06:00hrs: Woke up to find myself shuddering, flapping, and threshing about in the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner! Boy, that must have been some dream or nightmare I was having! I can’t recall a single thing about it, mind you. I soon realised that the evening catheter pouch was in need of emptying.
So, I rose precariously (balance not so good) and emptied it.
Off to the kitchen. lovely view out there this morning. But the wind, when I opened the window, made me glad to be indoors.
I abandoned plans for making a brew and went off to the wet room to get the ablutions sorted. I don’t think I got any cuts at all shaving.
However, when it came to cleaning my rotund, flabby-bellied wobbly, stomached body, I did hit problems. As expected: Cleaning around the inserted tube of the catheter protruding from Little Inchie… I don’t think I need to say this, but… the Fungal Lesion started bleeding! This necessitated the Daktacort ointmentationing to be done. After just a few oohs, argh’s and more fruitful words of agony, I got it finished. No bother to me, of course. With my gigantic pain-tolerance level. I stopped crying and moved on to other areas in need of similar treatment. and then got some of the eyes drops in roughly the area of the right eye. (But not a lot).
Then, the big challenge – Getting dressed. With the right arm still painful when I stretch or bend, the Mystery Sharp Stabbing Pains in the rib cage, right-hand side, and now at the back as well, of the torso, his usual warning signs of an imminent due, leaving me virtually one handed to get the clothes – which is not easy using a picker-upperer as the same time!
But I made a fine job of it. I put a plaster on the cut finger, laughed off banging my knee on the floor cabinet corner when I lost my balance and applied some Germolene on the bruised head.
Arrived as I was making the much-belated brew. (It went cold). Issued the medications, and he laughed when he said: “Now drop ’em!” Hehehe! Put my socks on for me. Fitted the replacement weekly Catheter pouch. We had a natter, and bade him farwell. I visited the , messy again, and almost black in colour this time – from the Karki of yesterday?
On the computer, Norton did a scan. Answered the mass of comments that had come in on WordPress… well, one.
There I was, sat, sitting at the computer and I realised that my right foot was warm and wet!
Yes, the pouch had been running the wee straight through, down my leg and into the slipper!
I dropped the trousers and got the bowl to stand my right foot in to catch the urine, which of course, I could not stop the flow! I threw the sock in as well; that’s not going to be used again! As the bowl started to fill up, I rang Meridian to ask for help. Tina said she’d “Pop up to see you (me) later! Both trouser legs had been soaked, and my socks and slippers – all of them had to be thrown away. Not having a lot of luck here, am I?
Oh, What a Calamity!
Arrived shortly after. Got it sorted for me. A different style of open-closure thingamabob fooled us, a press-through instead of a tap on the new pouch. Hah, well. Shame about the slippers, socks and trews having to be dished. But not as bad as it might have been, because some new slippers are being delivered this very day! Via Amazon.
Warfarin, DVT nurse Hristina ♥ arrived, and I explained about my being told to consult the Doctor about my leaving off the Warfarin before the Cystoscopy Procedure.
Hristina rang the surgery, explained everything, and they said they’d ring me back later on. Great!
The Sherington Park Surgery rang.
Told me I had to ring the hospital to find out about the Warfarin. This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor? Farcical doesn’t come into it!
Came. Telling him about the problem with the Warfarin and thought I’d better ring the DVT Clinic, as they control the Warfarin and arrange for the blood tests to be calculated. I got what I thought was the telephone number for the DVT clinic from the web, but it turned out to be the Queen’s Medical Switchboard.
She would not put me through and told me to ring the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital – This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor?
Ty took over the phone and got the number of the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital. He’ll ring them tomorrow, but he is too busy at the moment to do it. Ty brought in the laundry and deposited the bag in the front room for me. Checked taps. But did not watch me taking the tablets… I thought I may have kist in through the missing teeth, but we could not see any under the cupboard. Off he went, saying he’d see me later.
So, more hours lost getting nowhere! I’m so frustrated and am still unsure of what to do about the Warfarin dosages.
Finally got the Monday blog completed and made a start on this one.
I got the laundry hung up and put it away. But the stretching and bending brought back the calmed down stabbing pains again. I’m not happy with these mystery pains! U just hope they are connected to urology problems and not something new ailment-wise. I’ll give you an idea of them… ARGH!
I could do no more now. Uncomfortable with the pains, tired out. Pathetically mega-depressed and irredeemably frustrated! Sorry for myself, I suppose? Let’s face it, nothing much is going right for me, is it?
Repeated catheter bag emptying.
I’ll get something to eat, methinks. No bread, no butter. A few chips, gravy, Ah, well, that’ll do.
Took a snap from the kitchenette window, showing my spare 3-wheeler walker on the balcony.
Also, the gravel path I used to be able to get up on my walks through the tree copse. So sadly missed.
My bread and butterless meal was thoroughly enjoyed.
I forgot to photograph it, so took one of the empty bowl after the food was demolished. Hahaha!
Woken around 2125hrs, as arrived. I was still half-asleep. Richard got the night bag attached to the day bag and the pouch in the grey bowl. I’m sure we had a chat about something – likely me moaning about not being able to find out about the Warfarin leaving off… Yes, I think it might have been.
06:25hrs: I woke up with a shudder and judder and immediately got stinging pains in the knee from the catheter.
I investigate the cause. I’m like that, you know, curious. Haha!
I found the top holding strap had somehow gotten twisted; that was what caused the soreness. I’m like lightning, ain’t I? Hehe! Also, the bottom holding strap had come loose, and without thinking (I do a lot of that, as well!). I bent down to adjust the lower strap… A mistake that was! The pin from the mystery pain that has moved from the stomach to the back of the ribcage kicked off, and it’s not flipping well stopped yet! (19:00hrs) But of course, I’m used to pain now, and being the heroic, brave, manly person that I am, laughed it off!
I used the picker-upperer to get the night pouch from the bucket. Well, not much wee-wee went in there last night?.
However, a cheery sign was the colour of the urine, not a sign of any blood or sediment as with yesterday morning.
2: As I rose from the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner, I was soon back on the bum, testing the durability of as I pummelled back onto the recliner. 3: An burst into life, giving me a good buffeting, belting the right elbow on the arm of the chair. 4: knocking off a bottle of spring water from the Ottoman… 5: Which landed in the safety bucket, bursting open the night bag! I’ve had a better starts to the day!
I painfully detached the night bag without any mishaps. (I can’t claim that very often!) And off to the wet room… gingerly: I had the bowl with the wet wee and bags in, and Metal Mickey (The three-pronged walking stick), And voiced a prayer en route that an would not start again on the way. 6: I learnt on the way that the mystery stabbing pains had now reached the back of the ribcage. And using the right hand to hold onto Mickey made them worse… or brought them on because when I got in the wet room to clean the bowl and wrap up the night bag for disposal, the pains stopped when I put the stick down. Is it any wonder that I get so confused?
The need for the arose. Most conveniently, for once, as I was about a foot away from the Throne at the time. I anticipated another messy, gooey, sticky, clingy evacuation, as it has been for the last four days – but no! Good heavens, I’m having a mixture of good and bad luck now! I barely needed the toilet paper. I thought, clearly, my luck was changing for the better here. .
From this stage, my concentration and memory cells withered as I was doing the ablutions. Vast periods of time when if I did not make notes or take photos as a prompter – dissolved into the ether… never to be retrieved. I was doing so well on blog writing, I thought, but going to the wet room terminated any and all traces of my previous smug-Mode
Amidst the unreadable parts of the notes, there are repeated mentions of the mystery pains. Seemed they were bad all day. At this moment, many hours later, and much missed events too; nearly 20:00hrs; the mystery pains slowed down a lot, and my concentration returned… too late to save the quality & humour I think I put into at the start of the blog. I’ll run through the readable parts on the notepad’s pages and use photos that I’ve taken. During the day, Carers Sam and I think Kara called for the first two visits. Words I picked out tell me they were both pleasant, helpful visits
Carer Ty did the next two visits.
I took this photo, for some reason, of the box of Cefalexin Antibiotic. Out of interest, I looked up the side effects.
❶ Abdominal or stomach pain. ❷ Clay-colored stools.
❸ Itching or rash. ❹ Blistering, peeling, or loosening of the skin. ❺ General tiredness and weakness. ❻ Nausea and vomiting. ❼ Red skin lesions, often with a purple centre. ❽ Other Medical Problems:The presence of other medical problems may affect the use of this medicine. Make sure you tell your doctor if you have any other medical problems, especially:On Warfarin or Clopidogrel: Check with Doctor before taking it.Colitis (inflammation in the gut), history of orDiarrhorea, severe, history of, or Seizures, history of—Use with caution. This may make these conditions worse.Kidney disease or Liver disease—Use with caution. The effects may be increased because of the slower removal of the medicine from the body.
Compared to some of the medications I’m on, this one sounds safe. Well, apart from the Warfarin… I must ask a Carer on Monday to check with the Doctor for me. I know I’ve going to see her on Friday, but from her surgery, I am going to the City Hospital afterwards for the Systopcopy Procedure. So I need to know in time if I should stop the Warfarin taking as recommended.
Ah, my Angel Hristina ♥ from the DVT Warfarin clinic is coming for my blood on Tuesday; I could ask her?
I must have taken a shot of the rain sometime today. It looks like in the morning, mayhap?
Helped me with checking the Catheter bags. We had a nice natter for a short time. I think I was out of it when she arrived. According to the guessed-at wording on the notepad, I was not sure what I was doing in the wetroom when she arrived? I think!
Apparently, it took me two hours to get the ablutioning done. Getting trews and PPs on and off was harder than usual. (Not me talking, it’s on the pad) Haha!
Arrived, again, the memory and unreadable scrawl prevents any details.
Next on the written list: Blog Yest has done. Emminmer?, then Pinterested.
Carer Ty: Don’t think I enjoyed this visit. Tabs wrong… attitude?
Blogging, and wandering mind.
Carer Ty.
Tried to clean the kitchen. Has to stop. Although the mystery pains were getting less often, they always started when I bent down or rich (I assume that should have been stretch?)
Night bag farce.
Nosh. Feeling more with it now; no Ty coming again, bully. Oh, yes, he’s on the late check call, and in the morning… Humph!
04:20hrs: Trouble ‘t Mill again, straight away. was bleeding during the night. The inserted tube pulls whenever I move, stretch or bend, I imagine. The new ailments just keep coming! Didn’t bother me, of course.
Off to empty the catheter bag. The last day of the week is today for to call. He took the night bag off and routed the wee-wee to the day bag for me when he came. The man’s been a comfort, laugh and God-Send during the recent medical problems. When he arrived, Richard soon got the bags swapped and adjusted the strapping. We had a natter and laugh after he gave me the medications and pulled my leg a bit. Not literally, Hehe!
I got a phone call from the Nottingham City Hospital Urology Department. By good fortune, the lady spoke slowly after I said I was hard of hearing, and I just asked her to repeat the time and date of the appointment they’d made for me.
It’s for Friday, 6th January 2023. At 11:20hrs, and was very patient while I checked the calendar to check what time my Doctors appointment on the same day was. It was okay; the doctor was at 08:30hrs. Thanked her doer being patient with me. Of course, I went into panic-mode-Grade-three. Now I have to try to sort a lift out for both appointments… not too bad a situation with the timing, mind you. If I can get and lift, I can get the Doctor and book a pickup for an hour later, I don’t mind waiting if I get seen too early… Hahaha! the things I come out with!
Then go straight to the hospital; in time. I hope!
Then the trying to book with Easy-Link problems came to the fore.
Over the next three hours, I tried to get through to Meridian six times and Easy-Link five times. No luck!
Blogging
Arrived. Another Saviour! ♥
Emptying the Day Catheter bag. Getting through to and booking lifts not only for the 6th January, doctor’s and but the 9th February at the .
Checking & emptying the day bag. During which, if had not been there, I’d have taken a tumble backward onto the deck! She caught me in time. Thank You, Lisa!
Just spotted these two evening shots from yesterday’s evening view.
After 5 days of going Porcelain Throne usage-free – things started moving. Not-half!
❶ 13:50hrs: First visit. Messy, but not a lot of it.
❷ 16:00hrs: Gooey, sticky, light khaki. Stinking more.
❸ 17:05hrs: Four dollops of giant meatball shaped evacuated. Darker khaki.
❹ 1840hrs: A large selection of dark brown giant worms. ❺ 20:44hrs: Sloppy mess, very light-coloured, little smell, though.
Well, a right mixture there. I’m hoping that when the late call comes and the night catheter is fitted, I don’t get any more summoning to the .
Arrived. Got the medicines sorted. Little chin-wag shared.
At long last, a good stand-up wash and shave with my feet soaking in the bowl with Dettol.
Three cuts shaving, dropped razors, shaving cream, flannel, toothbrush, carbolic soap, nailbrush… and possibly a few other things. Knocked stuff off of the floor cabinet – twice! Nearly took a tumble again. And gave the wet room door a shoulder charge on leaving.
Found this morning’s car park photo; making a mess chronologically, aren’t I?
Arrived and made me a mug of tea; bless her ♥. Gave me the Peptac and washed the plastic pot for me. And she saved me from another tumble: I think I mentioned that earlier.
Got on with blogging. Then answered some WordPress comments.
Got a meal cooking, Cottage Pie and seasoned sliced mushroom.
Took this photo as I put the food into the oven.
Making a bas job timewise.
More photographs from this mid-morning.
Must go now and get the nosh served up.
Back in a bit.
I hope this is going to be fun...
Walking stick, evening wee-p[ouch to carry, a meal to make…
And then getting it back into the front room to eat…
Wish me luck.
I’m not too confident about this, not being an Accifauxpa-free exercise.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHIES TWO HOSPITALS VISITATIONS ON THE SAME DAY ODE
06:05hrs: After a night of multiple wake-ups requiring a wee-wee, I stirred. Got up with relative ease for me; catching the balance took a bit longer than usual, but I felt fine.
I could smell the wee-wee from the bucket from where I stood. I thought I’d got to use it and thought I’d better get it cleaned and disinfected before any carers came, straight after the peeing – which didn’t take place… the biggest shock in a while hit me as I looked down at the bucket! But I did notice how full the container was, compared to the average night/morning I got my glasses on, and that is when it hit me – the amount of blood in the urine shook me.
Also, when I took my leak, the contents of the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) started bubbling as I pickled into it! The camera was in the dressing gown pocket, so I took a shot of this. I needed to use the .
Which I also pictured after taking a no-content evacuation. All that came out was blood and wind! Now, I was worried! I checked the back passage as I papered it; there was no blood on it at all?
I took another wee-wee in a cleaning pot, as I thought, surely I’m dreaming here?
But no, it was a colourful medium red. Now, I was pretty worried!
From this point, and for over the next two days, I have not passed any urine through Little Inchie without the catheter on. Nor any matter from department. Then again, I’ve only been given food once over the two days, and it was very welcome! Oh, no, sorry, I had two slices of cold toast Tuesday morning at the City Urology Patience 2 ward. Arrived to the rescue yet again. The lads listened to me, a rarity with certain people, and acted immediately on seeing the blood. Richard made up a bag with a dressing gown, slippers and toothpaste and brush, PP’s included.
He waited for the paramedics to arrive and left after explaining everything needed to them.
The ambulance took me on the journey to the Queens Medical Hospital, depositing me in the A&E unit. Where I was placed on a trolley in what I think was corridor A.
My hopes rose, half an hour later, a porter came to move me into corridor H. The same chap came along an hour or so later. This time he moved me to Corridor C or something. A wider one this time, but still only room for one line of flesh trolleys. I got the Lumix and crossword book out. But it was hard work making out the clues, and filled in answers to the wrong clubs several times, then gave up. 30 minutes later, I made it inside the A&E unit.
Cheered me up a bit, seeing only about 80 trolleys in the main hall – I was getting there!
Mostly drunks at this time in the morning. Ah, Christmas spirit, the main reason, of course!
Moved me into the side room, and they fetched me out again minutes later. Ah, progress here, I thought! About to get the crossword book out again, and a lady told me I was going for some scans.
I was taken off of the trolley, given my stick and asked kindly, “You can walk with yer stick then? It was more of a threat than a question.
He looked a bit rough around the edges, so I readily agreed that I could manage.
They walked me into a cold side room
An eerie room; it stank of depression and vomit and had an icy coldness to it.
A largish area, an equipment stand for the BP taking, it didn’t look in good nick.
A mobile radiator (I think), a roll of carpeting, and a single wooden table with one metal leg hanging off. I got the crossword book out again, took these snaps, and the biff man returned with a petite but stern-faced female; “Follow us”
So I followed them into a scan room. They spent a good while scanning my privates and belly area. Then, out into the big waiting room again.
It was a sad sight seeing so many people looking angst, agitated, and generally well pissed off.
Although a few of them seem to have the will to live.
I waited there, back on a trolley, and a lot of medics came to see me over the next two hours. Many asking the same questions… there were a lot like that at both hospitals.
The only sleep I got in 48 hours, I think about ten minutes, was rudely awakened by several nursing staff, all intent on getting rid of me ASAP. I was bundled into a corridor and awaited a lift to the Urology department. The stockcar driver, I mean ambulance driver, gave me a roller-coaster ride to the City Hospital. Where I was wheeled to a bed and told to sit on it. I did. And was told somebody will be with you later.
I thanked the lady. Rescued my bag from a be away where the ambulanceman had left it and sat on the bed in Patience Two Ward. First floor up.
A nurse came and gave me two jugs of water, asking me to drink it all down, and ask for more when I had done so.
So I did. Various nurses, doctors and Mr Men came to see me. The BP and temperature were taken every half-hour. A blood sample was taken for testing each hour, on the hour. No sleep again!
Then there was the thing that was supposed to make me pass water. Drink it by the gallon, which I think I did, and they took off the catheter. And the guzzling started. Five hours later, they did another scan and put the catheter back on to rid my bladder of urine. An hour later, the catheter was put back in (A painful experience in and out!) More water guzzling. Scanned again, and the catheter was replaced painfully. (I’m sure the Doctor had a smile come over her lips each time she put it in or out?)
Back in the scanner loop again. Nobody informed me of any of the results. But they were up to the neck with patients in need. I assumed they would tell me later, but no! Mayhaps they’d got fed up with me not understanding or hearing what they were saying? I found out later they had sent all my details to Meridian Carers. Wish they had told me. Just as well, though. I may have gotten the facts and figures wrong. So, fair enough.
They took off the Catheter for the last time to try once more to force out the urine. So, back to the water-drinking marathon. It didn’t work. A Shame!
They then suddenly arrived at the bed, mob-handed. They spoke so fast, I must have missed 50% of whatever they said; I recall rightly I believe in hearing: Sending you home… Keep the catheter on for seven days and use the night ones? Erm… Night ones? No mention of the new medications or what the unknown reason was. And they took no interest in my telling them I’ve not passed from the rear end in three days now?
They started cramming my stuff into the big BM bag I’d taken with the things Carer Richard had gathered for me on first leaving the house. This all happened at break-neck speed, and a nurse came to them, ‘The taxi’s here!’ Another well worded: Surely you can walk down to get the taxi – meek me; “Yes, no problem!” I was in the right state by the time we got in the lift, along the long corridor and out to the waiting taxi.
Then the trip home was most uncomfortable. The driver, I called him Sterling Mosseth, was not hanging around, and the springs or whatever they are called nowadays were about worn out. Every crack and pothole, speed bump, and fast-breaking en route was painful.
I was not in good condition by the time I got into the flat. But at least the lifts were working. I got in the flat and put the bag down, but I forgot to call the Meridian Care office to tell them I was home.
I got down in the lift, and after opening the door to the link corridor with Winwood Court, I met, coming the other way to my flat, Carer Kara, Sam, or Jodie. Any names that I get wrong for Carers, I apologise; blame can be put on Non-Carer, .
We got up to the flat. The carer checked out the Catheter. We had a chinwag after she gave me the medication, and a bit of humour crept in. Hurrah!
After she’d left, I went to make a brew of tea. Glengettie… nothing but the best!
And took these two photos of the evening view. The first one I make a pig’s ear out of!.. But was almost on the verge of having a . But remembered those I took last week that seemed fins on camera. So, . did the late call tonight. We got the medications done. Then Richard opened the letters etc., that the hospital staff had stuffed into my carrier bag. Not easy learning about how you need to set these catheters up got the first time. But Richard mastered it, all working, and the night ones fitted me. He gave me a tip, and that was to put the Night Bag in a bowl, then it’s nice and low, and if, or as in my case, when you do have a split bag or a connection breaks, the bowl will catch it! Good idea! He also warned me that if I come off of them, the fun will start because I’ll still think of the catheter if they are removed; I’d no doubt wee away without realising. Argh! Hahaha!
I had planned to do a bit of work on this blog and get my head down. But, things, as usual, got carried away, taking so long yet still enjoying doing the blog… After a while, I risked going to take a break and make a Thompson’s Punjana brew.
❶ I went through to the kitchen and got the kettle on. ❷ Made the tea and realised the difficulty I faced: One cannot carry a mug of tea, a bowl with a catheter in it, and a walking stick together! ❸ My keen, alert, logical (Well, it was a year ago) mind soon sorted out the solution to the problem (I thought). ❹ I’d simply take the bowl and walking stick to the front room and return with the stick to collect the mug of Punjana… Mmm! I bet you can see the problem even if I didn’t at first?It’s like those training courses at work, innit? ❺ I took the bowl back to the side of the computer, turned to go back to get the mug, and realised this was not going to work when the bowl tipped over… well, it would; still being connected to the catheter! ❻ I did feel a fool! . I honestly thought what a I was at the time!
Then yet another Whoopsidangleplop, although I’m not sure it wasn’t closer to a , or might be nearer to the point. A nasty one this time. Yet it could have been worse. As the leg kicked out with its energetic but short-lived imitation of the Oky-Koki.
04:30hrs: I woke up juddering and acclimatised myself to the current renewal of consciousness.
Needed a wee-wee, hauled my gigantic mould of flab from the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner, and caught my balance.
Took a wee; that had some PMAD (Post- Micturition-After-Dribbling). And took the bucket to be emptied, rinsed and refreshed. (To say how little I passed, the bucket was surprisingly half full)
I took these snaps of a clear morning; there was no fog lingering this Christmas Morning. Well, in my misty mind, perhaps! Got the kettle on, sorted out some new potatoes, removed the shoots growing out of them, and got them in the slow cooker. Added some of the delightful Polish Winiary sauce, very tasty indeed. Winiary Przyprawa, it’s named.
A mystery photo was found later on. This is it on the left here. As I recall, I’d just cleaned up the sink, and this is the cloth soaking in the bowl? But why?
Got a brew of Thompson Punjana tea made up.
Got onto the computer and dunked four shortcake biscuits into the tea.
Checked the notepad. Took an unwilling wee-wee. Washed and went back to the computer to finish the cold tea.
Continued to visit the bucket, with short, painful trickles of urine regularly for the next two hours. The computer work was farcical. Couldn’t see properly, had zero concentration, and talk about making errors!
Would you believe it? The Liberty-Global-Virgin Media went down?
Gave up on Fries’s rubbish Internet service
I took this picture to try and take a shot of me waving in the reflection on the balcony door glass.
I made a mess of that, too. The computer came back on, and I’d had a flood of WordPress comments come it.
So I replied to it. Hahaha!
Well pleased with these results!
Ah, he’s not gone out to see his children with the Christmas Presents kids he’s built for them… or was it him making the noise?
Called 12 minutes.
Called four minutes.
Three minutes.
Hello, Herbert banging again; only lasted a minute if that? Hope nobody has broken into his flat.
Jillie called, bad line couldn’t hear her, she gave up.
Rang her back, but with my hearing so bad and the dodgy line, it was a struggle to make conversation. I think she is poorly.
Sister Jane rang, but the same thing, and she rang off.
Rang her back, and it was not any better. She did manage to tell me off about a few things I was doing wrong or ought to be doing. But she was talking so fast, I lost most of it.
Made an Asda order for next Tuesday 28th, from 11:30 > to 12:30 hours.
Well, would you believe it!
I went to have a look around and make a brew while Mr Fries, Liberty-Global-owned Virgin Media, was yet again offline.
I’d left the hot tap running. Obviously, did not check it, or did he? It might be me getting mixed up here; either way, no hot water to get the done!
Made another brew, Glengettie, this time.
Took a shot of the car park from the kitchenette window. Made up some waste bags.
Emptied, cleaned and sanitised the Wee-wee bucket, and disinfected it.
From this point, the wee-wees became less painful, and some of them were not sprinkly. Yes!
God heavens above, it’s 21:20hrs already!
Better get summat to eat then. Cottage pie and potatoes sound good enough for me on this depressing, lonely, miserable Christmas Day.
CHANGE OF PLANS: I’d forgotten I had the new potatoes in the crock-pot. And the Vegan stuffing was on its use-by date, so I had them with tomatoes and a few tomatoes, followed by a pot of mandarins in orange jelly and a pot of my favourite Lemon Soy yoghourt. Taste rating: 702/10.
I poddled cautiously into the kitchenette to wash the pots, and the stomach and back pains got a lot worse for some unknown reason.
The evening sky looked like one of those that looked more like a water painting than a picture. Bootiful!
It took me a long time to get to sleep; due the and the even more crippling stomach and back pains.
But things were about to get worserer!
The next blog with all the bare, sordid details will Cover Monday and Tuesday – all spent in the Queens Medical A&E Centre, then Nottingham City Hospital Urology Wing.
02:30hrs: Woke up for the umpteenth time, but not with , but the need for the And what a change in style this morning it was! I got seated on the throne and knew it would be advisable to get the crossword book out. Nothing was moving, yet the tummy told me there was a dollop needing to be evacuated. was in command of things, and he was not going to be rushed. I actually got a few clues answered as I waited for the action to begin. I thought it was comical when it did burst out… all of it in seconds, a blessed relief from the travel pains, followed by multiple plop-plopping sounds. And it was all over. No bleeding, no mess! I am not sure if the released product reminded me of hazelnuts or chocolate peanuts, but fell for the nuts cause they were harder. The WC needed only one flush to clear the contents away, and I felt rather good; I expected things to be more painful, messier and take much longer. No help or urging from me was needed at all. However, having been fooled before, .
Tackled then. Toothache Tiffany followed my breaking off another bit of a tooth.
Not such a good shaving session; back to the old habits of multiple nicks and cuts. About six, I think. The main reason is my own stupidity. After my first two nicks, I got out two new razors and dished the old ones – But No, I found out later I hadn’t! What I did was throw the new razors into the waste bin and carry on shaving using the duff old ones!
More Followed in the medicalisationing activities.
Made a bigger mess of missing the eyes with the drops than ever before! Had to conserve the Germoloid cream for. I forgot to get another tube when I went to the pharmacy on Tuesday. Yes, I swore at myself rancorously! I was so close to taking a Galpharm capsule in mistake for a Senna to help free ‘s grip on the rear-end workings. Just imagine if I had taken one… That could have been a right pickle and mess I’d put myself into again! A genuine bit of good luck that I realised in time!
But, of course, my smugness was short-lived. Putting the olive oil in, I somehow squeezed the rubber, and the oil flowed, I dropped the slippery bottle, and it landed with perfect precision: right on my left foot’s . It made me jump a smidgeon. Of course, I took it all in my stride, grinned and laughed off the agony.
I dropped the tube of Germolene due to an unexpected sudden and I dropped tube, and totally without thinking, I bent down to pick it up !
Oh, I’ve mentioned my new ailment yet, have I? I’ll introduce you to it then. Not easy giving it a name cause I’m not sure what it is yet.
Pains similar to , but around, the back of the rib cage. At first, I thought I must have banged something when I took the tumble on whatever day it was. But Carer whatshername could see no bruising.
Then I thought it might be something to do with bladder and urine infection coming back again.
Then I changed my mind cause I found the ribs hurting when I tried to lift my right arm; and if I tried to bend down at all. No idea if means anything, but had given many more bouts of the shakes this morning than she did all of last week?
Now, over the last eight hours, there have been times when there were no stabbing pains at all (unless I bent or raised my right arm), but the sharp stabbing pains always return and stay longer than the moments of relief.
I thought at first, well, it’s good luck that I have made (Carer TY did, actually), an appointment to see the Doctor. Then it dawned on me, it is 15 days away!
So, I’ve been at the analgesics more than I would have liked. But needs must. Is that the right saying? Needs must? Grammarly has not objected?
Right now, as I am typing my errors and mistakes on this blog, has just kicked of with her most violent attack of the day yet. But the stabbing pains in the ribs are now far less frequent? I’m confused… but that’s nothing new.
The last Accifauxpa of the , was only one of the regulars… No, having said that, I’ve done this for weeks, I don’t think? It was a bog-standard shoulder charge at the edge of the wet room door on leaving it. . And… please note this – there were no revenge shakings from . I’ve confused myself even more now?
It’s taken so long to get up to here on this blog – Blog time at 07:00hrs, but the real-time is now… sod it, the clocks stopped, battery kaput, methinks. I’ll get the spyglass and look at the computer clock… hang on… 15:18hrs, I just will not have time to put everything in detail now. Shorthand from here on folks, sorry me hearties!
Worked on updating and making mistakes on the Friday blog (4 hours). Got it posted. Pinterested. A massive amount of comments had come in on WordPress, so I replied to it. (One. Hehehe!) Emailed the link.
Carer Jamina arrived around 07:30hrs. A new gal to me. Lovely lady. Had a natter after giving me the medications. She checked the taps and stove on leaving, taking the waste bags to the chute for me. ♥
Went on WordPress Reader. But it wouldn’t give me access to some sites?
The Tap-tapping, bang-banging, drilling gentleman in the flat above kicked off again. Amazingly he was not too noisy this morning.
Pressed on, making error after mistake and hitting the wrong buttons and icons in my effort to get the Ode for the day done and Nottingham News graphics done. Harder work than ever now with the eyes so bad. I do love trying. Sorry for any errors that get through!.
Here are the early morning photographs from the kitchen. I nearly forgot them. Tsk!
Not too bad.
Had to keep going for wee-wees regularly throughout the day.
I don’t think I’ve taken so many in such a short time (six hours) before. Then again, thinking back, maybe I have; Hehe!
I just took my fourth trip to the Porcelain Throne.
I think Herbert must be going out today. Mayhap delivering some of the steam-powered toy trains to the kids at the school? All quiet now! 11:30hrs Carer Kara Arrived! I asked about the cleaner lady I’m paying for who had not called for three weeks. Kara looked at this week’s roster, and she’s on it… no, next week’s roster.
I pressed on, making cock-ups and mistakes on this blog for hours.
So tired now, with my getting up so early. Going to make something to eat, methinks some potato Rostis, tomatoes and rolls? Yes, with some BBQ sauce, of course. I might not be back until morning… then again, I may get up early again and make a start on updating this blog…
Or not.
Whoops, not done the Health Checks.
:
Smug-Mode-Adopted – Yee-ha!
A photo of the half-eaten meal of the day is here on the right. Vegan bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis, Orange yoghourt, and two brown rolls.
With my usual BBQ sauce.
Despite the and that kicked off as I started digesting this feast of flavour, I still enjoyed it muchly. Flavour Rating: 8.8/10!
Washed the pots… but when I got in the kitchen to do them, I found that I’d left the darned hot water tap running… Again! Self-cursing began!
Zzz! Deep sweet sleep… heavenly… I think I was having a tête-à-tête with St. Peter at his gates at one point. Well, more of an argument, really; he wanted to send me back to life again. No Way! Not with the everyday agony of the ailments, struggling with hearing, seeing, and the Mental-Torture of Dementia Doreen – I wasn’t having that!And, she’s given me aboulomania!
I was woken up when the 21:15hr late check call arrived at 22:10hrs. I recall the gal apologising for being late but little else. My chronology clock was all topsy-turvy. I remembered the Toblerone for her cause it wasn’t in the treats box this morning, so I got something right. Locked the door as she departed. (I know this cause it was locked in the morning).
Got off back to sleep, but this time it was full of the usual repeated, regular pullulating jerking awake with the twitching right shoulder, and often knocking something off of the ottoman as the limbs flail! That’s not right, is it? I did tell the Doctor about this. The response I got was an odd down-the-nose look that said to me: “The man’s potty!” followed by, let me know if it gets worse. What’s she waiting for, the arm to drop off? Or, for me, to pass away through sleep deprivation? It’s a lot worse now with extra waking-ups from the unaccountable …
03:30hrs: Stirred, passing wind, and rose from the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner; caught my balance, and off to the wet room, taking the extremely full looking NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with me for emptying and sanitising. Not an easy job when using the four-pronged Metal Mickey stick.
Not much to report today. It took me that long to get the things above done; it was almost tea-time by the time I got this part tackled – with few notes on the pad as well, as well.
Took a photo.
Got on with the updating of yesterday’s blog: a few more hours lost.
Pinterested some photos. Makes a double cock-up of great magnitude on WordPress.
I sent the template to the bin in error for updating.
Somehow or other, I got it back.
About ten minutes later… I did it again. But could I work out how I got the other one back? No! I toyed with risky actions taken, in hopes that were what I did earlier… but, No! I then lost the template altogether!
Started again from scratch!
Then, as if you didn’t expect it:
Then arrived, looking weary after his four-day shift. I didn’t want to delay him; I was his last call.
Got the medications sorted and had a mini-waffling session.
Bade him farewell, wish Bing him a good rest.
It was all computing then when it came back on for many hours.
arrived in a hurry.
More computing… well. more correcting and putting right mistakes than actual typing! Humph!
My Concentration was Zero at times. The mind is wandering… not a good sensation.
The Health Check did the taps, and oven checks gave me an extra Paracetomal. I asked him to help get my socks off and told him not to wear them again… Hehehe! Joking!
Tended to the Ablutionalisationings duties next.
An amazingly good session.
Back to the computer. Got the fodder in the oven on a low light and pressed on with this blog.
Make a meal, and back to the Porcelain Throne. This session was not so good, but I’ve had worse… Oh, the stink!
Turned off the computer.
Checked the nosh, and it looked ready.
Took a photo of it. never to be seen again… off into the ether it went. Huh!
Arrived and woke me up.
Got the meads sorted and had a mini-natter, taking the waste bag with him as he departed.
NOT SO GOOD TODAY: Very little time to get anything done. The Urine Infection is returning. Anne Gyna has not yet gotten over the shortages of medications that laid me up for three days of agony nada frustrations. Between them caused a lack of concentration and depression beyond belief. I think I’ve also got the lurgy that Richard had. Link above to first Snippet. So not so much diary news, sorry folks,
06:15hrs: Spent the first hour of wakefulness between the wee-wee bucket and the Porcelain Throne. So many trips were needed, and all like the urine-fungal infection started last week. Putrid-smelling pee, pains starting in the bladder area, then moving all around the torso, almost to the back.
The Asda order arrived. Carer Richard arrived as I was putting it away, and he gave me a hand to do so; bless him. We spoke of the infections and my symptoms, and he said they were exactly the same as he suffered last week. His doctor told him of a new ‘bug’ going around. (Please see the link in the First News Snippet) Richard told me to ring the Doctor, bearing in mind that last week I was late in doing so, nada paid the price in pain and lack of sleep. He even wrote it down on the whiteboard for a later carer to see.
When Carer Ty arrived, he rang the Doctors for an appointment for the infection to be seen quicker this time. I got an appointment for 6th January. About 15 days’ time, that’ll help me with the urine agony, won’t it?
Spent many hours on updating the Tuesday blog, at least five! Before getting it done. Accident and mistake-ridden, I’m sure. All to the accompaniment of the blasts of tap-tapping and bang-banging with either sawing or drilling noises supplied by the blocks the smart-alecky, insensitive, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, naff, noisy nasty man, from the flat above on the 13th floor?
The pains, the noises from him above, and my still tripping to the wet room regularly. All, shattering my concentration.
Carer Ty arrived. He got the appointment with the doctor booked for the 6th of January, and he wrote the details on the whiteboard.
Eventually, I got the updated Tuesday blog posted to WordPress. (Well into the afternoon now!)
The pains seem to be easing a smidgeon from the innards. Not, I hasten to add, from Anne Gyna, she was in the full crippling, agonising, concentration-destroying form!
gave another blast of thudding and knocking; just to keep me on my toes. But it was a shorter session this time. Phew!
Sorry, I said that… just gave a little, almost musical again a blast of mechanical abbellimenti, with tempo and rubato. Once again, it didn’t last too long, but he was putting plenty of effort into it. I do hope that he hasn’t broken his hammer or chopped his chopper off, and that was the reason for his sudden silence. Or had too much of the Single Malt Whiskey and fell over, cracking his head against one of his train engine models.
Better get summat to eat then.
Got settled to watch the TV and eat the meal off the tray on my fulsome belly.
Carer Cheeky Charly Arrived. In a perky mood as per, bless her. Fed me the medicine, tablets and capsules. Soon off again on hare rounds.
The meal was tasty enough even when not so warm. The vegan bacon from Asda was a bit better than the others I’ve tried. But their Sourdough rolls (Cobs to us Nottinghamians!) were pretty tasteless. Hence a Flavour Rating of 6.5/10.
while watching TV. I was having an odd dream, something about frustrations, involving me working in a giant office complex. Couldn’t get out of the building…
But I was rescued. When woken up by arriving. He soon got the medications sorted out. The old Anne Gyna was still giving me stick, so he gave me two extra Paracetamol. He gave me some clues on marinating, we had a mini-chinwag, and Richard checked the taps and stove, then emptied the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket)for me; bless him.
Was not too keen on letting me get to sleep, so I put the TV on. That helped. I nodded off as the first round of adverts came on.
And, not so many waking-ups overnight. No more than about ten or so, as I recall things. I managed another weird dream. On a country lane, nighttime… and in my old Diahatsu Fourtrack; lost. For some reason, I started walking and whistled to the car, which followed me… vaguely recall going into a caravan with a radio playing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers… and finding dead bodies that turned out to be mannequins?
They have my support, at least!How come he avoided prison?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:20hrs: I woke; well, I wasn’t asleep really, just the odd fitful half-dose, with my rear end hanging off the cushion out of the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner. .
A bad night again for sleeping.
I was so tied last night I felt sure that my bosky would force me to get some respite and rest in the dorm of sleep. But, No!.
My friendly, compassionate neighbour above had seen to that. Two gays now, of constant banging, ta[[ing, drilling, clunking, with very elite respite; I hoped to get to sleep early, but that was a no chancer, as he started giving the hammer a bashing. Fair enough, he gave his last mechanical concerto just after ten o’clock, but I was on edge after so many days and hours of putting up with it, and I feared he may start again at any time.
He is making some things to give to the children he likes to support and visit, for Christmas, I believe.
I usually get his banging away every day of the year from Herbert (Nickname). But the last two days have been horrendously noisy for him. Doing my health no good. Even the Carers and Nurse Hristina heard him tap-tapping away relentlessly.
More so now that I’ve no Omeprazole medications to counter the pains from Anne Gyna. It seems that when the Doctor told me to double the dosages of the caps;e, she somehow forgot to tell the chemist! It got slowly worse, and no chance of getting any. Might call 111 later.
Had poor not gone sick, this would not have happened, I’m sure. It’s Richard that controls the Prescriptions. Still, excellent news on that situation; they tell me that Richard will be returning to work on Monday. I hope he’s not coming back too soon; as much as I am pleased about it, I hope he is not returning too early and gets himself poorly again. Crossed fingers!
Let’s assess the problems I’ve had to endure these last few days: or should I?
Maybe best not to…
Go on, then; I’ll make a list on CorelDraw and see how it reads. (Perusing engaged) Perusing ended)
Not nice, is it? But self-pity is not the answer! Mind you, I don’t know what the answer is? I’ve got a little muddled up here. Things may be out-of-chronological timing from here onwards.
Sorry. The stress and pain from Anne Gyna are getting to me.
This photo is, I think, the first one I took this morning.
When I was brewing my first mug of Glengettie tea. I put the milk in and got blotches of manky milk floaters in the mug. Humph!
Threw the milk away and tried the semi-skimmed – same again? Threw that carton away. rinded the bottle and box and got them in the waste bag. Tried the last box of milk, and it seems okay. Another 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?
I got the health Checks tended to. (Ann Gyna is going to be a bother here; She’s getting more and more painful!
The results, as decreed by the NHS analyser, put me in the Hypertension – Red One Zone. But, so close to being in the High-Normal pink. So that’ll do me.
I see I’ve put the photo above in with the second lot of pictures I’d taken as well. Rather sad, but Anne Gyna has got my mind all over the place now.
When I get this done, I’m going to ring 111 and ask for advice.
He said, forgetting all about doing it afterwards.
I espied in these house shot photos that the frost and bits of snow were spread around liberally.
But you’ll notice the richest house on the block (Last house photo).
That will either be the richest family in Sherwood; who can afford to heat the attic room?
Or an efficient drug dealer den.
Specifically, a cannabis growing factory, with e plants being hidden in the loft and the heating on 23/7.
I wonder if they have rerouted the electricity from next door? Well, you never know! I can’t remember taking the sky one. But that’s not unusual.
My concentration is well-shot now. No notes on the memory pad from here on. Anne Gyna was stirring again.
The beloved neighbour of mine was nowhere near as noisy as the last two days. I don’t think it was my responding to every single noise he made over about three hours by banging back on the tall bookcase cabinet; every time it started tap-tapping, banging or knocking with copied noises with Metal Mickey.
But after around 02:30 hours, things went strangely quiet on the Western Front. Hehehe! He’s probably gone to deliver some of his creations to his children and friends.
, came. Kara took the washing and returned it, putting them away for me ♥.
I went to get something to eat. After a look at what food options I had, I decided on Cottage pie, rosti potatoes, cobs and BBQ sauce. I got settled, the TV on, and took the first bite of the evening meal… Carer Cheeky Charlie arrived to give me the medications. No Omeprazole, of course, and this was the reason for the pains in my chest that had been lingering all day long and getting worse the longer I went without any pain relief from Ailment 19 – Anne Gyna! Charly gave me two extra Paracetamol tablets and Took the waste bag with her as she left for the chute.
I ate the by-now nearly cold meal and still enjoyed it. Flavour-Rating 7/10.
While watching TV. Woke an hour or so later, took a wee-wee, getting bad again. Washed the pots and returned to watch the end of the film; it had about 5 minutes to run Woke up as the screen credits for the end of the film were showing. Tsk!
And Carer Cheeky Charlie returned to give me the Peptac and check on the taps and stove. I sent to make a brew of Glengettie. Decided to take some evening shots from the kitchenette window.
The first effort was taken hanging out of the window straight down on Chestnut Way, the road and the car park. What looked like a fire engine, or stretched limousine, was, in fact, it was a normal car speeding out of the complex. I hope it wasn’t one being stolen!
A wide view of the horison and lights was taken next.
Not one of my better efforts.
The last photo was taken as I returned to the front room...
Completely forgot about the mug of Glengettie I’d just made.
The TV had been left on, and taking the photo purposely in the dark to ass a bit of mystery to it, I managed to get a .
Settled down and . Moments later, this caught me out somewhat: By what must have been the longest-lasting ever . I had to retrieve the leg from over the arm of the £300, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner.
By when I got up in the morning, I’d sprung awake at least a dozen times and had taken five wee-wees. Advice for Whippersnappers: Sleep is not easy when one wants it, but becomes rife when one doesn’t want it.
Oh, and be prepared to be accompanied in your slumber… or rather, to be awoken from your slumber by ailment 13: each and every night!
04:30hrs: I woke wanting a wee-wee, passed it, and had to go to the . A smidgen messy, but no pain and no hæmatorrhœa.
I cleaned up but had already made plans for the day while seated on the throne. I shall get the sorted out as soon as I’ve finished doing the Health Checks, and then I’ll get the medicationalisationings done. Owzat then? Me making plans, blimey!
Off to the computer. No tea, no biscuits, no depression, no, and I do believe I may have been humming the Shadows Stars fell on Stockton tune to myself!
Not the result I was hoping for; a rather high Hypertension – Two, close to the (Call 999) stage Three. I blame and all his extra long all day, and noisier-than-ever bursts of clangs, clanks, Tap-tapping, knocking and drilling yesterday for this! Thanks mate!
I did some Pinteresting when I’d done the Health Checks and updated the Thursday blog. I seemed to be doing well this morning the were not playing me up too much – but that was a silly thing for me to say; they can go offline in an instant, and the brain no longer understands the broken messages, and anything can happen then! Wish I’d keep me gob-shut!
The computer was put into sleep mode and off to get them done. I’d taken the camera in with me and took a snap of the legs after I’d stripped off; the one on the right is after the session was completed… And I’d heroically, bravely, boldly and stupidly used you-know-who to get the long diabetic socks on. Yes, I’d utilised the mocking, fearsome, finger bruising, cutting and ripping green goddess known as ! And came out of the battle with only a squashed ! And a rather large was gone into!
The shaving produced only two tiny nicks on the neck. Teggie cleaning did go badly, though. Another lump had detached itself from the left bicuspid and double molar; the blood flowed, and that took me some time to stop. Thus, started! This is because of the Warfarin INR level is high, at 4.4. (3.5 is the target) That’s why the DVT clinic has reduced the dosage again.
Germolened, Germoloided, and oiled the ear holes. And guess what? , That ignorant slobbovitch from the flat up above kicked off with his banging and knocking again!
I’d had enough to contend with yesterday, over 12 hours of it, and just had to bounce back some similar noises to inform him of the danger he was in.
They were tap-tappings, and I hit the top of the high bookcase with Metal Mickeys’ plastic handle on the hard wooden shelves. Trying to imitate the same amount of bangs (18), I counted.
This did no good, and a few minutes later, they kicked off again. Louder this time, I could clearly hear them without my hearing aids in.
I returned a volley of bangs around the top of the bookcase cabinet, and I kept it up for a few moments. And waited, stick in hand, for the reply… There were many more taps and bangs, but they were all a lot quieter, so fair enough. They stopped after a few minutes. He’s probably going out to see his favourite youngsters with his pressies? I’m dreading the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable crud-nut coming back.
Got carried away there, sorry…
Was beginning to get a smidgen worse as I exited the wet room – Smelling all nice and fresh, the smell of the medications wafting up my nose. I went into the junk room to select the day clothes… and… ! As I was reaching at full tilt to get the jumper from the clothes racking, presented me with one heck of an . Short & sharp, but it had over, and I fell into the clothes and slid gently to the floor! Breaking a few clothes hangers in the process and landing on the right knee, which did not please .
The hobble on my hands and knees out into the hallway, into the front room, and the struggle to get myself upright using the weight of the recliner took a long time, but I did it. How things were going, a . I was not hurting, apart from . But that was nothing to do with the tumble.
I soon recovered, and I made my way to the kitchenette to get the kettle on to make a brew of Glengettie.
The red line on the horizon caught my attention, and I went for the Lumix camera. It was misty, so not the best of conditions, but it still looked good to me.
Then I took a shot of the bottom field with the frost still not melted. There were many seagulls about circling and threatening, zooming low. Had they seen a rat, cat or lone dog that they often make a meal of? I missed them all in the photo but caught some a few minutes later.
Took a photo of the drug-dealers house street. You can see which it is by the lack of frost and snow on the roof; no doubt they are growing cannabis or whatever in the loft, hence it being the only house with the attic being heated?
Took another shot of the horizon.
Then one of the Winwood Heights car parking on Chestnut way. Oh... I caught some of the seagulls on their breakfast safari in this one. Hehehe! I made up some waste bags. The nice gentleman in the flat above me offered some accompaniment for me.
This time the tap-tapping was almost musical? The uncommunicative: laconic, taciturn, aloof, Laodicean, reticent, stoical, unruffled, equanimous, unclubbable, unforthcoming, stand-offish, unapproachable, haughty chap, was producing some good stuff, I thought.
A piacere, which, considering he was only using what sounded like a sledgehammer and mallet (Maybe a nail hammer as well), was pretty impressive. I was just getting into it, and he stopped.
I must go on the web to try to find some cartoons to use over the next few days. I may have to stop suddenly. For I have the Amazon deliveries that are due today, and they are currently (0335hrs) being given an ETA of twixt 03:40 > 0640hrs. Which possibly means it will be here by 22:00hrs or tomorrow.
Weary, tired, computer off.
Woke me up. Issued Peptac, checked taps and stove. Had a mini-natter. Took bags And amazon boxes with her.
Woke up by the kind, caring, sympathetic noisy Git-in-the-flat-above, Herbert. Knock, knocking for a while.
Woke me up. Meds issued. Mini natter enjoyed.
21:45hrs: Woke up to some strange different noises from the Management protected and defended, unneighbourly, superior-natured Gentleman in the flat above. Not sure what caused them, a sort of chugging sound?
22:10hrs: Ah, that’s better, back to his regulation mode of tap-tapping, with the odd clunk thrown in for good measure.
I kept trying to fall asleep again but ended up turning on the TV. Ah, that did it! Zzz!
01:30hrs: With a jerk, jump and shock! Not the foggiest idea what had caused this rude awakening? but it buggered me up, and I spent the next four hours or so desperately trying to get back to sleep – No chance until about 05:00hrs. Off into bliss!
05:20hrs: I more or less erupted into wakefulness.
I was half over the edge of the cushion on the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, incommodious, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.
For this, I blame the nightmare I was having, the slippery materialed new dressing gown I had on… and I might as well blame as well. Oh, and myself, I suppose!.
Although, is yet another possible (definite) reason for my poorlier than it should be, health. Nicknamed Herbert’s real name is John, I think, the protected from criticism, imperviable to criticism, animadversion or condemnations. A superior acting gentleman, urchin. An untouchable, pompous, arrogant elitist!. He’s not a nice person to those he’s making life a misery for with his constant everyday noise-making. Made invulnerable and defended by those in control of the Independent Living Organisation. I pray I do not meet him face to face ever again… I’ve never ever lost control physically… yet! Doing so could well see me off – but he is seeing me off slowly with his grinding, tap-tapping, drillings and knockings every single day! Such a supercilious sod.
I think there’s just a minimal iota of an idea, that he may be getting to me?...Hehehe!
