, medical today, Hehe!

After Ejaz departed, I started getting my daily meal sorted. A ready meal of lamb in gravy, with colcannon mashed potatoes, and carrots. I made up some extra lamb gravy with mint. So I can have two bread rolls to dip in it, to soften them first. I think I may like this nosh.
I looked up Ejaz in English before closing the computer, and it said:
EJAZ: translates to “miracle,” “wonder,” or “inimitability”. It is a male name that conveys a sense of awe and exceptional quality.
Dare I tell him? Hahaha!

NOSH MADE
Well, I had a ready-made meal, adding some lamb & mint gravy to soak it up and soften the cheesy bread rolls.

I settled down early, in search of Sweet Morphius. But he wasn’t playing. I got up and put the TV on. This sometimes helps me nod off when the adverts come on. But it didn’t work at first. Then I did go into bliss for an hour, and ever after that, I was totally awake, yet started and gave me no rest at all.