I got carried away today… No, not the undertakers or men in white coats to blame. Har-har! It was a moment of freedom granted to my mind by VDD; Vascular Dementia Doreen. A cunning trick on her behalf to give me more grief, and it fooled and lured me into spending half an hour or so of heavenly pareidoliaing as the sunset faded for the day. And I took many photos of its progress, Bootiful! (Further down never the bottom of the blog.
But and however, she made me pay dearly for my moments of contentment. While viewing, photographing and admiring the beauty of Mother Nature through the kitchen window… I’d left the hot tap running. And dangerously accifauxpa-temptingly held in the evacuation that was brewing; So as not to miss the last photos as the darkness fell – But I had to rush off to the Porcelain Throne as things in the rear-end were starting of their own accord! Naturally, I failed to make it in time. Another mess to clean up! Which I did as quickly as I could to get back to the photographicalisationing. Which is when I noticed the hot tap (faucet) running. The water was cold by then. But the real pisser of them all? I missed the dawning of the darkness to picture. I do believe I swore vociferously! Ah, well, on with the diary…
Up at about 06:40hrs. I think the shock of a certain organ being extended, thus giving me great discomfort with the catheter, helped get me up and into wakefulness of sorts. I got the night pouch disconnected.
Went to wash the tube end, and the moon was still in view, so I snapped it wide and closer.
Not very well, mind.
Unbelievably, the day bag had reloaded with clear wee-wee.
I soon got it emptied.
Carer Richard arrived. Medications were given, and he reminded me of Thursday’s visit to the Mental Health Coppice Hospital. Now I must remember to ring Easy-Lift to make sure I have booked a lift. Before it is too late to do so. (Of course, I forgot to do it). Richard checked the taps and stove for me.
Ah, a bit of blood in the urine now. But it cleared up later. I caught the tube earlier, and it may have ripped the fungal lesion a bit. It hurt like hell. (I did this three more times in the afternoon and evening)
I received an email from Lisa at the Rehabilitation and Falls Service (South Locality). She is a caring lady. Asking many questions, which I probably went into too much detail in answering, now I think of it. But I answered them all. Bless her. Carer Sam arrived. Meds and safety checks were done. I was working on making mistakes, errors, misspellings and forgetting things on the blog.
Carer Kara called. Always helpful, that gal.
Teatime, I went to make a brew, and the sunset photo farce began. Here are the photos in the order they were taken; some zoomed in and some not. There are a good few; sorry if they bore you.
But I love them, even if they did cause the Porcelain Throne and tap to be left on scenarios. Hehehe!
I took a couple, one of the car park, the other of the houses, to break up the monotony for you.
Then back to the sky…
Then I had to tend to the Porcelain Throne farce.
Air Fryer tried arrived; good timing on my behalf. The frier-timer had about ten minutes left to go. Richard let me make the meal before he gave me the medications and put the night pouch onto the day bag for me. He took the waste bags with him. The chip putties were consumed with some tomato ketchup. The letdown (I usually get one of these regularly) was that the Lumix would not work for me at all. Well, it gave me a blank screen. I’ll try it again in the morning… but my hope is not high.
Good morning! Although it was not a great start to the day. There followed some great and careful help from the District Nurses. But the morning Carer did not show up. Ups and downs throughout the day. Betterer than yesterday. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind, I’ll have to just do the few that I photo’d. And miraculously found memories from the chronically badly scrawled notepad.
A blown bag of out-of-date chips burst open. I enjoyed cleaning them up.
‘Red sky in the morning – Shepherds Warning!
The pouch fills up quickly.
0845hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging.
09:15hrs: No Morning Carer Yet.
Decided to take the antibiotic tablet, just in case they do not come at all. (They didn’t) The Doctor said yesterday it is important to take them apart in equal time periods, morning &evening.
District Nurses came to replace the Catheter. I mentioned that no carer had called yet to give me the medications. I was assured that they will be coming. With it already being 11:00hrs, I was not exactly confident about this. They did a good job with the painful (to me) job of extracting and inserting the new tubing and catheter. Working well straight away. Thanked them and insisted on them taking some treats by way of a thank you. Off they went, and I returned to the slow frustrating job of working on this Thursday’s IT.
The new catheter was working well.
11:45hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging..
Carer Kara arrived later. I thought she had been up to the neck in it and was coming late from the early call, but no. She was not late. This was her mid-morning call. I explained about the antibiotics and my having taken them to keep the important timing right.
Kara gave me all the other medication that should have been issued earlier. We had a little natter as she checked the taps and the stove and took the waste bags with her as she departed.
Tea and porridge, and I watched some TV for a break from computing.
Getting darker earlier.
By gum, changing the catheter has worked as a real treat. Thanks to the two nurses. They sent two because they didn’t believe last week’s crew when they told them how tiddly Little Inchie really was. They do now!
I came over all tired and weary, just like I did the day before. I was so far behind with everything, but I had to just leave it and get my head down. I was suddenly shattered!
I was soon in the land of nod. Zzzz!
But not for long, for I felt the weight of the catheter pouch as I moved into a more -friendly position in the c1966 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner. I’m glad I did, cause as you can see above, the new catheter was flowing smoothly and persistently… which is good! There were only the very faintest signs of any blood, as well.
I think it was who came again. It may have been, and it could likely have been . Or, . I was so deep in sleep that I could not see much at all cause both eyes had fogged up; I couldn’t hear anything, whoever it was said, and with the ever-present ogre of…
Plaguing me in my current half-conscious state, I fear I recall but nothing of the Carer’s penultimate visit. Whoever it was. I assume I was given the medications. I did not as I remember getting out of the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner, for the whole visit. In fact, did it happen? Was I dreaming? Was someone toying with me in my ultra-sleep mode? Was I drunk – I don’t think I drank any alcohol. Unless it was in an out-of-body experience in my somniferous early evening temporary hibernation with Sweet Morpheus? Fair enough, I had been nibbling; the proof of that was the two four-pack biscuit wrappers I found crammed up my sleeve later. More of the nocturnal somnambulistic activities I seem to involuntarily enjoy?
I was struggling to stay awake throughout the gal’s visit. And was soon back in the dreamland within seconds of the Carer leaving. I was totally done for, tired, drained, and shot! To make things worse, I was aware that with all the visitors, and my lackadaisicalness, I’d not even started the blog off yet! I foolishly allowed myself to imagine I’d get up later and give it a go. It didn’t happen! I wasn’t feeling good at all.
I was not hearing, seeing, or understanding what was going on. And this is the second day of these experiences. I look back now, and a dreadful fear of not coping with Doreen and the ailments, and thus going into a home, scares the shit out of me!
Another deep, preciously removing the worries, fears and uncertainty of life. Bless Sweet Morpheus!
Shortly, and far too quickly, I was woken by the door chime. And in came the sweet Carer Sarah. Her mission? To giveth me medicationalisationings, and, and had soon for me, and set about and to the day pouch. On this rude awakening, thankfully, I was nowhere as out of it as I was on the earlier visit. I was definitely more responsive after I got over the shock of getting up too quickly. The eyes & hearing are still bad, though.
Sarah got the night bag fitted on. She emptied and washed the bucket from emptying the day catheter. Did the medicationings, and we had a little chat. She read some of the dates on the food in the fridge for me too. Bade her farewell at the door, and I locked it.
Then I decided to make a meal. Huh! One-handed, with the stick and night bag tagging along. It was a mistake. The meal was fine, but the mess I got into making it left me bruised and a mess all over the kitchen!
Eating away, enjoying the flavour, I dunked one of the cobs several times. Getting the second one, I broke it open… the greeny-yellow mould spewed out, and it fell with a splonk into the dish, tomatoes and ersatz franks! That was the end of the meal!
SATURDAY 4th FEBRUARY 2023
ANOTHER HORRENDOUSLY TIME-CONSUMING DAY.
A SPARSE PATCHY EFFORT TODAY FROM INCHIE, SORRY.
The catheter contents were locking mighty colour!
Up, Porcelain Throne, wash, and got a mug of tea and the last pot of porridge. Sob!
Care Sarah arrived, and she helped me clean up the spillage I’d just made when the blown bag of seasoned chips blew up! Hehe!. Pouch checked. Little natter.
Hours of blogging until the almost-expected weariness and mega-tiredness arrived. After that, I was drained and not good at anything. (I seem to remember my Dad telling me that?).
Burnt the stew that I was making. Left the kitchen hot tap running. When it warmed up in the PM, I left the damned hot water running in the wet room! Not a good day, and it got even worserer!
Sinking towards frustrated depression here! I went to put the photo’s on this blog, and can it be? They were not there on the SD card.
Then, for three days now, the mind went into muddled mode. Honestly, worrying this is. As I recall, I was washing the pots for the eventual meal I’d made for the second time…
Which wasn’t too bad. I found myself in the spare room, picking through my socks and seemingly sorting them? I carried on separating the short ones from the long ones for ages? It was like it wasn’t me, but a film I was watching? It has to be said Doreen Dementia is winning here! How do I explain this to the nurse next Tuesday; when she does the follow-up interview? Should I mention this or the following farce to her at all?
I actually left the junk room, and I started to make another meal!!! Until waking up on Sunday morning, everything was a blur. Ni idea who or if a Carer came, but the night catheter was comfortable, so I~ think either Sarah or Kara may have tended to it.
Due to circumstances beyond my Dementia, physical capabilities destruction, frustrating lack of control of my body and brain… Well, it sounded good to me. It’s true! Hehe! And the visit to the Doctor, which is just a blank in my mind now. Thanks to Dementia Doreen, I have never been so confused in my entire life about what going on around me as I do this morning (Friday); Time forced me to limit this Inchie Today diary. That old killer, ‘Time’, forces me to do this, Hope to be back to the old format later. Broken sleep dominated the day – as was being demanded from my body and brain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, mostly stolen from memory, distorted and warped by the avaricious, covetous, cruel Doreen Dementia, and hassles and complications from the
I’m only putting in what I think I know happened today. Up and in the wet room to tackle getting the ablutions done in readiness for the visit to the Doctor. Lift arranged with the Easy-Lift charity, volunteer drivers and a reasonable charge.
This session went fantastically well. Well, apart, that is, from the controlled evacuation. Not so much a torpedo, more like a nuclear submarine! Hahaha! But no bleeding with it. It felt so good to get a shave, shower etc., after so many days of inability to do so. But, this and the medicationalisationings, then dressing was timed. It took me 2hrs-25minutes! The longest ever! But at least I’m still doing it on my own. The main reasons were the catheter, extra time shaving, my not having had a shave for days, and the struggle.
I’m dreading it hewn Doreen gets worse, and I have to pay for some carer to clean me. When it comes to this stage, I don’t think I could cope with the, and perhaps , maybe even still having a catheter fitted as well, frightening! As the ever-present oink ruling the roost, I would not want to cope. Of course, it’s going to come. Not that I expect to be aware of it. So I decided to try and make the best of things until then.
Lost the plot there… off subject again. Sorry.
. Emptied the brilliant-looking urine, not a sign of any blood!
. Made a brew, and I took this morning’s view, too!
Arrived. A little vague on this visit for some reason. Maybe we talked of things that worried or concerned me, and I went into denial mode and filed memories away from my own grasp? But this happened later in the day at the Doctors and is a new trait that conceivably I can expect in the future?
Got the outer clothing on and readied to go to catch the lift. I checked the taps, heating, stove etc., and then I rechecked them. Down to the lobby. The Easy-Link minibus arrived two minutes later. And ~I was on my way to Carrington and the Sherrington Park Medical Practice. The fiver dropped me at the entrance; I thanked him and went into the surgery with my EQ telling me this would not go well. Naturally, no details, He sometimes gives a type of upset, jealousy, fear, greed or something of that nature as a guide for me. He was right!
Worryingly, a ‘Haze’ Came over me when the man spoke to me when I got into the room with him. EQ was talking gibberish to me in the background throughout the meeting? As I said, this was worrying! No idea why or what caused this, but I spent the rest of the day in this state. Utter confusion, what the hell was going on? Was all I recall thinking?
Bits and pieces of the session remain, but others are vague and mixed up in the ether of my brain. I may not have these memories in order, but they are all I came out of the hour-long meeting with, and I’m the least confident about actually having happened.
❶ I’ve got to stop taking Ibuprofen. ❷ Something about letting me have some Haemorrhoid cream. The Doctor consulted, and she said I didn’t need it? ❸ He wants me to take the BP twice a day & record it for him. ❹ I’m sure they issued a prescription electronically for some anti powders. I mentioned that I could not fetch them today as I had an Easy-Link picking me up. ‘Why can’t you?’ He asked. ‘Because they cannot digress from the arranged route, or they are not covered by their insurance, you see.’ I replied. Your Carers should fetch it then. ❺ The only other bit I recall is telling him about the problems with the catheter, but he stopped me, ‘You must talk to Urology about that. Phone them; the number is in the book and on the web!’
I departed, and got an Easy-Link lift home at a reasonable price, thinking clarity would return once I got home. It didn’t!
. I took this photo when I made a brew of Glengettie. I’ve no idea why, but it may come back to me.
My body was demanding sleep all of a sudden. I agreed and got the clothes off and the dressing gown on, and with drooping eyelids, I got into the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and was in a deep sleep very quickly.
The carer came to give me Peptac and Paracetamol. I was soon back asleep. Zzzz!
The Night Carer, Sarah, I think it was, came to put the on to the day pouch.
But; Houston, we have a problem…
The rubber attachment on the end of the , was longer on the end of the day pouch? So the gal could not possibly even try to have . Without her fitting a new day pouch. Which is not on her remit. The gal was a little concerned about what to do. I settled her nerves and told her to leave it. Hopefully, a nurse is calling tomorrow to check the new catheter; and may change it for us.
I nodded off again. Up around 01:30hrs to make a meal. Food balancing on my belly, Wobbling on my knee, I turned on the telly, Contented gastronomically,. Again, I felt sleepy… There was no stopping me… Zzzz!
I woke at 041:00 hours, still feeling tired. Had to empty the pouch and use the . So I stayed up.
06:20hrs: Woke and removed the Catheter Night Pouch. And well-bloodied it was. Tummy ache.
Amazed at how many times the photos of the Catheter Bags seemed to have faces, figures of animals, and other objects on them. Can you see the mousse in this one? I’m worried about the pains still coming from the guts and Little Inchie. And, of course, the thick blood in the urine.
Emptied the Night Catheter bag in the WC.
Took this photo when making a mug of tea.
Carer Richard arrived, and he got the medications given to me. Told him about the blood in the urines again and how it was even redder than yesterday… or less brown, mayhap.
The blood coming into the Day bag seemed thicker than ever?
Back to the Wet Room to use the Porcelain Throne. Found that the bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was worse than ever before. The tube was tugging at it. I imagine.
The Co-op delivery arrived. Not a lot this time.
Yee Gods! The Day Pouch had filled up already, and I’d not been drinking the water, cause I was sorting the food out? Better get it empties…
The overloaded pouch only let me release a tiny drop of blood & urine. Then the release valve seemed to stop working! I could be in trouble here cause the bag is so full will only block the bladder with the stake blood in it. No wonder I had a tummy ache! I tried to ring the Meridian Office, but no answers to the three calls I made. So, I called the District Nurse’s number. As I was explaining my problem… The bloody valve in the catheter opened itself… Blood and urine-soaked slippers, socks, and feet, as well as over the carpet. What a state I got into cleaning it up… well, trying to! You can see the blood clot in the above picture that shot out first. followed by a torrent of urine & blood. Argh!
The lady at the District Nurses HQ said she was sending someone around to take a look at things for me and rang off.
I continued to try and get myself, and the place cleaned up. But the stretching and bending, even though I was using kitchen towels wrapped around the picker-upperer, started Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, the Mystery Rib Pains, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and a lengthy Dizzy Dennis attack off. I was not in a good state at that moment. Half an hour later, I was washing the wee-wee bucket. and a nurse arrived, a pretty nurse, too. I was in a bit of a state panic-wise, so didn’t get her name… or maybe I did but forgot it. Yes, that sounds likely to me!
The nurse listened while I told her the sequence of events. Took a photo of the blood clot and date on the guilty pouch. Most annoyed at the Catheter Pouch being changed, asked me if they knew (Carers, I imagine) that the bag must be changed every seven days. That’s what it is designed for, no longer; seven days is the limit permitted. Doreen Dementia intervened, and I could not answer her. The pains were not helping me to concentrate. She told me to ring if had any other problems.
An interesting photo here. No idea what it’s of. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel! The new bag filled up quickly again.
Emptied the pouch.
Took a snap of the much-missed-visiting tree copse.
I see an image in this picture of the day bag. Can you?
This one reminded me of Telstar.
The new shape of the pouches was noted. No faces or images were seen.
Back to the Porcelain Throne. Wearing the just emptied day bag. The blood flowing in looked like veins. Haha!
The bag keeps filling up so quickly?
An hour after emptying it.
Carer Sam arrived on a safety visit. Later, Carer Kara arrived for the late medicationalisationings. We had a quick natter, she was very busy.
Carer Richard came for the late check. He got the night bag fitted.
I pressed on with this blog until around 02:00hrs. Then got my head down.
Back in the morning – Hopefully.
Arrived and to the day one. Checked the taps and stove, then took the waste bags for me.
It’s been an… erm, er… well. an interesting month so far. I’ve been given a rubber wristlet for DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). A Diabetes rubber wristlet. These will decorate my wrists along with the On Warfarin, Allergic To Clopidogrel, Hard of Hearing, and the new last week, Dementia alert bands. The Cataract – Vision – Impaired one has not arrived yet. I’ve checked the box of the options on the Doctor’s letter. In answer to the Question: Where Would You Like To Die, at Home or in a Hospital?
Now after the initial rushing me into the hospital when I woke up with blood coming from Little Inchie and the Haemorrhoid-ridden rear end. I think this was four weeks ago. The Paramedics took to the QMC, A&E.
Where the medicos must have forced two gallons of warm water down my throat to get the wee-wee flowing through Little Inchy, as opposed to Catheter Cathy’s Contraption. I had the catheter put in and taken out about six times, which for me with Phimosis and the Fungal Lesion – not to mention having the smallest willy I’ve ever seen (I’ve seen ten-year-olds with a bigger one than I). This is why the in and the outing of the tube were so painful for me. And it really was testing my pain limit… mind you, it still is at this very moment. I was on the computer and listening to the new tenant’s TV blasting away upstairs. (I assume. He or she might be getting the flat sorted, which accounts for the occasional clunks and thuds. Herbert Mark Two? Haha!
No problem, though; I’ll get used to it. Just take out the hearing aids. They did bladder scans, and some on a big machine. But gave up and sent me to the City Hospital Urology Department. Patience Ward Two.
Where Patience was at a premium. Urology was just as baffled as the QMC staff were. They had the catheter in and out over the next day, at least eight times; despite gulping down at least two gallons of water, getting to use Little Inchie for wee-weeing was a failure. They (Urology) summoned me back to have a… I’ve forgotten what it was called now.
Ah, I’ve got it now (just looked it up on the Internet). A Cystoscopy, a CT scan of the urinary tract, and a urine culture. Still, no reason was found, so the catheter has now been on for about 4-5 weeks. The walk to the Doctor, half a mile at most, took me nearly two hours! I had to keep stopping cause the pain was so bad. I got the surgery, told the Doctor, and hose said: “Talk to Urology”. It’s great to be so cared for, innit? Anyway, since the tumble I had getting on the trolly at the hospital, week one: I had another fall. Week two: two Accifauxpas. Week three: Just the one; it wasn’t a bad one. Week four: Three tumbles, and two, one seriously, walking-into-solid-objects. The wet room door, and then the junk room door frame. Which started and produced a , that had me over – but I fell on the two bags of laundry that has not been collected. I’m glad they were days late now. Hehehe! Today, the wee-wee into the bags seemed a little better. I reckon I’ve emptied the around ten times! And the blood in it was far less than yesterday’s was. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe… perhaps! The attaching did not take place. No Carer arrived to attach it for me. I believe they were struggling with staffing problems and possibly the hospitalisationing of another tenant. No bother, I kept waking up overnight anyway, and I remembered to check the small day bag each time. Emptied it three times. No sweat!
With all the nocturnal activities of emptying the pouch, I didn’t get up until 07:30hrs. Little sluggard! The was at bursting point, I managed to get it emptied before any disaster!
arrived as I was making a brew. Got the medications sorted, and he helped me ready the bin bags for him to take. Said how busy he was.Thanked him profusely.
I left the hot water tap running again!
The pain from Little Inchie was still bad and stayed that way all day & night. and cobblers!
thenCame at teatime.
Late morning view.
and later came.
Mid-Morning views. A lot of white cars?
Catheter emptying. Nice and like colour this moring.
Magnificent Sunsetting this evening!
Catheter is ready for emptying. Is that a twinge of blood in there, I see?
Sunset bying down… Eerie colours changing… Still beautiful… A minute later, the last blast from the dying sun…
Looks like a two-tone of blood in the Catheter… That’s a better piccy. But look at the blood in it!!! Argh!
Started emptying it – rich red blood… Looks to be thinning at the end… Almost bubbling now? Can you see a cat’s face in there?
Starting to make the evening Meal and, arrived. He was looking fitter tonight but not a happy laddie. But soon cheered up when he got the new night bags to put on the day pouch. These ones had the plastic grip so you could hang them up. Sorted the medications, and we had a little chinwag. Np putting the world to rights, but we did manage a bit of cheer for each other.
When the night bag was on, the blood started to flow in dribs and drabs. But, oh so slowly. The long extension tube often stops the flow, and I feel the build-up in my bladder, and have to shake the blood through.
Richard showed me how to use the Air-Fryer, and he put some alphabet potato letters in it and left to get on with his other jobs.
Fifteen minutes later, the fryer gave out a ping that, luckily, I was in the kitchen to hear. What an alarm timer with one ping, and that was my lot! The potato letters tasted great, all crispy on the outside. The spuds I did in the slow cooker. The tomatoes were just about acceptable tastewise (Italian, not good this time of year). And the ersatz mini-franks were surprisingly excellent! Soya based methinks
I’D LIKE TO THANK A FEW PEOPLE FOR THEIR HELP TODAY No particular order, but I feel it right to mention them and their help. Which is in the brief diary below. I thank you! Carer Richard, Carer Sam, Carer Charly, Carer Jozeph. Lisa, from the Rehab & Falls Team. Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Prima Ballerina, Warden Deana. Meridian’s Tina. The Engineer who fitted the flood and cooker arms for me. Neighbour Malcolm, he got the keyboard working again for me. Neighbour Jenny, a caring lady, it was she who donated the painkillers. And the Ocado driver for taking the food through to the kitchen for me.
And anyone I may have missed off the list.
I woke and checked the Catheter bag, which had been emptied about two hours earlier. so not much in it… but there was a fair percentage of blood in the urine again? A bit worrying.
Hours later, and this was all that was in the pouch? I noticed some more clots of blood in there again.
Carer Richard, who sorted the heavy-medication doses for me. Checked the taps and stove. Gave me a minute or two chin-wagging. Carer Sam came to sort the mid-morning medications. Carer Charly in the afternoon.
Took this to catch the shadow of the flats.
The mist thickened later on.
Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Prima Ballerina, Warden Deana and an engineer arrived. The chap, with a nice personality, soon had the flood and cooler alarms fitted and had to go to do some others. Thanks, mate.
Got a pot of porridge out and put it on the counter to remind me next time I make a cuppa, to have it for a late breakie. Hehe!
Took this shot of Chestnut Way.
Started getting the blog updated, and… What didn’t go wrong? The Internet went down. Little Inchies fungal lesion started pouring with blood! Took me ages to get it stopped and medicated. Then it must have been an hour to clean the wet room!. I thought, being as I was in there, I’d get the ablutions done… I then needed the Porcelain Throne… the door was open, so I heard the landline phone ringing in the other room… No way I could get to it in time… why? I’ll tell you… I was in mid-evacuation – tried to rush things best I could… Got a bit too keen on wiping the rear end… And caught Little Inchy, started him bleeding again! Wrapped toilet paper around him and was about to try and get to the phone in time, and realised the Catheter had filled up, had to empty it. The phone stopped ringing, of course, before I’d even got to the doorway. More attention to Little Inchie is needed. Cleaned up the rear end from the attempted emergency evacuation. And got the toothbrush into action. The broken tooth started bleeding, and ♫Oh, Susana♫ chimed from the front door. I assumed it was a carer, so just closed the wet room door… But it chimed again – I struggled into the dressing gown and got to the front door, opened it, and not a soul in sight – I was too late! What next is going to go wrong, I thought. I’ll tell yer!
I cut myself shaving and dropped my spectacles; they now have an adornment of sellotape on the frame joint. Then the expensive carbolic soap I was using shot out of my wet fingers and sploshed into the WC without touching the sides! I can’t believe what’s happening here, thought I – surely it can’t continue like? It’s madness! But it did! I tried to keep calm and carefully started the Hemerine medicationalisationings. Grumblegrobbledamn! The landline rang again, and I hastened to answer it; after all, it may have been about the cataract or Glaucoma operation… or the Coppice Hospital Brain scans… or the DVT vein-bleeding… or about the missing painkillers… or the missing ? But, No! It was a bloody scam call, pretending they were from Amazon, telling me my Prime Benefits had been Cancelled – Grrr! Back to the wet room, fumingly! On with the medicationings. Got sorted and dressed, and realised the phoo and ablutions, with all the farcicalisations and interruptions, had taken me over two hours, and that was without having a shower!
I exited the torture room and went to make a brew and eat the porridge.
. Then noticed that the urine had gone bloody again? When I emptied the pouch the previous two times, it was clear???
. The afternoon or near tea time now view was a miserable one.
Carer Charly arrived in a rush, but we managed a much-needed laugh.
Pressing on but not doing very well at it with the blog.
Carer Joseph arrived and got the new night bag attached to the catheter day bag in no time. He was eager to get off, but when I mentioned that I could not find my other dressing gowns in the laundry returned, we went to have a look, and he found them, then hung them up where I keep them in the front room on hangers. Bless him. I felt a bit guilty for delaying him. They all seem busy today. Bless them. Short-handed? Thanks to them all.
. I took this terrible but pretty all the same, photo of the view.
Little Inchy started reacting to the inserted tubing again, and I took an Ipobrufen and Paracetamol to try and ease the pain. Of course, the night bag would be pulling at it (Little Inchy) more now.
More haphazard, mistake-filled work on the blog.
. Went to get the nosh warmed up and took another shot of the evening view from the kitchenette.
The Chillie – will I keep awake to eat it, though? Hehehe!
What a treat this was! Chilli-Con-Carne (canned). Boiled some spuds earlier and added them, a can of garden peas, sliced some tomatoes, and BBQ sauce and added them to marinate with the meal for three hours, then tucked into it! Taste-Rating: 9.3.10! I ate most of it. Hahaha!
Sweet Morpheus was unkind to me in the extreme tonight
I’m hoping that a supply of a new , or even a week’s supply, will arrive today. Single-use only the night catheters, the day ones for seven days, I think. But it’s 17:15 hours already. Maybe one or some has gone to the Meridian office and will be brought by a night carer to fit for me? My fingers are crossed on that!
A prayer to get the last week’s two bags of laundry done as well. A talk with Mr G about the possibility of getting the bleeding and pain stopped from . My fingers are crossed on that one as well!
The immediate concern is over my Kryptonite – Sleep! Two hours was all I got last night – and no chance of catching up on it presented itself today. Dependent on whether or not I can get a or not is vital! If perchance, one doesn’t arrive (Albeit the chances are it will), I’m going to be in dire straits, up the creek without a paddle, up a gum tree, in the soup, harassed, a bag of nerves, and a very tired & frustrated old chap!
And to think, when I met the doctor yesterday to copy for the DNR option, she asked if I’d sooner die at home or in a hospital? If she knew about the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me; she’d not have asked me in the first place. Hehehe!
Anyroad, another getting nothing done day here in Del Trotter Towers flats. Fair enough, there was the usual bleeding, confusionalitis, frustrations and possibly an increase in moments of self-loathing. But I’m too tired to go into them at this moment. Here is the pathetic Inchie Today Diary.