– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I seem to have acquired more blameworthiness, Does this come from my apparent guiltworthiness? Or possibly, from my innocence & guiltlessness? May it be due to my banal gullibleness? It could be from my gutlessness or gutsiness, My seizure episodes that bring gormlessness? My life lived with no moments of being gregarious? Or my periods of excessive garrulousness? A lifetime of receiving sideways glances? Undoubtedly, my depression and gloominess? Or my lack of confidence, which is ginormous? My infected brain has a certain grotesqueness, My ageing body shows signs of ghostliness, Mind & body decaying, it’s getting grievous, As I mentioned earlier, always the guiltiness, My search for painlessness was gainlessness, Surviving life’s been a stab in the dark, a guess!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not the best of days.
At least I got some good sleep. It was broken, of course, but I reckon I still enjoyed a whopping seven hours. Nice!
The nocturnal pouch clour was another 4 on the NHS scale. With the Health Checks doing so well, I was well-pleased, to say the least.
A morning of mini-seizures. I’m not surprised; I was notified of a change in living circumstances late in the day. My own fault; only me or Doreen Dementia is to blame.
The seizures didn’t help. I struggled with the odeing and spent far too much time (Over four hours) trying to flow right. I’m not all that sure I improved it.
No confidence today. Plenty of the ankles sending electric shocks up the ankle, and the seizures, albeit they were short ones, I think, handicapped my brainpower.
A morning shot of the kitchenette view.
Adjusted the calendar clock.
And the biggest, well, most prolonged Seizure ever visited me.
I cannot recall much; the blanks were long.
In the late afternoon, I got the letter hand-delivered informing me about the upcoming changes.
Oh, I’ve not put the delivery photos on yet. So, I will. Some of my favourite eats were delivered.
But I was not in the mood to feel cheerful
about anything.
The Natoora tomatoes were a bit soft, but I used them in the meal later. They were tasty! Chessy-topped cobs.
I’ll have two of them tonight. The fridge was looking fuller now.
Now it’s Nosh Time. Battered onion rings were done in the oven. The mini Spanish tomatoes were thrown away; they tasted terribly bitter. All else was eaten. In my depression, I forgot to score the taste. And cannot remember what I gave it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheerio Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A PROBLEM-SOLVING ODE I have difficulty nowadays with problem-solving,
They keep coming, constantly revolving,
Solutions, Dementia is abnegating,
With her, I find myself argufying,
Neither side prepared for amnestying,
She seems against consciousness-expanding,
Memory-Mangling-Malcolm is not attenuating,
I spend far too much time error-correcting,
Instead of problem ameliorating,
Anne Gyna refuse pain subjugating,
My brain is beyond any aestheticising,
And I cannot take any more criticising,
Nit-picking, mockery or Starmer’s lying,
Crooked politicians, I find aggravating,
To hopes, I am no longer clutching,
I find life fatiguing and debilitating,
For Starmer, the hatred I’m harbouring,
His lack of compassion is inturbidating,
The Labour Party he is torpefying…
With his lying, fiddling & cheating,
His hatred of pensioners is unrelenting
He financially crippled anyone farming,
Thus, I find myself Starmer vernacularising!
Pensioners he has robbed & now he’s killing,
How he’s escaped prosecution is concerning,
He knows the crimes of others? It’s unnerving,
Is this why the opposition isn’t even chiding?
If they did, may they be in for good hiding…
Does he know of others’ financial juggling?
How to stop him? Revolution energising,?
To get my hopes pulsating, piquing…
To read of his painful, slow dying,
I’d celebrate by doing much imbibing!
It’s past time that he should be resigning,
Each day the git stays, the more I’m spitting!
I’ve few teeth left, but they are gritting…
He should leave, take up birdwatching,
Best suited would-be Emus; Australian,
With his record, he needs chloroforming,
With his cabinet, there’s been little conferring,
Apart from his drinks cabinet, port drinking,
He needs help, maybe some counselling,
By the Grim Reaper would be a good thing!
Assassination, I’m not considering… Although assassination has a comforting ring… His decisions may soon start boomeranging, If the end comes, & he goes… that’ll be bracing, Starmer will need swiftly replacing, Mayhap by a druid or a droid, it’s complicating, Or a human being, with his nature contrasting… One who isn’t always fiddling or lying? But to find an honest MP may be disillusioning, One fit enough to do Prime Ministering… Especially one that is morality-emitting, One who is history-free of lying & fornicating… An honest MP? It’s just an impossibility!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I stirred back into ersatz life. I waited for Twitching Neck Nigel to ease off. Nigel was accompanied by a few of Eric’s electric ankle shocks, which were shooting up my right leg. I think that Lymphorrhea Leslie is beginning to swell enough to burst again. But come the late afternoon, Anne Gyna became the worst ailment, even than the seizures, pure pain, and I was gasping with it as I walked back from Sherwood after shopping in the rain, but I mustn’t complain, and going to the dentist and cake shop. Not for me!
I used the small picker-upperer to get some cream on the ankle. Then, I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day Catheter bag. I realised I had time to go before getting dressed to go to the dentist, and I sorted the waste bags out as the first job. I decided to have just one mug of Co-op 99 tea and cut the water drinking out. I hope the catheter bag does not overfill while I’m in Sherwood. Before concentrating on what I need to do and take with me, I have a bus pass, keys, cash, card, and Bisoporol Fumerate in case Anne Gyna kicks off. Would you believe that I forgot to put some in my pocket? What a twit! I took a couple of shots from the kitchenette window of view on offer to the right and left. These didn’t come out too badly. The few snaps I took while out in the rain, legging it back up Winchester Street Hill, were terrible efforts.
I got the things needed in the walker and my pockets. (Well, as I said, I did forget to take the Beta-Blockers!
I put my feet in a bowl with an antiseptic disinfectant and soaked them while brushing my teeth and then shaving. I had so many cuts shaving this morning that counting them was hard. Haha! 7+ is my guesstimate! I spent much time stopping the little bleeders’ flow, but the Brut aftershave eventually won. I got some more Germolene cream on Lymphorrhea, Leslie. Then dropped the tube… hitting myself on the head on the sink. I precisely targeted yesterday’s injury as I bent down to retrieve it! Looking at this selfie, I seemed to have acquired more bruises than I thought. Of course, they could have been from last night’s Whoopsiedangeplop?
The innards rumbled and grumbled as I left the wet room, and I got down on the WC post-haste! Had I not been naked and I’d had to remove a dressing gown and nightshirt, I’m sure I would never have got down in time! This would have been another major embarrassing incident to clean up!
I got the medicationings done in a short time. My concentration was elsewhere, you see. I wanted to get at least a little done on the blog. I adjusted the old-fashioned clock calendar. I made another brew of 99 tea. Somehow, I failed to drink the first one earlier on.
Arrived on the first call. I had just gone into a Seizure Mode. Events are a little vague. I feel she helped me with the bus timetable. I can’t understand why I have this Arithmaphobia about numbers, time, etc. Dementia Doreen, I assume, getting worse and spreading her control.
I pressed on with the blog and got Mondays posted. Not a good one, but at least I got it out. Returned to do the Domestic. I was fully with it this time. She helped me get the diabetic socks on, explained the buses, and checked on my appointment with the dentist. She also cleaned for me. Bless her.
DENTIST SHERWOOD VISIT: I still can’t realise I left the Beta-blockers behind. But I think I’d got everything else I needed. I intended to walk down the hill and get the bus back up. But it turned out the opposite. As I was going out, Carer Sam arrived, and she walked me to the Winwood Court lobby. As I approached the bus stop and walked past it, I noticed a bus was due in two minutes. So, I caught it. Made a mess of getting myself sat down as Cartilage Chloe gave way on me. Two passengers helped me get off the bus four stops later in Sherwood. There are some kind folks. I appreciated that cause I was having a seizure at the same time that I got off the bus. My thanks go to them!
As I crossed the road to visit the Heron Store for the first time, the rain started splattering down. I remembered the pork knuckle, Pork Pie with egg, and potato waffles they used to sell in the Bulwell store, and my taste buds were already tingling as I went in and made my way to the fresh food fridges. They had none of my favourite foods on the shelves they used to stock long ago. Sob! However, looking at the receipt when I got home, I’d spent £16 with them. Cellotape, treats for the Carers and nurses, Easter eggs, and some Schweppes Tonic Water with watermelon. I did not realise what I was spending at the time due to a three-minute seizure at the checkout. I felt it coming, coped with it, then realised I was not with it.
Up the hill to the Dentist. A complete stranger saw me struggling to get the walker shopping bag up the 4 steps outside the front door of the surgery. Bless her. ♥ I’d never have made it without her tremendous help. I got into the reception, only to find that I had got the wrong time for the appointment! I was 1½hrs early! The lady looked at me with a sideways glance. I responded by saying not to worry, that I had my crossword book and pen with me, and I apologised for getting the timing wrong. I moved into the waiting area. And started on the crossword book. Amazingly, I got a few answers, too! The receptionist told me they had rearranged the dentists, and I could go to the surgery in a minute to be seen by another dentist. A minute later, she indicated that I could go in now. The Dentist had an investigation into the state of my teeth. Summing up, he said you will need significant surgery; are your teeth too painful. I waffled on about the pain spray I used almost daily, and he said the same as the other dentist said on the last four visits; We’ll see how you go; they should be alright until then, don’t you think? OK, I said. Went to pay the receptionist. £30. Who helped me & my shopping down the 4 steps at the front door.
The rain was heavier now, but that did not deter me from going to the cake shop to buy some cream cake treats for the staff. Unbelievably, as the lady asked which cakes I wanted, I delved into another seizure. Asked her to pick them for me. Paid with my bank card, and as I went out, I read the receipt, £8.90. I’ve spent a bit today.
I decided to take a different route back up to the flats. Instead of going down Mansfield Road and up Winchester Street Hill back to the apartments, I went down Hallem Road and around Winchester Hill. En route, the rain had disturbed all the mud from the many trees being cut down. They were pushing their roots up and cracking the pavement tarmac. I felt sorry for this one on the left. I can see beauty in trees, and I had a little natter to this one as I passed it. Don’t laugh! Hehe! As I got onto Winchester Hill and turned left, up towards the flats, I took this snap on the right. And the heavens opened up! The rain flooded down, and I tried to protect the things in the bag from getting soaked. But, worse… Suddenly, it got the worst she’d been, pain-wise, for years. But I was not surprised in the least. The struggle up the hill had annoyed her. I was stopping to get even wetter every few minutes and let the stabbing pains from ease off. Half an hour later, I’d reached the level of the flats. Anne Gyna eased off for a few minutes when I hobbled along on the straight, even, flat Chestnut Walk. I felt so much better when I got into the Winwood Court complex. I dropped the cakes off, and they gave me the list of my banking details; bless them both.
I felt weary but contented at having made the little trip without any real . And feeling good. I got up to the apartment and dried myself off. Emptied the catheter pouch, got the kettle on, and put the purchases away. Ah, I forgot I’d bought some beer-battered chips & onion rings. I might have them for tonight’s meal. If I ever get this blog started, that is. I opened the watermelon soda bottle and got on with updating this blog.
Carer Chris arrived. His new daughter, whose name he gave me, is in fine shape. I forgot her name, and I asked him twice.
It’s late now, so I’ll get summat made to eat. Carer Chris will be calling again soon.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Forgive the title, from this sonneteer, I know world peace will never appear, He writes uneducatedly and titular, As Odeist go, he’s a bit of a twattler… Oligarchs rule with their financial Mafia, No doubt backhanding scum like Starmer, Herr Starmer: the threats disregarder! Send a gunship to keep things calmer? That Victorian option is with us no longer… We threaten to send a negotiator, Who asks Israel not to get nastier, Giving Hamas the medicines we volunteer, HMG now monitoring UFOs from planet Kepler, Keeping a watchful eye on Russia and China, War with either would be a right humdinger! Definitely resulting in Earth’s departure… We’d use far too many armamentaria, Earth will explode, pollute the atmosphere… Of planets unknown & there’ll be no more beer! No wonder I’m feeling so confused & queer… We may all be dead, but we will gain ataraxia, Queue at St Peter’s Gate will take millennia St Peter dead human’s last arbiter? I’ll get to the back of the queue, & chanticleer! In hopes of meeting murderer Starmer, I’ll ask why he turned pensioner killer… But he’ll likely not bother to answer… I’ll have nowt to tempt him with no backhander, Ah… could I offer him a free coiffure? No, it’d be best to bribe St Peter… To send Keir back to the moon, alone forever! I like a good ending; it gives me pleasure! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ANOTHER GOOD START! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sorry, there’s not much in today’s blog, folks. I’ve been trying to sort out tomorrow’s routine and timing for a visit to the dentist. Bus timing and trying to be out long in case the catheter needs emptying, and still make time somehow for me to visit the Heron Store. Get some cheesy cons from Bird’s Bakery. The camera packaging and posting of the clock have been delayed, Carer Promise told me later tonight. And I’m a smidge nervous in the traffic of the return of ‘Erics Electric Leg shocks’ in place of the freezing sensation. The worst fears cause that is what they are. A cartilage giving way again might have me over, and Episodic Ataxia seizures & shakes might do the same while I’m out and about or in a shop, on the bus or at the dentist’s. I can’t believe how wearisome I am. The District Nurse arrived to replace the catheter contraption. I’d not seen this nurse before. From when she got me on the bed to the job being finished, it took ten minutes! Great!
I’ll have to rush this; I’m so far behind. 1900hrs. Comments and WP reader to do yet. No fodder all day either, but I plan to make some baked cheesy potatoes with any luck and not fall asleep or just forget to eat.
Nocturnal pouch.
Spuds readied for baking; they are still there 11 hours later.
Cup of tea, at last, a few minutes ago.
Early morning view.
The only afternoon shot.
Taken a few minutes ago.
Just took this one. Yes, I’ve missed the first Heartbeat Program, I just caught the second one; this may be fun, although that’s not the word. Confused and tired, I will read the WP extras, Comments, and WP Reader while I have the TV on. It seems that a few cock-ups are in the offing.
I’ll get the meal sorted when I’ve finished on WPing. Hopefully, I will find time to sort the update in the morning. TTFN
Update: Not a lot… I made a right mess of the meal photo. It tasted better than it looked!
04:55hrs: After an often-broken sleep caused by dear , I still got about 5 hours of sleep in bits, so that wasn’t too bad; I woke most unenthusiastically. I pondered over things as I sat there on the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, not fully aware of things, trying to figure out why I felt like this. I put it down to my having woken up with an activating seizure. My confusion started to clear after a few minutes. But I still felt a little off-kilter, mentally. Voids in my memory, despite believing I had been dreaming, there were no indications of what of. Annoying that, innit? I eventually, gingerly rose from the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, creaking, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and caught my balance. I took off the Nocturnal Catheter pouch to free myself to start the short mini-exercises… Well, that was the plan.
Within seconds of starting the stretching, I was on the floor, with a decent bruise on the forehead gained on my way down to the carpet. I still have no idea where or what I hit my head against. It all seemed to occur so quickly. Getting back up was as easy as it could have been, with me landing next to the recliner. Obviously, it was painful clawing my massive, flabby body back up into the recliner. Sensing that this was much more painful than usual, I considered pressing the Help Line Alarm. As my head cleared again, there was no blood at all coming from the wound, just hardly seeable scratch and bruise. I went into my Sherlockian Mode and realised why it hurt me so much, and I found the cause of the original tumble! Yes!
Had given way. I feel sure! After a few moments. The head bump was painless and only was hurting… until a minute later, when Took over as the ‘Head Ailment’. Confusion Konrad remained. And I’m not sure all this is in order of happening now. I forgot all about doing the balance routine after that.
I’m not sure why, but I thought a mug of tea would be a good idea or of any benefit. But I made one and adjusted the old-fashioned clock-calendar. I nipped to photograph the morning view from the kitchenette window. Misty and cold out there again. This snap came out all right. But I thought when taking it I saw a planet, albeit a tiny one, on the top left. No signs of it?
Carer Selina arrived. She noticed the bruise on my head. I made her laugh, telling her how it happened. Haha!
Back to my blogging. In ten minutes, I had five short visits . Then, nothing for an hour or so. And back she came, I had to give up, for fear of making so many mistakes that I didn’t realise then and losing hours of precious time to correct them. Humph!
I got pm Word to write the day’s Ode.
Came back on again. I had to give up again. I will sit down and wait it out, hoping it will not be another long one. They seem to tire me out.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Shasha is one of Tim Price’s
Colony of Cats. Bootiful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Made a meal and settled the football game.
There were two FA Cup matches to watch, and I did not move out of the recliner for hours and hours. I took this in a break between games. The first one was Plymouth Argyle beating Liverpool!
Made the nosh and settled down to see the second match. Aston Villa v Tottenham Hotspurs.
Then I realised that Quatermass & The Pit film was showing on the same channel after the footy. 1967 FILM NOIR They don’t make them like this anymore!. From 1953 to 1967, They made three Quatermass treats. The first one was made for a TV series. But, 40% of the original tapes have since been lost by the BBC. There are DVDs, but they have a lot of missing action. But I loved them them all. The TV one was poorly scripted, badly acted, and as for ‘Rocket Ship’ landing in the house’s bedroom, without destroying it… well, it was part of the fun and mystery. This was given the title, The Quatermass Experiment. The film concerns three astronauts launched into space aboard a single-stage-to-orbit rocket designed by Professor Quatermass. A TV series. Then (1953) QUATERMASS II film. Strange metallic meteorites rain down over Winnerden Flats, an eerie new town near a strongly guarded chemical plant. Professor Quatermass discovers that contact with the meteorites causes an unusual infection. He is also astonished that the chemical plant is modelled after his design for a moonbase, where life can thrive in an artificial atmosphere. Investigations uncover a conspiracy that extends from the Government level to the zombie-like workers who will stop at nothing to protect the plant. Quatermass deduces that aliens from one of the moons of Saturn travel to Earth in the meteorites, possess human minds, and share knowledge through a collective consciousness. I loved it! Especially with Sid James getting killed in the pub on Winnerton Flats. Ah, Memories!
. The last photo was taken as I looked around to ensure I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have. All looks good!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m off to bed now!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got about four hours’ worth of Kip! Great!
HAVE A GREAT DAY – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ANOTHER GREAT RESULT! –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do-do, do-do-do Do, do-do-do I’ve Morphine for the pain, just singin’ in pain, What a glorious feelin’, I’m drunk once again, I’m laughin’ at clouds, on Amitriptyline, The sun’s in my heart. I’m on Simvastatin, Beta-blockers ease the pain all over the place, Come on with the tablets, a smile on my face, I’ve been down to the lobby six times & again, Just laughing, & smiling, I must be insane! Dancing, laughing at the pain I’m happy again… I’ll cope and smile at the pain, I may flinch cause the pain is a bane! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – There were so many shooting awakes, but every time, I seemed to drift off back to sleep almost straight away. I think I amassed around 6 hrs shut-eyed, all the same. And welcome, it was, too! I lay there feeling somewhat confused about a dream I’d had. It didn’t make any sense. I scribbled some things on the notepad and may use this for the ode on Sunday. I’ll see how things go.
Dismounting the bed had some good and bad aspects about it this morning. The nocturnal catheter urine colour was a seven on the NHS chart. But no cotton-wolly bits were in the pouch. That was a plus! Also, no flow-back sensations when I emptied the bag. Another plus! A third plus was & did not give way throughout the standing up and exercises! Fair enough, Chloe caught me out later and all but had me over! The only hassle was from . She was determined to ruin my morning, to start with anyway. She did a fair job, too.
Of to the kitchen to get the kettle on. I foolishy opened the window to take this snap on the left of the morning’s view. What happened then? I’ll tell you… , several of them within a few minutes. It’s not a good start at all today.
1) As I clicked to take the picture, my foot hit a bottle of sea salt on the floor, breaking it as it tipped over. I then acquired a pleasant-smelling wet left slipper, sock, and foot. I cleaned up, sorted things and checked the camera. The shot seemed okay. 2) I went to the fridge to get the milk out. I dropped the carton, which didn’t burst open but did leak on the floor, and the same previously sea-salted slipper, sock and foot! Now slightly stickier than they were before. 3) The bad one! As I bent down, using
for support, the end rubber slipped on the not-yet cleaned-up milk! I didn’t go over, but it went much lower than planned. A Porcelain Throne motion started of its own accord! Oh, lucky me! At first, I dared not move for fear of a torrent bursting out at any time. After I decided, I just had to beat a path to the wet room. It was already too late to get there on time! . Frustration, shame, self-pity, inner anger at myself, self-hatred, and a flow of curses and self-blame rang out. I felt worse after having had the same problem the week before last. And this time, the mess I made was even worse. I was glad I wasn’t wearing any trousers at the time. I used the mop and bucket for half an hour and went to the kitchen to change and get fresh and disinfectant water. I wasn’t pleased! I was wheezing a bit, and the stabbing pains kicked in at full power! Eventually, I things and myself cleaned up and freshened and returned to the kitchen to make the brew of tea… Number 4: To find I’d left the hot tap run, and it was now stone cold! So, I cannot shave and shower until the water heater comes back on this evening. I’ve had better mornings!
Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. We looked up to find the name of whatever tablet I took to counter pain. We found it was the beta-blockers. Bisoprolol Fumarate. We also found that Glyceryl trinitrate (GTN), a short-acting nitrate that can be taken as a tablet or mouth spray to relieve angina pain. That may be the one they stopped me taking because of side effects a few years ago. I can say that the beta-blockers are not cutting it at the moment. There I go, moaning again. Tsk!
I got the computer on the go. By Gawd, it’s going so slow. But so was I, like an armadillo. Then I got rumbling below… Back to the wet room I went! I can report that after an original kerfuffle, I got to the this time in time! ! Again, it was a really messy evacuation, but all the mess ended up inside the WC this time. It was almost a pleasure visiting this time. Mind you, this is the first time in over a week that I’ve taken two dumps in a day. I took two Anti-diarrhoea capsules earlier, which I’m glad I did now. However… on leaving the wet room, I turned and fell over the mop bucket I’d left out after cleaning the mess up this morning. I managed to get back up using the WC. But I cracked the plastic lid in the process. More expense and hassle to go through. A feeling came over me that many words could describe: Foolish, incompetent, unequipped for life, pathetic, useless, hopeless, inadequate, deficient, imbecilic, incapable, thick-as two-short-planks and foolish come to mind. Pick one. Any would fit me or even all of them. Did you notice I am getting a little low? Haha! Depressed is not a sufficient word to cover it. I’m moaning again. I’m sick of hearing myself!
Carer Joanne called to collect the laundry for me; I’d be lost without the help I got. ♥
Well, I’ve been at it (awake) for about 12 hours now. I’ve been swamped all day, achieving next to nothing. Unless you count having a series of silly, embarrassing, and frustrating and sorting them out and making some cracking cock-ups, all I’ve done is blogging. Mistake-ridden, but never mind that. It’s all part of this chronically embarrassing nature of this Saturday. I’ve just had a thought… I wonder if the dream I had last night, which I can’t recall, was trying to warn me of events that occurred today?
Well, the Carer is due, and I am hungry. No point in making a meal yet, to be disturbed while eating it again. So, I’ll go onto WP Reader and look at the Comments first.
Carer Promise arrived. I begged him to find out about posting the parcel for Tim P. He said he would help me, and he packed the parcel. He will finish the job on Monday or Tuesday.
I updated this blog up to here. And made a much-needed strong brew of Co-op 99 tea. This shot should have been on earlier, but I missed it.
Late postal delivery arrived. It was from my good cyber friend and excellent photographer, Tim. To replace the broken Kodak.
The same model that had broken it got the blotches on every picture taken.
Thanks, Tim. I appreciate it. Having the same model should help me figure out how to set it up!
Then, I sorted out a meal. But this one wasn’t!
I watched two FA Cup football Matches in about 200 parts. I kept nodding off; they were on an advertising channel, and I drifted off every time they came on. Gave up in the end and wanted to get in bed, but Tiredness Terry & Fatigued Frank meant I slept in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue collecting recliner. Constantly waking up with either or pains twinging away.
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Grim: Ayeup, Inchy! Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me! Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy! Inchy: Wot? Grim: Yer always greet me affably, Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family! Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see? Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy, my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND, Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily, Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly! Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day! Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, At making friends, I lost the ability… Being flat-bound, & many a disability, Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me, Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny… Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie… So, despite everything, I feel lucky, I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery… Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity! When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me! Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony! Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly… Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly… Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly, Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity? Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery, Cephalometry, specifically craniometry, I go willingly and happily… Grim: Why happily & willingly? Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready, Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness, despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious, How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness? Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening, Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating… Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating! Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating, one event watery, the next constipating… Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting… Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking! Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing, The stove blew up, so; no cooking, The intercom broke, so there was no communication… Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in, Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing, Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching! When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming… Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting, While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing, Someone may also be texting or emailing… Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing! The Catheter bag slowly filling… Back to the flat for emptying, Usually when the delivery will be arriving! Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying, And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding! Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating, Then my grip on things starts deteriorating, Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting, Dementia & PN, I start chastising, The computer requires defragging, But how to, I’m not remembering, Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling, The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating… My mind turns to food and eating, The bread is wet from the bottles bursting, Soaked with a shandy flavouring, Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning, Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting! And you wonder why I don’t mind dying? Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.
I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.
I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once. The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?
I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so, had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.
So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.
I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.
Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.
I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).
Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.
I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.
I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.
Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.
New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,
An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed myrent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me. At the bottom, I found this: ‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’! I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!
I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!
I went to get the meal cooked. I had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?
Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!
MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW! What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no! Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!
Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HELP FOR ALL! – – – There’s usually a thought worth thinking… Until a problem arrives, more demanding, Though factors currently depending… On seriousness, practicality & spending, Earlier plans may need synchronising, The original idea may need some tweaking… Options left available may leave you seething, Chances of success may be receding? Can you see where this ode is leading? Your intentions may be beyond solving, But you’ve got me sympathising, You must be realising… I do not want to be scaremongering, Needs, desires, once so promising, Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising, If possible, they need reorganising, These failures will be nauseating, Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening, No need for any self-admonishing… Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing… We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing, I’m pretty good at motivating… You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻
Then things started to get farcical! The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working. JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery. I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time! The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed. This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows! Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘
Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!
Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.
Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card. I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour. If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in an unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!
The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?
The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.
Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.
I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.
Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting. A wide shot, the top one. Pretty really! I zoomed in to get a close-up. Strangely, this one came out alright, too.
The next job was to get something to eat. Which I did. Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault! I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!
Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SO FAR THIS YEAR… A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost!
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly! The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular! I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems. Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent. Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups. Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time? Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. Can’t get any help! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I am struggling all around, losing ground… Things going wrong… others compound, Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned… The end is high; I’ll be bound! I’m sick of being flatbound. The sanity I once foreowned… Has departed, and I’m all alone, With help, my confusion to unconfound… For solutions to confusion, I toss around, But my brain is now thought-barren ground, Ever more problems to confound… Will I take them with me to my burial ground? Frustrations are just grinding me down! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – KEEP SAFE, FOLKS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Humankind, the epitome of entanglement, Each human individually so different, Some are passive, some violent, some truculent… Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant, Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent! : : : : : The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent, The poor, without clean water, living in a tent, The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant, The lying greedy shower in Parliament, Those mentally challenged & obmutescent! : : : : : The law-abiders, who are so obedient, Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent… No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent, The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent… The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant! : : : : : The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance, The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment… Stewing inside with injustice & resentment, Outwardly displaying mock-contentment, Their hopes & desires are only ruminant! : : : : : The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant, They forget things, making them more inconscient, Those without catheters may become incontinent, Their life’s meaning turns intervenient, Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent! : : : : : The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient! Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment, Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent, I can no longer afford to get myself temulent, Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment! : : : : : I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt… What chance of my body and brain’s renascence? I often go off track, lose the plot and scent… Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent… For years, my body has been going putrescent, Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment, I’ll leave this Ode as my testament! : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in! 04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe! I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!
I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them. I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha! When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes! After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. ! I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream onand feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!
I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.
Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added. Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.
I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?
Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART 214⅔ – – – My confidence in politicians is gone forevermore,
It’s been fading, but now we have Starmer…
I don’t want to be an alarmer…
But the animal is a liar and a falsifier,
Prime Minister? More lie a financier,
A get-rich-quick dictator, a Führer,
I hope he soon starts to flounder…
His dodgy use of his filibuster,
Attacking now the fox-hunter,
After robbing money from each pensioner,
And financially crippling each farmer,
Next election, we’ll have no agriculture!
What next from this fiddling fraudster?
This untouchable political freebooter?
What is next on his agenda & addenda?
Expect anything from this tax-imposing liar,
: : : : :
As for his pensioner’s fuel-payment abduction,
That was his most significant, cruellest abomination!
No sign of the Railway’s renationalisation?
The only things that he shows any affection…
Seems to be backhanders, port & bourbon,
His ego seems to flourish and bourgeon…
Increasing taxes, with contradistinction,
WASPI campaign, Starmer tapped into the emotion,
“Said he’d help them get compensation”, more aversion,
HMG denied 3.6 million women’s discrimination! He said they would cut energy bills to £300 immediately,
Set up GB Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company,
1st Jan; the EPC came into effect, bills rose, alarmingly,
More Starmer lies proven, Ministerial batrachomyomachy!
Labour promises are fake and disobligatory,
Starmer’s killing off the Labour Party… magnificently!
: : : : :
Starmer has all of the required political armamentaria,
To be the most successful Labour Party annihilator,
He’s moraless, and a clever cunning misleader,
An effective commoner, worker & proletariat bleeder,
He seemingly believes his own counterpropaganda,
Lies freely, takes backhanders without any forfeiture,
Installs a lack of faith & hope in each Labour voter,
He’s ridden with greed, self-wealth & pleonexia,
He’ll falsify, confuse, cleverly pretends to palter…
I’d like to see him go on a psychogalvanometer,
He has arrogance, deceit by the plethora,
A verbal illusionist, an indirect trickster,
This completes today’s Ode to Starmer!
: : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – DONE WELL THIS WEEK! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve been counting Starmer’s lies, worse than I thought – He simply won’t stop! All politicians are economical with the truth. Sir Keir Starmer has lifted lying to a new level. And he doesn’t even hide it. If there’s an art to lying, the PM hasn’t bothered to master it. He lies and lies again, and there’s no art in it at all. He just says whatever suits him at the time. Broken promises, u-turns and pledges, and it’s exhausting. I’d quickly run out of space if I tried listing them all here. He started by lying to his own party, winning support for the Labour leadership with 10 key pledges, including abolishing student tuition fees and the two-child benefit cap and nationalising public services. All quickly dropped. Having secured the support of the Corbynite left, he stepped up his efforts by lying to the rest of us to win this year’s general election. Starmer led us to believe Labour would retain the Winter Fuel Payment and said nothing about scrapping the £86,000 cap on social care costs for elderly or tax-targeting farmers! There are further proven 162 lies recorded that I can use later. Undoubtedly, he will have added to the total by the time I get around to using his current lies and deceitful statements. Bless the unscrupled git! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:00hrs: After one hour of sleep, I bolted awake, coughing away, jerking my neck and head to my right. I’ve never had a more extended Ted session before. I was close to pressing the alarm-alert wristlet. I was getting a little unnerved by the Twitching. But within 5 minutes, the chesty coughing died down, and ten minutes later, calmed down. Phew! He didn’t just stop as he usually would; this session was a gradual slowing down of the rate of twitches until it stopped. I removed the grade 7 on the NHS chart urine catheter pouch from the day pouch. I realised the weekly Friday changing of the catheter day bag had not been done this week! No wonder I’m suffering with pain from the tubing in poor Little Inchy! But it’s partly my fault; I’ve had unfamiliar Carers calling this weekend due to the shortage of regular carers with illnesses. I should have reminded them. Later, I even forgot to ask Carer Shaquille to do it. Tsk!
I suspected things may be different today when the innard’s warning to get to the wet rooom Porcelain Throne was interspersed with violent belching and noisy escapages of wind from my rear end. I was right!It took me a lot of pain, effort and time to force the one massive, gigantic, solid submarine to even start evacuating. I can’t remember any events of this nature where it took me so long to achieve the required bowel movement. Amazingly, there was less bleeding than yesterday, but the escaping product was half as large again compared to Saturday’s torpedo. It was so much so that I added water, waiting for the cistern to refill 3-times from the tap to encourage and unclog the monster on its journey to the sewer below!
I took some early morning shots of the view from the kitchenette window. Both have the ‘blotch’ partially hidden. Again, there was a green hue in the sky. I took both shots slightly higher than usual, so the darkest bits masked the blotches. Haha!
I got the computer going and started updating the Saturday blog. First, I needed to use CorelDraw. After doing so, I had the first run of since yesterday’s teatime. They were all short ones, but this made them more easily recognisable. So I decided it would be better to go and make a brew of Glengettie. Gave way on me as I went through the kitchen door. Banging my knee against the cabinet corner triggered a reaction , and both ailments got a good dose of Phorpain gel, and I took a Codiene to be on the safe side. When any cartilage and Arthur Itis get a clouting at the same time on the same leg, well, it does hurt a bit. Haha! Of course, this didn’t bother a fit young man of my granite-like pain-bearing qualities.
The tea had gone cold, so I made another one. Making sure I drank it while it was hot enough! As I took this photo, I realised I had not yet changed my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. So I changed the day & date on my c1970 antiquated, old-fashioned clock calendar. Then, I discovered that I’d made I’d been dating all the graphics with the wrong date and had saved some as the 1st and others as the 2nd to different files! It later cost me hours to find and move them where I wanted them. Obviously, I did not swear, curse, spit, thump the wall, growl, wail or get angry or depressed over this at all.
Carer Shaquille arrived. Changed my socks, medicated me, and we had a short natter & laugh.
I was working on the ode, and revisited me. Boy, was this bad. I had to give up, but I did some work on the Liar Starmer insult content. My hatred for him still came through!
Carer Kimberly did the next call. Which helped me come back from the brink of unconsciousness. I’ve not got the foggiest idea what I was up for the previous few hours before her arrival. We spoke about the dentist and nurse’s visits and the Q&A form for HMG that I need to fill in next Wednesday. Kimberly will go through it with me.
As the seizures eased off, took over as the primary ailment in action. The occasional coughing and sneezing, presumably from the Novovirus.
The sunshine was trying to come out late this afternoon. I used the loan camera from Jenny for this one to avoid blotches. It came out okay?
Another emptying of the catheter day pouch. I must remember to ask a Carer to change the day bag. How I keep forgetting beats me. Mind you, so does the cotton wool, which looks floating in the urine. Might the cause of the feedback pains be the pouch not being replaced and the cotton stuff blocking the exit tube? I must remember! The regular Carers usually remind me about this on Fridays. But so many are off work poorly. I felt guilty; had I passed my virus?
I was desperately trying to get to sleep. Amazing… I nodded of at long last after days without sleep!
Carer Victor arrived and woke me up!
I struggled again to get back to sleep for about four hours.
Blessedly, I nodded off again. Carer Richard arrived and woke me up!
After this awakening, I could not get back to sleep. I gave up the idea at 01:30hrs and got my ablutions tended to.
