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– – – TO THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE – –

My youth & teens were spent as a cycler,
A few years later, I became more adulter, 
Having a motorbike license, I bought a 3-wheeler,
Driving it inside, at first, felt weirder,
It was appreciated by Grizelda,
And driving it was far less colder,
Romantically, I got a bit bolder,
Our passions began to smoulder…
I got urges, I don’t mean in my shoulder,
But she was a big gal, my Grizelda,
Lack of room hampered our kissing and cuddling,
Needed a bigger car to get my Zipperdeedoda!
I bought a Skoda Estelle, which was bigger, 
Seat laid back flat: room to romp and jigger!
Satisfied each other’s needs, which was avuncular,
I was nimble, Gorgeous Grizelda was muscular,
We merged, entangled each other’s appendicular,
Blending, integrating our torsos together, 
In the car, no worry about the weather,
Then things got astronomically better!
She moved into my flat that winter,
I was existing surrounded by ambrosia,
Life seemed heaven-sent, never sublimer,
She girded my loins pleasantly harder,
No female before was ever so yummier,
No female before was ever hairier,
Solid, thick thighs would squash yer…
Gawd! How I miss Grizelda!
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Crappy night’s sleep, broken again, but this time I had an idea what was causing the bursting awakes. I found myself with a sore throat and coughing after each awakening. Due to my cock-ups during the day, some of which will be admitted to and told of later, I’ve lost the time I made up a little yesterday.
Of course, I take all this in my stride.
There I go again, I’ve lied! 05:30hrs: 
I gave up on my sleep-seeking.
Night catheter pouch off.

05:45hrs: Kitchen view.

Medications.

More Medications.

And, some more Medicationalisationings.

Came across my Anticoagulation Card.
2004, I think. Hehe.

Ticker & Blood Tests.

NOT GOOD AT ALL!
But at least the blood oxygen has improved.

Several hours on the blogging.

Carer Ejaz arrived.
NOT GOOD AT ALL!
He handed me the medications, and I put them in my mouth and started to pour in some spring water.
Nothing would go down my throat, tablets or water.
I gagged a bit and had to spit everything out. Some of the tablets that had been in my mouth with the water had disintegrated as I tried to swallow for a while.

Ejaz thought I’d swallowed some because he couldn’t find the tablets in the bin. I examined the waste bin I’d just spewed up in. I recognised the beta-blocker, Codeine, and Ramipril; the others had either melted of dissolved. He was told not to give me anymore again, as I may overdose. How, when I didn’t swallow any in the first place, was puzzling. It’s not the lad’s fault. I waited until he had gone and just took those I knew were needed. Codeine, Ramipril and a Beta-blocker. Shook me up a smidge. No problems taking these? Or since?

Asda delivery arrived.
I explained my problem with bending down, as I do with any not-seen-before driver, and asked if he could put the stuff in the carriers I’d supplied.
Well, if nothing else, you’ve got to appreciate the way he crammed the crisps in; it might be a crisp-pre-crushing process they are trying out?

Peas Split bag,
Tomatoes, box ripped,
Tomato bruised.
These were from Ocado last week.
Morrisons sent me a pre-crushed loaf.

Went to make a small meal.
Washing the dishes, I dropped the bowl as I emptied it. All over the floor, and trod it all over.
Washed it and realised the potatoes were probably burnt now. Taking out the oven tray, I dropped that on the just-mopped kitchen floor and realised the bottom of the slippers was now leaving grotty black marks as well!
Took the slippers off and put them in the laundry bag. Getting the other pair on… Lost my balance and hit my shoulder and armpits on the £300 second-hand shop bought in c1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
Eventually, I got around to making a mug of Glengettie tea. Took the meal through to the recliner and fetched the tea through. The door chime chimed.
Carer Jyoti. The meal and tea were cold when I got back to them.
I went to throw the fodder away and make another brew. I decided to make some spring water bottles to meet the demands & needs of the catheter & bladder.
Yes, I dropped the bottle! I stood there watching as it spun around, spraying water all over the kitchen floor! Although I had to force myself not to cry… the self-cursing, terrible language, Depression Duncan, and general disbelieve at the last hour’s event… followed by more bad language… I cursed myself that much, and I was shaking with anger so much that I got a rare headache.

Must remember to tell Carer Joe about the phone call I had while Carer Jyoti was here from the Social Lady regarding the wheelchair. She asked questions about various things, but I lost the plot as confused as I got. Carer Jyoti spoke with her. Can’t recall the details. I did ask for her number to ring, though, for Joe to contact her.
07812 277786 Tues > Thursday. 08:00>16:00hrs.

The muslin cover bags that Social no longer supplies, which I have to buy from Amazon, arrived.

Taking this shot of the view.
The pains from the catheter tube pullling on Little Inchie and his lesion kicked in. Tried different positions for the straps, but the bugger was still hurting when I was trying to sleep later on and into the morning. Painful!

Carer Joe called, and I told him my woes, but I don’t recall (I do a lot of this) mentioning calling the Social lady or her name. Humph!

No meal, of course. I had crisps and an ice cream.
And soon nidded off. I woke up by the arrival of Carer Ejaz. I recall a little about this call.
Ejaz took the waste bags.

As tired as I felt, fretting over this, and that caused me problems getting to sleep.
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A bad day, needless to say!
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