I got carried away today… No, not the undertakers or men in white coats to blame. Har-har! It was a moment of freedom granted to my mind by VDD; Vascular Dementia Doreen. A cunning trick on her behalf to give me more grief, and it fooled and lured me into spending half an hour or so of heavenly pareidoliaing as the sunset faded for the day. And I took many photos of its progress, Bootiful! (Further down never the bottom of the blog.
But and however, she made me pay dearly for my moments of contentment. While viewing, photographing and admiring the beauty of Mother Nature through the kitchen window… I’d left the hot tap running. And dangerously accifauxpa-temptingly held in the evacuation that was brewing; So as not to miss the last photos as the darkness fell – But I had to rush off to the Porcelain Throne as things in the rear-end were starting of their own accord! Naturally, I failed to make it in time. Another mess to clean up! Which I did as quickly as I could to get back to the photographicalisationing. Which is when I noticed the hot tap (faucet) running. The water was cold by then. But the real pisser of them all? I missed the dawning of the darkness to picture. I do believe I swore vociferously! Ah, well, on with the diary…
Up at about 06:40hrs. I think the shock of a certain organ being extended, thus giving me great discomfort with the catheter, helped get me up and into wakefulness of sorts. I got the night pouch disconnected.
Went to wash the tube end, and the moon was still in view, so I snapped it wide and closer.
Not very well, mind.
Unbelievably, the day bag had reloaded with clear wee-wee.
I soon got it emptied.
Carer Richard arrived. Medications were given, and he reminded me of Thursday’s visit to the Mental Health Coppice Hospital. Now I must remember to ring Easy-Lift to make sure I have booked a lift. Before it is too late to do so. (Of course, I forgot to do it). Richard checked the taps and stove for me.
Ah, a bit of blood in the urine now. But it cleared up later. I caught the tube earlier, and it may have ripped the fungal lesion a bit. It hurt like hell. (I did this three more times in the afternoon and evening)
I received an email from Lisa at the Rehabilitation and Falls Service (South Locality). She is a caring lady. Asking many questions, which I probably went into too much detail in answering, now I think of it. But I answered them all. Bless her. Carer Sam arrived. Meds and safety checks were done. I was working on making mistakes, errors, misspellings and forgetting things on the blog.
Carer Kara called. Always helpful, that gal.
Teatime, I went to make a brew, and the sunset photo farce began. Here are the photos in the order they were taken; some zoomed in and some not. There are a good few; sorry if they bore you.
But I love them, even if they did cause the Porcelain Throne and tap to be left on scenarios. Hehehe!
I took a couple, one of the car park, the other of the houses, to break up the monotony for you.
Then back to the sky…
Then I had to tend to the Porcelain Throne farce.
Air Fryer tried arrived; good timing on my behalf. The frier-timer had about ten minutes left to go. Richard let me make the meal before he gave me the medications and put the night pouch onto the day bag for me. He took the waste bags with him. The chip putties were consumed with some tomato ketchup. The letdown (I usually get one of these regularly) was that the Lumix would not work for me at all. Well, it gave me a blank screen. I’ll try it again in the morning… but my hope is not high.
AN UP AND DOWN DAY TODAY Depressed one minute, singing away five minutes later, looking for figures and faces in the clouds… Then for some unknown reason, I got such a sharp pain from Little Inchie, and I was not moving, just sat making my usual mistakes and errors on the computer? Unfortunately, off and on, they have been pestering me all day. They still are. Humph!
When I burnt the meal, the third time in three days, a reason or cause to feel down you’d have thought? But no, I just drained and wrapped the burnt stew in multiple thick waste bags, and I took them to the dustbin. Returned to start making another meal.
I couldn’t find my favourite smooth writing Paper-Mate Ink-Joy pen. There’s no logic about the panic I got myself into. Jesus, I’ve got no end of pens I could have used – But No! I just had to find it at all costs! Nothing else got done for well over an hour; nothing else seemed to matter! Until I found it underneath Hopewell’s c1962 falling apart splintered cabinet, right at the back against the wall.
This was not going to beat me, oh, no! I got the best of the picker-upperers. Picker-Percy.
It’s been used almost daily for a couple of years or more, but still working well. It can (and does) pick up individual tablets, even the smallest ones, the Beta-Blocker, Bisoprolol Fumarate, and I-litre bottles of water. A great friend indeed, especially when in need. But, this time, and not Percy’s fault…
I foolishly leant a little too far forward in my effort to fish the pen from the darkness beneath… By the time I’d got it, a few things had taken place…
❶ As I leant down, I squashed against the catheter tube and yanked it out a little… ❷ The swearing and cringing did not help the pain in any way, but I felt a smidge better. ❸ I got Metal-Micky (the four-pronged stick) and went to the wet room to stop the bleeding from Little Inchy. Got some new Depends on, and back to the problem at hand. ❹ Stooped and lost my balance, ‘Clunk’ as my head hit the loose door on the cabinet… ❺ Then back to the wet room and put some Savlon on the forehead, and once again, to stop the bleeding from Little Inchy. Got some new Depends on. I tried to assess any damage to and back to the problem at hand. I got the pen retrieved and should have been more than content… Hah! ❻ It was a different pen, not the Paper-Mate! That’s still hiding somewhere. Hehe!
Carer Jozeph, Carer Sam, and Carer Sarah called up to now. (20:00hrs) A late one to fit the later.
Only been two visits up to now.
Here are the few photos taken today?
♫ FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD ♫ DELIVERED I was soi lucky that Carer Joseph was here when they arrived. The driver left them down in the main lobby! Joseph fetched them up for me, for which he got some cold coffee and all my thanks for helping.
and the last of the fodder
I took this early after getting up to try and catch the shadows from the other flats as they stretched across the tree copse/.
Going to get my evening meal now. Before the night bag gets attached.
Adding the tasty ersatz bacon to the tomatoes, Mediterranean 7-vegetable sauce, and sea-salted, chopped tomatoes with basil in the saucepan. Stirred continually ( as the hot water tap was left run cold, Huh!), and got it served up on the tray.
I got settled in the £300, bought nine years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, itch-producing, back-pains-guaranteed, none-working, recliner. Two of the over-floured bread rolls to dunk in the juices. And the last of the cheap Strawberry jam imitation desserts. I wallowed in the feast, slowly enjoying the flavour. The Taste-Rating for this one was 8.9/10.
after mayhap the best-flavoured nosh all week came the job of washing the things up from its creation. It took me ages to get the pots clean. Thank heavens I used a throw-away tin foil tray in the oven; that made things easier not having to scrub the oven dish.
After getting things sorted, I dipped into the Sprinkle buttons for a self-treat. Seemed a good and earned idea to me.
Sorry I did now! I popped three of the rainbow-covered bits of chocolate into my mouth.The pain and blood from the broken tooth that one got lodged in, indicated that doing this was not a good idea. It wasn’t! Tsk!
I took these photos of the late sun setting. Bootiful!
A distance shot… Then a close-up of the departing sun over the horizon.
Came in, and to the for me. He emptied the urine bucket and checked that the flow from Day Pouch to Night Pouch was working. All good. Richard checked the taps and stove were not left on. He pointed out that I’d taken the antibiotics at the wrong time. At the time, I was convinced I was doing right and could not get my head around the problem, but accepted his findings without question. Somehow deep in the depths of the controlled brain, I was more confused than ever, however: In the morning, when I thought about it, it was so obvious to me that the lad was so right. How these changes in awareness come and go annoy me. Then I get angry with myself. Not as angry as when I do stupid things, like leaning forward and bending, kneeling full well there is a risk of a visit from or at worst, an . Then get pee’d off when it happens! Grrr!
Another example of Inchies newly acquired ineptitude, incompetence, inadequacy and incapacitation are shown above. Not one of the best selfies I’ve tried for. Hehehe! Still, I might use it on the blog, mayhap as an ode-topper?
Safe Sleep, with Bo-Beep, After counting the sheep, I hope your sleep is deep… Dream of nothing grossièreté, Find happiness in a heartbeat!
Good morning! Although it was not a great start to the day. There followed some great and careful help from the District Nurses. But the morning Carer did not show up. Ups and downs throughout the day. Betterer than yesterday. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind, I’ll have to just do the few that I photo’d. And miraculously found memories from the chronically badly scrawled notepad.
A blown bag of out-of-date chips burst open. I enjoyed cleaning them up.
‘Red sky in the morning – Shepherds Warning!
The pouch fills up quickly.
0845hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging.
09:15hrs: No Morning Carer Yet.
Decided to take the antibiotic tablet, just in case they do not come at all. (They didn’t) The Doctor said yesterday it is important to take them apart in equal time periods, morning &evening.
District Nurses came to replace the Catheter. I mentioned that no carer had called yet to give me the medications. I was assured that they will be coming. With it already being 11:00hrs, I was not exactly confident about this. They did a good job with the painful (to me) job of extracting and inserting the new tubing and catheter. Working well straight away. Thanked them and insisted on them taking some treats by way of a thank you. Off they went, and I returned to the slow frustrating job of working on this Thursday’s IT.
The new catheter was working well.
11:45hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging..
Carer Kara arrived later. I thought she had been up to the neck in it and was coming late from the early call, but no. She was not late. This was her mid-morning call. I explained about the antibiotics and my having taken them to keep the important timing right.
Kara gave me all the other medication that should have been issued earlier. We had a little natter as she checked the taps and the stove and took the waste bags with her as she departed.
Tea and porridge, and I watched some TV for a break from computing.
Getting darker earlier.
By gum, changing the catheter has worked as a real treat. Thanks to the two nurses. They sent two because they didn’t believe last week’s crew when they told them how tiddly Little Inchie really was. They do now!
I came over all tired and weary, just like I did the day before. I was so far behind with everything, but I had to just leave it and get my head down. I was suddenly shattered!
I was soon in the land of nod. Zzzz!
But not for long, for I felt the weight of the catheter pouch as I moved into a more -friendly position in 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. I’m glad I did, cause as you can see above, the new catheter was flowing smoothly and persistently… which is good! There were only the very faintest signs of any blood, as well.
I think it was who came again. It may have been, and it could likely have been . Or, . I was so deep in sleep that I could not see much at all cause both eyes had fogged up; I couldn’t hear anything, whoever it was said, and with the ever-present ogre of…
Plaguing me in my current half-conscious state, I fear I recall but nothing of the Carer’s penultimate visit. Whoever it was. I assume I was given the medications. I did not as I remember getting out of 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, for the whole visit. In fact, did it happen? Was I dreaming? Was someone toying with me in my ultra-sleep mode? Was I drunk – I don’t think I drank any alcohol. Unless it was in an out-of-body experience in my somniferous early evening temporary hibernation with Sweet Morpheus? Fair enough, I had been nibbling; the proof of that was the two four-pack biscuit wrappers I found crammed up my sleeve later. More of the nocturnal somnambulistic activities I seem to involuntarily enjoy?
I was struggling to stay awake throughout the gal’s visit. And was soon back in the dreamland within seconds of the Carer leaving. I was totally done for, tired, drained, and shot! To make things worse, I was aware that with all the visitors, and my lackadaisicalness, I’d not even started the blog off yet! I foolishly allowed myself to imagine I’d get up later and give it a go. It didn’t happen! I wasn’t feeling good at all.
I was not hearing, seeing, or understanding what was going on. And this is the second day of these experiences. I look back now, and a dreadful fear of not coping with Doreen and the ailments, and thus going into a home, scares the shit out of me!
Another deep, preciously removing the worries, fears and uncertainty of life. Bless Sweet Morpheus!
Shortly, and far too quickly, I was woken by the door chime. And in came the sweet Carer Sarah. Her mission? To giveth me medicationalisationings, and, and had soon for me, and set about and to the day pouch. On this rude awakening, thankfully, I was nowhere as out of it as I was on the earlier visit. I was definitely more responsive after I got over the shock of getting up too quickly. The eyes & hearing are still bad, though.
Sarah got the night bag fitted on. She emptied and washed the bucket from emptying the day catheter. Did the medicationings, and we had a little chat. She read some of the dates on the food in the fridge for me too. Bade her farewell at the door, and I locked it.
Then I decided to make a meal. Huh! One-handed, with the stick and night bag tagging along. It was a mistake. The meal was fine, but the mess I got into making it left me bruised and a mess all over the kitchen!
Eating away, enjoying the flavour, I dunked one of the cobs several times. Getting the second one, I broke it open… the greeny-yellow mould spewed out, and it fell with a splonk into the dish, tomatoes and ersatz franks! That was the end of the meal!
SATURDAY 4th FEBRUARY 2023
ANOTHER HORRENDOUSLY TIME-CONSUMING DAY.
A SPARSE PATCHY EFFORT TODAY FROM INCHIE, SORRY.
The catheter contents were locking mighty colour!
Up, Porcelain Throne, wash, and got a mug of tea and the last pot of porridge. Sob!
Care Sarah arrived, and she helped me clean up the spillage I’d just made when the blown bag of seasoned chips blew up! Hehe!. Pouch checked. Little natter.
Hours of blogging until the almost-expected weariness and mega-tiredness arrived. After that, I was drained and not good at anything. (I seem to remember my Dad telling me that?).
Burnt the stew that I was making. Left the kitchen hot tap running. When it warmed up in the PM, I left the damned hot water running in the wet room! Not a good day, and it got even worserer!
Sinking towards frustrated depression here! I went to put the photo’s on this blog, and can it be? They were not there on the SD card.
Then, for three days now, the mind went into muddled mode. Honestly, worrying this is. As I recall, I was washing the pots for the eventual meal I’d made for the second time…
Which wasn’t too bad. I found myself in the spare room, picking through my socks and seemingly sorting them? I carried on separating the short ones from the long ones for ages? It was like it wasn’t me, but a film I was watching? It has to be said Doreen Dementia is winning here! How do I explain this to the nurse next Tuesday; when she does the follow-up interview? Should I mention this or the following farce to her at all?
I actually left the junk room, and I started to make another meal!!! Until waking up on Sunday morning, everything was a blur. Ni idea who or if a Carer came, but the night catheter was comfortable, so I~ think either Sarah or Kara may have tended to it.
Total mayhem-problems with the . I’ll try to explain what they were chronologically. But with so much and farcical situations arising, I did little else all day. Trying to sort out getting the flow to the bag again… and even worse problems. As I hope you will read about; I need some good luck through the ether to me, so I can cope with them a little easier and not get frustrated so much. Not many memory notes on the pad. It all happened so persistently.
I woke feeling myself for the first time in months, peeing away merrily… I thought I was dreaming at first, but no!
The blood and urine mix was all over my clothes, body, and the £300 second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner.
The flow was so vicious, that the Protection Pants were soaked, and legs, socks, feet and slippers were covered in blood. I got the night catheter off first; no point in cleaning up and making more mess straight away… Huh!
Aha! I’ve found some scribbled notes – hard to read, but I can use them for updating here and there. Seems I got up at 03:00hrs. And took off the night pouch and visited the , the first of several in the morning. The first three were practically normal evacuations; the next three were sticky, phooey and messy!
Sorted out the mess of the pouches and got new Protection Pants on. I just had a smashing phone call from the Lovely Lisa-Petal ♥ and Billum 👍 in the US of A! I fear I was a little not up to much when the call came in, and I had great difficulty in hearing everything that the Sweetheart said. Damn it, we lost the signal. But it was fantastic to get the call. Lisa & Billum are my Cyber-friends and are much loved.
The needed attention all the time.
Rising, things looked okay
Removing the night bag
One of the emptying sessions
Carer Richard arrived. The bag problems were all I had to show interest in. I was a smidge depressed – but got to the stage of Dracula Depression later. The constant changes in the bag’s performance riled me. Richard got the medications done and checked in the right leg bag.
Carer Sarah was the next visitor. Got the medications sorted. Then the great cock-up with the Catheter Bag!
I emptied the blood again…
But the flow from the catheter was not getting through to the bag
The blood still flowed from little Inchie. But, nowhere near as bad. Unfortunately, my trying to get the tube further into the Little Inchie, it irritated the Fungal Lesion. Added to my having to bend and stretched so much to clean things up, the Mystery Stabbing Pain in the Ribs returned.
A damned good job. I’ve got a good supply of Depends in stock.
The Catheter pouch suddenly filled up in fifth gear time!
Boy, it was full!
Emptying the bag was difficult, with all the blood clots.
Carer Kara arrived. I told her of my problems. She wanted to know if I wanted the night bag fitting or not. I farted about and dithered on whether to. As I saw it, with little blood and urine going into the day bag again, it should be okay; with my doing the blog until the early hours, it won’t matter about missing sleep. I’ve missed that much already. (Sarcasm Detected)
Going to get this posted off and get some sleep if I can.
Well, well. Another messy day of pains, panics and failing, falling, spiritual aspirations… and a constant battle with the flaming, flipping, ruddy, scary Urine is much bloodier.
A sudden fill-up nearly caught me out!
Extra painkillers imbibed. Thanks to the urine & blood not going into the pouch, and settling in the bladder. EEEYooowOutch! Is the word.
Usual care is taken. Medicines issued. Spoke of the unbelief of us both that I am not in the hospital having the blood clotting looked at. Checked the taps and cooker and took the waste bag to the chute.
I spent hours on and off today trying to get the blood clots in the tubing through to the bag. Dizzy Dennis visited many times. The constant bending down to the tubing is the cause Also, because the urine could not get out, I suffered such pain all day long. This is not going to help at all. Fiona from the Falls Team rang. Asking if the antibiotics had arrived yet. I told her no. She or the Nurse will be calling tomorrow. I must be firm about telling her of the stomach pains, blood clots and Little Inchies agony.
Called. Soon off after a little one-way natter.
Late morning photo.
Asda Delivery arrived
Again, not a lot for the money spent!
The fridge was looking well stocked now.
Had to constantly squeeze the tubing into the catheter. The and backed-up bladder full of blood clots and urine was wearing me down.Well, the pain from them was!
Sister Jane rang and we had a natter. She went to the hospital last week, and they said she needs a cataract operation. It will be a few weeks, they told here… A few weeks? I’ve waited after eight assessment appointments over the last two years before getting the go-ahead… and am still waiting? Is this Postcode Prefferality? Could it be because they live amongst the ‘Posh’, and I amidst the ‘Rough’? Hehehe! Only joking. Jane & Pete come under the Rushcliffe Borough Council, me? Nottingham City Council. Jane is suffering from her sight badly now. Fingers crossed that she can get it done soon. Me? As usual, I’ll just wait. Har-Har!
This new day pouch is just not getting its due supply of urine. It just stays in the bladder infecting everything else in there, and then occasionally, not very often, it fills up with a rush when I can get the blood clots through. Still, it’s bloodier, so redder, and gives me pretty patterns to look at.
A new-to-me (I think) Carer arrived tonight for the big medicationalisationing. After the gal departed, I started to make a mug of tea and had to limp smartly to the Porcelain Throne. By gum, this session was different! For the first time in many weeks, Trotsky Terence had surrendered his command of the evacuations over to Constipation Conrad! Hard as the torpedoes were, there was no bleeding at all from the rear end.
I was chuffed with this nice change. Got back to the computer and spent some time urging the blood clots through the catheter. Thought I’d make a brew of tea and found… I’d left the hot tap (faucet) running! Oh, I do annoy myself at times!
An hour later, the red blood in the urine was turning back to the brown colour it has been for the last four days.
Caught a photo of the end of the sunset... Then started to make the meal of the day.
Ersatz bacon, spuds with some BBQ sauce, and tomatoes. Flavour rating 803/10!
Arrived for the final call of the say, well, night. Over the last hour since emptying the Day Catheter bag, not a drop of liquid had gotten through to the pouch? Richard got the night bag attached, and very slowly, the flow began. More an occasional drip here and there. Back to the brown this time. Still had to shake the extra tubing and squeeze the thick, clotted blood through at times. The stomach/bladder was aching again.
06:20hrs: Woke and removed the Catheter Night Pouch. And well-bloodied it was. Tummy ache.
Amazed at how many times the photos of the Catheter Bags seemed to have faces, figures of animals, and other objects on them. Can you see the mousse in this one? I’m worried about the pains still coming from the guts and Little Inchie. And, of course, the thick blood in the urine.
Emptied the Night Catheter bag in the WC.
Took this photo when making a mug of tea.
Carer Richard arrived, and he got the medications given to me. Told him about the blood in the urines again and how it was even redder than yesterday… or less brown, mayhap.
The blood coming into the Day bag seemed thicker than ever?
Back to the Wet Room to use the Porcelain Throne. Found that the bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was worse than ever before. The tube was tugging at it. I imagine.
The Co-op delivery arrived. Not a lot this time.
Yee Gods! The Day Pouch had filled up already, and I’d not been drinking the water, cause I was sorting the food out? Better get it empties…
The overloaded pouch only let me release a tiny drop of blood & urine. Then the release valve seemed to stop working! I could be in trouble here cause the bag is so full will only block the bladder with the stake blood in it. No wonder I had a tummy ache! I tried to ring the Meridian Office, but no answers to the three calls I made. So, I called the District Nurse’s number. As I was explaining my problem… The bloody valve in the catheter opened itself… Blood and urine-soaked slippers, socks, and feet, as well as over the carpet. What a state I got into cleaning it up… well, trying to! You can see the blood clot in the above picture that shot out first. followed by a torrent of urine & blood. Argh!
The lady at the District Nurses HQ said she was sending someone around to take a look at things for me and rang off.
I continued to try and get myself, and the place cleaned up. But the stretching and bending, even though I was using kitchen towels wrapped around the picker-upperer, started Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, the Mystery Rib Pains, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and a lengthy Dizzy Dennis attack off. I was not in a good state at that moment. Half an hour later, I was washing the wee-wee bucket. and a nurse arrived, a pretty nurse, too. I was in a bit of a state panic-wise, so didn’t get her name… or maybe I did but forgot it. Yes, that sounds likely to me!
The nurse listened while I told her the sequence of events. Took a photo of the blood clot and date on the guilty pouch. Most annoyed at the Catheter Pouch being changed, asked me if they knew (Carers, I imagine) that the bag must be changed every seven days. That’s what it is designed for, no longer; seven days is the limit permitted. Doreen Dementia intervened, and I could not answer her. The pains were not helping me to concentrate. She told me to ring if had any other problems.
An interesting photo here. No idea what it’s of. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel! The new bag filled up quickly again.
Emptied the pouch.
Took a snap of the much-missed-visiting tree copse.
I see an image in this picture of the day bag. Can you?
This one reminded me of Telstar.
The new shape of the pouches was noted. No faces or images were seen.
Back to the Porcelain Throne. Wearing the just emptied day bag. The blood flowing in looked like veins. Haha!
The bag keeps filling up so quickly?
An hour after emptying it.
Carer Sam arrived on a safety visit. Later, Carer Kara arrived for the late medicationalisationings. We had a quick natter, she was very busy.
Carer Richard came for the late check. He got the night bag fitted.
I pressed on with this blog until around 02:00hrs. Then got my head down.
Back in the morning – Hopefully.
Arrived and to the day one. Checked the taps and stove, then took the waste bags for me.
It’s been an… erm, er… well. an interesting month so far. I’ve been given a rubber wristlet for DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). A Diabetes rubber wristlet. These will decorate my wrists along with the On Warfarin, Allergic To Clopidogrel, Hard of Hearing, and the new last week, Dementia alert bands. The Cataract – Vision – Impaired one has not arrived yet. I’ve checked the box of the options on the Doctor’s letter. In answer to the Question: Where Would You Like To Die, at Home or in a Hospital?
Now after the initial rushing me into the hospital when I woke up with blood coming from Little Inchie and the Haemorrhoid-ridden rear end. I think this was four weeks ago. The Paramedics took to the QMC, A&E.
Where the medicos must have forced two gallons of warm water down my throat to get the wee-wee flowing through Little Inchy, as opposed to Catheter Cathy’s Contraption. I had the catheter put in and taken out about six times, which for me with Phimosis and the Fungal Lesion – not to mention having the smallest willy I’ve ever seen (I’ve seen ten-year-olds with a bigger one than I). This is why the in and the outing of the tube were so painful for me. And it really was testing my pain limit… mind you, it still is at this very moment. I was on the computer and listening to the new tenant’s TV blasting away upstairs. (I assume. He or she might be getting the flat sorted, which accounts for the occasional clunks and thuds. Herbert Mark Two? Haha!
No problem, though; I’ll get used to it. Just take out the hearing aids. They did bladder scans, and some on a big machine. But gave up and sent me to the City Hospital Urology Department. Patience Ward Two.
Where Patience was at a premium. Urology was just as baffled as the QMC staff were. They had the catheter in and out over the next day, at least eight times; despite gulping down at least two gallons of water, getting to use Little Inchie for wee-weeing was a failure. They (Urology) summoned me back to have a… I’ve forgotten what it was called now.
Ah, I’ve got it now (just looked it up on the Internet). A Cystoscopy, a CT scan of the urinary tract, and a urine culture. Still, no reason was found, so the catheter has now been on for about 4-5 weeks. The walk to the Doctor, half a mile at most, took me nearly two hours! I had to keep stopping cause the pain was so bad. I got the surgery, told the Doctor, and hose said: “Talk to Urology”. It’s great to be so cared for, innit? Anyway, since the tumble I had getting on the trolly at the hospital, week one: I had another fall. Week two: two Accifauxpas. Week three: Just the one; it wasn’t a bad one. Week four: Three tumbles, and two, one seriously, walking-into-solid-objects. The wet room door, and then the junk room door frame. Which started and produced a , that had me over – but I fell on the two bags of laundry that has not been collected. I’m glad they were days late now. Hehehe! Today, the wee-wee into the bags seemed a little better. I reckon I’ve emptied the around ten times! And the blood in it was far less than yesterday’s was. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe… perhaps! The attaching did not take place. No Carer arrived to attach it for me. I believe they were struggling with staffing problems and possibly the hospitalisationing of another tenant. No bother, I kept waking up overnight anyway, and I remembered to check the small day bag each time. Emptied it three times. No sweat!
With all the nocturnal activities of emptying the pouch, I didn’t get up until 07:30hrs. Little sluggard! The was at bursting point, I managed to get it emptied before any disaster!
arrived as I was making a brew. Got the medications sorted, and he helped me ready the bin bags for him to take. Said how busy he was.Thanked him profusely.
I left the hot water tap running again!
The pain from Little Inchie was still bad and stayed that way all day & night. and cobblers!