– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My ponderings are, at times, encyclopaedic, Though they rarely show any signs of being gnostic, Mostly, dizzy, ditzy, sceptic, and simplistic, You could say they’re Starmeristic? Though at birth, they can seem astronomic, In reality, they can be catastrophic… Regularly scatterbrained and nonspecific, They come and go like an epidemic, They all possess a degree of the unspecific, Mingled with thoughts, though microscopic, Seeming to others sort of verbally monolithic, With humour, fear, desires and the hyperbolic, Often resulting in being self-homiletic, Common sensical, yet psychedelic, Like life, ponders can be oneiric, But pondering is not all that terrific! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – VERY PLEASED WITH THIS WEEKS RETURNS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up the ghost of sleeping. I took off the nocturnal night pouch and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk! First, there is a chronically badly taken view from the kitchen window. Which is nothing like the view my eyes saw. One of my worst efforts! Followed by a wider shot, which produced an almost as bad a reproduction as the first disastrous effort. This lone camera will have to be studied. I can’t see the small print on the instructions nor determine the option buttons. I tried again an hour later and got this effort on the right, using the other camera. Better?
I’d been up late, so there was not a lot of catching up to do on yesterday’s blog. I titivated it and posted it to WP.
I felt terribly cold this morning, but my flu symptoms were no worse. My throat seemed easier than it had been yesterday.
Then, the morning summoning from the innards sent me scurrying off to the wet room for the daily Porcelain Throne evacuation. . Soft as things were that evacuated this morning, there was a worrying amount of pain & blood (not too much; it was Harold’s Haemmorhoids) that came with it.
I had a slow, steady washing and a painful medicationalisation session. Little Inchies Fungal lesion and, more rarely, Harold’s Haemmorhoids gave me the most hassle. The piles were bleeding far more than they usually do, but not too painful with it. It was stopping the flow that took the most time. After finishing and getting dressed, I returned to the computer. After about an hour or so, the sneezing started to kick off, but the throat was much more manageable. As usual, there were a few specs of blood from the nose. Blowing the nose, I realised how the tissue was getting cut up. I’d not had a shave! I shall go shaveless. And try not to shave at all. See how it goes, as Tim Price put it, ‘Going Caveman Style.’
Unknown Carer arrived at 09:45hrs. I worked on the daily ode. Carer Suen arrived at 11:15hrs. It was too short a break between calls for any painkillers to be issued.
Having done a bad job of this morning, Jenny loaned the camera. I tried the old Kodak Tim camera, hoping that by some miracle, the blotch on the photos would not show up this time.
Oh, dear, that didn’t work either. The blotch is more prominent than ever now. Shame. I put the lens cleaner on it, went over it with the soft cloth and spray, and tried again. Did my bestestest.
I’ll make some nosh then.
Very nice it was too! Chinese belly pork (very fatty, naughty… but nice!) & baked potatoes with No-butter butter and a blob of BBQ sauce.
Washed the pots and sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch two episodes of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’.
AT LONG LAST… I fell asleep, Oh, the sheer Bliss! Five minutes later, Carer Precious arrived. Could I get back to sleep after? No!
Carer Precious did the last call and took off the diabetic socks. Meds were issued, and he fitted the catheter night pouch.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Now HMG oozes sycophantishlier, Starmer, the hater of the farmer… Robber of every pensioner, Ever ready to take a backhander, A well-proven by-omission expert liar, Self-Wealth being his main desire, What’s he doing in Labour? He’d make a better dictator… His compassion is in absentia, Labour values, he does besplatter, With Oligarch’s, he’s getting chummier, He seems a qualified puppetmaster, Like Goebbels, he’s good at propaganda, As he leads the UK to disaster! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night! The Bug is Back. Influenza Norovirus. Sore throat, chesty cough with the odd painful sneeze here and there. Wheezing, aches & pains of the joints. Runny nose and eyes.
04:00hrs: Gave up trying to sleep and got up. Feeling so weary, achy and confused at the same time. I soon felt the pain from the weighty, overfull day pouch tugging at Little Inchy when I got out of bed. Last night, I felt even more confused and realised that the Diabetic socks had not been removed, and the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch had not been attached.
Not a good start to the day. (Little change here, then!)
Computer on, finished yesterday’s short blog and posted it.
Made a tentative start on this blog. Noticing that the stomach cramps were getting worse as the time passed. Humph!
An instant demand from the innards had me scuttling to the wet room to get to the water closet in time to avoid the assessed coming of an involuntary evacuation… I didn’t make it in time! What a frustrating affair! It took me ages to clean up. It was such a messy, smelly, sticky evacuation. Red-Face-Engaged!
Carer Richard arrived. I knew he’d been off work, but I thought it was just because of the flu, but he mentioned his accident at home. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the washing machine door and knocking it off. Waking up hours later, covered in blood! Concussed. Poor lad, he appears to be as lucky as I am, which is not lucky, of course, well, not good luck.
I’m still doing better in the Health Check returns this week.
But sleep, or rather the lack of it, that’s another issue that defeats me. This afternoon, just like last week, I felt so drained that I attempted to use all my experience to try and get some!
I ate some battered fish balls to settle my stomach. Put the TV on, usually one guarantee of nodding off, and sat in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. With my feet up on the chair, the recliner does not work.
Four hours later, I was still wide awake and yet desperately needed sleep. I was pondering over whether I should move onto the hospital bed.
The door chime chimed out – It was Frank, Jenny’s husband. He bought a camera for me to use from Jenny. ♥ I was immediately off into a worried mode that it might go wrong while I had it. Thanked him for Jenny. We had a lovely little laugh about things we were suffering with. Frank has only just got over the Flu Novavirus himself. So kind of them. And Tim Price, my cyber-mate in New Mexico, has said he will send me a new Kodak camera to use. I’m being well cared for here. Bless them!
Carers Selina and Simon made the subsequent calls. I laid on the bed, lights out, and the curtain drawn. I got plenty of lethargy, languor, and listlessness but no sleep!
So, I started updating this blog.
Photographs taken today: Puffer clouds. Afternoon sunburst. Sunset. Sunset zoomed-in. Not a good one, but the moon. Evening all! Not used to the camera yet. (Excuse! Hehe!)
I made next week’s food order. J Sainsbury this time. Tuesday 4th February 6>10a.m.
I went on WordPress Reader, did the ablutions and put my head down. The TV failed to get me to sleep.
Finally, I started to drift off a few times, but each time, I’d wake with a helluva jerk and jump, shooting to the right, creaking & cracking the neck.
I gave up at 04:10hrs and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I once had hopes of understanding Aristotle, His views seemed inevitable, apodeictical, Which led me to study causations, aetiological, My lack of education drove me apoplectical, My efforts all failed, confused & pathetical, Depressed at my failure, I tried phenobarbital, My studies, & results sadly turned pedantical, I gained an appreciation of beauty, philosophical, Accepting my abnormalities as psychological, The black & whiteness of life turned quixotical, My inner thoughts turned into a vague quiddle… Understanding others’ problems became quintessential, My thought processes turned quodlibetical, Decisions taken? Some, primarily quasiexperimental, Asleep, awake, I’d stutter & gabble. My brain turned into a tangled graticule, As Dementia began to rule, I turned gullible… To graceful, grateful, then gladiatorial, Confused by numbers, figures, things horological, Life came hazardable, unhealable, not hearable,
Things hopeful, humourful, became hurtful, With no control, events results became happenstantial, Why, where, whom, which, when… are now idiopathical, Problems insolvable, inconcludable, not influenceable, Hopes, dreams, permanently imprisonable, Some things remain so impressionable… Nature, the trees, the sky, the bramble, The daisies, bluebells, mankind’s burial, The fish, the birds, even the dung beetle, I fear the oligarchal & bureaucratical, The politicians are so bribeable! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Oh, flipping ‘eck! Sleep is back to being accompanied by no less than . None of my usual tricks to shut him up worked. I tried guzzling soda water from the soda bottle. Nope! I moved from the hospital bed into the c1968, non-operational, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, germ-breeding, Harold Haemorrhoid-Testing, catheter-tube-yanking, sickenly beige-coloured recliner. Nope, no good! This made him worse by lambasting away at my problems and faults! Grumph! I turned the TV on, which seemed to annoy him more than ever! This grinded away at my confidence. He’s been leaving me relatively hassle-free these past 6-7 nights. He’s back now!
I gave up and got up; my balance was in good condition as I released and emptied the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch. Then, a summoning from the innards to visit the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, I did! It was a Trotsky Terence performance similar to yesterday’s. But masses more of it!
I’m doing well with the Health Checks this week. Carried out the medical cleaning and medicationings. This cough medicine tastes horrible. Haha!
Computer on, & updated yesterday’s blog & posted it.
11:20hrs: Carer Kimberly came to do a finance and appointment check visit. Starting with an email filling-in form (At last! ) to make an appointment with the Dentist. It was made for Tuesday 11th February. Then I asked her to inform the District Nurses of this appointment in case it clashed with their appointment to change the Catheter Contraption. A good job I did, too, cause it did clash. They rearranged their time for Monday 10th February. I put these down in the Google calendar to be on the safe side. During the visit, the grinding dry cough returned. I fear the Influenza Norovirus is returning again. This is the last thing I need… but it is!
As departed, I had to rush to the wet room again. Another mega-messy mammoth dollop of an evacuation was taken! During the evacuation hit me, and it took me a while to get back up on my feet; then, it was a struggle to stay on them. Oh, dearie me!
I will try sitting down and getting some obviously needed sleep catch-up. I didn’t work, of course, but I took my mind off the ailments by watching an episode of ‘Heartbeat’ on TV. Then sat through a second episode, with little outbursts of the damned coughing and the occasional sneeze.
Influenza Norovirus is returning again! Back is the sleeplessness. Sore throat. Cough. Utter weariness. I tried to get some sleep and ended up doing nothing but watch TV, drowsily but no sleep as such for the next nine hours. During which two carers came. Richard was one of them, and Precious the other. Confusionableititus Reigned. Not in a good condition. Sweet Jenny phoned – she has a camera I can use, bless her, she’ll drop it off tomorrow for me. Bless you, Jenny! ♥
I gave up on getting any sleep and got up around 04:00hrs to find I’d left the computer on, and I am now getting blue memory warnings on the screen.
May have trouble doing the blog. I’ll try to get the ode done on Thursday if nowt else.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – In my dream, were things terrestrial, Thoughts, hopes, desires, nothing bestial, Treaties, warrants, insurances, so torchable,
Guilty, Oligarchs, politically, & legally untouchable,
Due to our lawmakers being so quickly bribable,
MPs values, honesty, reliability at best theoretical,
How have they solved the Bermuda Triangle?
The mystery seems to be uncrackable,
No-hours contracted workers, legally sackable,
Farmers, pensioners, HMG find robbable,
MPs expenses no longer seem checkable?
Proven dishonest leaders are impeachable?
Guilty murderers are so quickly freeable?
Ministers are unpalatable, unpardonable…
Them lining their pockets seems unstoppable,
Morals & standards are sacrificeable,
Decency & compassion are no longer salvageable,
Despotical bigotry, actions detestable…
Wars, violence, greed everywhere detectable,
Can we trust anything electoral?
Politicians are doubtable, dishonourable,
Do they need help, exorcistical?
They are unceasing with their flummadiddle,
They’ll always seek a way to fiddle!
They are the reason the world’s in such a pickle!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
With no Carer to loan me a camera for a week now. (Which is understandable; he’s taking photos of his new baby daughter with it, [I hope]). I’ve been fairy-minded and took a picture of each day’s meal in the hope that one may get on the Kodak. However, I’ve not been checking to see if the last six had made it to the SD card until this morning… well, it was late afternoon. Last night, none of the others made it to the SD card, but this one did! (Or did it?). I half expected it not to go on. I spent ages trying to get the card recognised, and when I eventually got to it, this photo was there! There is a chance it may be an old one, of course. So, I took another picture straight away… that did not go on. The second, third, and fourth ones didn’t make it either. Now I’m doubting what I actually had for the meal. With the others not going on, I think it is likely that I made a mistake somewhere along the line. My new excitement at thinking the camera had miraculously started working again was replaced with a new low – mostly at my stupidity in thinking this was from last night. Humph! Confusionableitis Reigned. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Once again, the night’s rest was well-broken. However, I soon nodded off after each awakening, back into the bliss of sleep. I had several dreams, but my memories are too vague to guess at their topics. When I shot awake at 7:00 a.m. and realised it was so late, I also realised that I must have skipped at least six hours. So that was good. Then the run started. I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch and started standing up using . Within seconds I was clunking back down into 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. Unsure if , or hurt the most. I decided that a cautious, weary trip to the wet room for cleaning up and medicationalisationing was called for. So I went!
I cleaned up and medicated the lower regions first. Then the areas, then the rear end. Then, the Phorpaining of both Cartilage Chloe and Carole’s cartilages moved onto knees. Olive-oiled the ears, applied, and Creosoted the Ankle Ulcer. I’ve named it Creosoted because it reminds me of it when I painted it on. Haha! Then, I decided to get the showering and shaving done. I had to get a long shirt and fresh dressing gown sorted first. I’d run out of clean shirts! These can’t be washed in a machine, or is it dried in one? Anyway, I had one unopened new one, so I used that. This, of course, got me all confused. I ended up washing another shirt in the sink. Hanging it up to dry over the sink… but the shirt was too long. I went into Sherlockian Mode to work out what I could do? Finally, deciding to hang it on the shower rail with a bowl underneath to catch the water. I very nearly adopted a . I went back to the wet room and hung them up. Of course, now I couldn’t get in the shower. So I pressed on with having a shave. As I’d got the foam on, I dropped the can. I held onto the seek carefully as I bent to pick it back up – naturally, the foam was on the sink, and my hand slipped! . I hit the top of my head on the Porcelain. Carried on with the shaving and noticed a trickle of blood coming from the top of my head in the mirror. As I went to grab the aftershave, I knocked the long shirt off of the rail… it fell into the water below… I swore rather vociferously, as I recall. I retrieved the shirt and rehung it, all freshly rewetted. Huh! The blood had by now left a pretty pattern down the side of my head, over my chin, and onto my man breasts & chest. I used paper towels to clean it. Using a lot of aftershave to stem the flow. Back to finishing the shaving… The shaving was completed within a minute or two. By this time, a similar pretty pattern of the leaking blood had reappeared.
Off to the medical chest to get a plaster cleaned after shaving the tiny little wound and applying a plaster. Then I wrote on the memory pad, which enabled me to write this rubbish in detail later. I had to sort out the mess in the kitchen from earlier, the wet room, and the shirts. What did I do? I decided the most crucial task was to make a brew of tea, which I did! However, I didn’t get to drink it. Carer Chloe arrived at 08:50 hrs on her first visit.
She pointed out that I had blood running from my head—haha! She wiped it and put a plaster on it while I bore her with tales of my calamities of the day. She then issued the medications and put on the diabetic socks. She also took the laundry with her, including two long shirts. That was kind of her. She was due back later on a domestic call.
As she departed, the innards informed me of my urgency to get to the Porcelain Throne post haste! So I hastened! This evacuation was the messiest ever! Well, not counting the involuntary one when I had the stroke, of course). Gooey in the extreme! An entire toilet roll standard! Stinky! .
I’m no longer as confident of events as I was earlier. Things got foggier when Carer Chloe returned. She’d kindly returned the washing all done apart from the long-shirts. They could not be used in a hot drier, and the ones in the laundry room do not have that facility. So, she hung them back up on the shower rails again. All that help is back at square one. Hehe! How can people talk about being bored in old age? If, as I have, one becomes accustomed to Accifauxpas, Whoopdiedangleplops & evil luck, it certainly avoids any chance of boredom setting in. Just a point, but I’d rather like time to get some being bored in! Not too much! I just want to see what it is all about. Of course, I have the benefits of Cogniscent Impairment Iris, FND, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, & Seizure Sandra’s attentions. Is having all four of these ailments probably better than having just one? I’m not confident or sure of how I worked that out now. But it seemed apparent & logical to me at the time.
Chloe checked on the dates of the food. I asked her to take some short-dated items for others to use. She washed the main kitchen windows for me and quickly wiped the floor.
Tomorrow, I think, is a finance visit. Maryham, I guess.
Carer Sam called. We had a precious laugh.
Pressed on with the blog. But such a late start. I’m miles behind with things yet.
It’s now mid-afternoon. Not a single seizure from Sandra has not reported a single seizure. However, I’m sure the mini-ones have been missed in the past.
17:20hrs: Carer Rachel did the teatime call.
I gave up on this blog and went on WP Reader & Comments.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Perhaps it’s time I was adulterised? I won’t qualify for being apostolised, Too late for me to be activised or adrenalised, I’m considering being re-alcoholised… I’m no academist, a failed accordionist, A mistake-maker? I’m the most awesome! I’m not a Blairist or a Bonapartist, My thoughts on Starmer are by bloodthirstiest, As PMs go, he is undoubtedly he’s the brutalist, Farmers & pensioners are his biggest bigotries, I wish him cancer, pain and blepharitis,
While I’m at it, add brainsickness…
I have/had each of these ailments & sickness,
His stealing of my fuel allowance made me stressed,
My hatred can no longer be suppressed,
I’m a sceptisist, while he is a lying Satanist,
To Labours’ lost Cor-Values, he is a sacrilegist!
If he’d be kind enough to die. He’d be so unmissed!
He’d expect more backhanders in heaven’s mists…
Where dead pensioners & farmers resist…
Welcoming him with headbutts & fists!
But my guilt will not be vanquished!
Or should that be unvanquished? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 07:10 hrs: I stirred, woken by a grinding chesty cough, Dizzy Dennis, with Twtiching-Neck-Nigel trying his best to detach himself from my torso. Realising the time indicated that I’d slept the longest night for over many weeks, 8 hours! The phlegm-clearing continued for a few minutes longer. Then I remembered that the Ocado order was due between 07:00-0800hrs; & I worried in case it had already been and I didn’t hear the intercom. I took off the nocturnal catheter pouch, a 7 on the graph, and as doing so, the door chime rang out. At first, I thought it must be the delivery, but Carer Richard came in. I was coughing away, so I took a swig of the cough linctus. Gawd, it tastes so foul! Eurgh! Richard looked slightly tired at the end of his first shift back at work (naturally). He checked the medications and recorded the shortages, which were issued today. The last of the Anne Gyna Painkillers was taken. It will be a painful wait until the lad orders them from the doctor. She electronically orders replacements from the chemist, and his average delivery time has been three days up till now. So, a possible four days ahead without any help getting any ease Anne Gyna. I turned on the computer to check the time of the Ocado order, and it arrived as I was doing so. I put the things away and took a can of Mighty Malt that someone told me to try to perk things up a little. I drank it while typing this. Then, I tried to sort out yesterday’s colossal error in making the templates and storing them out of order. What a Plonker!
COMPUTER CALAMITY! There I was, doing well with the blog updates. Suddenly, the cursor went blue, and I could not type anything else in the blog, ode or word list. After pressing the Esc button, I got a new email browser. I closed it in the same pickle as the other one. I tried various combinations of Ctrl Win & Alt buttons. All to no avail. I closed the computer, saved what it would allow me to, and selected “Restart Windows.”
At 11:40 a.m., Carer Chloe arrived. A new full-sized Blue Screen came up. Options offered; 1) Open in Windows 10 browser. 2) Close this computer 3) Contact the MS engineer assistant line and another one 4) that was so technical it had me beaten. Chloe wanted me to press Number One. But I had set up Google as my browser. After getting myself even more confused, I closed the computer. Waited a few minutes & restarted again.
I was baffled but pleased to say that it was working!
RETURN I’d been half-hoping she may have gone on vacation for a nice break. But, No! Silly me!
Carer Promise did the last two calls for me. Medications were given & diabetic socks were taken off. On the last call, he remembered he’d forgotten the prescription Medications. He nipped down and fetched them. Then, attach the nocturnal catheter bag. Thus, he saved me a lot of agonies when the Anne Gyna meds ran out. Carer Richard’s planning and Precious saved the say again.
Anne Gyna did her best to get at me again, but taking two of the tablets must have disappointed her aims.
Ranolazine & Beta-blockers at the ready!
A night of broken sleep patterns again, but I soon nodded off again each time that and/or woke me up. Yes, DD is back!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I could never do a headstand, I’ve never had a house husband, I did once get stuck in the heathlands, Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, I found a hairband on my hatstand?
I was confused, not worried, I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid, Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed, No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid? More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…
The computer was acting like an invalid, So many problems I was fumid, I’m giving up now; it makes me sick. There must be someone who can help me a bit… I’ve got no teeth left to grit,
On my second night without sleep or rest, Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist, Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.
The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous, The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us… Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding, I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.
The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, The sore throat hurt so much when coughing, It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!
After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous, This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.
I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼
I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired? This bug is a bugger!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Last night, I spent coughing very chestily, And kept sneezing cacophonously, Passing wind virtually continuously…
From Reflux Roger and my bottie,
Freezingly and shiveringly, My tears ran down into my mouth; rather salty, Little Inchie’s fungal lesion bled capriciously… Sleep? Well, that was an impossibility, I was dealing with these new ailments intolerantly,
But Thought Storming Steve gave no claptrappery, I gave up trying to do things somnambulatory,
And escaped the bed to the lavatory, Trotsky Terence came prematurely… This was most shamefully embarrassingly! Then, the job of doing the cleaning, More problems when I started computing… Gmail graphics on it, refusing! I took Codeine and an Adrenocorticotrophin, Got my mask on, and Carer Chloe came in, As she sorted the medicationing… The food delivery was arriving… The driver took the bags through to my kitchen,
I forgot to ask Chloe to put my socks on…
Today, there was many an omission,
Chloe left, and I sank into a state of curmudgeon,
As I fought back the incoming depression,
Second Throne visit – even more humiliating,
What am I dreaming of, imagining, indicating?
Diabetic Dementia, mind juggling…
Yet this cold seemed more worrying & bothering?
Enough of my self-tormenting, witwantoning,
I going to get this Ode done, then my bed I will jump in,
Carer Sam called, and I was moaning…
My self-pity vessel was filling,
Life is not very fulfilling…
I’ll battle on, but I’m not genuinely willing,
My bad luck seems unrelenting,
Onto the bed, I’ll soon be settling,
Will I be able to manage to get some sleeping?
If owt happens, that’s worthy of writing,
Anything worth reporting…
No camera for photographing…
Where am I going?
What am I doing?
What will ensue for me?
Maybe a summat will happen. That’s thrilling…
Enchanting, stirring, exhilarating?
Huh, blood from the teeth & gums are flowing!
Onto the bed, in search of Sweet Morpheus,
Oh, I’m expecting the nurse…
Hristina, a lovely, kind gal, an Aquarius
I love to see her and her apparatus! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sleep didn’t come, but apprehensiveness did,
The next few hours were fetid, which made me livid,
Getting no sleep, but I felt almost intrepid…
The following events didn’t make me stolid, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Here are the reasons why I hadn’t slept, An alarm went & stopped, Then there rang out a fire alarm, I panicked An alarm went beep-beep-beep-bleep & stopped, I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped, The landline rang, someone had phoned… I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Again, the landline rang; too late, the ringing stopped, An alarm went beep-beep-beep and stopped,
I couldn’t work out what it was, but hoped, After five hours a minute’s sleep, I was gifted,
Then the alarm went beep-beep-beep & stopped,
Carer Chris came in, into the drinks selection he dived,
Then, a drink was chosen & correlated,
Again, the landline rang; someone had phoned…
I got to it too late; the ringing stopped,
Then Cartilage Carol once again crumpled,
But a complete fall was deflected…
The leg was medicated & elastoplasted,
An alarm going beep-beep-beep was emitted, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Carer Chris had forgot to bring the camera,
But he took a shot of the meal & bilgewater! And the hospital bed, & controller, On his phone, saved these to his SND recorder,
Said he’s off work for 72 hours,
Wants to be with his wife, who is now pregnanter, Carer Richard & Joanne off, both much poorlier, I know how they feel with acute coryza, Head cold, grinding-coughing, known as Flu-R, It is unpleasant and a right miserable bugger! I tried to get some sleep, but it was deactivated… But my plans were again ascerbated…
Don’t come to hospital, sufferers are told…
The hospitals are so busy, shemozzled,
My plans, ideas, & hopes have been sphacelated,
Flu-R is so bad that I’m dumbfounded,
If I stood up, moved or even quetched,
Ailments these last two days have quintuplicated! I feel my designs have been mancipated,
My thoughts could do with being manumitted,
shame, embarrassment, teeth always gritted!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, I felt as if I was apprenticing…
Coping with this new bug or flu and learning,
I rang 111 to ask what I could be taking?
To counter the constant sneezing?
My heavy breathing and wheezing?
My impossibility to get any sleep in?
Can I take an alcoholic drinkie?
To counter the phlegm & blubbering?
NHS 111 said don’t take Aspirin…
Cause you’re on Finasteride & Warfarin,
Well, that was not very informing!
Then they added I’m not to go to hospital…
Doreen Dementia understood it was elemental, I considered bringing up my mental problems.
The line went dead; it was pretty comical! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Figures show urgent and emergency services, with 98,118 ambulances handed over to hospitals last week and 495,442 calls received by NHS 111. No wonder they are struggling to cope with the stampede!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m fed up with this bug! Tsk!
– – – Sunday 15:00hrs – – – On Saturday, I got as far as doing the Ode header below and kicked off. They came thicker and faster than they ever have before. I could concentrate on nothing, and time lost all meaning. Made worse when joined in, and the rest of the day was lost in more than one way.
I believe I must have had a mammoth seizure in the afternoon. Why? I’ll tell you, well, I’ll try.
I returned to semi-reality and found that the list of words I was to use to use, with hundreds of words on it, had disappeared from the computer. I searched all the Notepad files. Then, I searched everywhere else, thinking I may have saved the update to the wrong folder or file. I stopped to send off the Friday Blog. Then, I decided I’d start a new word list for the rhymes. I spent five hours selecting and saving the words to Notepad or Notes now; I think it may be called.
I got into the hospital bed, then after an hour or so, got up again and went back onto the computer to add to the list. Stooped and got the ablutions & medicationings done.
I worked through it until Carer Shaquille arrived. Then, at about 08:15hrs, I went back to them.
I stopped when Carer Maryham arrived. I told her about my all-night marathon and showed her I’d lost the word list. I found on WordPress that I’d also lost the template for Sunday!
So, I wrote this script to explain the situation.
I will ask a Carer on Monday to phone the Doctor. I can’t go on like this. Anne Gyna, Siezures Sandra, camera kaputt. I burnt my hand on Saturday on the new oven, and the pain from Catheter Cathy’s contraption tube is so bad that I’ve taken off the protective pants I put on this morning. And it’s so cold today, but I’d sooner have the cold than extra pain. I think.
I’m going to continue making the word list. I will carefully click on ‘save’ regularly. If I feel a seizure coming on, which I sometimes do, I’ll try to stop working immediately.
Then, time permitting, I’ll finish the Government Ode and post this off. It could be near midnight, but I may have problems staying awake to do it. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
They’re all blended now, a political purple… Labavatives & Conserabours, both in trouble Their Differences were once clearly distinguishable. : : : : : : : : : : : : : :
Their ideals previously unalterable, Now, they seem to be easily adsorbable, Shared, swapped, most adaptable, Labour defended the most susceptible, Which I found to be accreditable, Keirs stealing from the pensionable, Naturally, I felt it was cruel and abominable…
Apprehensible, it should make him arrestable!
Pensioners & farmers, easily fleeceable,
More a Conservative than any Tory, incredible!
As PM, he is no longer creditable,
Taking backhanders, lying; it’s incomprehensible!
He might have a title, but he’s not Honourable,
Labour’s honest values are gone, irretrievable,
Starmer’s actions are unbelievable!
Bent HMG rules mean he’s not convictable,
He’s blind despite his freebies apposable,
To the damage he’s done as our apical.
Ruling his timocracy like a cockwomble,
His lies & fiddles are shown to be confutable,
I hope he’s visited by someone paradisiacal!
Old Father Time, or ran over by a Tournapull, I’m sorry for being misanthropical, I find Keir incomprehensible and enigmatical! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not feeling too good now. But so glad I got the ode done. It is not one of my best; it was written with a bit of angst at my stupidity of losing all the work and being unable to calm Ane Gyna down. Huh! I just wrote this, and she’s slowed down, and each stab of pain seems to be less bothersome than the previous one… at long last. I wish for this and hope.
Sunday night now, and I will get a meal of some sort and do my best to get some much-needed sleep.
I was sitting watching the TV… well, I was initially, but within ten minutes, I was in the land of nod. Carer Carer surprisingly made the last call. I was a bit out of it, mentally. It was so lovely to see her again, but what was said was a jumbled mixture of odd bits that I could remember. I struggled to gear back to the bliss of sleep. No , but I recognised that my own thoughts were about why the gal had to do extra shifts. I presume that Carer Richard is not in a good situation with his diabetic problems and may have knocked off work. If so, he will be suffering at home. He’s been struggling himself lately. I hope he is okay. Also, I hope Carer Joanne is getting better; she was not very well on her last visit the other day. Many people have this cold-weather bug to contend with; Joanne has catheter problems, & her coughing and wheezing concern me. But I was still glad to see Kara again.
Eventually, I got up and made a meal of sorts, fish balls, onions and Milk Roll sliced bread with a BBQ tomato sauce dip. I found approximately 4 empty bags of onion rings, and a Marmite crisps in the wastebasket.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – REMEMBERING Do You… Remember the comfort & luxury of home life as a nipper? The Kodak Brownie box camera? The black & white photo booths all over? Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa? Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower? Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder? Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular? Or even more appealing was Rita, who was far more cuddlier,
I desired her so (sob) but never got a date with her! Remember the 1955 number-one hit. ‘Let me go, lover’? Sang by sexpot Teresa Brewer? She wisely didn’t answer my letter! Recall the Ration Book, weekly; bacon and ham 4oz; 4oz of butter, loose tea 4oz; sugar 8oz; meat one shilling-worth; cheese 1oz; preserves 8oz a month! Then biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk, canned and dried fruit joined the list. Babies, pregnant women and the sick were allocated additional food items such as milk, orange juice and cod liver oil. Domestic coal was rationed to 15 hundredweight yearly in London and 20 hundredweight for those in the north. Clothing was rationed using a point system. This allowed for approximately one new outfit per year but was reduced steadily until buying a coat used up almost a year’s supply of clothing points. Clothing became utilitarian: pleats and turn-ups disappeared from trousers, and garments were plain. Women painted gravy browning on bare legs to replace silk stockings and painted black lines at the back to simulate the seams! Food rationing worsened after the war due to the country’s badly damaged economy. Bread rationing began for the first time in late 1946; the bacon ration halved in October, and potatoes were rationed in November. The Standing Committee on Medical and Nutritional Problems was concerned about those who had to live on their rations and lacked access to canteen or restaurant meals. The Ministry of Health decided to help with assistance with shopping, cooking and providing meals on wheels. Rationing ceased in May 1954,
During & after the war, Spivs, black-marketeers Galore,
Nottingham prosecuted 2,400, elsewhere more! Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir? The coal house, the yard gate, and more? The wooden lid? Bum splinters that were sore? The discomfort of a freezing winter? No toilet paper, but cut-up newspaper? The cistern would freeze after December? Lighting a candle or lamp, you had to remember! No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser. Unaffordable for the Inchy geezer. The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer? Boiling water on the stove and on the coal fire? Getting mine last was a bit of a harrumpher… Cleaning out the other’s dirt, scurf & seborrhea! DC electric shocks, with a ‘let-go” threshold high? Compared to AC, is it likely to knock you over or fly? But more people getting AC shocks die. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t keep much of a diary today. I spent so long trying to find pictures for my Memory Ode, but I didn’t have a camera this morning, so I had to use something from the file or web.
I returned to this facsimile of life at 05:15hrs. Got the scrub-up and shaving done. Then ablutions & medicationings were completed. Trotsky Terence Porcelain’s visit was made without any premature evacuational movements. Phew!
I started the ode, and seven hours later, I finished it. (I’m not joking; my concentration was all over the place.) However, the ailment has been fair to me up to now. I’m not able to say that very often! Although the struggle with getting the right pictures from the web and files may have been part of the problem, it seems to have appeased some of my ailments?
During the Ode workings, Carer Chris visited me, and then Carer Joanne visited again. We had a little natter and a laugh about our current problems.
Between this activity, I put one large potato in the slow cooker. I walked into the wet room door, another should-charge job; was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off and , but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having! As for the past 4 or 5 days, is still on form. I forgot to ring the Doctor about asking for some under-tongue dissolving medication, but it’s too late in the day now, and of course, with the weekend coming, I can’t do anything about it. Not until Monday, when most likely the only thing I’ll do is forget to make the call again. Huh! Nowadays,life continues like this; Never-ending returning circles, tangents and variations of failures, errors, forgetfulness, mysterious episodes of utter confusion (unrecognised seizures possibly?), with rare but precious dabblets of contentment, verging on happiness. The feared visits of unreasonable sadness, self-anger, & self-disgust, almost a loathing sometimes. But not yet today. This may be why I just flooded out my feelings. Is it as if I’ve only just realised what is going on?
Yet help & solutions are elusive.
Even talking to myself (I do an awful lot of that), my queries, questions and even my own answers or decisions I know are evasive, not logical or practical. Conceivably inenarrable. Confidentless and doomed not to be done and to fail even if they are attempted. Taking all the things I’ve just written & read above, I now see with clarity one word that I’d missed. Bonkersness! What a load of talking nineteen to the dozen, prattling, gabbling twaddle! I’ve lost it! Hehehe! If anyone can understand it, please let me know.
I’m going to check on the potatoes now…
No, not ready yet. I hope the Carer doesn’t call while I’m eating. The spuds will get cold, and the potato skin will go hard and hurt my teggies. Hehe!
Well, the potato skins went hard and hurt my teggies. Not considering the pain from the gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted. I settled with the TV on, and at my first bite of a pickled mushroom, Carer Chris arrived—not that it spoiled the meal in any way. I cooked the lad a chicken pattie in the microwave; it only took two minutes, and he scoffed it down with a drink of lemonade. Well, he was tired and hungry. Hehe! Help with the camera loan was much appreciated. The poorly-poo Kodak will be examined on his days off. Fingers Crossed!
Sleep came so quickly. But thanks to the occasional jerking from , I seemed to be shooting awake every few minutes – it probably wasn’t that often, but it felt like it was in the morning. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hasta la vista!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART TWO¾ – – The body & brain are even more concerning… This morning, my bladder was most debasing, Trotsky Terence spurted out a premature soiling… How demeaning, embarrassing & shaming! I got pain as I start the cleaning when bending, As the catheter tube was pulling… Inchies Fungal lesion started bleeding… Aged toileting can be degrading, & demeaning,
Demoralising, undignifying, most humiliating,
Why do I have to suffer all this enfeebling?
My body and minds corruption & discerping,
That I feel I am not deserving…
All ailments are now worsening,
With new ones regularly joining,
These can be a smidgeon daunting,
My regular pains are still disobliging,
The news ones are often surprising,
Cancer enforced my catheterisationing,
FND & PN were late arriving,
Dementia soon had me mentally derping, I was told my nerve-ends were dying, Unlike Starmer, she was not lying, I couldn’t believe it, so I didn’t start crying, Diabetic dementia my brain she is occupying, PN prompted leg shocks, they’re electrifying, Arthur Itis, Both cartilages worsening, Sometimes I think, should I sob or sing! In 2015, I was put on the list for operating… 2019, at the QMC to have my cataract lasering,
Glaucoma is to be done after my recovering,
2025, Of course, I’m still patiently waiting,
My hearing aids both broke; that was annoying,
My teeth are crumbling, painful, very peeving,
New spectacles, unlike Starmer, I was paying,
He stole my Winter Fuel cash; he needs replacing!
They put me on amoxicillin, and penicillin, My concentration is fading, flagging, weakening, My haemorrhoids need regular edulcorating,
I use Corticosteroids on my Fungal Lesion Bleeding,
Duodenal Ulcer Donald, pain-killer needing,
Do yer know what I find most unnerving?
Is Starmer, the vilifying, wiseling, & nithing. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:20hrs: I bounded out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, singing gaily full of joy and contentment, and laughingly detached the nocturnal bag from the catheter day bag. Well, I woke up and took the catheter night bag off. Having the camera until noon, I took a shot of the urine. Not a lot of people can say that. Hehehe! Then, I took morning shots of the moon in view, way too high in the dark sky. I’ll put them on later with all the sky shots I took. This is to let you see the changes that took place in each view. I got all the waste bag contents into one and placed it near the door. Then, the first summoning to the Throne of the day arrived. I knew it was an urgent call when the action voluntarily started from the rear end before I reached the wet room door! I got in, dropped the walking stick, scrambled to get the dressing gown off, and lifted the nightshirt safely out of the already proceeding evacuation product. I was not quick enough!
The following long-winded clean-up of me, the bowl, the mat, and the floor used a lot of disinfectant and air spray! I washed the dressing gown and nightshirt and put on fresh ones. Getting old is not for wimps, Haha!
I made a brew of Glengettie and adjusted my old-fashioned flip-card calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived, and he looked so tired. Bless him. I told him of the prescriptions that had arrived last night, and he checked them out in the kitchen medical drawer. Richard issued me the medications, but I forgot to ask him to fit my socks. I think that may have been on purpose. He was struggling to get around. He was wearing both of his leg-jointed supports today. I tried to cheer him up with a funny tale or two.
I started for serious on the blog catch-up and soon had Wednesday’s blog nearly finished. But I got carried away with saving the photos early before the Canon was picked up to go home. And somehow, I thought I’d posted the blog off? I carried on with this one for hours until it dawned on me. Then, I completed Wednesday’s and posted it.
Here are the kitchen shots taken with approximate times. Then, you can glean the changing weather conditions.
First Two. I think it would have been around 0600hrs. But I’m not sure of that. There’s a growing number of things that I’m not sure or uncertain of nowadays.
About 08:00hrs.
About 09:00hrs.
Around 11:00hrs. I got back to blogging, got carried away making the Ode of the day (I was struggling like never before?) and forgot to take another shot when the weather changed. It was misty in the distance, but the cold sun was blaring.
The camera was collected, and I thanked him much and gave him some nibbles and a bottle of something of his choice for allowing me to use his… I said Canon earlier, but it may have been a Panasonic. Still, the best bit was that I didn’t drop it, and it didn’t commit suicide while with me. So many have!
After Vic left, I made an order with Iceland for next Tuesday. Mid-way through, what arrived, but Porcelain Throne Warning Number 2. Off to the wet room with some urgency, I trundled. It was a surprisingly close call this time. But no need for any shamefacedness. And the cleaning up was easy!
Carer Sam called, and I asked her if she wouldn’t mind asking the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie if the banking details were in hand; from when they sorted out my banking details for me yet. This is the third carer I’ve asked. If Sam sees them, she will let me know the result.
I was still only as far as I could go and in the process of creating today’s Ode of the Day for this blog!
I put some potatoes in the mini oven and completed the ode. I hope it was worth all the trouble and effort. Hopefully, some editor will like it and give me a column in their publication. I hope it’s not the Police Gazette. Hahaha!
Shame I can’t photograph the meal. I’ll check on the spuds, and if ready, I’ll make the cheesy potatoes. Back in a bit… Well, the spuds were all cooked in a short time. I halved them, put some no-butter-butter and black pepper on them, and added the garden peas.
Washed the meal things, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, scruffy, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings. Bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working, I recliner to watch an episode of my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ on ITV3. The Carer arrived as it was starting. We left the socks on, as it was so cold. I can have a stand-up wash, shave and medicationing session in the morning. If I get up in time, before the Carer comes, hopefully, he/she can change the diabetic socks for me.
