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Sorry, no Ode-No Time
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Mayhem Day Again!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –My brain and body had so much to cope with.
But not getting help, to a degree, is understandable.
A good deed rarely goes unpunished? 
12th Century saying: The earliest known form comes from Walter Map’s 12th-century text De nugis curialium (Courtiers’ Trifles), where a character named Eudo “Left no good deed unpunished, no bad one unrewarded”. History validates this fact.

I’m fed up with failing, things going wrong. Even I find it hard to believe the things that can go wrong… every day without fail. I must sound like a right whimp and moaner… which I suppose I am really.
No time to get an Ode done today, with the same prospect for tomorrow, I’m so far behind with everything. And getting more so each day. 
I’m so confused with all the things happening.

A FEW OF TODAY’S ACTIVITIES, ERRORS, FRUSTRATIONS, AND FAILURES, THAT STYMIED INCHIE & ACTIVATED CONFUSION KONRAD 
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The catheter valve leaked again!
Hours lost in cleaning up and changing socks, and both pairs of slippers are now in the laundry bag!
The might bag valve took off the day bag plastic gripper, I had to change the day bag – No, be fair, a Carer changed that for me as she made the early call… not at 0800hrs, she arrived before 0700hrs, seems the timings have changed as with the Carers who call.

I’ve lost 15 calls a week from the best ones. This morning’s Carer, who I’m not allowed to mention on my blog, is a help, but of course, has not got the time to do all she wants to. But managed to get the day bag changed. Bless her, saved the day there.

I got Four-wheeled-Walker-Wally out of the balcony. Not an easy job for one in my conditions. Painful and I damaged the door getting it into the wet room, and got the things needed into the box.

I received a phone call from a lady, and an hour-long Q&A session took place. Concerning the catheter situation. She will arrange for a different style to be sent to see if I can cope better with them, but she fears they will be more complicated to operate. Thanked her, but forgot to mention that they must be short tubed – Oh, I can’t keep everything in my watered brain!

I rang the Carer to make sure he would arrive on time this week. He said he’d be here in 10 minutes. So, I went down to the lobby to meet him and save some time. I got down to the doors, and he arrived a couple of minutes later… But he needed to go up to the flat to log in at the checkpoint there. Another wasted effort… 
A good deed rarely goes unpunished?
We got to the bus stop, and Carer E took a photo with Kodak Tim 2. During the trip out, he took about twelve pictures and gave me the camera back when we got home to the cell… no, flat I mean. 
In the morning, when I got around to putting the photos in CorelDraw, I lost them into the ether! I thought I might have deleted them, so I checked the Trash Bin, but it was empty! All that effort the lad did, for nothing! Sorry mate.
I’ve no idea how I lost them! SPIT!
A good deed rarely goes unpunished?

We went up in the lift, then down in the lift, and with 
in tag, and The Carer who cannot be named took a photo of me sitting on my . And off down to Shgerwood. This bus, as usual, soon filled up with no less than six people, including me, with walkers. The Carer kindly gave up his seat to a lady who was struggling to get her walker to fit in, and she came over to take the side seat. She lost her balance and fell against my walker, and I now have a pretty new bruise on my fractured knee. Hehe! No fault anywhere, but it proves my motto of the day is still applicable… 
A good deed rarely goes unpunished?

As we got off of the bus, we realised we had time to nip into a shop that usually sells sourdough bread, but the bread shelves were empty. No doubt awaiting a delivery. We exited and crossed over the road via the pelican lights. In the morning, (now), I looked up why they call these crossing Pelican. I discovered that it comes from the acronym PELICON, which stands for PEdestrian LIght CONtrolled, crossing.
Well, I never knew that! Just another fact or figure for me to lose in the haze of confusion, frustration and depression that has taken over my brain. Haha!

We got into the opticians, and I sat down on . The receptionist came over a minute after she’d taken the details from my friendly Carer, and asked if I wanted to look at the frames. I explained that I’d like them with bigger frames… adding, with a cheeky smile (she said later), that it would be at a smaller price. She did larf!
The first frames I selected were a great size, and as I was being careful in picking them off the hooks in case I got the PN shakes, she came over and said, “Let me get them for you”. They were £240! This removed my interest in them, and I selected another pair, £40, ah, that’s more my barrow, I said. “What about this pair?” she said, choosing a pair a little smaller. £30! They’ll do for me, thank you. And she put them aside for me. The Carer asked why I selected those plain Jane frames? I told him they were the cheapest they had. He replied, with a cheeky smile on his face, “I’m not surprised; they’ve probably had them in stock for years. Nobody under 80 would pick them.” I bet you wore them like that in the 1950s! We both laughed, and the lady behind the counter had a titter as she’d heard us talking. That was a highlight of the day. We made four people laugh! Great! For a while, this prompted a short visit from . Which lasted the whole time I was having my eyes tested in the tiny room we had a lot of trouble getting my into. The optromatist wasn’t too taken with that. But, being as Horis was with me, I soon changed her views with a few witty answers to her questions. Even she smiled a few times. Especially after the eye test, and she told me I hadn’t got Glaucoma, it’s a sheer covering cataract behind something or other that I can’t remember what she said it was. I blurted out just what I felt. “Well, what a pillock I am! All these years, I’d believed that when I had my right eye cataract lasered, he told me I’d got Glaucoma coming in the left eye, and they would call me back in when I’d recovered from the lasering I’d just had. I remember telling them in the City Hospital stroke ward the following week, then at the Mary Potter Centre when they were diagnosing me with Peripheral Neuropathy, just before I got shot at work…”  
I thought she was going to cry with laughter!

Aha, I’ve got CorelDraw going again, but don’t ask me how I did it, I know notteth!
I’ll catch up on the missed photographs.
Carer helped with the Health Checks
Early morning shot from the kitchen.
Carers & nurses table.
The catheter leak marks.
Erm… er… erm…
Dropped the toothpaste, bent down & clouted my head on the sink.

Back on the bus up to the flat, walked through Winwood Court and Winwood Heights to Woodthorpe Court (my prison block) and up in the lift to the flat.

Shame about me losing all the photographs taken in Sherwood, but I had a few more minutes, so the disaster did not hit me too hard. When the Carer left, the phone calls started coming, and then, rather unfortunately for me, took over, and High-Mood-Horis hopped it.

Another Carer came, and, like yesterday, gave me only one Warfarin tablet. We could not find the paper on the DVT Warfarin result & dosages. I thought this week’s each night was either 1½ or 2? Of course, I may be wrong. I’ll phone the DVT Warfarin Clinic in the morning to ask them. Too late now. It’s a mystery what happened to the prescribed dosage slip. I’m still hoping I’ll remember something.

I tried to make a start on this blog, but the tiredness and weariness brought on by all the hassles that had got to me like never before. But, there were a lot of them, and with me fretting over getting ready to go out, the hobbling, etc… Although for part of the trip, good old granted me a visit, and I was leg-pulling, teasing and being teased, and dare I say it? I really think on that trip out, I was happy, contented, in a different world!
But not now.

I started thinking of making something to eat, and the landline chirruped up.
The line’s connection was not good; a lady spoke about catheter problems with a leaking valve. The poor lady did more listening than talking, however. I felt so low, I just waffled on about all my problems. Not knowing why, but knowing that she could not help in any way, bless her. 
I waffled on about all the help promised not coming, the financial help not coming. The wheelchair problems, the neuropathy results, the short hours of the Carers, and not being able to afford extra, thus I’m living in a fleapit and incapable of bending without a risk of a tumble, Dizzy Dennis or Lost-Balance-Belinda episode, to move or clean anything. 
Eventually, I got around to letting the lady speak about the catheters, after apologising for gabbing on.
She asked about the actual problem. I explained about the PN and stooping to reach the valve to open or close it. With me now being one-eyed, I tend to rely on the clunk when it shuts or opens to let me know. This affects me in many ways, badly sometimes, when I have to genuflect or bend. I think I mentioned my problem with the dying neurotransmitter, a part of the PN, and either cannot pick anything up, or even at times let go of things. This may be a cause of the problem, and I can’t see or recognise when the valve has not been closed. The very kind and patient lady suggested we might try a different type of catheter and valve. If I heard and remember rightly, these have butterfly valves, and she thinks I may have more difficulty with these. But she will try to get some for me to try. Bless her cotton socks. Ignorantly, I’ve also forgotten her name and where she was from. I keep doing this. I’m rather skilled at it now. Huh!
The silliest thing I forgot was to ask for short-tubed ones; the normal or long ones really do make me off balance and dizzy, having to reach down so far to operate, take on or off, or remove the catheter. But I’d talked that much, I think I confused myself.
If she is reading this, I’m so sorry.

The night Carer arrived and again offered me just one Warfarin tablet, I’ll tell you about another farce I had over the missing Warfarin Record Card tomorrow. I kept searching for places I hadn’t looked for the Warfarin DVT dosage card. I even got up when I woke up early in the morning… honestly, I think I looked in the fridge? Strewth, I’m losing it!

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COMING TOMORROW…
Revealing the whereabouts…
of the Warfarin-INR-Dosages!
Dang, Dang,Dang, DANG!

I await my coming ventriculostomy,
Dream of becoming once again healthy,
But the chances of that are weeshy,
Today’s Ode is not at all a threnody
Not critical, mocking or snotty,
Despite my brain being slommacky,
I lived another day, and wrote this palinody
With nothing in it that is kvetchy!

Cheers & Thanks, Each
💟 Keep Safe & Well! 💟