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My concentration is degenerating into tabefaction. I was chatting away with Carer Joanne while she got the medications sorted, and I lost what I was talking about in a flash – twice! Then, later, as I was paying a visit to the , nothing moved, no motion, was in full control – absolute control. I sat and waited, counting the cracks in the ceiling (23), had a bash at the crossword puzzle (Got one answer), and as I gave up and stood up, I knocked the olive oil bottle, and it fell straight into the WC! Yes, I think I may have sworn… but not as much as I did two minutes later. Using the picker-upperer to get the Protection Pants back up, I tore them at the seam. I got a fresh pair out of the bag and started to carefully get them on, not easy as it took place mid-way through the procedure. But, no falls, no injuries, no harm. I got the pants in position and sorted the leg bag into position, and I seem to remember thinking to myself, at the time, ‘Well, that went well. ‘Fatal!’ I should have known better with my luck! I turned to leave, and I walked into the bloody doorframe again! Hitting it right where I’d had the Covid jab inserted! I cursed so angrily at myself; there was phlegm coming out of my mouth, and the pain seemed a second consideration; my first one was to curse my luck… several times and with a wide variety of self-vituperation & condemnation-led foul mutterings. Acrimoniousness, blasphemy & self- malignity! I was so angry at myself that I felt guilty and foolish a minute or so later – what if someone had heard me? Oh, dearie me!
No wonder I want someone to adopt me as a grandad!
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A smidge darker this jolly morning.

A jolly mug of Glengettie for me. I pathetically knocked it over in a Shaking Shaun second; Humph!
Made another.

Morning’s first photo.

The scab is breaking up slowly. I think some will be missing by tomorrow morning. I mustn’t pick at it!

As wot I wrote in the prologue.
Fresh leg bag on after ablutioning.

Second external photo.

I’ve been blogging with more mistakes than I could count for three more hours to put things right that I got wrong, I hope!
Carer Shaquille, then Carer Joanne. 

Emptying the Catheter Day Bag.
I swear it was bubbling. Hehe!

Third window shot, beautiful clouds.

AGAIN!

Later on, clouds again.
Plenty of things in these, I see,
A duck, fish and a bee,
And a sun so shiny!

Tore the PPs. As already mentioned above.

Carer Victor. Did his BP, good result.
SYS 110 – DIA 73 -Pulse 93 – TEMP 34.3°c.

More figures in this wonderful photo of the clouds from the kitchenette window.

I got it! But it took me far more than 3 seconds!

It’s late now, very late. I better save the blog, switch off, and get a meal sorted out. I’ll do the catch-up in the morning. Back later! Well, I hope I will. Haha!

Contrails in the sky… or are they?

It was a lovely meal. Lamb and mutton burgers were eaten on thin slices of milk roll bread, dunked in ketchup with pickle. Nice UK tomatoes and crinkle-cut chips! A pot of mandarins in jelly eaten for afters. Nice!

I took this shot of the sky as I washed the pots up, and then I settled down to watch Death Wish 3 on the TV. I managed to stay awake throughout the movie, even during the advertisements. I dozed off as it was finishing. I’d forgotten how far-fetched yet almost amusing this film was. I like it when the goodies win. A fantasy, of course. 

Got in the hospital bed. But sleep was not coming, although I felt tired and drained. After an hour of trying to kip, I got up and fetched a cold drink from the fridge.
Took this early morning photo.
And got back into the bed.
Within a few minutes – Zzz!.

TTFNski, each