– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Have we oldies been accessorised? Is this something to do with Starmer’s lies? Should politicians be backhanders or exemplifiers? I ask these things cause I’m not very wise, Are Oligarchs crooked financiers? Ought our PM’s be gonfalonieres? I think they show their audacities, & artificialities, Their answers seem to decontextualise… Questions answered seem to extemporise… Explanations, hypothesise or theories, No guilt is shown; suspicion then intensifies, Reasons for the oldies mental malaise… Deafness, Dementia we can’t always ostracise, Maybe paralysis, prosthesis, or psychosis? Voting for who? The least bloodthirsty? Some seek self-profit, adversely… Some act cunningly, some with ambiguity, If I was PM, I’d lead anacreontically, Towards the aged, I’d act adminicularly… Starmer is more a dictator than an abecedary, So he can’t bring or supply equanimity. His nature & outlook are not very veritable, I think their future is looking terrible… Some looked to me like just fixed addicts, One appeared to be doing mind acrobatics, Many seemed to be on antibiotics… One was ever-scratching at her bedticks, The chancellor looked like a Wiccanist, The chap next to her, like a voodooist? Gurning Starmer looked the wealthiest, His cabinet lot looked the weirdest… Backbenchers suffered from wanderlust, Sturmer got a few scolding looks, They were from the wannabes, Rachel Reeves started to apothegmatise… Using axiomatics to hide her lies, It was matter-of-fact, nowt to energise… To give false hope would not be wise,
No hope giver Starmer, but an annihilationist,
A farmer-hating Starmer and gerontophilias,
Who leads his turncoat MPs, the nudnicks…
Policy changed from Socialist to psychosis,
The sceptics changed their semantics,
From romantics to political bandits,
From scholastics to schizophrenics,
Humane to back-hander-holics!
From honourable to Oligarchal!
Labour’s already as rusty as my belt buckle!
Their honour dies, leaving no sparkle…
I wouldn’t mind if Starmer gets suicidal! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This blog was not started until 14:00hrs on Saturday. Between Mini-Seizures, Dizzy Dennis, and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm—backed up with Glaucoma Gladys—and the computer failing to save again, it’s been a long, unsuccessful, lousy day for me. (18:10 hrs). I suppose I made a decent start, though. I did complete December’s templates. However, I even got the dates wrong on many of them, so I had to change each one to regain the required sequence of dates. Also, a few photos were saved, but not many were taken. If it was go-wrongable, it did! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Bleeding. Toothache Tiffany. Mini-Seizures. Dozzy Dennis. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were debilitating still now! I did manage to get some sleep in though. Up at 04:15hrs. Sleep was a little better, but nowt to shout about, I’ve still not caught up with all the days lost. Urine is a better colour!
Sorry, but it’s so late. I’ll just put the few photos I’ve got on… if the computer lets me. Morning views.
Ablutions, I couldn’t use the shower cause the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. Stand-up wash shave, teggies, medicationalisationed, scented things. Haha! It still took me two hours without showering.. Carer Chris Started the templates. Carer Joanne. Finished the templates. Seizures and Dizzies were bad. Made a food order for the following Monday.
Suddenly drained after a good start as well. Fell asleep in the computer chair… Woke up when I fell off of the computer chair. Slipped, hauling my massive body up from the floor. Hit head on 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. Nose & teeth bleeding. (They soon stopped; the headache lasted a little longer, though) Carer Chris came; he wanted a can of cider… well, he took the last two of them. He didn’t, but he put them in the fridge to cool them and will collect them on his next visit. Not a lot, but I wasn’t hungry.
Acne & Ezcema is back again!
Sorry, it’s so short. Time won today. I’m too tired to start today’s blog, and it’s too late anyway. So, I expect it will be another battle to get things done for tomorrow’s blog. I think!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A change in style for Ode of the day today, Sarcasm I tried to avoid, store away… Add intelligence, albeit adumbratively, I tried to create an eclectic array… Thoughts, & memories a personal breviary, Steer clear of any lachrymosity… Not to overdo my loquacity, Or even mention Starmer’s lubricity! Mix reality with dreams & veridicality, To blend farce with pretend-unctuosity, I was hoping for some theopneusty, I failed in all; I just created self-anxiety… My earlier ideas mentally acted evasively… Doreen Dementia with great audacity… Stopped me from accessing, acted evasively… Dealing with my thoughts circuitously, My grey cells, infested with a new proclivity, My intended hopes fell into jejunity! I’m sad now I’ve missed the opportunity… I’ve lost my thoughts, plans & fecundity, Fading intelligence & mental acuity, Next week, I’ll be back again in Ward 23, The nurse said for electroencephalography, It records brainwaves, electroencephalographically I wish I could have done this ode betterly… It started so well as well… Pity! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yet another sleepless night! I went through the same routine. Last night I watched the TV 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 an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, on the TV and eat the meal.
But Sweet Morpheus refused to arrive. Once more, I moved into the hospital bed. But the piles were so painful, I moved back to 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. I stayed there with the TV on and nothing to watch, but as a general rule, this often sends me into the bliss of sleep when the adverts come on. Not tonight, Oh, no such luck! I was still there at 06:00hrs and decided to rise from the depths of the uncomfortable recliner. The first job was to remove the , and then get a wash and medicate poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which were as bad as yesterday morning. It’s not anywhere near so bloodied this time, though.
I made a halfhearted attempt at straightening the hospital bed covers, giving myself a decent .
For the first hour or so, I had no s, and as far as I could tell, no seizures either. When the shocks came on, the seizures came on simultaneously. I managed a nifty bit of balance manoeuvring that prevented any tumbles. . I was taking a photo of the dark morning sky, with Venus as the only thing on view in the sky.
I considered adopting another Smug Mode when I saw how well it came out. And took a lower-down view of the hidden houses. As I closed the window, the Kodak dropped from my limp grip. ! I automatically grabbed the camera as I bent down and actually caught it! Unfortunately I had a and banged my against the floor radiator. It made such a mess that I got a new set-up from the main junk room and retired to the wet room to get the bag changed and things cleaned up, putting on some fresh PPs afterwards. At least I felt a little freshened up and cleaner. It took me ages to replace it, and the bending down so much bothered Dizzy Dennis, who told me about it. I sat down on the Porcelain Throne to let things calm down. Soon, however, I found myself in need of the Porcelain Throne mentioned above.
It was all over in about a minute. I passed so many soft chunky lumps, along with what looked like a good dose of gravy, that followed immediately after the approximately twenty cubes of poo had escaped! It’s a blessing in a way; the differences in colour, pong, and contents in my daily visits to the wet room’s Porcelain Throne.
Never ever the same twice on the trot!
As I belatedly got on the computer, Carer Alia arrived. Medications sorted and given.
I did well with the photo saving after using the cCleaner this morning. Only a couple were rejected. I pressed on and finished the Wednesday blog. It took me a while, as I had a prolonged Seizure when checking the blog for errors. I do recall starting the Grammarly check. Their new confusing side strip indicators (they’ve just come on again, and with my eyesight, they often confuse me) annoy me with all these unwanted changes, and that was my last memory for an hour or so. I very nearly just clicked the ‘Publish’ tag. But I managed to see what an absolute mess I’d made with so many errors and mistakes, and I had to spend another hour reviewing them and correcting them. Grumph!
EERIE PHOTO
I snapped a picture of the horizon. The mists in the background and the sun rising from the left behind the block of flats looked beautiful, almost surreal.
The cannabis-growing dwellings showed up, with the ground and roof frost melting more on the top of some houses than others. Yes, I was wearing my Sherlock Holmesian hat this morning. Hehehe!
Gave me a few tugs, but she soon settled down. He was enjoying himself for a few hours. He was on and off for most of Carer Sam’s midday visit. Not sure what she thought was going on. But was kind enough not to mention it. I explained to her that the nurse had ordered me some cream and lotions after she had checked my magnificent (Ahem!) bodily orifices. The acne and eczema, Little Inchies fungal lesion, the Catheter strap area, and piles will benefit from these. But, I’ve forgotten what she told me, that each one was for now. Tsk!
I made an Asda order for late next week. I shall make sure I get it right this time! No, I didn’t, after all. “Sorry, something went wrong. Please try again later” Well, I did several times. But no, go!
: I spotted on the web that the new Heron Food Store in Sherwood had opened. I decided to pay it a late visit. Which meant having to get washed, unclothed, and reclothed, as well as struggling to get the trousers on after rejigging the new catheter set up so it didn’t pull too much with the trews on. Then, I had a battle to get the shoes on. I set up the three-wheeled trolley and hoped I’d got the bus times right. I set out… I left the front door with the walker and turned to lock the door, but I didn’t have the keys! I was sure I had them in the coat pocket. Now I must find and collect them and get to the bus stop on time. A mini-panic overcame me. Back in the flat, it took me a few minutes to find the keys, then I checked that I’d got the bus pass on me. I departed again in something nearing a poor imitation of a rush.
I went to the lift, down in it, out of it, along the connecting corridor, through the main foyer, and out onto the street. I noticed no bus at the stop. Maybe I was early. I hobbled hastily to the bus stop. How terribly disappointing! The sign read something like, “This bus stop is closed due to road repair workings!” Shitski!
All that effort and pain to get ready as well! I walked back to Winwood Court foyer and let some nurses in as I entered the building. Along the dark, dank corridor, then through the connecting swipe door into Woodthorpe Court, limped to the lifts, up in the lift, out of the lift, into the flat’s foyer, and finally back home to the flat. I think I sulked a little! I got iI got inside, feeling that my decision to go shopping was not a good idea. It took me yonks to save the two photos on file for use. I had to use the cCleaner twice for some reason?
Better make my evening sarnies then.
The photographs on the left were taken by cheeky chappie Carer Christopher!
The little scallywag took them while I was eating my meal & watching something on YouTube.
I had no idea he’d done so until he handed me my camera. Hehehe! You can see how I was enjoying, despite the painful teggies, as the last few teeth battled to chew through the mini feast. And there’s no doubt about it, it was one of the most enjoyed ones I’d had in a long time. Good job that I’ve got the Tooth Pain Killer spray at hand! It was well used.
The Meal: It was nothing fancy. Two large defrosted cheesy topped rolls, none-butter-buttered, with a smidge of Marmite added. Chopped onions, a big dollop of pickled beetroots, sliced-up a sea-salted Dutch tomato, and a stick of Marmite-infused cheddar cheese! I made up four cobs, wrapped up two and put them in the fridge for the morning. (I’ve just taken them out of the refrigerator now, Thursday midday) I must have been concentrating on the programme on the computer or eating the meal (most likely).
Cause I don’t know how I didn’t realise that Chris was snapping away with the Kodak. Hehe!
SADLY… Sleep was resisting again! I didn’t even bother trying to get into the bed after last night’s ‘Oh, so painful’ effort at sleeping was, for poor old Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I returned to the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. Initially, I had some success and nodded off for around about an hour & a half. Then, the first visit for several days came from the nasty . That was the end of my night’s repast. I forced myself up at 06:30hrs… and commenced a battle with the to get it detached from the day bag.
From within the depths of a shallow hope,
Dreams may start to evoke…
Your old desires, you will possibly revoke,
Be you young, old, female or menfolk,
Chances are you’ll need a urineascope,
You can avoid them using the cystoscope,
Maybe a heart op, or colonoscope,
Or the uncomfortable gastroscope,
A bronchoscope that goes down your throat,
Perhaps (I’ve had lots of these) a cystoscope,
An oesophagoscope (I’ve only had one) no more, I hope,
Many surgical wotsits names end with scope…
Laparoscope, various forms of endoscope,
Urethroscope, proctoscope, that’s also a rectoscope,
The first cancer detector was a spinthariscope,
Which at the time helped me cope.
Labours Nye Bevan, my hero, had appeal & allure,
He saved many lives; he created the NHS for sure…
In 1948, began the NHS adventure,
Few medicals were then available for the poor,
Then, to the NHS, they did pour,
I became an ardent admirer,
Look at it now, and we’ve got Starmer…
Stealing from each pensioner and farmer,
He’s a bribes & backhanders palmer!
What made the liar want to join Labour?
Let alone become the opposition leader,
Did he come as a Labour saboteur? Now he’s P.M., the nasty, cruel bleeder!
The politician I most hate and abhor,
Labour’s Red Rose may be due to alter…
Keir may replace it with a bloodied sabre,
He’s not going to be the UK’s saviour, It’s personal wealth that he does savour, I don’t mean him harm, but I’m not a well-wisher, I’ll wish him Godspeed to his undertaker!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Photo filing problems again.
Mini-seizures were rife throughout the day.
Dark Dank Depressions.
Immediate Dizzy Dennis Spells.
Concentration collapsed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Whoops! Wee-wee a bit red again.
I’m not sure what I did wrong taking this Kodak 2 photograph of the Renaurd-ridden toes and feet. They didn’t look anything like the hue the picture came out as. The bruising was where the cans of veg I dropped landed.
Made a mug of strong Glengettie tea. Slurp!
They were with me for about three hours on the trot.
I couldn’t find any work I had done while they were on, which is unusual. Usually, I’d find work done on the computer or in the kitchen that I could not remember doing. With the blog, this means I have to spend ages correcting things, but not today, as I have not done anything.
I soon found out I was wrong again! It cost me time and money and embarrassment, which I didn’t realise until near teatime. When the front porch intercom sounded. I went to see who it was, expecting someone had rung the wrong flat number… or a resident had forgotten to take the key to get back in with them. But no, nothing so simple.
At the door on the screen, was a gentleman delivering me a Morrison’s food order?
So, I had been doing something while in the seizures. And what a mess I made of that, too!
I checked later on and sent the order off during the 3 hours of Sandra’s attendance.
The chap arrived, and I put the food away, but why I’d ordered some things and not others will remain a muddled mystery.
Why the hell I ordered roasting potatoes and frozen red onions, I do not know. I have nothing to cook potatoes on or in. I can now recall buying a bag of these months ago, and they were tasteless and had to be thrown away. Three bags of cheesy bread rolls were ordered, but no sliced Milk Roll bread was ordered. Oh, dearie me!
I ordered canned coffee, which was for the nurses and carers. I also ordered some more soft drinks, but no spring water, which I take to fill the bladder. Cream cakes? Why? Who for on a Sunday? Also, some fresh chopped white onions had been ordered? More tomatoes, two packs of different ones!
Not the faintest memory of making the order in the first place, when I made it, or why I made it!
I soon decided to see if any Caregivers wanted the cream cakes in the morning. I dropped one box of the cakes, and they squashed and sprayed cream through the breath holes in the carton!
It took me ages to clean up the mess.
Now, depression and frustration have begun.
I’m glad I ordered these cheeses, though. Mature Blue Stilton cheese and extreme vintage cheese spread. Not knowing this order was coming, I’d defrosted some ready-sliced brown bread rolls for today’s meal.
,
I used the last of the extra-strong cheddar slices on these rolls. Had I been in the habit of eating newspapers, this is just how I expected them to taste – tasteless!
After eating or nibbling a few bits of the horrendous-tasting rolls and weak cheese with some tomatoes, I put the just-delivered cheesy-topped rolls in the freezer for later.
Then I discovered they were not cheesy-topped at all, just plain wholemeal. Presumably, they had been substituted for the cheesy rolls that I wanted. Spit!
More of the day lost than recalled. Sorry. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WHAT A START! MIND YOU THE MIDDLE & END WERE NOWT TO SHOUT ABOUT I stirred around 05:30hrs, after another disturbing jumping and shooting awake imitation night’s sleep in bed. The nocturnal catheter pouch was the brownest it’s been for a while. Carer Richard confirmed it as seven on the NHS colour-rating scale card. I was not in good nick this morning, but nothing seemed worse than any other ailment.
I started updating Sunday’s post. As I was about to post it, I got emails and messages from the bank about the payment for my new Tesco account order not being paid. I thought I’d coped well with setting up an account with them. Over the next few hours, I received more emails and messages from Tesco and the bank. Obviously, I had done something wrong somewhere. I struggled to get the bank to pay for my Tesco order. A carer tried, the first nurse tried, and then I rang Deana for help. I had eight different passwords come in, and none worked. Five emails from Tesco and three more from the bank. But I could not work out what I’d done wrong, although it was apparent that I’d done something wrong. Another nurse worked it out for me – I’d put the wrong telephone number as I registered with Tesco. I’d put the landline instead of mobile – what a clot and farce that was. Then, I rang Deana to say it was sorted; I’m so glad the nurses came today.
However, I still did not grasp what I had done wrong in the process for a while.
THE NURSE’S VISITS: A nurse called on me (Thank heavens) this morning to replace my Catheter. But she could not get it to go back in. After a phone call for assistance, another nurse arrived to help. An hour later, it was still not back in. They called for an ambulance but were told no non-emergency ambulances were available. So they departed, saying, just like Arnie said in the film, did, “I’ll be back!”
Three nurses arrived later! They got the Catheter painfully for me and sorted it around 20 minutes later. They were in a rush; they had a lot more Catheter-ridden old farts to visit. I said I was sorry to bother them, gave them some nibbles and drinkies of their choice, and was told to ring if there were any problems later. (None yet) I think this is why I did not post the blog properly. Jenny sent me an email as I checked those from Tesco and the bank and posted off Saturday’s blog. Then sent a message to Jenny; “I hope it’s gone through now, Jenny. ♥” Explaining the day I’d had as an excuse for the cock-ups that I’d made already. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
First photographs.
Second photographs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE BEDThe torture bed, where things got badder… Four tries to get the tube back into the bladder, It felt like I was being mauled by a barracuda, Blood came from the fungal lesion’s ulcer, I sang to make the pain easier… Gene Pitney’s 24-hours from Tulsa, I thought one nurse was the Grim Reaper, undercover, My howling was like a documentary voiceover, My voice recording could be used in Dracula! Each nurse got annoyed at each failure… One suggested taking my temperature, Their kind efforts did not waiver, In the NHS, I became a believer,
Each nurse was a wallflower with power,
As they worked out how to grab my waggler,
Which was getting smaller and wrinklier,
On the 6th attempt, I sensed they were getting tireder,
My bladder was getting fuller & fuller,
On the 7th, they epitomised womanpower,
Their attitude to me was pure exemplar,
These Angels were so patient and avuncular,
As soon as they’d won, I had gastrectasia…
Telling me to stay in bed for a while, to recover,
The tube reconnected in my tallywhacker…
I was already feeling so much better,
I told each one I loved her!
Nibbles & a drinkies of their choice, I did offer,
I thanked them all for being so spectacular! ♥ – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All in, up and running again! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tonight’s ready-made meal. I plan to have some tomatoes and beef sarnies with it.
Back in the morning… I hope! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Good Morning! Carer Promise arrived on his last call and took photos of the snow falling from the balcony. Then the lad attached the night pouch to the Catheter, which leaked all over the floor! So I was freezing from him letting the cold into the room, wet, and I had the job of cleaning up the leaked urine, wee’d on legs and slipper! And all I wanted to do was to get some sleep!
Still, it gave him a laugh. Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN each, Joy & Happiness to you All!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer, For stealing fuel help from every pensioner, But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later… Although it made OAPs £500 poorer… It got the Unions complaining angrier, It was businesses that gave him his backhanders! An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard, Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted? Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted… Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector! Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember, They’ll be in a home or alone, suffering from Dementia, Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia, Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia, Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia, Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia… Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,
I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater, A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler, I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore! A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came, I wanted to blame whatsitsname… Or maybe even whatsaname, I considered blaming whatshername… But for each one, I was the one to blame. First one, I was cleaning the windowpane… Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain, Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame, Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane! Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Then, I dropped my written username… I tried bending down again… Landed on my knees, agony more than pain! The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, But doing so was such a strain, Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train, The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things. A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.
This morning’s efforts.
Is my urine going darker again?
Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.
Morning all.
Afternoon-teatime views.
It looked like some clouds were going to land.
Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box. Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!
I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score! I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a visit from Grim Reaper 8,2,449,26 Vizi, He was not soul-collecting, he called socially, I like this Reaper Vizi, who last visited me in 2023, He said he was depressed but very busy, North Korean troops join in war against Ukraine, Available Souls to collect rises again… Gaza, so many humans getting slain, Children starving, dying in pain, There is no world affability or affinity, Words spoken artificiality, many an atrocity, Politicians without any accountability, No shortage of greed or ambivalency, Hostility, or apathy, sinful Oligarchy… Seek profit, power, a mega bankroll, War children build themselves a bolthole, Politicians lie, cheat, use hyperbole, Free murderers, with a legal loophole, Killers, murderers given parole, We don’t need wars to kill, as with Chernobyl, Plane, ship disasters, or a sinkhole, Fewer miners die, now you don’t use coal, Earth is doomed; well, it is a hellhole! I interrupted him, “You can take my soul…” Dying must surely be more peaceful? Is heaven extraterrestrial? Was humankind meant to be experimental, I sense that we are all fossiliseable, Well, of course, anything is possible… Vizi said that trusting humankind is fatal, This starts when they are foetal, Anklesnappers turn into people, They turn finical, criminal & some fatidical, Like you, cause you’ve a low IQ but high EQ, You see, but you don’t know what to do… Your hopes for happiness are exhausted, Your faith in humankind has vegetated… Your lust for life has withered… The Lord’s return remains uncorroborated, Your caring nature has been exploited, Life itself, you’ve never bested, Truth is, you are no longer interested… You’ve grumbled, moaned and protested, You’ve not changed, but the world has altered, You’ve failed, lost, deflated and faulted… This earth has been maladministered, Now an idiot has been Prime Ministered! And pensioners he has murdered… Yet Starmer remains undeterred, Wait for him in hell to see him burn! Then your sense of humour can return! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another miserable night’s sleep was endured. I felt so weary when it came time to get up and prepare for the food delivery I nodded off again. What I thought was five minutes later, I shot awake for the umpteenth time and I began to haul my abdominous-bellied body from the grasp of the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, tatty Haemorrhoid Harold testing recliner. I did the 40-second balance exercises and dragged myself carefully upright onto my legs to get to my .
The intercom rang out! Gotten Himmel! I thought it was about 05:00hrs, but it was 07:00hrs! So much for me nodding off for five minutes; it must have been two hours. If Electric-Shocking-Sandra and Thought Storming Steven had let me sleep earlier, it wouldn’t have been a problem. I was still not entirely out of the earlier seizure, but a bit of good luck… Yes!
Carer Promise arrived as the delivery chap was opening the door. Promise took the bags into the kitchen for me. Then he fitted the diabetic socks and sorted the medications out for me, remembering the Vitamins. Thank you. He assessed the colour of the urine in the nocturnal pouch for me. Then, I emptied the pouch and got on with sorting the delivery from J Sainsbury’s.
I’d forgotten to order some fresh tomatoes. Humph! Still, I’ve a few left to be used, but they are a few days old.
I had to throw it away. The fish sticks and the meat were in the refrigerator; I forgot to check the dates, so I delved into the fridge again but could only read two. Cheesy cobs and the Milk Roll sliced loaves of bread were put in the freezer, ready for use later. I kept out one pack of cobs to use today and put the butter in the fridge. Two ready-made meals went in with the butter. One potato cheese, onion, and a sweet & sour one with rice joined the butter and lemon yoghourts & desserts. The rest went into a cupboard: tea bags, cider, pork knuckle, bicarbonate of soda, and the Veggie cookies.
Then it was off to the wet room for a wash and Porcelain Throne session. Another torpedo, and again followed by some sticky wet waste product. That bit was messy.
I took a photo of my Renaulds feet and toes. But the computer would not let me save this one. It’s most annoying, well, damned annoying, I can tell you.
When I shut down the computer yesterday, I did a Ccleaner routine, and I thought this should help me this morning. It did, to start with, but it soon started refusing to save. I must try to get help fitting the stand-alone hard drive for me.
My Mini-Seizures were rampant today. I lost count of how many times I forgot what I was doing mid-stream of any actioning previously. I recall talking to someone about the Ice-Cold sensations, to find they suffered the same thing. We both agreed it was frustrating, as people who don’t have the problem cannot understand it or how bad it is. Also, what effect can it have on someone? Dropping things, failing to grab a hold or grip, etc. Losing balance, we share as well. It was nice to chat with someone who knows. Convincing the medical world of the seriousness is even more difficult!
I took this snap from the kitchenette window sometime in the afternoon. While checking if it had gone on the SD card, I saw a fantastic flowering bush in part of the garden in front of the two houses. I took a close-up photo of it. I wondered if anyone in the blogosphere knows its name?
The photos were not saved again, so I gave up. In the morning, many of them went on, which baffled me.
I sat down and blissfully fell asleep, but the Carer arrived to wake me up. Hehe!
It was all sorted, and I went into the kitchen to prepare the planned beef sarnies with beetroot, red onion and tomato-buttered cobs. I took these three shots as darkness began to fall.
Mind you, I’m enjoying them.
It’s just that I’ve cut my fingers a few times when slicing tomatoes, onions, beetroot, bread, etc. Losing the use of the cuts down on chips!
– – LABOUR ROBDOGS PARTYTIME! – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately, He steals from pensioners; he’s a gerontophobee! He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously, Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously, Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free, He comes across as being rather sleazy… Lies by omission, with great nugacity, He looks like a land-based manatee, Lacking in sympathy and humanity, He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity, He brings out my hatred and lubricity! With his fibs by omission and duplicity… He forecasts that things will go bleakly, He gives an aura of him being peccantly… He answers questions in a roundabout way, evasively, Subject changing, circuitously, obliquely, evasively! His cabinet pep talks are more like an obsequy! His compassion is woeful; he hates commonimity, He can’t hide his conceitedness, ego or vainglory, He failed to declare £16,200 in gifts from Lord Alli, Accepted gifts worth £100,000! Verily! At worst? He stole Winter Fuel cash from Inchie! Who may not need to go on a diet of xerophagy, Heat or eat… is a possibility!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What graphics and photos did the computer, CorelDraw, MS Excel, MS Word, Norton, Ccleaner, Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and Mini-Seizure-Sandra allowed me to save for use on this blog?
In a sort of chronological order. Close up from the kitchen window, trying to get the trees and bushes to see the changing colours.
The Grim Reaper paid another call; he’s named Zit, This is the second time this month he’s paid a visit, He smelt of death and vinaigrette… He went on about heaven & hell both being illicit, Hell? he thought I’d cope better with it, Heaven: I wouldn’t last for a minute … Hell holds politicians and people who are Oligarchic, He offered me a different course of action, He can arrange the Time Lord option, He’s willing to assist me get a Grim Reaper adoption, But to qualify, I must commit an abomination! “Must I rob a bank or do an abduction?” You must kill; your best bet is an assassination… “That’s no problem if it’s a politician”, “Knocking off our PM would be a pleasure, Do you mean Keir Starmer? “He’s a pensioner plunderer!” “A liar by omission & deceiver!” “He’s more of a hoodwinker than a wisecracker!” Great, get it done sooner, not later… You’re due to snuff it this December! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ON THE MEND NOW! Despite my inability to stay asleep for more than ten minutes, I’d been engulfed in the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy & dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping, recliner for hours & hours. Slowly, the pains from my left arm had dwindled, and my right arm was hardly noticeable. The dizziness was less frequent, and I was feeling much better now. Shivering was the only ailment, any bother. Naturally, Cartilage Carol and Chloe still gave the impression that they would give way, but they’ve been doing that for months. It’s been a while since my last visit to the , at least I think it has. I felt a lot more savvy with it this morning.
The night pouch seemed to be fuller than usual. If I recall correctly, I asked the Carer to put it on earlier than normal. I can’t remember why. I wobble into the kitchen, planning to check things and get the ablutions sorted. But No! The hot water tap had been left running for 6 hours. It was only dribbling, but enough for the water to be stone cold! For once, I don’t think I can be blamed. I did not go in the kitchen at all yesterday afternoon or night.
So, no ablutioning could be done. I did try using the Porcelain Throne NO MOVEMENT! Then I went back to the kitchenette. And I took these snaps of the morning view on offer.
Carer Richard arrived as I was doing the pictureless Wednesday blog. I remembered telling him that the prescriptions had been picked up and telling him a short tale of the events on Tuesday. I asked each carer to please let him know that I’d got the medicines to save him from going to collect them. But he said no one told him. I’m glad but surprised that I remembered it now.
The J. Sainsbury order arrived while Richard was here. I got it put away before I thought about photographing anything. Richard helped me carry the bags to the kitchen.
So I nipped around, taking these shots on the left.
Top one Frikadellens in the fridge. Next, Golonkowa and sausages are in the fridge. Then, some cut-price burgers and beef in gravy were also in the fridge. Drinks, ready-made meals, cream cakes for the warden’s treat, and a jar of black bean sauce were also included. Then, there are yoghourts, lemon curd, and lemon & lime flavours. And the Vegemite. I topped up the nurse’s drinkie shelf. Not, I’d got myself some cans of shandy.
Imitation gurgling sounds came from the innards; I shot back to the wet room. Well, that was a pointless effort. Not a sausage! Pain & blood, Yes! Hehehe!
When Carer Sham left in the afternoon, I realised that had been so kind to me over the last day and a half while I was out of it and feeling rough. It was her returning with a vengeance that made me realise. Suddenly, I was struggling to concentrate again. I also realised how well I had done with the blog. It all changed! At least was being kind to me. I may regret saying that later!
Would any of my hundreds of fans, either of you, like to guess what this photo is of? I ask cause I can’t remember taking it or where or why?
It’s getting hard work now with the mind-blanks.
Warders Julie & Deans popped in to see me. Then I received a call from someone convinced I was someone called Trevor. I tried to keep calm about his insistence on swearing and telling me not to be such a wanker. He may well have been intoxicated or on drugs, and maybe he’s rang the wrong number. I hope.
I ordered some microwave heat and eat plates. I don’t think I’ll be able to get the cooker removed and replaced anytime soon, so I don’t want to spend any money on it. Getting the computer sorted out is my priority. Hopefully, I can manage these pots with the microwave and air-cooker.
I took these snaps of the kitchen view. It was getting dark and a smidge misty, but I tried to capture the changing colours of the trees and bushes.
Hello, I’m off to the often-visited WC in the wet room yet again!
Same result, NOW OUT!
Carer Chris did the tea-time call. He was in a rush, he’ll be doing the late call too.
Ging to sign off now and get something to eat.A can of tomatoes, bacon and bread, methinks. Back in the morning. I took these shots while I was cooking. I like it when the photographs depict the sky as having a brown hue. It does it sometimes in the morning as well. Of course, it’s most likely due to something I keep doing repeatedly wrong photographically.
The meal: Tomatoes, black bean sauce, red onions sliced in, and some smoked streaky bacon. Brown & wholemeal cobs, and after digesting the feast, Carer Christopher arrived. The little monkey ran his fingernails along the soles of my feet again when he took of my diabetic socks. I’ve asked him not to. Hehe! But he seems to enjoy doing it. (Joking, I don’t want anyone to read this and think otherwise)
Lance Francis, 25, received the longest sentence of 14 years after being convicted of riot and arson with intent to endanger life. Reiss Wilson, 21, was jailed for 12 years. Wilson admitted riot, perverting the course of justice and arson being reckless as to whether life is endangered. Curtis Dejean, 19, was detained for 10 years. Callum Powell, 20, of Jarrow Gardens, Top Valley, was found guilty of rioting and sentenced to five-and-a-half years in a young offenders’ institute. Shaundrie Robinson, 22, of Scotholme Avenue, Hyson Green, was also found guilty of rioting and jailed for five years. Gregory Coleman, 20, of Broxtowe, was found guilty of rioting and sentenced to five years in a young offenders’ institute. Anthony Edwards, 24, of Noel Street, Hyson Green, admitted to riot and was jailed for three years and nine months. Ashton Alexander, 19, of Radford Road, New Basford, admitted rioting and was sentenced to four years in a young offenders’ institute. Harrison McCalla, 21, of Carlswark Gardens, Top Valley, admitted to riot, jailed for four-and-a-half years. Lucas Stapleton, 18, of Dulwich Road, Radford, admitted rioting and was sentenced to two years and nine months in a young offenders’ institute. Ricardo Cotteral, 23, of Basford Road, Basford, admitted to violent disorder and was jailed for three years. Bobby Muers, 18, of Caunton Avenue, St Ann’s, admitted violent disorder, sentenced to 15 months in youth custody. Kaiden Howell, 16, of St Ann’s, admitted violent disorder and was sentenced to six months’ detention and training. Marcus Wynter, 16, of St Ann’s, admitted violent disorder, sentenced to four month’s detention and training. Shaundre Robinson, 22, of Scotholme Avenue, Hyson Green, received five years in prison. Kaiden Howell, 16, of Eccles Way, St Ann’s, pleaded guilty to violent disorder and was jailed for six months. These young lads sent down are all out now, free once again to commit more crimes. Of these eight, they tell me that six are back in the lock-up. And all eight have offended again. They seem to be just as violent as before. Attempted murder, arson, murder, stabbing, rape, drug offences, and having offensive weapons in public.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Clue: It looks more like a worm to me!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Although the computer let me belatedly save this, it took a long time, it didn’t save all of it. I was fed up!
.- – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What an odd night’s sleep last night.
I’m sure that the moments between waking up with a jump were followed by a dream. I felt so unsettled each time, but I cannot now recall anything about their disturbing contents.
I soon remembered that DVT Warfarin Nurse Hristina was coming this morning to take some blood for testing.
About 06:15hrs, I rose slowly from the slumber and limped off to the wet room to get a wash & shave.
Constipation Conrad was back in full charge of the action again. One gigantic torpedo, followed immediately by golf ball-sized, sea-mine-shaped lump. The contents had three distinctly different colours. Mostly Kharki, with bits of black and red from the blood that trickled out. Damned painful!
It was too early to use the noisy shower, so I had a good stand-up wash and shave. The Razors scored a few nicks and cuts, but the Brut stopped the blood flow.
I went to get the kettle on and took this poor shot of the view from the kitchenette window.
Shaking Shaun visited me at the wrong time. Tsk!
Kicked-off, nice and steady at first.
But she soon got into one of the persistent rhythms, and I was all over the place mentally. I don’t know how I managed to get things done, albeit mostly wrongly, and I need corrections.
I’m sure things were not helped by the pain from causing a lot of bleeding this afternoon. I gave out the odd, Argh! Ooh & naughty words.
Carer Richard did the first call. Carer Chloe the second. And Carer Joanne popped in with the washing she does for me, bless her, the thin, long nightshirts that cannot go in a washer. She even hung them up for me (she has a catheter, so she knows the pain that a catheter can inflict ♥) and said she would try to contact Easy Link to sort out a lift for next Monday for me to go to and back from the DVT test to see if I need an operation… not that I’d live long enough with the length of the waiting list. Haha!
I may not have time to write a blog tomorrow, so I will see if I can start on it tonight. A cartoon and an Ode would be better than nothing. I can always post it if the medications don’t do what they did to me last time. (I’m having the flu jab as well.) I think I slept for 22 hours after the jab the previous time.
Earlier End Views are allowed to save! YeeHaa!. The end car park. The Tree Copse.
Can’t remember, but this may have been from yesterday.
I’m getting hungry now. I’ll get a meal, and if anything happens and it lets me put photos on, I’ll catch up in the morning. Oh, no, I’ll not have time. Well, if I get up early enough, I’ll have time. I’m struggling here. What I’ll be like after the jab, I don’t know. I hope they do the procedure if needed, that is, first, and then after the jab, I can rush back here to fall asleep for a day, just like last year.
TTFN – Back in the morning.
Good Morning! Tuesday A.M.
04:10hrs: Lousy sleep. I got up and struggled with getting the night pouch off. I sorted the waste bags; I must remember to ask the Carer to take the laundry bag; it’s full already.
I got on the computer to try to finish this blog. I hope there is time for me to start on Tuesdays. I have to sort the medication, bus pass, ablutions, and get dressed. I haven’t been out for that long; I’ve forgotten the bus times. I hope the catheter bag does not fill up while I’m out and about. Also, Arthur Itsis, Anne Gyns, Cartilages Cathy, and Chloe don’t play up with this sudden-to-them exercise. Hehe!
I’m praying that Sandra’s Seizures don’t kick off when I’m getting on or off the bus or in traffic.
