– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It may have only been a temporary & transient moment, but when I stirred at 05:20hrs, there was a worrying amount of satisfaction in the air! Verging almost on contentment!
As soon as I knocked the cut thumb against the catheter stopper when releasing it, and blood flowed – so did the depression. All my worries about the chemist, booking problems that need outside help to call the pharmacy, the audio centre, and booking a lift to get the hearing aids amended flowed as well. The reason for this near-waking jollity baffled me at first. Why? Why? Why should it have been there to greet me as I woke up? Why? I was soon back in grumpland & painland.
As the confusion eased. The worry, too, was when I realised the likely answer would be that I’d been dreaming. Not that I could recall any details. But an aura lingering in my grey cells indicated… well, passion! Hehehe!
As I heaved my cumbersome overweight bellied body off of the bed and sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, alarm bells rang (pain) from Little Inches Fungal Lesion and poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I could feel the fresh-cracked, previously dried blood trickling free from those areas. I hobbled to the wet room to investigate. Not liking what I discovered.
I cleaned up the rear end and groin and got the ablutions tended to before attempting any medications. The shave produced far too many cuts; I may have had a mini-seizure while shaving… but I’m not sure. Am I ever?
All I know for sure is that after finishing the razor work, I had a bloody lip, nose, and neck (four cuts at the back!), and I’d somehow got another cut under the thumbnail to add to the one where I stabbed the end of the bead knife under the nail yesterday! Still, the Brut aftershave soon stemmed the flowing red stuff. Oh, and it stung a bit! Hey-Ho!
The pain from getting Little Inchies Fungal Lesion done first only deserves one word… ARRGH!Ear holes are olive-oiled, and the eye drops and spraying were sorted. As for the Nurse told me to use the Barrier Cream on Harrold’s Haemorrhoids, well, not after last night’s agony, mate! I went back on the Germolois ointment, which was a blessed relief! Almost instant as I applied it. Costly, though! I used my small picker-upperer to apply the cream to the ulcer and Renaud-Ridden Toes. I also sprayed some Dettol on the ankle ulcers and Germolene on the cracked lips and nose. The tiny split in the thumbnail edge. Getting my dangling man breasts and back medicated was not so easy; I couldn’t reach where I needed to be. I’ve got a fair girth amidships! (Later on, Carer Chloe applied it for me, thank you, Chloe ♥)
Getting the Protection Pants on this morning took me much longer than my recorded time of 11 minutes. However, on the bright side of things, albeit a marathon session (Honestly!), there was no bleeding whatsoever… I’d like to say that again, please… There was no bleedingwhatsoever!.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and got the 1970’s manual clock adjusted to today’s numbers. The care did it again and made the right side of the photo look ultra bright? I wish I knew what I was doing wrong! Well, I stabbed myself again! I went to put the mushrooms in the slow cooker to pickle them tonight. And… for the third time on the trot of using the sharp pointy knife, I stabbed myself in my hand. I must stop!
I returned to the kitchenette, as the 99 tea had gone cold, and I made a super strong mug with two tea bags in it. To a snap of it, then without changing anything on the Kodak, I took the shot above from the window of the greenish morning sky. Much later, when it came to putting the photos on CorelDraw, the mug of extra strong tea was not on the SD card, but, as you can see, the green sky came through okay to the card?
I checked on the Google calendar, realising I’d not put the appointment on it for the (I love this old title) (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis. (VTR) Venous thromboembolism includes (PE) pulmonary embolism (PE) and the Warfarin Monitoring Clinic. They’ve changed it now, and it has a humdrum title: Anticoagulation Clinic. Hehe! Also, please note I’ve got three food orders arriving in three days? Have I lost my grip on things again? (Well, it’s likely) Asda yesterday, Iceland today, and Ocado tomorrow. Hopefully, I can do without an order until or after Christmas now. Most of the items on these three, well, not on Ocado but the others, is treats and drinkies for the staff, Nurses & Carers for Christmas.
The Iceland order arrived. The driver took the bags to the kitchen for me; there were only four of them. Very few fresh products. Apart from the mushrooms that I hope to turn into pickled mushrooms today, and three days later, I will be ready for nibbling! So the fridge looked about the same as it did yesterday. Not that I needed anything anyway. But I must resist getting anything else in, or the bank manager will have my guts for garters. By gum, sorting the other bags out took me a while.
They both had Christmas nibbles and treats in them.
I have two shelves filled with drinkies to offer the Christmas workers this year. Hopefully, no nurses will need to call, but I must ring them and tell them to collect their bottles. The nibbles bowl was filled. I had to put some of them on the Carer’s desk. A decent choice to offer them this year. I love doing this, but it doesn’t stop them from telling me off occasionally… well, often. Haha!
arrived, as I was finishing sorting out the fodder and was just about to start prepping the mushrooms for cooking and then pickling them. We discussed if she could help me in the morning instead of doing domestic work and if she could try to call the audio clinic or chemist for me to help sort out my concerns. I think she said she may be able to try the clinic. Oh, I hope she can get through.
I started updating the blog. Since there is not much left to do on Mondays, I should send it out earlier today.
Carer Chloe returned as I’d just finished cooking and pickling and jarred up the mushrooms. I fear that the first attack of the day came from . Hence, I cannot recall much of what took place. I do remember her using the Hoover thingamibob. But little else, Tsk!
After Chloe had left, I turned my attention to the mushrooms that were now cooked and the task of pickling them. I hope I got the order of things right. I drained and cleaned the mushrooms from the slow cooker. Left them to cool down a little and washed the cooker basin. I stored the mushroom in the now empty pickling jar. They looked a lot darker than yesterday? Hope they turn out alright. I’ve got the remainder of the uneaten ones in a used jar and got them out of the fridge for later tonight (although it looks like it may be in the early hours of the morning; I’m so far behind with everything, grumpy, groan and gragknacles!
My lovely neighbour Jenny telephoned me. She had read the blog about my hearing aid problem and offered to give me some batteries if that was the problem.
She is so kind to me. ♥
Then I received an email from Lisa in the US of A! Another Gem in my life. She commiserated with my problems; she has more than enough of her own. ♥ Told me of for feeling guilty, Bless her Cotton Socks! ♥
Carer Sam called. She said she would find my laundry bag and return it to me if she could. I don’t think she found it. Carer Chris did the teatime call and did not bring it up, but he might have it on his last call. No, I have confidence in the lad, absolutely. Mind you, if it disappeared, it’d be the fourth time since I started having Carers take it to the launderette. Good Luck and I do not have an affinity!
Having quoted that, it was lovely today having two angels asking how things were. Jenny💛 & Lisa 🧡
It’s late now. I’ll get summat to eat, methinks.
Nice feast of sorts here! Home pickled mushrooms and water chestnuts, cheesy rolls well non-butter buttered, with dabs of Marmite. Potatoes, garden peas, pickled eggs (shop-bought), and a very tasty tub of delicious lemon curd yoghourt.
Carer Christopher made his last call.
And he immediately set to getting the new mini-oven out of the box and into action on top of the old, broken-down large cooker.
Took him no time at all. I couldn’t lift the box, let alone get it up onto the old cooker.
We turned on the electricity after plugging it into a socket. I admit to a slight nervousness about doing this. Remembering what happened with the old cooker… Would it blow the fuses again? Well, after showing me the controls, I turned on the oven. It was heating up immediately, and no blown fuses to put us in the dark! Great” Thanks, Chris!
Chris issued the medications and got the nocturnal catheter to bog out for me to put on. We forgot to take my diabetic socks off, but things were rushed a little while doing the cooker for me, so I’m not bothering about the Night bag at all. After Christ departed, I got a Kodak camera out and took this shot of the cooker, with it lit up inside and my reflection of taking the shot on the glass. The flask masked the two hobs on top of the machine. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All the bestest, folks! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sleep was broken again. I got fed up with waking up so often. Eventually, around 04:00hrs, I rose, and scrambled and fumbled my way out of the bed. Straightened the clothes, got the night bag off the catheter contraption, left it nearby for the Carer to check with the NHS colour Card later. Then, I grabbed the walking stick and went to the wet room for the Porcelain Throne and ablutioning session. I was flabbergasted! This visit was as near to normal as I’ve had for many months! Neither Trotsky Terence nor Constipation Conrad had the advantage! No bleeding, not too messy, and no pain whatsoever! !
This situation didn’t last long, of course. Cleaning myself up after the evacuation was completed, I got a little over-enthusiastic, and I externally caught some of . The blood flowed, making a fair old mess to clean up. However, once again, there was minimal pain! Even when I bent down, I had to get things tidied, only brought on , and he didn’t stay with me for long. No signs of or any bother from or even ! I think I wondered if I was still in bed dreaming all this. It was going great! Fair does, a few painless nicks shaving, that were soon stopped my the Brut aftershave. The teeth cleaning did not spur on ! Can all this be happening? A good stand-up naked body scrub with no problems! I dried off and got medicationing done, and I don’t recall any bother with any of them… Apart from the always painful, which is to be expected and has to be coped with as best I can. It’s like an old friend. Hehehe!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea, and got on the computer. It hurts to say or write that word!
I was taking a photo of the dark morning. I saw the time and realised it must have been 03:00 hrs when I got up; otherwise, I’d never have had time to get all that I’d done in an hour.
Then, it began to get busy in the flat. For many reasons, it was a different start to the day.
The computer was not letting me save artwork or photos, yet did for some. Am I doing something wrong again? I tried to remember what I did yesterday to solve the issue that was back again… And Carer Sham arrived. A nice gal. She got my socks on for me and the medications issued. We had a mini natter, and off she trotted.
Back to the computer problems.
I thought it was the DVT nurse, Hristina. The door chime chimed, but no one came in, so I investigated. It was a District Nurse. The moment I opened the door, she said she was embarrassed and had come to the wrong flat. We both laughed about it, and that is good medicine.
I went back to the computer, but I’d lost the plot altogether now. I was trying to work out what I’d done and not tried when the intercom rang forth. This time, it was my precious Hristina calling. She came in, and we chatted as she got the hypodermic thingies ready. A lovely lady. She soon took the blood samples and an extra one this time so they could check if the Vitamin B5 tablets were working. As we were gossiping before her leaving, the intercom rang again. It was the food delivery from Sainsbury’s store.
Hristina did no less than help me put the things away in the fridge and cupboards. Bless her ♥.
Carer Chloe came next. She was doing the domestics for me, bless her. ♥ She checked the fridge and a cupboard for the sell-by-dates on the products that I could not read them. Well, believe it or not, I took 3 carrier bags that the gal had sorted out, full of out-of-date foods! As I took them to the waste chute, she checked one cupboard. She filled two more carriers with food for the waste chute. She kindly took them to the chute for me as she left. Four more cupboards to sort on her next visit. ♥ She then mopped the kitchen for me. Earned her money, Chloe did! ♥
Then Carer Sam came ♥. We laughed about things. For once, no medications were needed. I kept changing between cheerful, depressed, and not bothered about things.
Then the kicked off out of the blue.
I think I was on the computer until 1730hrs when I came back to ersatz normality because I had no end of correcting to do.
Carer Chris’s arrival brought me back, I think.
We had a natter, and he issued the evening medication and had to rush off after I’d bored him with my tales of the day earlier, which I could recall easily… I hope.
Then I got the spuds in the oven for the evening meal. Back on the computer, adding the pasty to the potatoes after the spuds had been in for 3O minutes. Hope they’ve not burnt
I went to find out… No Problemo! Parmentier potatoes, vegetable pasty, Marmite cheese, yellow and red tomatoes, and Marmite rice cracker, with a splash of Branston Sauce and some liquid sea salt.
A lemon & lime yoghourt to follow!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another day of frustration, torment, mistakes, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, agony from the bladder, wee-wee not flowing correctly. Urine’s colour regularly changed from almost clear to a deep brown and back again, Little Inchie in agony, the Catheter Contraption tugging away at him, Constipation Conrad showing no signs of easing, and… Never mind, a typical day here up in the clouds in the imprisoning flat, with increasing rent, power to go up 20% at the Labour’s first budget in October, and the yearly Power Costs Support Money has been cancelled by the Labour Party. That’s the one that Keir Starmer told us at the election was safe in our hands! I hope I never meet him; I’ll be nervous expecting him to pick my pocket! Or worse! The Founder of the National Health Service and my top Hero, Anyeui (Nye) Bevan, must be turning in his grave! Keir Starmer is a liar, cheat, wealthy, and power-motivated creature who seems too clever for his own good. Did he not know his deceit and underhanded lies by omission would not be revealed? It’s only the suicidal Conservative Party’s own ineptness and patheticness that got him into power! Well, fair enough. Keir’s blatant lies helped. One of his first sleight-of-hand moves was taking away the pensioner’s Winter Warmth cash: an easy target for him, and he knew it. The personal protection of the prime minister and former prime ministers is the responsibility of the Protection Command within the Metropolitan Police Service. The fleet of Prime Ministerial Cars provides the prime minister with a number of security features and transport. The Labour leader racked up an extraordinary expenses bill – an average of nearly £50,000 a year – while senior public prosecutor, including a chauffeur-driven car alongside first and business-class flights worldwide.
Starmer billed over £180,000 for chauffeur-driven cars in London despite living four miles from the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) office.
He took first-class flights to four continents. As head of CPS, he took an 85-minute flight to Belfast, which cost us £443.
Starmer spent nearly £20,000 on four flights to Washington, D.C., then claimed £7.24 for a taxi in the US capital. His successor, A Saunders, served the same 5-year term but had travel expenses less than a third of the size of Starmer’s. And we have to grit our teeth, he says, at the budget? Starmer took home £1m over five years in charge of CPS and accrued £336,000 in pension benefits.
Long-time watchers of Keir Starmer, who have questions about his murky rise to leadership of the Labour Party, will have noted the investigation by Gabriel Pogrund and Harry Yorke in last weekend’s Sunday Times with interest. Based in part on materials from investigative journalist Paul Holden, whose forthcoming book The Fraud: Keir Starmer, Labour Together, and the Crisis of British Democracy is due out early next year, the Sunday Times article reveals the slush fund of undeclared, unregulated, and unlawful dark money – more than £730,000 of it – that financed the reconquest and reclamation of the Labour party by its far-rightwing using Keir Starmer as a figurehead. Still, I mustn’t let the pug-faced, tergiversation, lying, duplicitous, untrustworthy, clever double entente master, and obnoxious Oligarch git get to me! Keir Starmer is at the peak of his dishonesty! Or should that be at the birth of unlimited new opportunities?
I got a little carried away there… didn’t I?
I woke late, at 0600 hrs, but I felt a smidge perky, so I decided to get up and do my ablutions. I looked down from the bed to see that the nocturnal catheter pouch had barely any wee-wee in it. But the gigantic, thick, overly-long tube was backed up with much darker urine that was not going into the bag. So, I applied the usual morning task of throwing the bag around like a football rattle, then threw it back on the floor. Sure enough, the urine flowed. Still too dark, but still. Can’t win them all. I popped into the kitchen before the wetroom to check that I’d not left the taps on, fridge or freezer doors open or cooker on. They all looked good to me.
The photo of the Bottom field and City Hospital in the distance was taken. They’re not bad either, well, alright.
First thing, a sit on the Porcelain Throne, pain, effort, and Oh, so slow coming out. Constipation Conrad is still in full charge. I took another Laxido sachet in warm water later). There were only a few specs of blood on the toilet roll, and there was no mess to clean up! After cleaning my teeth, I had a shave. The aftershave dribbled onto the flesh cuts. Tsk! A body scrub, and ont to the medicationalisationings. Olive oiled the earholes; Earache Erasmus was no bother today. Put the eye drops in. Then, I got the barrier cream under the man’s breasts and belly bulge.
Germoloided Harold Haemmoroids and antiseptic cream were on the top of the legs, where the catheter straps had cut into the skin a bit. Acne cream under the arms, around the neck, and to the forehead. Then Phorpain gelled the knees for Arthur Itis. I could not reach down to do the ankle ulcer; I’ll ask a carer later. But, of course, I forgot to! The last mendicant, as usual, was the ointmentating of Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. Gawd, doing this hurts! I cleaned the glasses and cut my fingernails. I was in the middle of the usual battle to get the fresh PPs on when the door chime rang out. I finished as quickly as possible, but whoever it was had gone by the time I got to the door. Hobbled back to check the wet room, but could I find my hearing aids? No! It’s still a mystery to me, like so many things nowadays.
As I put on the gown, I noticed the thick, long catheter tube was in backflow mode again. And even deeper red now! I’d also obtained a new cruise on the left leg. It might have been caused by the top strap trapping the skin. Or not. I didn’t know what I was thinking at that moment. A seizure was on the way, and I knew it. Although how I knew it, I don’t know. But it did come, as Carer Shaquille arrived. I think I was waffling a lot. I know Shaq got the diabetic socks on for me.
I made a brew and got onto the computer belatedly. I have no idea what I got carried away with, but hours later, I’d still not started updating the blog. It seems I got some work done on CorelDraw, but not successfully. Spit!
Carer Kimberley arrived to provide financial help, but of course, she couldn’t. I pointed out that until Kara told her what to do and how to do it, including changing the name of my Prime Helper with the bank, they would not talk to her. She had a look at the mail but does not know, nor do I, where or which folder has to go in where. Kara used to do it so well and efficiently for me. She will see if Kara can show her and change her name.
I took this snap of the clouds while making a mug of tea. I’ve already drank three days’ worth of my allowance, which is six mugs, which should be two daily. A twinge of guilt was soon cast into the abyss of the ‘I’m-not-bothered-anymore’ section of the brain. A Dark, Dank Depression fell that instant!
I could not seem to break out of this downer. It appears that I also snapped a picture of a beetroot jar, but I cannot recall the reason why. But finding it on the SD, I thought I’d post it with a warning and advice for chefs worldwide who may use pickled beetroot from the UK. “Warning: This beetroot is as hard as concrete!” “It can bend knives used to cut it”, and “Break teeth”. But, think of the poor producers, who are like everyone else, who have struggled with the Conservative’s ineptitude and now face Tax rises, Price Rises, and cut-backs from expense-fiddler Herr Keir. Just thought I’d get another dig-in at HMG.
The miniature catheter pouch emptying went on and on. And it was not a good colour at all. That is until about 19:00hrs after Carer Israel made a quick visit. After a few minutes, the weight of the mini-pouch tugged on Little Inchie, so I emptied the bag again, as it was so light a colour? This is baffling me.
I decided I was too tired to carry on. So, I went to the WP reader and viewed any messengers. But I needed to rush, as my hunger was growing, and I needed to eat before I fell asleep.
I was serving up the nosh when Carer Israel arrived. I forgot to photograph it. Israel took the diabetic socks off my legs and attached the nocturnal bag to what may be my most painful catheter contraption. It has a tiny bag that needs emptying far too often and a long, thick upper tube that is giving Little Inchy more pain than ever before. (Written in hopes of the Doctor reading this blog)
I took these shots of the near sunset earlier and forgot about them until I found them on the SD card in the morning (Now).
It’s not too bad an effort, even if I say so myself. Smug-Mode-Assumed! Got settled to watch some TV, & although I was seated with my legs up, Dizzy Dennis visited me for a couple of hours. I was on the verge of pressing the wristlet alarm, and as he dissipated.
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Another frustrating, frabjous, fracas and fault-filled Friday. Fractionally more upsetting than last Friday was without the fun with Nurse Felicity. My mind was more fragmented, and Doreen Dementia’s logicality dissented when I attempted to glean a modicum of sense from the (fewer than yesterday, I admit) cock-ups of today. However, I did formulate a cunning plan to ensure that I could get the shower. (The first one in the five weeks of the diabetic latherings of bandages on my right leg). ①. I had to finish and post yesterday’s blog by midday. I was a little behind, but the wife used to like that. Hahaha! ② After the Carer sees me, I must get on with ablutions. Even if it takes me 3 hours again, I’ve no deliveries or nurses calling. So, you can get on with the ablutions and medication and get the PPs, the nightshirt, and slippers on. However, I’d forgotten about the foot lady calling to cut my toenails. She did them quickly. I paid up, her reminding me to. Ahem! I’ve gone all out of sync again, sorry. I’ll start again…
According to the bits I can read on the notepad, I got up at 05:10 hrs. The nocturnal catheter pouch was removed and photographed. This is another 6 on the NHS scale.
Off to the wet room Throne.
Opened the kitchen window and took this Kodak shot.
Rubbish sorted.
At this point, kicked off. She was so kind last night. I’m having totally unexpected pains from the left leg ulcer now. Then, the Mystery Rib Pain joined in when I sat down at the computer.
Carer Maryham arrived. She confirmed the colour of the not-yet-emptied catheter bag so she could do this for me. It was a level six on the NHS colour card. Maryham checked the cooler and taps for me and told me I’d left the window open. Medications were distributed, and a mini-natter and laugh were shared.
After the gal went, I made a fresh brew of Thompson’s Punjana tea. I then got on the computer and hurriedly made an error after mistake, as I wanted to keep to my plan of getting a shower, shave, and sh… in.
An email arrived from Iceland, telling us they had made changes to today’s order, which has happened in the last four deliveries from them. Humph! I went even faster on the blog, determined to finish it, but the delivery arrived, which at least came early despite shortages and unwanted substitutions. Treats for the nurses and Caregivers’ table had arrived. Carer Chris called today. The caramel bars won’t last long; he loves them! Hahaha! I refilled the big and small bowls of nibbles on their table. And I scattered some bikkies and crisps around so they may be tempted to try. Thanks. Unfortunately, the smoked ham offcuts tray was blown. I cut the wrappers to make sure they were safe… Boy, the stink! I’ll not get them again!
I got the little potatoes out to boil them and nibble later. On the left is a photo of the sprouts removed from the few that were cookable. The disputed potatoes that made it to the new saucepan were put on a low light. Well, that’s what I thought at the time! I was to find out I was wrong half an hour later when Carer Joanne arrived and checked the taps and cooker. In my usual airy-fairy way, I’d not turned it down to one but up to level three on the hob. The new pan as well! I thought at first that it was hundreds of eyes/sprouts that I’d taken off all of and that they had magically returned. Carer Joanne grasped the situation and asked me if I’d added any seasoning. I had, and that was what was floating about after being overcooked. I got mad, apparently called myself names, and swore a bit self-condemnatory. Told me off, saying (repeating a self-insult I muttered to myself at the time) You are not an idiot! Bless her. Off she went, and I felt better that someone understood my mental & physical problems. I was finishing up on the blog and ready to post it at last – no nurses to call or carers are due for three hours (Sadly). I began to think about the things needed and in which order to get the ablutions and medicationings done. After over five weeks of having the diabetic swathings on, they are removed. And the joy of damned good shower was with my grasp… When did a plan of mine ever work out? This one didn’t either! As I saved the work done on XL, Work, CorelDraw and WordPress for later, I got a telephone call. It was from the salon, telling me the gal was coming up to cut my toenails. So that threw out the timing of my plan straight away! I finished saving things, and the gal arrived. It didn’t take her long, and I put the computer to sleep as soon as the gal left. I removed my alert wristbands and wristwatch and struggled to remove the catheter pouch. Yes, that cost me a lot of time and not inconsiderable pain, but I did it! As I entered the wet room, the need for the Throne arose. The evacuating produce came and came; it felt like it was in rapid waves. So, I manually cleaned the rear end before doing the teeth, then tackled the potentially high-risk job of shaving. It went like a dream! Not a single cut! I forgot to mention that I asked the young lady cutting the toenail if she could move the shower curtain for me so I could help keep the spray from splashing around too much. It’s been that long since I’ve had a shower. But I forgot to ask her to put the retaining clip in the static loop. That was a painful mistake for me to make. I got into the shower and took a bowl of water with Dettol in it to soak my feet first thing. After washing the feet, I tried to lift the bowl to empty it in the sink – cause I remembered that the extractor drain on the floor only lets so much water down that matches whatever quantity the shower issues. All very technical, Hehe! So, having filled the bowl from the sink, I knew all the water would not drain away. I have to say, I remember this was a Smug-Mode-Moment! I lost my grip on the bowl, and the water joined the evacuating water from the shower, and almost immediately, I nearly had a flood situation on my hands! I’m confused, too! My big fear was in case it flooded down to Mary’s flat below like the last time I cocked it up! I got myself into level three-agony, trying to mop up enough water before it leaked through and emptying the bucket down the WC. I’m amazed the hanging catheter bag did not come out! It worked. But cost me about another hour wasted. I went back in the shower, turned on the flow, and found water shooting from the showerhead all over the place at a rapid rate of knots!
What next? I must find out if Nottingham City Homes will mend it or if I must pay for it? Then I realised the end hook had come off of the shower curtain! This required the use of stepladders. With a left tendon that hurts if I move my left foot higher than four inches, this could be interesting and even more painful! It was! The knee would only allow me to climb up one step, from which, luckily, after reattaching the hook, I fell backwards, hitting my arm on the door edge, but miraculously kept on my feet! I made up for this bit of luck when taking the step ladders back; I trapped my finger as it snapped shut. Int Life Good! Carer Christopher arrived. He selected himself some vittles and a cold drink, and we nattered as he issued the medications. Then he got a mobile call and said he had to rush away. Thanked & off he shot. No chance for me to ask him to fit the catheter pouch leg bag cover back on for me. So, I’m in pain, even more so now, cause the Foley Catheter Pouch, without any straps on it, was tugging away at poor Little Inchie, which I’ve just discovered is now bleeding. (1740hrs) Worra day! I’m having to hobble more carefully now until the 21:00hr Carer calls. It might be Chris, it might not. I carefully went to take this photo on the left of the gorgeous evening clouds on offer. Beautiful!
I pressed on with this blog. Until the eyes faded and double vision started coming on again. It’s too late to make a meal and eat it. As the Carer will be here by the time it’s cooked. I’m getting peckish, so I ate the earlier burnt potatoes.
It’s days like this that one can fully grasp and appreciate the complete frustrating futility of life. The moment I returned to the flat from the QMC Hospital A+E. Feeling Guilty for wasting their time.
I needed some nourishment, vittles, and hastily made a meal. Vegan mini-sausages, oven chips, two sourdough rolls crammed with salted sliced tomatoes and plenty of the gorgeous-tasting Flora, No-Butter butter. I enjoyed this.
Then, as I was stripping off to get my head down and seated in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, filthy, repulsive recliner, I felt a fair outburst of pain kicking off from both of the then the joined in and for the rest of the night, one or the other was waking me up with their stinging. Another crap, kip!
Although today was no worse than any other day in many ways, I felt I’d reached a new standard of dépaysement. I was cheered up a smidge when Carer Chris did the last call. He got the diabetic socks off of my legs, gave me a painkiller, and said he’d collect the laundry in the morning as the bag was packed, which he did. Nibble treats in thanks, and off he trotted. Cheers!
The combination of the ankle ulcer’s stabs of pain and the odd issue of lightning shooting up the right leg ensured that sleep was minimal. Although, after each awakening; and so many, I had no trouble nodding off again… for a few minutes at most. I’m just glad that there weres no visitations from .
05:40hrs: I rose in a cheery, gay, happy mood. Possibly a Ahem! I could hardly believe the dark colour of the Catheter night pouch contents—I was in shock, really. I took another shot of it when emptying the night bag. Of course, at the time, I didn’t realise that much bigger shocks were awaiting me later on, today! Yes.
I took this picture of the early morning view from the kitchenette window.
At least it wasn’t foggy… yet! Only my brain was foggy. I was off to the wet room for a wash and visit to the. There was another change in styles: from two days of being in control, now was ruling things. Mega-smelly, almost watery, it squirted out more than flowed! It took me ages to get the place, and my body cleaned up! Tsk.
Since arriving in the wet room, I’d had three or four of the .
Seeing the state of the ankles, was no surprise. may need putting back on again, if things get any worse and the lesions burst open. Won’t please the Carers.
The Asda driver rang me on the mobile phone with a connection as normal, but it was so bad that he might as well have been talking to me in Outer Mongolian, for all I understood. I assumed he could not gain access and told him I’d come down to him straight away. Big Mistake!
I got and left the flat to find that both of the lifts were out-of-action! .
I looked down between the fire escape stairs… It looked and was daunting. 24 flights of stairs to get down. I automatically set off, with great difficulty and pains from , and . I really must have been mad, to think I could get down all that way and then back up again. However, thought I could. I couldn’t, of course. I managed to get down to the sixth floor and started going back up again. This was when I heard the noises below me. The heroic, saving-the-day driver was on his way up; I could hear him going up a flight of stairs with two of the three boxes, back down and getting the third, then repeating the exercise for each of the 24 flights of stairs. I continued climbing back up, and the driver caught me up; I was struggling so much to get back to my floor. The ankles had swollen and also was bleeding. The driver was pouring sweat, but he stayed calm and patient with me. As we got to the flat, arrived. Between them they got the food into bags and took them into the kitchen for me. It was a big order as well. I sent a thank-you note to Asda later in the day for the driver’s kind, beyond-the-call-of-duty actions. He deserves recognition. Did the medicationalisationings. I took this shot of the well-tired Asda driver leaving.
Then, an Iceland order arrived! Which I was certain I’d ordered for next Tuesday? I may need more help here! kindly put the bags in the hallway for me, ready for me to tackle later. Thanks, Shaquille!
Then, I set about sorting out the Asda Delivery. This is going to be a long job. There is much stuff to sort out and store away. I made a start…
The spring waters and cordials were put on the floor next to the Water Alarm Sounder thingamabob on the floor. Something else to trip over.
Shloer drinkies for treats and thankyous for the Caregivers and nurses who tend to me. Soda water and spring water for the daily Catheter filling routines. A bottle of Mushroom sauce and Tomato Ketchup with pickle. Lastly, sterilised milk.
Some reet-treats for myself in this photographicalisation on the left. Vici Surimi sticks Sweet & delicate). Jamaican Lamb patties. (Tasty!) Asda Crisp & Golden Potato Rostis (Not bad at all when done until burnt a bit). But nice!
Some favourites in this one! Brown sliced baguettes! Ready meals, Cumberland Pie, Minced beef hotpot. Texas beef chunks, an all-day breakfast, and a newly discovered gem. mini caramelised sausages!
Then I moved on to the Iceland delivery storage. Far less to work with. Curry & Barbeque baked beans, mushrooms, sugarless biscuits, batteries AA & AAA. Treats drinkie, and some ready-made coffees for the Carers who like them.
Made up and took the waste bags to the rubbish shoot in the 12th-floor main lobby. Noticing the lifts had been repaired as I passed by them en route. I managed to trap my hand, well finger, in the cast iron closure drawer without any effort or input. No cursing, swearing, or spitting, just an Argh!
Back in the detention cell. I mean the apartment, I avoided a calamity and with seconds to spare, got it emptied just in time! The colour was a lot healthier looking now than first thing. I got on with the blog finalisationings at long last. Worra, day! It’s well into PM now!
The mist had been around all day once it had fallen. Too busy to notice what time it fell. More like November weather, really.
Slurp, gobble!
Took ages to force out this time. Spent some time on the crossword puzzle.
Overnight, despite the horrendous day I’d had, left me alone. But… the woke me up each time when it struck. Higher up on the leg now. Wakes you up with a jerk, I can tell yers. I feel a little pain each time, but it soon eases off, within seconds. By then, they had done their job, mission, aim… to stop me sleeping! Either because of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind. Or, my brain that is not communicating with that is dying off, or maybe it’s the cunning ? I’ve always had a sort of affinity with him, you know. I don’t think he likes not being liked by the souls he collects? It could be part of his plan to make living (for me) hell, then when he comes, I’ll welcome him. Just a thought. I’ve no quarrel with him at all. It’s smarty-pants Saint Peter I’d like a word with.
Due to , I’d stored photos on the wrong day in the file. So some may be from earlier, as I got myself in a muddle trying to sort them. Sorry again. if so!
06:14hrs: was leaking rather painfully as I stirred back into my mock-imitation, forlorn pitiful life. She was stinging much more this morning as well. As I removed the night bag from the catheter, other ailments joined in. With what seemed a concerted effort. A lets attack Inchy with as much pain as we can today. They were successful! , , and a rare visit from . The pain behind the left eye kicked off… EQ kept telling me, “I warned You!” I knew things were not going to go well at all today – and boy was I right! Had I known what was going to happen, I’d have hibernated there in the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, welt-creating, itch-making crumb-containing recliner.
I got to the wet room and utilised the first job. Aha, had not lost control completely, but I’d say was fighting back! The shaving went bloodlessly. ! The showering did not! The patch I’d put on was loosening its grip a bit. , and flowing freely was . giving me gip each time I had to bend or stretch. But the Germolene and Germoloids I’d managed to buy, did a fine job in stopping the bleeding for me. Emptying the bowl that I’d washed my feet in while shaving, I got a little, but enough, of the shakes and twitches from , to ensure that I dropped the bowl of dirt water. Innit amazing how far water can spread? Come think of it, she had support from my to inform the befuddled brain of my physical needs. The urine was a good-looking colour today. It kept changing several times later on from this practically near perfect to a deep orangey-red? Little was jealous of the other ailments’ success I think, and the pangs and pains started coming from him, and are still with me tomorrow. I thought today was bad… but having already lived tomorrow, they are not so bad! I made another Heath Robinson affair and put it on Not the foggiest idea what I might have done wrong, but boy did the pain increase! Yes, it did! seemed the ‘Ailment in Command’ at this stage. Even worse than the , this was a first!
arrived. Medications sorted, and the eye drops. I did ask the lad if he could put some of the Phorpain gel on , but somehow we both forgot about it. No blame attached, other than to me. I’m the one in pain, and I forgot to remind him. We’ll settle I think for blaming
Arrived, for financial & advising. Well, she was overwhelmed I think, all the problems I needed help with. ① Covid-jab appointment making. ② Flu-Jab appointment making. ③ She called the district nurse to get some advice for me on the bleeding. Told me they will report this to the nurses. ④ She tried to arrange a lift for the Audio Clinic appointment that she had made for me, but it doesn’t look too good – no free spots. The chap told Kara, that if any do come free, I’ll be first on the list to get a lift. He would ring back to let me know if that happens. ⑤ Kara did the eye drops and medicationing. ⑥ Checked on the Catheter bag for me. ⑦ When I went to find the Olive Oil applicator for the ears. She even found time to come and pick me up after I took a Dizzy-Tumble. Bless her! ⑧ There was something else she did, but I can’t recall it now.
I thanked her again, and off she had to go, always sad!
I’d be Lost Without Her Weekly Call to Help me!
I went out onto the balcony for a look around, hoping maybe to find some trees or clouds that I might do some with. But the clouds were very minimal and high and with my eyesight, they were not seeable enough really. But the close-up stuff was. Taking a shot of the end car park, I saw that the mudslide was receding at a good rate. No rain last night? I opened the door and took a close-up of the car park area. The mudslide had a sort of glow to it? After I on the raised ledge when getting back inside. I smiled, passed wind, and laughed it laughing it off, of course...
Potatoes on the boil.Then I searched for my new bottle of olive oil… Couldn’t find it, despite finding it hours later smack in the middle of the Carer’s table. Tsk! Made the second permitted mug of tea. Glengettie of course. I used the Jersey Full Milk this time. Lovely! But naughty, Sister Jane says! The Carer arrived, and UI left the mug of tea to go cold, forgetting all about it. The mug was well stained when I discovered it. Testimony to the flavour of the brew! The Community Nurse arrived, to look at the state of . She took a photograph of the lesion where the fluid was seeping from. Then set about drying it and wrapping the leg from just below the knee, down and around the foot! It felt better afterwards, but of course, I was being distracted by the presence of a young lady, manhandling me. Hahaha! She told me I must keep the leg raised at all times when not moving about. I had to insist she chose a dinkie and or nibbles from the display. She obliged me, bless her; after I’d told her if she didn’t pick one, I’d be sulking all day. Which brought forth the first laugh of the day. Hehehe!. She said someone would come out on Monday to change the bandages and check on things. Amazingly I remembered Carer Kara telling me she made the appointments for the Audio Clinic and Covid jabs for Monday & Wednesday, as she thought I might be tired after the trek to the clinic and it would give me a day to recover. Now that was kind! ♥ I mentioned this to the nurse, who said they would come on Tuesday instead.
Three hours or about, later, I checked on the leg when the Carer came. He took this photo. Looks like the fluid and a smidgeon of blood had started to flow.
Then it dawned on me – I would not be able to take a shower! It’ll have to be doing the washing stood at the sink. Which, will mean difficulties in getting access to certain areas that the shower spray usually takes care of. And on Tuesday, if they rebandage it again, an even longer period without a shower? Will I begin to reek? Haha! There is not a lot of escapage at the moment, so the chances are that they may leave it to get some air… or not. Mind you come think of it, it’ll be five days before they call… Ah, well!
The blogging will have to be cut short: if done at all. It seems essential that I get my leg up! There is no answer to that! Har-Har! I’ll try to get a cartoon made, and an ode daily. If time or I’m up to it. Sorry folks. Evening photo of the oddly light night.
There are also three medical appointments to sort out and fit in next week? I’m not feeling too good about the coming week. EQ agrees with me.
Great meal, though. The Flavour-Rating given was a deserved 8.5/10. Would have been higher if I had not undercooked the potatoes. Tsk!
Fingers Crossed – I can’t cross the legs or fingers voluntarily anyway. The worst of the ailments at present is the pain coming from the s Papules; a close second is the , which for some reason dosen’t like putting my legs up.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – But the new spectacles are not up to scratch – Mind you, I have already scratched the lens on them. Cognitive Impairment Iris, the water geyser on the right leg has had to be bandaged… by me, what a mess I made of it. Little Inchie is giving nearly as much pain as Back-Pain-Brenda is! Plus, Concentration Konrad is along with all of these, making it hard work! Can’t hear very well either. Humph! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Such a bad day for me. Worst in a long time. Confused, even more forgetful. Back-Pain-Brenda, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchie bleeding, as were indeed poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the teeth. Then as I was about to get my head down in the early hours of this morning (Saturday), one of the right lymphatic leg leakage gysers burst open! Anyway, I must at least try to keep to at least an imitation of the events’ chronological order. (Which it is already tp late to do, innit?) But the chances of that are best minimal – in fact, I can guarantee they and the grammar will leave you as confused as I am! Tons of things have been missed off this record. Due to my impressively effective habit of losing things – like the notepad I wrote all my notes on… the hearing aids, which I got out to show Kara two days ago, and have not got the foggiest where I put them! Oh, and the new reading glasses have absconded as well. I’m not sure whether to blame Dementia Doreen or Cognitive Impairment Iris. Maybe the constant pain I’m in is sending me a smidge more doolally than it normally does?
Great colour in the nocturnal catheter night bag.
Ten hours later, with little in the way of memory, and realising the notebook had done a runner. Liberty-Global Virgin Media had gone down at least…
Back-Pain-Brenda had forced me to take extra forbidden by the District Nurse, painkillers. Then, poor Little Inchie started bleeding as I bent down to retrieve biscuit barrel, and hit my head on the edge of the cabinet. The left Cataract eye, felt like it had glass in it, and assisted Confusion Conrad in making this a terrible day for me.
Off to the Porcelain Throne… This procedure was repeated five or six times over the day. With the same result!Zilch!
The toes remain in a two-tone shade.
Sorted the evening bags out.
I do recall Carer Chis coming n the last call of the day. He cheered me up a smidgeon. I took his photo as he was preparing to give me the Maxitrol Eye Drops. Note how he keeps the light bulb covered as he puts them in for me? Feeling a little perked up now, I took his Bloof Pressure etc. and put it in the NHS thingamajig. After the lad had gone, I inputted it, with excellent results coming back. Insisted he takes a drinkie & nibbles in thanks for his kindness.
Got the Wednesday blog finished at long last, and posted it of just before midnight. Realising as I did, that the potatoes on the crockpot had been cooking now for about 18 hours! I went to investigate the condition of them… Haha! They were fine! Just right, but they had been in a low-heat setting. I put the cheese & onion pasty in the microwave and went to attempt a wet room evacuation on the ? Porcelain Throne… No, nothing moved. I might have my stomach blow up if I don’t get a clearout before long.
Got the meal served up, and washed the pots & pans. Nothing exciting I know, but I enjoyed it all the same. So tired out now, still with pains and aches, especially so with Back-Pain-Brenda and Little Inchies sufferings. Flavour-Rating: 7.6/10!
As I was just putting the dish and cutlery in the bowl of water to wash them… slipped and I nearly went over, clouted my knuckles on the corner of the sink, and at the same time felt wet dripping on my right foot. My immediate thought was that the retaining clip on the catheter must have opened… Then it dawned on me, the was now on my left leg? Oh, ‘ecky thump!. One of the Lymphorrhea Leslie water geysers had burst open, and the fluid coming out was spreading from between my toes, all over the kitchenette floor. That’s why the stick slipped I think? No panic, though! Oh, no… just the most humungous pissed-off session of my life! Which turned into a self-pitying bout of depression at my rotten, ever-worsening state of health medically and mentally. I was so looking forward to getting some sleep after being up for so long and suffering a horrendous day… well, much more than 24 hours. Now, I struggle to find the tapes, bandages and pads, which I have never applied on my own before. I found the equipment quickly, as the flow of Lymph fluid dwindled to just a slow seeping-out stage.
Let’s face it, there couldn’t be much left in my body to come out after the imitation Niagra Falls event! Hehehe! It felt like I was wading through water as I got into the other room with the assorted medical stuff. Uncertain about how to go with applying the coverings, I pressed on and hoped for the best. (Hoped for the best? Me? Hehehe!)I seem to recall several worries at this stage. This is not unusual as Tom Jones sang. I’ve to clean the mess up in the kitchen yet. What if I can’t stop the flow? I recognised now what the bits of white on the kitchen floor were; I think they were skin. Dizzy Dennis & Back-Pain-Brenda visited me, due to my breaking my strict instructions for the Falls Lady Sarah. As KI had no choice but to bend down to reach the lesion. It felt okay, and I was sure the flow had stopped within minutes of putting on my Heath Robinson medications. Then noticed a new bruise on my other leg. Due mayhap, to my banging it on the cabinet as I stopped myself tumbling?
The agony never stops for muggings here. By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen floor and mess, I found myself apologising to Back-Pain-Brenda… as if that was going to stop her hurting? Tsk!. Inchy’s Ode to Getting Old
A picture I’d taken and forgot to put on earlier, Today has been worthy of a two-finger gesture! The hurt, confusion, and mental conjecture, I miss nattering, a good blathering or clishmaclaver, Old age brings ills, lurgies and conjecture… Fears, and worries, one can’t disencumber. I used to ruminate, contemplate, consider, My brain’s now an expert at ecdemomania, I was considered a flibbertigibbeter, I often wonder over life, whysoever? Philosophy is hard when one’s not clever, Although, I used to be a willing forgiver… Oh, forgive me, I’m starting to yatter… Although, does this really matter? I’m also known as a prognosticator, An empath, clairvoyant, or prophesier, Closer to the grave, I’m more of a toeier, Now the brains getting slower, foggier… Just to think, I was a half-decent squash player, Ageing, deciding, opting? No, I’m now a procrastinator… With physical and mental pains… it’s a bugger! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Testing. Lighter than it was, I used the flash in error
A smidgeon of rain again last night. Judging by the mudslide?
Front car park – made a mess of this one. Blame .
Kitchen window shot to the right. The kitchen window shot to the left.
A later through-the-balcony shot. Mudslide drying up quickly.
CorelDrawing, Odeing, then blogging for four or five hours. Carers called. Nor phone calls, No Texts, no other callers. And… this is true! Guess what went down only three times in well over six hours?
Mug of Thompson Punjana tea… and a pot noodle!
After the midday Carer, Rhamat called; she bought my laundry bag, bless her, as I was about to post the finished blog for yesterday to WP.
Now, time for the dreaded full-service Shave, shower, nasal spraying, teggies, Germolene, Germoloid, Corticoid creaming of , Eye drops, and . Pain Gelling of , , and medicating the tube that is stuck in Little Inchy’s protuberance. (I cringed when I wrote that, you know!) Then when dried off with the towel, that came back from the laundry still damp earlier, Sprinkle some aftershave to stop the inevitable cuts and nicks I’ll get shaving. A splash-over with the Brut, eye-drops… Oh, I may use the as well… it’s overdue! I May Be a While...Hahaha!
I’m back – it didn’t go very well! Certainly not as planned or hoped for. ① I thought I was in need, at long last, of the . I was wrong. I realised this after about 5 minutes of astronomically induced amounts of spurting (the pot noodle?) winds finally ended. I gave up!
② Got the teeth done; results can be seen above after I’d got dressed, 2 hours later, abluted! Haha!
③ Shaving: I dropped the canister of shaving foam, and it (as dropped things usually do for me) bounced off the side of the sink and fell right on the worst toe possible; My!!!
④ Getting into the bowl of water to do my feet medicationalisationing – I got a !
⑤ Into the shower, got the heat right, and dropped the shower gel bottle. I needn’t tell you what it landed on. OUCH!
⑥ My final occurred; I head-butted the shower power box. Getting a tiny little scar for the cut that I accrued. Tsk! I did the medicationalisationing without any further injuries being suffered!
⑥ However, there was a late . Getting the Depend Protection pants on, I had a wobble getting the left leg into them. And against the floor cabinet corner… but remained on my feet!
I had to put the still-damp returned dressing gown on, as it was the only one thick enough to wear, as the weather had suddenly changed. The wind was howling now. It suddenly went dark when Carer Benjamin had been here for five minutes. As he left, I took this snap from the kitchen window. As I opened those mentioned above, I thought I would get blown over, so strong was the wind. Murky?
Later one… As I began preparing the late nosh…
Nosh Sorted! Prettily presented plate of provender…
Simply battered balls and potatoes. No-Butter butter and BBQ sauce, put on each half a potato with a bit of salt and vinegar on the battered No-Fish fish balls. Bootiful! Taste Rating 808/10! Ate it all up, put the empty food tray on the carers table, and fell into a deep sleep! Not for long, though…
Carer Richard arrived to sort me out. Although, at the time, I recall only wanting to get back to my precious, in short-supply sleep. Hehe! A STROKE OF LUCK!(At Last!). Tonight, finally, after a week and two days, of farting about trying to get the Blepharitis Gel tube to work properly… It dawned on my impaired brain what I was doing wrong! How the heck? I didn’t realise it before; it beats me! I’d tried to apply it to the eye pad like you would with a standard toothpaste tube. Then understood I had to press the thingamabob at the top to release the gel. ! Ah, well!
As usual, being woken up again was no longer interested in letting me get back to my much-needed sleep. Humph! I nearly reached a state of stupefaction a few times, but on every occasion this happened, I’d burst awake with jolting, jarring, buffeting, twitch, tremor, juddering, judder! So, I cursed a little and gave up any idea of getting any sleep. And turned on the TV. To find that replay football matches were on the channel. This comforted me; the first of the new seasons’ Premiership League game highlights were showing. The first match was Chelsea v Liverpool. I nodded off into the land of nod in the game’s first minute. Waking up with the regulation shuddering, flapping, and threshing about. Waking as the programme was finishing to realise I’d missed three other matches as they displayed the results as the programme closed Spent what was left of the morning failing to get to sleep. At least the darned left me alone.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Mayhap the oddest day of the week so far.
Unexpectedly Busy? Yes! This blog was not started until Friday. Being tired after the EENT runabout made me knackered and drained early in the afternoon. But the extra visits were all welcome, all the same. I faded very early, though; all I wanted and felt needed was sleep. Fat chance. It can’t be helped. Being a mind-testing set of visits, I had no notes as such to use, and time memory was all I had… Oh, and some earlier-in-the-day photos to prompt me a little. Here goes If Liberty-Global-owned Virgin Media doesn’t keep going down again. Naturally, it did!
05:00hrs. No night bag attached again, Tsk! The urine in the day pouch was a deep colour. Tummy ache and wind.
Did the waste bags… Carer Chris arrived to sort me.
Computer on… 2 minutes after getting it back on… Ten minutes after it returned…
Took these kitchen view shots waiting for the internet… Up in the sky. Sun coming up from behind.
Carer Kara arrived. And a blessing she was, as she usually is. She got the bank payment for my Easy-Link debt payment. £79.00 was put through to the bank and sorted. Emailed Easy-Link to confirm it. No reply yet. Did the eye drops. ♥
Struggled, and it was time-consuming, but I finished the Wednesday blog and posted off to WordPress.
The landline flashed. It was Phlebotomy Nurse Hristina. To tell me she would call tomorrow morning to take the Warfarin INR blood sample for analysis. ♥
The Asda order arrived. Nibbles Frozen favourites! Fresh food treats! Drinkies to help the bladder Fridge refilled now
I thought I was doing well on the odeing, then the rush of helpers arrived – Bless Them All!
Two District Nurses arrived. I’d hoped they were going to remove , so that I could have a go at seeing myself after the Finasteride course of tablets had finished. I did not realise that the penicillin tablets had run out, and not the above. I was hoping to give manual wee-weeing a go, and that I could pass water voluntarily again. With the (hopefully) now-reduced in size Prostate. If the tablets had worked. But they seem to have put me on another course of these. The embarrassment brought forth some witticisms from my lips. As the nurse reached for some of my kitchen towels to cover me up – Carer Kara came in while they were ‘doing me’, and I quipped, a postage stamp would have done! Hehehe!
I remembered I’d got some potatoes in the oven for my meal. Kara kindly went to check on them for me. A Lidocaine (a local anaesthetic) and Chlorhexidine, (an antiseptic) tube were shot into Little Inchie. Stings a bit, but a nurse laughed and mimicked, “Oh, oh, oh!” Which took my mind off of the pain. Clever gal! Then… Dang-dang-dang, Dang! The insertion of the new tube began… Naturally, my being the brave, heroic sort of young man, there was no grimacing, chewing of the cushion on the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner which I was sat on, howls of pain, nor exclamations of any sort, like, ARRGH! or anything of that nature while the tube went in. . But this inserting nurse was a no-messing-about one; I think she did it last time, too, straight in unhesitatingly. It was soon all over and settled! Thank you! ♥
Kara did the eye drops and medications for me.
Then I got the meal ready. Simple food for a simple man. Hehe! Flavour rating: 7.2/10, fair enough
Night carer Chris came early. Which made me think I could watch my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ episodes. I fell asleep after he’s done the eyes and medications, as he sat at the Carers desk. I woke up, and he was on his mobile. No doubt female related. It sounded like he was speaking his native tongue, so I kept my eyes shut to avoid disturbing him for some time. He got the night bag onto the Catheter for me, the pouch in the drip tray, and off he trotted.
No chance of watching ‘Heartbeat’; the first episode had almost finished, and not that it mattered cause I drifted off to sleep again. I’m doing a lot of that lately? Twice at the hospital, several times yesterday in the flat, and now again!
I was woken around 20:40hrs, as Carer Chris came to do the last 22:00hr check. Eye drops and Peptac.
No sooner had he left, I fell asleep again!
This time I was almost jumping awake every few minutes, repeatedly. It wee’d me of this did!
I got up, grabbed and hobbled into the kitchenette for safety checks. Being so tired, I thought I may have left a tap running, a door open on the fridge or oven on from cooking the potatoes. All was okay.
I took this Kodak shot of the beautiful late sun setting. To my Pareidolia’s Delight, I spotted what looked to me like a shrimp in this photograph. Can you see it?
The rest of the night was Sleep, Wake, Sleep, Wake, Sleep, Wake, Sleep, Wake… Grrr!
I stirred into life, with bladder and tummy pains aplenty. I’d forgotten something last night… I was disappointed that I had failed to put on the flipping night bag. Yet Again! Hence the discomfort from the bladder. The day bag must have been close to its bursting point. I forgot to ask the carer to leave a bag out in the drip tray. I got it onto the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, non-working recliner. Had to get up and empty the pouch, but got my head down again.
Stirred once more at 05:00hrs. Well pleased with what little pain and aches I had in the legs. I decided to risk trying to get my slippers on for the first time in weeks. I took a snap with the Kodak before actually moving anywhere. Nottingham Forest legs – Red & White. Hehe! Things seemed to be going well! So I made for the wet room to do meand to visit the Things went well! Although had the advantage still.
Although I didn’t realise it then, I’d had four shaving cuts. Carer Kara noticed them later on. All on the neck.
Then… after such a good start, the hip started playing up again. Worries me a smidgeon that does. Just my remembering last week’s four tumbles in four days... the left leg and/or hip giving way being the leading cause of them all. But none today yet, as I type anyway. Just a few scares when it seemed to feel like it was going, but a second later was back, just giving me the pain. Still, I’ll make myself a mug of tea for biscuit dunking, Glengettie, methinks… , I had to hasten back to the wet room, and Carer Richard arrived as I entered the door limpingly. I muttered I was sorry but have to carry on. The evacuation was different once again from ten minutes earlier. Not unusual, as Tom Jones sang. A messy job that needed cleaning up! Did the clean-up as fast as I could and went out to Richard. He looked at the leg, and to my surprise, the right one had bloated up and gone red! Nothing like it was hewn I woke. Also, I only had one of the prostate capsules left. And none of the penicillin tablets at all. He asked me to get the later carer to ring the Doctors. Carer Kara said she’s ring them tomorrow for me. She arrived just before noon and checked on the letters I’d received but had to go after she issued the eye drops, medications, and second Eye drops.
Email from Iceland. Shortcake biscuits, soup to soak the bread in, no doubt with added Borscht and seasonings. The fridge is now mega-filled!
Amazing afternoon clouds Plenty of images were spotted in these two
Teatime view, nice!
Later, through the balcony windows.
Found the photo of yesterday’s meal, but today’s seems to have disappeared now!
Evening Care called, and I took two quick, ungood snaps of the sun setting. A close-up Then a wider shot
I took a picture of the legs, ankles, feet… And it came out in B&W? Still, they looked better!
This was one of the best ‘Article-Item-Face’ finding pareidolia session photos of the year. My first thought was the whole picture could be a map of Europe in the future.Obviously, France had either had a nuclear power station disaster (Or maybe a Brie cheese farm blew up), or Putin was still in charge in Russia and was attacking Europe? The wind was blowing Westwards, and Britain copped for a lot of fallout? The idea tickled me. Hehe!
