I didn’t do a good job with my shot of the morning view. It looked right till I uploaded it. Tsk!
He started off last night.
I lost hours when this screen came up on the computer. I may have pressed something unintentionally, a combination? I’m always catching the Conrol, Windows or Alt button without sensing it. Not the foggiest what it was all about. I turned it off and rebooted; I could not type anything without all the text being highlighted? Anyone help me? Still, it came back on, but CorelDraw would not let me select anything. I had a sob, spat a bit, swore and turned it off again for ten minutes. Things seem to be working again???
The highlight of the day? I’ve just remembered I’m not to post photos of any Carers on here! So, I have removed it. So funny as well!
I got domestic help from Carer Kimberly. She cleaned the kitchen floor, then the wet room and floor, and, for her final task, hoovered the front room. Lovely! As she was putting the speedmop away, I suggested I take a photo of her doing it, like they do in the TV adverts. She was all for it and joked about her going for a model job, acting for Flash. I took two shots, and caught her action in whipping off the strip, just as on the TV. I loved having a laugh about it. I felt a part of things.
The Iceland order came. The only thing different or worth mentioning is they had no substitutes, and the bananas, a hand of five, only had one of them squashed and bruised. Very good! For them!
I spent hours and hours doing the blog again. The ups & downs of life… Like no longer having a wife, Depressed and suffering strife, I cut myself on the steak knife… The computer is giving me grief, My tender area was bleeding underneath, Also bleeding were my gums and teeth, Panicking, in need of relief… My bad luck beggars belief! My nose is running like a sieve! Life seems emotionally expensive, Sorry, I’m just being expressive! Sorry, it was a smidge intensive!
Amazing sky again, well, the clouds.
How did you do?
Noshtime! The photo I took of the stew had gone AWOL again from the SD card.
Once again, the wee-wee in the was not good a good colour.
I can’t say why I took two of the photos, but apparently I did so.
COMMENCED
First, a heavy-duty visit to the Throne was called for, so I sat on the Throne. It soon became apparent that was in full charge of this morning’s evacuation operation. I waited for what was obviously going to be a ginormous release to begin. I counted the cracks in the ceiling: 22. Is it funny how the total is different every time I count them? I could feel the solid torpedo as it crept agonisingly slowly and ever more painfully towards daylight. I got the crossword book and pencil from the floor cabinet and tried the puzzle. Blimey, I was doing well with it. Then the concrete torpedo started to come properly, still very slowly, making me winch at first. But at least it got out, more than yesterday’s two failed attempts. As the pain subsided, I was so glad it was not messy and needed a marathon cleaning job. I had to flush the thingy a few times, but it went down eventually, and I set about shaving. There were a few more nicks and cuts this time, but nothing bothersome. I realised I’d forgotten to call the dentist to get a toothpaste prescription, so I used an old-looking tube of paste that had not been thrown out. I don’t think that was a good idea. Eurgh! Leaving the wet room, it dawned on me how well I did with the crosswording and how clear-headed I felt compared to usual. As I went to get the kettle on for my brew of tasty Glengettie tea, I took this snap of the morning clouds in view from the kitchen. I felt appreciative of how with it, I felt. I decided to add at the end of yesterday’s blog my decision to cut back on the time it is taking me now. I can’t see, and the shakes are getting worse, which has always been expected. I had no problem finding the words needed and made far fewer mistakes than usual while doing it. In fact, a was engaged. Of course, I knew it would not last long, so I hastily got the computer on to write about my decision. Of course, now I have to prevent myself from looking a twit by actually cutting back on the thing I love doing! The thing that is keeping me going. This may not work, you know. I did tremendously well with my concentration. For the first time in ages, I felt I was achieving something on my own; that was my idea… of course, we’ll have to see how it goes. I’d got near the end and was about to read through it, and the Carer came in. I think I had him call last weekend. His name was Aliga. Nice chap. He remembered to remind me to take the Vit B12, the lad remembered from last week! I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on, though. Due to our waffling throwing me out of kilt. I realised after he was gone that this essential interruption had killed my bit of unexpected clarity of mind and semi-mental alertness. or . I imagine that after the lad had gone, I must have had a mind-blank or seizure because I had no idea what I was doing until chimed out four hours later. As far as I can tell, nothing had been done on the blog at all in those four hours? It was arriving. I was back in the land of confusion. Those few early hours were so pleasant, clear, and translucently appreciated. Will I ever get another one like it? I pray so. Kimberley was like fresh air when she arrived. She noticed that I was not wearing the diabetic socks; bless her, and she got them fitted first thing for me. ♥ . Medications were given, and we had a little natter. As she departed, I sat for a moment to try and identify the differences in my mind compared to earlier on. The worries, fretting, and depression in my state had all returned; they had never left in years, yet they did this morning. I’d like to solve the problem of finding out why I was so… well it must be happy and contented for those first few hours today. All a part of the “Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind?”, I suppose.
As I sat there, I felt the need to return to the Porcelain Throne. Thinking there would be no rush, I didn’t exactly respond immediately. That was a mistake, and I should have been aware of it with my changing evacuation state. I did not make it to the WC tub in time! I’d already been lifted by the early morning clarity of mind moments. Then lowered with disappointment when the worrying and fretting returned. Now, the embarrassment and shame joined in. Not to mention the washing and cleaning up needed afterwards. A 100% turn-around in my evacuations within an hour or so between the two visits. Life can be such a bugger, can’t it, when one gets older. This cloud shot on the right is possibly my best-of-the-month pareidoliaising photo. I took it through the kitchen window and had to stretch a bit to get it. Hence the external wall was caught in the shot on the left, which gave more of an impression of an angry cloud face in sky. Furrowed highbrows, eyes, and a magical nose. I thought it was great. Carer Aliyas has been, and he took a photo of the day bag on my leg for me.
Time to get some nosh. Vegetable soup will do me.
I spotted the short, sharp shower spots shimmering steadily down the window pane. I took a Kodak Tim snap of the raindrops falling down the windows. Then the rain stopped! Another selection of late shots, that are without doubt an absolute Pareidolians Delight.
I see several partially distorted faces, including one that is ‘Scream-like’. I also see a spaceship, a ghost, caves and caverns, and the moon’s surface area. Great! Oh, and I’ve just noticed a Scottie dog’s face, too! Middle photo.
I put the potato chunks in the oven. They baked up well, nice and crispy, just as I like them. This added a crunch to the soup. The soup. with its added can of garden peas.
Then, the bowl again, this time with the chunky baked potatoes added to the mixture. The gravy was made, and a splash of Worcester Sauce was also in there.
Well, I soon got that one scoffed away—too quickly, maybe, as then he started his imitation of imminent regurgitation & pains. I went to get the washing up done and found, to my amazement, that I’d left the It’s completely cold water now! That’s three times this week I’ve left the hot tap running. As Tim Price advised, I’m going to ask the Council if I can be allowed to buy auto-turn off taps and have them fitted. The bank manager might not like it. arrived, medicated me and took off my socks. I turned off the TV, and sorted getting into the bed. Not easy as things were laid out, so I moved some things a little to make more room for the Carers to get about. And more space for me to haul my legs up on the bed. Messy, but it had to be done. Moved the over be table in close, with a bottle of water, the torch and the mobile on it. Next, I toyed with the remote control for the bed movements. Not the easiest of things to read in the torchlight. But I had to turn the lights of and use the torch to get into it. I managed to get the top end lower, but now I have the end bit raised up wonder my knees. I’ll see how that goes.
Well, there were still plenty of hassles, worries, and mistakes made. There were many visits and stings from . I have never had so many during the day before on a single day. I am greedy! Hehehe!The Doctor’s surgery gave me a tinkle. To make an appointment for them to give me painkilling injections in the knees, to counter & . I’ll see if I can remember to tell them about the latest ailment craze from . She made an appointment for 09:40hrs on Thursday, 18th April. Same day as I was to be going to the Diabetes Course in Bulwell. Can’t win ’em all… Humph, I can’t win any! Haha! The replacement carpets ruined in the flood escapades arrived. I cleaned the wet room again, another mess made by yours truly, Inchy. The hallway carpet had not dried yet, so I went into the wet room, taking black bits from the carpet onto the floor! I decided to wash the bottoms of the slippers and dry them off well. Naturally, I got soapy water on the soft outers of the slipped and had to put them on the fairer to dry. Then, the need for the Throne arrived in a bit of a rush. I made more mess going in with my bare feet this time. Tried to use kitchen towels to clean it up, using my feet, but I couldn’t bend down far enough without suffering from the pain. And if I did get down, I’d probably not have been able to get up again! Then, trying to wash my feet, I got my plates of meat into the bowl alright, but at just the optimum time to cause me the worst degree of bother, as I was removing the dodgier right leg, prone to bursting into a wild dance of its own accord, I had a , and tipped the bowl over! Thus had to clean the place up again for the third time! I took the bag of rubbish and put it in the waste chute. ; not realising how early it was in the day. (approx 05:00hrs) I’m going to get it in the neck now; from those people, I might have woken up.Tsk! Finally, at long last, I set about having a shave (only one cut). I searched for the toothpaste. After a few minutes of failed investigation, I assumed it had dropped, and I’d taken it out in the waste bags. Arrgh! It was also the last of the prescription toothpaste. I think at one time, I believed I was still asleep and dreaming. The showering was okay… just one clouting of my head on the power box today. I got the medicationalisationing done. Amazing, I easily got the PPs on. No socks, of course, like a baby waiting for his nanny; the Carer will sort that out for me later. I got on the computer. Carer Kimberly arrived. Socks on, medications, a mini-natter, and laughter were enjoyed. There was a bit of mini-blank here. Hours later, the intercom rang out, and the first of the carpets arrived. Five minutes later, the second carpet (Well, rugs or mats, really). arrived. We spent a few minutes setting the world to rights. She seemed to have a sore throat. I hope she is not getting the dreaded lurgy. No idea why, but there must have been some logic in it somewhere; I made a J Sainsbury order for 14 days time. I think it may have been… no, no idea. I called back later and returned the borrowed bag of ‘s. I was pleased to be in a position to help some other tenant out with the loan. It makes a change from flooding them out, and guilt returns!
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Onwards to the photos. The urine in the night bag looked much darker when I viewed it with my admittedly poor eyes. The wet room farce was over. It looked good after three hours of mayhem and cleaning it up again… and again, and finally, once again this morning. Damned good job I couldn’t sleep and got up early. Not that the poor devils living in the twelve-floors below, would appreciate it with me using the darned waste chute that early in the day. Guilt again! This is the first picture of the view from the kitchenette that I took. The amazing blue hue was back again. Bootiful!
I forgot to tell you, when I was cleaning the wet room, I used the new lavatory brush. Can I get it back in its hub? I still can’t.
The day pouch was filling up swiftly today. However, it was getting darker as the say went on. It usually does the opposite. My first mug of Glengettie tea of the day. It really is the best I’ve ever tasted. Shame I’m only allowed two cups a day. (Sob!) The postman dropped my Anticoagulation results DVT, INR, and through the letter box. An increase in dosages. It’s a smidge low. The most amazing cloud formation this evening. Not unlike the news snippet above Mammatus clouds? I see so many things in these three pictures. I’ve put in this blog a little larger. I hope that my fellow bloggers, Tim Price and Paul, and any reader, can see what I did in them. Who is a Pareidolianist? The second mug of Glengettie was enjoyed while I was blogging away merrily. The authenticity of the last bit is dubious. Why the hell do I write so small? I know full well (at times) that my eyesight is crap, and I’ll not be able to read what I’ve written!
I got the smallest of the mats into the wet room. I decided this should be recorded for prosperity. Despite my shakes, I was determined to get a picture taken with the whole mat in it – I didn’t!
Carer Helen called, and medications were given. After I offered them, she took about 40 of my DVDs with her, as I cannot see or hear them nowadays. She’ll collect the others later. Great, a clear out at last.
Better get the nosh prepared… it’s nearly midnight. A tastier effort tonight. Well, this morning. (pork knuckle), Golonkowa, chips, a brown wholemeal baguette and a pot of naughty but so delicious lemon curd yoghourt.
I found it, but it took me 33 seconds. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN
I’m unsure what or who to blame for today’s lunchtime disaster. may have been the natural culprit, but she might well have been supported to a degree, possibly, by , or maybe I had a , or even might have had a visit? It was embarrassing, annoying, angering, and so frustrating. I felt worth about tuppence after Kara found the mess, and sorted it for me. I’ll explain about this cock-up come now, to get it out of the road that I was so humiliated with committing. Here goes, then…
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP OF THE YEAR! There I was, bashing away at blogging and catching up. Carer Kara called. She replaced the Catheter Day Pouch for me and got some socks on me. She emptied out what was left in the pouch and took it to the wet room for emptying, I heard her call, but did not know what it was she said… but the tone told me I was not going to like it. Simultaneously, my EQ told me I’d get into Schnook! I got , and I went with dread in my innards to the wet room. The completely flooded wet room! It was coming over the stop-ledge onto the hallway carpet! At one point, the word Tzunami came to mind! And there, in the midst of the man-made lake, the floor drain is not working because the shower has to be working for the drain to start. Kara bless her, got stuck into mopping up the flood and tipping; I think she said eight buckets of collected water in the WC. I’d left the damned hot water tap running again! Instantly, my self-esteem shrank to zero; I became self-conscious, unsettled, ashamed, humiliated, remorseful, contrite, and castigated, and this turned to embarrassingly feeling chastened, castigated, sheepish, and guilty all at once! I ran her Obergruppenfurheress to tell her what had happened and that she would be late for her next appointment. I can imagine what was said about this. My blameworthiness got worse now, but it got even worse minutes later. Obergruppenfürheress Warden Deana and Brigade Fürheress Warden Julie both arrived with worse news. Julies flat below was flooded! My self-recrimination didn’t really need any help by being told they may have to have me evicted. Even if she had a smile on her face. Hehehe! I asked if they would take my apologise to Julie with some nibbles and drinkies. Which they kindly agreed to for me. Kara was a treasure helping me out like she did. Thank you very kindly, gal! ♥ – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
According to my memory notepad, I got up at 05:30hrs. Just a few overnight. The problem was getting to sleep. I felt properly worn out as well, but Sweet Morpheus wasn’t letting me for an hour of more. Drifted off eventually. Not that it was planned, but I got the kitchen floor cleaned by using the Speed-mop. I wouldn’t use the mop and bucket, so as to save the hot water from running too cool, for when I planned this afternoon to have a jolly good wash and shaving session. (What with the later flood the hot water now being colder than the cold water, this did not happen. Huh!) Both cartilages were playing me up again. Carer Chris came, put on my socks, medicated me, and took the laundry down, telling me he’d bring it back up later when it was done. I thanked him profusely. Well, he’s a cheeky but nice bloke. I’m glad that Rishi didn’t stop him from getting in. Nearly missed this Kodak Tim photo I took when I was mopping the floor earlier. It was a good effort, but still pretty. Into the wet room to use the . But realised I’d left it there when I went in earlier. So I emptied the night bag. I gathered the waste bags into a large bag and placed them near the front door. Then, I went into the kitchen to see what I could have for a treat for tonight’s meal. Potato chunks, peas and lamb burgers seemed a good idea to me. Then again, me and good ideas don’t really go together, if you know what I’m saying. Cause I have the tremendous ability to misread, miss-see, and miss-hear at the same time. Not to mention having a seizure, mind-blank, or forgetting where, what, why or how I was doing anything at any time. The district nurse visited. Checking on the legs, weighed me, checked the acne. Removed the socks to see how the leg ulcers had got so much easier. The leaking legs had stopped altogether; she was impressed, she said. Then, she looked at my privates and was not pleased at all with the mess the catheter tube had caused down there. She noted that one goolie was larger than the other. I explained that about 6 months ago, it was the size of a grapefruit but had gone down without any medicationing being done to or on it. She said to feel them every day; if any growth is felt to the right testicle, I’ve to call the Clinic straight away. I thanked her and insisted she tales some nibbles and a drink in thanks.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP OF THE YEAR!
I won’t upset myself by repeating things.
Carer Chris returned the laundry, and I hung it up. Not the towels, I forgot to put them in the bag.
I tried to take a snap of the Ex-NHS bed adjuster controller that they kindly got for me, adjuster controller.
I’m not sure what happened, but I missed it completely. Maybe one of the cartilages gave way? This is happening so often today that I barely notice them unless they give all the way, of course. Then, I usually notice when I tumble to the floor. I tried again to get a picture and managed to get the one above. There are no instructions; it is all graphical. But I’m blown if I can understand it. I took this shot of the front car park, but with little interest, I’m afraid. I was feeling so low about flooding Julie’s and my wet room. I think I’ve said above that ‘Guilt’ is the overbearing sentiment. It suddenly went dark outside. This photo was taken on , and minutes later, the sun was coming through again? I started to get the things ready for making a meal. Washing the pots that had not been done earlier due to the Whoopsie with the damned hot water tap in the were room. I felt the catheter pouch pulling; boy, was it full and ready for emptying; the flow back when this happened gave me the sensation I used to get when I could manually pee. Hehehe! Off to the WC and drained it. When done, I forgot all about the washing up I had been doing and got back onto the computer and blogging. I spent around an hour or so on this and decided to make the second brew of permitted tea of the day. Off to the kitchenette, and… WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP Mark Two! I’d left the hot water tap running in the kitchen sink this time! All the same, emotions as I had after the first cock-up in the wet room. I got a nervous rash coming up this time, and for some reason, the Acne flared at the same time. I know this time it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the earlier one, but making the same error twice in a day is not only a record for me, but it lowered my interest and shattered any hopes for some mental improvement. Plus, my submitting to the wiles and rule of . But, of course, this meant the water was cold again, and it ruined my hopes of getting the shower and shaving for tonight. I must get up early in the morning and get it done. My EQ just laughed at me when I wrote this? Wonder what are the odds of me getting up early? It will be 2½ days since I had a shower or shave. So I’m dirty bodily, struggling emotionally and mentally. I must get up as soon as I wake up… oh, the wet room might need more cleaning after using… I wish I could stop thinking! I went to the wet room WC to empty the day pouch again. The urine smelt awful! What next should I moan and groan about? Sinking into a mild depression and giving up hopes and any chance of improvement, I concentrated on getting the meal to be cooked right and tasty at the same time. I tried to put my failures out of my mind for a while. I put some ready-made garlic potato cubes in the oven. I forget their name now. They have a bit of garlic and thyme in them – gorrit! Parmentier potatoes. (I looked them up on the web.)They needed 30 minutes to cook in the oven. So the oven was already heated with the tray in it, so I added the potatoes. (Hence the little burn mark on my right knuckle) Then back to save the work done and turn off the computer. 15 minutes for the tray of J. Sainsbury’s lamb & vegetable hotpot to do in the microwave. I was concentrating hard on getting things right, no idea why I bothered). Some of the tomato ketchup with pickle to zing it up a side, and the last brown baguette to soak up the gravy. Got it dished up on the tray, it looked fantastic. But the potatoes let it down. They had been in the oven for longer that the 30 minutes it said on the wrapper, 40 minutes at least, but they were still undercooked. Disappointing! Everything else was great. With the help of sploshes of the ketchup, I did eat all of the potatoes… well, I was hungry!
She called to deal with me. She took off my diabetic socks. Brrr! She medicationalised me. She listened to my moaning about the events of the day. Well, she almost did. I can’t remember what it was about, but I’m sure we had a laugh or two. Likely from my tales of woe today?
I can’t even see it in the revealing photo?
I don’t want a day like this again! It tested & tormented my brain, Mind you, it wasn’t mundane, Filled with emotional pain… Physical aches, language, profane! Depressions oddly, like a hurricane, I asked the Carer for Cocaine! Still, yer don’t like to complain!
04:30hrs: I bounded lively out of the second-hand ex-hospital bed, yodelling with joy, got down, and did 100 press-ups. This was followed by 100 toe touches and some shadow-boxing for around 15 minutes or so… I suppose you know that the above is tommyrot, and ? Well, the 04:30hrs bit is true. The truth? 04:30hrs; I was rudely awoken by giving me grief. I lay there after they’d stopped, all warm and snug. I decided to stay there for a while longer… But no! The innards then burst into a threateningly long, gassy rumble! No choice now; I had to get to the ASAP! Which took me a lot longer than it should have. Why? I’ll tell yer! Hehe! I stubbed my toe on the bed leg in my haste. I swore briefly. Then dropped the and the tube pulled and bled away, not to mention the pain (Oh, I did, sorry). As I neared the , it became obvious that I was not going to get there quick enough for me to get the dressing gown and pants down in time! ! Tore the pants getting them down, and lifted the dressing gown up – else I’d never have made it. The evacuation, well it was the worst ever session, ever. Especially with some of it getting splashed onto me, the bowl, the lid and the floor. And wasn’t a quick one either. I felt as if someone was turning a tap on and off in my innards! Then, of course, I had to clean the mess up, which took me about an hour, I think. Next, I medicationalised the tender areas. I olive-oiled ears, sprayed my eyes, and applied barrier cream. I Germolened and Germoloided the more delicate departments. I mopped the floor as a supposedly final gesture, not knowing I’d be back in there within minutes. Oh, yes, I’m so glad I haven’t passed on my genes and chronic luck to an offspring!
I made up the waste bags into one. And realised that I was still carrying the night pouch around with me. What an absolute plonker! As I was about to go into the wet room with the intention of emptying the pouch, it was a saviour that I was where I was just outside the wet room door; an evacuation started immediately of its own accord this time. It was a rush and semi-panic again, but I did get here in time. With all the cleaning up from these two Trotsky Terence visits, I had two tubes from the toilet rolls I’d just put in the bag, and I finished another one here! Leaving the wet room, I was aware of the dangers of my habit of walking into the doorframe, so kept my good eye on the spacing, clever that I thought… …I tripped, banging the side of my mouth. Naturally, for me, anyway, I found afterwards that , and I had another broken tooth. Extra Codeines taken.
and Gragnagles! I got the computer on and was using CorelDraw, but the delete button stopped working on the keyboard! Then, the mousse scroller went on strike as well. Being the confused creature I am, all I could think of doing was change the batteries in the keyboard and mouse, so I did. Nothing changed. A Dark, Dank Depression came over me. Also, I think I had a Seizure. When I came out of it, I was on the bed?
I nervously tackle the computer again. It seemed to be working, not the delete button, but the mouse at least scrolled. stayed with me ever since. And so did , for another bash on the Throne. Not so bad this time, mind you, but had the first visit been like this, I would not have appreciated how bad it wasn’t… anyone following this cause I’m struggling. Hehehe!.
Arrived. She was coughing a bit still. She was kind enough to check the dates on the stuff in the fridge, not that there’s much left in there other than opened sauce jars, visitors’ drinkies, and the pasty I’ll have tonight. Either I’ve lost the photo, or I’m going mad.
The wee-wee is not coming so fast today. And I’ve been trying to drink more after the farcical, ridiculous, losing battle I had in the wet room. Humph! Carer Kara came. Usual visit and Domestic today. I was so glad at last to get some help. The gal set to cleaning the kitchen and wet room; both were in need, too! Kara didn’t have time to do the Banking this visit. She’s a good gal. She said she’d look at something but couldn’t remember what. Tomorrow is when she calls. Bless her cotton socks. I realised that I had made an . I took this photo this morning and forgot to put it in. Better late than wotsit? Haha! I got some potato cubes from the freezer and got them sorted out, getting rid of those I could that had the dreaded eye roots in them. These were Sainsbury’s, too, not Asda (Walmart). They probably get them from the same place. A late afternoon shot taken at great risk of knocking over the knife block (I’ve nowhere safer to put it) or catching my finger closing the window. Haha! Very tasty! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had mind wanderings, felt out of it, and experienced memory loss. For most of the day, I was in mental confusion. There were no scribbled memory notes on the pad, apart from the date and getting up time (although I thought I had been doing them). Apart from Carer Joanne and I think Marie, then Christopher… even they may be wrong. I did go to bed early, I think. I’m afraid this is not much of a blog. I seem to have been in never-never-mind land for long periods, so I haven’t done any news snippets. Oh, Carer Chris pointed out that my clocks were showing the wrong time, an hour out, so I lost another hour. I’d forgotten to change them for the fifth year. Tsk! Sorry.
No recollection, but I took it, obviously.
Vaguely recall taking these from the kitchenette window of the miserable morning.
Must have intended to tell you a story of the medications, judging by this photo. Not the foggiest idea what, if anything happened. Although I woke with an aching ride shoulder this morning, so just maybe a tumble to doorframe charge?
I must have been in a rare with-it mode here.
I can’t remember prepping or cooking this nosh, but I noticed that I’d cleaned all the cooking utensils when taking the pots to be washed after eating it. No notepad, so no record of the score I gave it, but it went down well, that much I know. Haddock in batter, instant potato with cheese, tomatoes and garden peas. Ah, I remember now… Carer Chris had to help me with prepping the meal. I broke the can opener trying to get open the first can of peas. We found another can with a ring pull, that snapped off! Chris got the heavy-duty pliers bashed his way in, and peeled back the torn lid. Bits and pieces are coming back to me when I see some photos taken, others, I can’t even remember taking. Thanking you .
Not sure when I took this one. Nice, though.
Took this Kodak Tim shot after washing the pots after the mini feast.
I was sure I’d gotten into the second-hand bed to settle, but I woke up back in the £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. Then again, fantasy, reality, practicality, and mystery often merge together when I’m in this frustrating state of mind.
Shaving while standing in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to clean the feet, I could not reach, resulted in a cut-free session! I can’t say the same for teeth cleaning, cracked lips or nose. Oh, and of course, as per usual, , & were leaking the haemoglobin freely.
By the time I’d finished shaving and got myself disentangled from the Dettol-watered bowel, the floor in the wet room was a bloody mess. It reminded me of that bloodied thingy movie in the shower. Psycho, was it called? I used the water in the bowl and tipped it on the floor to brush it down the shower drain on the floor. But I forgot to turn the shower power on to make the drain work. Galore! ensued The first thing was to move the medical stuff away from the water. Naturally, the bending needed set off the final lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids bleeding again, just to add to the chaos, pain and increasing frustration that was building up inside me! Then I had to leave the wet room to get to the power switch to turn it on in the hallway… on exiting, I walked into the doorframe, which immediately brought Sweet to life. Crying was considered as an option. As was spitting, cursing and banging my head against the wall. Maybe wailing out as loud as I could… I’m not certain I didn’t actually do that, anyway?
I switched on the power box and hobbled back into the wet room. Gawd Struth! The place looked like an even bigger mess than earlier. The blood was sinking into everything it came in contact with; I just could not move it with the shower spray. So, more pain, I had to use the mop and bucket with bleach and Dettol in the water. But I finally got it looking better. Not properly clean, though. But the domestic help, which was once a week, for 3 weeks. No show for three weeks now. Then, I medicated the delicate areas again. And getting into the protection pants was a smidgen difficult.
She had stiffened up something awful with all the bending and movement she’d been forced into. Just getting the leg in the pants required the use of the picker-upperer, and some cunning tactics had to be employed with this task. I got my bum up against the sink and lowered the pants with the picker-upperer, I needed both hands, so I was taking a bit of a risk if the bum slipped, I was going to go down. The right hand helps lift the leg up high enough, and the left-hand uses the picker-upperer to guide the opening to the foot. On the fifth try, I got the leg in! I had to take a break to recover from the effort. Taking the photo here on the left. Phew! Then getting the left leg in, which was a lot easier in the pants. , was not in such a bad mood. Hehehe! At last, I got the PPs on and slippers on. Only to find out that they had gotten wet and bloodied during the Wet Room Rumble! Aching, hurting, wet, and somewhat peeved off, I checked the taps (faucet) were turned off… and needed another sitting on the . What a change! I cleaned things up yet again. Then, carefully avoiding any shoulder charges on the doorframe, I meandered out to the kitchenette. A thickish fog had descended all over Sherwood, probably further, too. Then I carefully limped to the main (other) room and to the balcony doors, to Kodak Tim the bog from there. It looked a little bit eerie with the blue hue. The Wet Room Farce cost me over 2½ hours, not to mention the pain, blood, and temper not doing my health very good! I didn’t recover properly from the episode. strangely, the tube inserted into poor , calmed down and was less bother for the rest of the day that it’s ever been? Puzzles me this; not complaining!
Sorted the bags out. A new carer arrived.
Made a brew, and started at long last on the blog.
Another new Carer arrived.
A long one! During this, two caregivers called, and I have no memory of them at all! I saw they had signed in the log. Work, albeit messy and error-prone, had been done on the blog. Also, on CorelDraw?
I took these Kodak Tim shots of the wonderful clouds in the slowly darkening sky.
The usual fatigue dawned on me; I’d already got some lamb burgers in the oven. So, I closed down the computer and made myself a much-needed meal. So glad I opted for the lamb.
The catheter day pouch colour was the lightest it’s ever been! But, an hour later when I was getting into the bed… yes the bed, not the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner. But the Social people donated an ex-used hospital bed! Initially, kicked off as I settled. Then I worried that I’d left the tap running when I washed the pots, so I got up to check on them, now realising how early I’d settled in the bed; it was not even fully dark out there. So, I got the oven tray I’d missed doing earlier and started to wash it. rang out, and in came Carer Richard. This, as it so often does, left me a smidge—what’s the word? Confused will do. After Richard left, and I was climbing back into the ex-NHS bed, I was in panic mode! Did I turn the taps off? I went to investigate-Cragknangles! The hot water had been left running and ran cold!
I’m hoping for a better day tomorrow!
Hard to believe, but I only managed to find two of them. Sad, innit! Hahaha!,
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‘s mass of flaked-off skin covered my spectacles, chest, and dressing gown, and left a reasonable deposit on the floor and £300 second-hand shop purchased, c1966, welt-causing, uncomfortable, not-working, itch-inspirational, crumb-containing recliner. kicked off the moment I moved my left leg. But her joint was utilised to help me bend down to clean up my exuviated skin. The pain and efforts resulted in many visits from , , and .
Carer Chris arrived; he did not put the socks on for me because I’d hoped to get the ablutioning done later today – I didn’t. Well, several of them. The day shot by, and I hadn’t even started this blog until Saturday (today). I flaked out far earlier than I usually do. Gave up, ate, and spent hours trying to get to sleep. were rampant. It’s as if they knew I’d drifted off. Sleep? Erm…what’s that then? Hehe!
I keep hoping the Doctor’s receptionist will call to arrange for me to see the medics. Then, if I remember, I can explain my problems to them.
This was likely the worst out-of-it day ever. Thank heavens, I took some pictures. I really cannot recall taking many of them.
I have to see the quack about this. Then again, as last time, a long time ago, when I told her of the situation, she seemed all calm and unconcerned. She mentioned that I’m getting older and have many problems, as do so many other elderly patients. It is to be expected. I almost apologised for mentioning my worries. Hahaha! She’s right, all the same.
Here’s the memory promoters via .
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – You’ll notice that no night bag was attached. This is due to my complicated, infected with brain; and, of course, dying. Maybe some effect from . Possibly in amalgamation with the failed operation, cleverly leaving me with double-vision, and some wonderfully uplifting new skills, like walking into door frames, tripping over unseen objects, and the latest, bending down and hitting left-open cupboard door corners when rushing to turn off hot water tap (faucet), that I so regularly leave to run cold. Hang on. That prompted me to check the taps now! No taps were running, and neither the hob nor the oven was left on… I closed the left-open fridge door! I am so glad I wrote this bit now. My food could have decayed! As I am. Hehehe! Where was I? Oh, yes, the urine nocturnal pouch I forgot to put on. Remembered to ask the last Carer to take off my socks last night.
The Iceland order arrived. The only good thing about the order. They had Heinz pickled Ketchup on special offer. Food! . A close-up of Harry Ramsden’s fish supper planned for tonight, well, tomorrow night’s feast.
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It was nowhere near as bad as yesterday’s. But coming around afterwards, it took me a long time to get into a condition where I could tackle checking the blog work. It didn’t help that I had made so many errors.
Fantastic, beautiful cloud shots.
The catheter pouch has filled much slower today. But the colour was much worse. Maybe a 5 on the NHS chart. I’ll ask a carer to check it from this photo for me later, which I did. Joanne said it was a class 6!
It’s getting dark now. After another hour or so on this blog, I felt weariness, so I gave up.
Back to the wet room.
Took this photo. I had a pareidoliaising feast with this one. I thought, can others see what I do in it. In the morning, I copied it in CorelDraw and doctored it with a lot more ‘contrast’, and what I could see became more explicit in the resulting picture. Can anyone see them? The teddy bear, ghost, face, or the animal? I love pareidoliaising.
Was the catheter pouch still a deep colour?
The late evening clouds seemed to be determined to come to the fore. You can imagine, methinks, what I saw at first with my left double-vision eye. Haha!
So weary now. I made a quick meal. The bland, pale, undercooked Iceland chicken legs, substituted for the not available thighs, tasted like cardboard would, I imagine. The Heinz beans were also unremarkable. The instant potatoes were very nice, especially with the Heinz pickle-flavoured ketchup.
Took this last shot of the sky. I was pleased with this one.
I managed to find five of them.
I’m yawning now. But once again, would Sweet Morpheous welcome me? NO! Heaven knows how long it took me to nod off. I had a couple of , which jumped me awake, but I soon nodded off again. I did well once I got off, about 6 hours or so. Gleaned by waking up a lot later than usual, at 05:00hrs.
Today, felt like it had lasted for three days or more! Yet I was so swamped, which usually makes the time pass quicker? The worrying early morning , the Asda delivery farce, Little Inchy, and the catheter tube painfully in disagreement all day long, and so many episodes meant this was not anywhere near a good day for Inchy! I’m sure I had one while Carer Kara was with me today. Because I was not getting what she was saying about the text, I was left more befuddled than before I asked for help. My blogging exploits are taking so much longer, with a first-time success rate of infinitesimally low. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Very early morning view.
Porcelain Throne evacuation failure. Not only no release but no answers to the crossword. Tsk!
I gave up, but within a minute of leaving the wet room, I hobbled hastily back, just in time. The delayed motion shot out as my bum hit the seat!
I got on with the blog catch-up. At about 06:00hrs, I thought I’d make myself a mug of tea.
WHOOPSIEDANGLEPLOP As I pottered about from the sink to the kettle back to the counter, I got the kettle on, went to the cupboard for the tea bag, took that and the mug to the kettle counter, and went to the fridge for the milk… I really thought my bad eyesight was fooling me at first when I dropped the spoon and looked down for it; there were trials of dripped blood all over the kitchen, some trodden on and smeared by my slippers. A closer inspection of the Little area revealed that blood was pouring out from near the catheter tube inserted, as it has been for over a year now in . I used many kitchen towel sheets over the next hour; yes, it took that long. It was steadily bleeding, started heavily, slowly getting less, until it seemed to stop of its own accord. All I did was go into a semi-panic and wipe it off with paper towels. I took a photo of the last few towels used. The first few were more red than white, so you can see how much it lessened to a trickle, running down the inside of my leg, onto the now, for some reason, between my leg and the swollen right testicle. No, the left one. I had considered pressing the alarm wristlet. But when I saw the blood getting less and less, I didn’t bother. I’ll ask the Carer to ring the community nurse’s place for me when she or he arrives. I cleaned up the kitchen and my body parts as best I could. Next, I was going to get a fresh pair of PPs Protection Pants) on. But what had happened in the kitchen that may have caused the problem dawned on me. I was taking the emptied catheter pouch with me as I went in and dropped it; I bent down to retrieve it rather sharpishly. That may have cracked the dried blood and allowed a follow-through? Hehe!
The Asda Delivery Arrived The delivery driver saw my predicament and took the food to the kitchen. Some were put on the floor near the sink… Some on the kettle shelf… The PPs on the cooker. Bags on the floor. Daffodils for the Carers on the draining board. These are from a carrier I placed for photographing. I got things sorted and put away, but I could only see one of the two ordered packs of PPs and no kitchen towel. I kept looking around, searching. The email said they had been sent. An hour and four look-arounds later, I found them. They were in the hallway near the door, on the floor behind Wally. I took one of these out, asking the Carer to help me get into them later. I wanted to avoid bending.
I took this snap of the later morning view. Carer Marie arrived, medicated me, and helped me with the PPs and diabetic socks. Bless her!
Hours were spent on this blog preparation, but it was slow going again. Grammarly, Accifauxpa-ridden.
Cara Kara arrived She called the District Nurses for me, and they will call today or tomorrow. She checked the catheter bags for me. Medications were given. She looked at the texts and emails. No action is needed. She will ring someone about something later in the week, but I can’t recall who or what it was about now.
Blogging.
The Landline Rang District nurse. I told her the bleeding had almost stopped and the pain, although still hurting, was far less than yesterday. They will not be calling on me now. If pain or bleeding gets worse, I’ve to phone them.
Started to make an early meal The usual tiredness and weariness fell on me extra early this Tuesday.
One of my betterer, more tasty efforts this one was. Lipsmackingly tasty!. A drop of Heinz tomato ketchup with pickle decorated the top of the folder. I do like this sauce!
Getting down in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibbling, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner, in search of Sweet Morpheus, initially failed. I tried the trick of putting the TV on to watch my favourite TV programme, ‘Heartbeat’. And it worked, and I went into bliss… Carer Chris arrived to wake me up, reluctantly, he said, with a big grin on his face. Hehe! Medication issues, nibbles and drinkies given, socks taken off. And off trotted Chris. Nice lad!
I had to get up to empty the . I took this view of the early evening sky as I did. Amazing cloud formation!
I made the last call of the day. I was so out of it with the blessed, deep, comforting sleep. I can see now why the lad removed the diabetic socks earlier: to let me sleep on without getting up. Good on him! He sprayed the eye spray on me, making sure I had to close my eyes first. Drinkie, nibble, and off.
I was soon back in the land of nod. I’m not sure I entirely left it anyway. Hehe! My next conscious moment, deep in slumber and dreaming of physically entwining with long-gone Lady Grizelda, Was when the began bursting out. There was no chance of any more sleep now, but I was well-pleased when I realised the time. I’d just had nine hours of sleep! Brilliant!
23:50hrs: Today was not one of my better days: not that I have any better days, of course. Just the odd one, less farcical or more confusing, the odd busy day, seizure day, Out-of-it day. Whoopsiedangleplop and or Accifauxpas days, or a mixture, would be a typical day for me. Today was dominated over all other ailments, but the sheer pain I’m still going through with the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… is more painful for longer periods than it has ever been. Standing up, sitting down, bending, stretching, and hobbling is all agony. Honestly, I’m sitting here typing this, and the stinging pains from Little Inchy are atrocious. I am going to take extra Codeines now; it’s the only thing that touches the pain relief.
I’d risked taking off the PPs in hopes that there would be less irritation pulling on Little Inchie, but the pain just carries on the same. Now, all I want is for the fungal lesion to start bleeding, and I’ll have the right bloody mess to contend with and sort out.
I’d better start the Diary.
04:00hrs: I woke full of life, contented and joyfully… Lying Git!
Urine is even darker.
This is a terrible Kodak Tim kitchen view effort from Inchy. He tried two more, but they were worse. Haha!
Carer Richard arrived. Again, I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on. Tsk!
While starting the blog off, out of the blue, the pain from Little Inchie and the point of the tube entering kicked off. No matter what I tried, the pain persisted. Even took some extra Codeine and Paracetamol, but no effect! It was so bad this time, and persistent with it. Later, I took the PPs off, but it made no difference. It’s wearing me down.
End car park view.
Blogging not going well at all. Concentration crap, and feeling a smidgen sorry for missen.
Carer Selina arrived. She was on a domestic call but didn’t have time to do the hoovering or mopping up, which was all I needed. She insisted on helping me get a wash, shave, etc. It was embarrassing in the extreme. But she was good at the job and knew where and when I needed help, particularly in the getting dressed stage.
I medicated, got the dressing gown on, and she put on the diabetic socks for me. I thank her. Selena took the laundry down for me. Bless her.
Unbelievably, early in the afternoon, the pains still haggling at me, I felt the daily weariness dawn on me again. I made a meal, intending to get some sleep in afterwards.
Carer Marie arrived. She was a little better with her coughing today. I called it the Lurgie, and she said it was called the ’30-Day Cough’. I bet that’s what Sister Jane has got? Marie was still not herself; well, she was. What I meant was she wasn’t her usual bubbly self. But we managed a natter laugh as she tended to me.
I settled in the £300 second-hand shop bought in 1966. Moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibbling, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner, in search of sleep.
Forgetting all about the chips in the oven!
However, I found Sweet Morpheus within minutes. It was bliss… Then Carer Christopher arrived to wake me up. He attached the night pouch, and off he went, all without turning the light on, thoughtful that was. As he was about to leave… … I detected the smell of the burning oven chips! Got up and struggled with the pain from Little Inchie and carrying the night bag to the kitchen. . Too well burnt even for me! I checked each one and rescued three of them to have itch the meal. I substituted some potato chips from a packet and put them on with the three rescued chips. .
The low taste rating was due to the sickly sweet frankfurters I’d bought. Urgh!
I soon polished off fodder, not the frankfurters, though.
I washed the pots, settling down again after getting some sleep. Arrived and immediately noticed the pain I was in. He called someone and told me they thought it might be just an infection. Someone will call to look at it tomorrow. (We’ll see) Kind of him to bother.
Surprisingly, I eventually found sleep. About three hours later, my alarm started. This put an end to any chance of further sleep. I rose, not a little confused as to what time and day it might have been (23:40 hrs).
Nearly falling over the forgotten, I’d got a night bag on the way to the wet room. A bit messy.
I returned to the main room and realised I’d left the nocturnal pouch in the wet room, then emptied it.
I made up the waste bags into one large green one, and although I felt vague, the pains from Littler Inchie seemed less severe. Keep your fingers crossed!
