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I woke, surprised at how light it was, and gave consideration to the vague idea of getting up, mused for a moment… decided I was still too tired and swiftly nodded off again,
I have no idea when I first woke up, but this second one was distinctively individual. I was rudely awoken as my body was falling out of the bed!
Then the ‘thud’ as my knees hit the floor and the pain from the nocturnal pouch tube pulled at Little Inchie. I hauled myself back up to find that Cartilage in Chloe’s left knee had swollen immediately. But I was concerned about knowing how the heck that happened. How? What was I doing, having a dream? Had Peripheral Neuropathy Pete had a leg dance? Or had Shaking Shaun been involved?
When I started to hobble about to take the nocturnal pouch to be emptied, Lost-Balance-Barbara nearly had me over and 
painfully gave way frequently. The urine colour was bloodied, but that was no surprise with the morning’s
-tumble.

I was still juggling things to get a less painful seating position on the WC when the almost liquidised evacuation started flowing. Even that hurt, but it was short-lived. I can’t say the same about cleaning things up after the torrent from
. I decided to get the ablutions & medicationings done.
I hadn’t realised how late it was that I’d risen from the pleasure of peaceful sleep. I was having problems shaving the back of my neck again, as
sounded from the door chime, and in came Carer Christopher. Knocked on the wet room door, asking if I was alright. He came in and shaved just the back of my neck for me as I began relating the morning’s farcical beginning to him. He wasn’t pleased with my wobbling and imbalance, the swollen leg or the colour of the urine, but I explained I thought they were all probably due to the tumble. Because I was about to shave and shower, I could not have the new pouch bag or the diabetic socks on. Chris said he would not give me the medications yet and would give me an hour or so to get the showering done, then he would return to do the medicating, socks, and catheter pouch fitting.
That was kind of him; off he went, and I returned to the wet room to finish off the shaving. A few tiny nicks, but only tiny ones. Then, the showering… Although the procedure was
painful with the swelling
and when I got around to the rear-end
cleaning, Boy, was it painful? Yes, it was. Hehehe! But with my pain tolerance level being so high, I wasn’t bothered about the knees, haemorrhoids, catheter tube pulling on Little Inchie, or the toe I’d just stubbed in the
slightest. ![]()
I was coughing and sneezing by the time I’d finished the medicating and ablutions.
I made the waste bags into one and took them to the front door.
Christopher returned. He got my socks on for me because he realised it must have been nippy without any on. I issued the medications and then put a washed
catheter pouch cover on it for me.
On his way out, he took the laundry down for me, taking his choice of drinkies and Lamb Patti from the fridge.
I spent hours and hours on the blog update, all the time sensing the gurgling and rumblings from the innards.
I took a diarrhoea capsule in hopes of avoiding another of the infamous
evacuations again.
It cost me, losing half a day.
When I came back to semi-reality, I knew a Carer had been. A
, and I checke
d on the Carers log. Joanne had been, and Christopher too. Someone came on the third call because the washing had been returned. I usually have a natter and laugh with Joanne, I can’t recall either of these episodes. Vague is the word.
I checked the camera’s SD card. I’d have expected to remember taking these two beautiful shots. But I’m afraid I can’t. I think I took them from the kitchenette window.
Wonderful peace-emitting clouds out there.
I felt the pangs of hunger, so I investigated what to eat.
I emptied the day pouch from Cathy’s Catheter and was pleased to see it was a little lighter. I did not mean the pouch; I meant the urine that was emptying. Not a bit mixed here!
Potato Rostis and a lamb cutlet were sprayed with oil and put into the oven. When they were out of the oven, I dabbed some Germolene on the hand I burned while doing so, and then the food was plated.
I added some tomatoes and some sugar snap peas.
A few rounds of Milk Roll bread and got stuck into it. This I do remember!
The lamb was fatty—too much so for me—but the rest of the plate was fine and tasty!
I took this shot of the night sky from the kitchen window as the sun was setting.
And went to turn off the computer in the junk/bed/living room. Haha!
I found them, but not in 12 seconds. It was the wave one that had me fooled for so long. No surprise, a lot of things got and got me confused: Women, Pucking Putin, computers, Football Referees’ Decisions, Oligarchs,
,
,
,
,
,
,
, and perhaps the most confusing is the decisions arrived at by the
Parole Boards to free convicted killers to murder again!
They instil in me a hatred comparable to my loathing for Putin!
I’m so glad I got that out of the way!
Cheerio, Folks!
Always nice to get some extra sleep. Decent looking meal.
Not up to much, the cartilage is giving what-for after the tumble,
I’ve been missing Cyril these last two days. Him on my chest purring away, with the odd nose nuzzle, and he seemed to listen to me telling my troubles. Hahaha!
Cheers mate.
In regard to the ode, It always makes me wonder as we age and decline in health – we’d be better off in prison. In regard to the two dogs incident here they’d be automatically destroyed on the video evidence and the owners charged.
I smiled to myself (and I needed one desperately, thanks) when I read better off on Prison. But you are so right, Paul!
So many people killed by those breeds this year, owners as well. I can’t believe the lady attacked has not heard anything from the police. They leave dangerous dogs roaming around, free murderers to kill again, worra place to live, and 1.7 million have moved here in the last year! As you may have gathered, I am in a feeling sorry for myself mood. Hehehe!
Cheers.
I think many of us are grieving the degradation.
It’s not going well, is it mate? The worlds in degradation, I’ve got Constipation, and I’ve just been booked for another operation. Thank heavens for your words of entertainment!
Not going well at all, much speculation about conflict escalation as the west lurches to the right.
Oh, dearie me.
My late father (who, ironically was always on time) was a prisons dept officer and he noted that the inmates were quite well off compared to his working poverty.
So true, Paul. It’s a ll out of sync, wrong!
Absolutely so Gerald, I often feel like I’ve lived through the best years.
Despite the family problems, I agree with you, Paul. Life was so much easier, less aggravation back then.
I still think of the fortune teller and me living to see the end of the world – utter rubbish I thought at the time… but now… Haha!