– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I found a page on the floor underneath the Hopewells 1964 E-Plan cabinet. The location of the other eight will have to remain a mystery.
Saturday evening: (All content lost? No idea what I did wrong, but after doing loads of work on this blog, I saved it and went on to make a Cartoon if sorts for Monday. Lost the cartoon, cursed, and called me names. No power of concentration left then. The constant pain, whatever position or what I did, is such a drain. Sunday: I was woke woken up by . The lad gave me the medications, and I think we had a little natter; I did not move from the second-hand, £300, charity shop-bought, , crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. i knew that if I did, it would be agony, followed by ever great discomfort trying to take a pea that wasn’t there. Well, the urine infection was winning hands-down here. I decided to stay in the mock bed. I thanked Jozeph for his understanding of my situation and condition. Asked him to pick a cold drink of this choice from the fridge in thanks.
I was off asleep again in no time; the body and mind needed it, I think. It was 14:50hrs when I woke again!
I was still not fully aware of things and pottered about doing nothing; each time I moved, I needed a wee-wee. By the time I’d got the trousers drooped, painfully sprinkled a few drops in the bucket – then got the picker-upperer to raise the trousers again, fought with the belt to secure the trews, I’d forgotten what I was going to do anyway.
I’ve never suffered as much with put pain getting the daily ablutions done before. The ankle ulcer was stinging away. The tight leg had rebloated, and I had a total of eight mini . A few shaving cuts, all minor. Despite my trying hard to be careful throughout, I sadly caught my precious but, Oh, too swollen and tender , on the metal support bar edge – TWICE! After the second event, I sat down on the Porcelain Throne for at least an hour and simply felt sorry for myself.Pathetic!. When I did a slow-motion walk into the door frame. Well, I’m sure any lads reading this will feel a twinge and winch of pain through the ether as was shaken, making contact with the door edge! .
I’m not sure of events for a while. Maybe I fell asleep? Found these two pictures of the front car park on Chestnut Way in front of the blocks of flats. I might have t taken them on Saturday? Or Saturday, maybe Friday. Almost certain it was this week.
Didn’t feel like eating a meal or even less like making one. So out came the biscuits, and dunked them in some Glengettie tea. Nice!Thought it best not to have any more. I don’t think the urine-infections think it a good idea. I fell asleep in the computer chair. Waking up confused, but realised I had not got the done yet. So, I did them.
But what a shock the figures were!.
Back into the Hypertension – 3 Red Zone. If I’m dead, it would have been nice for someone to have just mentioned the fact to me? Hehehe . Evening Carer Riahana, (I think).
Just as painful. The exploding right testicle had either gotten a quarter bigger, or the left one had reduced by the same amount. Still ultra-tender, delicate manipulation is needed in the event of the one every few-minutes wee-weeings! A work of art to get rid of a few fluid ounces of deep orangey-red coloured urine. Still unable to bend without severe pain resulting. But, I developed some new cries of pain. It had to be done. I was getting pissed–off (Wrong choice of wording there, methinks?) with the none-stop pain over the last six days. I’ve never had to suffer this agony it for this long and can sympathise with others in the same condition much better now. It really does grind you down.
Getting in as comfortable position as possible when you sit down, and if you find one – I readjust the ring cushion, with trial and error manipulation of edges of the chair cover, to try and get the raised areas around SOSTH. Of course, there is always something to make the bleated testicle or aching bladder innards worse.
Some things will need avoiding, like coughing! Sneezing, and I have no control over, or the, when the every part of the body is liable to a shaking. But the worst part of getting settled as peaceably as you can is something is always going to force you to get up again. A caller at the door? The need for a wee-=wee, or the ?
Another annoying one is ! No matter that it is most agony, as my previously miniature man’s bits part as you stand, especially with bloated ball bag, I just have to get up and go and check on whatever the commands me to. Tea mashed and left on the kitchen table, Taps running in the bathroom, forget about cooking in and on the stove? Is the fridge or freezer door left open? The kitchen sink taps are left on… they have to be checked.
Without failing today… every time I’ve stood up after sitting, it’s far worse the longer I sit (imaging getting up from sleeping!) Within a minute of getting up, I always need a wee-wee! No question about that, you have to go. Sometimes you may pass a trickle, on the odd occasion, it might be almost (But never is) an actual flow, which gets me excited thinking at last… But no. The pain deletes your concentration and makes you so irritable!
Today the stomach and midriff have gotten much larger and harder?.
The evening meal. Well, the only meal, of course.
Ater struggling to get the Health Checks…
Gave up on the computer. Nowt else to report, can’t remember anyway. Just want the pain to go away!
Best as I could recall, it would have been about five o’clock when I went to put the kettle on to make a Welsh brew of Glenghetti tea.
This Ode writ to show yer the wee-wee rate today!
While doing the brewing, A mug of tea ensuing, The bladder continued bubbling… Took one photo. and off for a peeing, Washed, back to photographing, Tea had done brewing… Got out the milk & off for a wee-weeing! Out of the wet room singing…
Forgot the tea, did the binning,.
Ah, the tea, which was now freezing,
Still, it didn’t matter to me.
Weeing, It was not free-flowing…
I could be in the shit; you see! Hehe
Ouzzat!Back-Down to High-Normal!
And, I not long since when taking the shower shaving routine, that my right hanging-sack is swollen and so tender. Humph! I presume from the effects of the urine infection or whatever it is. As the wee-wee rate was dropping. The swelling and pain started coming and still getting worse. Typical, I get an appointment, then find that I can’t get an Easy-Link bus; the poor devils are out of volunteers. It’ll be dodgy on the buses, but I’ve no choice. Finding it a lot harder to see things now, like traffic, walls, kerb, and bus stops, and have to manoeuvre around the 3-wheeler walker trolley. Do you know, I’m genuinely nervous about going out, not being able to see or hear.
About 45 wee-wees later, I’d stopped drinking before going to the doctor and got things ready to go. But if the Carer is any later I may miss the bus… “I may miss the bus!”! You may not believe the farce that took place… However, by way of a cheer, the had developed what a work of an art form is. I felt like it must be a label or something that could be pulled off? Off course, in my condition, there was no way I could reach it anyway – and should I have tried, my right onion bag would have likely burst as I swashed it, getting down to it. Not to mention the agony it would have given me. Hehehe! Believe me, it gave me plenty of chance for the odd Argh! Winching & cursing throughout the day and night! Arrived, and I asked him if he could help me with getting the does on, Or to be more precise, fasten the velcro on them. TY was happy enough to do that for me. I waffled too much, and the lad forgot to give me the second Omeprazole table, my fault. Treats selected in, on my insistence, thanks. Took the waste bag with him as he left. I wandered of again there, sorry. Now, it was now up to me to get to the bus on time. And I did too! My left side lips gave a slight curl upwards. Initially, I did, but the Swaggering blossomed.
I caught the 40 bus to go down Winchester Street, get off on Mansfield Road, and catch another bus into Carrington, where the Sherrington Park Medical thingamabob is. When a lady got on who I’d not seen for ages, I started a chinwag with her. As she got to get off, I realised that we were on top of Mapperley Plains Activated, and I got off with her but could not catch her up. I was in a mental flap of sorts, concerned about being late for the appointment. This kindest lady came to me and asked me if I was alright. I explained my big , and she asked if she could call a taxi for me. Bless Her! And she did. A taxi arrived in about three minutes and put the trolley walker in the boot and me in the back, and we were soon arriving at the surgery. Phew! There was a decent wait to be seen. Which told me I’d got the timing wrong again. I was proven right later on when the Doctor mentioned how early I had arrived. Tsk!
I told doctor Vindla of wee-wees, how painful they were and only the off sprinkle coming out. Off t the treatment room And she had a look ot the bladder and Shot up the backside to have a feel around. I felt that one! Then something long and cold. I didn’t ask.
Two Meridian gals… I think Tina and Jodie came in as I was sat sitting at the computer, trying to resettle the giant-sacked ball whatsit between my legs. The legs also grew greatly today? I fear that the photographs I took while out, fifteen of them, many never made it to the SD Card. A message something like ‘This photo cannot be viewed’ showed on the Lumix screen. Huh!
The FARCICALISATIONAL began. I got wrapped up well, remembered the Sample tube thingy, filled, of course. Hehe! I got to the public bus stop, and other tenants joined us there. And a bus arrived within minutes. I got into the vehicle with no injuries, got sat down and off we went. My mind was concerned at that time about what and how I was going to explain my symptoms to the Doctor. (I would have checked my notes written earlier… but they were in the living room back at the flat. We arrived at the next stop, and a lady and gent got on. It’s been so long since I saw them since I don’t get out much, and I greeted them like family and launched into questioning them about how they were getting on. The lady said she was sorry, but they were getting off at the next bus stop. Then a sickening feeling filled my stomach, with a self-hating mode coming on when I realised where we were, going in the opposite direction. I’d got on the wrong bus! I alighted with the pair, and not a full mode, but it soon became one when I realised the problem I was going to have to get to the surgery on time now.
I crossed the pelican lights to the other side, but none of the buses went to Carrington from there. (I wondered at that moment if this was a suitable name for EasyLink to use) But did not blame them; I more cursed my own luck and Dementia Doreen! This very kind lady came to me (I supposed I must have looked worried?) and asked if I was alright. I briefly explained my cock-up, and asked if there was a taxi place nearby. Bless her. She got on her mobile and ordered a car from DG for me. This arrived within three minutes and five more, and we were pulling up at the Sherrington Park Surgery. The sun came out as I paid my dues.
Whoever the lady was To whoever the lady was who helped dave the appointment for me. ♥
I got inside, and when I logged in, the lady in reception pointed to the chairs. (Doctoresse at this surgery for Please take a seat) Which in many ways was such a comfort; because it meant I was not late.
With how the eyes were, there was no point in taking the crossword book (although I meant to, I just forgot to, Ahem!)
I looked through every leaflet on the walls, and there was no shortage, but there were only about four with print big enough to read.
I sat for about twenty minutes: Not easy sitting, you know! When one of your man bits is three times the size of the other one, without trapping or sitting on it. Well, impossible, actually!
Dr Vindla came to me, smiling… that always scares me for some reason nowadays Hehe! The first thing she sails was, “You’re good and early today, Gerry. Let’s have you in…”
I’d got the appointment timing all mixed up again! Shouldn’t really be such a shock with my record, but so many in such a short space of time were worrying me a smidgeon.
I don’t suppose for one second that they bother my uninvited interloping brain resident, Dementia Doreen, do you think?
I’m surprised I don’t have a headache; I bet she’s in there amongst the confused brain cells, throwing a party. or maybe having a revelrous-celebratory knees-up with Alto-Ego?
I wonder how long it will be until my grip weakens so much that I will not care anymore? Just a thought. Well, at the moment, anyhow. Back to the surgery… I strayed well off-topic again there; sorry. I told the Doc all about my four sleepless nights and the mushrooming, three-time it’s usual size tender right bit in my men’s department. I can’t be certain, but I thought I detected a little wry-smile creep into her expression. It was off into the examination room for me with her. She got me positioned and ready for her to delve into certain orifices. She said; I’m going to have a feel… (By gum, that took me back in time, Hahaha!) a feel of your Prostrate, which she did. I just lay there in bliss for a minute. Then, another delve into the rear quarters, I sensed a bit of squelching, and then Dr Lona said something, but I didn’t hear what she said clearly.
Back in her room, then spoke again. She has sent an email to the chemist, which I can fetch now, for some MacroBid antibiotics. Do I did. But not until Dr Vindla gave me an appointment with the Nurse – I nearly got excited then. Haha! It’s with Nurse Lisa. For 30th December at 10:30hrs. I wish I’d asked what it was for, not hearing her tell me earlier, but by now, no-doubt Doreen was back in action, making sure that any signs of contentment, peace, or understanding had no chance in hell of maturing. She’s good at that.
For some reason unknown to me why this is the moment that what I thought was a swollen and painful right testicle started to turn into a really swollen and agonising pain-giving testicle! No idea what caused this, but as the day went on, in the morning, typing this, it got worse. I really am in the shit now, and have to walk to the chemist and then catch two buses to get home! A daunting challenge, that daunted me! Argh! Got to the chemist, collected the prescription, and had to decide whether to walk into Sherwood or use the bus. Not an easy decision. (Well, none are for me nowadays)
I knew that on the bus, there would be no chance of avoiding injury to Spanish Onion Henry. (I christened him that as I give names to all my ailments) Well, he feels that size, you see, to me. Hehehe!
Knowing that I had to catch the bus from Sherwood. No way would Spanish
Onion Testicle Henry have coped with walking up the steep hill; I decided it would be easier to walk into Sherwood.
There was only one really near-bothersome that happened en route.
When I was passing some of the brand-new Escotters on the kerbside. (Putting them in that spot must tempt the scallywags to use them on the road, surely?)I had the above thought (Oh, yes, I have thought every now & then, Why I recall having one in Made 1968). I had a few seconds scary . BY Gawd, SOSTH didn’t half sting for a bit. Good job, I didn’t go over. Anyway, I made a tag for him cause I see no signs of him getting any smaller.
Caught the bus in Sherwood back up to the flats and got inside, and must say, although I thought at the time, was painful, it was going to get a lot worse.
I dare not sit down at the computer at first for fear of inflaming SOSTH. So, I got the kitchen floor mopped. A pathetic effort, but it made me feel better for trying.
Then. Tina and Sam or Jodie from Meridian called. To tell me, Richard has spoken with them, and she has worked hard to get the NCC to allow some extra care time and arrange for the laundry to be done at no extra cost. She’s also trying to arrange for Richard – or another carer to go with me on Thursday to the Coppice hospital. That is a worry less; if it’s Richard, the hospital tells me it must be someone that can accurately answer questions about how I have changed in personality. Richard is the only one who can do that. I do appreciate them trying for me. ♥
After this, I honestly don’t know what occurred until the evening Carer arrived. It was not a good visit, a tension in the air as I recall. I was not given the new double dose of Omeprazole. The Peptac server was left on the carer’s table. And the waste bags were not taken. But I still offered him a treat in thanks. It may have been me talking too much again.
Shortly after the Carer left, my body closed down after I’d taken my third wee-wee in an hour. I . Woke at about 03:30hrs and was soon back in the c1966, £300, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner again, after taking a wee-wee. Great, only four awakenings all night to use the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). A record that!
06:00hrs: Woke up almost alert, realising that the Iceland delivery could arrive at any time. Unlocked the front door, had a wee-wee, then needed the Porcelain Throne, so used it. Moped the kitchen floor, made a brew, and took another wee-wee. Onto the computer (The memory pad notes say TV item F’ball), I’m assuming I put the telly on? Minutes later, a mega-yawning arrived. I greeted him with a handshake, and the fatigued-looking lad commenced a series of repeat yawns that lasted longer than I had ever seen before. Poor thing was looking shattered! Yet still, he operated to his usual effective standard. He offered advice on things and asked if there was anything else I wanted (The man’s miracle!) I’d be lost without his care and help. He’s done such a lot to get me through the last weeks of the Urine infections and worries over appointments. I insisted he take some treats with him. All deserved and earned! Wished home well and thanked him as he departed.
I had a wee-wee, and I got back to the computer, then and announced the arrival of the Iceland delivery. What help the splendid driver was.
He came straight in with the bags and took them through to the kitchenette for me! I soon set-to emptying the bags and getting the contents stored away. No excessive pains, giddiness, shakes or loss of balance.
I’m not saying things were magically okay, but things went so well I was almost confused! I did make a mistake with the Sunny juice. Which I believed was cordial!
As I found it on the Iceland listing doing a search for orange cordial, which it wasn’t! But muggins here thought it was. And started to put some in my spring water bottles, at least four of them. Well before I realised it should be kept in a fridge. Humph! Put some of Richard’s treats in the fridge to give him in the morning. Got a coffee to give him later in there to help freshen him up on his late call.
I persisted with the Monday blog updating and eventually got it done. I seem to have a new concentration this morning, and I liked it! Posted the blog off to WordPress, made a brew of Glengettie, and pressed on with creating this template
A sudden weariness came over me, and I fell asleep in the computer chair… waking up, I’d guess, about ten minutes later, confused, to say the least. I felt a different person when I woke, heavy eye-lidded, tired and fighting off falling asleep again? I had no choice other than to close down the computer and get my head down. I had such a deep sleep; it was too. I made a rough graph of the sleep line and the many awakenings forced on me.
I can’t recall getting out of the recliner for any of the many rude awakings I suffered at the hands of fickle Sleep refusing, Sweet Morpheus-hating fate… I got a bit carried away there, sorry!
Some of the awakenings failed to awaken me somewhat sufficiently, so I may be wrong in the writing of the wrong names. And reasons for waking, but other than that, it might, may, possibly, perhaps be accurate.
I’ve lost myself now…
When I did get up, I was feeling good again. Got on with the blog, finally starting this one off.
I believe that it was the body telling me I needed to rest. Later on, during Richard’s Evening Health & Safety check, I told Richard about the long nod-off and how I fell asleep so easily after each interruption. My body was willing me to calm down, basically. With so many sleepless nights during the infection, it makes sense. He spent time going through some paperwork that Josie had left on the Carers table. I can’t remember much about them now, but I think Richard wrote on the whiteboard.
This is the notorious second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Richard had a go at getting it going for me. He’ll try another day again. Hehe! Note the picturesque design of the layout of the two cushions? This was created with all my artisticness, not to look pretty but to help protect from getting crushed. You can just see the testies impression on the cushion. It works, as long as I don’t sneeze or pass the wind.
I took these photos of the evening view. (Sorry, I opened them now, Brrr!)I know they are not good! But I did my best.
I was about to make myself a sandwich and realised I’d not done the Health Checks yet, today. So, I did them! Much betterer!
All night long, wee-weeing, most often with less than a minute in between! Every one painful, but barely a trickle came out: Compared to yesterday evening and this morning, were poles apart, directly opposed to each other! At least I did have a good morning on Monday, and I got some sleep in. It was the rest of the day’s events that went all pear-shaped on me.
I gave up the early hours of trying to get to sleep. There were a few occasions when, by the time that I got back in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, grungy, pukin gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, grungy, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 moth-eaten, pukingly-beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, I had to get up again for another 2 fluid ounces worth of weeing! If that much! It was driving me crazy. The computer stood there, tempting me to get on it. But the way I felt, there was no way I could concentrate.
Then the feeling of cold and shivering-like sensations came over me. I don’t think I was sweating; it felt more like some Herbert walking over my grave? Then as I was typing this in the morning, well, late afternoon, I realised I must have gone on about this dilemma when doing the updating of the Tuesday blog. So decided that repetition is not a good idea. It may result in a reduced the huge, vast number of followers and readers of my blog. And they are both such nice people.
Again, the only things I can recall are what was written in the memory notepad. So it’s unlikely to be one of my more detailed dairies, sorry. Although some bits are clearish in the grey cells. Esther’s visit to do the laundry and overcharge me again. The Evening Carer, Carolynne, my, leaving two taps running! And my burning the meal. But at least up to now, the wee-weeings were a lot less than yesterday and this morning. Still, next to nothing coming out, mind you.
One thing that didn’t change, was my feeling so cold all day. Brrr!
I took the extra clothing off and replaced it with other heavy-duty gear. Started composing the ode to last night’s farce. I took me hours & hours. Most of it was spent correcting errors.
Took these views from the kitchenette window. One, the bottom was of the car park on Chestnut Way, in the block of flats.
Where I’m feeling so sorry for missen. No help
with sorting out things I cannot read from the Coppice Hospital. Now this new bug or whatever it is.
I did eventually get the Ode done. But now I don’t think it is any good.
Depressed again… but nothing like on Tuesday.
It must be Sods Law: Just when I needed the calmingness and help of my friend and, ; He gets put onto another site. He helps by going the extra mile, which is comforting, and much-appreciated help. Especially now that Doreen Dementia is getting at me more and more. I feel a bit cheated in a way. All self-pity I think. You could not believe the things I could no longer do for myself. not to mention , , I’d better not forget, , and the potentially lethal killer; . they can have me over in a flash if I bang them in a . Even the can cause problems when I start to panic, rushing back inside to check if the lights, taps or the stove has been left on. Ah, that reminds me! This very day, I left two hot water taps running. Burnt the shoulder and left the potato in the crockpot for eight hours. I’m not diving up[ on this, its that late in the morning again, I’ll do a rescue job on them -microwave, for breakfast.
The morning carer failed to issue the Omeprazoles. (Anne Gyna) Not hod fault, it was mine. I was nattering away giving him my sob story from yesterday. While he was prepping of the medications. I’d usually hold back on the nattering until the meds are sorted. But not this morning. I was so uptight with bladder trouble and no sleep for two nights.
Why am I up now? It’s nearly 02:00hrs already
I’ll stop now and try to rescue the food. Thankfully, I lost two hours of whatever I did.
The evening Carer arrived. Checked the taps for me; not many of them do that.
Then, the ankle ulcer started to smart a bit. But it didn’t look inflamed? Then everything stopped again.
EVERY TWO MINUTES, WEE-WEES RETURNED AND STAYED ALL NIGHT UNTIL AROUND 09:00HRS IN THE MORNING. THEY THEN GOT WORSE!!! HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS FOUND ON THE FILE. Mud Slide in Car Park. Long story, but I’m. struggling to type. Three days without sleep now.. Not feeling good. the wee-weeing continues. I pass one; they are all so painful… And two minutes later need another. Took an extra Furosemide, hoping it. may help me to pass.
No Help for Cataract or Mental Hospital Appointments Came
THAT’S MY LOT! – SO TIRED! ONE POORLY IN-PAIN PEASANT HERE
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 01:25hrs: Porcelain Throne, a wash, a second Throne visit, got the waste bags sorted out. A couple of wee-wees while I was making a brew of Glengettie. Got the Monday blog tackled and did it all the way through (although I anticipate a number of errors and mistakes). Back to the Porcelain Throne again. They were all of a sloppy Trotsky Terence variety and not a lot of it. As I was getting the Health Checks done and making the graph… and I am sure that this would amaze and stun you… But the internet went down!
Difficult to apprehend, I know. A man earning now, $26.8 million a year, plus bonus and shares, who buys Virgin Media from Mr Branson for so many billion. 24 billion, I think it was And can’t even get a service to Nottingham that is even slightly like a reliable service? You have to admire the number-crunching Smoke and Mirrors money manipulator.
Of course, it’ll be mainly jealousy at how much he is earning. And can’t do the job right… innit? Also, he must be a cunningly lucky man. He’ll know the few bosses of Liberty-Global above him, and no doubt fear of his spilling the beans on them ensures that Fries keeps his job? That and the back-handers they must be giving to the financial regulators. Just thought I’d mention it.
I thought the wee-weeing was bad now, but little did I know what was waiting for me overnight!
I got my head down and tried to relax and recuperate. But five hours later, Mr Fries, Liberty-Global, Virgin Media had not returned Internet was not on again.
Slept and woke for an hour, with no interest, and a totally confused brain caused me much misery. At 08:00hrs, Carer Shekiel came. Nice lad, we had a natter, treats in thanks, and he took the waste bags with him.
Noisy neighbour Herbert kicked off with his concerts of noise. At least they were different this time. The usual tap tappings, intermingled with the odd cappella serenade from his drilling tones.
I reluctantly started to fo the Health Checks again Not so good today, back up in the Hypertension-3 Red Zone. The SIA bringing a rather high figure. A shame about that.
Although I did this okayish, my tiredness and weariness returned. And my concentration was all over the place. I turned off the computer and sat down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner. All a part of the mysterious nature of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me!.
My mind was all over the place. I was hoping that ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress, Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, Or ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist and Warden Julie would find the time to get me some help on the ultra confusing instruction from the Mental Status Hospital. Even the address is confusing me. Hazelwood House, ‘The Coppice’, Highbury Hospital, Bulwell, Nottingham.
I spent the rest of the day in the recliner; in fact, I spent 12 hours in the chair. The wee-wees slowly increased in frequency and got more and more painful, with less flowing each time! As I said, no sleep again whatsoever. I felt cold all night, a feeling that someone kept walking over my grave. I made an ode in the morning for the Wednesday blog about this.
At 01:25hrs, I must have had 80 wee-wees! The total passed, would not have finked a tea mug! I started using the WC after this, hoping that it may encourage the rate of flow. It didn’t
Then I suddenly felt the cold more. I took off the jammies and put the dressing gown in the laundry bag. Then bot a thick bobble hat on my head, got a jumper on my torso, and a jacket on top of them. and a thicker pair of trousers on, and some socks… Boy, was that painful!
The rest, indeed even some of this, indeed repeated, I think, on Wednesday’s blog.
Sleep, repose, siesta, catnap, cwsg, shut-eye, in the arms of sweet Morpheus, inertia, schlafen, state of stupefaction, or whatever you want to call it: Was a most welcome visitor last night! An estimated snoozing period of around 6 hours was enjoyed. Grrreat! Brilliant!
Mind you, the actual awakening frit and shook me, I have to say. 05:00hrs, one of, if not the most violent yet reinvigorating, returns to consciousness I’ve had since waking up in the hospital after the stroke.
I have got bruises to prove it!
Oh, and two bottles of spring water, the torch and the eye drops were knocked off of the ottoman. Hehe!
After using the Porcelain Throne: Which incidentally was one of the best sessions in months, No bleeding, not a sign of pain, no mess, no repugnant pongs, and zero effort or input was required from yours truly, either! Grrreat! Brilliant!
I began to question if I was not still with Sweet Morpheus and dreaming.
Made a mug of Thompson’s Punjana and onto the computer. Not the tea on the computer, me! Thought I’d just clarify that.
Went onto the WordPress comments and had two come in… yes, twice the usual. Both are amusing, one from Tim Price (see above Ode). Another one from Professor Billum. I hope to find the time to make an ode about that one too.
I got the Sunday blog updated and made myself another mug of tea, this time Glenghetti. Took a wee-wee and got the ablutions done. Yet another (I know, it’s worrying, innit?) By flipping Lords of , Not a single nick shaving! Only a couple of harmless dropsies and one heading of the control box. Got the medications done, not needing to treat , , or the or !!! Grrreat! Brilliant! Fantastic! Fair enough, I did make the teeth and gums bleed a bit, but the only thing really bothersome was missing the eye with the drops. Not that it tastes too bad when it dribbles down into my mouth, discolouring my white (Now brown & White) moustache en route, but are they good for me? Haha!
Emailed the blog link, and did some Pinteresting… And then I fear all the good luck I’d been having crumbled… Nothing on the notepad or in the brain until announced the arrival of . Everything is patchy from here on until about 18:20 hours. I feel Richard and I spoke after getting the medications sorted. Treats in thanks, and vaguely think I went to the waste chute room with Richard? We spoke near the lift (elevator) doors; I’m almost certain, and I may have given him a man-hug?
This is as far as the notes and memory of that bit go. Yep, I obviously got the sonw, cause the graph had been updated, so I got it copied from Excel.
I think that Asda sent a message about short items and substitutes; think I deleted it cause it didn’t matter or something.
I was going into and out of awareness.
Reckon I got through to ILC Deana, cause it says on the calendar that she is calling to see me tomorrow.
Things are so puzzling. Seems even worse after waking up so sharp-minded as well.
I cannot remember doing these graphics at all.No idea when things came back into sense again for sure. But the notepad next page was found with some notes on it? But mostly undecipherable. I took a photo of what it looked like. My typing skills were well bad when I tried to get back onto blogging. I found some photos on the SD card. But it’s a guess as to what and where some of them were from and of. Amazingly some memories returned when I saw the pictures.
Remembered (now) taking these. Doing the ablutions. I was fine then, but still can’t recall taking them?
Oh, yes. The cooking tongues arrived. Now I remember why I took these, despite forgetting later on. It was the size of the box compared to the contents!
A wet mystery.
Asda delivery. Treats table new lines for Christmas added.
Whoopsiedangleplop Got the food in the oven and veg in the saucepan. Forgot about these. Burnt the hell out of them!
About 18:20hrs, sounded, and in came . I was back to normal by then and feeling much more aware and alert. We got the medications sorted out and had a mini-chinwag (Well, I did… Hehehe!) Treat in thanks, and off Jodie went. I can’t remember now if I locked the door or not… I’ll go and check. Nope, not locked. But it is now.
Chiselled the food out of the saucepan and got some fodder. I had to do some resuscitation on the food to make it eatable. However, the partially crushed Asda rolls were kind on the teeth.
Yet another sleepless night for the old man! Men’s Day UK as well! If any non-man is interested, I’ll be in all day, should you want to pop over. Oh, never mind then! Hehe!
Just after midnight, I was finishing off the Friday blog, and I decided to make a mug of Glengettie tea and dunk some of the Biscoff caramelised biscuits. Take a break, you know? It didn’t quite work out like that. Nothing unusual in that for me… but this time, the mess I made of it is worthy of mentioning. Mayhap they could make a comedy series out of it. Humph! I may as laugh about it now… Although I didn’t at the time, though! Here goes, “Inchie decides to make some tea…” ⓿ Took the cold mug of tea to the kitchen, put the kettle on, washed the mug, warmed it and got the Glengettie tea bag ready to use. All without any hassle… ❶ Kettle boiled, made the mashing, stirred it well left it to brew. As I turned around to check that I’d not left the tap running, my sleeve caught the cup as Pete shook the right arm. ❷ The mug travelled via my dressing gown and jammies and hit the most painful area available, smack onto my Bouncing against the bottom of the cupboard, and broke into several pieces. ❸ The hot water began to seep through my thick jammies, and I had to remove them sharpish! However… ❹ I rushed at it, well, I had to… and lost my balance as I lifted the second leg out of the jammie bottoms… ending up with a thud and on my backside on the wet floor! ❺ I had to crawl on all fours into the computer room to use the recliner to haul myself back up on my feet. During which… ❻ I knocked a bottle of Spring water off of the ottoman. It didn’t break or spray or even leak… but it did land on my other damned !!! ❼ When I got painfully up onto the plates again, my balance was all over the place, but I managed to limp, hobble and carefully get back to the kitchen to clean up the broken crockery and mop the floor. ❽ Trying to clean a floor and manipulate the mop and bucket, as well as using Metal Micky to keep your balance, is no mean feat! And I managed to stub a toe, Twice cleaning up the mess! In fact, a . ❾ I coped somehow, got the bucket & mop back in the wet room, and I made my way to the medications on the Carer’s table. I struggled to get the Germolene onto my toes and took two Codeine 50g tablets to ease the pain. ❿ I decided it was time to sit quietly for a while. I knew that sleep would not be an option. And for a couple of minutes, I sat there with my eyes closed, and the started! ❶❶ Then, just when I was getting over the scares, fears and worries, the kicked in. I just had to get up and check that I’d not left any taps running or puddles of tea to slip over… After checking in the wet room and kitchen, I seemed to be getting unbothered by how things had gone. It was, I imagine, what taking drugs is like, I became light-headed and unnaturally almost carefree? This lasted for about half an hour or so. I was back on the computer, and I was doing so well with the typing. I knew where the icons and hidden assist were without having to check in the book I made of them for CorelDraw… I was starting the graphics to use in the Health Checks. Then it was as if some git turned off the light in my head; everything returned to confusion and memory blanks. I think the outside graphic box specification, which I’d used ten minutes earlier, and found I had no idea how to get at it again?
I must get someone to phone one of the Help Line numbers given to me by the Nuthall Hospital; Just to talk to someone who might know and understand the problems that bring with her. To know that others struggle too… Oh, I don’t know…
I’ll stop now and give the blogging a break. It’s getting more stressful every day, but much worse this morning, of course knocking the mug of Glengettie over, burning your own belly and legs, making and having to sort out a mess, twice stubbing one’s ingrowing toenails after dropping the mug on one of them… and having to face Esther on Monday, having no warm dressing gown to put on now… may have contributed to my current . Did you see that? The Thought Storms are coming from my fingers now as I type!
What was I going to do? Ah, I’ll get the done. A stand-up job, of course. /it’s far too early to use the noisy shower and disturb my neighbours. Ah, well, I’m sick of hearing myself complain Hi-Ho, it’s off to the wet room I go, then… I faffled about getting some clothing to get into after the ablutionalisationings were all done and dusted with. Took me a while to get the socks I required, I knew in the cubby-hole I had a few pairs of the long black bamboo diabetic socks. But the other day, Esther put some socks in there after doing the laundry and mixed up my organised layout, and all the footwear was mixed up.
Of course, I got all the short socks together to move back to the front left and showed her skills, and I dropped all eleven pairs! Having to keep bending started off… it was too late by then, but I went and got a picker upperer to use. Which separated the paired socks, and then I had to sort them back into sets and get them back in the cubby hole. Took the shirt, trousers and the nearly dried but partially damp tea-covered dressing gown to the airer in the hall and got the others into the wet room. It was when I was brushing my teeth that I realised I’d still not got the diabetic bamboo sock from the cubby hole. That was the first of the three bleeding incidents during the ablution session; I rushed to get the teeth finished, and the blood flowed from the last broken tooth. Out of the lovely warm heater-on-full wet room, into the cold rubbish room, and got the bamboo socks. No sleep, nothing much gone right… I was getting het-up again! And it was so cold out there in the other room. Got the saving started; I used the four-bladed razors, thinking it would be quicker.Then, I changed to a two-blader to shave the back of the neck
As I looked in the shaving mirror, there appeared to be a blood flow from somewhere at the back? I got the camera out to try and see what it was by photographing as best I could to look at the viewer. But I could not locate the source of the blood. Cunningly (and stupidly), I dabbed some Brut aftershave on toilet paper as far as I could reach around my neck. That solved the issue! Boy, did I jump! But it did the job and stopped the flow. Then, seconds after checking on the annoyingly bothersome scab from last Wednesday’s burnt finger, got knocked off against the seat raiser corner… I believe I may have used some naughty language at this stage, as the blood ran down my leg and foot onto the wet room floor. Luckily I still had loads of toilet paper to hand from using it on the tiny-teeny-weeny little nick on the back of my neck shaving.
The leg’s DVT spider and saphenous vein look rather artistic this morning. They were bulging or swollen with it today, though so little snippets of good news are welcome here in the Woodthorpe Court mental institute.
After medicating various delicate areas and using the talc’ and the roll-on deodorant, it was time for the big challenge. Getting the knee-high bamboo socks on without using sock glide, Glenda! I feared for my newly opened-up scab on the finger… There is no way I could risk Glenda nipping, trapping or squashing it. I was dubious of my ability to get these extra-long socks on without Glenda, but I was determined to – if I could! It was a mixed-result session. I banged my head and then my arm against the door as I got my bulbous-shaped body into the corner of the room. Not sure how I managed to do it, but I stayed on my feet? Naturally, a . I’d still have to get the PP’s and trousers on; getting them on is not exactly a walk in the park nowadays. Well, the long socks and PPs were on; I then tackled the jumper and trousers. Huh! Easy-peasy!
I’ve not done the Health checks yet. So, I will!
Well, the body temperature result was most pleasing.
The Blood Pressure was surprising to me anyway, up back in the Hypertension – 2 Red areas? What? Why? How?
The Sys was only 138. in the green as well. Ah, the DIA was well up on yesterday’s 82 at 92, wasn’t it? Mmm! Fair enough, then.
The Pulse was high as well.
Ah! You win them all, can you? Well, I can’t, anyway. Hehehe!
I’d better get back on the computer and make a start on finalising the Friday blog. Not too much to do with it, being as I didn’t get to sleep, and I seemed to be in a virtually virulent mood in my work last night. Virulent? I’ll check to see if that’s the right word. Apparently, it was the wrong word. I’d love to remember which word I was thinking of using in the first place. Methinks the concentration is already crumbling. I must try to get caught up with some sleep.
08:30hrs: Burst forth in tune. And Carer Chirpy Charley bounced into the room. In a rush, she was late.
Got the medications sorted out. We had a mini-natter, treats were given in thanks, and off Charley flew.
For some reason, possibly induced and prompted by , I thought it was evening, and followed Charley to the door and locked it, as I should at night. Although, the key-safe; is still unopenable to the carers and me? Which could prove fatal if I have another strike and no one can get in to rescue my muscular-ripped, tall, athletic body after a tumble or stroke?
I must mention this to ILC, Tightrope-walker, and Warden this Monday. Oh! Also, I must ask her to read the multi-paged leaflets and instructions from the Coppice Hospital I have to digest. But the important bit is the things I have to take with me, the time etc. Not to mention I have to arrive ‘Not Late – but no earlier than 5-minutes? And to book an Easy-Link lift.
There is a list of about five organisations, that I may use to ask for help over the long waiting period for the hospital appointment. I need help on which one to use cause I feel I do need support over this. The print on the paperwork is just too small for me to read. It’s no wonder that Deana is ducking & diving from me, and I can’t get to talk to her. Hahaha!
I realised I should not have locked the door when Carer Charley left, and I went to put things right.
Found two bags of rubbish that had not been taken to the chute for me. I told you she was in a rush tonight… I mean, this morning.
Well, would you believe it? Liberty-Global’s $23.7 million salaried boss, Mr Fries, has failed to get a connection to Nottingham yet once again! I wonder if he still gets his annual bonuses and expense account? I mean, good luck to him. How many incompetent smoke and mirror men and number-crunchers like him get can earn so much for failing miserably? No wonder he told the UK Virgin people to never mention Liberty-Global to any customers when they ring in to complain… is it? No good; I’m going to try blogging again later, Mr Fries.
I’ll get some nosh and try to get some precious sleep caught up with. Fingers crossed! Oh, food first!
Warmed two part-baked bread rolls in the oven, and I cooked a microwave oven- ready-meal in the microwave. No problems with the timing, and they were both ready at the same time (9-minutes). One of the mini-pots of lemon-flavoured yoghourts. Atr it slowly, enjoying every forkful and spoonful! 9.15/10, Flavour! Of course, I added some vegan BBQ sauce to the vegetables and gravy. Washed the pots, and I got down in the recliner.
Into a deep sleep that was, I believe, unbroken. It felt like I had been resting peacefully for many hours when roused me back into ersatz life. The tune rang out; it was Carer Ty. He was in a rush too. He said he’s had his mobile for three years; and had just dropped it and cracked the perspex, which annoyed the lad so, as is to be expected. I asked him to take the waste bags with him, “No problem!” Thanked him.
I got confused again and thought it was morning, but it was still night! I’m getting fed up with this scenario!
Got the medications and asked him if he could check the taps in the wet room and in the kitchen, along with anything left cooking in the oven. “No problem!” Thanked him. After he departed, I noticed that the bags were still there near the door. No taps were checked.Well, I said he was in a rush. Hehe!
As it was only about 20:00hrs, I took the bags to the waste chute. No finger trapping, toe-stubbing or walking into anything. Although when I bent down to retrieve the dropped Metal Micky, it was : As I was reaching down to grab the stick, a mini came on. It only lasted for literally a few seconds, but it could have been almost fatal had I gone over and hit my head on the heavy iron chute drawer. Still, I didn’t take a tumble as I thought I was going to. That was because of my cunning avoidance tactics! I leant into the nearest part of the wall, and as I did so, the involuntary leg dance stopped dead in its tracks. As I had to get back to the flat yet. Hahaha!
I mused over the two incidents where I became confused as to what time of day it was. This regularly seems to happen to me when I am woken up by either the doors , or when above starts his banging and clanging. My musing moved on to the Hospital appointments and the genuine fear of the Cataract operation, and the first Memory and Mentally-Affected assessments at the Nuthall Hospital will arrive on the same day. what are the odds of that? Not as high as you would think, knowing my luck. I tried to stop the mind-wandering and depressing moments of self-doubt and insecurity.
As I started to get deep into the quagmire of self-pity and self-hating, the started off in both lower legs. That really didn’t help at all. I massaged, and Phorpain gelled the legs, giving it plenty of energy and a good massaging. Of course, it didn’t help! So I took yet another extra Codeine, 30g. Else it may be the third night of no sleep if gets as nasty with me again. !
I started the routine again. Got down in the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, itch-producing, none-working recliner.
03:15hrs: I woke, wee-wee’d, and went to sort the waste bags… and realised how confused I was this morning. milling-about in the brain were a few concerns that took priority in the fretting stakes: Will the Easy-Link be calling at 09:30hrs, as I wrote in the Google calendar? Did I put in on the right day? How easily the mode comes to one! This, I think, was because they usually ring me to confirm the day before – but, of course, I was out yesterday at the quacks, so so not know if they tried or not. Indicating to my perilously inept mind that perhaps I got the day wrong… or did I? Ah, it was Esther who called for me to book the lifts, wasn’t it? Yes, they should be coming today… He says…