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A bubbling, 600ml emptying of the catheter pouch.
A brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea.
Carer Christopher arrived. Medications were issued, and he fitted the diabetic socks on my legs. He was aghast at the state of the leg ulcers.
So much so that he took these Kodak Tiom shots of the ankles. No wonder I’d had a few extra electric shocks from them overnight. New scabs, spots, etc., and the ankles gave way occasionally over the day. It’s bad enough with 
& 
doing their giving-way moments to have me over.
Late morning dawning.
The drizzle continues. The mud-slide develops.
A box of medical equipment arrived via Vyne. I didn’t know what it was, but I assumed it was the catheter items that 
had been ordered for me.
Hello, the urine’s got a good flow. 400ml.
Over several hours, the rain persisted.
I pressed on with yesterday’s blog update.
I’m frustrated and disheartened by all my usual errors. Talk about working overtime. Grammarly was constantly popping up. I’d put things right, and seconds later, it came up with the same fault and different corrections to choose from.
Still, the urine comes. A smidge darker, and some bits of what I assume were my crumbling prostrate.
Killed by the Finasteride tablets.
Gorgeous evening clouds.
Baked potatoes, tomatoes and red onion. I took this snap of the minimalistic meal. Then, I added some Frazzles to it. I tucked in with more relish than I had been lately. I added sea salt and No butter-butter to the potatoes. Why no meat? You may be asking? That’s because I made 
some sausages in the microwave and forgot about them. Until I found them in the morning. Humph! It could happen to any idiot, but often, it’s me who forgets. I’ve noticed 
this! I see a lot of things, you know. But I tend to forget more things that need remembering, more time than not, or should that be done? Erm? 
I was washing the pots when the sinking sun suddenly appeared. I fetched Kodak Tim and took these red-eye photographs of the beautiful scene. Mother Nature was at her finest. Unfortunately, the glowing sun scene reminded me of Pucking Putin’s threats!
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Hasta la Vista!
Ankles don’t look very good. Excellent sunset shots. Decent looking meal.
Aye, Tim, the ankles are dodgy at the moment. They have started giving way along with both cartilages now. Two walking sticks needed, heck of a job in the shower and when I’m cooking. Burnt two fingers on the oven yesterday, that was due to bad eyesight. Struggling to use the computer as well. Not good. I’ll get a Carer to ring the optician again. Eyes always get worse as each day goes on? Cheers, mate.
Not good. Not good at all. Hang in there.
Och eye, Tim, do me bestest. Cheers!
Trainspotterish – does anyone do that anymore. My dad used to take me to a train stations for spotting, got to see Toton and all before shoving off to Australia – it’s all gone now as you would know.
My Dad worked on the British Railways, Paul. Goods delivering, horse & dray, then moved on to the Scammel & Scarab 3-wheelers and Karrier Bantams 4-wheeler articulated vehicles. He used to take me with him on school holidays, I loved it. Called at Toton Sidings a few times en route. Happy days, they really were despite the police searching so often for Mother. Har,Har!
I asked Mr Google ‘Do people still go trainspotting?’ Result: Train spotting can still be a hobby as long as you find it enjoyable. Now you can watch trains online which makes it easier because you can watch them from home. There are still plenty of people who go to see trains, take pictures of them, even purchase tickets just for tours and rides.’ Of course, nowadays you’d not get the smell and smoke associated.
My Sister and hubby Pete emigrated to Aussie. After a few years they came back for a holiday, and stayed. I never did find out why. Hehe! I think the attraction of seeing Mother in Court facing 68 charges was too much of a temptation?
Cheers, Sir.
Isn’t that amazing, train spotting from home? My grandad (mother’s side) worked all his life as a coach builder with the LMS but he’d long retired when I came along. My father took me trainspotting so that was fun. Out local station was Sutton-in-Ashfield, which is still there, but all modern according to google. What happened to your mum in court?
Just been a murder in Sutton Ashfield, Sir. A 15 year old stabbed a 19 year old to death. Best not weigh on that though.
That occasion was the reading of the 68 charges in court. My Sister, Jane and hubby Pete attended the trial (five days of it). She told me how the gallery had people falling asleep i took that long to read them out. And at the end, they put her on probation and gave her a new flat with 50% of the heating and lighting paid for, and half rent! Proof that she was a fine con-woman. Har-har!
Good grief – fancy coming out on top like that!
I wasn’t surprised. mate. Hehe!
A right villain (though not like the Kray brothers)
We has a gang, who called themselves the Wilford Road Mob. They frequented a pub I worked in, The Locomotion, on Wilford Road, A few hundred yards from where two people were stabbed in a fight, yesterday. The minions would go around asking anyone if they needed help sorting anyone out! I managed to avoid any involvement. All the distant memories are coming back. But can I remember which carer came this morning? No! I had to check their log book to see if anyone came. Hehehe!