11 | January | 2023 | Inchie Today

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

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

Another ran out-of-time-day. Sorry if it is out chronologically,
mistakes-wise or if other errors appear. Mostly been created from photos and what few memory notes I scribbled – the brain seems to have gone on strike! It’s the in thing nowadays!

Took the catheter bag of myself this morning – I had to cause the need of the Porcelain Throne was urgently needed, and with the other clarities etc., over the last two days with tripping and treading on the tubing, I thought it best.
Over the first hour of actioning, my magnificent muscular, fit handsome body from the terrible night’s sleep, I had to use the Throne no less than four times! Every one of them was messy and gooey, with cleaning ups needed.
After the first session, I decided to get the ablutioning done.
Part way through, I was trying to stop the third shaving cut from bleeding at the time; I had to use the Throne again.
Suddenly flooded the mouth, I think I must have broken off a bit of tooth near the gum. I got up automatically to get some toilet paper to use to stem the flow… but the evacuation was still taking place.
I did genuinely feel . Nothing new there, then! It took me ages to clean up again, and I was beginning to get self-irritated!

Back to the front room, now attired in my day clothes but no socks, I’ll ask my mate to help with those. A bit nippy this morning.

After a while of computing, the catheter started itching. The catheter bag’s elastics had dropped down the leg.

However, Richard arrived then. He got the medications sorted and told me I had to take the new Antibiotic course again, starting now. So, I did.
He then told me, as I showed him the calendar… I’d put the Catheter removal on a wrong day, it was today, not tomorrow, so I changed it.

.
I asked him if he’d help me get the specks on, please.
He said it would be best to ask the nurse/s when she/they take off
the catheter to put them on for you. To avoid any hassle while removing it? So I said I would. I’ll get something right today… surely I must?
Gave him some treats in thanks, and Richard checked the taps and stove.
Off he sent on his rounds. Bade him all the best and thanked him.

An hour or so later, when I was busily making cock-ups, and mistakes and forgetting what it was I was going to write after correcting the grammar I’d already written… I think? The was needed again.
But this time, unlike the eleven visits I’d made yesterday, had lost his grip on the process, and from nowhere, unexpectedly, my old friend had taken over command…

I was getting fed up with getting nowhere with the crosswords for ages. Counter the cracks on the ceiling… even had to give up on that. and are getting slowly worse. I picked my nose, whistled, and eventually, a mini-evacuation shot out of its own accord – the movement was over in seconds! annoying somehow.

Ah, a Highlight Event!
.
The beautiful DVT-Warfarin Haematology nurse arrived as I was getting off of the . I thought at first it was the door chime ringing, and rushed to get the trews up, got out of the wet room door (And casually shoulder charged the door frame as I left the room), and realised it was the intercom going (It being lit-up helped me notice it, Hehe!)
Hristina asked me how the hospital visit went as she came in. Now that was lovely of her! ♥ And she listened when I told her, too! Wonderful!

Computing again. I decided this time, I would focus on a venom. I was tenacious in my determination to concentrate on what I was trying to do.
I think I went into a slight . It didn’t last long…

Mistakes, ha! Sometimes I see them as thumbing my nose at the puritans. That phrase I stole from a fellow WordPress blogger & poet named Paul. Thanks, mate! I’ve been waiting for a suitable time to use it. (And remember it!

Visits from, and a nasty, but very rare in a sat down position put an end to my planned venture into pretending I could be capable again.
Instead of acting like a wordsmith and getting on with the blogging, I had to go to the wet room to try and stop bleeding. Yes, the dance had tugged at the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… bloody? Bloody sore at this moment still! Even delicate might be the word. Tsk!

But it turned out lucky that I did go to the wet room.
The catheter pouch was on the point of bursting, I think. Again, I had a job to pull up the trouser leg, so dropped them instead and emptied the bag

I decided to get the potato out of the crock-pot. checked that it was cooked before she checked the taps and turned off the heater for me.

I sliced the overcooked potato and got it in the oven with the last of the potato rostis in the oven to crisp them up. The last of the tomatoes and the vegan frankfurters (which tasted great!) and along with the last of the pots of strawberry jam thingumajig dessert.

Later, not sure what happened between this and the last thing, a touch of , methinks.
I do recall taking these pictures, though. I’m pretty sure I took them in SCN Handheld Nightshot Mode.

Not that they came out very well, although the bottom one of the car park was not too bad. A touch of eeriness about it? Obviously, the first one was taken like that on purpose. Ahem!

Arrived for the late-night call, and I was watching TV.
We had a little natter, and Richard changed the catheter night bag.
We had a minute or two of pleasant nattering away, but the lad was ready for his bed, bless his cotton socks. I went with him, catheter bag in hand, to the door and locked it when Rich had left. They don’t like me doing this, but I can’t get the picture of the yobboes who came into the flat one night. If the key-safe would work for use, it would not be a problem.

Then I got on the computer again, re-determined to get it done.

MYSTERY PHOTO