Courtesy of the Conservative Party – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It was one of those horrible fixated-on-word-finding days. I spent far too long on this. The worst thing is the crunch… After eight hours or more metaphorically sweating away at the process, I found out that I’d made a terrible cock-up. The entire file was mixed with the wrong selection, and the new template I’d grafted on at the expense of massing up the yet-to-do list of jobs was useless to me! Self-anger, frustration and demoralisation were my state when it came to getting to sleep.
Naturally, I woke up with a foul metallic taste in my throat and bleary eyes to realise that the wet, warm sensation in the protection pants was blood from my poor . He’s been leaking a long time, I think and continued on and off all day.
Luckily, the agony of peeling away the dried blood beneath the fresh, from the pants padding, the blood spraying onto my clean dressing gown and down my legs… the pain of bending down and getting a visit from when cleaning things up, dropping the Germolene tube and treading on it, any suffering as my left , as I lost my balance, was of no consequence to a pain-bearing hero like me.
At least the urine colour was of a good light shade in the . I’m so glad that the nocturnal pouches have arrived. Less chance of further infection. The morning view (07:00hrs) was, as I expected, after the clocks changing, a lot lighter. Even if I did forget to adjust all the clocks! Carer Marie did them for me.
I made the first of the two-a-day-only permitted mugs of tea. A good, strong one this time, made with my favourite of all, Glengettie tea. I put the last of the small potatoes in the crock-pot and added sea salt and a drop of liquid smoke. Then I limped (the toenail was still hurting from the attack on the Germolene tube). On the matter of health, another ailment all but had me over. as I was stepping over the door runner to get into the balcony to take some photographicalisations. Taking these scattered-about shots. The mudslide at the end of the car park is the first one. Then, a picture of the gravel footpath I used to walk up daily and beautiful trees. How I miss that daily walk. I can’t even get to it nowadays, let alone walk up it!
Got the computer booted up. arrived. Got the medications sorted and checked the taps and cooker for me. Had a mini-natter.
Then, made a start on the word-finding…. It never really stopped for hours and hours… until I realised the cock-up I’d made and the whole kit & caboodle were useless! I think I only stopped for a few visits. All of the exact nature. Not much got on the notepad memory-wise for me to refer to. Tsk!
I took a picture or two of the rain descending through the glass in the balcony windows. I decided not to open the window, of course, that sort of shower I did not need to take. Hehehe! I’m sure there was a pattern to the raindrops in the second photograph? All, no doubt, due to my addiction to pareidoliaising.
arrived with a new gal training. We managed a little nattering and a laugh. I mentioned my problem with my inability to get through to the Audio clinic and the Electricity Meter reading.
At some time or other, I took this shop of Gawd knows what? After a Sherlock Holmesian Mode was adopted, I decided it must be my fingers, knuckle? Arrived. I’d just nodded off in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner. Benjamin issued the medications. I tempted him to some Carer Treats from the Quality Street box.
Being deep into creating what turned out to be the most enormous, most prolonged waste of time at the word selections, I’d not noticed how the rain had continued. See the mudslide photo compared to the morning one higher up, this morning’s view!
Here’s the hidden cat revealed. Well, it was supposed to be. Not only could I not find it in the top photo, but I can’t even see it in this telltale photo! Mmm!
Got the meal finished off and served up. Back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, not-working, incommodious, grotty recliner. Taste-Rating: Erm… err… 4/10.
Summary
The actions, mistakes and confusions of this day have got to me, no doubt about it! The confidence has been shattered, no that it mattered!
