Day: 9 December 2024

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At the bayou, having mayhap a barbecue,
Or you may be out hunting deer or caribou?
Answering the taxman’s letter at your bureau,
On the Porcelain Throne, using the tissue?
With your beloved, about to bill and coo, 
Or just thinking, what’s the world coming to?
At the bar, having your 13th drinkypoo?
Watching a movie, The Battle of Waterloo?
Eating your takeaway curry with aloo?
Enroute to hospital after a blanscue?
Practicing fencing or jujitsu?
Just back from holidaying in Limpopo?
You could be shopping, waiting in a queue?
At the Zoo, looking at a sucuruju?
At a show, Hard Rock or burlesque?
Sorting out a medical snafu?
The 4-minute warning sounds… Woo-Woo-Woo!
What do you do? – Cause it’s due!
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Māori: A hill in Porangahau, New Zealand.
Name In English; ‘Music playing at the same time’.
The longest place name in the world.
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I woke around 03:00hrs, fell asleep and shot awake again at around 06:00hrs. I detached the nocturnal pouch from the catheter day pouch. I emptied and wrapped the pouch up for disposal.
When I made these, I found I had an intense thirst. So, I made some bottles of spring water and flavoured them: orange and pineapple in different measures for the small bottles and lime juice for the larger ones.
When starting to sort the waste bags, I  needed the Porcelain Throne. I grabbed and we poddled off to the wet room.
Constipation Conrad was still in charge, but I felt less pain & it bled less. The two- and three-toned colours had gone. This visit, it was back to a light Kharki.

I washed as I insist on this thrice a week, even if not needed. Hehe! I put the compiled bag near the front door. And back to the blog.

I took this shot of the view from the kitchenette window when I went to check that I’d not left the hot water tap running. It doesn’t show, but it was raining. I returned to the computer and took a snap of the ancient clock diary thingamabob. It showed 0623hrs as the time. So, I misread read it earlier?

I struggled with the things I had got wrong and changed yesterday. Some of the corrections were wrong as well. So I had a go at sorting my own made mess. arrived, so I immediately knew I would be in a quagmire when I returned to the sorting after Shaquille had gone. I’d had a sort of pre-warning that depression & irritability were imminent for me to suffer. It was right, too!

Shaq was his usual calm, laid-back self. A nice lad. He got the medications sorted and issued. He put my diabetic socks on for me. It is much appreciated; it is blooming cold today. The lad left, and I returned to computer cock-up sorting…

I got into a chronological turmoil that left me just hoping things would come out right. I was lost, really. I had photos and graphics spread over three days of templates.
I thought at least three times that I’d got it right. But, No! I think I was more confused than when I first discovered them on yesterday’s blog. !
I gave up and hoped for the best. Which was good timing cause kicked off. Things would have been impossible to sort out if she had been in action during my rescue efforts for the blog. Not that I think they have been sorted. Maybe they have been made less noticeable, conceivably. Whichever and whatever, I started to update the Saturday blog at long last. Hello, I wondered what that noise was. The rain and wind are coming again, but it’s gone dark! I’ll try to take a photo of the rain coming into the balcony.
I went through the doors into the balcony, and the rainwater came above the boardwalk planks, and I now have two more wet socks, slippers and feet!
Double Humph!
I took a shot from the end window as I got soaked. I must say that the weather looked horrible out there.
The mudslide appeared to be mammoth-sized. The wind howled, and rain poured as if thrown at us by the Gods above! As the stagnant-standing rain reached my left slipper toes. I got back into the flat post-haste.

arrived to do the afternoon visit. She looked at the blog and laughed at my writings about the terrible day that I was having. Hehehe! Not really, she laughed with me, not at me ♥.

I continued to get the blogging/correcting advance. It took me hours to get Saturday’s blog titivated enough to post it off.

I gave up on the computer and got a meal sorted. Early to bed for me, the plan was to eat, then sleep – needed desperately. I think that I ought to have enjoyed this meal. But didn’t. I threw most of it away. I believe this is due to a sleep-stopping bug I must have caught. 
As for the rest of the day, your guess is as good as mine up to about 21:30hrs. I was feeling suddenly shattered. I realised in the morning that I had been working on Sunday’s blog and had gotten a lot done. Made a mess of most of it, thanks to the weariness and multiple and persistent .
 Carer Ali answered the teatime call and asked if I wanted him to call the doctor. The doctor? On a Sunday evening? It was nice of him to ask and recognise my state. Looking back, I recall struggling to find the words as we spoke. Sheer fatigue, and I’d done very little physical activity all day? All I wanted to do was sleep. Huh! After he’d gone, I lay precisely where I was on the £300, second-hand, musty, Haemorrhoid Harold Testing, cringingly beige, crumb-covered, not-working, rickety recliner. Carer Richard arrived as I was nearly nodding off. I chirped up a little after getting up and stubbing my toe. I was, I think, communicating better.
Within a few minutes, my tiredness returned, and I was back in the recliner. I couldn’t get to sleep in the recliner, so I moved into the hospital bed. Then things got worse,  , and joined in, assisted with the odd sharp  interludes; this assured that it was another night of No-Sleep.
It was horrible, and I didn’t feel all that good on Monday morning (Now).
Poor old sausage.
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TTFNski
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