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Today was filled with terrible commotion,
Before it started, I was in a state of confusion,
A stampede of furore, causing profanation,
I was left depressed and in delirium…
Here follows my sad, uneducated explanation!
I managed to sleep 10 minutes overnight, but I was tired out, and getting up was a fight. The urine in the catheter stunk something awful. I visited the
wet room W.C., which was controlled by Terence Trosky. One after another, each of the almost square-shaped torpedoes got stuck partway to freedom. I thought this evacuation was somewhat incongruous. (is that the right word?) It was certainly incompatible with Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Made them bleed and gave me some discomfort as well. It’s when they get stuck halfway out that’s the worst bit. Haha!
Initially I was doing well on the blogging graphics. The Kodak seemed to be storing the snaps I’d taken, and as I knew that Carer Cara would call today to sort the Banking and British Gas problems for me, I changed the delivery dates for the Low-Cost Food and Morrisons food deliveries to arrive on Friday instead. Apart from the eyes which were not good, but when are they since I had the failed Cataract operation. I’ve gone back to the start of the waiting list to have them done again. So they can’t do the Glaucoma lasering until they have been done successfully. I don’t think I’ll live long enough to. I was on the waiting list last time for over two-and-a-half years. Humph!
Carer Shaquille arrived, got the socks onto my feet, medicated me, and I insisted he took some nibbles with him.
As I was taking this photo, which I put on here, 22hrs later), the door buzzer buzzed. (It does that. I notice these things!), Hehehe!
The Low-Cost Food delivery I’d altered obviously hadn’t been altered because it had just arrived. This was the start of a series of worrying, frustrating,
time-consuming, and unproductive times. It took me ages to unload the boxes and the paper stuffing within them. I topped up the shelves with what had been delivered for the carers and nurses’ drinks and treats. Then, I did the same to the nibbles box on the carers’ table. I got some new lines in today. A white chocolate milky bar was one.
I got the cardboard and paper into a box.
Then I got back to blogging, but not for long! Carer Kara arrived, and she sorted out the Bank Problem easily enough. (It was still a bit of a shock, though, how my balance was dwindling.) But the British Gas problems took the gal all the rest of the hour she had, and we still didn’t have time to ask about the meter reading. I’d never have got it sorted without Kara’s help. She found a contact telephone number from the web, when the link would not work for her. Three times, Kara got the ‘music-while-you-wait’ treatment. Then had to be put through to someone else. Had to go through all the checks again. The man, said Kara, didn’t seem to know what she was talking about. But she had the email on my computer and letters to refer to in her discussions. Finally, the man said the original email was sent to me in error. How? They have my address, email, etc. Kara did not have time to ask them about the meter reading emails. An hour on my phone, wonder how much that is going to cost me? Basically the message come answer was not to worry, ignore them? Thanks, Kara!
Yet another
on my behalf! Over the dates. The quack thinks my arithmaphobia is all part and parcel of the FND. Could well be; we may see.
I got the delivery bags opened one or two at a time, and took these photos on the left. Well, I took more, but some did not make it to the Kodak SD card. Sob!
Next weeks, as should have been, Carers & Nurses treats. Jellies, Crisps, Marmite oatcakes. Fresh pod peas. (They didn’t last for long, Yummy!)
Some red and white potatoes for baking, tomatoes and waste bags were put away… wherever I could cram them, really. Tsk! A ready-sliced milk roll loaf and two extra-large Jumbo Haddock chip shop-style battered fishcakes. May have them tonight. Got them in the freezer. I Stopped everything at this point, to shell some of the pod peas for later on.
A mug ot Thompson’s Punjana tea, that went down well. I was a good lad today, despite the piteousness of my actions and getting things so wrong, and being further behind with the flog that I’ve ever been; and in a cruel depression and so confused, I only had one mug of tea all day and night! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
I was giving up on the blog as I was getting so tired, and the Dettol order arrived. Ehicj, they indicated it would be coming on Friday! There’s no end to the confusion, cock-ups, errors, depressions, and sinking spirits!
Tonight’s feast (Albeit while burning my finger again on the oven rack) was prepared. Potato Rostis, battered fishcakes, Fresh pod peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, and chestnut mushrooms.
I got settled into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, smelly, cringingly-beige-coloured, almost-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. With the meal on a plate and tray, feet up on a chair, and a football match on the box, I’d finished of eating the meal, and then I got the pots washed. I took five snaps over the next half an hour, and only the first and last two made it onto the SD card.
I sense that I may have already used this one?
Believe it or not, but, I didn’t get any sleep again. The Thought Storms, mostly self-lambasting over the dates that I’d mix up.
No, that’s not true.
I did get the odd couple of minutes, but I was promptly woken up by
and or else
.
I got up again to try to get some decent shots of the beautiful night’s view over the next hour or so. I might as well; Sweet Morpheus was not interested, and my mind was going crazy.
Not one of my better days.
And I’m already hours behind on the morning blog. Bet I can’t get started until midnight or later tomorrow. Or whenever… I’m losing track of things here. Which is nowt, new.
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What a Day. Claptickleisations & Gragnangles!
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