Wheezing

Inchy: Saturday 10th May 2025

/ Inchie / 8 Comments

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I didn’t particularly run, more absquatulated,
The plans for the attack were soon abrogated,
The CO’s plans seemed so distorted, aberrated…
2nd Corp was soon abscinded,
The enemy got so aggravated…
Our armour arrived, defences were annihilated,
Remnants withdrew, not chicken-hearted,
Their ammunition, fuel, expended…
We were welcomed and adulated,
Winners, victors, it’s complicated,
Yet war is not globally hated?
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05:30 hrs: I had a verbal and emotional argument with myself. The Inchy part of me wanted to get up and do the ablutions and medicationings, then get onto the computer and try to catch up with my blogging. However, the other, being in residence in my brain (EQ Inchie), wanted only to give up and stay in the comfortable, snug bed to try to get back to sleep again. We both partly agreed with the other.
As we argued, we removed the nocturnal bag from the day pouch, and things turned unwanted! A bit of panic as a rear-end evacuation started on its own accord – I fumbled my way to the wet room.

Carer Ejaz treated the catheter contraption 
wounds and bruises.

Kitchen view.

Sweetcorn fritters were put in the oven.
20 minutes of cooking time.
Two hours later, I took the burnt food from the stove and threw it away. 
Tsk!

A microwave meal is sorted.

Sorry that there’s not much on here.
I spent more time out of it than with it.
Mini-seizures, I assumed.

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All the best!
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Inchy Today: Monday 10th March 2025

/ Inchie / 5 Comments

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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

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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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

/ Inchie / 2 Comments

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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!
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HOWZAT!
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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!

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TTFNski!
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Inchy Today: Friday 28th March 2025

/ Inchie / 4 Comments

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– Good Run Continuing! –
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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…
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Oligarchs, a financial sovereign,
People starving in Suriname,
Chinese think war is a game…
Prices and tax rises, gigantean.
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Starmer, EU, arcane, inhumane,
Backhanders, threats to ducdame,
Wars, death, it always the same,
Do they resist, desist, complain or deign?
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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,
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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!
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Which leader is a Bonapartean?
Which leader is a Hitlerarean?
Which leader is a Robespierrean?
Which leader is a Shakespearean?
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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!
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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!
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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.

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TTFNski!
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Inchy: Thursday 27th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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If I can if I can pass to pensioners some pain,
Kill a farmer financially as I pass along,
Kill some pensioners, although it’s wrong,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Then my living shall not be in vain,
Take backhanders & get given a gong,
Then my living shall not be in vain.
If I do my duty as an Oligarch ought,
Make sure the war in Ukraine is still fought,
If I can spread messages that Hitler taught,
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
Then my living shall not be in vain
If I can help somebody as I pass along
And become a billionaire before too long…
Then my living shall not be in vain!
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0310hrs: I had an awakening like never before. I was instantly discombobulated. I knew I had to get up early for something… or did I? After a few minutes of trying to ascertain this seemingly critical mission was. I drifted back to sleep. That in itself was a rarity for me.

I woke up later, and the same thing happened. I was disorientated and perhaps getting a smidgeon psychotic over not recalling the urgent whatever it was!
I nodded off a second time. I had a dream this time: I was in a canal at night, keeping afloat using a wooden door. The next awakening was back to the usual style… with some  shooting up my right leg, while gave me few jerks to the right. As if orchestrated, the moment stopped and launched a short but violent attack to get my shoulder joint out of its socket.
Amazingly, I went back to the land of nod again!
I think it was 0400hrs when I stirred once more. It took great effort, but I forced myself to dismount the hospital bed, detach it, and empty it .
The urine was the reddest it had been in the last week, scoring a 6 on the NHS scale.

I’d forgotten why I should have gotten up earlier, so I set about collating the contents of all four waste bins into one green one. I took it to the front door and added it to yesterday’s pile, which I had obviously also forgotten about taking to the waste chute. I was not with it, yet!

I went to the wet room to get the medicationalisationgs and ablutionings done.
There are usually calls for the to be used, but not this morning. There were no signs or signals from the innards. So, I got the teggies done. Then started to shave. Four cuts, all tiny ones, twice I dropped a razor, I knocked over the and dropped the can of shaving foam. Removed the plates of meat (feet) from the bowl of water, and had a good body scrub, and a gentler cleaning of the more delicate parts.
I dried off and tackled the areas in need of medicationalising. As is typical, they only caused pain, and I was puzzled that there was no need for them to be utilised. I did the other four areas and got the olive oil in the ears for the last task. No shower was taken this morning, but I did make an effort on the Porcelain Throne—a great effort. I had a go on the crossword book, but I had no success with that or encouraging the concrete torpedo to exit. It’ll come when it’s ready.

I veered of track, not that I knew what the track was anyway, and before getting dressed, I went to look at the prescriptions, which would last me until the next delivery. I was none the wiser after fifteen minutes of Arithmaphobia-driven struggling. It is very embarrassing to have this problem.

Finally, I got to the computer and adjusted the clock calendar on the desk. I then started on finishing yesterday’s blog and posted it off to WP.

The caregiver, Same, came at about 0830 hrs. She sorted the medications and put on my diabetic socks. She said that the warfarin tablets should last me until the next delivery.

I went on email and one from the Catheter deliverer. It is coming today. Unfortunately, I may have to leave the blog tomorrow to see if I can do a cartoon and ode. Because I’ve a mammoth job on Friday. I must find and sort the different catheter supplies and store them separately but in the same room. This is going to be a most-of-the-day job for me. I need lots of breaks, the Seizures, back pain, Brenda, Anne Gyna, and Gladis Glaucoma to be kind to me.  
Ah, that’s why I wanted to get up early, in case they were delivered early and I could make a start on them... But they weren’t, so that’s that!

The Catheter contraptions box was delivered.
A big job for me to sort out tomorrow.

Getting dark already.
Took these shots from the kitchen window.

Getting on now. I’ll make a ready meal, methinks.

I added a can of cheap chilli to a ready-made chilli con carne meal. Bread and a lemon cake to boot!

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May I wish everyone a Great Day!
Not Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer. Oh, na!
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SUGAR! I’ve missed some photos! I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog. Danged Cognitive Impairment Iris!

Inchy: Wednesday 26th February 2025

/ Inchie / 11 Comments

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GC blondeTHE ATTRACTION
6’5”, beautiful blonde Sophie,
She moved so beautifully…
Glanced my way, & smiled demurely…
Her lip went moist & curly,
She turned, her heaving breasts my way,
I recall thinking… Whay-Hey-Hey!
Her curvy bottom wriggled cajolingly…
Thick thighs, dress shorter than a mini,
Hands-on her hips, audaciously…
As she neared, her scent oozed congeniality,
I smiled back at her welcomingly…
I stood up to greet her amorously…
But she walked straight past me…
Glancing at me admonishingly,
I should have seen the alterity…
I was out of my comfort zone territory,
I turned; she was snogging with Terry…
That night ended ego-bruisingly!
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A GOOD START TO THE WEEK!
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04:55hrs: I returned to the land of the pretend living. Again, knowing I’d been dreaming, I had no recollection of what it was about. 
The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed with no bother, and I emptied it and bagged it in the recycle bag. It was a good colour again this morning, and the bag was fuller.

The sky had a green tinge to it. Anne Gyna was giving a few stabs of pain, but not overly so. I had a mini-seizure while emptying all the bin bags into one. Physically, I felt better than I had done for ages.

I washed my socks and a towel, which my Carer Chris had taken off last night. I hung them on the electric airer in the hallway. Then the call to the Porcelain Throne arrived, so I hobbled into the wet room. This evacuation was the second one of its kind in two days.
Only a little bit messy and had made a draw of their daily battle to rule the roost, as if to put it. Hehe!

The electric-shocking ankle ulcer was still looking better than last week. I decided to update yesterday’s blog before doing the ablutions and medications. Why? I think the prescriptions might be arriving today, and they can come at any time of day. I’ve had them delivered at 2100 hrs once. At least I am getting them delivered; that’s a bonus—provided they arrive, that is, naturally. I must check the stocks in a while. The Doctor’s telephone appointment today is between 1000hrs and 1400hrs. And the eyes being so bad as every day goes on means the missed shower and shave will have to wait until the morning. Do I have anyone phoning or delivering in the morning? Maybe the catheters will be delivered? If I enter the wet room, I can’t hear the telephone, intercom or doorbell. I’ll do my best to get up early to get the ablutions and medicationalisationings done.
Every day, a new challenge or frustration can only bring on Dark, Dank, Depressing Duncan!

I returned to the ‘Steptoe & Son room copy, and it was without a mug of tea!
!
As I sat on the computer chair, a pain came from poor Little Inchie! I found the problem. The catheter pouch was already filled and ready to burst, and the weight pulled it down as I sat down. I emptied it into the measuring jug, and nearly 1800ml of urine had passed!
In just over two hours!
Two hours later, I’d passed 1500ml! And I’d not been drinking heavily, less than a litre of soda water, that’s all. Well? When I turned on the computer, I soon realised why I had completed the templates so quickly last night.
I’d got the dates wrong on so many of them. What an Idiot! After a few curse words, self-insults, and grinding of my already half-broken teeth… I wanted to cry! This arithmaphobia is getting worse. I swear it is! Yet on words, apart from spelling and selecting the optimum one, I assume it is due to insufficient memory (like the computer) or Cognitive Impairment Iris. 
I’m losing the battle.


After Carer Kimberly did the financials, I felt sorry for myself. Chloe called the chemist to confirm that the medications would be delivered. The order is due today. 

I got an email from Vynne telling me they have my order and will let me know when it is coming. I assumed it would be some Catheter Bags, but I don’t know. With ailment number 11 , there’s no telling.

The electric shocks up the right leg have been sparse up until now. The ulcer is looking even better than it did yesterday this afternoon. The INR DVT Warfarin nurse arrived, and I explained about the seizures and running out of tablets. Lansoprazole.

I made a food order for next Tuesday from Ocado. 

I was not doing very well with this blog. So many side distractions today.

The intercom buzzed, and it was the chemist delivering the prescriptions. I emptied the bags, trying to sort them out and check for supplies that would last a month. I fear not, but then again, with my Arithmaphobia, maybe they might? What I ordered and what they sent were well off on some medications. Warfarin is only one pack of 28, and the dosage is 1½ and one on different days. Codeines, Peptac and Phorpain Gel they sent two? 
I will go through it the same way next month and get myself in another pickle. Luckily, the Lazoprazole shortage is over, but they are two daily, and only 28 tablets were sent for the month. The Carere gave me two tonight. I lost ages trying to sort out the effect that the shortages would have on me. I’m none the wiser now.
Pareidoliaing this snap of the clouds, I found several pictures within it. Can anyone else see what I did that was hidden in the clouds?

Around 16:15hrs, the landline chirruped. I could barely make out who it was. It was my Doctor Vinla; I’d forgotten all about her calling. As anticipated, I had to keep asking her to repeat what she said; I got the feeling that this made me as popular as a ‘Fart in a Spacesuit’ with the Doctor. I mentioned the seizures and dizziness when the metallic taste comes up from my stomach and the alternative opposite moods, from happy to depressed, changing so frequently. Unprepared for her call, Anne Gyna had a go at me at the time, so I scribbled down what she advised me of.
It seemed the DVT nurse, bless her, had a word with her about my situation; that’s why she was late calling me, mayhap? Matron Jackie will be asked to call and clarify my situation. I thanked her, and that was that. I totally forgot to mention the prescription shortages. 
And I think I’m getting a bit whiffy!

Then I discovered that Match of Day highlights were on at 10:30 tonight, and Forest was involved. What are my chances of me staying awake long enough to see it?

Must get something to eat.

While washing the pots, I spotted the moon high in the sky and thought I’d photograph it.
Got the wobbles, lousy effort!
This one was no better.
I gave up!

I tried to determine if the medications would last until the next delivery. But Arithmaphia Anita was not in the mood to help me.

Eventually, I settled into 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. And I stayed awake for the football programme!
Well, half of the first match!

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Eigðu góðan dag – Have A Good Day
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Inchy: Tuesday 25th February 2025

/ Inchie / 14 Comments

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Doing the right thing can leave you unrewarded,
Helping, sometimes, often, goes unrecorded,
But does it stop you from acting antideluvially?
To you, you’re just acting humanly,
Not wanting to be praised or highly regarded,
Without wishes to be refunded,
That would offend your gigmanity,
Like me, to defend your anonymity
Lest your generousness is noticed by Starmer,
He may sense he can get a backhander!
Especially if you’re a farmer or pensioner!
Your pension may get cut or rescinded,
You may get financially wounded,
By HMG’s mobsters and felonry…
Starmer so disgusts me!
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– – Deliberate spelling mistake – –
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A busy enough day without my forgetting that the water was being turned off for a few hours while the maintenance team was working on a repair or adjustment for a few hours.
Which meant more confusion for my addled-seizure-prone brain. Someone was here while I had a non-epileptic seizure again. Getting embarrassed at these incidents.
A flash blog today.
If possible, I must complete the much-belated ablutions, and time is getting late and short. First, I have to see if the water is back on.
Ah, well, I’ll do what I can from the notes and photos taken.
Tomorrow is going to be busy as well. Thursday could be the humdinger if the doctor decides I need to go in for help and assistance. What am I saying? Haha!
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You may ask why my urine is in the day bag jug?
Or, of course, you may not… I’ll tell yer. Last night, I fell asleep before putting the night bag on. The day bag was nearly bursting when I woke up at 03:30 hrs. It pulled as I stood up, not realising I had not put on the three times more oversized night bag, and… well… 
ARGH!
I naturally have a pain-resistance level far above others. Being the young, fit, athletic type of person that I am, I merely laughed off the entire incident.  I smiled as I wiped away the blood running out from down my leg and foot and sang a song to myself as I cleaned up the carpet.  

I visited the wet room and got settled on the Porcelain Throne.
A Fantastic Session!
For the first time in weeks, neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad controlled; the extremes did not rule the roost! Trotsky had an advantage, though, but not too much mess. And coming out to the kitchen, I was Anne Gyna pains-free!

I got Kodak Tim 2 and took a couple of photographs of the early morning view on offer. The top one is to the right, left one to the left. Maybe it was not my best effort, but that didn’t matter then. I decided to get the kettle on to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea and then get on with updating yesterday’s blog; it was nice and early yet, so I assumed catching up and posting the blog should be easier than usual, and I could get on with this blog sooner than normal. Well, getting the update completed went pretty smoothly. It took a few hours. I posted it and decided to get the ablutions and medications done…
Then I remembered the situation of no water on tap.
I’ll have to do it this afternoon or night. There is no way I will boil water and carry it to the wet room to enable me to get a shave. The last time I had to do that, it resulted in some injuries and a right mess to clean up.
So, I wet some clothes in the sink from the kettle with Dettol and dabbed myself a bit with it. Hahaha!

I cleaned the kitchen window in cold water and warmed it with water from the kettle and spirit vinegar.

Carer Chloe arrived for the first call. Medicines were issued, and diabetic socks were put on. While doing this, I realised the catheter day bag was getting filled, so I emptied it into the jug. While talking to Chloe, as she stood up to check the taps, she pointed out that the day bag was leaking! And I thought things were getting better! What a fool!
I had not shut the release valve. Now, I had to clean the freshly put-on socks and the carpet again, which cost me a lot of time.

The landline chirruped. The DVT Warfarin INR blood nurse advised me she would come in the morning between 10 and 1100 hrs to take the blood. I’m not sure I’ll have much available after Little Inchy’s tube-tugging session earlier. Hehe! I put it on the Google Calendar to be safe.

Carer Chloe arrived to do the domestics, which she couldn’t do without water. She helped check some Emails for me and did the hoovering.

I was not in good condition as it was, but the seizure kicked off again, and my concentration was terrible.

The Iceland Delivery Arrived
There seemed to be a lot of bags. Then I realised I’d bought many Cheeze-It wafers, like… Nine Bags! Guilt!
They do taste delicious, though!
Does the fridge still have room in it?
I topped up the Carers & Nurses treat boxes.
I love the mini Toffee Crisp bars. Just enough for me.

Carer Sam came. We had a little natter.

I, at last, made a start on this blog.
Then I realised I’d still have the templates for March to do!
So be it. Last month, I completed them in less than three hours. I’ll aim to complete them within the same time. Here I go, with a start time of 17:00 hrs.

I’ve Done Them!
By 1855hrs! Honestly!

Varer Chris arrived while I was on the templates.
Medications given.

Now, my plan is to get something to eat!
Nordic Bacon (lots of it), roasted onions, cheese cracker biscuits and cheezies, cheese-topped rolls with Marmite.
I ate about half of it. Just made too much of it. Tsk!

Carer Chris called, returning the laundry bag. We had a little laugh & natter as he took the socks off for me.

Washed the pots and got down in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. To watch some TV documentaries. Zzzz!

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Catch you later, Pip-Pip
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Inchy: Monday 24th February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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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!
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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.
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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.
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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!
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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!
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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!
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– – CRACKING START TODAY! – –
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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.
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Sprinkling of rain.

Another sprinkling of rain.

Afternoon.

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! pillock 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)

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Inchy: Sunday 23rd February 2025

/ Inchie / 6 Comments

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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!
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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.

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Tak Care O Yersels!
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