– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The fleetingness of life, so often a worry…
Well, it was years ago, death? Not in a hurry,
But existence now is endured abrasively,
Manipulated by the rich, the Oligarchy,
No race is safe, Peruvian, Welsh or Aussie,
One thing humankind perfected is bigotry,
Another is war, killing mercilessly…
Wars, for some, show profitability,
The greed, hatred, jealousy and irony,
Rulers lead, aloof, so conceitedly,
Faith, hope, love entwined with devilry,
Gone is eloquency, cometh exorbitancy,
Some exist thanks to eleemosynary,
Others believe in & practice diablery,
Some will see their end euphorically!
A few accept it, but sycophantishly,
I greet it as being somnipathy…
Death, commonsense, but with speciosity,
I’ve not lived brainlessly, injudiciously,
I’d had my moments of irresponsibility,
Albeit, at times, a smidge unintelligently,
My brain once worked reliably…
Doreen Dementia turned it into sciosophy,
Now it works partly-theoretically,
I can no longer have sex or even pee…
Do you think I’m searching for sympathy?
Of this, I may well be found guilty!
I am available as a Grandfather adoptee, I make a grand mug of Glengettie tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SISTER JANE & INCHY 1952ish SISTER JANE & INCHY2018ish
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke around 04:00hrs. I lay there in the hospital bed, doing my darndest to get back to sleep. Refusing to get up and face the world, I was determined to nod off again. Unfortunately, came on strong. I spent until 05:45hrs in misery, feeling incapable, lost, and guilty, self-hatred, confident-shattering thoughts bought up in response to TST’s ever-nagging, fault-finding, insulting torrent of bad memories. 05:50:hrs, I gave up trying to sleep.
After removing the nocturnal catheter pouch, I saw this one was a 7 on the NHS Urinometer Scale. Got myself up on my feet, the usual complaints from and . And were the worst of the ailments initially.
I grabbed it and set off for the wet room, I needed the Throne. Fearing another session with pain was imminent after the rock-hard torpedo evacuation yesterday. I gritted my teeth as I sat on the plastic seat… This was unexpected; the Karki mush splattered everywhere and was finished within a few seconds. This was so quick I anticipated a second helping would follow shortly. I removed the thick Protection Pants from Amazon, only to find I’d made a mess all over the mats and floor. The inner padding had split open again! What a mess! I cleaned the splashed-over WC basin but could not vacuum over the mats and floor as it was too early. I hate the thought that I might disturb my neighbours. Got some fresh PPs on. Now, I must remember to clean the room later – I logged in with the brain to record this message. Which was hopeful, if not futile. Of course, I didn’t remember! (As of 23:10hrs)
After washing up after the session, the hands looked much improved compared to Wednesday’s. Carer Sam thinks it must be something I used for cleaning.
I went to the kitchen to check the taps, cooker, fridge, and freezer doors. All were okay this morning. Then, I took three photos of the morning sky. The first one, I think, was blurry as I didn’t expect it to be so cold out there. The outside thermometer read -3°c. The second of roughly the same view came out better. Then I noticed two planets in the sky, the left one bigger than the right one… or was it the other way around. I’m confused cause I could not see them in the photos taken. I did my best to get a closer shot of the planets. I think Tim Price said they would have been Venus & Pluto. Not a reasonable effort or result. Mayhap I rushed this one cause I was getting cold. Hehe!
I changed into a thicker, warmer dressing gown and changed the day, date and time on my super new Korean 1969-made calendar clock.
Carer Sam arrived. We had a little laugh and nattering session. Then, we sorted out my medications and put on my diabetic socks. All are recorded in the log.
I took this photo of the bottom field below the tree copse, barren of people and dogs. A rarity indeed! The temperature had gone up to -2°c. I checked on the pickled mushroom and water chestnuts in the fridge. I think they need a day or two longer, and I added a bit of basil to the jar.
Carer Same returned. Tablets only this time. I took an extra effervescent paracetomal and Codiene 30g. Because had been joined and assisted in giving me pain by . Who was back on form with her chest wandering stabs of pain. I would have to be the two top pain-givers at the same time. Minutes after writing these words, started tugging, ‘Well, fancy said’, I said.
I dug out some Cortesteroid cream, girded my loins, and rubbed in the bream. I may have cursed a smidgeon and nearly spat. Something like ‘Oh, bother it!”
I caught sight of the state of the leading junk room. This needs urgent rectification. Tidying up, sorting out. This reminded me of the wetroom that needs some attention cleaning-wise as well. I’ve not done any of them as yet. But at least I’ve made plans to do them! Ahem!
The sun is coming out now. But it doesn’t seem to be melting the rooftops yet. I’ll look at the temperature… it shows as 0.1°c.
I got the blog for Wednesday updated and posted. I started on CorelDraw to set up the photos taken this morning. For some reason, whatever that is, CorelDraw is really going mega-slow. I ran CCleaner, hoping things would improve. I did the same via Norton straight afterwards. These runs cost me over an hour to get done. Coreldraw is still slow, but I think it is not as slow as initially. Then again, what do I know.
I started on this blog a long time ago. But it was slow-going, and later, I showed the pictures of the fire on Wednesday’s blog to Carer Christopher when he arrived. I found six grammar or spelling errors that I’d missed. I corrected them somewhat belatedly. Maybe I should just cut it down to a Cartoon, the BP, and a daily ode? But I love waffling and doing this diary.
, and , all three, which had eased off a little, all returned with a vengeance. I lost another hour or so, so concentrating on the blog was impossible. I pottered about in the kitchen doing nothing much but convinced myself I was.
17:35hrs: Carer Christopher arrived on the next-to-last call of the day. He sorted the medications. I showed him the photos of the fire and found all the mistakes I’d made in Wednesday’s blog that needed correcting. Brungleclogs! Incredibly, the lad gets calls from Nigeria every time he calls. How the World has changed. I recall having to find a telephone box, ensuring I had three pennies to use. Press button A, and if the call did not get through or answered, press button B to get my 3d back. Stack of telephone number books in there. The posters were adorned with sex-workers numbers, among others. That distinctive smell was present in all telephone boxes.
Ah, memories!
I must press on with this blog. Excuse me while I do. An hour has passed, and I feel overdrained and somewhat hungry. Tired & kicked in again! Sob!
Battered Fish Balls… With Marmite cheese, pickled beetroot, cheese-topped bread rolls with no-butter butter, & slices of tomatoes. Followed by a cream lime dessert. And very tasty, it was too! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Take Care & Keep Safe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A STAB AT STARMER? He takes backhanders, considering them as congenital,
Breaks oaths, promises he’s made, covenantal,
His stealing from pensioners; foul & conjecturable,
Every family farm, tax rises, what’s your construal?
Starmer anagrams, smarter & armrest, casuistical,
Smarter liar, airstream, materials, coincidental?
I lost my plot there, but Keir’s not coercible…
He returned his backhanders, surely choplogical?
I did no wrong, he said in his defensive cample…
Proof that this OAP killer is corruptible,
He’s destroyed honour with his commingle…
I believe that he is cacodaemoniacal,
So often, he’s been proven to be confutable,
It’s self-wealth he wants, through casuistical,
He is a fibber, this is not circumstantial,
I think he has many problems, some cerebral! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After a reasonably short but peaceful sleep, I bolted awake and banged Cartilage Chloe and my foot against the wall at the side of the bed. I laughed the matter off (Fib?)… but I was slightly concerned about how I’d tried to get out of the bed on the wrong side. But I was not surprised. When I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag, I realised I was not entirely with it. I tried to ponder what I needed to do. I knew there was some idea or plan last night, but it seemed to have gone off into the ether.
I meandered into the kitchen to check the faucets, and the cooker was not left on. Then, I gathered and sorted the waste bags. I seem to be making a lot of waste lately, and I’ve also gained more waist. Hehe! I placed the big bag near the front door and decided to get the ablutions and medication done. But first, a demand from the innards for me to utilise the . So I did. Yet again, the evacuation was most reluctant to move. My efforts were mighty and painful… then the slowest evacuation ever began. Every inch was agony! Eventually, after several false movements that got stuck, needing more effort each time to restart, they stuck again repeatedly! Finally, the monster conger eel was released! I felt as if I’d just gone teen rounds with Henry Cooper. Or, for the younger readers, Mike Tyson or Oleksandr Usyk. After washing and shaving, I noticed the state of my hands and fingers. They were becoming a bit itchy, too. As I did the medicationalisationing, Carer Richard arrived. He greeted me and said good morning as he passed the wetroom’s open door. Medications were given. He also brought up my laundry, which I hadn’t realised had been taken down.
No green hues this morning in the wetroom view photograph. But it was really blue, instead. The thermometer was showing outside as being -3c.
It was still too early to take the rubbish bags to the chute. So, I made a mug of Glengettie tea, changed the old-fashioned calendar clock, and cracked on with doing the blog catch-up. Suddenly, abruptly almost, I felt like a poorly person. I was so glad that I kept some medications handily near the computer. It was as if all the ailments launched an attack on me, well, some of them. Toothache Tiffany, Blocked Nose Ned, the cracked lip split, the nose started bleeding again and kept peppering me, giving me a rest and then returning for short periods. All of these persisted for about three hours. Then faded! Mind you, when I stood up, I discovered that I had taken over as the prominent ailment leader. She stayed a good while, giving way to me now and then and paining me. But she didn’t have me over, despite her best efforts. I shouldn’t have said that with so many more hours to go; pushing my luck a bit there!
I grafted away at the blog, and Carer Kimberley came on a one-hour call, so I fell further behind with the blog. It can’t be helped. Kimberley checked the paperwork, letters, files and emails. We could not get on the bank site, as Kara used to do it for me, and I don’t know my password for logging on. All done and dusted as far as we could. Very patient with me.
Then, I was distracted from doing the blog again by what I thought was a fire in a garden or house opposite the prison. No, the flat, I mean. Haha! Here are the photos taken over about an hour or more. I think I’ve got them in order;
First sighting as I put the kettle on. Is it a fire or not… No Fire Brigade response yet. Still no brigade. Is it looking worse? No response. It’s dying down a bit, I think.
Back on the computer. Concentration shattered now. And , and returned to torment me.
I realised that I’d not made any mug of tea and went to make one with Co-op 99. And blow me, the fire was smoking again. I grabbed the Kodak and took a zoomed-in shot of the garden, as I thought I could see a man in there. I think the man was having a bonfire to get rid of whatever he didn’t want anymore. I was surprised that no one had called the Fire Brigade. Mind, I didn’t!
I was working on the blog again and saw an advert about a blue-button farm while on the Nottinghamshire Live website. Very regrettably, I clicked the link…
ARGH! I WAS HACKED! The computer went to full screen and froze!
The mouse moved, but I could not click on anything.
Unremovable ‘Warning Messages’ galore: virus, Intruder taking over your device, etc.’
They were all stuck there without letting me close anything down. I was nervous now! Panic gripped me. I turned off the computer at the power and left it for a while. Then I booted it up again. I thought when the opening screen came on I might be alright – But No! As soon as I opened the internet, the same rubbish came back on in full screen again! Now I was buggered. How and where can I get help?
I rang ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana. She kindly said she and the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Generaloberstess, the Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie would be up later to take a look.
Waiting, I had to do something. So, I cleaned and tidied the kitchenette a bit. At least I washed some counters and cut myself down the fingernail on a knife while washing.
It seemed a worrying eternity before the Wardens arrived. Thank Heavens, they did! Deana & Julie set about working out how I could get help. They rang what I hoped was an MS Tech number on the screen amidst the tangle of windows that I could not do anything with. I could not follow things, but the gals soon got through to this number on their mobile. Julie was unsure if this was part of the hack or not. The wardens looked after it all, and they got the screen active after allowing the techies access to the computer to reset things and clear the danger (I hope). They were very patient with me, and I got, well, they got the computer going again via a log winded session with MS Tech Services on the phone. Then, they went above and beyond… They rang the bank to tell them about my losing the passwords for internet banking. This seemed to go on for hours, but I don’t think it was that long. I just felt it, as I got a stomach twist from being so nervous. They sorted it out for me after I confirmed them as my representative or a word like that. Many, many questions were answered. I could not grasp all the things needed and actioned. The Angels even set up a new password, memory list, and codes for me. They took them to type and print in large letters when they left. They’ll give me this list when they have time. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate their help! Had I tried on the phone alone, I’d have been in knots within minutes. Bless them, I was so relieved to get the computer back!
It’s very late now. I’ve been doing this description of the ladies’ caring assistance & patience shown with me.
It’s been yet another long day. I still have to update and send off yesterday’s blog. But I can at least do it now, thanks to Julie and Deana! Precious Helpers!
It’s so cold now. Freezing, according to the local rag. It’s not the Nottinghamshire Live site, so I’ll never open a link again! Unless I’m sure it is safe, I’ve used it before. Maybe never any.
I’m hungry. But I’d better update Tuesday’s blog and get it sent off, or else it may be tomorrow before I can.
A Carer called next to the last one. Can’t read her name on the logbook, but she said she is coming on the last one, so maybe I’ll remember to ask her. Grungleturds! Look at the time! I’d better press on updating. I might be back later if I’m still awake; otherwise, I’ll return in the morning.
I wish I didn’t hate Liberty-Global anymore… My distrust of them makes my brain sore, L-G bought Virgin Media, costing $24b for sure! The internet service has grown evermore poor… Phone to complain you get an AI advisor, an IVR, I wish to leave! You’ll not get an answer… You get put through to talk to another, You listen for an hour to a musical overture, Another robot answers: pick options 1 to 24, Get to speak to a human with their own agenda, Offering packages that can save you more… You stop to take a tablet, an antiseizure. Upgrade to the £240 monthly package, It’s on offer, 25.2% off until November! Of course, it’s all crap, a load of bilgewater, Then the line goes dead, Hell & Highwater! These Virgin agents are getting smarter… Their whims, cons, & deceit is getting cagier, Days later, they ring you! To tell yer… EE have a fantastic new customer offer? Also, BT has one that’s a little costlier… But their broadband is so much bigger? You’d be better off going onto our fibre! You say I’ll think about it, my dear… You ring off, thinking there’s summat queer… Are they using a sort of counterpropaganda? Their response you can’t decipher, So puzzled, you decide to consult Alexa!
The reason soon becomes plain to see… Liberty-Global bought Virgin; we agree… The Chair of L-G get a $64m salary yearly, They are so rich, beyond any moderator, Bought out/invested in many a supplier… Vodafone, BT, EE, UPC, Canal+, Three… The world’s largest cable company., Mango, Yves Rocher, Pizza Hut, & ITV plc, So, recommending offers from another company, Makes sense now, at least to me, clearly… So, they might be the biggest Oligarchy? With the world facing its fatal finale, Oligarchs beseech: Can I take it with me? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What an odd day! I can honestly say, Come what may, The morning was alackaday, The afternoon… Oh yay… The seizures refused to go away, Nothing could be done medically, I considered my options, alcoholically, Ruined my chances of adaptability, Errors in spelling, a missed apostrophe… Grammar, spelling, correcting, abominably, Plans executions all with indeterminacy, The entire day flowed with ambiguity, I say flow, twas a stutter in reality, So long and often spent condemnatorily, My own thoughts & intentions were a mystery, Ideas created, seconds later were history… No contentment, satisfaction, peace or equanimity, Yet a Carer saved the day, it was Chloe, An email arrived; Telegraph was taking my money, £239 for my supposed subscription pay?
Chole soon made this worry go away,
She cancelled it for me – Hurrah!
Seizure Sandra started again, alarmingly,
More blog mistakes, I got little done accurately,
I struggled to analyse even simple things today,
Until 1700hrs, when Sandra went away…
Typing this, expecting her to be back shortly,
I apologise for this blog, which is also shortie,
Not the right word, but it rhymed, you see,
After regaining a modicum of semi-logicality,
I did my best to try to be poetically witty
So, I wrote you all this funny little ditty,
Which you may consider a pity?
It’s less exciting than embroidery,
Neither is it extraordinary,
My mind’s less fragmentary,
I feel better; fractionally,
I’ve lost my lunacy,
I now feel… solitary,
Alone, lonely,
Is it January?
I’m hungry,
It’s back… the caducity! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got carried away there. It is now 18:25hrs. I’ve no chance of getting this done unless another one of my working through the early morning sessions. I’ll rush; forgive any blaring mistakes & cock-up, please. Here I go. No, I don’t! I just remembered I’ve got a food order coming! I’d better wait until that arrives; otherwise, I’ll be lost if the Seizures start again. Here I go, a quickie, I hope… I must not get so carried away when typing, do you hear me? Me: Yes, sorry.
Nocturnal Pouch.
Waste bags were collated & taken to the chute. Feel guilty now; it was too early in the day!
Changed the date and day on my super-modern 1972 calendar clock. Shot through the kitchen window. Rain relacing the snow now.
Made a brew of Co-op 99 tea.
Seizures started, and the following may be out of chronological order.
Balcony shot. What a mudslide!
In the afternoon, most of the morning events were lost. Carer Richard came, but I can’t read my memory notes for Richards’s visit. So, no details.
I recall taking this shot. I was flabbergasted to see they still had scaffolding on this home. Over a year now since I first saw it? Cowboys?
It took this one later.
Afternoon blue skies.
Food en route.
Evening.
Found my sense of humour when the seizures eased off. Took this snap of the Nurses and Carers nibble box. Then, this close-up. I think the Mars bars and Twix have been mating? Hahaha!
Carer Chloe helped me sort out the email from the Telegraph about them charging me for my subscription. What I can’t remember taking out? For over £200! Chloe sorted it out and showed me how to cancel it. ♥ Well, she did it!
Carer Promise did the last two calls today. With me coughing & sneezing, he found a short pair of diabetic soaks to go on and took off the long ones. Kind of him.
Later in the evening. I took these snaps
Here’s some of the nosh delivered. From the Co-op via Amazon.
Now, I am going to get something to eat, And see if any football is on the telly to watch. If I can stay awake, of course.
I will be back in the morning to update you on this.
G’d Morning! Two cheesy rolls with non-butter butter & cheese spread. Sliced tomatoes (No finger cuts). Marmite & salt added! Onion rings, pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes & onions. Water chestnuts, chicken thigh. Two naughty strawberry doughnuts to follow. The chicken was tasteless, hence a lower rating.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My biggest current hated one is Starmer,
Prospective murderer of every pensioner…
Over-taxing every single farmer,
Our UK leader, food shortage creator,
Labour Party standards & morals abolisher,
Lady Starmer shops at Harrods, not Asda,
He’s started the UK exodus, the diaspora,
Couldn’t give a toss about the poorer,
I’d love to kick him in his detrusor!
He’s a deceitful and clever truth-denier
A freebooter, ever seeking a backhander,
An out-of-order denunciator,
His talks are klutzier, a send-to-sleeper!
Blaming others for his faults, a derogator,
He thinks he’s superior, an exemplar…
A political King, a Simon Templar,
Listening to him yak, installs longueur,
Starmer’s budget was a villain’s charter,
I believe he’s infected with Cherophobia…
Except when taking a political sweetener,
He’s no vivifier but often a vilifier!
Not a captivator, more a verbal chloroformer,
The best manipulative political by-omission liar!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke up with the regulation jerk and jump. I got on the side of the hospital bed and tackled, freeing the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Carer Kimberly told me it was 6 on the NHS Richter scale card. Then I looked at the clock, seeing it was only 0350 hrs. I pondered getting back into bed, but the innards started rumbling and grumbling at that moment.
So, I rose to hobble to the wet room, quite carefully at first, as she was a little delicate, and I feared she may give way in me. This thought was forgotten as soon as I’d thought of it! The rear-end motion began to move of its own accord! . And I hobbled at my best attainable rate to the wet room… I didn’t make it in time. . I don’t need to go into any detail, do I?
20 minutes later, I cleaned up the mess, sprayed the room with air freshener and went out of the wet room door… I hit the door frame with my right shoulder as gave way. Perfect timing from Carole. Kicked off, naturally. But physically, I am used to this happening. Mentally, I get annoyed and angry, especially following the automatic-style evacuation.
Making it worse, I had to put on the bulky protection pants in case it happened again. Tchah!
To the kitchen to make a brew of tea. Why should this calm me down? I don’t understand, but many folks do the same.
I saw the snow through the kitchenette window. The photo did not come out well. So I bravely went out onto the balcony to take more pictures of the state of the roads. Starting with the front car park.
Then I opened the left end window to take this shot on the left of the car park further along Chestnut Way Finally, through the right end window of the end car park. After trapping my finger and closing the window, I wondered how many I’d had until now. I think I’d only been up for an hour; what else is in store for me? Hehehe!
I’d let the tea go cold, so I made a fresh brew of Glengettie tea. I took it to the main junk room and to the computer thingy.
Adjusted my relic of a clock calendar’s day and date. And a real rarity here… I dunked four of my favourite cookies in the tea without any of the biscuits getting dropped.
Seconds later… , . I knocked the tea mug off the desk, dropping it into the waste bin.
Surely this farce can’t go on any further? Still, getting them out of the way early in the day is best.
So, I cleaned it up and then collated the waste bins into one bag. And with no further calamities, mishaps, or !
Kicked off within minutes of me getting on with the blog. Thankfully, they were short, but so many of them over the next four hours.
Carer Shaq arrived. He had an inkling that I was not right, although I don’t think I had any when he was here. I did tell him later about them, though. He sorted the medications and adorned me with diabetic socks. We had a natter, but what about is anyone’s guess.
I went back to blogging and continued. I felt I was working well, but of course I wasn’t. Each time I returned to mock-life, I checked what had been done while I was in La-La Land, finding errors every time. Thus, it took me far too long to get it done. But I got there eventually.
I stopped to take some more pictures of the weather-bashed view. This was of the bottom field below the tree copse. Some kids had gotten plastic sleighs out and were having fun. I got the Kodak out when I saw the kids, but they had gone by the time I returned to the window. (Is this Possibly an unnoticed seizure?) No wonder I’m concerned about taking a bus and walking in traffic. Being housebound—well, flatbound—benefits someone in my condition. Haha! I made another brew of tea, Co-op 99, this time. Since it looked like just past 2 p.m. on the clock, I resisted any biscuits.
I grafted on with this blog, but I’m not getting very far very quickly, even though the frequency has slightly decreased. Anyway, the things I noticed after the event were all short-term affairs, which suits me.
I made yet another brew, Glengettie, this time. But I left it to mash for a few minutes and forgot about it. Harrumph!
Carer Kimberley called. She kindly put some cream on my bleeding lips and nose. I had not noticed. It’s not unusual for the pain from cracked lips and gums or for other pains, but I didn’t realise how much they were bleeding. Bless Her ♥. The £599.00 /100 ml Toothache pain relief spray is so effective. Thankfully, I still have some in-store to use, and I use them.
Blimey, I saw the fog descending as I returned the mug to the kitchenette. There had been cold winds, a bit of rain, then snow, and the fog was coming on. Almost eyra looking. As I write this, I just glanced at the balcony, and the fog is even thicker now. Mind you, I think I’m getting thicker—physically and mentally.
Hello, is having a go at me now. A persistent little Madam as well.
Long, well, massive periods of Mind-Blanks.
Scary that I did not know what had happened for hours.
I’ll see what fodder in the fridge and freezer can attract me to my earlier-than-usual desire for food.
The fish in batter appealed. But with frequent momentary visits from , I had the nonce not to risk fancy cooking. But I fancied these battered fish, so I risked cooking them in the mini-oven, making sure that I was doing nothing else so I could concentrate and not move from the kitchen all the time they were cooking, and I checked on them all the time. I was then aware of burn and fire risk limitations.
I ate all these without any bread—just some peas—and they were enjoyed immensely. I cleared and cleaned up. Then, I settled into 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, and turned on the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV.
I tried to put on the Oligarch’s Fibre rediculously exspensive full-of-repeats Virgin Media TV. But it would not let me. No Signal came up about 2000 times in response to pressing the button. So I gave up. I was getting weary of this.
Despite Dizzy Dennis, & Confusion Konrad, Tired-Out-Inchy won the battle and drifted off to sleep.
Carer Richard woke me up to make the last call of the day. I was in the right state! Mumbling and knowing I was doing so this time. I fear things did not go well. I’ve no idea why.
Richard departed, and I floated back into heavenly sleep. Just a few moments of waking up, I blissfully returned to the land of nod each time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I just had to copy this one! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s so important to hang on to hope, I thought of this today when I awoke, Without him, life is all upslope, You should keep him on a tightrope, Have you ever caught a single raindrop? Shouted for help from the rooftop? Lost your thoughts while taking a troke? Caught flu, COVID, shingles or croup? Did you have a heart op or a cystoscope? Been shot, imprisoned or had amblyope? Are you deaf, neurotic or have deuteranope? A catheter fitted? Had an oesophagoscope? Your feet & ankles turned a deep heliotrope? Is it different every single time you poop? Does Peripheral Neuropathy make you quoke? If something goes right, do you glope? Do you stutter or make the odd malaprop? Do all others consider you a fruitloop? To counter these things, you need hope, You must attain it, try mentally to evoke, Hope? I’ve never met the bloke! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A cold health alert has been issued for the East Midlands, warning them that an upcoming cold spell could affect vulnerable people and cause a rise in pensioner deaths. No doubt Pensioner-killer Starmer will be tickle-pink – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
It seems I’ll have to get used to every night’s sleep being broken, and the abysmal lack of rest and peace will undoubtedly see me off earlier than I expected visiting St Peter. What with our beloved PM, who robbed me of my Cold Weather Allowance? And the caregivers forgot to put my diabetic socks on again. Brrr! Still, it’ll unquestionably please the living-ready reckoner beyond the reach of any moderator, who’s a hot shot at jiggling truth and data... I mean, of course, the conspiratorial, surreptitious, duplicitous Herr Heil Starmer! Sorry about that, I got a smidgeon carried away there.
I began the battle to get out of the bed. Back-Pain-Brenda and Cartilages Chloe & Carole were unhappy being forced to move at 0500hrs. I noticed there was not much in the Ncturnal night pouch this morning. At first, I was most satisfied to see the bright colour, but when I got around to emptying it, I realised that it was one of the new ones that eBay had delivered last night. These were much cheaper than the others available but did not have a release valve. Also, the PVC, or plastic bag, was much thinner, and the urine was much darker as I cut the bag. Can’t win’em all!
I got into the kitchenette to check things; no taps had been left on, and no doors or windows were left open. I avoided going into a . The sky was fog and mist-free! That’s because the snow and ice will be brewing from Storm Darrach, bringing Red Warnings for Wind and Snow. Apparently, the lowest temperature recorded in Nottingham was −13.3 °C (8.1 °F) on 13 January 1987 and 23 January 1963. That’ll cheer up amphibologically-trained murderer Starmer. I can see it now; “200 Nottingham pensioners died in last night’s storm.” Herr backhander-taking Starmer was told, he replied, “So?”
I am so frustrated and angry! After being free of them for so long, I’d worked on this blog for nine hours off and on when the Seizures started. I was so close to finishing it when they came. I felt things were getting more manageable and more transparent, and I expected to find some errors as I seemed to have been doing it for hours while under the influence. After coming around, what I saw made me so irate and self-condemnatory! I am still stewing inside and not in a suitable mode or mood to do much! I am feeling frustrated and depressed! I could almost cry now, my temper had calmed down. Hello, it’s returning with a vengeance… I scrolled to see what cock-ups I’d made… And somehow or other, I found I’d published the blog. But even worse, I must have put it in the WP bin! Then I discovered that over 2 thirds of the work I’d done was no longer on the editor when I retrieved it. All those hours of concentration amidst seizures – Gone! It’s late and dark now. But I shall try to put some more on, but there’s no heart in it. All that work! Of course, to save space in my memory, I deleted some photographs saving space. My self-anger is building up again as I type. The sky is red, and I had to force myself to get up to take a photo; that’s not me, this isn’t me. Have I died? and am having a final nightmare? All that stuff I’d done. Some witty, some sarcastic. But it was all a little entertaining, I thought. There were many insults about Starmer – but not now. I’m even nervous to try again. Thoroughly depressed beforehand. Knowing it could happen again if the seizures or shakes return. I’m heartbroken, I think. I’m going to have to think about this. What to do?
Well, I’ve ‘thunk’.
I’ll not have time to reproduce the same quality as the old blog. I’ll probably never again produce one with the same wit and hilarity as the original. This makes it so much harder to cope with; it was a rare cracking blog. And I was so happy with it.
What the hell went wrong? I’ll not even try to get it as good… well, I can’t now in this mood, and there’s no time to try anyway. Depression is far too weak a word for how I feel at this precise moment in time. I’ll use my few notes and photos, but as I said, there is no heart in it after what I call the ‘Sodding-seizure-to-blame’ disaster. It’ll likely all be out of sync chronologically. I can’t remember the whats, whens and whys now – And I’m not all that bothered either. It could be messy.
I’ll do my bestest, but it’ll not be good.
Starting the second try… Waste bags sorted.
Carer Richard, Carer Chloe. The last two were Carer Promise.
First emptying of the day catheter.
Bloody and nearly 8500ml worth!
Fogless day.
Mug of 99 tea.
Cobblers.
I just looked on CorelDraw, and I think a few original photos were on the page—I’m sure they were—but not a Bloody one! What the hell had I been doing?
Say no more…
No record to use for two more hours.
The night shots I had to force myself to take.
Carer Promise came. In a rush, but he did listen to my moaning about myself and the computer cock-ups. Thanks, Promise.
Worries about what I wrote on the first blog… It took me such a long time to select the wording, but I have no time now, so this will be, in short – a shame. I even smiled at the original moans when I wrote it.
Current concerns;
Getting the hearing aids mended.
I have to book an appointment. The Caregiver said they don’t, so it’s up to me to do it. So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone and get an appointment…
Then I have to ring Easy-Link to book a lift to and from the audio centre… So, if I can miraculously hear them on the phone
If they can’t fit me in…
I have to call the audio centre to cancel the appointment and get another one made. That would be great if I could miraculously hear whoever was on the phone. Then, I’ll have to call Easy-Link again to see if they can get it for me that day—if I can miraculously hear them on the phone. Huh!
It’s a Circus – round & round I go… getting anywhere? No!
Six weeks now, I’ve still not got my hearing aids mended!
Another problem is that the nocturnal catheter pouches are not arriving. Richard told me I had to phone the District nurses.
If I can miraculously hear them on the phone.
An unexpected box arrived last week. Thanks to Dementia Doreen and Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, I thought the box contained the night bags.
I got down to the last night’s pouch.
Ended up spending a small fortune getting some pouches from eBay and Amazon. Luckily, Amazon arrived on Monday; eBay should arrive on Tuesday. The ones I have now do not have any release valve on them, but they were two-thirds the cost of the EBay ones. Carer Kara used to manage all these things for me; she was a blessing, not in disguise.
I had written three more problems, I think, on the first blog, but I can’t remember what they were at the moment.
Nosh! Despite my low spirits, I countered them by telling myself that whatever lousy luck I suffered, I must deserve it. I should accept these Accifauxpa & Whoopsiedangleplops without all my childish moaning and groaning, self-castigating episodes.
What you give is often what you get – despite not knowing precisely what it is, I must be guilty of it with my luck. Did you know I did the lottery for a couple of years, my neighbour, Jock, won 18 times in 1978. I never won a sausage. So, the sins I committed must have occurred before then. I lost the plot again there, sorry.
I still enjoyed this mini feast.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I met a lassie in Aberdeenshire,
She offered me a cuppa, & romance with tincture,
She was married but delightfully, an advoutrer,
We blended into one sort of amalgamator,
We mangled certain limbs in particular…
We ended up boozier and bouncier,
I hope to see her again later…
I found Aberdeenshire to be boshter! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yet another horrible night’s sleep. Forever waking up with jerk or jump, and this wrangled me last night. At 0440 hrs, I most unwillingly climbed onto the side of the hospital bed and removed the Nocturnal Night Pouch. I had given the urine a too-low rating, so I must change that on the NHS card later; Carer Chris said it was a six. I keep forgetting to change it.
I gathered the waste bin bags into one and left it near the door to take to the rubbish bin later.
Went to the kitchenette to check the tops, taps, stove, and doors.
On that short little hobble, Dizzy Dennis nearly caught me out; luckily, I’d got with me and avoided going over.
I arrived in the kitchen, I performed the safety checks. Nothing was out of place, left open, or running.
The fog outside still looked thick. But maybe a little less than yesterday’s did. I thought that his shot had an eerie aspect to it. I made a brew of 99 tea and got the computer booted up. I seemed to be doing well this morning. Only Dizzy Dennis, Cartilage Chloe, and Arthur Itis have been any bother up to now. Then, a summons ensued from my innards, warning me to urgently attend the Porcelain Throne.
A splurty, messy, smelly, and gooey dollop of excrement splodged into the ceramics. It took a while for me to get cleaned up. I mean for both the WC and me. Hehe!
I went to empty the urine from the day catheter pouch, and for the love of me, I could not get it to flow out. The thinnest, slowest, barely a trickle did flow. I tried to encourage things along. Jiggled and juggled the day bag, pulled it up, twisted it around the leg, and then lowered it… which brought on Dizzy Dennis again, and I had to give it a rest for a minute or so. I tried squeezing the transfer tube, twisting the plastic bag, and even praying, but to no avail.
I was on the computer. Something was playing up again with the text writing, and I was unsure what I’d done on Friday to prevent it from acting up again. After I pondered what I could do to correct the situation, Carer Maryham arrived.
I told her about the wee-wee being so reluctant. “Drink more water!” So I did. I also mentioned that I had only two nocturnal catheter pouches left. I didn’t think anyone would be working on a Saturday. Maryhan helped me find the telephone number for City Care on the computer, Bless Her! I was in a bit of a panic now, but I realised I’d got the days mixed up. IF… I can get through, and IF I can hear the voice on the other end on Monday, the situation may be saved… (or not); thanks, Maryham! ♥ She rushed off, taking the waste bags with her, so kind.
I kept on the computer and taking the water, but it was still a trickle at best. I went through the same procedures as before, and it didn’t get any slower, but the flow did not increase.
Drinking and blogging away, and a text message came on my super-modern mobile Nokia phone. A message told me my food order would arrive today within two hours. That will be the food order I’d just told Maryham was due next Tuesday… I assume. Erm?
CorelDraw was playing up now! About an hour later, during which I got nothing achieved on the blog, the intercom chimed in. I was the food order arriving. The driver placed them in the mini-hallway for me, I thanked him, and he asked if I was over 21. I said I’ve not ordered any alcohol, only soft drinks and water? We both laughed, which was nice! Four bags worth. I carried them one by one into the kitchenette. I seem to have treated myself to more fish balls, fishcakes and fish fingers, too! Oh, and a bag of potato croquettes. I got the frozen put away first. Once again, I had to take the fish balls out of both boxes and jiggle with the food in the freezer to get them in. It also took a bit of planning to get things in the fridge—not that I had a lot of stuff. I can’t recall ordering some of the items, but I did no fear dying from hunger.
That must be heartbreaking news for Pensioner killer Sir Keir Rodney Starmer. Rodney, as Del used to say… “You Plonker Rodney!” In the fictitious Trotter family. Har-har-har!
Afternoon Carer Joanne came, and she was very welcome. I showed her the photo of the last pouch emptying. Can you see the fluff-looking clump that came out after I rejiggled the bag and tube again? I expected the flow to be freer on the next emptying, but no! The flow is still about the width of the darning-needle-eye… at best! I have to bend to encourage it, which merely invites the attention of and has joined in the assault! Joanne is having trouble with her catheter, so we have that in common and things were not going right for either of us.
We shared a chunter. Hahaha!
I was not getting on well with the blog. After Joanne departed, I sulked a little and returned to the computer. I found some of the same types of
They were expensive but had no drainage pipe fitted and were half the price of the others. I ordered some, but they will not arrive before Tuesday, so I’ll not be able to wait until then. All the more important thing is to get in touch with City Care – Option Three on Monday. There may not be a blog on Monday cause I shall keep on trying to get through, and if they say you are the 19th customer in the queue, I’ll stay online and wait. Although knowing my luck, I’ll fall asleep or have a seizure and not recall what I was ringing for! I feel a depression coming on!
I had another go at the blogging. And the landline chirped! It was a lady from the Social Services. The line was terrible. This reminded me that the hearing aids still need sorting out, repaired, and mended. And how do I get a lift there and back? Anyway, she asked if I had time for a Q&A session. I hadn’t really got the time. But this rare, almost unheard-of opportunity to tell someone my problems could not be missed. It was hard work, and the lady shouted some questions after I’d asked her to repeat herself a few times. I mentioned the problems with the ablutions, the hearing aids getting repaired, shopping, the bank, etc. Of course, when she rang off, I thought of so many other things I struggle to get done, but it’s too late now.
She kindly said she would ring me back to update me on any plans made or altered. ♥
I got some potatoes in the slow cooker. Hopefully, I can have it later with cheese. But we’ll see, it’s getting late now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the crushed cream cakes delivered earlier. Most dissapointing. It looked like finger marks on the icing and cream. The cream had left the bread altogether. Maybe not so bad. I’m going to chew them up anyway. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel!
I went into the kitchen to see how the potatoes were coming along, and the fog was gone—there was just a light mist in the air! So, I took a left, centre and right shots of the view. The Carer may arrive soon. I’ll now go and get the oven warming up and try to get the cheese into the flesh of the potatoes. I’ve not had any of these for months now. Lack of injuries permitting, of course. Or seizures, tumbles, falls, walking into things… take your pick.
Chris made his last call around 0920hrs. The lad was rushing to go home, and he looked all in. However, he kept his chirpiness up and made sure Chris took the diabetic socks off, and he attached the next-to-last nocturnal catheter pouch we had. Gave the cream cake treats, and off he poddled. A nice lad.
Nosh started. Cheesy potatoes, fish balls, and garden peas.
Nothing else was needed!
This was the first proper cheesy potato dish I’ve made since the old oven conked out. I used the new mini-cooker, which was great because it was on top of the old cooker. I could check the crisping colouring at eye level as it cooked to ensure it was spot-on. I so enjoyed this one. It was worth all the time, bother and cleaning up afterwards! Great!
The cod balls I did in the air-fryer. I’ve not yet mastered this air fryer. But I’m slowly getting better.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – With intruders in my brain, eyedrops in my eyes… No hair needs to be permed, washed or blow-dried, Medications to take, ointments to apply, Catheter to change… pains that I can’t nullify, Toothache, Arthur Itis, I get by, by and by, It’s my brain I need to reclaim, defunkify…
Doreen Dementia, & Cognitive Impairment Iris, Of my ailments, they are the awesomest, Now, I don’t want to seem an alarmist… They rule the brain with brazen audaciousness, No help from my doctor or psychiatrist, Maybe I should try an acupuncturist?
I put up with them, I think, admirably? Despite their internal argie-bargie, They confuse me with anything arithmaticy, Twist matters logical and practical & my memory, It’s impossible to converse with them amiably, Mostly, they come over antagonistically!
They are in my brain, so no problems audiologically, They are dictators rather than supervisees, My reactions can be tenuously or timorously, My uncertainty, they always guarantee… Acting vexatiously, viciously, always victoriously, To a degree, I admire their wizardly!
My brain makes me a perfect accommodationist, I’m an easy target, being an anthropomorphist… Seizures installed by these anaesthesiologists? On the one hand, they are undoubtedly abstrucities, They’ve made my brain an acropolis… So, I struggle at times to gain access!
Their actions mostly, I fail to comprehend, Obviously, my IQ became overburdened… But my EQ has never wavered or stuttered, I don’t know which side my bread is buttered, So, common sense, I’ve had to suspend, I admit to feeling a smidge frightened!
Each of them is a cerebrum adulterator, Assured of brain-installing habromania, How to get help? An astrologer, an auger? Will I still them in Hell hereinafter? Is it possible at all to find an ameliorator? They’ve beaten the best, such as Maggie Thatcher! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A restless waking up far too often sleep. 0425hrs: Gave up and got up from 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. I didn’t make it to bed last night. I was trying to stay awake to watch the football. Then, naturally, as I started to watch the TV, I fell asleep, waking up with the jump and tweaking away. But could I get back to sleep? I only stayed that way for minutes, banging away again. Occasionally joined in. This repeated until I resigned myself to surrendering and getting up. Marvellous, one tries to stay awake so as not to miss the footy, but that comes on, and I fall asleep. I miss the football, and then I can’t get back to sleep! Humph!
I was pleased with the colour of the urine this morning. Carer Chris gave it a Five from the NHS colour chart. Best morning shade for weeks.
I went into the kitchen to check the taps and saw the fog again. It was even thicker than it was yesterday. I could barely discern the lights. I assume there were some out there? I took a second shot of the view in a different photo mode. This time, I could make out some vague bits of green that must be trees?
I did the Blood Pressure on the Sphygmomanometer. It came out just inside the ‘Hyper range’; it was not high enough to cause me any concern.
I sorted all four of the waste bin bags into one. And took them to the front door. I am hoping a Carer will take them to the chute for me. I would have taken it, but with the kitchen thermometer only reading 40°F, it was just a smidgeon too cold to risk going out there yet. Haha!
I refilled the Nurse’s & Carer’s nibble box on their table. Then, the need for the Porcelain Throne arose. Although not as big or painful as yesterday’s monster passing, it was still enough to bring water to my eyes. Hehehe! One good thing about Constipation Conrad’s evacuation is that it leads to fewer premature escapages than Trotsky Terence’s.
At long last. I made a brew of 99 tea, got on the computer and changed the date on my almost historical clock calendar. Then . The text writing on WordPress suddenly stopped me from moving about the mouse without outlining all the text. It was impossible to write anything. I tried doing text in CorelDraw, then MS Word, with the same results. I closed down WordPress and CorelDraw, and then a screen appeared with Prosessers in the use list, which had hundreds of items on the list. I had no idea what was causing or what this was all about.
Carer Christopher arrived as I tried to sort things out and what to try or do about it. He issued the medications. Then, he changed the Catheter Contraption for me; lastly, he got the diabetic socks onto my legs. (Lovely & warm, now!)
I tried to remember what had gone off with the computer.
The screen with the listing has a Stop Process button, which was no longer highlighted. So, I closed the window and tried writing again after reopening CorelDraw and WordPress, and it worked. I can’t cope with technology!Still, it allowed me to finish yesterday’s blog and post it.
I had started on the photographs for this blog. And a swarth of came over me for about an hour. Somehow, it seems that I kept on typing away through them all. When I partially regained my faculties, I found a mess grammatically and one paragraph that did not mean anything to me, all gobble-di-gook! Sorting them out took me more than another hour, and even then, I made and found more errors. I wanted to try to make time to read January’s templates. I hope I can get this done; having them ready to use on file does save time each day. Boy, the time is flying.
Carer Joanne arrived. We had a natter, and she related her holiday mishaps. Bless her 🧡. It sounded like I was listening to myself. Haha! I do like that gal.
After some more work on the blog after Joanne had gone, I decided to try to get the templates made up. With hope in my heart and crossed fingers. (I do not really cross my fingers; Arthur Itis no longer allows me to cross my fingers. Although Colin Cramps often bends and twists them when I don’t want them to be like that!) I’ve dropped many things over the years thanks to Colin & Arthur Itis.
Here goes: I’m continuing with the template work, which I expect to take 2½ hours, the same as last month. It is now 1230 hrs. See if I get them done, and remember to check how long it takes me this time. I hope the computer & CorelDraw do not play up again.
God Heavens: I’ve just finished, and it is 1630hrs! Took me a lot longer this time. I said I was struggling to get things done, but I didn’t think this would take me that long. Again, correcting mistakes, those that I noticed cost me a lot of time. Made a brew of Glengettie to celebrate.
Fish balls in batter, pickled beetroot, onions, green tomatoes, carrots & home-pickled water chestnuts.
Very nice!
The landline chimed. It was the Doctor’s receptionist. The DVT Warfarin blood test showed a low INR count, so she gave me a new dosage: 1½ Warfarin tablets each night. Even I should remember that.
Being unsure of myself, I rechecked the templates. I took this shot through the balcony door, and only the fog was seeable. It felt dreary and cold. I checked the kitchen thermometer, and it was showing only 35.6°F. Carer Chris just arrived after I’d written his name. Haha!
Meds were issued, and he told me that I’d not put any granules or wash-pods in the laundry he took this morning. Thankfully, I remembered to ask Christopher to put the socks on me. He took them with him as he left.
Going to go on WP Reader before I fall to sleep. Fall to sleep… me!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – To relax, I tried banzai. Or was that bonsai? I ended up in the hospital, nearly bled dry… Oh, with a cut lip, broken nose & a blackeye, I didn’t die, but I caught diplococci, Starmer, he does falsify and farcify… Pensioners, he hates, & will not fortify, He’s not been assassinated… I wonder why? I see food, fuel, etc. prices again rising high, Is he honest or a crook, you can’t identify,
Until they mug or kill you or poke you in the eye, Dictators, Oligarchs, Politicians crooked, why?
Warmongers, so many innocents die, Life is complicated; it needs formulae,
The violence is rife; it makes my brain lignify, MPs work creates mamihlapinatapai, If Starmer was a bird, he’d be a magpie! He lies, he’s greedy, creates profundify, He’ll eventually bleed the poor dry, To him, commoners are just succubi, Parliament needs to defunkify, Even if the end is nigh… This is all likely pie-in-the-sky? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I worked through the night, the bed untouched. Computing and Blog-Catch-Up.
At 05:30hrs, I emptied the urine pouch. While doing so, I decided to close the computer down and run a Ccleaner session. Then turn off the computer, and get the Ablutions & Medications sorted out. But first, I did a bit of flat-titivating. I sorted all the waste bins into two bags. I’d made a lot of rubbish while nearly falling asleep for so long. But despite this, Sweet Morpheus would not let me nod off. I checked on the pickling mushrooms by tasting one of them and a piece of water chestnut. They looked okay, but the flavour told me they may pickling for another day.
I hobbled into the wet room to make a start on the Ablutionisationing and Medicalisationing.
I thought the Renauds on my feet and toes looked much easier. But I still had my reading glasses on. This photo I took proved me wrong. Yes, I was tired, but I didn’t feel weary. Does that make sense? The feet washing in the bowl while I shaved and did the teggies went very well. And the shaving produced just 2 minuscule face nicks. I was doing well under the circumstances. The medicalisationing, apart from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, seemed to go great! Even getting the PP’s one was less bother than usual. SMUG-MODE ENGAGED! Dried and dressing gown on. My plan to get into the bed was interrupted. As I sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner, to watch another great 1950’s film in black & white. And drifter off into the bliss of sleep!
Carer Richard arrived. He was not in a gay mood, but I could tell he was upset about something. He didn’t laugh once during this visit. No, I told a lie! (I’m getting like Starmer!) My EQ told me he was not feeling well. I hope he feels better after he gets some kip and food inside him. Richard had the diabetic wadding on and supports on both legs again. After the lad had left, I soon drifted off into a much-needed but too short sleep.
Carer Chloe woke me up on her first call. I was deep in sleep. We chatted, but I’m not sure what it was about. I think it was Carer Chloe, my being rudely awakened. Hahaha!
I restarted watching the film. And fell off into bliss again, missing the end of the movie! Grumph! But I do need the sleep catching up on. I slept until an hour and a half later.
Carer Joanne woke me up. Bless her; she brought up my washing and kindly hung the laundered gowns for me in the hallway.
The sleep was a little longer this time, but I shot awake with Electric-Shocking-Sherida blasting away at me. She’s such a persistent ailment! I gave up on sleeping. Sherida had beaten me again! I took a photo of my beloved old-fashioned clock calendar. Nearing 15:00hrs. So I had to rise and get on the computer to start blog catching up all over again. Will it ever end?Hehe! I mustn’t moan; I think in between Carers calling. I got around five hours of sleep. But, I need more yet. On with the blog!
Two tasty-tasting cheesy-topped rolls slathered with mushroom pâté de campagne. Pickled shop-bought green-yellow tomatoes, red peppers and onions. Fish balls, cooked in the air-fryer, home-pickled water chestnuts & mushrooms. Followed by a pot of lemon fool dessert.
I found another 1950s black-and-white movie on the TV. I then settled in the c1966, £300 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.to watch it, accompanied by the five empty packets in the bin in the morning of Frazzles!
I stayed awake enough to watch half an hour of the film, and when the adverts came on, I drifted irresistibly into the land of Nod with Sweet Morpheus. I was still in the chair 6 hours later when I woke up.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration, His childhood stolen; his heart broken… Full of fear and apprehension, Daily failures, Mother in police detention… Very little learning or education, He grew up in debt and devil-ridden, He became an expert in deprivation, Coped with destruction, devastation… In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection, I got shot twice when working in protection, Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction, I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption, I retired, to constant hospitalisation, Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation, Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion, Struggling now on my meagre pension, Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation! Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation, Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption, Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion, Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion, Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression, Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation… My hopes & plans are mere theorisation, I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion, As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten, There’s always something I’ve forgotten… Unavoidable depths of depression… Self-vilification & condemnation, Self-criticism, and animadversion, Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation, Any length of time, sometimes in repetition, Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion, Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten, No shortages of ointments and medication, I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon! Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken, Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion, Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion… Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian, Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen, Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum, Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion! Every day is literally an ordalian, My flat is like a prison or garrison, Compared to my youth there is no comparison, Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian… They’ll tell you not to eat bacon, But you will, as a revengeful impulsion, For your mental & physical distortion, I think life is an intermission… Or maybe an incantation? I think the above lines were malapropian, Best just stick with eating smoked bacon? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still 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. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did. I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag. The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?
So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.
Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results. That, as you see, didn’t work!
Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved. Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub… Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!
Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. (I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I , then , where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to . Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang! . The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly! I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released! As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me! I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no! had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning.. As I was getting my dressing gown on… I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before. This also baffled me!
I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk! I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!
I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.
Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.
Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card? Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner. The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats. The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there. I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t! That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!
I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.
Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.
Carer Kimberley made the next call.
I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses.
When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!
I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures. Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased. About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!
Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack. I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.
Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!
Then, I made the second snack of the day. I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.
I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful. At 0025hrs, I got my head down.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – An ode to Keir, praise not being included…
In power because he’s been adfected,
He had earlier got himself benighted,
HMG he has soon affected, loyalty rejected…
He is a robot, not compassioned,
As Labour leader, then the PM, he was elected,
Beating the sad Tories and getting adulated,
As PM, his self-greed exploded,
But the electors were soon acerbated,
His speeches were bland, circumlocuted,
He lies by omission; his talks are bloviated…
Pensioners Fuel allowance he discarded,
Tax on farmers up, as Keir fanfaronaded,
Did anyone notice when he lied, he mussitated?
I thought Christmas might be cancelled!
I half-expected it would be nuncupated,
Blair’s fiddling used to get me irritated,
Brown’s clangers were unprecedented,
But Starmer, he gets me nauseated,
He also gets me over-wherrited,
His cruelty & lies will never be obtunded,
Guilty but got off scot-free, vindicated!
I’m sorry that I just pasquinaded…
But it’d be nice to see him assassinated!
Of to the Porcelain Throne, I just ventilated! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE THINGS I COME OUT WITH! Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another partly full-of-beans awakening this morning! And why not? I’d been blessed with 8hrs in bed and only waking up with a jump three times. Yes!
When I realised that the nocturnal catheter pouch valve had not been opened, I felt a little flow-back pain the moment from the bladder when I moved. But nae bother or frustration this time. I put the nocturnal pouch on and forgot to release the valve. I was remarkably calm over this cock-up. Despite the discomfort, I was singing to myself as I emptied the rather over-full day pouch, and even when I had to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, I accompanied myself with a few toneless Elvis songs. And the urine I’d just emptied from the jug was a 6 on the NHS scale. I wasn’t overly worried. Then I changed to an Acker Bilk Song, ‘Bona Sera, Seniorita’, following up with Adam Faith’s ‘My Last Wish’. Yes! I was aware of my upbeatness and enjoyed it! I was bounced back to reality when I went into the kitchen from the wet room.
I soon found myself in an instant depression . Self-hating, spitting, self-lambasting, and swearing began! Then , she kicked off yet again, but far worse than she was yesterday. Although I thought that was bad yesterday, now I know it wasn’t.
It was as if they had a compunction to join minutes later and played up.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I got the kettle on to brew a mug of Co-op 99 tea. Then I opened the window to take some snaps of the morning views on offer. A genuinely blue sky looked impressive from where I stood, holding my chest, trying to ignore Anne Gyna’s stabbing, moving around the torso’s chest pains.
I’ll try to see if it’s the same shade tonight. I’d also like to take some zoomed-in shots of the Christmas-decorated houses and trees tonight.
Anne Gyna is still having fun with me. I took an extra naughty Codeine 30g painkiller. A mug of tea and I planned to make a start on the blogging.
Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. Carer Joanne put the diabetic sock on for me late last night, I think. Medications were issued. And I inquired into his plans for Christmas. He said he had none. Is he working! The holiday foods arrived with a few more treats. I had a heck of a job getting the stuff into the freezer & fridge, more the freezer.
The fridge was stocked up enough. Compared to the freezer, which had to be emptied of some foods to make way for the new stuff. Tsk!
You can see when I showed Carer Carole later how full it was; I had to open the two fish boxes in batter and put them in loose. Otherwise, I’d never have got them in! Talk about cram-packed. Hehe! It lessened later when I took out some treats to hand out. I’ll not starve, despite SS Unterofficer Herr Starmer doing his level-crooked best to starve pensioners this year.
Then, things were taken over by it and persistent . I nearly took another extra Codeine, but I stopped myself.
I’d two deliveries coming today from Amazon. I hope they get it right this time. Do you remember a few weeks ago, the microwave wear was left outside on the flat’s porch? And the toothache painkiller was delivered to the wrong flat, and the gentleman who was expecting a delivery for himself thought it was his. Until he opened it and saw it was for number 72, not his flat, and he kindly brought it up for me. ARGH! AGAIN! .The site said it was delivered and handed to the customer. Well, it wasn’t! I had to get some clothes on. And to empty the catheter. Getting the trousers on with the catheter is time-consuming, risky, and painful! Then get down in the lift to see if they had left it in the foyer again. I couldn’t see it. So, I returned and got proper-flummoxed with Amazon’s deliberately awkward and hard-to-understand complaint system.
I somehow found a butt n that got me to a department that I could only input details from the list they supplied. I thought I was getting somewhere when, on the second try, I got through to a Q&A list, which offered a button to press for the Customer Service Department, and I pushed it – Nothing happened, but the screen disappeared. I tried it again. Whoever it was, AI, I think, said I needed to contact another department. But didn’t say how to do so. A third try got me as far as that again.
I was getting uptight with the frustration and pains from Anne Gyna to boot. Once more, I started from scratch but gave up. As I was sat here swearing out loud, the door chime chimed.
A resident was bringing me the disinfectant that had been left with him in error. He was not very happy. I thanked him and got back on the computer.
Lousy timing, kicked of again.
No idea what I was doing, but when things cleared, I’d closed the multitude of open Amazon windows. And started to worry about the disinfectant & cleaners being delivered
I opened Amazon’s page to track the parcel.
I gave in and took another Codeine 30m. Ann Gyna was getting worse, not any better or easier! Checked the tracker for the delivery.
I realised that walking down and back up had started the bleeding of the ankle ulcer. Boy, was I fed up! Well, Yes!
This driver was as good as gold. Brought up the freshener and Zoflora lemon Sherbert disinfectant to the door for me.
I’m going to get something to eat now.
I can finish this in the morning if I get up.
TTFN.
Goodeth Morning!
Woke up at 06:45hrs, Rather Later than planned
Update Battered fish balls, terrible potatoes, two none-butter-buttered cheesy cobs, pickled water chestnuts, pickled mushrooms, garden peas, and a Lemon Fool dessert.
Carer Chris made his last call at 0925hrs. Diabetic socks off & medications sorted.
