– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sleep was initially no problem last night… Now, staying asleep was a horse of a different colour! I lost count of the times I detonated and burst into wakefulness! Although it was the most prolonged overnight period of skip that I’d had for a long time, I reckon actual sleeping amounted to a couple of hours at most. It was not a good start to the day; again, it worsened.
Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

0545 hrs: I stirred, realising I was not lying in bed (I can be quick sometimes, Hehe!).. It only brought back last night’s farcical, demented, horrible series of calamities and Whoopsiedangleploppery to mind.
I offered up a quick prayer for things to get better today. The plea was not directed at any God, Devil, Witch, Oligarch, Compassionate alien, Sorcerer, Wizard, Soothsayer, or medical practitioner who could help me.

THE WET ROOM FARCE: There was not much hope or effort put into the plead for help, but it was something to do while I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne, awaiting Constipation Conrad to release the first of the morning’s two torpedoes. He fooled me completely this time. The first grindingly slow concrete submarine edged its way painfully out and plonked, with a clunk, into the WC waters. Relief flooded over me! A smile was almost coming over my face in thanks for completing the task at last and me getting rid of the associated pains!
However, a second missile assault developed that almost shot itself out of my rear end. It was quick, but I wasn’t prepared for the extra shot of pain it brought on. Tears developed. True!
When I saw the blood everywhere, I grabbed onto  and I stood up. It was almost a major operation getting everything cleaned up and medicated! Both cartilages, the ankle ulcer and even Arthur Itis, kicked off simultaneously.
This made me nervous. I was in the wet room, so I decided to get the ablutions done immediately. One cut shaving, no shower, and teggies were done. Next, medicating various parts was needed, which went reasonably well. Even the shaving cut was soon stopped.
Then, the real challenge: getting into the Protection pants!
It was easier to lift my right foot through the leg hole. It hurt, but I laughed it off, knowing the left one would be the most painful. I was right, too. But I didn’t think I was going to take a tumble. I was wrong on that, too! I tried resting the bum in the corner behind the door. This usually helps. (I was wrong about it this time), I used Picker-Upperer-Petal to move the PPs out so I could lift the left foot with the right hand to get it in the pants left hole… are you following this? Hehe!
During this, I noticed that the urine flowing from the Bladder to the Pouch looked awfully red. That was my mistake, taking my mind off of the challenge. I can’t explain how I managed to take the tumble, landing against the shower chair. I limped to the recliner on all fours, making the ulcer leak more and hurting the ingrowing toenails and cartilage. Chloe and Carole protested the only way they knew how to… giving me such pain that only agony would fit it.
Getting back on my feet was probably more painful than all the other incidents. Yes, it was!
I painfully put on the dressing gown and slippers. I was pondering whether I should have a brew of tea or not when ‘Oh Susan’ chimed from the door chime.
Carer Richard arrived. He didn’t particularly like the state of  Leg-Ulcer-Ulrich or the red and, as he put it, under the man- breasts. Hahaha! He told me not to wear a dressing gown, so I wore a tee shirt. It’s not the prettiest view for anyone calling on me. Bearing the catheter’s paraphernalia. He asked if I had any pyjama bottoms to put on. I was surprised he’d forgotten I can’t get trousers, socks or shoes on or off without help nowadays. He left a note on the whiteboard for someone to call the Doctor and District Nurses about the ulcer and ankle blotches later.

came with a new Carer, Sash, I think her name was. No, it was Sham. Kara was training up the new gal. She checked the catheter and called the Doctors about the red patches underarm and, as Richard said, Men-Boobs. Hahaha! She said I am to keep on with the Terbinafine cream for the arms and titties. Then she looked at the leg swelling, ulcers, and new growths. Then she called the District Nurse’s place. They will be sending a Community Nurse to look at them later on. 

A few PN electric shocks joined the ulcers and swellings, bothering me.
It’s an excellent job that the Cartilages have both calmed down somewhat. I may well regret saying that, of course.

Carer Christopher arrived. He gave me some Peptac and a painkiller and looked at the state of the legs with the dressing now on the ulcer. And got carried away with Kodak Timing them all.

Chris noted that new growth was coming up in the left leg.

Then, that the padded plaster was not sealed and was leaking fluids. He soon put that right for me as well. I think he just enjoyed giving me pain, Hehe! 

Were increasing in frequency now.
Chris put some ointment on the Man-Breasts and underneath each of my arms. He’s a good lad! And he likes his treats, too. I gave him his choice of a cold drinkie from the fridge, and his pockets secured some nibbles.

I’d better get some food sorted before the England match on TV. I’ll be back later, probably in the morning.

Good Morning! I got it wrong again. The England match is tomorrow (tonight). But no! A double cock-up from Inchie! I got the dates wrong again. And the Doctor told me my getting Arithmaphobia is not the end of the world! England’s match was on, and apart from not realising it, I also slept through and missed the other matches! Grumph! Grump! Gragnagles!

MEAL COCK-UP! I thought I ought to have some of the Air Fry crinkle chips I ordered in error months ago to make room in the freezer. So I did. I threw the rest of them away afterwards. Amazingly, some tasted okay, and others were too hard to cope with my lack of teeth. 
Then it dawned on me… I’d cooked them in the oven! It could happen to anyone, of course. But the odds of it being me must be very short!

I took this evening’s view, complete with blotches. Slightly miffed with myself.

I nodded off into sweet, Thought-Storming-free, precious oblivion. Although  were not letting up, particularly the right ankle with the burst ulcer on it, Carer Chris did the last call. Chris seemed keen to get home, bless him, and not to disturb me too much. So he sorted me out in the darkness and put some tape on the wadding on the ulcer that had already come off and leaked the fluid all over my foot during the kip.

I found it in two seconds!

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFNski, Folks!