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It’s tomorrow morning, approximately 01:00hrs, and I’ve only just started this blog.
I didn’t have the Ezetimibe tablet last night. The Doctor recommended that I take it in the morning. However, the weird staying awake and with it has started again. Humph! 
I’ll use the photos to remind me, and can recall the dangerous trip to the Doctors (bad), the visit (OK), & trip back (Good). The trip there and back each involved Accifaupas… several.
I woke up, with on the rampage. emptied the Catheter bag, and got the kettle on as I slowly regained my senses. Well, I say regained, I mean searched for any remnants of sense, and pretended to find some.

I took snaps of the foggy morning.

Made the brew of Co-op 99 tea, sorted the waste bags, and flew into the wetroom… well, hurriedly hobbled into the wetroom. Trotsky Terence was in full control. I’m getting fed up with the evacuations alternating so often.
As usual with Trotsky, I had a long job cleaning up after the event.
I gathered the necessary ablutional items, towels, cloths, picker-upperer, cut-plasters, bowl, and disinfectant for soaking my feet while I shaved at the sink. First  Accifauxpas: I slipped when I carefully (I thought) lifted my feet out of the bowl. I did not go over, but I strained the right shoulder and back as I urged my body towards the shower chair for support. Used paper towels to dry the plates-of-meat, using the picker-upperer to avoid bending down. Back to start the shaving, it went well, I thought, and it seemed all done in a quick time. Being a pareidoliaser, I spotted the nose & face in the paper towels in this photo, can you see it?
Back to the kitchen and snapped the same view as earlier. Blue mist now. Realising I’d not finished shaving. I noticed the foam on my face. I’m quick sometimes yer know. Haha! Well, shall we settle for a lot slower than I used to be, but not worried too much, as at least I’m not losing it. Well, that’s another Starmer (lie), ’cause it’s apparent I am losing it, but I’ve given up worrying about it.
The early morning delivery arrived, and I got it sorted as best I could. As I finished the job, Carer Ejaz arrived.
When he did a body check on me, he took off my hat, and photographed the top of and back of my head. Declaring that I had got 18 cuts from shaving. All tiny, and the bloblets of blood had gone hard. I thought he was joking. I felt the neck and head, and I could feel each one. Medications were given, and Phorpain Gel was applied. Said ‘Tara!’ and I went to the kitchen and took a third shot of the view. Changed again.
I grafted away, finalising Tuesday’s post and sent it off to WordPress. Ejaz returned at midday for medication, if needed, and a safety check. Said he would be back later for the trip to the Doctors. Ejaz returned, and I gave him cash for the bus fares he needed. He arrived a little later than planned, so we forgot things as we rushed to catch the bus, Ejaz putting the laundry in the washer as we went out.
When we got to the bus stop, we realised we were too late. Ejaz merrily said, “Ah, well, we’ll walk down”
Accifauxpas Hill, I’ve renamed Winchester Street.
Ejaz was ahead of me, and I was struggling to keep up with him, especially with pushing the three-wheeled walker on the muddy, leaf-filled, broken tarmac of the footpath. Then, pains started right across my chest as I was not breathing too easily. (Once I got down on level ground, the pain began to dissipate). However, I walked into a garage door, then a telegraph pole.
We got on Mansfield Road and went to a bus stop. I tipped on getting into the bus. The trip was only three bus stops, but walking it would have meant another steep hill to climb.
We got into the Surgery, signed in, and sat down. I fell asleep (Exsertions?) Ejaz and the Doctor woke me, and into the room we went.
The first Question was: Why have you come to see me today? I replied, You sent me an email asking me to come? I’m sure we discussed me moving into a home. The Seizures. The Ezetimibe might be the cause of my change in sleep pattern. The Doctor said that it is unlikely and suggested taking the tablet in the morning, not at night. They were not meant to be taken at night. Then said she is going to send a phoo-sample kit to me, to be returned. Other things were spoken of, I think. I’ll ask Ejaz when he comes next.
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The trip home.
We left the Surgery and walked to the Lidl store, shot in, and I got some Custard Creams. Then we went out to catch a bus to Sherwood. Again, I tripped as I got into the vehicle. We alighted as I got off. I lost balance, but Ejaz was there like a shot. Told me to wait where I was, then ran up to check the bus timetable. Came back, and we crossed the road to the 40 bus stop. 
I got on board this bus with no bother,
It was rather full of passengers, many from the flats I recognised. There were only the pull-down, very low seats available. So I wedged myself into the corner of the disabled section. I held onto a bar at the window to keep myself steady. When we arrived at the flats, I’d wedged my arm between the bar and the window, and needed help to release it. Worra trip!

Here are some snaps from the trip home.
Mansfield Sherwood, where I stood as
Ejaz checked the bus times.
Not sure where this was.
Inchie at the bus stop.
Up towards the Dentist, Opticians,
and bus stop.
Inchie, next to the bookies.
On the bus.
En route.
Scarred Inchie, getting off the bus.
Walking to the flats.

Got inthe flat. Ejaz went to fetch the laundry.
Throwing it on the bed as he departed, tired, I imagine.
The back and shoulders kicked in again as I hung the clothes up.

Sunset.

I started prepping the photos, but ended up spending seven hours on this blog. Yes, the odd not getting tired was back again. I should feel shattered, but don’t? Then…
Another Whoopsiedangleplop!
All that time I’d sat at the computer, and thought, Blimey, I’ve not emptied the Catheter, so I did.
Two more hours as 04:00hrs approached, I stood up, and the warm feeling in my slipper, the now urine-soaked sock and slipper, made me so angry at myself.
I’d left the release valve open!
ARRGH! Cleaned up and washed the feet again. Hell of a job getting the socks off, ended up cutting them of the left foot. This started of and off. 
Now I was tired and worn out, and both came on almost suddenly. I was going to get belatedly into bed, but the things I started sorting earlier and had been forgotten about were still on the bedspread. I was so tired, I just got an ice cream cornet from the fridge, a couple of bags of Teriyaki crisps, and plopped 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. 
Zzzz!
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ATTTFN
A Tired, Ta-Ta For Now
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A mixed bag of a day today.
Ups… &

alternating their visits, seemingly at random. I think they may have been listening to and responding to the desires of my
.

05:30hrs, I rose gingerly, did the balance exercises, made the bed and noticed how little urine was in the bag. A good colour, though. 
Kettle on, and took a snap of the morning view on offer from the kitchenette window. Not a good one, but there you are. I done my bestest. was shuddering away again. She’s getting more painful each time. Sported the waste bags into one. Had a wash, and Carer Ejaz arrived. Did a body check, Phorpained the shoulder and lower back and issued the medications. I asked him to pick up the things I’d dropped in the kitchen that I couldn’t safely retrieve. Made a brew of Glengettie tea, and a delivery arrived.
Red potatoes, red onions, fishsticks, ice cream cornets, beetroots, tomatoes, and iced coffee for the Nurses and Carers.
Thick-sliced white bread, shredded and sliced Leicester cheese. (Planning on having baked cheesy spuds and red onions for nosh tonight) Biscuits and snacks put with the already large stack I have of them in the other room. 
Off to the wetroom, hobbling hastily, thinking that a Trotsky Terence evacuation was due. I was wrong. Twenty minutes or so later, I’d freed the moulded together solid mass of peanut-sized, rock-hard pebbles.
I’m not sure why I took this photograph. I imagine that something witty came to mind, and I snapped it, thinking I’d remember what it was about when I saw it on the SD card. 
What a hopeful person I am.
Then the mind-blanks started. I’ve not been affected by these for a long time. They erased most of the afternoon’s memories, but I found these photos on the SD card. Sorry if they are from the, or for, the wrong day. It seems the mist had dropped again.
Then, I got a phone call from the QMC hospital. Thinking at first that it might be the EENT wing, to advise me of an appointment being made to have the Glaucoma or the Cataract treated. Or even more miraculously, the Neurology Department. To tell me an appointment has been made to investigate the seizures. Just perhaps it may be the bloke who told me that my Pre-Morbid Cognitive Impairment is treatable and placed me on the waiting list to be seen. 2003, that was. But No.

Took this shot while the Carer was here at about 20:00hrs. I forgot to ask him to take my socks off for me, so I could have a shower and a lather in the morning. But I forgot to ask. I suppose was laughing in the background along with Paul.

I got the cheesy spuds started. Spuds in the oven. Did some blogging for an hour, and then took out the spuds to cut them in half. Sliced the flesh inside the husks, sprinkled some salt & black pepper on them… In the meantime, Carer Ejaz arrived.
He helped with the spud creation, and we added Leicester cheese slices on top of each half-spud.
Got them back in the oven to crisp the cheese, and Ejaz gave the one tablet needed. Ezetimibe. Reluctantly I took it. I had been refusing it due to all the sleep problems. But I did take it this time. Fingers crossed. Ejaz trotted off, and I cleared up, saving stuff on the computer, and went to check the spuds. They were ready, so I closed the computer after cleaning it and made this meal. Wonderful!
Heck of a job cleaning the pan and tray.

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TTFN Folks
Have a Great Day

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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –First photo of the day.
Second photo of the day.
First photo of the day,
A misty day, at times foggy.

But on the ground, not so bad?

Nice strong mug of Glengettie.

Carer Mizra swapped the Catheter bags over for me. I might add, almost painlessly. Thanks.
Don’t the legs look decidedly battered? New spots are appearing now, of all shapes and sizes.

Night shot.

The cheek scratch from the wet-room tumble is healing up, all right now. I’ve been thinking (I tend to do this at least three times a year), I wonder if any inventor can help me? I mean, they have invented AI and robots. Flown to and landed on the moon (I think),
and back again. Invented drones (unfortunately being used in wars, spying, crime, and getting drugs into HM Prisons). Electric vehicles. Pet Location Trackers, ABS, Smartphones, Wi-Fi, Social media (Facebook), streaming services (Netflix, YouTube), and digital assistants (Siri, Alexa).  mRNA vaccines, CRISPR gene editing, CRISPR-based therapies, artificial organs, and advanced, fast-acting cancer drugs. Quantum Computing and Blockchain technology. reusable rockets, 3D printing.  Contactless payment, streaming services (Netflix, YouTube), and smart home devices. Now researchers can take cells from an adult animal, turn them into iPS cells and then turn them into the specialised cells of their choice. iPS cells are now routinely used to help test new drugs and therapies, but perhaps their most exciting use is in the field of regenerative medicine. The cure for HIV. 
Universal programmable chemical robots.
The James Webb Space Telescope. The world’s first electric-powered full-size helicopter (2016).
Wind Farms, Energy-Producing roads. And Solar rechargeable hearing aids. Automatic Hoovers.
All very impressive indeed.

What I’d like to know is: Why hasn’t anyone invented the responsive walking stick?One where we can shout ‘Heel’, and it comes to the voice’s location? Thus avoiding (In my case) injuries like this one
on the left (ear) here?

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Bombay Potatoes
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TTFN & Cheery-Bye!
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I’d treat this suspiciously.
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It is now Saturday, 7th February.
One has to admit, I’m running a little behind schedule with the blogs. Why? I’ll tell you in a Nottingham accent.
1) Fings are gerrin’ too much for me!
2) Their eyes are getting worse earlier each day.
Nothing heard from the EENT about an appointment to sort out the Catheter and Glaucoma bother.
3) I’m falling asleep far earlier than ever before each and every day, now.
4) The Catheter problem is taking so long to change each day, and a Carer is needed to help.
5) Thus, all that I do takes me just too long, and I’m getting slower all the time. I’ve made a start on this one, and will add some bits from Friday.
After this one, I’ll have to cut down, even though I love doing them. 
And the third keyboard I bought in a week, that was doing so well, but now, apart from the wrong signs on eight keys… Now, when I press Shift to type a capital. It doesn’t do it! I have to use the Caps Lock to get them. Even more time and confusion spent!
I envisage this board will soon stop working, as the first three did, but for different reasons.

I just went to make a brew of tea and found I’d left the hot tap running again. It’s so cold now, and the heating doesn’t come on for a few hours yet.
Bad enough, and I got really angry with myself and the boiled water in the kettle was used to wash the mug last used… And I scolded three fingers in my anger, totally forgetting it had just boiled… then, knocked over the Bent to retrieve it, and now I’ve got hassle from the scuff mark on my cheek, and is really giving it to me. Fed-Up? Me? YES!
I’ll just put the photos in; there’ll still not be enough time for me to catch up, but needs must. Sorry.

Early morning.

Planning the nosh.

Food delivery… Again!
Ice cream cones.
The fridge is filling up.

Misty now.

Cleaning the hallway.
Carers do not have enough time.
Not that I do if I’m blogging, Haha!

Brown night
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Night views.

I just found some memory notes.
Hard to read my own handwriting.

Up at 06:30hrs.
Can’t decipher the following few lines.
Seems I had a tumble in the kitchen on Friday, not Thursday. Ejaz to the rescue again.
Throne three times. Messy.
Eight unreadable lines.
Ah! A chap called Jake rang from the Nottingham City Council. He wants to come and talk with me on Wednesday, about finances, I think, but I can’t read all the words on the notepad. Wed next I think, AM. It will be before the Carer arrives. Shame.
Pensions, funds, and I’ve written Co-Op (I think), but I don’t know why. 

TTFNski, All the best!

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A HECTIC DAY;
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOPPERY, ACCIFAUXPAS, CONFUSIONS, FRUSTRATIONS, AND YET, A LATE VISIT FROM HIGH-MODE-HORIS
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05:00hrs: Woke in need of the Porcelain Throne. I felt it might be on the way, so I rushed to the wetroom, dragging the night Catheter bag along with me. I feared another Trotsky Terence spuging was due. But, no.
The complete opposite. I spent ages getting the evacuation started, then it sort of froze a little way out, and I could feel the blood from it as it somehow made its way through or around the stuck-rigid torpedo, and dripped down onto my legs.
With a fair degree of pain and effort, I forced things along, and the slow movement restarted. It went on for so long, uninterrupted once it had begun. I christened this one the Poseidon. Possibly my longest, thickest, and most painful single evacuated product to date. It’s nothing short of a miracle that the WC managed to flush it in one go. I felt worn out afterwards, but happy that I’d passed it.
Morning sky shots on the left here. Misty blue sky, blue thoughts.
I made a brew of Glengettie and pondered on the events of the day. The Nurse might be calling to change the dressing on my leg.
I’m still confused about the timing of the dentist visit, Ejaz will no. Will we have time to get any laundry done, or will I end up going up and down to do it myself again? Will any housecleaning get done? Of course not. Ejaz does not have the time, even on his extended Wednesday visit, because of all the medical appointments scheduled for Wednesday, so he can go with me. I’m hoping someone will let me know whether extra Carer time is coming. If not, a Care Home will be my future… if there is anywhere that can take me in with my problems.
Ejaz arrived, issued the medications, and checked for something on mt NHS site. Body checked and medicated. The lower back, poor balance and right shoulder pain are the only bothers worth mentioning this morning. (Give the others time, let’s be fair)

The blue sky colour had vanished. But not yet the mist and fog.
Foolishly, as I was feeling better than I had for weeks, I decided that, as the Carer would again not be able to do any cleaning, I’d get the kitchen floor done. Which proved a mistake.
The back pain increased to the point that I took another painkiller after doing the mopping-up. Then I sorted out the waste bags and gave the Hoover a runaround. joined in with the Inchie-bashing gang of ailments

An Iceland order arrived. The help I’m getting with stopping me from making these errors over the food orders, such as ‘Don’t order any food!’ Great! This problem is unbelievable to me, but it happened again. I genuinely thought and believed I’d made it for next Tuesday.
This is happening amidst all the current concerns, I would have thought I’d be getting all angry with myself and self-lambasting again. But, no. Why? The fridge held next week’s supply of iced coffees as well as this week’s for the nurses’ treats. I’ll check the dates and take some to Jenny & Frank when I’m settled into my normal state and condition. I should be annoyed? But there are no signs of being so at all. Unnatural, weird and confused me!

Something Else To Worry Over: I got the computer on to make a start on yesterday’s blog. A text came in from the dentist, and I noticed I’d missed five others from them. The first one I’d missed asked whether we could go earlier, at 11:40, for the appointment.
The last was showing signs of frustration and urgency, telling me they have been trying to get hold of me all morning, asking me to let them know if we can go earlier. I rang Ejaz, but there was no answer. Naturally, he might be with a client or driving.

The District Nurse arrived 🤎, and I explained my concerns. She kindly rang Ejaz and got through; she spoke with him, and he’s ringing back later after he’d spoken with the dentist’s reception.
The Nurse removed the bandages, said the wound looked a lot better, and applied a plaster pad.

Ejaz arrived, and I gave him the money for the bus fares needed. It was a rush getting ready to go out. I’d saved some time for the lad by getting my trousers on earlier. That did my back, knees, and balance no good. 
I can’t go on like this without any more help. Carers used to help me get the trousers and shoes on, but I just wear slippers when I go out. No socks, but now that the bandage is off, I’ll ask the Carers to start putting them on and taking them off for me. I’d hoped, well, am hoping, for some help with the abltions, so I can have a shower with someone nearby in case I have a seizure or take a tumble. I’ve not had one for weeks, just too nervous with the Catheter as well. The Catheter has not been changed this week either. I keep forgetting to ask. Oh, I’ll do that in the morning, more time. But, do I remember? Not usually. Mizra and Ejaz do their best with the time permitted. I’d be lost without them.

Ejaz was hurrying to get us out in time to catch the bus. I forgot to take the mobile and camera with me on the trip to Sherewood. When I realised I hadn’t taken them, I was in an angry, self-hating mood!

I got the three-wheeler-Walker out. I would have preferred to use the four-wheeler with a seat, but it was on the balcony, and getting it out would have required time and help from a Carer, so I went with the three-wheeler to save precious time. 
Ejaz helped me onto the bus and sat nearby. We dropped off on Mansfield Road, crossed the pedestrian crossing, and walked up to and into the dentist’s surgery. The four concrete steps were mastered to gain entry, with Ejaz’s help. More help at the receptionist to sign in. Then straight into the treatment room.
The people conversed via Ejaz. Asking him to remind me about cleaning my teeth. No treatment needed. I was in and out within five minutes… I think.
Then went to pay the receptionist. She asked if I’d paid for treatment, and, thinking of the prescriptions I get free, I said yes. She then pointed out that any false information given puts me at risk of a £2000 fine. 
Ejaz took over the conversation. Then they had me sign with my finger and handed the lady my card to pay the £27 or so for the examination.

Ejaz took the laundry down to the laundromat. Came back and said he wouldn’t have time to stay until the clothes had dried, but he’d put them in the dryer on his way out and collect them on his teatime call. He started updating the events happening on his computer for the Carer company.
I started cleaning some of the panel edges in the flats hallway. Ejaz came in and told me not to bend down! He will do that job. How? He hasn’t got the time to do the laundry, with him escorting me to and from the dentist. I keep trying to do too much out of frustration, cleaning-wise. How can one not try, as the flat gets grottier and grottier?
I thanked Ejaz, knuckled and off he went, using the goodbye I’d taught him of, Tara! He’s a good lad.

Got the computer on and readied CorelDraw for the photos I’d taken. None from the trip, due to the habit of my mind forgetting, neglecting to retain details, or wandering off track and into the ether.
ie, not taking the camera with me. 

Hope you can follow this: I struggled, hehe! I gave it 40 minutes and went down to collect the laundry from the dryer. The farce started…
I got into the room, and there were no clothes in either dryer. One washing machine held some clothes. But when I saw turquoise items in the machine, I rather stupidly jumped to the conclusion that they were not mine. Assuming that Ejaz had used the machines in the other block, Winwood Court, I traipsed with the trolley and collection bag. Out,  through Winwood Court to their laundry room. Nothing in any machine, all stood eerily quiet.  
Baffled, (that’s something I regularly become, some momentarily, others for days).
Back to the Woodthorpe Court launderette, and the machine with the washing in had stopped. And recognised the dressing gowns, in doudy grey and deep blue… It was my washing after all! The colours were some dishcloths I’d put in the bag. Tsk!
Then, I got them in the dryer. Went back up to the flat yet again. My lower back, left knee and ingrowing Toenail Topas were all giving me some stick now.

I did some bits on the blog, but the spirit was ailing. I gave up, realising that I’d be so far behind that I’d struggle to get it anywhere near finished.
Gave up the ghost and went down again to collect the dried washing. Another embarrassing moment here. I pressed the yellow open-door button, and nothing happened. As I recall, when you pressed this, the door would click and open on its own. Not this time. I asked 
a chap, who was sitting in the foyer, that I’d not seen for years, about my problem. He smiled, walked into the laundry room, and just tugged at the door, and it came open. Saying, “You’ve not done the washing for a while, have you? It stopped working about two years ago. Where’ve you been? I took it in good fun, as it was said. So lovely to meet people again.
The cost in pain was almost worth it.

Back up to the flat, and sorted out the washing.
Taking a snap of the only few minutes of the sun getting oart-way through the clouds akk day. I think it looks a little like the sea. Can you see it? Maybe not, looking at it now; it’s ten hours since I took it.
I got the laundry sorted, hung up, and folded away.
Starting with this Gahoule on the left. 
Joseph’s Coat I call it. It is mega-thin and used only in winter. The pocket has been ripped off. Both sleeves are coming apart. And the left-hand side split, which was three feet, is now four feet high. But pretty. Haha!
The bath towel; not sure if I’m breaking any rules here, I’ve not got a bath, a shower towel perhaps?
On the top of the airer, you can see half a pair of shoe-socks with a slip-proof soul… no, sole.
Its partner went for a wash and, like so many other people’s socks, was never seen again. Heartbreaking!
Khagoule, hooded, hung along the length of the hallway near the intercom paraphernalia.
This also has a torn-off pocket, hanging loose. Long sleeves with tears in both. But, although a lot dearer, is nice and snug-warm.
Which reminds me: the heater in the wet room isn’t working.
This gown was black when I bought it, about 2 years ago. Not now.
Beneath this faded Khagoule is a blue towelling dressing gown. One of the side pockets is missing. The other is hanging off. This one attracts anything wet to spill on it, anything; Weewee from the Catheter, gravy, mugs of tea, spring and mineral waters.

SUCH WONDERFUL COLORS!
I’ve made these a little bigger.
In the morning, the fog & mist returned

This rating should have been higher.
But the chips cooking was very poor,
He fell asleep eating, tray on the floor,
For Inchie, this is just sods law!

I end with two terriblephotos
of the week. Sorry, I did try.

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Thank eavens I got through today,
There were moments where I was happy gay,
A home would be better, even far away,
More Carer hours every day,
Would help, if I dare ask, even say,
Home or Extra Care, either way…
For me to find peace, before I decay.
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TTFN & Have A Jolly Good Day
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I think this Ode was rather silly!
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I woke a few times, with not the slightest interest or desire to stay awake or get out of bed. Just the same as for the previous six mornings. I can’t recall when I first woke up, but I think I was nodding & waking up many times. Then I recalled the food delivery was arriving between 7 and 8 this morning, and painfully forced myself to get out of bed. By the time I’d got the night bag freed from the day catheter bag and stood up to catch my balance, any memory of the upcoming delivery had vanished from my brain.
A little like when I take a photo, and that disappears from the SD card. Or I get ready for a delivery I knew was coming, and it doesn’t arrive. Or, I go to a drawer to get something I was positive I put in that drawer, a perfect example is the wired gutter-scrapers. I did, I know I did, put them in the drawer under the microwave. I’ve never found them yet; that happened about a month ago. Or else, the worst, getting a delivery I can’t even remember making! The most aggravating of them, I think, is typing the Ode, thinking of a fitting word for the next line, and then it goes AWOL from the cerebrum! I could write more such events, but I’d run out of bandwidth if I mentioned them all. Hehe! 

A high misty fog again.
I took the first shot from the kitchenette window.
Thought I had an eerie atmosphere about it?
Taking a shot through the closed window of the balcony, of the end car park, I noticed a lack of fog and mist, which puzzled me a bit. Mind you, a lot of things do.
A yellow-coated chap was walking his two dogs this morning, both bounding about, glad to be out.

I washed the dishes from last night’s feast when a text message arrived, reminding me that the Ocado order was on its way. Thank you! No time to get the ablutions done, I hope I can find time later.

The Ocado man arrived and soon shot off. I set to sorting the food…
Some more mineral waters and soda waters arrived. Not that I can remember ordering any, well, yes, the soda water.
Stilton cheese with one days life left on it, huh! Two days on the pork pie. Some lemon fools. Cavendish full milk. Pickled mushrooms, beetroot and Flora no-butter salted butter. Polish smoked Kielbasa. (Sauages, if Herr Starmer is reading this, it is not hostages!)
And a Milk Roll sliced loaf; my favourite after sourdough. This cost 95p a loaf in December; it is now at £1.50 for 400g. (I know this would not bother you, Herr Starmer, in the slightest, but I thought you may like to do something to bring down the cost of living…) What a waste of time asking him that.
Marinating and cooking sauces were topped up. Those Oxe ones are so expensive, but delicious.
Not a lot of food in the refridgerator I noticed. There will be in the mornings, after the Iceland order arrives. They will not provide extras, as Ocado did. They must have thought that I was going to use the biscuits in a dessert or cooking, cause every pack (4) of them had every biscuit broken. Marks & Sparks label as well! Have you seen their advert on the telly? No mention of anything arriving pre-broken or crushed in that advert. I didn’t order any tomatoes after the last delivery, and the ones that arrived were manky, mouldy, and crushed, with the same use-by date as when they arrived.

Blogged for a few hours and found messages, emailo forom my friend in the flats. Replied and thanked her. Then Carer Mizra arrived. A nice young chap. Medications, Phorpaoned the shoulder and back for me. Checked the catheter strap marks and barrier creamed underneath them.

I really must get the Ablutions done now; I’ll not wash the areas creams, salves, and Phorpain-gelled; they will only wash them off. Sticking with a stand up washed, teggie-cleaning, shaving, lower region and rear end cleaning and medicating.
Then apply the ear and eye drops, and aftershave to any cuts acquired. Barrier cream and Photpaon the knees… Ah, I must ask the Carer to change the catheter day bag as well. Putting it back on the left leg. I’ll see if I can remember to ask him.
Back in 1½ hours, or thereabouts.

I took this shot of the darkening, misty sky and got into the wet room with the needed equipment.
It took me about 1 hour 40 minutes, almost a new year record to get everything done and dusted… well, shaved, cleaned and medicated.
I seemed to have perked up a smidge, and handwashed some socks, hanging them to dry over the kitchen sink.
I did consider clearing the far end of the sink counter, but the spurt of enthusiasm suddenly died on me. No idea where it came from in the first place. It may have been Jenny emailing me, concerned about my predicament with the Ezetimide tablets. Yet the gloom did not worsen, and a visit from , certainly, helped. Although he didn’t stay for long either. But, nor did .
Not too bad a day, yet.

I turned on the oven to heat some oven chips and stayed with this blog a little longer. I took three Kodak-Tim-2 shots of the now blue sky.
Carer Ejaz arrived, Phorpained the shoulder and back. Medications given. And he checked the NHS site for Wednesday appointments with the Doctor. Dentist tomorrow, I’m crossing fingers.

I went to check the chips and realised I hadn’t turned the oven on. It could happen to anyone, and it made a change from me leaving the oven on. Hehe!
Turned the oven on and checked whether any messages had appeared on WP. There were dozens of them, with my site being so popular.
I replied to them both.

Part-eaten meal. Not bad!

TTFN
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I think this Ode was rather silly!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
I woke a few times, with not the slightest interest or desire to stay awake or get out of bed. Just the same as for the previous six mornings. I can’t recall when I first woke up, but I think I was nodding & waking up many times. Then I recalled the food delivery was arriving between 7 and 8 this morning, and painfully forced myself to get out of bed. By the time I’d got the night bag freed from the day catheter bag and stood up to catch my balance, any memory of the upcoming delivery had vanished from my brain.
A little like when I take a photo, and that disappears from the SD card. Or I get ready for a delivery I knew was coming, and it doesn’t arrive. Or, I go to a drawer to get something I was positive I put in that drawer, a perfect example is the wired gutter-scrapers. I did, I know I did, put them in the drawer under the microwave. I’ve never found them yet; that happened about a month ago. Or else, the worst, getting a delivery I can’t even remember making! The most aggravating of them, I think, is typing the Ode, thinking of a fitting word for the next line, and then it goes AWOL from the cerebrum! I could write more such events, but I’d run out of bandwidth if I mentioned them all. Hehe! 

A high misty fog again.
I took the first shot from the kitchenette window.
Thought I had an eerie atmosphere about it?
Taking a shot through the closed window of the balcony, of the end car park, I noticed a lack of fog and mist, which puzzled me a bit. Mind you, a lot of things do.
A yellow-coated chap was walking his two dogs this morning, both bounding about, glad to be out.

I washed the dishes from last night’s feast when a text message arrived, reminding me that the Ocado order was on its way. Thank you! No time to get the ablutions done, I hope I can find time later.

The Ocado man arrived and soon shot off. I set to sorting the food…
Some more mineral waters and soda waters arrived. Not that I can remember ordering any, well, yes, the soda water.
Stilton cheese with one days life left on it, huh! Two days on the pork pie. Some lemon fools. Cavendish full milk. Pickled mushrooms, beetroot and Flora no-butter salted butter. Polish smoked Kielbasa. (Sauages, if Herr Starmer is reading this, it is not hostages!)
And a Milk Roll sliced loaf; my favourite after sourdough. This cost 95p a loaf in December; it is now at £1.50 for 400g. (I know this would not bother you, Herr Starmer, in the slightest, but I thought you may like to do something to bring down the cost of living…) What a waste of time asking him that.
Marinating and cooking sauces were topped up. Those Oxe ones are so expensive, but delicious.
Not a lot of food in the refridgerator I noticed. There will be in the mornings, after the Iceland order arrives. They will not provide extras, as Ocado did. They must have thought that I was going to use the biscuits in a dessert or cooking, cause every pack (4) of them had every biscuit broken. Marks & Sparks label as well! Have you seen their advert on the telly? No mention of anything arriving pre-broken or crushed in that advert. I didn’t order any tomatoes after the last delivery, and the ones that arrived were manky, mouldy, and crushed, with the same use-by date as when they arrived.

Blogged for a few hours and found messages, emailo forom my friend in the flats. Replied and thanked her. Then Carer Mizra arrived. A nice young chap. Medications, Phorpaoned the shoulder and back for me. Checked the catheter strap marks and barrier creamed underneath them.

I really must get the Ablutions done now; I’ll not wash the areas creams, salves, and Phorpain-gelled; they will only wash them off. Sticking with a stand up washed, teggie-cleaning, shaving, lower region and rear end cleaning and medicating.
Then apply the ear and eye drops, and aftershave to any cuts acquired. Barrier cream and Photpaon the knees… Ah, I must ask the Carer to change the catheter day bag as well. Putting it back on the left leg. I’ll see if I can remember to ask him.
Back in 1½ hours, or thereabouts.

I took this shot of the darkening, misty sky and got into the wet room with the needed equipment.
It took me about 1 hour 40 minutes, almost a new year record to get everything done and dusted… well, shaved, cleaned and medicated.
I seemed to have perked up a smidge, and handwashed some socks, hanging them to dry over the kitchen sink.
I did consider clearing the far end of the sink counter, but the spurt of enthusiasm suddenly died on me. No idea where it came from in the first place. It may have been Jenny emailing me, concerned about my predicament with the Ezetimide tablets. Yet the gloom did not worsen, and a visit from , certainly, helped. Although he didn’t stay for long either. But, nor did .
Not too bad a day, yet.

I turned on the oven to heat some oven chips and stayed with this blog a little longer. I took three Kodak-Tim-2 shots of the now blue sky.
Carer Ejaz arrived, Phorpained the shoulder and back. Medications given. And he checked the NHS site for Wednesday appointments with the Doctor. Dentist tomorrow, I’m crossing fingers.

I went to check the chips and realised I hadn’t turned the oven on. It could happen to anyone, and it made a change from me leaving the oven on. Hehe!
Turned the oven on and checked whether any messages had appeared on WP. There were dozens of them, with my site being so popular.
I replied to them both.

Part-eaten meal. Not bad!

TTFN
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – Forgot to do the temperature – –
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The worst start to the day for months. Worrying at the time. So much so, I rang NHS 111 to ask about the possibility of my worsening habit of fighting to wake and get up each morning. And they thought as I did, that it may be due to the new medication side effects, Ezetimibe. The waking problems started after taking these tablets. Would it be a good idea to leave them out for a few days and see if my wake-ups improved? 
That was the plan, anyway, but when I had cleared my head and balance, I had to choose an option from the list the AI suggested. Then the voice rambled on about using the internet and giving out names and numbers… I gave up. More confused than before I rang them.
What a horrible start…
Overnight, I think I fell asleep early, ’cause I woke to the TV on and me in the £300 one, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, non-working recliner. The state of it when I got up shocked me. What the heck had I been doing? A seizure, maybe? Yet I felt as if I’d been in a deep sleep. What ere were and where did the marks on the arms come from? I’d got the catheter night bag fitted to the day bag, but couldn’t remember doing so. Then, in the waste bin, I found several empty Crisp & Frazzle bags.
I moved onto my blessed bed and nodded off almost instantly. I woke a few times, but fell back asleep every time posthaste.
At around 07OOhrs, I heard the intercom buzz, but just couldn’t get out of bed to respond. Lack of response from the body, a deep, distressing, unaccountable tiredness, and a vague dizziness had taken over.
Carer Ejaz came in and gave the medication as I lay on the bed. I’m not sure of anything else, but I do recall giving Ejaz a weak knuckle as he left. I was so confused. And again, he nodded off within minutes of his leaving. Waking a few times and then falling back asleep easily, I stayed in bed for about 5 more hours, making my kipping periods about 12-13 hours long! Each wake-up gave me a few seconds to ponder on what was happening and why.
I had hoped the need for the Porcelain Throne might arise and force me to get up. But, not yet.
Around midday, the intercom rang again. I’m not sure if I made it to the intercom. I was on the bed when Carer Mizra came in. I think I was mumbling more than talking to the lad. I’m sure Mizra helped me out of the bed, or maybe forced me, hehe! My mind and body were still reluctant move for some reason.
I got up on my feet thanks to Mizra’s help, and swiftly collapsed. Thank Heaven he was three feet away; he jumped into action, supporting me as I got into the computer chair. (I think it was). He gave me some painkillers, then did a body check while I was sitting down. Barrier creaming the groin, catheter strap area on the leg, and that annoying Shuddering Shoulder Shirley’s. right shoulder and Twitching Neck Nigel. Phorpain-Gelled Lower-Back-Pain-Petunia.
Again, this is from memory, so timings and actions might be out of sync. I was very slowly feeling less confused, thanks to Mizra’s patience.
As Mizra departed, I sensed things beginning to feel clearer. I did give Mizra the knuckles, weakly, mind.
My balance was as good as it is ever going to be, albeit a source of many tumbles.
An interest in life started return to me. I went into the kitchen to take a Kodak-Tim-2 snap, a snap, which should have been of the morning view, but took place at about 13:40hrs, what a time to get up. Haha! I can hardly believe it took so long, and I wondered why the Porcelain Throne urge was so late in coming.

Guess what I found in the kitchen, can you?
Last night’s cooked, untouched, or eaten microwave meal!

After my earlier failure to reach NHS 111, I tried their website to ask if I could stop taking Ezetimibe. After the postcode was provided, my age was guessed and given, and I was presented with a list of problems to choose from. My problem was not on the list to choose from. But sleeping problems were, so I decided that one. Answered 5 irrelevant questions.
I was told to see my Medical Practitioner.
I’ve got to get through the IT messages and options first, then I may get through to the Patient Assessor and convince him I do need to bother the Doctor, wait for more IT messages, like… You are 35th in the queue.

Got some potatoes in the oven.

Ejaz did the teatime call. He’d collected the monthly prescription on his way to me. Bless him. Sorted and stored them away. I mentioned it might be a good idea to leave off the nighttime Ezetibime for a few nights and see if my waking problems ease off. Then I’ll know it was those tablets that caused them. And can ask the Doctor to take them off my prescription list. A good idea, I asked, adding that I can’t cope with them anymore. This morning was horrible, and it lasted for at least eight hours of trying get out of bed. Then needed help to do so, before being saved from a tumble by the Carer when I collapsed. He said he had to give them to me. Yet once up and faux-about, slowly I regained control of my balance and the dizzies eased off.
Puzzling. But on the 11th February I’m going, with Ejaz, to the Doctors, if I can cope with the wicked getting-up process. I fear whatever the cause is, it may be something serious, but what the Hell.

The carpet had endless bits of stuff on it that needed picking up, but I forgot to ask Ejaz to help, and now they are smaller bits scattered about as I’ve trodden on them.

I Do Not Believe It!
The flipping, ]%£&*, rotten, ‘#@;ing,
catheter bag stop-valve opened of its own accord. I swore a little vociferously, spat, groaned, hexed myself, and did it all again! Two or three times. Then spent an hour cleaning myself and the carpet.

Checked on the spuds, very nearly ready. So, I cut them in half and added some no-butter butter and Leicester cheese. Put them back in the oven.
Oh. Forgot the seasalt. I’ll do it now. Added it.
While the cheese and onion added potatoes browned off back in the oven, I made a brew.

Boy, did they come out looking good! Tasted marvellous, too!
The bread in the middle had saletd sliced tomatoes and butterless butter in it. I shall have to get some more red onions, cause the one I covered in cheese tasted great!

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CHEERIO MON AMIS
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