– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I seem to have acquired more blameworthiness, Does this come from my apparent guiltworthiness? Or possibly, from my innocence & guiltlessness? May it be due to my banal gullibleness? It could be from my gutlessness or gutsiness, My seizure episodes that bring gormlessness? My life lived with no moments of being gregarious? Or my periods of excessive garrulousness? A lifetime of receiving sideways glances? Undoubtedly, my depression and gloominess? Or my lack of confidence, which is ginormous? My infected brain has a certain grotesqueness, My ageing body shows signs of ghostliness, Mind & body decaying, it’s getting grievous, As I mentioned earlier, always the guiltiness, My search for painlessness was gainlessness, Surviving life’s been a stab in the dark, a guess!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not the best of days.
At least I got some good sleep. It was broken, of course, but I reckon I still enjoyed a whopping seven hours. Nice!
The nocturnal pouch clour was another 4 on the NHS scale. With the Health Checks doing so well, I was well-pleased, to say the least.
A morning of mini-seizures. I’m not surprised; I was notified of a change in living circumstances late in the day. My own fault; only me or Doreen Dementia is to blame.
The seizures didn’t help. I struggled with the odeing and spent far too much time (Over four hours) trying to flow right. I’m not all that sure I improved it.
No confidence today. Plenty of the ankles sending electric shocks up the ankle, and the seizures, albeit they were short ones, I think, handicapped my brainpower.
A morning shot of the kitchenette view.
Adjusted the calendar clock.
And the biggest, well, most prolonged Seizure ever visited me.
I cannot recall much; the blanks were long.
In the late afternoon, I got the letter hand-delivered informing me about the upcoming changes.
Oh, I’ve not put the delivery photos on yet. So, I will. Some of my favourite eats were delivered.
But I was not in the mood to feel cheerful
about anything.
The Natoora tomatoes were a bit soft, but I used them in the meal later. They were tasty! Chessy-topped cobs.
I’ll have two of them tonight. The fridge was looking fuller now.
Now it’s Nosh Time. Battered onion rings were done in the oven. The mini Spanish tomatoes were thrown away; they tasted terribly bitter. All else was eaten. In my depression, I forgot to score the taste. And cannot remember what I gave it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheerio Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:55hrs: After an often-broken sleep caused by dear , I still got about 5 hours of sleep in bits, so that wasn’t too bad; I woke most unenthusiastically. I pondered over things as I sat there on the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, not fully aware of things, trying to figure out why I felt like this. I put it down to my having woken up with an activating seizure. My confusion started to clear after a few minutes. But I still felt a little off-kilter, mentally. Voids in my memory, despite believing I had been dreaming, there were no indications of what of. Annoying that, innit? I eventually, gingerly rose from the £300 second-hand, most uncomfortable, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, creaking, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-working recliner and caught my balance. I took off the Nocturnal Catheter pouch to free myself to start the short mini-exercises… Well, that was the plan.
Within seconds of starting the stretching, I was on the floor, with a decent bruise on the forehead gained on my way down to the carpet. I still have no idea where or what I hit my head against. It all seemed to occur so quickly. Getting back up was as easy as it could have been, with me landing next to the recliner. Obviously, it was painful clawing my massive, flabby body back up into the recliner. Sensing that this was much more painful than usual, I considered pressing the Help Line Alarm. As my head cleared again, there was no blood at all coming from the wound, just hardly seeable scratch and bruise. I went into my Sherlockian Mode and realised why it hurt me so much, and I found the cause of the original tumble! Yes!
Had given way. I feel sure! After a few moments. The head bump was painless and only was hurting… until a minute later, when Took over as the ‘Head Ailment’. Confusion Konrad remained. And I’m not sure all this is in order of happening now. I forgot all about doing the balance routine after that.
I’m not sure why, but I thought a mug of tea would be a good idea or of any benefit. But I made one and adjusted the old-fashioned clock-calendar. I nipped to photograph the morning view from the kitchenette window. Misty and cold out there again. This snap came out all right. But I thought when taking it I saw a planet, albeit a tiny one, on the top left. No signs of it?
Carer Selina arrived. She noticed the bruise on my head. I made her laugh, telling her how it happened. Haha!
Back to my blogging. In ten minutes, I had five short visits . Then, nothing for an hour or so. And back she came, I had to give up, for fear of making so many mistakes that I didn’t realise then and losing hours of precious time to correct them. Humph!
I got pm Word to write the day’s Ode.
Came back on again. I had to give up again. I will sit down and wait it out, hoping it will not be another long one. They seem to tire me out.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Shasha is one of Tim Price’s
Colony of Cats. Bootiful!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Made a meal and settled the football game.
There were two FA Cup matches to watch, and I did not move out of the recliner for hours and hours. I took this in a break between games. The first one was Plymouth Argyle beating Liverpool!
Made the nosh and settled down to see the second match. Aston Villa v Tottenham Hotspurs.
Then I realised that Quatermass & The Pit film was showing on the same channel after the footy. 1967 FILM NOIR They don’t make them like this anymore!. From 1953 to 1967, They made three Quatermass treats. The first one was made for a TV series. But, 40% of the original tapes have since been lost by the BBC. There are DVDs, but they have a lot of missing action. But I loved them them all. The TV one was poorly scripted, badly acted, and as for ‘Rocket Ship’ landing in the house’s bedroom, without destroying it… well, it was part of the fun and mystery. This was given the title, The Quatermass Experiment. The film concerns three astronauts launched into space aboard a single-stage-to-orbit rocket designed by Professor Quatermass. A TV series. Then (1953) QUATERMASS II film. Strange metallic meteorites rain down over Winnerden Flats, an eerie new town near a strongly guarded chemical plant. Professor Quatermass discovers that contact with the meteorites causes an unusual infection. He is also astonished that the chemical plant is modelled after his design for a moonbase, where life can thrive in an artificial atmosphere. Investigations uncover a conspiracy that extends from the Government level to the zombie-like workers who will stop at nothing to protect the plant. Quatermass deduces that aliens from one of the moons of Saturn travel to Earth in the meteorites, possess human minds, and share knowledge through a collective consciousness. I loved it! Especially with Sid James getting killed in the pub on Winnerton Flats. Ah, Memories!
. The last photo was taken as I looked around to ensure I had not left anything on that I shouldn’t have. All looks good!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m off to bed now!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got about four hours’ worth of Kip! Great!
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Grim: Ayeup, Inchy! Inchy: Gawd, yer you surprised me! Grim: That’s what I like about you, Inchy! Inchy: Wot? Grim: Yer always greet me affably, Inchy: Well, you are an essential part of my family! Grim: What family is that then? There’s none that I can see? Inchy: I mean my ailments family, like Peripheral Neuropathy, my catheter, Haemorrhoids, Glaucoma Gladys and FND, Dodgy ticker, each Whoopsiedangleploppery, primarily, Grim: Can yer explain all that to me? Inchy: It’d be my pleasure to do so certainly! Grim: Go on then, I ain’t got all day! Inchy: Well, I was found unsuitable for adoptability, At making friends, I lost the ability… Being flat-bound, & many a disability, Dementia, illusions, delusions affected me, Yet I get help & chinwags from Jenny… Deana, Lisa, the nurses, Warden Julie… So, despite everything, I feel lucky, I don’t deserve it; to me, life is a mystery… Grim: Your waffling is an abnormal absurdity! When I was a human, it scared the hell out of me! Inchy: Well, that’s it, Grim; you can still recognise ambiguosity, antipathy, and physical and mental agony! Grim: I’ve forgotten why I came now, sadly… Inchy: There’s no need for you to feel too badly… Grim: I find no fear in you for me, challengingly, Inchy: Yes, I suppose it must be a rarity? Next month, I am going to the hospital for surgery, Cephalometry, specifically craniometry, I go willingly and happily… Grim: Why happily & willingly? Inchy: My mind is already blanked and contemplatively ready, Grim: Have you not considered destructiveness, desperateness, despicableness, or feel any despiteousness? Inchy: No, no, no, my life has been deleterious, How have I lasted so long amidst life’s disputatiousness? Grim: Yes, yes, go on, I’m listening, Inchy: Well, I find life lonely, alienating… Grim: Tell me why, without any hesitating! Inchy: My Porcelain Throne visits are constantly alternating, one event watery, the next constipating… Grim: If that’s your excuse, then abluting… Inchy: ‘Excuse me’, I’m still talking! Cartilages Chloe then Carol collapsing, The stove blew up, so; no cooking, The intercom broke, so there was no communication… Visitors can get no access, can’t be allowed in, Down to the ground floor foyer, where it’s freezing, Someone sat on the wall heater, heater detaching! When a nurse, surgical or food delivery is coming… Spending up to 4-hours, sat down there waiting, While up in the flat, the telephone might be ringing, Someone may also be texting or emailing… Trying to tell me an appointment day is changing! The Catheter bag slowly filling… Back to the flat for emptying, Usually when the delivery will be arriving! Unaware, I go back to the foyer, hurrying, And Little Inchies Fungal Lesion starts bleeding! Back up again to the flat for lesion medicating, Then my grip on things starts deteriorating, Next, Sandra’s Seizures are starting, Dementia & PN, I start chastising, The computer requires defragging, But how to, I’m not remembering, Tasks at hand need detailing, after detangling, The flat’s hallway heater is just not heating… My mind turns to food and eating, The bread is wet from the bottles bursting, Soaked with a shandy flavouring, Cartilage Chloe gave way without warning, Lading on my knee, the catheter pouch bursting! And you wonder why I don’t mind dying? Grim: You should put that in your blog. It just might get you some help and sympathising. Haha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I woke up coughing. But, after an amazingly long sleep of close to six hours! I removed the worryingly dark-coloured nocturnal catheter pouch attached to the day bag. I think it is a 7 on the NHS scale.
I emptied the laundry bag that Carer Promise brought back for me last night. The things were hung, and some were put on the towel warmer to dry off a little longer. All four socks had been returned this time.
I ventured into the kitchenette to take some morning shots of the dark sky on view. The lower first one came out reasonably well for once. The second, higher in the sky, should have shown three tiny planets. Which were obviously there to my eyes but didn’t make it onto the photo. Tsk!
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea, took it to the computer and reset my ultra-modern c1970 clock/calendar. An oddly coloured hue to this one?
I got the computer on, and within a few minutes or so, had started off. Really, short ones, but far too many for me to concentrate on the job at hand.
So, this time, I made another mug of tea, Glengettie, and searched the sky for the planets still showing.
I started on today’s silly ode. And seemed to be grasping things better. So I returned to WordPressing, to copy my ode into it. No good. As soon as I started making mistakes, error-making began again. I reread the ode in case I’d made an earlier blunder. And had I? I had to spend an hour or more just correcting the mistakes in the Ode! Some whoppers were in it. One word I’d put in was ‘cragmatical’. Dramatical or pragmatical didn’t fit in with the content, so I changed several lines, some of which had lost their rhyme and others that didn’t come over as intended. Then, when I was putting some photos on from the camera, along came possibly the most prolonged seizure I’ve ever had. Totally undetectable, too; that was rare. I estimated it to have been for about half an hour. During which, when I came back to reality, I found even more errors I’d made with the photographs. There were so many, and I have no idea how I messed them up so much. I’d loaded the wrong pictures, so they were all out of sync and order.
I had to start all over from scratch.
Carer Richard made the first call.
The lad still struggles with his poor legs and uses a double walker. I would not ask him to put on my diabetic socks for me. I’m having a full scrub-up shave and shower later this afternoon, so I’d struggle to get the socks off anyway.
I got back onto blogging (and am struggling with it!).
Carer Sam did the midday call. I updated her on the Intercom failure and the JS food delivery farce.
I added some food and ready meals to next week’s Iceland order. I found some mini-fishcakes on the list this time. Only eight are in a pack, but only £1 a pack. I do like these. I hope they are not sort-listed, out-of-stock or substituted.
I did a bit more on this blog and decided to concentrate on getting the done.
I should be back in two hours. I’ll see how long it takes. It is now 13:35 hrs. TTFN.
Oh, some mail had arrived.
The Farmfoods leaflet offers some fantastic prices. However, the nearest one to me is in Carlton, which is a four-hour bus journey back and forth.
New dosages have arrived for Deep Vein Thrombosis, INR, Warfarin, and one I am about to open. Hang one, please. Well,
An increase in my pension! This £2 a month rise would have been more welcome if Starmer had not allowed myrent to go up, electricity costs to almost double, and stolen the £500 Cold Weather allowance from me. At the bottom, I found this: ‘Less Contracted-Out Deduction of £29.09’! I think I’m going to get even less than I thought!
I hope I never get in a position where I could help Starmer on his way to Valhalla; I couldn’t resist it!
I went to get the meal cooked. I had to take this unnatural shot of the misty sun setting, with creams/beiges, orange, browns, yellows and blacks on show?
Sister Jane called while I was making the fodder. She was in her laundry room, laundering. We had a natter, and I got told off for a few things. I’d missed that. Haha! She told me off the football cup matches being available on ITV. Tonight was the Liverpool v Spurs game. I thanked her and decided to watch the match later. Huh!
MEAL OF THE WEEK UP TO NOW! What an enormous feast! Natural pickled beetroot, pickled mushrooms, Sopoka bacon, a pickled egg, red onions, fresh garden peas and some Parmentier Potatoes with herbs & garlic butter. After taking this photo, I added some Dutch tomatoes. Got down on the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. The tray under my chin so as not to spill or drop morsels on my vast belly. The result in the morning of this wonderful feast was the return with a vengeance of , like never before! Tsk! Turned on the TV, and the match was starting. This was going to be a super-fun meal… But, no! Carer Promise arrived as the match started. Not that anything stopped me from scoffing away while he was here. Hehe!
Inevitably, after the commercial break, I nodded off, waking up as the programme finished. I didn’t even know what the score was! However, notwithstanding, this meant that overnight, considering the early morning shooting awake and struggling to get back to sleep, I reckon I had six hours in the land of Nod! Great! I certainly didn’t want to get up when I woke up again. I was most reluctant and tried to get back to sleep! But, the need of the won the battle.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Welwn ni chi nes ymlaen!
See You Later – in Welsh!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d sell my soul, but to which acquist? Old Father Time, or a reincarnationist? Treat myself, & come back as a rheumatologist? A scepticist, somnambulist, maybe a spiritualist, A perspicacious psychiatrist or psychoanalyst, What’s a phenomenologist? I’ve not got a gist! No, I’d like to come back as a sensationalist, Not as another feeble-minded moderatist, I’ve lived this life with ostentatiousness, Dithering, meandering, graciousless… Though this year, I’ve acquired some spiritedness… I’ve learned hatred, in recrementitiousness, I’ve Starmer to thank for this… For him to die in pain slowly, I wish… No guilty. I hate Keir, the non-socialist socialist, Think I’ll put my name on Old Father Time’s list, I hear St Peter likes a sesquipedalianist, And await the arrival of Keir the Schlockiest!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – MEMORIES – Mr Fooey. Long gone but not forgotten!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 07:10hrs: I stirred to the pain and my being awoken by . Doing his best to detach my head from my torso. Soon to be joined by in the ‘Let’s shock Inchy awake’ campaign, by . Humph! The brain engaged first gear, triggering the mixed memories of my situation this morning. The worries about all the jobs and tasks that the Intercom had caused me to fret over and what I needed to do about them. I’d made mock plans. The first was to get the blog finished and posted. Then, to get down to the lobby from 08:00hrs to 0900hrs to admit my beloved Nurse Hristina. Being as the intercom had gone wrong on me. It’s still not working at all now. Worra Day! I hauled my body from the comfort of the hospital bed, forcing every move. Then, I made a proper mess of photographing the nocturnal night pouch. A number 7 on the NHS graph.
I went to check the taps and cookers in the kitchenette. And the view from the windows was fantastic. After taking the top snap, I wondered if I could take a photo worthy enough to capture the two planets way up high in the sky. Of course, I couldn’t. Nothing like what my eyes were looking at. Tsk!
After getting the blog finished and posted in a short time, I looked at the intercom to see if it would show anything on screen. It didn’t!
Time to get some clothes on for going down to the ground floor foyer for nurse Hristina. A pleasant thought, that! ♥
Arrived as I finished getting dressed. He did a rush job giving the medications, and he got my diabetic socks on in no time for me. Then I quickly looked at the intercom but couldn’t see why it was not working. Helped me get the coat on, then assisted me in getting the walker and to take with me. Then, he kindly went down to the lobby with me. I sat in the lobby, and it was cold there. Doing the crosswords, but only for half an hour. And Nurse Christina arrived 🧡. She was unhappy with me going to the lobby but understood why I had to. We went up to the flat, where Christina had a look at the intercom. As she was taking my INR Warfarin blood samples, she said that she would ask Julie about the intercom for me if she was there. Bless her!
Then I changed the dates on the c1970, made a clock/calendar, and started this blog. Things might get complicated in a while; I only had an hour and a half to work on this blog before needing to go down again to the ground floor lobby to wait for the arrival of the returned JS food delivery. A Financial Carer is now due to fill in my pages-long HMG Social Q&A papers. These are bound to clash, especially if the Cardiac nurse arrives. What next? The threat of mental mayhem lingers!
09:45hrs now. I’d better get my coat on ready. A smidge of guilt tickled me when I saw the hospital bed, which I thought I had straightened earlier.
Took a quick snap of the kitchenette windows as I made the first brew of the day. I can’t wait too long for the financial visit. I must get down in time just in case the JS order arrives early, and I must stay down later if it arrives late. Thus, I may miss the financial help call I’m paying for. Life is a mess here!. Grumble, groan, moan!
Carer Kimberly arrived at just gone ten. We set about the NCC (Nottingham City Council) Q&A form filling. It took a long time, but we arrived in time for me to shoot down to the lobby again and await the J Sainsbury delivery. I met an old friend from long ago, and we had a natter. She has also had her intercom go down on her. She was doing her laundry, and we had a lovely chat. I had to nip up to the lonely flat to empty my catheter. She kindly kept an eye out for the JS delivery. I emptied the catheter and returned to the ground-floor lobby. The gal went up to her flat and then returned with a note she’d written for me and left it on the external intercom, stating that flat 72’s intercom was out of action; please ring the ‘wardens’ who can let you in. Very nice of her. 💘 Thank you, Angel. The JS van arrived, and we all went up in the lift. Little did I know that I would soon be cursing, swearing and spitting at and at the very thought of J. Sainsbury’s! The driver may have been a little embarrassed when he told me that two bottles had ‘burst open’ and many items were covered in shandy. But the packaged goods were sealed and should be all right. (Never has a man been wronger!) The empty box had the fresh foods in it for 2 minutes! The shandy had permeated through the outer and inner packaging. I had to throw away the chocolates, biscuits, wafers, onion rings, bread, and patties. Some of the others look likely to end up the same way. But, they did not charge me for the two broken bottles. But of course, this put me below the minimum charge, and I got a delivery charge added. My opinion of JS sank. I could not stop cursing and swearing at them. I opened each multipacket, only to find that the inner packets had been soaked for so long that the products had been soaked in the shandy. I’m still spitting occasionally. I got a phone call on the mobile and asked the driver to take it as I could not hear what the caller was saying. He said it was the NCC, saying they would call on Friday to look at the intercom. I thanked him muchly. The bin looked well-filled already! I suppose I can cope with the shandy-soaked potatoes? The shandy-soaked label on each baking potato took ages to get off. The cursing returned! I’m hoping the fresh garden peas will taste alright. The cream cakes and parmentier potatoes I suspect witll have a shandy flavour to them. The beetroot was the only container that seemed shandy-free! Even the tomatoes had some dark liquid inside their box. The pattis had been permeated, but I think the Eclairs may have resisted the flow of shandy. I suspect the sliced red onions may have as well. The outer jar of peas and Anchor butter was sticky and wet, and, of course, I’ve no shandy to drink now! A third round of anger and cursing ensued! Made worse by the incident not being my fault. Despite the delivery arriving, having to throw so much stuff away left the fridge still looking a little bare, to say the least.
Then I got a landline call (much easier to hear what they say on this line) from the Cardiac Team. The nurses will not be calling today; they will advise me of when after they have made rearrangements. I should hear from them via email by next Wednesday with the details. Well, that will save me another trip down to the foyer!
I must record the happenings on my notepad/Google Calendar. Since the maintenance crew did not give a time of day, I’ll put it on the calendar for the whole day. So, I did!
I got a late phone call from Sherrington Park Medical Surgery with the new Warfarin INR level dosages. Mon to Wed: 1.5, Thursday 2, the rest were also I.5.
Carer Promise called early at night.
This prompted me to take a look at the evening sky. I just caught the sunset again. And lovely it was, the first picture almost like a painting. Then I took a close-up of our Mother-Sun on the horison. I imagine this is how Mars would have been portrayed in the 1930’s and earlier?
I made a bread roll filled with about everything I had in stock. First time I’ve tried bamboo shoots. Can’t say I was impressed… I was also a smidge annoyed at forgetting the beetroot and pickled egg. Humph!
Carer Promise did the last call. Whipped off the diabetic socks; no medications were needed. He also returned the bag of laundry. I’ll sort that out in the morning.
Sleep came late, but it was a much better one.
And it lasted for over 6 hours! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski, Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – INCHY’s ODE When an ankle-snapper, my questions got cupboarded, Always complicated; the house was candlelighted, We had gas: non-payment meant this was sequestered, Things didn’t bother me then; life was uncomplicated, Even when Mother ran away to avoid being arrested, To head cook, washer and cleaner, I superseded, Dad got me part-time jobs – as if they were needed! On weekday mornings, I made sure Dad was breakfasted, Then rush to school to be bullied & headbutted, From school to do the paper round hurried, Back home to get Dad’s meal, the fire prepared, Happy days… to me, this felt normalised, Of course, not knowing when I get octogenarianised, That I’d physically & mentally get disableised, Or be flat-bound, high in a High Rise, Or the Pensioner’s fuel allowance would be shanghaied! Or the end of the world would be visualised, Nor would I consider getting myself schnockered. Or stuffed with Morphine & Beta-Blockered, The line above would not have been included, If Starmer & Dementia hadn’t obtruded!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sunday morning: I stirred, for the first morning for five days on the trot… without the grating cough greeting me. Boy, this was a good moment. Finally, the ‘bug’ was weakening and letting me know this. No adoption of any . Too cautious for that.
I’d just had a night’s sleep of over six hours duration, and it was grand! I removed the nocturnal night pouch and sat there pondering and getting myself uptight at the many things I could not rectify. The Banking details, the medication shortages, etc.
When joined in, I heard, or thought I heard an alarm of some sort. I went on the hunt to try and find what it was that had sounded. The Alert Alarm? No! The Intercom? No! The Water Tap Leak alarm? No! A Text Message? No! The electricity panel showed no lights. Ah, was it the door chime? Nope! This made me think it may have been the Foyer Intercom, so I looked out the door, and nothing was there. Had I ing that I’d forgotten about?
It’s time to turn on the computer and take a look. There was nothing on it for today. I did note that I’d put the Iceland order on the wrong day for next week. I corrected it (I hope) after going to Iceland to confirm the difference first.
Carer Selina came in without ringing the buzzer, fritted me as she stood behind me, and greeted me with a cheery face. Hahaha!
She confirmed the colour grading on the NHS chart as a 7, but I put it down as a five in the Excel graphic for some reason. Then she got a pair of diabetic socks fitted, and I asked her if she’d seen my laundry anywhere. It had been three days. She skipped down to take a look and returned with the laundry bag. Bless her. She issued the medications and had to rush off.
When I put the things away, I found smears of fluff growing from the laundry room floor over the dressing. It’s not unusual. All the socks were there this time, and there were no extras, unlike when I had gained a bra and a pair of ladies’ knickers.
I got onto WordPress to start on this blog. And what a disaster the first two paragraphs were! I could barely understand what it was I’d been trying to say! Ultimately, I gave up and deleted it, starting from scratch.
Carer Simon arrived for the midday slot. I took the opportunity to mention the laundry. The problem was finding out where my bank passwords were. I pointed out that I was not complaining; I just wanted to know they were in hand. I also explained the medication shortages in detail. Simon said he’d try to find out for me on Monday and look into the medications’ situation to try and get me some clarity. Thank you.
Back to WordPressing. I replied to the comments of my hoard of followers. All three are friendly people. Then I went on the Blog Reader viewing.
Carer Richard made the last call. I was having my very first long seizure of the day at the time. Nothing to report from a blank, vague memory. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Somethings coming… I know not what… The Grim Reaper with his chariot? What will be lost, found, mistaken or misbegot? May I choke on medications or chocolate? My Glaucoma op arrived? That’d be a shock, Mayhap never another seizure or mental block? A Bhagat just may be begat or wot? Politicians may do things without a subplot? No, that’s asking too much, what? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – We waited so long for a Labour HMG saviour, What do we end up with? Dishonest Starmer, He amassed himself £102,000, by gift & freebie, Gets caught out as a cheat & and a by omission liar, Then, the git decided to rob every pensioner,
Moves on to tax increases for every farmer, Before was Blair New Labour, Thatcher, the warer, Both had faults, but neither were poorer… Then Starmer, the Labour beancounter, Here’s my chance to be a bit of an auger, He’ll end up being a greater disaster…
Pensioners eat or heat on bread & butter…
Keir, the bystander, babbler, baffler, bamboozler, The future has never looked dimmer… He’s allowed a 50% rise in the cost of a Zimmer! I wonder what they gifted him for a backhander? But what options are there for the elector? Conservatives, no, Rishi was their suicider, What would be phantasmagorical… Is it possible for him to read this little Ode… oracle? Will he get the message? He is pretty academical,
Unfortunately, he’s also ungainsayable,
A stream of compassion is easily wadable.
Not to take it is cruel and wackadoodle.
More complex for him is the path to turning veridical,
Is his urge for backhanders & lying unrestrainable?
His actions, to date, have been totally unmollifiable,
For a Labour leader, it is astounding and indefensible.
Anything he says now, after so many lies, is unbelievable, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – During the election, Labour promised they would cut energy bills for good. Labour announced proposals to “set up Great British Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company”, and in the run-up to the election, prominent Labour politicians claimed that this would cut bills by up to £300 a year. What has happened: On January 1, the latest Energy Price Cap came into effect; this is the second time energy bills have risen despite an explicit promise by the government to cut energy bills – another broken promise for which we are now paying very dearly for the price raise!
What has happened: Recently released figures show the number of small boat arrivals has increased since Labour came to power. Between July 5 and December 31 2024, there were 35,242 arrivals by small boat, 33.4% more than in 2023.
Keir Starmer told the country they could trust Labour’spromises not to raise taxes and not to unleash a borrowing spree. In the House of Commons on October 9 this year, he said, ‘’e made an absolute commitment not to raise taxes on working people. Rachel Reeves said a rise in National Insurance was a tax purely on working people. What actually happened: Labour have done just that and more. They fiddled with the fiscal rules, increased borrowing by billions of pounds, and raised taxes on businesses – which they have now admitted will leave working people worse off. The Office of Budget Responsibility said an increase in employer National Insurance will be passed onto workers.
Keir Starmer, Steve Reed, and the Labour Party told farmers that Labour respects them, protects their livelihoods, and promises not to change agricultural property relief for farmers. The CLA conference was reported in the FT on December 23. What actually happened? In the 2024 Autumn Budget, Labour broke its promise to farmers by reducing the relief and imposing inheritance tax rates on farmland. This will devastate family farms and seriously threaten domestic food security and prices.
Amongst LaLabour’sudget of broken promises, Labour has made the political choice to target family farms, and the consequences will be felt by thousands of farms and families across the country. In Yuan YaYang’s election campaign in July 2024 – she said she wanted to help people with fuel bills and keep homes warm with an insulation plan. What happened: On September 10, 86 days after the election, Yuan Yang, our MP, voted to scrap the pensioner’s winter fuel allowance with Starmer’support. Pensioners expected help with heating costs; they didn’t expect the removal of their winter fuel allowance. Yuan Yang, Starmer and Labour taking money from the vulnerable again! But let’s try to be fair to the pensioner-robber & killer, He may have a mental issue with which he’s not acquainted. Oligarchishness, backhander-addiction, or distempered? Cognisance Impairment makes your brain shackled, Getting caught lying may have been upsetting? A mental illness? I’I’veot 3, most maddening, He constantly shows a poker face… emotionless. I’d like to help him: my mate’s an acupuncturist? He walks with a limp, so may he have gout? He never listens to advice. Does he need an audiologist? Is he demon-possessed, in need of a psychiatrist? To help him to keep his promises & guarantees, That psychiatrist failed; he needs to be ditched! MPs sit away from Keir in Parliament; have you noticed? This was advised to them by StStarmer’sastrologist, Bet he has a neurologist, & a neuroradiologist, I manage with my GP, last seen on October 5, I’ll see her again before I die; I’m an optimist… Although I may be a little over-ambitious, It’s bout 10 weeks to see my Neurosurgeons, Have I enough to backhand them… To make Doreen Dementa scram? Just in case you read this, Starmer… And I die under the knife and hammer… I’m no liar, and I can assure you, Starmer… I’I’lle your spiritual habituér, I’I’llring a bottle of the black death… To sneeze & spill all over you! So please don’t die before you are due… I want my revenge; it’ll be long overdue! Did I mention my hatred for Starmer? ThThis’sy pirlicue. I FANK YOU! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TERRIBLE NIGHT – CONFUSING MORNING – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night. It has to stop!
Be it Influenza, Norovirus or Stomach Flu, it ain’t nice. I’ve been lucky not to get colds and flu. I’ve had all three jabs. But it’s obviously got me this time. A buildup of phlegm and mucus in the throat and chest. Aches and pains in all my joints. And after several years without as much as a single headache. I’I’vead a cracker for three days now with no relenting. Nausea and talk about stomach rumblings and grumblings… although, to be fair, they are not unusual for me. At least, and last, the altering alternating evacuation modes have all been under Trotsky TeTerence’sontrol since I copped this bug. Constipation Conrad can’t get a look in. Hehe! So, on the bright side, HaHarold’s haemorrhoids are not bleeding anywhere near as badly as they were. I’d like to think the same about Little Inchie Fungal lesion, but the Cather tube is giving me pain more than ever now. I must bend down to release the catheter day bag clip and empty it every time. Then, of course, today, the right testicle is growing again for some reason. It might be on its way to matching last year’s spanish-onion-sized. Tender!
Then there’s Pensioner-Killer-Starmer. How the hell has he not been dethroned, prosecuted or assassinated? Even the Tories said they would keep the winter fuel aid. And they did! Then came Backhander-taking Keir Starmer, the hater of every voter, proletariat, street sleeper, worker, Farmer and Pensioner. He is enough to make any mortal sick.
Anyway, I’d been lying on the bed for six hours, praying to get to sleep. But no! So I got out of bed and into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. I still thought I might yet get some sleep. But No! I was aching all over, inside and out. The blood from the throat, blow my nose, blood on the tissue. Only specs of it, mind you. Then, the odd sneezing bouts started. Now, these were scary. I was still not feeling tired. Worn out, yes!
Grindingly slowly, time moved on. I sat there, with the coughs, sneezes, and painful pouch emptying keeping me company.
Had I not been so weary, I’I’dave gone to get the ablutions done. I thought about it a few times, but my body disagreed. Suddenly, I realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky. Back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, HarHarold’semorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I think I felt a bit sorry for at this time. I had a few rapid . Which threw me off kilter. It was now gone eight o’clock and a Carer been, and I was in a seizure and couldn’t member the visit? I then remembered the surgery ringing me with the new Warfarin dosages last night. So, I wrote them out from the notepad and put them in the CarCarer’sg cover. I checked to see if anyone had filled it in the log. But, no! I settled back down in the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. The aches and pains, not the usual ones, the neck, chest, stomach, & joints got worse. as I sat there awaiting the Carer to call. I anticipated they may be late, but having three staff off poorly makes getting cover from other sites difficult. I added some juice to two bottles of spring water and started gulping it down. I was slowly coming out of the seizure… Or so I thought. But you know how lucky I am. Huh! I put the TV on, hoping it may help me to nod off. But no!
At about 10:00 hrs, there was no Caregiver, so I forced myself to use the computer. Not that my mind was ready or willing to use it. And headaches, especially behind my eyes, returned.
At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the post Haste! So, I did! Trotsky Terence was still in command, but the colour had changed. It had a distinctive metallic whiff or pong that accompanied the evacuation procedure. And it lingered. I used the fresh air spray.
I returned to the computer; I could not concentrate as I had anticipated. However, I did add a few decent lines to the start of today’s Ode.
At about 10 minutes to 12, Carer Sam arrived. She checked the taps on leaving. The morning carer had not arrived. I made no fuss about it.
I then returned to the computer and surprisingly began to get along well with the Odeing. It was long, and I had to verify everything I mentioned about the murderer ‘He’r Starmer’!
Was joined by , stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. On the bright side, I think the phlegm and sore throat were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, it made me eat my thoughts and words, and she took over as my Master-Pain-Mangler for the rest of the day, well, evening. This got me concerned over the lack of medication available for easing . I’ve mentioned the problem to every Carer since I found out a few days ago. But no one is advising me or informing me. I dipped into a self-centred depression and decided to see if I could try to get some sleep-catching up done. I got down into 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 an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, ‘n the TV and eat the meal.
Carer Simon called a little earlier than usual, but he had been drafted in again from his own place of work. I mentioned the shortages of my Angina medications again. I felt sorry for the Carers. With three off work, it’s no wonder they don’t have time to advise or help me. However, putting the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV on was frustrating. Still, I got there in the end… and within a minute, had nodded off into La-La land, and it was great, lovely; after three nights of sleeplessness, minutes later, the water alarm sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!
Sugar & Surreptitious Sodnesses! I was attacked by two of my beloved ailments at the same instant. (again) & . That was the end of my memories of the night.
I do recall ordering some cough medicine.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day. Who am I kidding?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Now I am worried. When I checked this blog, I found 157 errors! I have no doubt I missed some. My eyesight is blurry. How the hell did I do so many things wrong? It might have been unrecognised mini-seizures. It’s not boding well!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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!
