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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
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TIP: Seasonal
.
(A caring gal), was eventually recognised as the fizzled brain tried to get into gear. It was hard work, confusing and annoying to me cause I knew I was waffling about the leg straps and diabetic socks but could not get a hold of things. 
Storm Babet was settled in for the majority of the day. A run of nine hours of rain. As a record of this, I took photos of the end car park mudslide throughout the day as it gradually grew gruesomely!
Tried to take a close-up through the window.
Then, opposite the flats.
It’s flowing down now.
Tried a closer shot with the window open.
Then, an even closer one.
Muddier water now…
Still growing slowly.
Another close-up.
The top white car had escaped.
It’s at its peak here!
Ablutionings.
Mug of Glengettie.
Poor gal got soaked in the rain, and her feet and socks soaked through. Luckily, I have several pairs of new, unworn socks from back in the day when they fitted, and I could use 
. And we went in to pick a pair so she could have dry tootsies on for the rest of her rounds. Lovely gal. 
It was never easy to manipulate by getting worse legs into the darned thing. Every time, I ended up with bruises, bleeding or blood nips. Many Tumbles as well. But nowadays, she lurks in the spare room, and I feel a hatred (well, fear) for her each time I go into the room. I swear the green-coloured, plastic-covered metal implement of torture still laughs as I go by! 
As indeed, the other five visits of the day were!
The plastic pouring cones arrived. I refilled a dropper bottle with Olive Oil. And to think they came from Taiwan within three days of ordering! 
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Stayed up trying to catch up with the blogging, until around 05:00hrs this morning, 3 hours kip, including two failed trips to the Porcelain Throne.
It was the same on the third visit later – but this time I was back in the wet room within ten minutes, and;
Gooey, sticky messy!
It looked like the infection was coming back, judging by the dark brownish colour in the day bag.
will cost, and of course, if they could help me, in clearing the bedroom out, so I could let Sarah at the Falls & Rehabilitation, to tell her 
when it is done (if), and she could order the bed for me.
more soon. Especially with the urine being so dark. 
As is my mode of luck, failure and frustrationalisationings, the lad tried ringing them and could not get through to them; they were too busy. He tried again later, and I think they told him he was 11th in the queue waiting! He said he’d try again later and would let me know. I’ve heard nothing.
While taking a zoomed-in shot of the mudslide at the end car park, leaning out of the balcony window a smidgeon, poor, battered about by the tubing sticking in him for what must be over a year now, 
was giving me some aggro and started bleeding fairly badly. Argh! That’ll teach me to bend and stretch!
I was in & out of control of things for at least five hours. Was just beginning to feel that I was regaining what was going on around me, and evening 
a little when
arrived.
him two letters that’d been delivered.
brought a semi-panic about how I can arrange a lift to get there, I’ve no 
to help me for two weeks; she’s off on holiday. I felt a right twollop when it dawned on me that the four-page appointment & instructions letter, was from the EENT. It was something about post-cataract operation procedures. No idea what it involves. For the 1st December, 10:45hrs. So, need to arrange to book a lift with NHS City Transport
So after Ben left, I rewrote the whiteboard reminder. I didn’t realise I had so many things that needed doing, Covid jab, lift to arrange. Audio Clinic three appointments outstanding
is causing. Tiny bits of raw flesh coming off of now!
, 
, 
, 
, the new 
, 
, and now 
which apparently is a parasitic disease caused by blood flukes (trematode worms). 
on the left foot, and the 
on the right foot! Or the 
, or both legs having 
, 
, or 
, 
, 
and his unwelcome 
, along with other ailments, disabling my physical capabilities. Then of course there is 
Not too bad at all!
Yummy!
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Decent colour in the nocturnal pouch!
Lighter this morning… No, it’s not, I got up late!
My right leg looked a little battered?
Waste bags sorted.
Got the new drinkie in the cupboard for the nurses and carers to pick from. Keeping a list of those given out this year. I missed someone out last year. Tsk!
Well, that was unexpected.
Lunchtime treat.
A repeat evacuation for the first time in months.
The being-done-up for six months home has a ladder moved. Mayhap the builders have returned?
Gotten Himmel, changed again.
I got the colly wobbles?
I tried a close-up shot.
Ahem!
Midnight bag sorting again.
03:00hrs: Good Heavens – Again!
Well-Done…
Who also own or have shares in many other Internet providers throughout the world:
A fine-looking feast was prepared.
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Woke late, nearly 07:00hrs: Mind you I didn’t get my head down until about 04:00hrs, I stayed up all night to get caught up with the blogging. Got the pouch emptied and changed, and needed (I thought) to go to the wet room to visit the Throne. I was wrong!
Only one long blast of wind!
arrived as I was cleaning the blood from 
and poor battered about 
… I spoke with her through the open door. She kindly asked if I needed any help. 
Today, I had to have another strap put on the right leg.
which looked like this.
She put some pads on the wounds, before putting on the diabetic decompression sock, and then…
After both straps and socked legs were done…
and now having chicken legs, t
A Photo of the Asda bits here, I forgot.
I selected three potatoes, to use later to use making some cheesy baked spuds.
I’d got the spuds from the oven, making a right mess dropping bits of potato all over the floor and treading on them, while scraping the flash out of the husks, into the basin with the cheese in it. Bashed them about and mixed it all up. I added sea salt and no-butter butter as I did my best to blend the mixture together.
Back in the oven to crisp up for an hour, and had another feast to eat! After that, I settled down with my legs and feet up on the Carers chair. 
After he’d gone, I realised that the pads had been leaking. No bother; they soon stopped.
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Although it was a good start to the day, albeit later than usual. Excellent coloured urine in the night bag to greet me. Much better!
The two great-unwashed feet. 
I made a mess of the first-morning view photograph taking.
this one of the kitchenette windows with the ledge reminiscent of Steptoe & Son’s from the 1970s television comedy. The white bit on the window is not the moon; it is a reflection of my 
.
arrived. He looked tired out, bless him.
Afterwards, I actually got the slippers on both feet! This is a 
I put the waste into one bag and put it near the front door in the hallway… which was a good idea cause I don’t have a back door. Hahaha! 
I snapped this
Back on the computer.
Used Cutaneous Only! So I looked this up on Mr Google. “
I’m miles behind with the blogging again. But I saw and had to photograph this evening shot from the kitchen window. Some eerie patterning from hours ago still showed high in the sky.
I got a simple meal prepared, some a simple man, me.
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strapping over the compression sock, and on 
Straps and diabetic socks on the left…
.
Views from the balcony.
The Tree Copse, can no longer visit, sadly.
The mud-slide dwindling.
Straight ahead. Gloom!
But in the afternoon…
The cloudless sky did look wonderful.
Sorting out the dodgy Asda potatoes.
Then I cheered exponentially 
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… well, 
failing that caused the heavily bandaged leg to clunk onto the floor. 
, followed by a few quietly emitted oaths and curses, as I hit my 
against the leg stanchion on the chair. 
Germolene from the ottoman, rubbed some in the left knee, and rubbed it in well for a while. The knee was a little larger than when I got my head down last night after 
doing the same thing, rubbing in the ointment. Took off the 
, and grabbed 
, to take this photo of the colouring. Which was not too bad at all.
I gently raised my elephantine body up on its dodgy knees, leg ulcers, 
the wooden walking stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to get the kettle on. Where I took these three-morning view photographs – Gawd! They came out worse than yesterday’s were? What’s the opposite of smug-mode-engaged? I’ve just looked up an antonym… and made a tab to use; 
!
Yet another photo that I either can’t remember taking or, took without realising that I’d taken it.
Eventually, I got the first of the two permitted brews of tea made. Thompson’s Punjana this time.
Sorted out the waste bags, and got them into one large one.
Took it to the front door to be collected by the Carer at a later time.
Then got the daily doses, dosed, and the ointments, cream applications, and medications tackled. Ear drops, eye drops, and eye-cleaning sorted.
Washed the Jenny-Donated mugs ready for the second brew, possibly Glengettie in the afternoon/evening.
Off to the wet room for the first 
 duties.
man told her the bag was to be changed every month. This left me feeling confused. I felt sure that Kara checked every week to check and see if the day-pouch had been changed? convinced me that I’d got it wrong again. I apologised to 
Galore on the blogging, so I gave it up and did some sorting in the spare room. No lifting or bending, though, as per the instructions and recommendations from Sarah of the Falls & Rehabilitations Team. More bags to go. Back to the mistake ridden-ever correcting the blogging.
. Another nice gal. We managed a little natter, leg-pulling and laugh. During which I explained my earlier 
was changed every week… And she said I was right! Â 
case. Then, a month trial on Finasteride tablets to try and reduce the size of the prostate as a last gasp-chance, and if this does not work, a permanent catheter will have to be fitted. The month trial turned into a 6-month trial; no passing, but still on the Finasteride even now! No signs of any permanent catheter being fitted either. This seemed a logical conclusion to me, and Joanne. We both wondered if they were waiting for me to snuff it. Save them the expensive operation? Won’t keep them long. Hahaha!
I selected the lesser bruised potatoes and put them in the oven tray for baking later. It turned out to be ten hours later as it happened. Tsk!
A snack, a treat, was the next thing I made. Two mini butter croissants, with some naughty lemon curd in a side dish for dipping them into, and the final mug of Glengettie for the day.
As I took this snap of the beautiful sky…
I thought of Mother Nature, and far beyond the sky…
What a fantastic, beautiful display of clouds in the sky this afternoon.
The blogging was not very productive now. Feeling tired and weary. Thus, even more cock-ups and mistakes were being made as I pressed on regardless. I cheated on my two mugs of tea a day… and made a third one. Naughty? Yes! In mitigation, it was not intentional then, as 
Nightie-Night Sunshine!
Made a start emptying the potato husks into the mixing bowl, with some delightful Leicester Cheese to taste. 
droppages or spillages. Flesh back in the halved husks, with sea salt and not butter, butter. Forked the tops to aid with crisping while cooking. And into the oven on 220° 
heat, and back to close the computer down. Then, I got the dirty pots I’d made washed with my not-so-secret method: I’d put the dishes in the bowl, 
washing up liquid added, and as the hot water filled the bowl, most of the bits of burnt cheese floated up and out of the bowl into the sink! A tip here: if you try this, make sure you run plenty of cold water around any metal bits in the sink cause it stains it rotten! 
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– – – Thanks to each one! – – –
Found a clue… of which I before knew,
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What a slog of a day. 
04:45hrs: Great colour this morning. I felt tired out still, and had to encourage myself to escape the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, itchy, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of catheter-tube-trapping, recliner. Caught my balance, and began to revert to my usual morning state of confusion and more confusion.
Ablutions and the first of the four visits to the Throne.
I spent several minutes counting the cracks on the ceiling, and then I got the crossword book and spent ages on them. Not that I got many answers in, but enjoyed it all the same. 
The legs are getting fatter at the top, and the left is thinner at the bottom. 
is getting uncomfortable and causing lesions on the skin? With 
Waste bags were collated. And left in the hallway close to the front door for collection by the kind carer. At this stage, I had a little bother when suddenly 
I took this with the window open from inside the balcony, at the right end, facing North, towards Daybrook, Arnold and eventually Mansfield. The rain was coming, and the mudslide growing.
Then some 
This may have been a mistakenly taken picture?
The last view of my leg’s condition was before the District Nurse arrived minutes later. bless her cotton socks, to sort me out with new paraphernalia straps & bandages!. 
A new black wind-on compression sock.
she’d take a photo of it, for me to use on the blog.
reduced the fluid.
This will need changing every so often and washing.
Carers will not be able to 
played dead for a few seconds… this time she got me – Crunched down on the hard floor, but the 
Utilising 
Got some nosh done. Potato Cakes, the last of the sweet Jenny-donated tomatoes, and some pickled beetroots
Hobbled into the kitchen to get the washing up done.
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Easy-Peasy! Well…
Eerie morning view of the kitchen from the doorway.
Made up a waste bag. (Exciting this innit? Hehe!)
. But were different in about everything. Texture, pong etc…
.
A good variety today?
Toes & legs improvement… well 
arrived, I’d been on the computer for about an hour and had just suffered…
.
, and took his Health Checks.
I had to give the leg a rest up on the chair. So, I got 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, to get some respite from the 
as I got up to retrieve it, and the jam squirted out, over my slipper and the carpet. Not the most successful mealtime I’ve had!
As I took this photo of my feet and legs, I got a whiff of urine strongly? On investigation, I realised that the open-close valve on the day bag was indeed in the open position again! The left foot squelched as I took a step!
With all the hobbling I’d done, 
, I got the fresh ones on with almost ease. Great! for a second…
You can laugh at this series of 
, and farcicalness, from when I was washing up the pots?