Vasculitis Vanessa

Inchie: Accifauxpa Ridden Sunday 12th January 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Are you insalubrious, a drunk, or insidious?
Should one be a warmonger or a pacifist?
Would you believe an Oligarch or astrologist?
Do you need an allergist or chemist?
Are you carrying anything infectious?
Has your life been wonderful or inglorious?
Are you religious, agnostic, or irreligious?
Are you daily aerobicised or alcoholised?
Are you yet Starmer acclimatised?
Not believing the murderer might be wise?
He may well be the devil, the Anti-Christ?
A shame his mother didn’t use an abortionist,
He lies so well and is a good apophthegmatist,
PM, Labour leader? And not a socialist?
He’s too right-wing to be a Conservative…
For Starmer, there’s no live & let live,
Pensioners, he robs, lets farmers chew the cud…
The UK’s future is certainly not looking good…
He’s overdue to get his comeuppance,
But is there a genuine chance?
How did he get himself his Knighthood?
Are his fascist plans misunderstood?
For his lies alone, he should be braceleted,
He is indeed cruel, blackhearted,
I bet he’s still being backhanded!
Ensuring his own bread is well-buttered!
Keir lies, steals and never gets castigated?
I’ll be long dead by the time he’s cremated,
Which makes me feel cheated, exasperated,
I’ll be waiting for him in Hell, teeth-gritted…
Where his death can be celebrated!
By dead pensioners and farmers, that’d be good!
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NOT A BAD START TO THE DAY AT ALL!
I awoke at 04:15hrs with the regulation jerk and jump supported by . Both cartilages, Chloe and Carole, Arthur Itis’s knees, Electric Shocking Sherida, Duodenal Donald, and even Ann Gyna gave me a break. Shaking Shoulder Shirley and Peripheral Pete’s leg dance routines were active but not overly much. 
Until just before midday, I was singing away to myself.

Then, two falls in twenty minutes as Cartilage Chloe let me down both times. From then on, after the second tumble, I could not continue with the blog. 
Electric Shocks Sherida started, and more painfully, Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany followed. So, after lunchtime, this has thinner content than usual—almost nothing, at this moment.
A 100% change from the marvellous morning I’d enjoyed. Even the computer, particularly CorelDraw, crashed again, and I was struggling as it was. In the morning, I got yesterday’s blog off nice and early, too. Of course, now I’ve lost so much time. 
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I woke at 04:15hrs, Feeling surprisingly well. Sure (for some silly reason), the ailments listed above would soon settle. Hahahaha!
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, leaving it for the Carer to confirm the NHS colour rating later. As usual, I hobbled into the kitchenette to check the cooker, taps, etc. Taking these shots of morning view. The moon and another planet were visible, but I can’t see them in these pictures. Venus?
Still cold outside at 0°c.

I got the kettle on.
Forgot to make the tea.

Messy, spluttery and a lot of it!

Washed, no shave, fresh PPs on.
Medicated the lower region.

I went to make a brew again and took these later shots of the sky as it changed colour and hue.
Back to green today.

Pottered about getting the bags sorted. Finally, onto the computer with a mug of Co-op 99 tea.
After finishing and posting the Saturday update, I went onto CoralDraw. It crashed, so I had to restart and use the CCleaner, which took me over an hour to get things going again. But things were very slow.

Frustrated, I went to wash the mug and get away from the computer problems. But found another problem…
Cartilage Chloe gave way, as I bent down to get another bottle of cleaner from the cupboard. The tumble was all over in seconds, as I got mangled with the trolley and knocked just about everything on it to the floor on my way down.
I had to make my way back to the room on all fours to utilise the recliner to help haul my body from the floor. Which went amazingly well. Of course, both knees needed attention. The Catheter bag seemed alright, with no splits of leaks.
That will teach me not to take a walking stick with me!
I entered the wet room and rubbed some Phorpain Gel on my knees. Oiled my ear-holes at the same time. I forgot to earlier. Fancy that, me forgetting something!

I returned to the computer to see how to rescue the work lost on the CorelDraw crash.
Carer Kimberley arrived. Pointing out I’d got a wound on my head near the eye, asking what happened. I told her the sad tale of woe. She took a photo of it.It was barely a scratch, and there was no pain with it. Haha!
Medications given. And off she trotted, bless her.

I lost the artwork on CorelDraw. Now I was not happy!

I started the blog for today. After about two minutes, I felt worried that I had left the kitchen taps on.
And stupidly hobbled hastily to the kitchen, thinking, believing I had left the tap running.
As I got through the door (Stickless!).
MARK TWO
Cartilage Chloe had done it again! But the fantastic bit this time is I hit my head in almost the same place on the edge of the counter, so at least there was no mess to clean up.
I’m looking on the bright side here!
When Chloe did the net call, she took another photo.
A very slight headache, but no actual pain.
Apart from the knees again, Anne Gyna started, and she was serious about it this time.
Kimberley gave me a Codeine, and I sprayed toothache spray all over my teeth and mouth. Oh dear, what a day.
I also took some effervescent Paracetamol.

I’m not feeling terrific now.

I will get summat to nibble and get some rest.
Sleep would be nice, too. I’ll put some more Phorpain Gel on the knees first, but what to use for Anne Gyna, I don’t know.

Steak in Rich Stout Gravy
With onions. Added potatoes. Gorgeous!
Milk Roll bread to soak up the delicious gravy.
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Merci Au Revoir
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Inchy: Tuesday 7th January 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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I may be depressed & flat bound,
Perhaps I ought to be in a compound,
Doreen Dementia gives me the runaround,
And how little do you get for a pound?
Starmer is seeking self-wealth,
Rather like a bloodhound,
Me? I’d like some good health,
There’s more I’d like to expound,
I feel like I’m disallowed & disavowed,
Forcefully repudiated, denied, disowned,
Life used to be a playground,
Now, it’s a survival-free battleground,
Oligarchs & criminals seem to abound,
Animals like Starmer got empowered…
I need 2 hours to get shaved & showered!
My hopes are flattered & floundered,
I get worn out after I’ve hoovered,
I’m mentally & physically encumbered,
Rotting teeth, angina, bald-headed…
My common sense long ago defected, 
Violence and wars cannot be reined,
What’s more, I can’t get my TV started?
Starmer should be helped, assisted…
He should be airfreighted…
Go to Rwanda and get bayonetted!
Not fatally, just a painfully bloodied…
Come back and be treated by the NHS!
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ANOTHER BUST DAY 
It’d be about 0550hrs when I blossomed cheerfully, gaily, bursting into song, leapt out of bed, did a few hundred press-ups in the freezing balcony, and waved at the seagulls. I’d turned back into the fun-loving, delicate, humorous, beguiling young man I am.
Oh, alright then, I didn’t.
0550hrs: woke me up, and I passed a mammoth blast of wind from my rear-end and detached the from the day bag. I did a pretend imitation job of tidying the bed and took the BP readings. It was a Normal-High reading this morning. Yesterday, I had a ‘Hyper’ result. But that’s not so unusual. I often get one or two a week, and it usually bounces down again.

I grabbed , and went in the kitchen. What a fantastic hue the morning view offered me. I was, to me, more green than black of blue. The clouds seemed larger this time.

The intercom sounded as I was about to get the kettle on the boil. I realised then that I had an Asda order coming today. And so it was. I gingerly gathered the boxes and carriers I used to put the food into at delivery.
 I opened the door, and the driver seemed agreeable to putting the things in boxes and bags for me; bless him. As I took a carrier to put down the hallway… ailment number nine gave way. I tumbled to my right side, catching my nose against the corner of the wall. I don’t know how he did it, but the driver was through the door and prevented me from falling in a flash. A Hero! I’ve tried to get to the Asda site four times to offer my appreciation. All failed!

I got the food & cleaning things put away. Taking a couple of photos as I went along. The first one on the right shows fresh cream strawberry jam French Horns. Naughty, but so nice! 
The second snap shows potato cakes, cheesy potato balls, green tomato and onion pickled, and water chestnuts. I will try to home-pickle the chestnuts and some of the mushrooms tomorrow. I also got a can of lip balm for my cracked lip, saving the day again later. I like a Mystery, Hehehe! I stored the cleaners away and decided not to have a mug of tea but to get my ablutions done. I got the needed clothing and poddled off to the wet room. No Throne yet! I started with the fingernails, then got the shaving done. As far as I could tell, I was breaking a record here; a second morning of a cutless shave… I thought!
As I started the body wash, I felt the blood running down my lips and mouth. I looked in the shaving mirror, and a thin, tiny trickle of the red stuff flowed from my nostrils!
It seemed the leak point was slightly up inside my nose. Now, I could not even get the razor up there. It never poured but came persistently for one and a half hours.
Getting dressed and doing the body parts medicationings was interrupted by me having to keep dabbing at the blood. 
I wondered if I had done it when taking the tumble on the corner of the wall. I’ll never know. Hahaha! Better to go into a and claim a victory in getting no shaving cuts for two days! I moved into Level Two. Hehe!
Finished the medicating and got the PPs & clothing on, not without some bother and a little pain.

Finally, I got onto the computer. Only to find that my memory and concentration had gone to pot when I started writing on the day’s ode. This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. Carer Chloe arrived as the nose began bleeding again, not that it mattered at all; I wasn’t getting anywhere with it anyway. 
Humph & Granknangles!

Carer Chloe was concerned about my bleeding nose. She looked closely at it and asked if I had Vaseline to put on it. Then I remembered the Vaseline lip balm that had been delivered this morning. I got it from the drawer and put some on my nose and lips. The blood flow did decrease. Clever gal, Chloe! ♥ Chloe departed, saying she was coming back on a domestic call. I thanked her and bade her well.

I’m not doing well with my Ode here, so I went on CorelDraw to catch up on the photos. I was struggling. At one time, I thought the near tumble might have been caused by a reaction. Concentrating was so hard, and I guess the ode would not come out so well this time.

I’m assuming that came over me. Or, it’s possible I fell asleep… No, no, that’s impossible, come think of it. Because when I came back, a fair bit had been done on this blog. Enough for it to have taken me a couple of hours to get done. Teo hours had evaporated, and it took ages to do the amending and correcting the bloopers & mistakes made. I had a break and glass of lemonade, emptied the day pouch, and took two photos from the blooming cold balcony. The mudslide in the far car park was a lot smaller now. 
And one of the sky to the West and Wales. The clouds colouring rather impressed me.
Chloe returned. Then I realised that the nose had stopped running altogether, thanks to Chloe.
We decided what needed doing flatwork-wise, and she made a start. I think I kept talking to her, but what about is not available to Doreen Dementias’s memory now. Ah, I’ll check on the memory notepad. No, nothing was readable, and not much was on the pad. Tsk! 

After Chloe had gone, they started again, but they were all really short, as far as I can tell. Offputting but copable within the safety of being indoors.

I tried out the microwave roast potato bag for the first time. I just put in one bag… no, one potato. Mind you, I also only put it in one bag. I think I nearly lost the plot, theme and my sanity there! Hurrmph! 

I was working hard on this blog. I’m using this work too often, but I am struggling. I was going at it while the seizures were taking a break and suddenly noticed that the sunset was about to disappear, so I got the Kodak.

Beautiful!
I was awestruck.
What lovely nature…
Did my best, and for once, they came decent.

Carer Chris arrived. Medications were given.
We had a chat, he had a drink & nibble. Haha!

An hour or so later. I decided to try out the oven potato bag for the microwave. Oh, dear, the writing on the bag made me nervous, well, reading it did. I’ve copied it here:
WARNING

CONTENTS AND BAG MAY BE HOT – USE CAUTION
READ INSTRUCTION GUIDE CAREFULLY BEFORE USE.
IMPROPER USE MAY RESULT IN FIRE-MICROWAVE ONLY
DO NOT use in conventional oven.
DO NOT Microwave for more than 3 minutes at a time.
DO NOT heat on high
DO NOT do not use in microwave xithout food
DO NOT do not expose to naked flame
DO NOT leave microwave unattended during use
DO NOT do not place Potato Express™ near a hot surface
DO NOT do not cook oily or fried foods
Use only normal-sized potatoes!

I was scared stiff to use it!
Photo during cooking.
I PUT ONE LARGE POTATO IN.
What is a normal-sized potato?
Cooked it for 4 minutes – rock hard.
Gave it another 4-minutes. hard
Then, another minute.
Then, another minute.
And it still wasn’t ready.
I gave up and had a bag of crisps!
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WHAT A VIEW!
I stayed looking at this scene for a few minutes. I was so engrossed just viewing it, I didn’t realise I was getting rained on. You just have to see the funny side. Hahaha!
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Going to phone the Doctor in the morning about these seizures. I told her the first time they appeared, and I was more or less told that many people with FND and PN have them.  I felt guilty taking up her time.

NOSH
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TTFNski, all the bestest!
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Dhoti Inchy: Tue 24th December 2024

/ Inchie / 22 Comments

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Are you aware of this Starmer? Silly Question!
As if the Pensioner Killer would be interested!
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I’d liked to have been cleverer, astuter,
I was too busy being beaten up, & my tutor!
Then, I may have had a better life’s agenda,
Whatever is the difference between a proton…
(Not the car), and a neutral nucleon,
I think combined, they make a neutron?
Career paths that I did consider…
May I have written a book or been a surgeon?
Been a scientist, physicist or an inventor?
A scholar, maybe even the Prime Minister,
But I’ll soon lose that desire, seeing Starmer!
Remember the 11-plus, I failed that quickly,
Did I blame this on my angiocardiography?
Well, no, I had that 50 years later…
Or on the girls, who made me droolier?
The blonde-midget they used to call me.
I was about as tall as anyone’s knee,
That, I can blame on my descendency,
Uncle Arthur was only 4 foot three,
Auntie Muriel was even shorter than he,
But I grew to mind-blowing 5’3″,
Had humour and agility, also an alienability,
My failing academically drew hostility,
From those in authority, friends and family,
But the sneering stopped one day, abruptly,
I fell into the canal, in which they threw me!
I worked from 1960 until the first redundancy
That arrived when in security in 2003,
Life consisted mainly of failure & discomfiture,
I started in a house that had little furniture,
Now, in my flat with dyspraxia, & dystaxia…
Apnoea, acrasia, apepsia & aprosexia,
Determined to reach a state of ataraxia,
As I eat my meal of chips & Golonkowa…
And think of ways to terminate Starmer!
Well, someone should; he’s a pensioner killer!
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A Messy, getting-nowhere-fast day.
21:00hrs before I started this main blog.
Seizure Sandra has been busier than any other time.
Luckily, at least up to now, they have all been short (but frequent) episodes. DVT Warfarin Angel Hristina called unexpectedly. It is always a welcome, wanted, satisfying experience. ♥ Carer Cloe did the first call. Then, the second, as well, a domestic visit. Carer Sam did the middle call. Carer Christopher just finished the next-to-last call. Well, it gives him something to eat and drink. Hehehe!
With all the breaks throughout the day, I got more confused and blundered about making errors. Then, trying to sort them out the first time. This did not succeed on one of the problems, let alone the dozens I’d made). I’m going to have to rush this one from here on; sorry if any cock-ups are missed. Otherwise, I’ll never get to sleep again and never catch up on the lost head-downs. It makes things more complex with a lack of scribbled notes, and those I made are not fully legible. Here goes.

Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.

ABLUTIONING & MEDICALISATIONING

The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
I got the bowl out to stand in to soak the plates of meat and had to use the WC first.
Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Constipation Conrad was back in charge. But to the disappointment of Harold Haemorrhoids. I made a few slip-ups with the razor in my rush.
The Medicationings were made a mess of. Most of them. The groin area was cleaned a little too enthusiastically. But I stopped the bleeding eventually. Then, stupidly, I did the same on the one ailment that’s the most painful anyway, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. I lost some of the red stuff on this wet room visitation. Plenty of plasters and bandages, though. As I dried off, I felt more blood coming onto my chin. I checked in the shaving mirror and saw that my lips had cracked. They hadn’t been touched or hurt before this. Of course, now my mixed-up Doreen Dementia-owned brain has seen them; they have been irking me all day.

Got the waste bags sorted out.

Made a start on the blogging.

Nurse Hristina arrived, the highlight of the day!
The Carers called one after the other.
I was lost as to what I was going to do next.
Chloe, then Chloe again—bless her for doing the Domestics. She found that many food items in the fridge had one day’s life left, and a couple had to be thrown away. My overflowingly full fridge now looked more on the bare side! The photo taken had dematerialised and was lost in the ether!

The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.

After Carer Christopher called.
I took two shots of sunsetting.

Back on the blog prepping.
I took some snips of Cartoons to use later.
CrelDraw was incredibly slow! Oh, dear!

I pressed on, but it was taking so long. Could I continue? CorelDraw froze, and WordPress seemed to stutter at times.
I keep saying I need help.

Two later snaps of the evening sky.

Not so good.
.

I had to give up.
Tired out and annoyed at things.
I’ll make a meal.
I’ll catch up in the morning. Unless The Grim Reaper calls, but that’s only obvious.
TTFN.
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Nearly midday in the morning. Lots of disaster-mode events kept me from doing this earlier.

Tuesday Continued:
After a decent nosebleed, after I’d stopped to get summat to eat. The tissues burst open the cracks on the lip, stopping the nosebleed and opening them up!
They didn’t pour with blood, but stopping them took me ages! They would start again within minutes whenever I thought I’d stopped them. Humph! 

The intercom rang. I thought it might be an unknown carer, but I could not hear what he was saying.I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.

2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.
I drank a bit of blood when I was eating the meal.
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Barmier Inchy: Monday 23rd December 2024

/ Inchie / 9 Comments

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To relax, I tried banzai. Or was that bonsai?
I ended up in the hospital, nearly bled dry…
Oh, with a cut lip, broken nose & a blackeye,
I didn’t die, but I caught diplococci,
Starmer, he does falsify and farcify…
Pensioners, he hates, & will not fortify,
He’s not been assassinated… I wonder why?
I see food, fuel, etc. prices again rising high,
Is he honest or a crook, you can’t identify,
Until they mug or kill you or poke you in the eye,
Dictators, Oligarchs, Politicians crooked, why?
Warmongers, so many innocents die,
Life is complicated; it needs formulae,
The violence is rife; it makes my brain lignify,
MPs work creates mamihlapinatapai,
If Starmer was a bird, he’d be a magpie!
He lies, he’s greedy, creates profundify,
He’ll eventually bleed the poor dry,
To him, commoners are just succubi,
Parliament needs to defunkify,
Even if the end is nigh…
This is all likely pie-in-the-sky?
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I worked through the night, the bed untouched.
Computing and Blog-Catch-Up.

At 05:30hrs, I emptied the urine pouch. While doing so, I decided to close the computer down and run a Ccleaner session. Then turn off the computer, and get the Ablutions & Medications sorted out.  But first, I did a bit of flat-titivating. I sorted all the waste bins into two bags. I’d made a lot of rubbish while nearly falling asleep for so long. But despite this, Sweet Morpheus would not let me nod off. I checked on the pickling mushrooms by tasting one of them and a piece of water chestnut. They looked okay, but the flavour told me they may pickling for another day.

I hobbled into the wet room to make a start on the Ablutionisationing and Medicalisationing.

I thought the Renauds on my feet and toes looked much easier. But I still had my reading glasses on. This photo I took proved me wrong. Yes, I was tired, but I didn’t feel weary. Does that make sense?
The feet washing in the bowl while I shaved and did the teggies went very well. And the shaving produced just 2 minuscule face nicks. I was doing well under the circumstances. The medicalisationing, apart from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, seemed to go great!
Even getting the PP’s one was less bother than usual.
SMUG-MODE ENGAGED!
Dried and dressing gown on.
My plan to get into the bed was interrupted. As I 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 watch another great 1950’s film in black & white. And drifter off into the bliss of sleep!

Carer Richard arrived. He was not in a gay mood, but I could tell he was upset about something. He didn’t laugh once during this visit. No, I told a lie! (I’m getting like Starmer!) My EQ told me he was not feeling well. I hope he feels better after he gets some kip and food inside him. Richard had the diabetic wadding on and supports on both legs again. After the lad had left, I soon drifted off into a much-needed but too short sleep.

Carer Chloe woke me up on her first call. I was deep in sleep. We chatted, but I’m not sure what it was about. I think it was Carer Chloe, my being rudely awakened. Hahaha! 

I restarted watching the film. And fell off into bliss again, missing the end of the movie! Grumph! But I do need the sleep catching up on. I slept until an hour and a half later.

Carer Joanne woke me up. Bless her; she brought up my washing and kindly hung the laundered gowns for me in the hallway. 

The sleep was a little longer this time, but I shot awake with Electric-Shocking-Sherida blasting away at me. She’s such a persistent ailment! I gave up on sleeping. Sherida had beaten me again! I took a photo of my beloved old-fashioned clock calendar. Nearing 15:00hrs. So I had to rise and get on the computer to start blog catching up all over again. Will it ever end? Hehe! I mustn’t moan; I think in between Carers calling. I got around five hours of sleep. But, I need more yet. On with the blog!

Two tasty-tasting cheesy-topped rolls slathered with mushroom pâté de campagne. Pickled shop-bought green-yellow tomatoes, red peppers and onions. Fish balls, cooked in the air-fryer, home-pickled water chestnuts & mushrooms. Followed by a pot of lemon fool dessert.

I found another 1950s black-and-white movie on the TV. I then settled in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.to watch it, accompanied by the five empty packets in the bin in the morning of Frazzles!

I stayed awake enough to watch half an hour of the film, and when the adverts came on, I drifted irresistibly into the land of Nod with Sweet Morpheus.
I was still in the chair 6 hours later when I woke up.

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Industrious Inchy: Sun 22 Dec 2024

/ Inchie / 7 Comments

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From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration,
His childhood stolen; his heart broken…
Full of fear and apprehension,
Daily failures, Mother in police detention…
Very little learning or education,
He grew up in debt and devil-ridden,
He became an expert in deprivation,
Coped with destruction, devastation…
In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection,
I got shot twice when working in protection,
Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction,
I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption,
I retired, to constant hospitalisation,
Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation,
Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion,
Struggling now on my meagre pension,
Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation!
Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation,
Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption,
Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion,
Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion,
Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression,
Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation…
My hopes & plans are mere theorisation,
I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion,
As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten,
There’s always something I’ve forgotten…
Unavoidable depths of depression…
Self-vilification & condemnation,
Self-criticism, and animadversion,
Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation,
Any length of time, sometimes in repetition,
Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion,
Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten,
No shortages of ointments and medication,
I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon!
Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken,
Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion,
Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion…
Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian,
Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen,
Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum,
Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm,
Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion!
Every day is literally an ordalian,
My flat is like a prison or garrison,
Compared to my youth there is no comparison,
Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian…
They’ll tell you not to eat bacon,
But you will, as a revengeful impulsion,
For your mental & physical distortion,
I think life is an intermission…
Or maybe an incantation?
I think the above lines were malapropian,
Best just stick with eating smoked bacon?
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06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did. 
I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag.

The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?

So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.

Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results. 
That, as you see, didn’t work!


Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved. 
Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub…
Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!

Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. MedPhorpain(I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I  , then ,  where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to . 
Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang!
. The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly!
I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released!
As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me! 
I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no!  had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning..
As I was getting my dressing gown on…
I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before. 
This also baffled me!

I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk!
I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!

I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.

Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.

Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card?
Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner.
The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats.
The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t!
That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!

I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.

Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.

Carer Kimberley made the next call.

I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses. 

When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!

I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures.
Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased.
About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!

Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack.
I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.

Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!

Then, I made the second snack of the day.
I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.

I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful.
At 0025hrs, I got my head down.

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May Your Maracas Remain Musical!
TTFNski
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Cockamamie Inchy: Wed 18 December 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments


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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day.
I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!

I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey!
I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!)
Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card?
I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!

Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.

The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have.
Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!

Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.

When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.

I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.

I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!

I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route.
What Morrison order!
I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door.
Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure.
There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been!
Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before.
Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.

Then things got even worse…
I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about. 
The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven.
THE
A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it!
I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me?
Stupid Question.
I’ve lost the will to bother.

I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all.
Another failed plan for today.

I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one.
Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.

This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year.
And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.

I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven. 
I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.

Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food.  I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.

Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink. 
Best not to waste them.

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WORRADAY!
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Keep Warm, Safe, sane and Happy!
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Chumpier Inchie: Tuesday 17th December 2024

/ Inchie / 10 Comments

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It may have only been a temporary & transient moment, but when I stirred at 05:20hrs, there was a worrying amount of satisfaction in the air! Verging almost on contentment!
As soon as I knocked the cut thumb against the catheter stopper when releasing it, and blood flowed – so did the depression. All my worries about the chemist, booking problems that need outside help to call the pharmacy, the audio centre, and booking a lift to get the hearing aids amended flowed as well. The reason for this near-waking jollity baffled me at first. Why? Why? Why should it have been there to greet me as I woke up? Why? I was soon back in grumpland & painland.
As the confusion eased. The worry, too, was when I realised the likely answer would be that I’d been dreaming. Not that I could recall any details. But an aura lingering in my grey cells indicated… well, passion! Hehehe!

As I heaved my cumbersome overweight bellied body off of the bed and sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, alarm bells rang (pain) from Little Inches Fungal Lesion and poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I could feel the fresh-cracked, previously dried blood trickling free from those areas. I hobbled to the wet room to investigate. Not liking what I discovered.
I cleaned up the rear end and groin and got the ablutions tended to before attempting any medications. The shave produced far too many cuts; I may have had a mini-seizure while shaving… but I’m not sure. Am I ever?

All I know for sure is that after finishing the razor work, I had a bloody lip, nose, and neck (four cuts at the back!), and I’d somehow got another cut under the thumbnail to add to the one where I stabbed the end of the bead knife under the nail yesterday! Still, the Brut aftershave soon stemmed the flowing red stuff.
Oh, and it stung a bit! Hey-Ho!

The pain from getting Little Inchies Fungal Lesion done first only deserves one word… ARRGH! Ear holes are olive-oiled, and the eye drops and spraying were sorted. As for the Nurse told me to use the Barrier Cream on Harrold’s Haemorrhoids, well, not after last night’s agony, mate! I went back on the Germolois ointment, which was a blessed relief! Almost instant as I applied it. Costly, though! I used my small picker-upperer to apply the cream to the ulcer and Renaud-Ridden Toes. I also sprayed some Dettol on the ankle ulcers and Germolene on the cracked lips and nose. The tiny split in the thumbnail edge. Getting my dangling man breasts and back medicated was not so easy; I couldn’t reach where I needed to be. I’ve got a fair girth amidships! (Later on, Carer Chloe applied it for me, thank you, Chloe ♥)

Getting the Protection Pants on this morning took me much longer than my recorded time of 11 minutes. However, on the bright side of things, albeit a marathon session (Honestly!), there was no bleeding whatsoever… I’d like to say that again, please… There was no bleeding whatsoever! .

I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and got the 1970’s manual clock adjusted to today’s numbers. The care did it again and made the right side of the photo look ultra bright? I wish I knew what I was doing wrong! Well, I stabbed myself again! I went to put the mushrooms in the slow cooker to pickle them tonight. And… for the third time on the trot of using the sharp pointy knife, I stabbed myself in my hand. I must stop!

I returned to the kitchenette, as the 99 tea had gone cold, and I made a super strong mug with two tea bags in it. To a snap of it, then without changing anything on the Kodak, I took the shot above from the window of the greenish morning sky. Much later, when it came to putting the photos on CorelDraw, the mug of extra strong tea was not on the SD card, but, as you can see, the green sky came through okay to the card?

I checked on the Google calendar, realising I’d not put the appointment on it for the (I love this old title) (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis. (VTR) Venous thromboembolism includes (PE) pulmonary embolism (PE) and the Warfarin Monitoring Clinic. They’ve changed it now, and it has a humdrum title: Anticoagulation Clinic. Hehe! Also, please note I’ve got three food orders arriving in three days? Have I lost my grip on things again? (Well, it’s likely) Asda yesterday, Iceland today, and Ocado tomorrow. Hopefully, I can do without an order until or after Christmas now. Most of the items on these three, well, not on Ocado but the others, is treats and drinkies for the staff, Nurses & Carers for Christmas.

The Iceland order arrived. The driver took the bags to the kitchen for me; there were only four of them. Very few fresh products. Apart from the mushrooms that I hope to turn into pickled mushrooms today, and three days later, I will be ready for nibbling! So the fridge looked about the same as it did yesterday. Not that I needed anything anyway. But I must resist getting anything else in, or the bank manager will have my guts for garters. By gum, sorting the other bags out took me a while.
They both had Christmas nibbles and treats in them.
I have two shelves filled with drinkies to offer the Christmas workers this year. Hopefully, no nurses will need to call, but I must ring them and tell them to collect their bottles.
The nibbles bowl was filled. I had to put some of them on the Carer’s desk. A decent choice to offer them this year. I love doing this, but it doesn’t stop them from telling me off occasionally… well, often. Haha! 

arrived, as I was finishing sorting out the fodder and was just about to start prepping the mushrooms for cooking and then pickling them. We discussed if she could help me in the morning instead of doing domestic work and if she could try to call the audio clinic or chemist for me to help sort out my concerns. I think she said she may be able to try the clinic. Oh, I hope she can get through.

I started updating the blog. Since there is not much left to do on Mondays, I should send it out earlier today.

Carer Chloe returned as I’d just finished cooking and pickling and jarred up the mushrooms. I fear that the first attack of the day came from . Hence, I cannot recall much of what took place. I do remember her using the Hoover thingamibob. But little else, Tsk!

After Chloe had left, I turned my attention to the mushrooms that were now cooked and the task of pickling them. I hope I got the order of things right. I drained and cleaned the mushrooms from the slow cooker. Left them to cool down a little and washed the cooker basin. I stored the mushroom in the now empty pickling jar. They looked a lot darker than yesterday? Hope they turn out alright. I’ve got the remainder of the uneaten ones in a used jar and got them out of the fridge for later tonight (although it looks like it may be in the early hours of the morning; I’m so far behind with everything, grumpy, groan and gragknacles!

My lovely neighbour Jenny telephoned me. She had read the blog about my hearing aid problem and offered to give me some batteries if that was the problem.
She is so kind to me. ♥

Then I received an email from Lisa in the US of A! Another Gem in my life. She commiserated with my problems; she has more than enough of her own. ♥ Told me of for feeling guilty, Bless her Cotton Socks! ♥

Carer Sam called. She said she would find my laundry bag and return it to me if she could. I don’t think she found it. Carer Chris did the teatime call and did not bring it up, but he might have it on his last call. No, I have confidence in the lad, absolutely. Mind you, if it disappeared, it’d be the fourth time since I started having Carers take it to the launderette.
Good Luck and I do not have an affinity!
Having quoted that, it was lovely today having two angels asking how things were.
Jenny 💛 & Lisa 🧡 

It’s late now. I’ll get summat to eat, methinks.

Nice feast of sorts here! Home pickled mushrooms and water chestnuts, cheesy rolls well non-butter buttered, with dabs of Marmite. Potatoes, garden peas, pickled eggs (shop-bought), and a very tasty tub of delicious lemon curd yoghourt.

Carer Christopher made his last call.
And he immediately set to getting the new mini-oven out of the box and into action on top of the old, broken-down large cooker.
Took him no time at all. I couldn’t lift the box, let alone get it up onto the old cooker.
We turned on the electricity after plugging it into a socket. I admit to a slight nervousness about doing this. Remembering what happened with the old cooker… Would it blow the fuses again? Well, after showing me the controls, I turned on the oven. It was heating up immediately, and no blown fuses to put us in the dark!
Great” Thanks, Chris!
Chris issued the medications and got the nocturnal catheter to bog out for me to put on. We forgot to take my diabetic socks off, but things were rushed a little while doing the cooker for me, so I’m not bothering about the Night bag at all. After Christ departed, I got a Kodak camera out and took this shot of the cooker, with it lit up inside and my reflection of taking the shot on the glass. The flask masked the two hobs on top of the machine. Humph!
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Flawed Inchy: Friday 6th December 2024

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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Life is spent mainly in the flat here…
Doing my post in the blogosphere,
Accompanied by my leaking catheter,
Falling & forgetting things is regular,
My man breasts need a brassiere,
Waking into things while hobbling,
Forgetting to put my hearing aids in,
BP shooting up and then dropping,
Toppling over when diapering,
And as for the medicationing…
Certain areas are beyond reaching,
My being shaped like a flabby Buddha,
Ointmentating, like on the lesions puncture,
It must be comical to watch for any onlooker,
Like the poor first of the day calling Carer!
Christopher once burst into laughter,
Diabetic socks off, then on as it gets darker,
Well, I am now an ageing old codger,
I’m getting challenges arithmetically,
Can no longer rely on my memory,
Doing my best with ailments physically,
No help at all with my problems mentally,
Neuropathy, seizures, or dementially,
Neurotransmitters dying off, & FND,
I use a lot of Germolene & TCP,
Gladys Glaucoma, Toothache Tiffany…
Cartilage Carol (right) (left), it’s Chloe,
Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, daily,
Dizzy Dennis, Electric shocking Sherida,
Medication hearing aid batteries get costlier,
Shaving, with cuts via the razor,
The average ablution time is now two hours,
We’ve voted stealer-Starmer as Prime Minister,
I’m far worse off financially!
Some days, I live apathetically,
Or I struggle through, pathetically,
Got that old age quality – caducity…
Hence, I wrote this goliardery!
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I woke up and did some press-ups, a few squats, and a bit of shadowboxing. Then, I ran down 15 floors of the stairs and back up again.  Hahaha! 
At 06:00hrs, I stirred from my broken slumber. It took me six minutes to untangle the . Oddly, and a first, this was… I had six shocks in succession from the right ankle. No more for 10 hours!

And what a mess I’d made of taking the urine photograph. I’ve no idea what I did wrong. It was on the auto setting when I took the picture. Off to the wet room, I trudged and wobbled. 
It was another marathon session, and it took a lot of encouragement, forcefulness, and pain to get things to even start. Keeping the torpedo moving was difficult; it was so big again. I think the oohs and arghs might have helped a little. I had to use the long, stiff bamboo cane to break ‘things’ up so that the cistern could cope with getting the evacuated product down the pipes to the sewer. Phwor! 

I washed and medicated the delicate areas. Compared to yesterday, it was a real struggle to put on the fresh PPs. Went into the kitchenette. Where I took the photo above. Then, I saw a view on offer about five minutes later, with another shot of the same area, after I’d noticed the sudden change in the sky’s hue. Green to brown?
I sorted the waste bags and took them to the rubbish chute. It was 07:00 hrs now, so the noise of flying down the tube for 12 floors shouldn’t bother anyone. I hope it didn’t.

I got on the computer to update things, but this seemed to bother them, and they kept kicking off pretty regularly. Although I didn’t detect any long ones (of course, there may have been), it just meant I had to keep rechecking what I’d done while I was in La-La-Land. I did this, correcting a few errors while my concentration was disconnected. I’m doing poetry here without realising it!

I changed the day & dates on my super-advanced, new-to-me clock/calendar thingamabob.
I thought that having this and altering it daily would help me remember the day, date and time better. It doesn’t! I’m sure it must have been made in the 1970s, but I like it.

Taking this shot later, from the kitchenette window, Carer Christopher arrived. The nibbles & drinkies were attacked with some style. Hehe!

The lad sorted the medications, then he put the diabetic socks on my legs and replaced the bag for me. Bless him. 

This view of Junk Room one was snapped. I wandered into the kitchen to take one of Junk Room Two. A whiff of guilt was scented, but not for long.
I checked in the fridge for the use-before dates that I could read. They seemed good to me.

At this point, I involuntarily passed the loudest and longest burst of leg-bending, body-lifting wind that has ever escaped my rear-end in 70-odd years! 
I just thought I’d mention it!

Eventually, I got the Thursday blog sent off, as Carer Joanne arrived for the midday call. 
Despite continuing, I pressed on with the blogging of this post. But it was gruellingly slow going.
I could call it torturously, but I won’t.

Embarrassingly, a Tesco food order arrived. I think it’s best to try to stop having food delivered. Weather, time, and health permitting, I might try to get to Heron’s food store in Sherwood instead. I’ll phone Jenny when I find out whether the nurse will call. I’m not with it at this moment. But I must stop having all these unwanted deliveries.
Confused? Me? Yes!

I did something I’d not done in a while  as I hastened to get to the intercom in time to admit the delivery driver. Not that it bothered me; naturally, I laughed it off with gay abandonment.

The driver put the things in the boxes without any hesitation for me. And I placed them in the hallway. It was a learning curve for me emptying the bins. Cause I was blown away if I could remember making the order in the first place. Obviously, it must have been done during one of the prolonged seizures last week. I put the cleaning materials in junk room three. Then, I emptied the box; why did I order two packets of microwave sausages? I’ve already got a packet of frankfurters in the fridge! And I got desserts when I’ve got all those jellies in the refrigerator? And I got more bacon and different types of bread rolls! I’m losing it here! There is no doubt about it. Inchy’s lost it!
The fridge is looking fuller now, and with Carer Chris’s help, I discovered that I have another delivery coming tomorrow!
I think I need help.

Depressed now. Fed up, confidence shattered. Feelings of self-hating and embarrassment flooded over me.

I photographed the evening view and went back to writing this blog post. I’m not sure how I feel now. I would generally have been so angry with myself. But now I just feel depressed at my inability to control my own actions and life. Cognitive Impairment Iris, Diabetic Doreen Dementia and FND have beaten me.

Carer Chris made his next-to-last call. I continued here for a while and then sorted out a meal. Can anyone guess what the things on the food tray are? I’m not sure myself.
Thanks to this morning’s (Sat) repeated seizures and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, with Glaucoma Gladys being in one of her foggy-misty-view modes.
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Cheers!
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Grouchy Inchy: Thursday 5th December 2024

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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Self-Judgemental methinks?
With life, I’m becoming unaffiliated, 
Mentally & physically more afflicted,
I’m not angry, but I am aggravated,
I can’t get problems solved or alleviated,
My lifestyle is far too antiquated,
My hopes & needs have been attenuated.
My thoughts & actions remain authenticated,
My failures are now expected, just accepted,
My final dream is still awaited…
To see Starmer assassinated.
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0600hrs: Stirred back into a mock-pretence of life, detached the nocturnal cater pouch from the day pouch and fumbled as fast I could out of bed, and hobbed to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne.
Released one multicoloured cement-like torpedo. It took a while. Minimal bleeding, though.

Sorted a new recovery layout for the lost, leaked-via-the-catheter urine stains on the carpet. 
It’s gonna take a long time to entirely refresh it. Phew!

I limped off to the kitchenette to put the kettle on. 
Taking this snap from the offer view. The blue hue view that was on offer. Hehe!

My first Christmas Card arrived via the postman. Followed shortly after by an Amazon order. The card was from Jill & Eugene.

 The box contained the microwave cooking plastics that I ordered. One which had a divided content divider in the middle so as to cook and not mix together whatever you did not want to mix in the first place… Lost the word plot there! As if it was something different, me making an error, mistake, Accifauxpa or Seizure was different.

This snap relates to how I felt at the time of taking it. Darl, Dank & Depressed.
Previously, I don’t think I had a single seizure, not that I couldn’t have; I just couldn’t recall noticing any. 
This changed. I felt a series of long-winded ones and have little memory of the next few hours. I found notes I’d scribbled on the notepad, but unfortunately, most of them were unreadable; I could make out a few lines, though they didn’t make the clarification of their message any more transparent. 
I fear I might have placed another food order. I’ll check all the sites later when I feel more like myself.

The only thing I could read clearly was a few lines that read, “Warden Deana called to do an alarm check.” But I cannot recall this at all. That bit of writing was done so well, clearly, and readable. There’ll be a reason for that.
If I find it, I’ll let you know.

I gave up and put myself even further behind with the blog.
Then I made the daily meal: Milk Roll bread beef sarnies with no-butter butter, dabbed with Marmite, tomatoes, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, chestnuts, and Stilton Cheese. Very Nice!

A short-on-detail blog, I’m sorry to say,
It was a very confusing sort of day,
Seizures made things go diversionary,
This may read delusory, in disarray,
Many items & events were missed, I daresay.
I’ll make a mug of tea, Glengettie!
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TTFNski!
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Ivanhoe Inchy: Fri 29th Nov 2024

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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Have we oldies been accessorised?
Is this something to do with Starmer’s lies?
Should politicians be backhanders or exemplifiers?
I ask these things cause I’m not very wise,
Are Oligarchs crooked financiers?
Ought our PM’s be gonfalonieres?
I think they show their audacities, & artificialities,
Their answers seem to decontextualise…
Questions answered seem to extemporise…
Explanations, hypothesise or theories,
No guilt is shown; suspicion then intensifies,
Reasons for the oldies mental malaise…
Deafness, Dementia we can’t always ostracise,
Maybe paralysis, prosthesis, or psychosis?
Voting for who? The least bloodthirsty?
Some seek self-profit, adversely…
Some act cunningly, some with ambiguity,
If I was PM, I’d lead anacreontically,
Towards the aged, I’d act adminicularly…
Starmer is more a dictator than an abecedary,
So he can’t bring or supply equanimity.
His nature & outlook are not very veritable,
I think their future is looking terrible…
Some looked to me like just fixed addicts,
One appeared to be doing mind acrobatics,
Many seemed to be on antibiotics…
One was ever-scratching at her bedticks,
The chancellor looked like a Wiccanist,
The chap next to her, like a voodooist?
Gurning Starmer looked the wealthiest,
His cabinet lot looked the weirdest…
Backbenchers suffered from wanderlust,
Sturmer got a few scolding looks,
They were from the wannabes,
Rachel Reeves started to apothegmatise…
Using axiomatics to hide her lies,
It was matter-of-fact, nowt to energise…
To give false hope would not be wise,
No hope giver Starmer, but an annihilationist,
A farmer-hating Starmer and gerontophilias,
Who leads his turncoat MPs, the nudnicks…
Policy changed from Socialist to psychosis,
The sceptics changed their semantics,
From romantics to political bandits,
From scholastics to schizophrenics,
Humane to back-hander-holics!
From honourable to Oligarchal!
Labour’s already as rusty as my belt buckle!
Their honour dies, leaving no sparkle…
I wouldn’t mind if Starmer gets suicidal!
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This blog was not started until 14:00hrs on Saturday.
Between Mini-Seizures, Dizzy Dennis, and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm—backed up with Glaucoma Gladys—and the computer failing to save again, it’s been a long, unsuccessful, lousy day for me. (18:10 hrs).
I suppose I made a decent start, though. I did complete December’s templates. However, I even got the dates wrong on many of them, so I had to change each one to regain the required sequence of dates. Also, a few photos were saved, but not many were taken.
If it was go-wrongable, it did!
Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Bleeding.
Toothache Tiffany. Mini-Seizures. Dozzy Dennis.
Harold’s Haemorrhoids were debilitating still now!
I did manage to get some sleep in though.
Up at 04:15hrs. Sleep was a little better, but nowt to shout about, I’ve still not caught up with all the days lost.
Urine is a better colour!

Sorry, but it’s so late. I’ll just put the few photos I’ve got on… if the computer lets me. 
Morning views.

Ablutions, I couldn’t use the shower cause the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. Stand-up wash shave, teggies, medicationalisationed, scented things. Haha!
It still took me two hours without showering..
Carer Chris
Started the templates.
Carer Joanne.
Finished the templates.
Seizures and Dizzies were bad.
Made a food order for the following Monday.

Suddenly drained after a good start as well.
Fell asleep in the computer chair…
Woke up when I fell off of the computer chair.
Slipped, hauling my massive body up from the floor.
Hit head on the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. Nose & teeth bleeding. (They soon stopped; the headache lasted a little longer, though)
Carer Chris came; he wanted a can of cider… well, he took the last two of them. He didn’t, but he put them in the fridge to cool them and will collect them on his next visit.
Not a lot, but I wasn’t hungry.

Acne & Ezcema is back again!

Sorry, it’s so short.
Time won today. I’m too tired to start today’s blog, and it’s too late anyway. So, I expect it will be another battle to get things done for tomorrow’s blog. I think!

TTFNski – Have a Great Day!