Incompetent Inchy: Thurs 18 July 24 – Cancer Forecast

Jolly Good Morninski!

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Today’s main contestants in life’s pain and bother battle have been Nicodemus’s Neurotransmitters, or rather, the difficulty of his battle with Neuropathy, Pete, in trying to get the cerebrum to identify the messages he was sending to the brain!  
I was all over the place. Dropping things, walking into things, stuttering verbally and physically while resisting the Cartilage Girls Chloe & Carole’s desire for me to take a tumble and end up on the floor throughout the day!
I was also waiting for the arrival of three deliveries: one from the Cheap Food Shop and two from Amazon. Even if I found the time (three hours needed) to get a sh_ _, shave and shower, I dare not. I cannot hear the fire alarm, door chime, intercom, mobile, or telephone when I’m in the wet room. Absolutely no chance when I’m under the shower, and I do need a good scrub-up badly; having the Diabetic sock on the left leg and the diabetic compression bandaging on the right one for four weeks now meant I couldn’t take a shower. 
I needed the toothache tincture spray, upholstery cleaning spray, and brush (delivered today) that I’d bought. They came very late in the day, so my eyes worsened, and tiredness came on rapidly.  
I just ran out of time again.
Up around 05:00hrs. 
I found that the nocturnal bag had more in it, but Shaq later confirmed that it was grade 6 on the NHS chart. That’s not good.
The rubbish from yesterday’s delivery of the damaged saucepans was put near the flat’s entry/exit door.
This inspired me to take a look at the three new saucepans and try to photograph the damage.
The new small saucepan arrived just before Carer Shaq arrived. The saucepan at the back left was put underneath the stove.

Here, on the right, is the damage to those delivered yesterday. A broken handle and a dented rim on the other one at the corner. 
The new small pan that came today seemed to be okay.
Shaquille classed the urine as a 6 this morning. I went off to the Porcelain Throne.
I went through the crosswording and counted the cracks on the wetroom ceiling routine. Constipation Conrad was adamant that nothing was to escape. None did!
I made up another bag of waste, and then, at long last, I got onto the blogging duties. 
The new saucepan was nice and heavy, as are the others. Less chance of my knocking off the cooker!
I went to make a brew of the wonderfully strong Thompson’s Punjana tea. I took a kitchenette view shot and then went back to the computer. This is when the shaking and shuddering started. I dropped the mug of tea and came close to dropping the computer mouse.
The washing returned yesterday that I’d forgotten all about. It’s not surprising; I was in the land of nod when it came.

I cleaned up and made another brew of tea, Glengettie.
Back to the wet room. Conrad was in full charge again, but this time, my efforts to force things along worked, and four torpedo-shaped, rock-hard chunks created a slash up my bum as they hit the water. It didn’t half stink with it. It also retained the Kharki colour of the last few days. I used the extra-strong bog cleaner, added some Lemon Sherbert disinfectant and left it to marinate for a while longer.

The fabric foam sprays were delivered at about 15:00hrs. I’ll have to ask a Carer if they can read the instructions for me and write them down later. 

I made an Asda order for next week and will put it on the Google diary to avoid the double order from Iceland coming this week. I am a fool!
The blog’s progress was so slow. Error, mistake, mix-up, grammar, hitting wrong keys… Not good at all! 
Aha! The tooth pain spray arrived. I think I may have whooped for joy? Not sure! But when I opened the crushed and torn little box, I found the instructions were too small to read. Even with the magnifying glass!
Glaucoma Gladys, Cataract Katie and the eyelids drooping with tiredness forced me to stop blogging.
I’ll ask whoever comes on the evening call if they can read the instructions. It’s been a busy day. At least, it felt like it had.

The cheap food shop order arrived next. I’d got some lemon wafers (also for me), Clara’s Truffles for nurses and carers’ and other treats. As soon as I remember what, I’ll let you know.

I shall return with an update in the morning. (He says)
I went to see what food was available, I hope I can read the use-by dates. I took this rather decent, apart from the blotched snap of the view.

Carer Chris turned up. As he sorted the night catheter pouch out to put on, he listened to my tale of cleaning the upholstery and suggested I buy a new recliner. He got on my computer to have a look at the prices. The prices put an end to any intention of buying a new one. Until Chris spotted what I would have been interested in, a brown one, which was so cheap that it must have been a mistake, I thought. The others he looked at ranged from £999 to £4,120! This brown one was only £300! Too good to be true? But Chris confirmed the price. Delivery in 3-5 days at £99. I thought I’d ask Kara to take a look. This had tweaked my interest. Chris took the diabetic socks off, slipped me a painkiller and then read the instructions on the toothache tincture bottle. I asked him to do this to confirm whether I should spray it inside or out and what to do immediately after application. He patiently read through them and told me that I had to spray them on the affected area inside but that I must not swallow for any reason for ten minutes after spraying it on. Bless him.
I had a last look at the advertisement for the recliner…
Whoopsiedangleplop! I realised it is self-assembly. Me? Able to assemble a recliner? No!

Out of the blue, a new pain came! On the top of my left foot, ankle-end. This was painful, a sort of fluctuating throbbing stinging kind. This bodes not well! I’ve already got Arthur Itis, a currently dormant ankle ulcer and Cartilage Chloe collapsing painfully on my left leg. I’ll be struggling to hobble around in the morning. (I always look on the bright side, Hehehe!)
Toothache Tiffany launched a pain attack as I was mountaineering up onto the second-hand hospital bed. I thought about spraying some more of the painkiller onto the gums. But I don’t think Chris said anything about the frequencies to be used; how often, timewise? 

As I was about to settle, I remembered I’d not had anything to eat yet. So I descended from bed and doubled up two ready meals in the microwave. I hoped it was soft enough for my teggies to cope with.
I ate about a third of it.

I wasn’t up to getting back into the bed, so I collapsed thuddingly onto the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner.

Zzz!

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Knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers unless you’ve got Dementia, then you lose both buggers!