INCHIE TODAY: Wednesday 25th January 2023

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I got away with it; no harm done!

I’m hoping that a  supply of a new , or even a week’s supply, will arrive today. Single-use only the night catheters, the day ones for seven days, I think. But it’s 17:15 hours already. Maybe one or some has gone to the Meridian office and will be brought by a night carer to fit for me? My fingers are crossed on that!

A prayer to get the last week’s two bags of laundry done as well. A talk with Mr G about the possibility of getting the bleeding and pain stopped from . My fingers are crossed on that one as well!

The immediate concern is over my Kryptonite – Sleep!
Two hours was all I got last night – and no chance of catching up on it presented itself today. Dependent on whether or not I can get a or not is vital! If perchance, one doesn’t arrive (Albeit the chances are it will), I’m going to be in dire straits, up the creek without a paddle, up a gum tree, in the soup, harassed, a bag of nerves, and a very tired & frustrated old chap!

And to think, when I met the doctor yesterday to copy for the DNR option, she asked if I’d sooner die at home or in a hospital?
If she knew about the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me; she’d not have asked me in the first place. Hehehe!

Anyroad, another getting nothing done day here in Del Trotter Towers flats.
Fair enough, there was the usual bleeding, confusionalitis, frustrations and possibly an increase in moments of self-loathing. But I’m too tired to go into them at this moment. Here is the pathetic Inchie Today Diary.

Misty morning

Computer problems

No idea why I took these two?

Ah, fancy that…
The Famously Crap Internet is down…


Not weeing much?

20:20hrs now.
Tired.
I’ve put a meal in the heated oven.
Worried about getting a Hopefully, it will come.
And some really needed catch-up sleep.

Back later.
Likely in the morning.
Unless I have to stay awake…
Humph!

Late Morning Update

Carer Richard Arrived, unfortunately, without any of the bags, so another sleep-depriving night to get through. Still, as it happened, it worked out well tonight. (It was a jumping awake every few minutes session and each time I checked on the . I emptied it only three times.)

Carer Richard Got the medications sorted, and we had a little laugh and nattering session. Shame about the lack of a night bag, though. But it’s not Richard’s fault. He did his best. As I mentioned above, it worked out okay as it happens. I think the storage in the bladder caused the bleeding in the urine again. I reheated the meal and made it crusty line top. Mmm!

♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫

A Spiffing ready-made meal.
Potatoes, lardons, with BBQ sauces and some
Milk Roll bread. I dropped the flipping pot
of soya lemon yoghourt, and it landed in the
waste bin and burst open. I just covered it
with kitchen towels. Fell in the right place?

Got the dishes washed, and I took this picture of the
evening view. Not a good one, but still.

Keep Safe, Each!

Inchie Today – Thursday 12th January 2023

Deaf with Dementia?
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Jolly Good Morning. Although it didn’t last long… about an hour)
I felt the freedom of having the catheter was just a memory. And began to potter about the moment I woke up[ belatedly at 07:00hrs.
I merrily poddled to the Porcelain Throne and enjoyed the pleasure and simplicity of getting my pants down without all the rigmarole of struggling to get by the tubing, ties, straps and pouches attached to my right leg.
But the joy was soon dented.
For the smelly was in full command of the evacuation again.
Worra, gooey mess! Cleaning up took me ages!

Took some photos of the high-in-the-sky moon.


Then tried for a close-up.

Went to get a drink of water from the bottle in the front room.
Took this snap of the lovely family thought up, made and sent to me by HRH Lisa-Petal, in Cincinnati!
Thanks, Lisa, my precious one! ♥

Into the kitchen!

The window shelf had all the things moved to the left by my mate to make room for him to get around to setting up my new air fryer and showing me how it works. I’ve waited eight weeks, so, no rush. Hehehe!

I got the computer on, and ! Just when the Money-Manipulator Fries had managed to keep the LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet to work without it conking out… for two whole days (Well done, Fries by the way), this happened yet again!



After another elongated visit to the Throne – swiftly followed by visit number three (All messy!) Money Manipulating Genius Fries’ LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet came back on. Were you wondering why I wrote LIBERTY-GLOBAL in capitals? Well, that is because he has told all the UK call-centre staff never to mention LIBERTY-GLOBAL to any customers, in fact not to say the name at all. Now, this may be because he realises he does not know how to run an Internet-providing service?
LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media!
But why? When Fries obviously has plans to destroy the company, with his insistence on not providing a workable service, overcharging, and telling porkie-pies on his ridiculous fancy adverts full of hogwash?

LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media!
It could be I’m jealous of his phenomenal salary, guaranteed bonuses, and limitless expense account.
But I’d love to find out what his ulterior motive is for spending billion on purchasing Virgin Media and letting it rot? Plainly, just read TrustPilot reviews. 80% of complainers still think and blame Richard Branson fr the miserable service. Saying he is making money for his space trip etc. (Last year).Which, of course, Fries does nothing to counter.
It must have something to do fiscally-wise, this mystery activity with its smoke & mirrors managed antics from Fries. Possibly trying to give the impression (It’s mostly about impressions at Liberty-Global), compared to reality, I think.
A way of increasing Liberty-Global’s share in the Stock Markets in some way?
He’s a handsome, cunning, devious, scheming character, full of mystery and seld-preservation at the top end, financially.
I’m beginning to like him; the longer he gets away with conning his bosses at Liberty-Global, you know.
LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media!
So I thought I’d mention that Liberty-Global does own Virgin Media a few times.

Did I get carried away there? Hehehe!.

Kept guzzling water in hopes that the catheter would not be put back on.

Email from Morrison offering £15 off a £60 order yesterday. I thought I’d ordered it for next Thursday… it’s coming today.

Asda and then a Morrison order the next day.
I think I may have done this the other week?

Boxed them for me.

Cupboard bag

Fresh stuff

Full fridge, do you think?.

Tried to ring for me to find out about the account, but she was unable to get through to them.

TWO PRETTY YOUNG NURSES ARRIVED
To give a bladder scan to assess the problem

I fear it was a bit farcical. I got a smidge confused with two people talking, then arrived, and now I was in utter confusion. Tsk!
The nurses did a bladder scan, and the look on their faces told me that the catheter was going to have to be put back on.
They gave me every chance. Sent me to the WC with a pot and told me to wee-wee in it. Then did another bladder scan…
But it was not good; they told me how much urine was left in the bladder after I’d passed the urine, and it was dangerously half-full.
Then the painful but amusing fitting of the equipment began.
They could not believe I didn’t have a bed or settee to lay on while they fitted the tubing into the Little Inchie. This caused some consternation, and one of them phoned the Urology doctor for advice.
But they were pleasant enough throughout, and I had them laughing away at times. I got in the recliner, and they said tilt it back, please. When I told them it did not work, all three of the ladies looked amazed, but they tried to get it going… but it wouldn’t have it.
Then the inserting of the tube into Little Inchie was about to begin: I cracked mayhap my best joke of the visit…
Nurse: “Drop your pants down, please..”
Inchie: “Have you been trained in micro-surgery then?”

Nurse: “It’s not micro-surgery, Gerry…”

Inchie: “Yes, it is; you’ve not seen what you’re putting the tube into yet!”
Laughter rang around the room!

They had problems getting the thick tube into the miniature Little Inchie. But it went in, on the third try, using lots of the gel stuff.
Of course, I smiled pleasantly as the tube started its travels. Being the sturdy, strong young man that I am, I gritted my teeth like a man!
I laughed as the tube went in and through Little Inchy, the urethra, the prostrate and then into the urine-filled bladder. I was nattering away to help them keep calm! They looked rather nervous and kept asking me if I was alright and if it was hurting? Bless ’em.
The young Nurse got the catheter on but struggled and missed off many of the loopholes with the top and bottom holding straps. Thus, I now have a bend in the longer tubing; that requires concentration when sitting down. Argh!
The bag was different to the others I’ve had; it was much smaller?
I must remember to check it more often!


Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch!
I bet I forget and get caught out! What are the odds?

Went to make a brew of Glengettie tea.

I found I’d left the hot tap running again!

Well, time to get some nosh done. Bacon lardons and tomatoes with some bread and a dessert, methinks?

I burnt the pan of tomatoes, cleaned it up and put another can in the pan.
Enjoyed it. Flavour Rating 8/10.

INCHIE HAS A MOAN

Arrived, a know-all, snottily superior attituded lad. Self-Self, Self. He asks, “What have you got to tell me, then?” Goes on his mobile and doesn’t listen. And didn’t take the bags with him to the chute on any of his three visits today. He took a drink on each visit as he left without any being offered to him. (He could have asked, and I’d have said yes anyway) I could see him taking them in the reflection from the computer screen. I don’t want him coming again.

He’s down for a visit tomorrow, likely a few on Sat & Sunday.
I’m uncomfortable with him, nervous. Dare I ask Meridian for him not to call again after this weekend? I hate conflict. But… getting a pushy egotistic, ostentatious Carer is not what I envisaged when paying for them.

The sleep was again full of waking ups and drifting back off into never-never land so often all night long. With all the other medical worries, Carer Ty’s pushiness, the Catheter and bladder, vision, and my hearing problems, this lack of sleep was the last thing I needed.
It’s bad enough getting through all these medical appointments.
Dementia Doreen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and the Mystery Moving Rib Pains (At the back now), Repeated failure in getting the Urology problem solved, Catheter in and out more often than I have hot dinners, I’m struggling to keep it together. Nothing unusual here, though. Hehehe!

Fare Thee Well!

Inchie Today: Sunday 25th December 2022

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04:30hrs: I woke up juddering and acclimatised myself to the current renewal of consciousness.
Needed a wee-wee, hauled my gigantic mould of flab from the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner, and caught my balance.
Took a wee; that had some PMAD (Post- Micturition-After-Dribbling). And took the bucket to be emptied, rinsed and refreshed. (To say how little I passed, the bucket was surprisingly half full)

I took these snaps of a clear morning; there was no fog lingering this Christmas Morning. Well, in my misty mind, perhaps!
Got the kettle on, sorted out some new potatoes, removed the shoots growing out of them, and got them in the slow cooker. Added some of the delightful Polish Winiary sauce, very tasty indeed. Winiary Przyprawa, it’s named.

A mystery photo was found later on. This is it on the left here. As I recall, I’d just cleaned up the sink, and this is the cloth soaking in the bowl? But why?

Got a brew of Thompson Punjana tea made up.
Got onto the computer and dunked four shortcake biscuits into the tea.
Checked the notepad. Took an unwilling wee-wee. Washed and went back to the computer to finish the cold tea.
Continued to visit the bucket, with short, painful trickles of urine regularly for the next two hours. The computer work was farcical. Couldn’t see properly, had zero concentration, and talk about making errors!

Would you believe it? The Liberty-Global-Virgin Media went down?

Gave up on Fries’s rubbish Internet service

I took this picture to try and take a shot of me waving in the reflection on the balcony door glass.
I made a mess of that, too.
The computer came back on, and I’d had a flood of WordPress comments come it.

So I replied to it. Hahaha!

Well pleased with these results!

Ah, he’s not gone out to see his children with the Christmas Presents kids he’s built for them… or was it him making the noise?

Called 12 minutes.

  Called four minutes.

Three minutes.

Hello, Herbert banging again; only lasted a minute if that? Hope nobody has broken into his flat.

Jillie called, bad line couldn’t hear her, she gave up.
Rang her back, but with my hearing so bad and the dodgy line, it was a struggle to make conversation. I think she is poorly.

Sister Jane rang, but the same thing, and she rang off.
Rang her back, and it was not any better. She did manage to tell me off about a few things I was doing wrong or ought to be doing. But she was talking so fast, I lost most of it.

Made an Asda order for next Tuesday 28th, from 11:30 > to 12:30 hours.

Well, would you believe it!

I went to have a look around and make a brew while Mr Fries, Liberty-Global-owned Virgin Media, was yet again offline.


I’d left the hot tap running. Obviously, did not check it, or did he? It might be me getting mixed up here; either way, no hot water to get the done!

Made another brew, Glengettie, this time.
Took a shot of the car park from the kitchenette window.
Made up some waste bags.

Emptied, cleaned and sanitised the Wee-wee bucket, and disinfected it.

From this point, the wee-wees became less painful, and some of them were not sprinkly. Yes!

God heavens above, it’s 21:20hrs already!

Better get summat to eat then. Cottage pie and potatoes sound good enough for me on this depressing, lonely, miserable Christmas Day.
CHANGE OF PLANS: I’d forgotten I had the new potatoes in the crock-pot. And the Vegan stuffing was on its use-by date, so I had them with tomatoes and a few tomatoes, followed by a pot of mandarins in orange jelly and a pot of my favourite Lemon Soy yoghourt. Taste rating: 702/10.

I poddled cautiously into the kitchenette to wash the pots, and the stomach and back pains got a lot worse for some unknown reason.
The evening sky looked like one of those that looked more like a water painting than a picture. Bootiful!

It took me a long time to get to sleep; due the and the even more crippling stomach and back pains.
But things were about to get worserer!

The next blog with all the bare, sordid details will Cover Monday and Tuesday – all spent in the Queens Medical A&E Centre, then Nottingham City Hospital Urology Wing.

Where I found out what agonising pain really was!

BE WARNED!

Hehehe!

Inchie Today: Friday 23rd December 2022

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Ah, pleasant news for once!

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05:05hrs: I had woken up a good few times overnight, hate precious time was about 03:30hrs. But miraculously nodded off again. Hurrah!
Struggled free of the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner. Caught my balance and off to the . A slightly strenuous passing, messy with it too. The worst bit was the stink from the painful wee-weeing. (Urine infection back? I decided to get the tended to, being as I was in there, and did! Just one tooth bleeding and one tiny nick shaving. Had a stand-up wash; it was too early to use the noisy shower.
Then realised it was late enough and had a good session under the shower. Dried off without knocking owt off of the floor cabinets!
Yes, it amazed me as well! Got dressed and went into the kitchenette.

I saw the state (mess) the kitchen was in and briefly toyed with the idea of cleaning and mopping it. But didn’t.

Got some small new potatoes into the crock-pot on a low setting.
Added some Henderson’s liquid sauce, sea salt and vinegar, giving the strange hue you can see in the photograph on the left here.
I returned later to turn the power socket on. Ahem!
I opened the kitchen window and took this depiction of the morning’s view.
A little misty, and the twinkling lights from business, along with the hue of the morning, gave an impression of a wonderful water paint job?

I went back to the wet room to retrieve the wristwatch and was again surprised to find that I’d done the ablutions and bits in the kitchen, and it was still only 06:17hrs?

Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and took it through to the computer, and perused the scarce-looking memory notes on the pad.

Then, I got such a shock as the started to give the right leg some hammer. I all but fell out of the computer chair!
An performed while I was sitting down! Never been known before! In fact, I think I said to last night that it never comes on when I sit down. Big-Mouth!
Well, it’s started to do so now! I clouted my right knee and ankle several times against the 1963-built, falling to pieces, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off
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I got the Health Checks done.

But I was a little tiny bit disappointed in finding that the NHS site had put me back into the Hypertension Two-Red Zone again. It seems to be jumping between a most and the highly satisfactory acceptable High-Norm and then Hyper-Two?
Still, it could be worse? So, Fingers crossed for tomorrow!
Arrived as I was making a brew of Thompson’s Punjana. In fact, she finished making the mug of tea for me. We got the medications sorted and had a mini-waffling session, which was nice. Brought a few laughs from both of us, which is good for us, too.

I got the updating of the Thursday blog done; not a lot to go on due to my bad memory and shortage of reminder notes on the notepad. Humph! Posted it to WordPress and Pinterested a few pictures.

Made her second call, a Safety Check on the taps, stove etc. She also gave me an extra Paracetamol cause Anne Gyna was giving me some stick at the time Jo-Anne called.

Went to make another brew, JS Red Label, this time, and I took these snaps.

The bog deems to be clearing now. (within an hour, it was belting down with rain).

The Chestnut Way car park looked well filled up this morning… Ha! Just noticed it is already 14:20 hours

Good job that not much is happening to go in this diary; I’m so far behind.
Harrumph!

Aha, there he goes.
Clunk, tap-tapping with the odd whoring sound thrown in to keep me interested and awake.
Bless his cotton socks.
He’s such a nice, ignorantly superior noisemaker.

Hello, an arditamente of rapid tap-tapping there.
He is likely just letting me know he doesn’t give a toss, I suppose.
Still, it didn’t last too long, an hour at most.
Odd, how I’m deaf yet seem to hear laughter coming from above? All part of the paranoia?

I checked on the potatoes in the slow cooker. Nowhere near ready yet, so I turned the heat up to high. Must remember to recheck on them.
I opened the in of ‘Rehydrated Peas’ I bought from Lidl.
Rock hard, sour, terrible! But the last can that I have. So I attempted a rescue job on them. I put some demerara sugar in them and left them to soak in it. Tried a spoonful of them later – EURGH!
I left them on low and hope they turn out better later.

TWIT!

Returned to the computer and continued with my suitable graphic-finding mission. Got a couple copied and posted into CorelDraw.
At this stage, I smelt the burning!
Panic, flab, I hobbled hastily to the kitchen…
CALAMITY!

The new pan with the rehydrated peas had no water left in it at all.
I got out what peas I could, but the others have gelled together like Araldite!
I’d turned the heat onto full instead of the off position!
Soaked the pan, filled it with bleach and washing up the liquid.
The bottom of the pan was unreachable at this stage, so I left it to soak in the cleaners in hopes of rescuing the saucepan.

Cleaned the mess on the hob and stove.
Then got stuck into trying to get the peas out.
It was a slow frustrating job, but then, life is for me at the moment!.
Heck of a job keeping stuff from going down the drain, but used the plastic strainer throughout, and that did the trick. Took me an hour to get the peas at the bottom out.

The yellow plastic scrubber thingy was invaluable, got the job finished. But not until about the eighth time working on it. When I got to see a bit of the black bottom of the pan, a

At this point, 16:00hrs, chimed and came in. As I was telling him about my details, a lack of interest was shown, and he muttered, “I’ll get the medications done!” I think the lad was tired out, done in. Bless him!
I looked at the Carers Report sheet later, no mention of the mess and danger I’d gotten myself into. I’d have thought this sort of thing needed reporting? I may be wrong, of course...
Jozeph listened to me talking without any response. I asked him to take the waste bag for me, and he took the one hanging up with the ‘Pea-Disaster’ waste in it as well. Hehehe!
Jozeph gave me two Paracetomal cause he saw that the Anne Gyna had started to play up; the anxiety, I suppose, also made sure I took the stick with me.

I nipped out onto the balcony, to take a snap of the rainy view on offer.
Oddly there were few seagulls food hunting at this time

Had to utilise the now 24-hour WWB (Wee-Wee-Bucket) with some urgency. The trickling leak was painful still and stunk to high heaven again! Strenuous, and it took ten minutes to pass a few fluid ounces.

Back to the balcony. Opened the side window; the rain had stopped, and I took a photo of the mud-slide coming down into the car park from the unofficial but much-used Woodthorpe Park. The seagulls were back, squirrel, wood-pigeon, dove, cat, small dog, baby and rat seeking for supper.

Hobbled into the kitchenette to get the nosh sorted out. I saved some of the spuds from the slow cooker to have tomorrow and halved the ones being used tonight.
Had to utilise the now 24-hour WWB (Wee-Wee-Bucket) again. Pain, eventual trickle and the long wait for the dripping of the MAD (Micturition-After-Dribbling) to stop! Which took that long; the flaming meal had gone partially cold before I got around to eating it. But it didn’t bother me. Flavour rating: 805/10! Washed the pots, and the checks were done.

I fell asleep watching ‘Heartbeat’ on the box, and I was well into another weird dream as arrived to sort me out.  Hehehe! I think I ought at this time to mention that the names of carers mentioned on this blog are all liable; just might be, possibly, maybe, perhaps the wrong ones. I apologise if this is so.

Personally, I blame for muddling up my brain cells. , and ‘The Lurgy’ for giving me so much constant pain that I can’t concentrate. Of course, that pleasant scumball, pococurante, snobbish, superior-acting, definitely for his mechanical clumping, grinding, drilling and tap-tapping every single day of the week.

By constantly having to take a painful unwilling leak, . To a degree, of course, there are plenty of other self-named ailments to accuse; , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,   … I’ve likely missed a few off of this list of the guilty… Oh, Yes… ME!

Arrived. Sorted the medications out. Little natter, checked taps, treat in thanks insisted upon by myself, and Kara took the waste bag as she left, thanked her and locked the door…
After that, it’s all a mystery. Nothing on the memory notepad other than Kara’s name… and I’m not guaranteeing that I got that, right?

Woke up, knowing I was having dreams but no actual memories of them… other than a feeling they were not good, at 02:30hrs, convinced, for some unknown reason, that it was about 07:00hrs. And got up.

Inchie Today: Thursday 22nd December 2022

£3 million A YEAR!

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Craig could see the light!

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03:30hrs: Stirred, passing wind, and rose from the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner; caught my balance, and off to the wet room, taking the extremely full looking NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with me for emptying and sanitising. Not an easy job when using the four-pronged Metal Mickey stick.

Not much to report today. It took me that long to get the things above done; it was almost tea-time by the time I got this part tackled – with few notes on the pad as well, as well.

Took a photo.

Got on with the updating of yesterday’s blog: a few more hours lost.

Pinterested some photos.
Makes a double cock-up of great magnitude on WordPress.
I sent the template to the bin in error for updating.
Somehow or other, I got it back.
About ten minutes later… I did it again. But could I work out how I got the other one back? No!
I toyed with risky actions taken, in hopes that were what I did earlier… but, No!
I then lost the template altogether!

Started again from scratch!

Then, as if you didn’t expect it:

Then arrived, looking weary after his four-day shift. I didn’t want to delay him; I was his last call.
Got the medications sorted and had a mini-waffling session.
Bade him farewell, wish Bing him a good rest.

It was all computing then when it came back on for many hours.

  arrived in a hurry.

More computing… well. more correcting and putting right mistakes than actual typing! Humph!
My Concentration was Zero at times. The mind is wandering… not a good sensation.

The Health Check did the taps, and oven checks gave me an extra Paracetomal. I asked him to help get my socks off and told him not to wear them again… Hehehe! Joking!

Tended to the Ablutionalisationings duties next.
An amazingly good session.

Back to the computer. Got the fodder in the oven on a low light and pressed on with this blog.

Make a meal, and back to the Porcelain Throne. This session was not so good, but I’ve had worse… Oh, the stink!

Turned off the computer.

Checked the nosh, and it looked ready.
Took a photo of it. never to be seen again… off into the ether it went. Huh!

Arrived and woke me up.
Got the meads sorted and had a mini-natter, taking the waste bag with him as he departed.

ZZZ!

Inchie Today: Wednesday, 21st December 2022

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NOT SO GOOD TODAY: Very little time to get anything done. The Urine Infection is returning. Anne Gyna has not yet gotten over the shortages of medications that laid me up for three days of agony nada frustrations. Between them caused a lack of concentration and depression beyond belief. I think I’ve also got the lurgy that Richard had. Link above to first Snippet. So not so much diary news, sorry folks,

06:15hrs: Spent the first hour of wakefulness between the wee-wee bucket and the Porcelain Throne. So many trips were needed, and all like the urine-fungal infection started last week. Putrid-smelling pee, pains starting in the bladder area, then moving all around the torso, almost to the back.

The Asda order arrived. Carer Richard arrived as I was putting it away, and he gave me a hand to do so; bless him. We spoke of the infections and my symptoms, and he said they were exactly the same as he suffered last week. His doctor told him of a new ‘bug’ going around. (Please see the link in the First News Snippet)
Richard told me to ring the Doctor, bearing in mind that last week I was late in doing so, nada paid the price in pain and lack of sleep. He even wrote it down on the whiteboard for a later carer to see.
When Carer Ty arrived, he rang the Doctors for an appointment for the infection to be seen quicker this time. I got an appointment for 6th January. About 15 days’ time, that’ll help me with the urine agony, won’t it?

Spent many hours on updating the Tuesday blog, at least five! Before getting it done. Accident and mistake-ridden, I’m sure. All to the accompaniment of the blasts of tap-tapping and bang-banging with either sawing or drilling noises supplied by the blocks the smart-alecky, insensitive, unsympathetic, toffee-nosed, self-important, naff, noisy nasty man, from the flat above on the 13th floor?

The pains, the noises from him above, and my still tripping to the wet room regularly. All, shattering my concentration.

Carer Ty arrived. He got the appointment with the doctor booked for the 6th of January, and he wrote the details on the whiteboard.

Eventually, I got the updated Tuesday blog posted to WordPress. (Well into the afternoon now!)

The pains seem to be easing a smidgeon from the innards. Not, I hasten to add, from Anne Gyna, she was in the full crippling, agonising, concentration-destroying form!

gave another blast of thudding and knocking; just to keep me on my toes. But it was a shorter session this time. Phew!

Sorry, I said that… just gave a little, almost musical again a blast of mechanical abbellimenti, with tempo and rubato. Once again, it didn’t last too long, but he was putting plenty of effort into it. I do hope that he hasn’t broken his hammer or chopped his chopper off, and that was the reason for his sudden silence. Or had too much of the Single Malt Whiskey and fell over, cracking his head against one of his train engine models.

Better get summat to eat then.
Got settled to watch the TV and eat the meal off the tray on my fulsome belly.

Carer Cheeky Charly Arrived. In a perky mood as per, bless her. Fed me the medicine, tablets and capsules. Soon off again on hare rounds.
The meal was tasty enough even when not so warm. The vegan bacon from Asda was a bit better than the others I’ve tried. But their Sourdough rolls (Cobs to us Nottinghamians!) were pretty tasteless. Hence a Flavour Rating of 6.5/10.

while watching TV. I was having an odd dream, something about frustrations, involving me working in a giant office complex. Couldn’t get out of the building…

But I was rescued. When woken up by arriving. He soon got the medications sorted out. The old Anne Gyna was still giving me stick, so he gave me two extra Paracetamol. He gave me some clues on marinating, we had a mini-chinwag, and Richard checked the taps and stove, then emptied the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) for me; bless him.

Was not too keen on letting me get to sleep, so I put the TV on. That helped. I nodded off as the first round of adverts came on.
And, not so many waking-ups overnight. No more than about ten or so, as I recall things. I managed another weird dream. On a country lane, nighttime… and in my old Diahatsu Fourtrack; lost. For some reason, I started walking and whistled to the car, which followed me… vaguely recall going into a caravan with a radio playing ‘Onward Christian Soldiers… and finding dead bodies that turned out to be mannequins?

Evening all!

Inchie: Sunday 11th December 2022

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04:00hrs: I woke up with a jump and start and immediately knew I was in need of an urgent wee-wee. By the time I’d risen and caught my balance, was joined by an even more pressing need for the .
Grabbed Metal Micky and tumbled my way to the wet room. Dropped the stick, tore open the fessing gown, whipped down the jammie bottoms and tore the PP (Protection Pants) in the process of getting in position before the overly-eager evacuation started of its own accord.
acci-whoop I thought that Little Inchie was giving some CMD (Cessational Micturitional) after dribbling. But on inspection, I found the .
The tube of Hydrocortisone cream in the wet room was virtually empty. So I nipped to the medicine drawer in the kitchen and got another tube.