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A mishmash of mordant mental malignancy was gone through today. Confusion over metastatic prostate cancer; Why am I still taking the Finasteride.
It was originally told me by the specialist at the Haywood Hospital, that they were for a month’s course. Then the
would be removed for 24 hours, to allow me to try manually peeing. Then a bladder scan would be done to see what’s left in it, not passed. If all is well, the Catheter can be removed. If not, the only course left open is for you to have a permanent one fitted.
This has been done three times now. Every time the bladder was found to be 30% full after weeing.
I’d hoped to be told that I’d be going on the waiting list for the operation on the bladder. There would still be a bad to be controlled of course – but the key factor in this cheering me up was that a tube would go into the bladder via the side of the stomach. Hence: My poor battered
and getting cut up and causing so much pain, would hopefully be a memory! But, No! They just replaced the contraption again, and the whole procedure was repeated twice more. Same results not enough passed!
ensured a free run from
ensued today. Deepak-Depression, self-criticising, Fed-Upperedness and I have to admit it… to a certain level of self-pity. Which dissipated I
. It seems to make me aware that I am far better off than many people in the world, country, Nottingham, even Sherwood and in these flats where I dwell, with my topsy-turvey, ever-changing moods.
At the moment, typing this, albeit already Sunday afternoon and I’m miles behind with everything; I’m verging on feeling almost, practically contented!
Of course, it won’t last long, but there you go. Had I not been feeling up, the downers would never have arrived… I think I got that wrong somehow?
I’d better get a move on. My photo comments will be a little shorter than usual (Well, we’ll see how it goes). To save me time. A lot to get done today. A lot to forget, lose and do wrong as well.
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A photo missed off of yesterday’s blog.
07:10hrs: Up late again, needing to appease the demands of the bowels. Much firmer products were evacuated!
Waste dogs sorted out.
Making the first of the two mugs of tea allowed me…
However…
So the tea had gone cold! Tsk!
Fodder arrived…
Unpacked the bags…
Plenty of bread!
Fresh foods.
Disappointed with the bananas! See the black strips underneath the stalks? A sure sign of age and mistreatment. All bar one were bruised, uneatable!
Daily medicationalisationings.
The new dressing gown was delivered, just before
arrived.
Just after I’d taken a photo of the gown. It didn’t come out the colour that it actually was.
took the camera and tried to get a better shot for me.
He held them up while I tried again.
Better, but not right yet…
Not a lad to be beaten, he took it out on the balcony and got this ace shot taken. That’s the colour!
Spent ages on the blog, and nearly forgot about the
emptying. Hehe!
But the flow steadied, and three hours and 2 litres of spring water later, the pouch was nearly empty?
Had to sort through the Asda-Walmart frozen diced potatoes before getting them in the oven.
Took this photo of the getting dark earlier sky as I made the vegetable soup.
Chunky vegetable soup, with plenty of diced, boiled then roasted potatoes. A better job this time. Taste: 8/10.
After dining well, I got the pots all finished washing up.
And I took this snap of the evening view.

Then I dived (not literally of course) into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner. Hope I can get that bed soon from the hospital. I’ll have to beg someone to ring them for me… and hope and pray they can get through this time.
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I dreamt you Won the Lottery…
May the unknown emotions, within, waiting…
To burst forth, with the verifying…
Your coming Lottery win is innervating,
So much, you’ll want it reaffirming!
What’ll you spend it on? I’m just guessing…
A new bathroom for your ablutioning?
Pay for your noisy neighbours assassinating?
Pay off your Auntie to stop her blackmailing?
No need for any more of your burgling!
A holiday in Australia, backpacking?
Go to a health spa, for detoxificating?
Your power bills will be less concerning!
No more fears, or talk about bankrupting!
Or your mental health deteriorating!
Go live somewhere with security gating?
Private Doctors may charge £10 per Aspirin,
Go on, live an idle life that’s high-faulutin’!
Oh, yes, that’s what you have been doing!
Rishi & wife Murty, have been capitalising.
Destroying HMG, the Tories are dying…
But, no need for your sighing...
Positions of power you can be buying?
Purchase a fifteenth home in Pekin?
TTFN