– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WHAT A START! MIND YOU THE MIDDLE & END WERE NOWT TO SHOUT ABOUT I stirred around 05:30hrs, after another disturbing jumping and shooting awake imitation night’s sleep in bed. The nocturnal catheter pouch was the brownest it’s been for a while. Carer Richard confirmed it as seven on the NHS colour-rating scale card. I was not in good nick this morning, but nothing seemed worse than any other ailment.
I started updating Sunday’s post. As I was about to post it, I got emails and messages from the bank about the payment for my new Tesco account order not being paid. I thought I’d coped well with setting up an account with them. Over the next few hours, I received more emails and messages from Tesco and the bank. Obviously, I had done something wrong somewhere. I struggled to get the bank to pay for my Tesco order. A carer tried, the first nurse tried, and then I rang Deana for help. I had eight different passwords come in, and none worked. Five emails from Tesco and three more from the bank. But I could not work out what I’d done wrong, although it was apparent that I’d done something wrong. Another nurse worked it out for me – I’d put the wrong telephone number as I registered with Tesco. I’d put the landline instead of mobile – what a clot and farce that was. Then, I rang Deana to say it was sorted; I’m so glad the nurses came today.
However, I still did not grasp what I had done wrong in the process for a while.
THE NURSE’S VISITS: A nurse called on me (Thank heavens) this morning to replace my Catheter. But she could not get it to go back in. After a phone call for assistance, another nurse arrived to help. An hour later, it was still not back in. They called for an ambulance but were told no non-emergency ambulances were available. So they departed, saying, just like Arnie said in the film, did, “I’ll be back!”
Three nurses arrived later! They got the Catheter painfully for me and sorted it around 20 minutes later. They were in a rush; they had a lot more Catheter-ridden old farts to visit. I said I was sorry to bother them, gave them some nibbles and drinkies of their choice, and was told to ring if there were any problems later. (None yet) I think this is why I did not post the blog properly. Jenny sent me an email as I checked those from Tesco and the bank and posted off Saturday’s blog. Then sent a message to Jenny; “I hope it’s gone through now, Jenny. ♥” Explaining the day I’d had as an excuse for the cock-ups that I’d made already. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
First photographs.
Second photographs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE BEDThe torture bed, where things got badder… Four tries to get the tube back into the bladder, It felt like I was being mauled by a barracuda, Blood came from the fungal lesion’s ulcer, I sang to make the pain easier… Gene Pitney’s 24-hours from Tulsa, I thought one nurse was the Grim Reaper, undercover, My howling was like a documentary voiceover, My voice recording could be used in Dracula! Each nurse got annoyed at each failure… One suggested taking my temperature, Their kind efforts did not waiver, In the NHS, I became a believer,
Each nurse was a wallflower with power,
As they worked out how to grab my waggler,
Which was getting smaller and wrinklier,
On the 6th attempt, I sensed they were getting tireder,
My bladder was getting fuller & fuller,
On the 7th, they epitomised womanpower,
Their attitude to me was pure exemplar,
These Angels were so patient and avuncular,
As soon as they’d won, I had gastrectasia…
Telling me to stay in bed for a while, to recover,
The tube reconnected in my tallywhacker…
I was already feeling so much better,
I told each one I loved her!
Nibbles & a drinkies of their choice, I did offer,
I thanked them all for being so spectacular! ♥ – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All in, up and running again! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tonight’s ready-made meal. I plan to have some tomatoes and beef sarnies with it.
Back in the morning… I hope! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Good Morning! Carer Promise arrived on his last call and took photos of the snow falling from the balcony. Then the lad attached the night pouch to the Catheter, which leaked all over the floor! So I was freezing from him letting the cold into the room, wet, and I had the job of cleaning up the leaked urine, wee’d on legs and slipper! And all I wanted to do was to get some sleep!
Still, it gave him a laugh. Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN each, Joy & Happiness to you All!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer, For stealing fuel help from every pensioner, But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later… Although it made OAPs £500 poorer… It got the Unions complaining angrier, It was businesses that gave him his backhanders! An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard, Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted? Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted… Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector! Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember, They’ll be in a home or alone, suffering from Dementia, Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia, Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia, Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia, Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia… Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,
I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater, A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler, I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore! A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came, I wanted to blame whatsitsname… Or maybe even whatsaname, I considered blaming whatshername… But for each one, I was the one to blame. First one, I was cleaning the windowpane… Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain, Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame, Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane! Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Then, I dropped my written username… I tried bending down again… Landed on my knees, agony more than pain! The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, But doing so was such a strain, Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train, The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things. A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.
This morning’s efforts.
Is my urine going darker again?
Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.
Morning all.
Afternoon-teatime views.
It looked like some clouds were going to land.
Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box. Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!
I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score! I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – So. I’ve got recurrent aphthous stomatitis, Glaucoma Gladys; Eyesight out of focus, The return of pain from Toothache Tiffany, Peripheral Pete is acting somewhat oddly, Up in the sky is a whopping cumulonimbus! Years ago, I was libidinous and lascivious, Now, I move ornamentally, & act sentimentally, I often act like a schoolteacher sumpsimus. I don’t mean to act so obnoxious, My toes and feet turned white & xanthous, Many things make me worried and anxious, How can mortals beat off the oligarchy? They rule, from wars, they make more money! Proletariats, innocents survive quixotically… Politicians live life quintessentially, We vote for MPs who we think, essentially, Will do the job least damagingly… In return, 26 taxes go up, regretfully, Starmer gives pensioners a financial raspberry! Commoners hate… his MPs show him ambivalence! He may be vacillatious, the voters are unfelicitous, A backhand-taker, give him a certificate, Did God permit this animal to rule us? With his lies & constant obscurantist blatherskite! Lies is another word spoken in omission, But we’ll see him consider any admission, As he agrees to send more ammunition… Compassion to him is an apparition, Of course, some eye him with a different complexion, Would never give him any condemnation, They’ll be part of some financial conglomeration! Overseas investment, banks denying the crucifixion. Fair enough, I’m still awaiting confirmation… What’s he done? My conclusion is he causes confusion, His manner & words show floccinaucinihilipilification. To pensioners; flabbergastation, N.I. increases, employers frustration, To voters, he’s an overpaid fustilarian. The self-employed, driven to fulmination! Taxpayers, give him a two-fingered gesticulation! He must be the current most-hated man in the nation, He’s guilty of inspiring the common man’s hortation!. Personally, I think he’s a schmuck, a sleeveen, His stealing from pensioners was particularly mean! We’ll mostly be dead come the next election… My last words are typed with some hesitation... Bear in mind they come from a man lacking education, I’ll be waiting for him, at his damnation! And we can both have a discussion in Hell’s dungeon! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Early morning—well, not all that early, really—around 06:30 hrs, morning views from the kitchenette window.
Later on.
An hour or so later.
Toothache Tiffany kicked off.
Teatimeish.
Not a proper meal. But the innards had been playing me up all day, and I didn’t want to annoy them anymore. I was content with what I had: Milk Roll sliced bread, nobutter-buttered tomatoes, beetroot, and red onions. The last pickled egg: red onion, a splodge of Marmite, or Vegemite—I like them both. And mini franks of undetermined meat and flavour, but they tasted okay.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’m struggling with toothache, seizures, and concentration. Lack of sleep is doing me no good, either. I can’t get caught up.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Let’s see how I go in the morning and if the computer is kind to me when it comes to saving photos. I’m low.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi, He was not soul-collecting, he called socially, I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023, He said he was depressed but very busy, North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine, Available Souls to collect rises again… Gaza, so many humans getting slain, Children starving, dying in pain, There is no world affability or affinity, Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity, Politicians without any accountability, No shortage of greed or ambivalency, Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy… Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll, War children build themselves a bolthole, Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole, Free murderers, with a legal loophole, Killers, murderers given parole, We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl, Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole, Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal, Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole! I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…” Dying must surely be more peaceful? Is heaven extraterrestrial? Was humankind meant to be experimental, I sense that we are all fossiliseable, Well, of course, anything is possible… Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal, This starts when they are foetal, Anklesnappers turn into people, They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical, Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ, You see, but you don’t know what to do… Your hopes for happiness are exhausted, Your faith in humankind has vegetated… Your lust for life has withered… The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated, Your caring nature has been exploited, Life itself, you’ve never bested, Truth is, you are no longer interested… You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested, You’ve not changed, but the world has altered, You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted… This earth has been maladministered, Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered! And pensioners he has murdered… Yet Starmer remains undeterred, Wait for him in hell to see him burn! Then your sense of humour can return! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my .
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!
Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.
I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away. The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two. Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.
Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.
When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.
My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!
I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?
The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.
I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.
Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot, bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!
– – LABOUR ROBDOGS PARTYTIME! – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately, He steals from pensioners; he’s a gerontophobee! He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously, Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously, Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free, He comes across as being rather sleazy… Lies by omission, with great nugacity, He looks like a land-based manatee, Lacking in sympathy and humanity, He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity, He brings out my hatred and lubricity! With his fibs by omission and duplicity… He forecasts that things will go bleakly, He gives an aura of him being peccantly… He answers questions in a roundabout way, evasively, Subject changing, circuitously, obliquely, evasively! His cabinet pep talks are more like an obsequy! His compassion is woeful; he hates commonimity, He can’t hide his conceitedness, ego or vainglory, He failed to declare £16,200 in gifts from Lord Alli, Accepted gifts worth £100,000! Verily! At worst? He stole Winter Fuel cash from Inchie! Who may not need to go on a diet of xerophagy, Heat or eat… is a possibility!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What graphics and photos did the computer, CorelDraw, MS Excel, MS Word, Norton, Ccleaner, Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and Mini-Seizure-Sandra allowed me to save for use on this blog?
In a sort of chronological order. Close up from the kitchen window, trying to get the trees and bushes to see the changing colours.
It was not as dark as last night, and it was even less dark three hours later. Third emptying: Around three more hours later, I Cracked it!
Looking far healthier now.
Mind you, I think I must have drunk about eight litres of spring water every hour. Does anyone remember the Doctor Who episode? I think it was a film, maybe The Waters of Mars? You’ll understand what I mean if you do recall the storyline. Hehehe!
By 04:00 hrs, I was up and about, almost alive, really. I went to the wet room, where I unwillingly spent about fifteen minutes waiting and forcing, encouraging the motion to move. Eventually, a long, broad, massive torpedo slowly emerged. I remained seated for a short while, half in relief of the riddance finishing and half to catch my breath. It was agony and hard work this morning. There was no mess, no bleeding. Great! Mind you, Harold’s Haemorrhoids suffered a fair bit, and they bled. The Germoloids were utilised.
I did feel a fool when I realised that as I kept wiping away the blood, but it just kept coming; this was unusual. Eventually, the penny dropped – The blood was coming from my cut thumb end on the toilet paper, not the piles! I think I managed a wry smile before verbally castigating and criticising myself.
The Iceland order arrived.
Chicken thighs, Milk Roll Loaf, salt, turkey meat, spring waters, crisps, Marmite, bleach, etc. delivered.
The fridge looked terribly bare and sparse after I’d put things away. The Christmas seasonal coffee I bought for the carers & nurses had a short use-by date on them. On the other hand, the freezer looked well cram-packed, but this was deceiving.
There were so many foods in there that I could not cook now that the cooker had died. Can’t afford another one yet.
But I’ll not starve, well, I don’t think so.
I cleared the stuff away and made an order from Ocado for delivery next Wednesday, the 20th, 06:30 > 07:30 hrs.
Carer Chloe arrived at 08:30 hrs. I asked her to fit my diabetic socks on my legs first thing. It’s damn cold today.
Chloe did the domestic call later.
I blogged for a few hours. Getting the computer to save photos was and still is hard and frustrating.
I got the Ocado order dispatched, and computer work had to stop for hours. I was in and out of it so often, never for long, but it was annoying.
I managed to get on Word Press Reader. There is some beautiful poetry and magnificent photography. I’m going to take a picture from Tim Prices’ site to use as the Cat of the Week photo. Tim Price’s Silver! Had his quota of cheese,
And boy, he looks at ease!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately,
He steals from pensioners, a gerontophobee!
He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously,
Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously,
Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free,
He comes across as being rather sleazy…
Lies by omission, with great nugacity,
He looks like a land-based manatee,
Lacking in sympathy and humanity,
He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity,
He brings out my hatred and lubricity!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m now frequently confused, flabbergastingly, Doreen Dementia guarantees my fallibility, Working things out, I have little flexibility, Sometimes I wish I lived in a Friary,
But there are people there who confuse Inchy,
I have ailments, not a disability…
I admit to having physical & mental frailty,
And live with seizures, most of them mini,
Compared to my lifestyle, formerly…
I don’t mind saying, nowadays I worry,
No one to converse with socially,
Sometimes, I’ll wake up gratifyingly…
But, never satisfyingly,
At times, I find life adversarially,
I fret over things universally,
In seizures, thoughts go atmospherically,
My usual mode turns to abnormally,
In rare up modes, I press on blithefully,
Ever present are doubts & hamartithia,
I lack tranquillity, equanimity & ataraxy,
Existing in solitarily, unsociably, introvertedly,
At times, showing stoicism, fortitude, longanimity,
I’m not short of talkativeness or loquacity,
But that’s usually with my EQ or Little Inchie…
The Grim Reaper, God, but mostly, with me!
I can still have moments of near lucidity…
I need help with my feeling nugatory…
But where do I find a mirabiliary? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Busy morning, getting things ready to go to the surgery.
I thought I’d done a decent job of getting everything ready. I was running a little later than I’d hoped, but I still thought I could make it as I locked the flat and walked to the Sherrington Park Medical Centre. Going down Winchester Street, about halfway, there were plenty of things to photograph. I went to get Kodak Tim from the three-wheeled walker trolly… I was livid when I realised that when I’d put new batteries in back at the flat, I must have put them down and forgotten to replace them in the bag. I recall a Carer coming in when I was replacing the batteries. It doesn’t take much for Imchy to lose his plot or plans! Grumph!
I can’t believe the things I could have taken snaps of on my walk up Mansfield Road to Carrington. A gang of youths lurking behind the fast food kitchen in the back. A bumper-to-bumper crash near the Chapel. Then, four police cars belted past, going toward the City; I was at the top of the hill when they went by and could have caught all four vehicles, one an armed response one, in one frame.
As I was swearing and calling myself names for forgetting to take the Kodak, two more cars passed with lights on, both unmarked with hidden blue lights in the grill. I got even more annoyed with myself then. I would have taken a few shots of some trees and shrubs down the hill with various shades. By the time I got down into Carrington, I could feel bile building in my stomach… possibly caused by my inner outburst of self-loathing at forgetting the Kodak. It really pissed me off! I’d not felt so annoyed for at least 20 minutes. Tsk!
When I got to the Sherrington Park Medical Practice—I’m not kidding—I was still giving myself grief about not taking the Kodak and walked straight past it! I got down near the Lidl store and realised what I’d done. The self-annoyance, nay, self-anger, got even worse with me then! I wondered if I had a mini-seizure as I got to the surgery.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – ONE!
When I got inside, the do-it-yourself signing-in thingamajig was in use. No receptionist could be seen, but one did arrive shortly.
She arrived because somehow I’d crashed the signing in, wotsit. I couldn’t see how I could have done wrong; it’s only pressing the four confirmation buttons; I can’t recall which day, the month of birth, and the first letter of your Surname, I think. A message came up saying ‘Your arrival has been recorded, then the screen went blanl and the lady arrived, giving me a sort of look that said, “Oh, dear, it’s Him!”, or “Why does he have to come every time I’m on duty!” She was very nice about it, though. But my EQ rang out with that look I got. Haha! As I sat down, the lady in the waiting room indicated that the same thing had happened to her. That cheered me up.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – TWO!
I sat down and got my crossword book out, which made me more self-discussed! I also forgot to take my reading spectacles with me! It was much like hard work reading the clues, so after a few minutes, I gave up and put the book back in the trolley basket.
SURGERY EMBARRASSMENT – THREE!
Whether it was a mini-seizure or I fell asleep, I can’t say.
I was roused by concerned patients in the waiting room. I was just about to fall off the chair when two of them grabbed me, preventing me from falling. The lady said she could see me nodding off, and I began to lean to my right more and more. Thanks to the man and woman for helping and rescuing me, whoever you were. ♥
SURGERY JOY – Nurse Caroline
Nurse Caroline came to collect me, and we entered the treatment room. The DVT nurse was not coming today; I expect another appointment will be given. But seeing Caroline’s sweet, helpful, caring smile took away any concerns. She has this effect on me, you know. 💘 I think at this stage, I had a mini seizure again cause the next thing I recall was leaving the centre and going into the car park. With no pain in either arm, had I had the RSV infection or not?
After a few minutes of pushing the 3-wheeled walker-trolley up the hill towards Sherwood, I felt the serum doing its thing in my right arm. There was very little pain compared to the two shots, COVID-19 and flu, last week. As I descended the Mansfield Road hill into Sherwood, I felt a little fatigued, a side effect I expected. I took my time.
I called into the J Sainsbury Local store the first time I’d been there. I got some treats for the wardens.
Then, I popped into the Continental shop to get another jar of the fantastic-tasting Golonkowa.
I got onto Winchester SDtreet and to the bus stop just as a bus arrived! It was one of the new buses that had space for me to stand up for the journey. I was soon up the hill and getting off the bus. There was no way I was up to walking up the hill. So, I’d had good & bad moments on today’s outing.
I was a smidge concerned about having good luck. Seeing Nurse Caroline, even if most of it was a blur now. Catching the bus with perfect timing!
It’s not natural to me.
BACK AT THE COMPLEX
I got off the bus safely, thanking the driver.
I called into the office to drop the bits off.
To the end of the building and up in the lift to cell 72.
I wearily got in and straight to the Porcelain Throne.
Trotsky Terence Contolled, a little messy.
Hunger took a grip, and I decided to have the cheesy cobs I’d bought, no-butter buttered, with pork in jelly, sliced oh so thick and crammed into the rolls. I also sliced some tomatoes (slicing off a bit off of the end of my left-hand thumb) to salt and add to the feast.
They tasted just grand!
The meat and the jelly blended with the cheesy roll delightfully!
Carer Promise arrived as I was emptying the day catheter. It had not filled up much because while out and about, I also forgot to take some water with me, as with the reading glasses and hearing aid batteries, and to pick up the Kodak Tim camera. As I emptied the urine pouch, I soon found out that it was not a good idea to forget to take the water with me.
As you can see above, the urine was the bloodiest for many months, perhaps a year.
As per the NHS instructions, I called 111. Luckily, Precious had not left, and he took over the phone as I could not make out the questions being asked. As if I didn’t know what was about to be told me, it was “To drink more water.” So, I did! Fair enough, because I’d fallen asleep and did not drink enough.
I took a wash and meandered into the kitchenette to put the kettle on, but I stopped myself from making a brew, what with the dark colour of the urine.
I took these snaps of the sunsetting and got down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. The idea was to watch a documentary on the TV and then get my head down.
I’d gone off into a deep sleep within a minute. I sprang a wake, unsure when or what time, and looked at the night catheter on the floor. It still seemed very dark to me. Got the Kodak and took this snap of it on the floor. Realising I’d not got into the bed, I checked the time… it was 04:00hrs. I got up, changed the catheter,
and decided to stay up. Bleary-eyed, with blood from the thumb having trickled down my nightwear. I was wiping it with a towel and on the bed leg. I merely laughed it off! Of course.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I hoped the Grim Reaper might be calling… but no! Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – But does that include the product? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GAWD, I’VE NEVER FELT LOWER! Forgive this start to this messed-up, dismal, disappointing, depressing, distressing, dispiriting, disheartening, discouraging, demoralising, dismal, daunting, disenchanting, disquieting, discomposing, disturbing, distressing and deplorable due to this computer-preventing-success blog.
The hardest and least successful day ever. I’m assuming that the end is near. I’ll lose all I hold dear… It’s not a computer here; it’s an electric alligator… The web’s the master aggravator and alienator! A bloodsucker, a mental boneshaker… That’s turned me into a bellyacher, Duodenal Donald had never been pain-fuller! I’m frustrated, getting angrier, & arsier! After the stroke, I acquired aboulomania, It got worse swiftly, I can tell yer… My Doctor seems more like an arbitrageur. Did she know, or was she being cagier? Indigestion or maybe apepsia or dyspepsia. Hospital check-up – Duodenal Ulcer… In later life, one tends to become more toeier, I became addicted to my new Atari computer… A joy to behold, it made me happier, Then the web came, loved by each Diddler & Fiddler, Manipulated and financed by the Oligarcher, Thus, I approach the end of my tether… Tired of failure, trying to be a trier… Alone, is it time to meet my maker? I try to get out of the depressional mire… Will my spirits ever get higher? Will Heaven be waiting, or Hell’s fire? I don’t think it should really matter… Well, not to me, a failed snippersnapper!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I had half an hour of when the computer aloowed me to get pictures on… not many. Bitterly dejected now. When I got up from the depths of the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner. The nocturnal bag is nice and full. Changed and photographed the old-fashion clock calendar. Got these photos to save to go on here, but not for eight hours! Very anger-making! Took the misty morning shot.
Hours later, I emptied the day catheter bag into the jug. It looked awfully full of bits of red stuff floating about in the urine. 640ml’s worth.
It was my worst day ever with this com-dam-puter; I lost so many hours failing to get it to save the photos. I did what I tried yesterday, thinking how well it went then; if I do the same, it must work again. What a Dork!
During the last four hours on the computer, I just got one photo to save! And that was one of the worst I’ve ever taken.
Going to have to get things ready for the visit to the Doctors and DVT Warfarin clinic tomorrow.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Monday Morning. I got up at 05:00hrs and got the ablutions done. Took a poo, and it was two-tone in both ways. Started off taking agony and ages to get it moving; one giant torpedo plopped out, followed by soft, gooey Trotsky Terence splashes! A few weeny cuts shaving. I didn’t do all the medical checks, as the DVT nurse is going to check the read end in the examination later at the surgery; blood and Haemorrhoid Harold are to be tested again.
Then, there’s the RSV inoculation. I’m looking forward to walking there and back. It’s a shame I could not arrange a lift. I sorted the waste bags, made a brew, and got on the computer. I started it and did a clean-up with Ccleaner. That allowed me to save some outstanding photos! I’d got about nine to go on here. After saving three, it stopped again! It would not let me save those taken today to file!
Was I angry? Did I get all flustered and annoyed? Did I swear & curse at all? Well, yes!
Carer Richard arrived. He sorted the medications for me. And took the laundry down for me. Photos from yesterday (Sunday). Just three of them! A jar of the Golokowa meat. (Pork shank), potatoes done in the air fryer, peas done in the slow cooker, sliced tiny tomatoes yellow & red, and some extra strong mature cheddar cheese in the bowl. Spirit vinegar on the potatoes. It was the best-tasting meal I’ve had in a long time! I’ll try to remember to stop at the deli shop on my way to the Doctor’s this morning to get some more of the meat. It was super and had lip-smackingly good meat jelly in it! Early evening sky.
I did this blog up to here. Realising that I was going to be out for hours, I decided to send this off now before I prepped things for the surgery and clinic. It’ll be a long day, with lots of walking and hobbling, so blogging may be too challenging to get done—although, with my computer, it’s always that way!
I’m hoping the earlier warning that if the results are not good, I may be taken into the QMC immediately and will be in for a few days. I think it’ll all be down to the blood status (INR). However, my EQ tells me this will not happen, and I believe it.
I might have to leave the blog until later. See how I feel after the local anaesthetic wears off. There will probably not be time left in the day anyway. 14:00hrs, examination, then the procedures, then getting home again… home? I mean back to my cell… no, flat! Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d been out for beer & darts, I was feeling merry, I took a shortcut home through the cemetery, I was between the trees having a pee… And a voice started talking so pleadingly! I turned & there was a man who looked skeletony… I was stunned when he asked hoarsely… ‘Ave yer gorra gasper matey? Adding, yer the first one who’s ever seen me! The things I’ve seen, rising from my grave nightly, I asked rather wearily and sceptically… Are you dead then? A little sarcastically, Oh, yer, I snuffed it in 1963, Did yer die painfully or sinisterly? Nae, boringly… Worappened specifically? The missus killed me! I went out for a beer at the Apple Tree… But I drank beer tremendously, Had a pee up against that tree… I tangled the zip, and it cut my weenie! Bled to death, no help around this vicinity, Off to la-la land, fell down this grave to the hereafter, Laid there and died, drunk, couldn’t even pray, They put someone’s coffin on top of me the next day, Still, I can get out at night now to play, I’m sorry to hear that; what can I say? I fooled yer. I’m just a dead hornswoggler…
Commonly known as the Grim Reaper, Oh, you’re the soul taker? I’ll not read the warrant; it’s just a longueur, You’ll be free of worries & hylomania, I could let you stay longer, however… Delay taking your soul to the hereafter, Can you help the Grim Reaper Grand Templar? What does he want, your head denunciator? Fags! To calm his temper! Just take me; my life here is just crepuscular!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Moments of Mind-Mangling-Malcolm – Out-of-Its – Sandra’s Seizures – Mind-Blanks; Call them whatever you like, but they controlled most of this “What-Day-Is-It” – Where-am-I?” “What am I doing” day!
The computer contributed to the mental confusion, stubbornly stopping me from saving files.
Eventually, after the fourth Ccleaning session, I circumvented some of the photo refusals by grouping some together and making them minuscule. And it worked!
I thought this was the solution. I tried again with others, and not only did it not save them, but it deleted the ones I was trying to save them as! So I lost some more of them. Frustrated is not a strong enough word! The day did not start well. I got up at 07:15hrs. I’ve been getting up later for some reason. The night pouch was far too deep, a colour to my liking. Searching the nurse’s bags to find a mesh catheter pouch holder took me so long. And proved to be another of my many, varied multitude of failures. The door chime chimed. Carer Sam came in. The medications were sorted, the diabetic socks sorted, and a short natter was enjoyed. The Kodak Camera was in a temperamental mood. It kept telling me each time I returned the card from the computer to the camera that it needed Formatting. But this will erase all content on the SD card!
All I could do was to take it out and put it back in again, sometimes up to 8 times!
I shot the room to see if it worked this time. Then I took a snap of my beloved tree copse. Unfortunately, it will soon be bare of leaves. Bootiful!
I got the ablutions sorted. One gigantic mega-torpedo with rear-end splitting capabilities! (Haha! I don’t know why I laughed then; it wasn’t funny!)
Two little tiny nicks shaving that oddly took ages to stop bleeding. The amount of Brut needed surprised me. Maybe my INR level is a bit high? When I stepped out of the bowl of antiseptic-disinfected water that I’d been standing in a while shaving, panged like crazy, and this, at only raising the leg about 2 feet to clear the bowl. Odd that! I Phorpain gelled both Cartilages and Arthur Itis’s knees. Got the olive Oil in both earholes. Blephagelled the right… no, left eye, and sprayed both. Then I rubbed the barrier cream on the arms, hanging belly, and base of Little Inchy. The blotches and spots had returned above each eye, so they also got some barrier-creaming. I added some Germolene on top.
Poor Little Inchie was the next job to tackle. Left till last again, you notice. Maybe I enjoy pain. What’s the word I want? Maybe I’m a masochist, is it? I’m sure Little Inchie shrivels up even more when he sees the tube coming his way. I went to the kitchen, got the earhole sprayer, and gave both ear canals a good blast of purified water. I cut some Warfarin tablets in half for the Caregivers to use on their morning calls. The dosage is currently 1½ every day until the next test on Monday, November 25th. I think. I scribbled some notes of the day on the reminder pad and made a mug of tea using JS Extra Strong and Thompson’s Punjana tea bag. It tasted delicious!
They started coming at me as soon as I got on the computer. After this, they rarely gave me a rest. And here I am, trying to write this at 0950hrs tomorrow morning, with nothing added to the memory notes from here on. It felt like an instant change from being somewhat with it to being unsure of what I was doing. I’ll mention this to the nurse on Monday at the surgery. That’s something else that concerns me; three carers said they would try to get through to Easy-Link for me and get back to me to see if they can do me a lift. I’ve heard nothing. So, I must walk to the surgery and back on Monday (tomorrow). I’m told it’s not their job to ring up for me. I ask them to, cause of the mistakes I’ve made in the past with mishearing what they say on the phone. Face-to-face is a lot easier, but I’ve had trouble using a telephone or mobile since the stroke. Now that the landlines have gone ‘Fibre’, catching everything said over the phone is more challenging than ever. I’ll not bother them again. I felt guilty asking them in the first place.
Anyway, I managed last Tuesday without a lift. It about crippled me with the effects of the hypos. Hehe! I hope the RSV jab is kinder to me than the Covid & Flu ones were.
I had the microwave heat-and-eat dishes arrive. It said to avoid staining the pot, do not cook tomato sauces, baked beans, or fatty foods.
I was going to have some lamburgers. Carer Joanne said they are cookable in the air fryer. But because I wanted to try the microwave pots, I put a readymade meal and some cooked beef in a pot and cooked them for 6 minutes in the microwave. I lost the photo along with all the others, eaten by the computer. The meal looked okay and smelt fine. But oh, dear, it tasted terrible. The first time I used the microwave dish, I left it stained already.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My body & brain seemed clumsier,
Concentrationless, forever making a blunder,
Concentration Conrad, trouble with the catheter… But compared to Thursday, I was feeling chirpier, Then, this morning, I turned into a grumbler, The power supply died well before it got darker… Life felt it was just too much hassle and bother, I turned into a frustrated, dispirited, sad creature! Everything went wrong, tormenting, crueller, I got the power supply back within the hour, I awaited life’s next unredeeming feature… At this, I admit I felt a little perkier, Why I felt ‘up’ is up for conjecture… The colour swatches disappeared from CorelDraw, The batteries expired in the Kodak camera, Liberty-Global, Virgin Media… Drove me to the point of hysteria! Blackout! No internet, TV, Alarm help-caller… Was it down, or did I make another blunder,
I called on my mobile to Warden Deana,
Asked if anyone else had lost their Virgin Media,
Many had, so I was in a confused megillah…
The computer came back on, I had a self-ponder,
So far behind now, a frustrated old blogger,
Hopes of catching up are less than minuscular,
I had to restart four-times on the computer,
Resigning in on all the sites, regular, Then, once again, I lost the power… I reset the box as a chuntering inveigher! I hope I didn’t move the wrong relayer, I exist in almost total disorder… Now joined by my mental dyspraxia, No socialisationing, so no clishmaclaver! Life, to me, is a shyster, racketeer, & fraudster.
1) I was so far behind with the blogging.
2) I lost the notebook page by tearing it off the pad to do another in a failed effort to save time. I have no reminder notes; I can only use my memory with hints from the photographs the computer allowed me to save.
3) Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Seizure-Soaked-Sandra, Concentration-Crusher-Konrad.
4) After the third computer cleaning of the day (there were two more), I tried to save some CorelDraw rectangles to a file to save new things to the same name and then changed the name to suit the photo. Great idea, I thought. Three hours later, as I was saving the last one, which was saved, the eleven ones done earlier disappeared!
5). Depression Duncan Dawned.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Bit of blood mixed in the nocturnal bag?
Morning views.
My beloved tree copse. I’d love to have a hobble through it again. But…
Late evening view.
Beef in rich stout gravy. With added chopped red onions. Cooked in the microwave, using the new Heat & Eat vented box. Potato chunks cooked in the Air Fryer. Brown ready-sliced cobs and an expensive Pots & Co. Lemon & Lime Posset.
So naughty, but nice!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I found seven in ten minutes! Ah, I’ve just found the eighth, a stud on his right boot! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Boy, did I sleep better? Yes, I did? Did you? Oh, yes! I must stop talking to myself!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN, thanks for reading my blog!
