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I resettled in the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, itch-producing, none-working recliner.

I woke up nearly five hours later, much refreshed at 01:40hrs. The smell from the abandoned meal I left in the kitchen permeated sickeningly throughout the flat. This forced me from the recliner to bag it up several times and into a final waste bag. A twinge of guilt at the state of the surrounding kitchen encouraged me clean things a little. (Not a lot, mind you!)

After my almost ten-minute marathon cleaning-up session, I took these photos of the early-morning view.
While taking them, just once, I saw the planet Jupiter. But the clouds covered it before I got the Lumix out.

I made a brew of Thompson’s Signature tea. Then took it with me back to the computer and got her booted up. Got the photos from yesterday loaded and doctored on CorelDraw to try and make them clearer… at which I failed. (I know it must be hard for you to believe that I failed at anything) Hehehe!
Well, I thought that the Blood Pressure figures would be enough to put me down towards the amber zone.

But, No! The NHS Analyser put me in the Hypertension +1 Red yet again.

Still. come thinking about it: The SIA at 155 was, I thought to be, pretty decent compared to the previous few day’s numbers.

The DIA at 92 let me down with being so high, I suppose.

The Pulse was a little higher and more close to the target.

As for the Body Temperature, that was even closer to the target figure of 35°f than it’s been for weeks. Good, I think. Not sure what this indicates, though.
Got the Thursday blog finished and posted off to WordPress.

Off to the wet room. Trotsky Terence fought back a bit this morning. Constipation Conrad has been mastering things for the last week or so.
The foul odour that accompanied the evacuated product was a cut above normal. The Karki-coloured plum-sized turds disintegrated on contact with the water? The main things were; There was no pain, only a smidge of bleeding, and as mentioned, one Helluva-putrid-pong!

I’d put the kettle on, and I was washing the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee Bucket) after taking several PSSU (Persistent, Short, Sharp, Uncomfortable) mode wee-wees. And cause I was in the kitchen, I did not hear the tune that rang, and I got a jump when she came into the kitchen and greeted me. Hahaha!
I asked if Jodie would be kind enough to help me get my socks and fasten the Velcro on the shoes, as I am out this morning at the Riverside Diabetic clinic in Bulwell. She consented. She was yawning away like a good un! Bless her! Jodie did the medications, and we chatted… well, I did; it helped keep her awake as she was on her last legs, methinks.
Medications sorted, she kindly got the socks on my feet for me.

Then it dawned on me she could not do the Velcro, as I was still in my jammie bottoms! So, I nipped to the wet room and got new PPs on, then changed into my trews and back to the recliner, where Jodie fastened the Velcro on the shoes.
I joked about my being more trouble than the ten-year-old. But in the back of my mind, there was embarrassment lurking! Thanked her in the usual fashion, and she was off, back to her bed and, hopefully, some much-needed sleep.

The new DVT Anticoagulant Therapy Record was found by accident. It had fallen underneath the Carers table.

Got some updating done on the computer on this blog, then the getting together all the things needed for today’s trip.
The took a grip as I was readied to go. So many checks and rechecks were carried out, keeping an eye on the time. I did not want to miss the EasyLink minibus again.
This photo on the left, I took earlier and forgot to put it on the blog. It is of the Carer’s table.
I was so glad to avoid a painfully vicious and bruised bloody battle with .
All thanks to helping me with the socks, as well as the Velcro manipulating.

I’ll have to tell you now; to get the embarrassing bit out of the way. I’d made a memory list last night of the things needed for the Riverside visit. Got the things prepared and in pockets or the trolley (I thought).

❶ The driver would not take a tenner and give me £2 change; the money had to be spot-on. So he took all my change again, all the eight-pound coins I had to pay for the lift. This did get to me! All that hassled and Esther getting change for me, and it’s gone in one go! (Fed-Up Grade A style!)

❷ When I got to Bulwell, I found that there was no session today. So, it seems that had to got me again! I was wee’d of with myself, but not as much as usual. (Fed-Up Grade B style!) I decided to just go into Bulwell for a hobble around, feed the duck=ks and birds and inevitably, do some shopping. So, I did!

❸ I lightened up a little when I saw the Mallards were nearby. Got the bird food from the trolley and launched some feed towards the ducks… then went to get the camera from my pocket… which was not in the pocket! Searched the other pockets and in the trolley… No! I’d left it in the flat! Self-hatred and disgust flowed!

❹ Now I could be in bigger trouble. The reminder for the cash card number was in the camera! I wanted to get some treats for the nurses and carers and have a shop in Wilko. The last time when I used my card in Bulwell, the bank would not accept the pinless transactions, and if this happens again, I’m in a pickle cause I can’t remember the number. Fingers crossed!

I fed the birds. I’d have loved to try photographing them, they were all around my feet, and I would have had a good chance of taking some great shots; had I not forgotten to take the Lumix with me! Grrr!
No doubt about it, is giving me bother today!

Visited the Wilko store. I did get some stuff today for a change. Two bottles of the Y-Lang fabric freshener, a roll of sellotape (Needed to stick up reminder notes and medication changes). A bottle of Y-Lang-scented laundry wash.
Having never used this Wilko store before, I just went to the first set of check-outs and lined the queue. I didn’t realise it was a Card-Only and Self-Service setup! I did feel like a demented fool waiting for someone to serve me! Then I realised that I am demented!
A kind lady assistant came to me cause I imagine I may have looked like a lost old soul, and explained things to me. Things got worse, me-in-muddle-wise!
She helped me put them through, and she went back to her post. When I was putting the things in the bag, I realised I had not paid for the sellotape! She must have been watching me and come to my rescue again! I had to swipe the tape through and pay with the card, which I didn’t think it would allow, not for… I can’t remember the exact price, but it was around 50p, I think. Tsk!
Out I went and visited the Vegan store to see if they had any of the imitation belly pork slices I got last week, and I liked the taste. They had two kinds today. Last week I bought four, for just over £2. I asked for two of each this time… expecting a similar charge… £8.20!!! I realised after I’d left that this took all of my remaining money to pay for it. Good job I paid for both ways on the EasyLink bus, or I would have had t walk the four-miles home!
I dropped into the Pound Land shop on the way back to the collection point for the bus. Saw they had some Walnuts and almonds in small packets, so got some of them, also a small bag of seeds to feed the birds en route to the Riverside Complex. I really wish I had paid more attention to the price stickers when I selected these nuts. For when I got to the checkout, the girl said, “That’ll be eight pounds ninety-six, please!” WHAT? I dared not use the card, and the people behind in the queue were getting agitated with waiting! The girl called someone to keep an eye on me, fearing I may do a runner? And pointed to a cash machine where I could get some money. Could I remember my card pin, though?
I went to the machine; I’d never seen such a small one like it before. I asked the lady when she’d finished using it, apologising first for bothering her, which way the card goes in. She stayed with me, bless her, and went through it with me. When it came to putting in the number… believe it or not, a four-digit number came into my mind from somewhere in the ether. A flash prayer, and I put it in, and it worked! The mini-machine only allowed £40 to be withdrawn. I thanked the lady customer so much for helping me and whatever entity it was that gave me the number needed! Can I remember it now? Nope!
I hobbled half the length of the store to join the check-out queue again, so I could pay for the overpriced nuts!

Arrived at the checkout, paid up belatedly and out to feed the ducks again. While chatting with the mallards and pigeons fighting for their share of the seeds, I thought I would be able to have a go at the crossword puzzle book while waiting for the list in the Riverside… I hadn’t taken a pen with me! I had a search around all my pockets and the trolley, nope, no pen!
I hobbled back to Bulwell Market and bought a pack of pens. Returned to the car park entrance at Riverside, got sat down, and enjoyed a long session on the crosswording. (Not that I was not very successful, mind you!)
The minibus arrived spot on time. We took a convoluted route (Roadworks) back to the flats, but at least it didn’t cost any extra this time.
Back at the flats, I asked the driver if he could ask his office to ring Deana about arranging payment by a debit system for me, telling him of the difficulties in getting the right money every time I use the . I didn’t hear his answer. Gave him a choice of drinkies from the trolley bag, in thanks, and struggled up with three bags hanging onto the three-wheeled walker trolley, to the flat.

Hunger being a new desire, I got whatever they were supposed to be vegan slices in the oven. Then wondered if I’d locked the door instead of leaving it open for the carer coming. I went to check…
And found a letter marked ‘Private’ and ‘Urgent’. I’ll open it after having the meal. Which has to be given tags, and this they are: &!
The chops looked like real meat, and smelt it cooking?
I got some BBQ beans heating up.

I got the meal served up on the tray, added a large bap and pot of the short-dated orange yoghourt that Carer Richard found in the fridge and went through the routine; it took a while.
It tasted alright, indeed nice. However, as I was tucking into it, something hard crunched against the already damaged and broken back double molar, and it joined the beans in my mouth! With horrible crude black segments inside of the tooth. It left jagged bits still in the upper gum, sharp and nasty tasting when the tongue ran over it. Next time I go to Bulwell, I shall inform the sellers! The orange yoghourt tasted a little sour to me, but it was on its last sell-by day. So, I’ll throw the other ones away.

I spat out the chomped-chop and checked on the contents before continuing to eat; there was something hard that broke the tooth. But not as I assumed, a bone, more like a chunk of plastic, I thought? When I find it… if I find it, I’ll take it with me to the store. When I was examining it, looking at it with the spy-glass, the at just the wrongs time, it shot out of hand. I think I heard it ping as hit something or other and disappeared into the ether? Carer Richard is good at finding things; if I don’t come across it, I’ll ask Richard to have s look for it for me on Monday. I’ll likely find it by treading on it with my bare feet as I walk around.

The chops were tasty enough, just potentially lethal. Hehehe! Very carefully, I ate the nearly cold remainder with the beans. Not counting the bloodied mouth, loss of the tooth, and pain it caused, I still gave this meal a flavour rating of 7.2/10! On taste only. Not the taste of the rotting tooth, you understand? Hehehe! That was terrible!

I got the pots washed, and the tooth saved. Had a quick search for the plastic that was in the food (If it was plastic), and then bravely opened the ‘Private letter’. No luck, of course. The letter was from the QMC (Queens Medical Centre) regarding my Cataract operation… with a confirmation of an appointment to have it done! The date is on Wednesday, 9th November 2022, at 09:30hrs!
On my first reading of the letter, I fear that between my , , Arithmophobia, , , , , with the help of Glaucoma Gladys, brought on stabbing pains from , thus, severe mode, was automatical engaged. – Not a lot is more disturbing than going into a Panic-Mode. You can’t do anything about it, can’t get to grips with sorting it out, and fear and frustration flourish! With Duodenal Donald and Anne Gyna both giving you discomfort, it was a waste of time trying to make sense of the eight pages of instructions that lay in front of me. But of course, I tried. I had to, but knew I should have left it until later when help was available!
These things never fail to arrive at the weekend. When there are no ILCs on site. I have to stew, fret and panic until Monday. Then sometimes, I can’t get in touch with Deana. Fair enough, she is up to the neck and so busy looking after us all.

I loved it when I could do things for myself without bothering them at all. But Vascular Dementia Doreen’s arrival has put an end to that.
I wonder if it’s worth it, carrying on. It’ll only get worse. This thought then sank me down, and I loathe getting into a .

rang out. came in. He looked so tired; bless him. It must have been about 19:20hrs; it must have been his last call. He gave me the medications and listened to my sad pathetic tales of the day. That was good of him. The poor carers are the only people I can tell. I insisted he take his choice of plonk in thanks for his tired time. Reluctantly he took one. Such a nice lad is Jozeph. He took the waste bags with him on his way out.

and my depression combined to ensure that sleep was not an option for many hours, gone 02:00hrs. I got three hours in, though. Before bursting jumpingly awake at 05:00hrs, with a desperate need of the Porcelain Throne… but, did I make it in time? Dang, dang dang, danggg!