Another ran out-of-time-day. Sorry if it is out chronologically, mistakes-wise or if other errors appear. Mostly been created from photos and what few memory notes I scribbled – the brain seems to have gone on strike! It’s the in thing nowadays!
Took the catheter bag of myself this morning – I had to cause the need of the Porcelain Throne was urgently needed, and with the other clarities etc., over the last two days with tripping and treading on the tubing, I thought it best.
Over the first hour of actioning, my magnificent muscular, fit handsome body from the terrible night’s sleep, I had to use the Throne no less than four times! Every one of them was messy and gooey, with cleaning ups needed.
After the first session, I decided to get the ablutioning done.
Part way through, I was trying to stop the third shaving cut from bleeding at the time; I had to use the Throne again.
Suddenly flooded the mouth, I think I must have broken off a bit of tooth near the gum. I got up automatically to get some toilet paper to use to stem the flow… but the evacuation was still taking place.
I did genuinely feel .Nothing new there, then!It took me ages to clean up again, and I was beginning to get self-irritated!
Back to the front room, now attired in my day clothes but no socks, I’ll ask my mate to help with those. A bit nippy this morning.
After a while of computing, the catheter started itching. The catheter bag’s elastics had dropped down the leg.
However, Richard arrived then. He got the medications sorted and told me I had to take the new Antibiotic course again, starting now. So, I did.
He then told me, as I showed him the calendar… I’d put the Catheter removal on a wrong day, it was today, not tomorrow, so I changed it.
I asked him if he’d help me get the specks on, please.
He said it would be best to ask the nurse/s when she/they take off
the catheter to put them on for you. To avoid any hassle while removing it? So I said I would. I’ll get something right today… surely I must?
Gave him some treats in thanks, and Richard checked the taps and stove.
Off he sent on his rounds. Bade him all the best and thanked him.
An hour or so later, when I was busily making cock-ups, and mistakes and forgetting what it was I was going to write after correcting the grammar I’d already written… I think? The was needed again.
But this time, unlike the eleven visits I’d made yesterday, had lost his grip on the process, and from nowhere, unexpectedly, my old friend had taken over command…
I was getting fed up with getting nowhere with the crosswords for ages. Counter the cracks on the ceiling… even had to give up on that. and are getting slowly worse. I picked my nose, whistled, and eventually, a mini-evacuation shot out of its own accord – the movement was over in seconds! annoying somehow.
Ah, a Highlight Event!
The beautiful DVT-Warfarin Haematology nurse arrived as I was getting off of the . I thought at first it was the door chime ringing, and rushed to get the trews up, got out of the wet room door (And casually shoulder charged the door frame as I left the room), and realised it was the intercom going (It being lit-up helped me notice it, Hehe!)
Hristina asked me how the hospital visit went as she came in. Now that was lovely of her! ♥ And she listened when I told her, too! Wonderful!
Computing again. I decided this time, I would focus on a venom. I was tenacious in my determination to concentrate on what I was trying to do.
I think I went into a slight . It didn’t last long…
Mistakes, ha! Sometimes I see them as thumbing my nose at the puritans. That phrase I stole from a fellow WordPress blogger & poet named Paul. Thanks, mate! I’ve been waiting for a suitable time to use it. (And remember it!
Visits from, and a nasty, but very rare in a sat down position put an end to my planned venture into pretending I could be capable again.
Instead of acting like a wordsmith and getting on with the blogging, I had to go to the wet room to try and stop bleeding. Yes, the dance had tugged at the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… bloody? Bloody sore at this moment still! Even delicate might be the word. Tsk!
But it turned out lucky that I did go to the wet room.
The catheter pouch was on the point of bursting, I think. Again, I had a job to pull up the trouser leg, so dropped them instead and emptied the bag
I decided to get the potato out of the crock-pot. checked that it was cooked before she checked the taps and turned off the heater for me.
I sliced the overcooked potato and got it in the oven with the last of the potato rostis in the oven to crisp them up. The last of the tomatoes and the vegan frankfurters (which tasted great!) and along with the last of the pots of strawberry jam thingumajig dessert.
Later, not sure what happened between this and the last thing, a touch of , methinks.
I do recall taking these pictures, though. I’m pretty sure I took them in SCN Handheld Nightshot Mode.
Not that they came out very well, although the bottom one of the car park was not too bad. A touch of eeriness about it? Obviously, the first one was taken like that on purpose. Ahem!
Arrived for the late-night call, and I was watching TV.
We had a little natter, and Richard changed the catheter night bag.
We had a minute or two of pleasant nattering away, but the lad was ready for his bed, bless his cotton socks. I went with him, catheter bag in hand, to the door and locked it when Rich had left. They don’t like me doing this, but I can’t get the picture of the yobboes who came into the flat one night. If the key-safe would work for use, it would not be a problem.
Then I got on the computer again, re-determined to get it done.
Not sure how I managed to take this photo. It must have been as I was on the computer, and the TV was still on. Trigger-Finger Problems? Hehe!
Rotten night again. Forever waking up with a jolt! .
06:10hrs: I woke up in the usual fashion with a jerk after having already woken up several times in a similar fashion. Had a wee-wee, quick wash, utilised the , the first time, which was followed by four more by midday! Changed into socks, PP’s, trews and dressing gown.
The second visit to the, . Made a brew of Glengettie.
Got some spuds cooking in the slow cooker.
Got the fridge dates checked. There were some I could not see or decipher, thanks to , and the foggy, not to mention .
Took a snap of a large number of vehicles this morning down on Chestnut Way in front of the Woodthorpe Court block of flats.
Made up some waste bags; I had to dish even more of the Asda potatoes that had gone green overnight.
Got the computer on and had a go at the free find three logos competition.
Not doing any worse this year; my record stays a two (February).
All other times it was one, like today.
Got on CorelDraw and Word to make this template.
Back for the 3rd visit.
Then an amazing thing happened. What a Shock!
Mr Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down. Humph!
How do they get away with it, being such rubbish and overcharging idiots like me for a pathetic service? And Fries still gets his phenomenal salary and guaranteed bonus?
Not that I’m jealous of the Smoke & Mirrors; financially manipulative man, of course.
Arrived, and it was nice to see him. He was yawning at the end of his shift. Got the medications sorted, and we had a mini-natter. He checked the taps, stove and lights left on for me. Richard found some medications out of date, which we wrapped and threw away.
number four visit was activated. this time, only just got there in time. This is a problem because I need to go out to get some money. At this rate, I dare not go out, but will still need the cash to keep paying bills. A dilemma here!
Made a brew of Glengettie tea and eventually got back on the computer. Updated the Sunday blog and sent it off to WordPress.
and Ty arrived for the second check visit. Ty helped me with the Amazon confusion I was in. I took another Paracetamol cause the bladder was still playing up pain-wise.
Rang out, and the DVT Warfarin nurse came in and did the INR blood test for me.
A different nurse this time seemed in a rush, but pleasant enough.
Visit number five was attended to. With the evacuations in control of Trotsky Terence and a few close calls, I may have to leave getting out to get some cash for fear of getting caught out? Leaving me in a quandary: if things are the same tomorrow?
I got a text message from Asda telling me of the shortages and substitutes on today’s order. Oh, dearie me… Another cock-up on my behalf! I thought I’d cancelled this order when I made the one for Sunday. Apparently not!What a clot! In fact, this got me self-hating and cursing at myself!
As I made a start on this template, I changed my mind. And decided to get the done instead. Fancy me equivocating? Ahem! Off to the wet room with the clothing needed for after. Hope the shower still works and there is enough hot water to get a shave safely.
Commenced: The visit… erm, six is it? Was needed. I’m becoming something of an expert on the Throne! Hehe! Good job I didn’t go out to get some cash, after all.
My fears of the shaving cuts were right. At least eight cuts were gleaned; I thought I was going to break the record… but it was close. Another couple and I would have.
The showering was a little farcical all around. Hit my head on the power box – Twice! Dropped the picker-upperer when trying to retrieve the loofah and then head-butted the tiles when I lost my balance bending down to get it! All this pales into insignificance compared to the pain that came from , and him getting crushed in the process! Crying was an option I had considered at the time…
But getting out of the shower and stubbing my against seemed to be more important at that specific time. The language that I spouted was crude, common, foul and naughty! So much so that I surprised myself, and a sense of guilt overcame me. I gave myself a lecture for being so generic in my vocabulary.
Then, I dropped the bleach bottle as I was cleaning the bowl… no need to say what started again, is there? !!!
When getting dressed and pulling up the trousers with the picker-upperer, I dropped it and unthinkingly bent down to try and catch it – The only thing I achieved was . How I didn’t cry, explode or commit suicide, I don’t know for sure.
I was giving the much splashed with wee-wee WC a clean and disinfecting with Dettol, and arrived. I think if I could have got the tie on the trouser waist undone in time, all this would not have been necessary?
Jo-Anne got the medicines sorted out and issued. We had a little natter, and off she had to go. I think she checked the taps during the visit, as she helped me sort out wet room things. Bless her!
As Jo-Anne was leaving, three letters arrived, and she handed them to me.
The first was from the NHS Hazelwood, The Coppice Hospital. I assume this is for the first brain Scan to be done. I hope they find one; cause Dementia Doreen certainly has done!Haha!
The second was the INR Results; at first, I thought there was no way they could have gotten this to me on the same day? It turned out to be the one done on 28th November! No wonder I couldn’t find it when the nurse asked me for it earlier.
The last letter was the bill for the Carers services. It says the cost to pay will be £354.24…
I’m bloody fed up with myself at the current moment. I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running… again. AGAIN!
Everyday life is such a battle nowadays.
Peripheral Neuropathy, Diabetes, Neurotransmitters dying. The eye problems’, Saccades-Sandra, Glaucoma Gladys, Cataracts Katie. And mayhap the worst conundrum of them all, Doreen’s Dementia. With Duodenal Donald, Ann Gyna, Reflux Roger, and now the temporary members of my Ailments Club as well.
, Bladder Belinda, Trotsky Terence, Colin Cramps, Toe-Stubbing Thomas. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Devlin’s Deafness, and occasionally the Mind-Blanks… All are liable to attack at any time… ad do too!
Take the PN-inspired, I wish someone would take them. They can last from a few seconds to at night when lying down, half an hour or so. Most embarrassing when I am, say, in a bus queue in Bulwell, everyone else in the shelter scattered when the leg dance kicked off, and a minute later, a policeman appeared looking askance at me, asking if I’d be drinking or taking drugs! I’m talking myself into a depression here! I’d better leave this subject now.
The unexpected Asda delivery arrived after had not long gone.
The deliveryman took the things through to the kitchen for me and put them in the boxes as well.
I happened to see the four substituted for Cottage Pies, Lasagnas and asked him to take them back, which he did gladly enough; bless him.
The potatoes that arrived yesterday, had all gone green now and had to be thrown away.
Today’s lot looked a lot fresher, though.
They substituted semi-skimmed weak milk for the full cream again. The coffee for the nurses and carers that were not available yesterday but did arrive today.
On yesterday’s order, I’d asked for three different types of bread and got none.
I did better today; I asked for the same three but got one. The Sourdough rolls.
I had a heck of a job-making room in the fridge to get the food in it.
Unfortunately, there were so many items that either did not have a sell-by date on them (that I could find), or the printing was just not big enough for me to recognise.
One good thing, though, is I might be near-bankrupt with all this massive Dementia Doreen-inspired food buying, but I shouldn’t starve for a while anyway. Hehehe!
The two more packs of the Asda brand Soya Lemon Yoghourts are now ensconced with yesterday’s two packs, and I now have sixteen mini tubs of the stuff. I must ask Richard or one of the other carers to check on the use-by or best-before dates on them for me.
I’ve got a pack of the new BBQ beans in the saucepan, with some 7-Vegetable sauce added, some soya bacon bits, and finally, a good splodge of BBQ sauce will be added when I get around to eating it for supper.
Arrived on his evening checking visit. He asked what I was cooking, saying it smelled nice… I’d left the heat on the saucepan and the oven on! Good job that Richard called. Most likely, he saved the meal for me. I added the mushrooms to the bean stew, ready to heat up later I was deep in concentrating on doing this blog, and smelt nowt? The look in Richards’s face said, erm… well… . Hehehe! Richard took the waste bags with him after we’d had a little natter.
I used the tablet splitter to half a few Warfarins in advance for the carers for a few days. I don’t want them slicing their fingers.
I realised I’d forgotten to put this photo on the blog. So I did. Better late than never. I think I took this about 05:00hrs, or thereabouts, as the street lights on Mansfield Road were just being turned on. Then, I turned off the computer and concentrated on getting the bean & potato meal prepared for consumption. I’d added some Ben’s liquid smoke into the potatoes, which were cooked in the crock-pot for over eleven hours on low. So they absorbed the flavour into the skin and tasted Wunderbar! As did the mixture of BBQ beans, soya imitation bacon bits and the 7-Mediterranean vegetable sauce with basil passata. Thought I’d made too much at first, but I masticated my way through it and ate the lot of it! Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, lovely!
Washed the pots, settled down, and sleep came easily. And this time, I only woke up jerkily four times during the night. Grrreat!
05:00hrs: I sprang almost energetically awake for the umpteenth time. Grasping what brain cells were active, I pondered over getting up or nodding off again.
The decision was made the moment I sensed movement from the rear end building up, followed by a wet emission of air! A sort of long silent phlutt!
The stomach ache had all but gone while I was motionless trying to kip, but the very second I moved to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, the agony returned. Off to the .
: ❶ Fumbling, I tried to get into the wet room ASAP, for the action was starting on its own accord.
❷ I hit my shoulder on the door frame, that set of .
❸ The tie on the trousers got stuck, and I could not get the pants down in time!
❹ Before I’d serried on the Throne, the action started. And it was in full control of . Semi-liquid. You can imagine the mess I had to clean up!
❺ Just to add to the confusion, when I was mopping and disinfecting, I knocked over the glass bottle of olive oil. Yes, it broke this time!
Trying to clean up an olive-oiled wet room floor is not easy, I can tell you. Thank heavens for loads of kitchen towels I had in and the super picker-upperer to use.
Then, Oh, the joy of joy…
❻ I needed to use the again! But being where I was at the time, about 6 inches away from the Throne, I got things down in plenty of time.
I think the Urine Infection has moved to the bladder?
I took a couple of morning photographs from the kitchenette window.
The top one is a little blurry, but the sky looks just as it does in the photograph.
O hung out of the window smidge to take this shot of the car park on Chestnut Way.
I went back to the wet room with as much haste as I could muster. Far better this time. I got all settled well before the Trotsky Terence controlled semi-liquid flowed from the innards!
Being in the wet room again, I decided to do the ablutions.
No doer, it was a little early for using the noisy shower yet.
Do, I had a strip wash, teggies and shave.
I’m not sure for certain, I couldn’t see the nape of the neck, but I reckon I got away with just two nick shaving! .
I think the legs and ankles looked a lot better.
Pale yet blotchy skin, yes, and the toes peripherals were still a different colour to the rest of the foot.
I then tackled, mayhap one of the riskiest of dressing jobs! Sock Glide Glenda! And came out of it… ready for this? UNINJURED! And that was after putting on a pair of long Diabetic bamboo socks, as well. DOUBLE … No Triple!
Arrived, not seen him for a while. We had a natter after he did the medicationing. He checked the taps were not left running, and took the waste bags with him for me.
Got a message from George-Asda, telling me that the dressing gowns will be coming today between 12:00@14:00hrs. It’s now 13:35hrs; we’ll see.
I went through this yesterday, and it is telling me it’s on its way. Oh, of course, it never came. I have little confidence in them.
Eventually, I got the Saturday blog sent off to WordPress. My friend Bill had done a blog. I had a look at it, liked it, and commented. Civil rights; Gone wrong in the USA.
Came for the short check visit. Gave me the Peptac and a Paracetamol. Checks the taps, and he departed. Nice lad.
I’d finished the blackcurrant spring water and delved into the c1962 Hopewells sideboard, with the hanging-off door and unclosable drawers, and started on the Tonic Water with added orange juice.
I saw the Haribo marshmallows and was sorely tempted. But resisted!
Got the done.
Return figures I put them in the NHS analyser and was pleased to see that they were still in Hypertension – 1 Red.
I sense that the figures will improve.
Not the foggiest idea of how or why, but it seems that my EQ s confident that things will improve? We shall see tomorrow!
Hello, back to the , better this time.
Arrived. Did the checks.
Then I got settled to watch the England v Senegal match.
Not a great match. Senegal was, at times, the superior side, I thought. It was hard work, but the lads got through it.
My worry now is if they play the same against France, it’s not going to be a pretty thing.
Arrived after the match had finished. Nice to see him again.
Tried to get to sleep, but it wasn’t good. Kept constantly waking up with a jump.
Best as I could recall, it would have been about five o’clock when I went to put the kettle on to make a Welsh brew of Glenghetti tea.
This Ode writ to show yer the wee-wee rate today!
While doing the brewing, A mug of tea ensuing, The bladder continued bubbling… Took one photo. and off for a peeing, Washed, back to photographing, Tea had done brewing… Got out the milk & off for a wee-weeing! Out of the wet room singing…
Forgot the tea, did the binning,.
Ah, the tea, which was now freezing,
Still, it didn’t matter to me.
Weeing, It was not free-flowing…
I could be in the shit; you see! Hehe
Ouzzat!Back-Down to High-Normal!
And, I not long since when taking the shower shaving routine, that my right hanging-sack is swollen and so tender. Humph! I presume from the effects of the urine infection or whatever it is. As the wee-wee rate was dropping. The swelling and pain started coming and still getting worse. Typical, I get an appointment, then find that I can’t get an Easy-Link bus; the poor devils are out of volunteers. It’ll be dodgy on the buses, but I’ve no choice. Finding it a lot harder to see things now, like traffic, walls, kerb, and bus stops, and have to manoeuvre around the 3-wheeler walker trolley. Do you know, I’m genuinely nervous about going out, not being able to see or hear.
About 45 wee-wees later, I’d stopped drinking before going to the doctor and got things ready to go. But if the Carer is any later I may miss the bus… “I may miss the bus!”! You may not believe the farce that took place… However, by way of a cheer, the had developed what a work of an art form is. I felt like it must be a label or something that could be pulled off? Off course, in my condition, there was no way I could reach it anyway – and should I have tried, my right onion bag would have likely burst as I swashed it, getting down to it. Not to mention the agony it would have given me. Hehehe! Believe me, it gave me plenty of chance for the odd Argh! Winching & cursing throughout the day and night! Arrived, and I asked him if he could help me with getting the does on, Or to be more precise, fasten the velcro on them. TY was happy enough to do that for me. I waffled too much, and the lad forgot to give me the second Omeprazole table, my fault. Treats selected in, on my insistence, thanks. Took the waste bag with him as he left. I wandered of again there, sorry. Now, it was now up to me to get to the bus on time. And I did too! My left side lips gave a slight curl upwards. Initially, I did, but the Swaggering blossomed.
I caught the 40 bus to go down Winchester Street, get off on Mansfield Road, and catch another bus into Carrington, where the Sherrington Park Medical thingamabob is. When a lady got on who I’d not seen for ages, I started a chinwag with her. As she got to get off, I realised that we were on top of Mapperley Plains Activated, and I got off with her but could not catch her up. I was in a mental flap of sorts, concerned about being late for the appointment. This kindest lady came to me and asked me if I was alright. I explained my big , and she asked if she could call a taxi for me. Bless Her! And she did. A taxi arrived in about three minutes and put the trolley walker in the boot and me in the back, and we were soon arriving at the surgery. Phew! There was a decent wait to be seen. Which told me I’d got the timing wrong again. I was proven right later on when the Doctor mentioned how early I had arrived. Tsk!
I told doctor Vindla of wee-wees, how painful they were and only the off sprinkle coming out. Off t the treatment room And she had a look ot the bladder and Shot up the backside to have a feel around. I felt that one! Then something long and cold. I didn’t ask.
Two Meridian gals… I think Tina and Jodie came in as I was sat sitting at the computer, trying to resettle the giant-sacked ball whatsit between my legs. The legs also grew greatly today? I fear that the photographs I took while out, fifteen of them, many never made it to the SD Card. A message something like ‘This photo cannot be viewed’ showed on the Lumix screen. Huh!
The FARCICALISATIONAL began. I got wrapped up well, remembered the Sample tube thingy, filled, of course. Hehe! I got to the public bus stop, and other tenants joined us there. And a bus arrived within minutes. I got into the vehicle with no injuries, got sat down and off we went. My mind was concerned at that time about what and how I was going to explain my symptoms to the Doctor. (I would have checked my notes written earlier… but they were in the living room back at the flat. We arrived at the next stop, and a lady and gent got on. It’s been so long since I saw them since I don’t get out much, and I greeted them like family and launched into questioning them about how they were getting on. The lady said she was sorry, but they were getting off at the next bus stop. Then a sickening feeling filled my stomach, with a self-hating mode coming on when I realised where we were, going in the opposite direction. I’d got on the wrong bus! I alighted with the pair, and not a full mode, but it soon became one when I realised the problem I was going to have to get to the surgery on time now.
I crossed the pelican lights to the other side, but none of the buses went to Carrington from there. (I wondered at that moment if this was a suitable name for EasyLink to use) But did not blame them; I more cursed my own luck and Dementia Doreen! This very kind lady came to me (I supposed I must have looked worried?) and asked if I was alright. I briefly explained my cock-up, and asked if there was a taxi place nearby. Bless her. She got on her mobile and ordered a car from DG for me. This arrived within three minutes and five more, and we were pulling up at the Sherrington Park Surgery. The sun came out as I paid my dues.
Whoever the lady was To whoever the lady was who helped dave the appointment for me. ♥
I got inside, and when I logged in, the lady in reception pointed to the chairs. (Doctoresse at this surgery for Please take a seat) Which in many ways was such a comfort; because it meant I was not late.
With how the eyes were, there was no point in taking the crossword book (although I meant to, I just forgot to, Ahem!)
I looked through every leaflet on the walls, and there was no shortage, but there were only about four with print big enough to read.
I sat for about twenty minutes: Not easy sitting, you know! When one of your man bits is three times the size of the other one, without trapping or sitting on it. Well, impossible, actually!
Dr Vindla came to me, smiling… that always scares me for some reason nowadays Hehe! The first thing she sails was, “You’re good and early today, Gerry. Let’s have you in…”
I’d got the appointment timing all mixed up again! Shouldn’t really be such a shock with my record, but so many in such a short space of time were worrying me a smidgeon.
I don’t suppose for one second that they bother my uninvited interloping brain resident, Dementia Doreen, do you think?
I’m surprised I don’t have a headache; I bet she’s in there amongst the confused brain cells, throwing a party. or maybe having a revelrous-celebratory knees-up with Alto-Ego?
I wonder how long it will be until my grip weakens so much that I will not care anymore? Just a thought. Well, at the moment, anyhow. Back to the surgery… I strayed well off-topic again there; sorry. I told the Doc all about my four sleepless nights and the mushrooming, three-time it’s usual size tender right bit in my men’s department. I can’t be certain, but I thought I detected a little wry-smile creep into her expression. It was off into the examination room for me with her. She got me positioned and ready for her to delve into certain orifices. She said; I’m going to have a feel… (By gum, that took me back in time, Hahaha!) a feel of your Prostrate, which she did. I just lay there in bliss for a minute. Then, another delve into the rear quarters, I sensed a bit of squelching, and then Dr Lona said something, but I didn’t hear what she said clearly.
Back in her room, then spoke again. She has sent an email to the chemist, which I can fetch now, for some MacroBid antibiotics. Do I did. But not until Dr Vindla gave me an appointment with the Nurse – I nearly got excited then. Haha! It’s with Nurse Lisa. For 30th December at 10:30hrs. I wish I’d asked what it was for, not hearing her tell me earlier, but by now, no-doubt Doreen was back in action, making sure that any signs of contentment, peace, or understanding had no chance in hell of maturing. She’s good at that.
For some reason unknown to me why this is the moment that what I thought was a swollen and painful right testicle started to turn into a really swollen and agonising pain-giving testicle! No idea what caused this, but as the day went on, in the morning, typing this, it got worse. I really am in the shit now, and have to walk to the chemist and then catch two buses to get home! A daunting challenge, that daunted me! Argh! Got to the chemist, collected the prescription, and had to decide whether to walk into Sherwood or use the bus. Not an easy decision. (Well, none are for me nowadays)
I knew that on the bus, there would be no chance of avoiding injury to Spanish Onion Henry. (I christened him that as I give names to all my ailments) Well, he feels that size, you see, to me. Hehehe!
Knowing that I had to catch the bus from Sherwood. No way would Spanish
Onion Testicle Henry have coped with walking up the steep hill; I decided it would be easier to walk into Sherwood.
There was only one really near-bothersome that happened en route.
When I was passing some of the brand-new Escotters on the kerbside. (Putting them in that spot must tempt the scallywags to use them on the road, surely?)I had the above thought (Oh, yes, I have thought every now & then, Why I recall having one in Made 1968). I had a few seconds scary . BY Gawd, SOSTH didn’t half sting for a bit. Good job, I didn’t go over. Anyway, I made a tag for him cause I see no signs of him getting any smaller.
Caught the bus in Sherwood back up to the flats and got inside, and must say, although I thought at the time, was painful, it was going to get a lot worse.
I dare not sit down at the computer at first for fear of inflaming SOSTH. So, I got the kitchen floor mopped. A pathetic effort, but it made me feel better for trying.
Then. Tina and Sam or Jodie from Meridian called. To tell me, Richard has spoken with them, and she has worked hard to get the NCC to allow some extra care time and arrange for the laundry to be done at no extra cost. She’s also trying to arrange for Richard – or another carer to go with me on Thursday to the Coppice hospital. That is a worry less; if it’s Richard, the hospital tells me it must be someone that can accurately answer questions about how I have changed in personality. Richard is the only one who can do that. I do appreciate them trying for me. ♥
After this, I honestly don’t know what occurred until the evening Carer arrived. It was not a good visit, a tension in the air as I recall. I was not given the new double dose of Omeprazole. The Peptac server was left on the carer’s table. And the waste bags were not taken. But I still offered him a treat in thanks. It may have been me talking too much again.
Shortly after the Carer left, my body closed down after I’d taken my third wee-wee in an hour. I . Woke at about 03:30hrs and was soon back in the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner again, after taking a wee-wee. Great, only four awakenings all night to use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). A record that!
Sorry for the contents being short on details today. One of those impossible-to-concentrate days.
Another can’t-get-to-sleep night. But at least I slept in, a reaction from the body mayhap in protest at Sweet Morpheus’s attitude to my requests for rest. So I reckon I’d got nigh on 6-hours of kip, much better.
I didn’t get up until 06:30hrs. A hint of mode came to me when I realised that if I slept this long on Wednesday, I could blob getting the lift to the hospital. Oh, dear!
I got up, had a wee-wee, emptied and cleaned the overnight bucket, and pressed on with getting the sorted. A couple of nicks shaving, but nothing serious. The teggies, shaving and washing etc., went rather well, actually. With the Porcelain Throne session, though. Unexpectedly, Trotsky Terence took over the bowels this time. What a mess!
I dressed and got the computer on, and did the health checks for today.
Well, what a nice surprise! Still in the Amber. .
arrived while I was making a brew and looking at what I’d got to eat for dinner in the fridge and cupboards.
Richard got the medications sorted and went and fetched the Flash speed mop and assembled it was a little quick for