Trotsky Terence – Page 5

Inchy Today: Friday 14th March 2025

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Today started pretty well: it soon began turning,
Depression: In three minutes & it was leaving,
Then a seizure, after which my head was reeling,
The carer called; I can’t recall all I was saying…
Was I talking? Was he listening?
I thought I’d mentioned the washing…
But I’m uncertain, that’s the thing,
Depression Duncan had really moved in,
I didn’t even do any ablutioning…
Or any physical medicationalisationing,
It took me 5 hours to do this simple Odeing!
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Even as DDDD left, my brain was busy,
I wanted to think of my ode’s lexicology,
But my thoughts spinning-changingly,
Past events, wrongs, what about the laundry?
The carer can’t get through to the pharmacy,
Happy Horis is back, albeit belatedly,
I can concentrate again, you see?
But still more to do, washing & medically,
There’s just not the time available for me,
I’ll just empty the catheter of pee…
And a heavy-duty visit to the lavatory!
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Then a seizure did manifest…
A short one, for two minutes at best,
Already feeling at my wretchedest,
If DDDD comes again, I’ll feel aghast,
I feel bad-done-to today, badassed,
I’m not a believer, but my crucifix clutched
DDDD stay away, I’m not a hypocondriast!
You made my mind vague & overcast,
Please don’t come piggybacked,
You’ll get my spirits & hopes ransacked,
If you do come, make it short & fast!
It’d be better for me it if you hadn’t trespassed,
Still, if you do, I’ll try to be steadfast…
I pray your previous visit will be your last!
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HMG spent £45m on anti-spyware,
Stored it in a warehouse, it’s still there,
Waiting for them to find the highest bidder,
It’s a toss-up twixt China & Russia,
This gives the taxpayers acroparesthesia!
Humans need to find more absorbency,
To live life happily, honestly & guiltlessly,
Accept that it’s fraudulent… I mean HMG,
Accept wars, murders, are Earthly,
How to do this? Don’t ask me!
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Life’s changed, it’s gone all skewwhiff,
With depression and war, some us live,
They called an oligarch now, not a toff
Murder, bribery, drugs and Smirnoff!,
If you need help, others just scoff,
The UK PM is a dishonest caitiff!
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Life can be confusing, adumbral,
Some disbelieving, others agnostical,
Some study things all aetiological,
These mysteries are inextirpable,
Most claims are agathokakological.
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From ‘The Statue of Liberty’
Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled
masses yearning to breathe free,
Commoners, proletariat & bourgeoisie,
Things grew more criminogenically,
Now we have borders & Trumpery,
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Life can yet become more scarier,
People can get more sneerier,
Good deeds, help, will be scantier,
Undoubtably less sincere & trustier,
Hopefully, the ladies will get sultrier!
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Waste time worrying, of things imminent,
Carers, nurses, else solitary confinement,
Seizures, dementia, falls, being impercipient,
Ending up with a self-immurement,
Seeking a mental & physical demulcent.
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No time to get anything done in the first 10 hours.
In the dawn, and it was well gone 15:00hrs before. DDDD and the Mini-Seizures finally stopped.
The worst and longest-ever depression.
It’s now nearly 16:00hrs. And I’m going to get the ablutions and medications seen to now.
I spoke with the Caregiver about whether they are doing the domestic and laundry for me. It is not known yet. The Caregiver rang the chemist again for me but could not get through this time either. He said I was now deficient on Warfarin tablets. He returned later, after contacting the chemist, with a box of Warfarin. Thanks!

Computer problems again.
The seizures were all mini, I think, anyway.
I spent hours trying to get the photos on and gave up.
I deleted all the photos taken, and in the late evening, I tried again. The computer was slow, but in the morning I could save some! Not a lot, though.

I could see things (Seeing things in clouds, Pareidoliaing).
The nature of the clouds varied in this scene.

A Cornish pastie, beetroots and French fries.
And a lemon fool dessert.
Followed by some Cheezy nibbles, and a can of shandy. I can now drink from cans again. After giving up, due to the lack of teeth, more water was going on me and the surrounding area than got down the throat. The miracle solution, you ask? The dentist didn’t want to remove all my teeth and make me dentures, so I used a straw!
Can’t see how I’d not thought of this before. Haha!

Sorry, I don’t have much on, but I did a bonus ode.

I managed to get this after-sunset photo to go on in the morning. It’s quite a different aspect in this one.

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Today’s problems were eclectic,
DDDD made things so tenebrific,
Help from a carer, that was terrific👍🏻!
Seizures & DDDD were both horrific!
One call from , vitriolic,
DDDD makes me feel ‘Depressionaholic!’
I’ve never been less enthusiastic…
My thoughts confused, ever-changing, zebraic,
Carer ‘Joe’ helped me with matters urologic👍🏻,
one visit; can you beleive it!
When DDDD returned, it was dolorific.
Oh, and neurotransmitter shocks of electric!
One seizure left me soporific, almost hypnotic,
I told Matron Jackie I hope she looks into it,
I’d like them to give me a full mental audit…
With DDDD, life gets less etheric,
It concentrates on feeling depressic!
I must stop doing odes docudramatic!

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All The Best from Inchy & Inchie, Hehe!
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Inchy Today: Tuesday 11th March 2025

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I last had sex 40 years ago, in Spring,
Got shot twice in a shooting…
Cancer, so had a catheterising,
So, it ended my romancing,
Then heart operating,
The stroke, then the eyes cataracting,
I just wrote this Odeing,
For whippersnapper-advising…
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Keep lubricating & desiring,
Never stop hoping, looking or desiring,
May you both say nothing, yet you sing,
There may be spats & some ding-donging,
To keep your collusion from dwindling,
Maintain your passion and drooling,
Use tablets if something starts drooping,
Smile, say you’ll do the decorating,
Avoid any debauching & derogating,
Be you married, divorced or dating…
or living with or sharing a dwelling,
Stop your entanglements from decreasing,
Stop your romance from decaying,
Try to avoid any unwanted discharging,
You must resist being disobliging…
Rumpy-Pumpy, can be ever-deflowering,
Linger-longer, no defenestrating,
Each session should be deflagrating,
You both should be diagonalising,
After which, after doinking…
I’ll have a sulk and start depressioning!
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A CONFUSIONABLEITIS RIDDEN DAY!

Put another way, a typical, everyday day!

Mystery Photo?

Not a wonk of sleep. I was tired, but it was no go!

Got up to take these moon shots.
What happened to the moon?
It must have been a cock-up from me!

Bad to bed. No kip. Up again and ate a jelly.

Early morning shots.

Gave up trying to sleep around 06:45hrs.
Catheter pouch off & emptied.
Waste bag sorted.

A stand-up wash and sry, teeth, shave (3 minor cuts), and I medicated the various regions as needed – well, I started to. Carer Richard came for the last time ever. I forgot all about not having medicated the fungal lesion and ankle ulcer. I might pay for this later. Humph!

Back to the Wet room

Kicked in and persisted on and off all day & night. Assisted in her ‘Let’s Cripple Inchie’ mission, by for the first time in a while. Naturally frequented my brain a good few times. The lack of sleep and the new Carers starting in the morning were enough to confuse and worry me. But not enough to please the other ailments. A while later, Cartilage Chloe all but had me over, and in the process of staying on my feet, I acquired a new arm bruise.

I made a prescription medication list. I must ring for some more in the morning.

Then I made an Iceland order for Tuesday 17th March, between 8 & 10:00hrs.

I went back to the computer and saw a giant ladybird on the keyboard. It had black wings with red spots. When it flew away, I felt the draft it made! Hehe!
Summer is on its way.

I had another go at changing the photograph view tp horizontal, wide. I’d tried several times before but just could not find how I did for Kodak Tim 1 on Kodak Tim 2.
Blow me down, I did it!
The food delivery arrived moments later.

Blimey, I’d bought a lot! Marmite, potato cakes, patties and a pasty. Chips, yoghourts, Parmentier potatoes. Ready meals, cheesy cobs, Milk Roll bread…
Peas, more meals, Chinese sweet & sour…
Water and roast chestnuts, cheesy cobs, drinks, and cleaning products. Boy, did I spend!

A CRACKING SEIZURE DAWNED
I actually felt it coming on. This lost me in another world for about two hours. This time, I did nothing at all. Well, when I returned to mock consciousness, I was hanging half-out of the computer chair, and my reading glasses were on the floor! So I assume some activity took place. Sometimes, I seem to carry on blogging and don’t realise I have done so; then, I have to spend ages correcting the mistakes, omissions, and gobbledygook I’ve made. Not this time. I wondered if I had just fallen asleep.
I’m sure I explained the seizures to Matron Jackie yesterday, but I can’t recall her reaction. Tsk!

Well into the afternoon, the sun attempted to come out.

The carer is due in an hour.
I’m tired and drained even more now.
I’ll get summat to eat, methinks first. Not feeling good now. Anne Gyna is still stabbing away, occasionally along with .

Belly pork and potato cakes, perhaps.
The potato cakes were terrible!
Other things were delightfully tasty!

The last Meridian Carer called, Selina.
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Sleep took hours to arrive, but at least it did. I must have had at least six hours—still short and needing further catching up. But blessed, all the same! Cheers!
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Cheerio, Mon Amis!
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Inchy Today: Monday 10th March 2025

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I’m not coping with life’s cock & bull,
Not living life much, indeed it’s not complete,
It’s less agreeable, more allegorical,
With the ingrowing toenails on my feet!
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Lonely, depressing, confusing and exilic,
Killing, wars, hating have become endemic,
Greed has now become most eclectic,
This is making me into an elegiac!
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If companionship I could acquireth…
A recovery in my spirits may beginneth,
Even at 80, can life refresh?
No, I’ll just bewaileth!
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To avoid getting any angrier, or angstier,
Full of failure and being depressederer,
Maybe I ought to see an augurerer?
Before I meet St. Peter?
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I now struggle with things arithmetical,
As I always have with things astrophysical,
My knees and hands are all arthritical,
But I try to stay amicable.
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I’ve always been something of a hypothesist,
I wanted to be a mouth organist, a harmonicist,
And was always a reader, a hermeneuticist,
And a pretty fair anecdotalist!
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Nowadays, I’m incapable of getting a crescendi,
Sad as it is, at least I do know why,
But with the end of the world being well-nigh…
I worry about the survival of the tsetse fly!
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I went to learn about antispyware…
There were a lot of people there…
An MP, a roadsweeper & a beefeater…
Good job it wasn’t a vegetarian affair!
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I went to an anti-Starmer get-together,
We all agreed he spoke bilgewater,
We knew sadly that he wasn’t a suicider…
So we bought a steamroller to run him over!
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Sir Francis died aboard ship of dysentry,
Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley & Kennedy,
Each President was assassinated, sadly…
But no one has killed Starmer yet? – alackaday!
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WARS STILL RAGE IN OUR WORLD
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Last night, I slept much shorter, but I was far less ridden with jumping awake all the time. And I did get back to sleep more quickly each time, even if tried a few times to tug out my interstitial sulcus. What was totally missing for the whole time was . A smile emanating! I considered thinking about the possibility of making the bed but chose to remove the nocturnal catheter pouch, and urine was a six on the NHS scale.

Matron Jackie and an assistant called on me.
(As did seizures, dizziness and Anne Gyna)
I struggled to follow things with two voices to listen to.
Matron Jackie will try to get me help with hospital visits and doing the ablutions.

Seizures increased after they had gone.
Confused, I did not make any notes.
Did take some photos. Not necessarily in the order put on this blog, Confusion Konrad to blame.

Misty morning.

Clock-Calendar changed.

Waste sorted.

The spuds were readied and put in the slow cooker.

Evening shot.

Nine hours later, I made the first mug of tea.
Realised I’d turned the slow cooker on to boil the spuds but left them on the old cooker.
This could happen to any other idiot, you know! Hehehe!

It was yet another busy day, but little got done.
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Keep Safe! – Kia Haumaru!
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Inchy Today: Sunday 9th March 2025

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This ode was inspired by Koheleth,
Who came into my dream on March seventh,
We chatted, and also… methinketh…
We rewrote the ten commandments, meseemeth,
He asked what mankind was really worth.
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Seems we shared many an apomorph,
In this dream, I was an ectomorph,
Seems he rebirthed in Dusseldorf,
He said life today is unsocial & tharf,
I don’t know what his words were worth.
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Long dead, he’s now a Grim Reaper, today,
‘I’ve got my own; he contacts me each day’,
He added; Mankind’s existence is not justificatory,
I said Well, there’s always been wars & poverty!
Mankind no longer read the words of the Almighty!
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I said, we no longer use mankind, but humankind,
It’s considered insulting to our female kind!
His looks of scorn tormented my mind…
Women’s duties, the Lord defined!
To reproduce, to submit to her husband.
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To the window I was beckoned…
He spoke as his arms lifted skyward…
Earthlings are no longer disciplined,
The Lord is thought less of than cannabinoid,
Faith, they go out of their way to avoid!
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The vision ended, and I felt isolated, bare…
Was this Old Testament man really there?
What was it he wanted to tell or share?
Did he visit to lambast or assure?
To the bible we should adhere?
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It was written by men to suit their persuasion!
To get a stronghold on the masses & accreditation,
Hundreds of faiths, claiming authorisation,
It’s no wonder I get depression,
Faiths & Governments are anti-egalitarian!
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Proletariats get only biased adjudicature,
Let’s face it, Starmer is an out-and-out liar!
Justice, fairness, & compassion we require,
We get greed, oligarchs, violence & war,
What can we do? Nothing, I’m sure!
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I found an old SD card hidden on the floor underneath the computer desk. I also found some photos of the progress being made at a house in front of the flats. It took another to update the series, but now it appears finished.
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Last night was the worst night’s sleep of the year
What didn’t keep waking me up? Every bloody thing seemed to! And despite being tired out, I struggeld to get back to sleep every damned time I woke up! I gave up at 05:00hrs.
Anne Gyna, I suppose, was the most oft-repeated offender, closely followed by Shaking Shoulder-Shirley.
As I moved my muscular, healthy, perfectly formed body to get at the , I started coughing and sneezing! Humph! What the heck next? Double Hump!

I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. It was a bit darker today, and as I stood up, I lost my balance and gave way at that second… Fortunately, I managed to land on the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner that I’d just climbed out of. A bit of good luck here: did not bleed!
I emptied the night pouch, disposed of it, and paid a visit to the Porcelain Throne.
A stinky affair, and sticky as well! I got the tune of Phorpain gel to rub into Cartilage Chloe and Arthur Itis. However, I got some pm the day cather bag. I had to take it off and wash it. I’ve only got two left. I must order some more. I clearly remember thinking something similar two weeks ago. This brought on , Why? I Dunno! But he did.

I took a snap of the view from the kitchenette window. However, when I uploaded the shots to the computer later, they didn’t appear on the SD card. Treble Humph!
I gathered all the wastebin bags into one and placed it near the front door. Then, I got onto the computer and realised I had not put the SD card in Kodak Tim 2 or Kodak 1. What a mess trying to sort them out. It seemed so much harder to get to grips with while DDDD was present. I spent hours fathoming about getting them arranged in order.
Some are on each SD card and on each internal storage.

So I semi-guessed, reading each box to see if it said day or evening. Some I could not read, thanks to Glaucoma Gladys. But they were obvious ones I had to take day and night, so there was no problem. I took them. Then, as I was emptying the catheter day bag, blood was coming from Little Inchy’s fungal lesion. So I applied some cream Hydrochloride cream. Gawd, it hurt. Haha!

As it turned out, I pressed on with the blog—a mission impossible. I did not finish yesterday’s post but am starting today’s. What an imbecile!

Was joined by the longest ever Absence Seizures. I worked out the best I could, which must have lasted three hours. I was finally coming out, or back into, mock reality. The carer arrived. I know I was talking to him, but I do not know what. I’m going to have to ring the Doctor about these. Mind you, I already have. I waited 8 days to get a telephone call back from her. I have waited another 6 days for a call. This gigantic, lengthy, non-eleptic seizure left me confused & drained. Not good!

I must get Saturday’s blog done now (22:36hrs).

Done it! Hurrah! .23:00hrs

Earlier sunset snaps.
Almost like a painting?

Food needed now!
Wunderbar!
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Concerned at too many a seizure…
Differing types, lengths, anywhither.
Waiting for Matron, as assessor & advisor,
Three weeks now, she may come in October,
Worried about my mental architecture,
My innards, eyesight and Back-Pain-Brenda,
Currently, the worst different types of seizure,
My latest ailment is arithmaphobia,
Doing the medications ordering and roster,
I feel a sort of mental nincompooper,
Signs of my becoming a cacographer,
Eyesight & shakes, a terrible photographer,
My mind & body are contracting dystaxia,
Options, decisions taken, ever more dotier,
Prolonged seizures? I become a gongoozler,
Ankle ulcers colours, black, red and/or zaffre,
Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Anne Gyna,
Shirley’s Shaking Shuddering Shoulder,
Toothache Tiffany, Gladys Glaucoma,
Earache Erasmus, Acne and Eczema,
Cartilage Choe & Carol, Episodic Ataxia,
Dementia Doreen, Paroxysmal Dyskinesia,
Dark Dank Depression Duncan, a canker!
For reading this Ode-Moan; I thank yer!

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Forgive My Foul Language, but Starmer!
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Inchys Ode: Saturday 1st March 2025

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Duncan paid fewer visits today,
But perhaps I shouldn’t say…
It’s not as if he went away,
What will happen on Saturday?
Good luck to me isn’t anticipatory,
If it comes, it’s always only briefly,
Though it always returns, worryingly,
But I write this ode ultracrepidarianly,
I got that from my thesaurus dictionary,
My life bears moments of uncertainty…
Conjecture, questioning my own ubiety,
No claims to rightness or piety,
Awaiting a glaucoma op and urinoscopy,
I often act subconsciously, mistakenly,
Or over-humbly, sycophantishly,
At times, I’m away with the sidhe,
If Dark, Dank Depression Duncan, Dawns,
With my own brain, I can lock horns,
Duncan’s visit can feel like an aeon,
Attracts feelings of rejection and abjection,
Are these ‘downs’ real or an aberration?
He can bring on a cruel self-beration,
Sometimes, a sort of zombification,
A low, deeper than being woebegone,
While accepting my own antiquation…
With its struggle amany and vulneration,
Dementia Doreen is another vaurien,
Incogniscent Iris, seisures often…
DDDD the opposite of High Mood Horis, you see,
Alternates with DDDD visit frequently,
One extreme or the other, persistently,
Never equidistantly or contentedly,
I can struggle to find reality, facticity,
Thoughts, movements show contumacy…
My neurotransmitters are dying on me,
Are texts from limb to brain understood clearly?
A chance of it being right? They go astray!
High-Mood-Horis; I do what I can do quickly,
DDDDD? Then things can get tricky…
Throw in the odd interrupting seizure…
What I’m writing can turn to bilgewater,
I often turn into self-loathing babbler,
When Horis returns, I think he’s boshter,
Then, no matter if the problem gets bigger,
Or has the temerity to get smaller,
Or new farces & snags I discover,
While I’m under Horis’s protective cover!
Ménière’s, seizures… but I always recover,
In High-Horis-Mood, I seem not to bother..
Well, I don’t… I couldn’t be cheerfuller,
DDDD returns, I change into a self-depraver…
A curmudgeon, self-loather, a self-hater,
Yesterday, Horis was the chief-frequenter,
Today, DDDD is issuing his depressing diaspora,
Giving me paranolia, perfervour,
He’s in and out more than I use the door!
Today, more often than ever before,
Could this account for today’s pyrexia?
In speech, thoughts & actions, I palter,
Prevaricate, equivocate, peradventure,
Had my fortune told by a chiromancer,
When I was an anklesnapper…
She told Dad, Your son will, in the future,
See the world’s end and last disaster!
She didn’t say I’ll be wearing a catheter,
Or I’d have a heart attack, then get cancer,
Get shot twice, Cataracts or Glaucoma,
FND, or be fitted with mechanical aorta,
An ankle, throat and Duodenal ulcer,
Or I’d get thrown into a canal, then a mere,
Ingrowing toenails, or get ever-deafer,
Or I’d say thingummy, whatchamacallit, dojigger,
Impaired memory, due to Doreen’s Dementia,
Or I’d fail to get a job as a railway porter,
Through being colour blind, called protanopia,
Or I’d end up an octenarian with dysphoria,
Or fungal lesions, & sweet memories of Grizelda,
Or I’d be killed by a man called Herr Starmer!
As would many a pensioner and farmer,
Or have to grow up with child-sized todger,
Or succeed with a landladies daughter,
The nurse arrived to change my catheter,
Getting the tube back in meant a lot of swordplay,
I wouldn’t go back in straightaway,
We had a bit of a shilly-shally…
We got it in, although it was bloody,
Then she checked the state of my rear alley,
She gave the piles some close-up scrutiny,
She treated me kindly, ointmentatily,
Barrier creamed things gently,
She groped the swollen testical for me,
I was embarrassed; I didn’t act squeamishly,
No real pain, things felt a little sorely,
Thanked her, wished her well, merrily,
When I moved, things kicked off painfully…
After my Whoopsiedangleplopski!
I took a tumble down on my right knee,
The cather tube yanking at Little Inchie,
Care arrived; perfect timing to lift me,
Onto my computer chair, swiftly,
No serious harm was caused, thankfully,
The only real pain was testically,
Little Inchie felt a smidge itchy,
In the shower, a biol in my armpit!
I go in a tangle doing arithmetic,
My wind escapages were miasmic,
DDDDDawned, why did I feel complicit?
Guilt, shame, I felt I was a nudnick,
I wanted to run away, be nomadic,
Another seizure, after which I felt sick,
Inside, was I adopting things pseudologic?
I finished this ode; is it oxymoronic?
I sat for hours doing nothing!
At the computer, apparently just staring?
Yet I couldn’t stop thinking,
Mostly rubbish, pointless rambling,
Not in a seizure? My thoughts alternating,
Forgotten in seconds, more were coming…
No logic, common sense or warning?
Dark, dank depression Duncan was dawing!
I went with the flow; it wasn’t even annoying,
I don’t see why, but this was humiliating,
As silly things I started contemplating…
I, was the only thing I was hating,
My interest in everything started abating,
I’m so tired, having done and achieved nothing!
I’m ashamed; should I be publishing?
I so miss circulating, & friendly badinaging,
Mutual silliness, verbal consorting,
Oh, it’s already time for my Warfarin,
I might have a shandy with the medication.
Almost immediately, there’s less aggravation,
returned; my new addiction,
I can’t give a toss now about any affliction,
Gone are my worries and agitation,
I am proud now to be an anythingarian,
I could fight Starmer and Satan,
Who I think are working in collaboration.
I laugh at ailments and debilitation,
You’ll maybe read this as deliberation?
But when DDDD leaves, I lose my tension.
If only my Doctor would pay attention!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
HOWZAT!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A bad day.
Put most of it in the day-long ode. Sorry.

Didn’t get up until past 06:00hrs.
The pouch was taken off and emptied.
Waste bags sorted and ready.
Made up some pots to use for the laundry.

Carer Chris arrived. No diabetic socks were needed to be put on, as I was planning to do the ablutions & medicationings later on.
As soon as Chris departed, I got in the wet room.
Shaving first—two cuts. The teeth went okay. No showering done, I was up too late. I dried off and had a heck of a job getting the fresh protection pants on. They are the thicker ones, as I’ve run out of the dearer ones, and with Starmer nicking my winter fuel money, I must cut back.

Carer Christopher took this on his second call, returning the laundry for me. It’s an excellent shot. I took three, but they all came out with massive shiny spots on them. Thanks.

Finally I got on the computer.
Determined to do a themed ode (above).
It turned out a bit dreary and covered so many things that I lost the plot altogether. It took me hours to complete, so nothing else was done, including sorting out the catheter equipment. Humph!

I took a break late in the afternoon. A cuppa, and went to investigate what nosh I had to make a meal with later on. Not a lot. So I think I’ll have a frozen ready meal with some bread. Then again, we’ll see what happens.

The nurse mentioned above arrived. A lovely lady.
Embarrassing it might have been, but she was so good at keeping me calm. XXX

I took this snap as she departed.

Back to the ode and eventually, I got it finished.

By then, it was really dark outside, but beautiful. I’m so glad I saw the sky when I did. I only went into the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running or the fridge or freezer door open. What a colourful sky!
To the right.
To the left.
Zoom in ahead.
Well pleased with these efforts.

Carer Chris returned. Medications given.

I decided not to make a meal yet. If I leave until after his last call, I may be able to stay awake long enough to watch the FA Cup match highlights.
But then again… Hehehe!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– Good Run Continuing! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – POLITICAL, AGAIN – –
The future of the world? A bloodstain,
East, West, ne’er the twain…
We can’t agree to help Ukraine,
Redtop is back as President again…
:::::
Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
:::::
Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
:::::
Our planet should be a hallowed fane,
We think more of money, financial gain…
Help each other? Or eat our frangipane?
What I write, I believe, is germane,
:::::
People are so much more legerdemain,
Proletariats can do nothing, we’re lurdane,
To Politicians: life’s a profitable game,
Russia, USA, China, all are Suzerain!
:::::
Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
:::::
Do they know that life is not a video game?
Blaming each other as the villain,
What they say, they do not mean…
Each leader just wants to be the top apogean!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
FURTHERMORE & NOT WITHSTANDING…
A little serious, the above may seem,
Peace is something that rulers cannot attain,
Leaders do not accept the blame…
Neither do they feel or show any shame,
They’re extraordinarily, transmundane,
Am I living in the spiritual realm?
Who’s controlling Earth’s helm?
Is the planet getting overwarm?
Will we live to earth unwarm?
Are Earth’s leaders part of a secret deern?
Nuclear, coal, hydrogen, nor windfarm,
Will stop doing Earth harm,
Will the promised saviour ever return,
Keir spouts primarily lies & aeriform,
I don’t think politicians are homoiotherm,
Their actions affect my neuroectoderm,
Labours mob, are worst, skelm!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I discovered some snaps that I forgot to include in yesterday’s blog. Here they are. Better late than never. I managed to finish the longish Friday ode done before it got too busy. Seizures were again few & far between.

Afternoon views of the puffer clouds.
I’m glad I caught the contrails.

Evening shots.
Sunset.
The high up moon.

Evening meal, well, the only meal. Mixed a tin of chilli with a ready-made chilli meal. Bread & Lemon cake. Slurp!

Not a lot of detail in depth today. It’s been a busy day, and I’m being told off. Hehe!

A smidge deeper shade today.

VISIT
Not half!

Clock-Calender reset.

Daybreak shot.

Midday.

17:30hrs.

Notepad notes: Many are unreadable even with the spyglasses and reading glasses on. I’m assuming it’s always the same when it comes to teatime. It’s been like this for over a week now. I’ve partly guessed at some and left others out—not that many were on the pad. When things calmed down, I had a go at the word list replacement again. I wish I could rid myself of this addiction..
But it seems I’m obsessive. And I can’t!

Found the photos in the camera’s memory.

Multiple corrections were needed to balance things layout-wise before posting it on the blog. I got so angry with myself. This alone cost me well over an hour after I’d spent over two hours updating.

An undecipherable bit here…

Carers Marie and Selina made the first two calls. Marie changed the day catheter for me. There’s another unreadable bit here on the pad.

Phone Call from Social Services. She was not pleased with me. Sadly.

Chris did the teatime Carer call.

I realised that I’d not sorted out the catheter contraptions.
Mind you, I knocked over the drawers in the kitchen, and it took me at least three hours to sort out and reorganize them.

The main problem was that I did not stop working on the stupid word list. I’m not sure while I am doing it. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to finish it. Haha!

Went on comments and WP Reader.

Then realised how hungry I was. I almost returned to recompiling the word list, but I stopped myself.

Must get something to eat now.
I’ll catch up in the morning. (He says!)

I was getting the meal and about to photograph it when the landline chirped up. It was someone asking to speak to Helen. ‘No Helen’s here…’ – ‘Come on duffhead, don’t fart about!’ – ‘I think you’ve got the wrong number!’ – ‘Oh, shit, sorry midduck!’ So at least I knew it was someone from Nottingham when he used ‘midduck. ‘ Hehehe!

I forgot to take a photo of the meal: mashed potatoes, mackerel in BBQ sauce, beetroot, crispy onions, and garden peas. It was not as good as it sounded.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Monday 24th February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
:::::
My pons may have become unattuned,
Pon a part of my brain abovementioned,
This has not medically been ascertained…
Just by my going lamebrained!
And visually, mentally purblind!
:::::
Deep Dank Depression Duncan darkened,
Anne Gyna’s pains then reawakened,
I didn’t feel hard done by or condemned,
When the seizures emboldened,
My confusion exploded.
:::::
Then I seriously contemplated…
My thoughts were multi-dimensioned,
I was soon feeling mentally drained,
As my limited capacity broadened,
My search for truth was disillusioned,
The more I gleaned and learned…
My faith & hopes were expunged.
:::::
Was humankind Frankensteined?
As I saw a misty logic, I frowned,
Humankind’s faiths have not intertwined,
Humankind, revenge, greed, hate-ladened,
Always for wars, we’ve munitioned,
Compassion is no longer gleaned,
Commonsense is being overburdened!
:::::
Words and gestures are too often miskened,
For peace, this world is not provisioned,
Genuine, kind gestures are unreturned,
Murdering, wars, unrestrained,
They were when killers were guillotined,
Now, after five years, they are freed,
And politicians are full of self-greed!
:::::
Toward forgiveness Some are inclined,
For all who have misdemeaned,
The law is an ass that’s got beclouded,
HMG with oligarchs elected,
Muggers and rioters cautioned,
The future I cannot comprehend,
Not with Herr Starmer in command!
:::::
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – CRACKING START TODAY! – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, Tuesday (Domestic), Wednesday (Financial, email, letters), and Thursday (Doctor’s appointment) are all going to be very busy. I’ll need patience, and they are going to be very time-consuming. Concentrating is necessary to avoid mistakes and prepare for the visits.
So, the blog will not have much detail. Unless, of course, I win the lottery big time! Then, I can afford to go private medically and pay for extra help. Oh, bother, I forgot I don’t do the lottery! Hehehe!

Sorry for the lack of the usual rubbish.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Sprinkling of rain.

Another sprinkling of rain.

Afternoon.

Evening.

Medications looking relatively low. Some part boxes on the Carer’s table. I counted how many of each of the tablets, medicines and creams there were. The arithmaphobia made it hard work, but I think I got it right.
Then, I called the chemist to assess the situation with the delivery. She said it would arrive on Thursday or Friday, but they didn’t. No doubt I got something wrong. I had! The patient lady said or meant to say that the prescriptions would arrive at the chemist then. The delivery is monthly on a Wednesday. I’m still not sure which Wednesday, though. I was going to ask, but I was concentrating on what she was saying and didn’t want to interrupt her and get it wrong again. I asked her if it was this Wednesday, and she said yes.

So, I assume the delivery to the flat will be the last Wednesday of the month.

A lot is done in one sitting on the

Franks & Chips (bread coming in the morning)

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

There was a time that I was awesomer,
Although in some traits, I was awlfuller,
Friday’s dances, the girls at the Astoria…
To them, I was an acroparesthesia,
That was before I got apraxia.

Famous for my ability to talk bilgewater,
A bumbling-babbling, foolish blooter,
Searching for acquaintances that are boshter,
But always something of a boondoggler,
Then came a new ailment, bradykinesia!

I had a mini-todger, questionable cisgender,
I’ve still got it attached to a catheter…
Bald, so no worries over my coiffure,
Accepted as a bypasser or circumventor.
Never a winner, a 3rd place I’d chanticleer!

I’ve become an expert, frequent dégringoler,
Never was a fraud, cheat or deceiver,
Now, I suffer from dementia & dysphoria,
Unlike Starmer, I’m no denunciator,
The wrong word to describe me? Debbonaire!

Coffin-waiting, yet things can still enrapture,
A natter, laugh with a friendly talker…
CBD, magic mushrooms with elderflower,
Of course, I no longer use the chest expander,
Finances dwindling, so I must curb my expenditure!

I’ve led my life candidly, honestly, foursquare,
Getting annoyed at things that are not fair,
Like Starmer, PM, who lied to win, fibber!
Who loves a backhander, the freeloader,
Guaranteed to cheat, lie & work a flanker!

I’ve never been a dynamo, hero or go-getter,
I got cataracts then and still have glaucoma,
My failing brain & body is getting me grumpier,
I’ve avoided being a grammaticaster…
Now I’ve become a graphomania!

I’m an expert on my haemodynamometer,
But the stomach & body is getting heavier,
Mentally, I anticipate getting habromania,
There’s not much in my brain for it to hinder…
Only Dementia, my brain’s house-sitter!

We’ve Starmer, every day getting iffier,
Putin, who’s several countries inferior,
Hamas, Israel, peace inviting…
Amhara, Yemen, with Houthi insurgency,
Ethiopia, Myanma, Paraguay… insanity!

No wonder the world is getting jitterier,
Proletariats just want it to be joyfuller,
Leaders going for the citizens’ jugular,
Janitor, junior, juror, or justificator?
We have Starmer, the lying junketeer!

I find myself becoming more klutzier,
And unfortunately, more knaggier,
And maybe a snip more kludgier,
My ageing body, positively knurlier,
If only Starmer would act kindlier!

Can Starmer’s reign get any lousier?,
Can I get any more loonier?
I things go right, will I live any longer?
Do I want to? Can I get livelier?
Can I rid myself of this lacklustre?

Will Keir get even more of a miser?
£160,976 a year for Nottingham’s Mayor,
She is Councillor Carole McCulloch,
Why does the East Midlands have a Mayor?
Clare Ward, £93,000 a year, did I mishear?
A deputy Mayor on £46,500, Holy Mother!,

The end of the World is drawing near…
Maybe not caused by anything nuclear,
Possibly by a Green Peace neglecter,
Oligarchs, wars, or my Auntie Nora?
God, Allah or Jesus from Nigeria?

The end of the World is now less obscure!
Humankind will be the orchestrator,
A World leader on an overnighter…
To prove they are richer, the best occulter?
The most efficient proletariat ostraciser?

I now get more confused with my photocopier,
Camera, computer, & getting to Jupiter,
Anything mechanical, & phantasmagoria,
Also, of course, my own psychasthenia,
Not to mention my bladder parasitemia!

My right testicle went all quadrangular,
Had I a disease, a bug, a queller?
This concerned my partner & querida,
She said I’ve seen things queerer!
She’s such a quick quipster!

Life may yer get rosier,
Contentment can reappear,
The logicality of this may not register…
Old Father-Time may be the reawaker?
I was told I was a ropedancer!

My happiest job? A gas streetlight snuffer,
There was not much joy to share…
My contentment did scatter,
I tried to become a sketch-writer,
But had a life of being an own-goal scorer!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I got as far as here, and things went a little off-kilter.
I’m back from the hospital now; nowt to worry about. The little whoopsie actually stopped DDDD from dawning on me. That is the secret to fighting depression, then. It must be. Just bleed and unstoppable bleed. Hehehe!

Late in the day now, and I was getting close to catching up with things before Little Inchy’s Fungal lesion mishap.

I’ve little time to get much done, so it will be shorter than usual. I seem to be saying often? Hahaha!

Here goes: I got up late, and things were busy, so I started even later (Monday).

Night pouch.

Early morning view.

I’d like to pass on a little tip here, if you don’t mind.
When urgently looking in the bottom medical drawer for bandages to put on your lower regions, it is best not to trap your hand in the drawer and make all the drawers together tip over, trying to remove your hand from the drawer after ringing for an ambulance. Hehehe!
Just worth noting, I thought.

Going to get some nosh sorted out now before the Carer arrives. Oh, look at the time. It’s too late to cook the nosh now. Tsk! I hoped to stay up, not fall asleep, and miss the football highlights for the third night on the trot. I’m not too hopeful with my record lately.

Well, at least I stayed up long enough to see some of the football highlights.

But sleep was disturbed so often. When shooting awake, ensured it was a longer time before I could get back to slumber again… Hump!

I may have ordered the prescriptions wrong and got things around my neck. I must ring the chemist in the morning to find out what’s what—or rather, what I’ve misunderstood, misheard, or got bamboozled with.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Tak Care O Yersels!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

Inchy: Saturday 22nd February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, I got a little carried away,
In many a different way…
By seizures, too often, alackaday!
Meige syndrome, Myoclonic, FND,
‘Absence Seizures’, DDDD,
Much Whoopsiedangleploppery,
Dementia Doreen kept logic at bay,
Coughing, sneezing, Stuttering Stephany,
Shuddering Shoulder Shirley,
Thoughts & actions were almost delusionary,
Still no prescription delivery…
Nor Catheter bags; hopefully, they’re on the way,
One addiction overpowered me…
I had to do it, and I did it fanatically,
An idea for an Ode, alphabetically,
I’ll have to WP it separately…
I’ve not yet finished the flimflammery,
I worked on it from 08:00 until 17:40,
The day’s reality was often just hearsay…
Self-guilt, self-hatred, blasting away…
Glaucoma blurred what I could see…
Late in the day, like every day,
I was all in, mentally,
Even weary physically,
It’s tomorrow morning now, Sunday!
I’ve just started this blog for Saturday,
Cogniscent Impairment Iris acted feudally,
I must have drank 8 mugs of Glengettie,
I’m only allowed 2 per day, they say…
Is bonkersness & insanity hereditary?
I recall some in my family being out away,
They told me it was for their own safety?
Specifically, cyclist cousin Ray,
My thoughts were filled with idiosyncrasy,
I tried to stay up for the football, such inanity!
Of course, I fell asleep involuntarily,
Woken a few times by Toothache Tiffany,
A.M., I was in a state of incongruity,
Sensing my existence was cruelty,
Thankfully, when I woke up, there was no DDDD,
But the git kicked off as I made my tea! DDDDD!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

I got so far behind concentrating and did poorly on the Alphabet Ode. (Most self-annoying), and time-consuming. This will be a short, detailed blog. Not that it would be precisely scintillating
even if it had all been by boring accifauxpas, ailments, and failings. (DDDD present).

Night pouch. Fair colour.

These time-consuming procedures were carried out without Accifauxpas—just one cut shaving and an unintentional shoulder charge on the doorframe on leaving. Which set off Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, who soon calmed down afterwards. The medicationalisationings went very well indeed. (No, I’m not joking) For some reason, creaming underneath the catheter strap bleeding did not hurt one iota! The new type of barrier cream is more effective than the old one. Or, due to me being in a mood because I had just drifted away into the ether and left me feeling free?

A decent, more normal-coloured morning shot from the kitchenette window when I was making the first of what turned out to be far too many mugs of Glengettie, Co-op 99, and Thompson’s Punjana tea?

I sorted out the waste bags and put them near the door.

I dropped the , as a series of Shaking Paroxysmal Dyskinesias seizures visited. Each lasted for about a minute, with about two minutes before the following one came along. I had five, I think. But there was no tumbling or falling with them. All of the seizures can’t be controlled and are like Starmer; they come, do anything they want, and kill people (pensioners & farmers in Starmer’s case) at will… but of course, the seizures don’t lie or take backhanders, unlike our hated, loathed, despise, lying by omission, figure & fact destroying, Tory-like Labour PM, Fürhrer Keir Isod the voters) Starmer. Who would be defenceless over his lies and manipulating facts in any court of law? But, of course, this is the HMG we are talking about.

Only today: Again, Starmer is laughing a loud lie.The Prime Minister has told Louisa James that pensioners will be better off in the long term under Labour because of the tough decisions HMG makes to stabilise the economy.
Hahaha!
But I respect his skill and determination to be and use a great misleader, with his slithery sidestepping, hocus-pocus, and mumbo-jumbo in the Houses of Parliament.
May He Rot In Hell! (Soon!)

At this point , increased in frequency and variety. Two mammoth ones included.
No memory notes left to use on the writing pad.
Around 05:00 hrs, the seizures got less frequent and were almost copeable with, as Carer Christopher arrived.
I had to stop writing the big ode and blogging. Glaucoma Gladys was fuzzing my eyesight, as she does after I’ve been daft enough to use the computer for so many hours.
I blame my love of odeing, which didn’t come out. It needs amending and catching up on in the morning. Indeed, this will require a lot of work and a smaller (above) ode writing, as initially, it was going to be the Alphabet Ode today, so I’ll do one in the morning. That reads confusingly to me? Sorry.

Some pre-seizure-ending photos.

FURRY ANDY

What a magnificent pose!
Glad to report that Andy’s servant, Doug, says that the lad is now back eating his greenies again!
Just look at the expressionable face Andy is putting on. Showing to me Contentment & expectations. ♥

Carer Joanne called, bless her heart, to return my laundry.

As Carer Christopher came, and I was feeling better after the seizure flood, I started feeling hungry. I took this sunset photo as I checked what I had to choose from for my daily meal. I bet Herr Starmer has more than one meal a day. Chris took my diabetic socks off, medications were issued, and we had a mini-waffle session.

I very belatedly changed the clock calendar.

Corned beef & potato hash.
A pot of instant mash, with a pinch of salt and black pepper, and a fork of Marmite added and mixed in, along with some garden peas.
With a pot of Ykos lemon yoghourt to have for afters. Nice! It went down well.

Now, I had to stay; I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. Huh! Zzzz!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Doctor this coming Thursday.
Need help with DDDD.
The seizures are coming more severely.
Hope the Doctor can help me.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski!

Inchy Friday 21st February 2025

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I’m not so acrobatic, more aquabatic…
When the catheter plug refuses to stick,
Tablets, creams and antiseptic,
A tendency towards being apathetic,
Learned today I’m agammaglobulinemic,
Realised that I’m obsolete, old, and antique,
Hopes & abilities, are not within my ambit,
I’d be better off out of it, abiotic…
More problems today got me apoplectic,
Life is a struggle, with little aleatoric,
Seizure troubles, Depressions… amphigoric!
I’m just stating life’s assertoric,
Everyday calamities, all amphigoric,
Not long ago, I was carefree, apolaustic,
Contentment? I long ago lost it…
World leaders turn greedy & autarchic,
Leaders used to be so moralistic…
Humankind’s future is but apocalyptic…
Catastrophic, cataclysmic, adiaphoristic!
Starmer ruins the UK, not apologetic,
To honesty & compassion, he must be allergic,
To self-wealth, Keir is apolaustic,
I’d like to buy him a soda, caustic!
He seems so stoic, sardonic, & satanic,
The fact that he’s scholastic, semantic,
He doesn’t seem to understand sympathetic,
Backhanders taken, the crooked schmuck!,
Labour’s values he does besmirch,
His speeches are hypnotic, soporific,
He is beyond being fair or sociologic,
When he talks, it’s rhetoric
With lies, deceit, all plethoric,
Is it possible for words to be pathogenic?
Cause his lies make me sick, phrenic!
His unwarranted greed is so apodictic,
His behaviour is psychosomatic,
His biggest lies used by pretermit,
His known lies have been so plethoric,
Sorry about this rant; was it poetic?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It’s been a nightmare today. It is now 17:40 hrs, and I’ve got the above done. It’ll be well into the morning before I get this done—if then! I’m going to have to rush, so mistakes and timings may well confuse you and me! Sorry. I’ll just accept Grammarly’s suggestion, even if it seems wrong. I’ve a lot to get through cause I had some mega-muck-ups. Not early on, things went decently, but as you can work out from my errors, the pain caused Anne Gyna to tear into me when I was uptight about the happenings. I’ll try not to go into too much minutiae and still get the message across.

I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning.
I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had things bleeding later on.
To the kitchen, took a snap.
Smidge brown sky? Tons of scribble I can’t read on the notepad here. Late on in the day, the Glaucoma seems to get much worse each night.
I’ll pick out the bits I can read.

Carer Joanne’s first call. Had a small but plwant nattwe and moan about things. We do that!
Ah, I did get the Thursday blog finished. A call was made on the intercom, and I assumed the supply of catheter bags was arriving. But no one arrived at the door. Now, a problem. Someone might be on the way up if I get dressed and go down to see if they had left it in the foyer. Left it a while longer. By now, the thought of them getting nicked got me all uptight, and Anne Gyna started; on the way to the lift and down to the ground floor, I had several mini seizures. As I exited the lift, Carer Joanne was getting in with my laundry, bless her.
We found a box that had been left in the lobby. It was from Parsley Box, the ready meals. Joanne carried it with me back to the flat. When I got in, an email said it had been delivered to the customer. This wrangled me. Joanne kindly hung the things up for me, and I emailed DHL and Parsley Box. Here’s a copy. Both were the same.

After I admitted the DHL driver to the flats, the parcel was left in the ground floor lobby.

After getting dressed, I went down to look in the lobby. Then, suffering from Anne Gyna and a seizure, I was lucky enough to bump into a Carer as I got out of the lift.

Carer Joanne tended to me and carried the box to the flat.

She will complain to Parsely Box and explain that I dare not order anything again for fear of the same thing happening again. It involved just too much hassle and physical pain. I live in this Warden-Aided Block of Flats (Flat 72, 12th floor), where the box is usually dropped off at my door.

I am disabled and not in good health, which is why I was ordering Parsley box meals.

I’m not seeking compensation; I’m just disappointed and need to look for a different supplier.

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I had a bit of a mess with the lift in the first place.
But can’t read enough to say more.
I got an email from the Post Office about delivery coming tomorrow, but not the catheters. Also, the prescriptions have not arrived, although they may have been dropped at the Carers office. I’ll phone the chemist in the morning.

It’s no good I can’t read things here. I’ll get the photos taken; they may trigger my non-existent memory.
Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done.
Emptied the Parsley Box meals.
Stake Hotpot.
Corned Beef Hash.
My favourite one here!

Tomatoes, they all had something in common…
The tomatoes, I mean.Miniature bottles of shandy.

After Anne Gyna calmed down, the Mini Seizures
started, and she could do nothing for ages, and didn’t.

Carer Chris made the teatime call at around 17:15hrs, and the medications were given.

I will go on the WP Reader and then clean the place up a smidgen. Get some nosh now. I thought I’d got bread in the freezer, but I haven’t. So, I’ll have loads of Nordic bacon instead to fill me up.
The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.

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Fare Thee Well!
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