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PART ONE⅝
On my last visit to the Porcelain Throne,
Bleeding from my rear bottom, I’m prone…
No Carer called this morning, I was all alone,
Missed taking my Beta-blocker, Betamethasone,
I pondered on this while I was abluting…
But had to get on with my shaving,
It’s New Year’s Day, a Carer will soon be calling,
It takes time to recover from over-boozing,
Twitching-Neck-Ted, hurt my collarbone…
I can take Codeines while all alone,
But not the Beta blockers, or Prednisone,
I can rub in the cream, Hydrocortisone,
Phorpain & barrier cream on my private’s zone,
Can’t take the Finasteride, or Atorvastatin,
Omeprazole, Carers watch me taking,
Yes, the Carer will soon be appearing…
My Carer, who came at noon, was very caring…
But this is not unusual or over-alarming,
Covering holidays is difficult & frustrating,
Ailments? Parts of me were pulsating & shaking,
The worst is the pain near the breastbone,
That’s why I took a Betamethasone,
But the toothache was barely aching!
Electric Shock Sheida; hardly any stinging,
My vision was hampered by Gladys Glaucoma,
Moving chest pains, I blame them on Anne Gyna,
I had cramps, Little Inchie was bleeding,
Oh, I must take my Amoxicillin!
PART TWO¾
I wondered if Starmer is still lying & cheating?
Would he ever stop his backsheeshing?
I heard him blaming Tories, badmouthing…
He’s certainly not appealing, just appalling,
After fringe benefits, influence-peddling,
Schmears, kickbacks, open fiddling!
Bribes, sweeteners, is anyone checking?
On his hush-money & bung investing?
See his expenses for number crunching?
So often, the Oligarch’s been caught lying,
He’s like a Tory, I’m not guessing…
Pensioners & farmers will be dying…
He’ll be denying blame for the bloodletting,
He makes time for self-wealth searching…
He is an overblown urchin!
A snotbag, Grade-1. But I’m fibbing,
His habit of voters & union disregarding…
It will make proletariats’ life more gruelling!
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PART THREE⅘th
I begged guidance from those in the tabernacle,
Why did I fail? In things mental & physical?
I once found life was easy, enjoyable, a doddle,
Now, at nearly 80, there’s no one to cuddle…
I was genuine and loved being charitable,
PN, Arthritis, Cramps made me xenarthral,
Dementia, memory, seizures are awful,
Now, I find life is inexplicable, theoretical,
I loved a natter, gossip or twattle…
Seeing and hearing can be a battle,
Daily complications with my catheter tackle,
I can no longer voluntarily piddle,
My aorta valve is made of plastic & metal…
I feel as if I do not fit in anything tellural,
Success is no longer there or accomplishable,
Depressions are now giving me trouble,
Around 1969, life burst my bubble…
I don’t exactly walk; it is more of a hobble,
I was theistical, but it is now there’s so little,
Confusion, delusion, constant refusal…
Lies, murders, killings, wars, tarradiddle,
With Herr Killer Starmer on the fiddle!
Every nation’s decisions are incomprehensible…
to each other, and inscrutable, dubitable,
Earth’s leaders, moraless, in a shemozzle,
Oligarchs, criminals so sybaritical,
I’ve become a loser and comical…
Old age is the sum of a riddle!
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I grafted to catch up on the blog mess after getting to bed around 0400hrs THIS morning. I got my head down for three hours and had to get up for the Carer to arrive.
No Carer Arrived. Had to guess at the medications because I’ve not sorted them myself for many months. Also, I can no longer read the label instructions of the writing in the carer record book. I Pottered about not getting onto the computer because I may not have heard if the intercom went off if I had. So, I’ve had two missed calls on the trot! And had to gamble with the medications. I’ll know later if I got them wrong. Tsk!
A quickie blog from here on, as it is now 2100hrs, and I’ve to do the ablutions yet and get summat to eat. It’ll be morning again before I get to sleep. I’ll rush.
It’s not been a good year up to now.
.
Release valveless nocturnal pouch.
Waste bins sorted.
Reet rainin’ this mornin’.
Phor!
End car park mudslide.
No Carer arrived, which is the same as last night.
Essential to get the medications right.
But I could not read the labels.
Topped up the Nurses’ and carers’ treat
box of nibbles. Wonder if I’ll ever see a
Carer again. Hehehe!
I made a brew, then changed the clock calendar and got it on the computer to make a belated start on the blog.
I found two snaps that I took last night and forgot to put the SD card into the camera. Better late than never.
At midday, Carer Chloe arrived. I explained that the last two Carer calls were not made last night and this morning. Well, New Year Booze, Mayhap? Har-Har!
Kicked off.
Thankfully, I had some pain spray for the teeth.
It does ease things a bit.
Teatime views.
I’d spent a lot of time doing the odes at the top.
And got little else done for hours.
Carer Promise arrived. Medications given.
The legs looked better than yesterday.
I’ll not mention the fungal lesion that’s being
tugged at by the catheter tube bleeding.
Oh, I did! Hehehe!
A better shot of Devonshire Avenue.
It seems to be well-lit compared
to the other roads?
Nosh-Time now.
I regret to inform you that, once again, the picture taken of the cheesy potato, mushrooms and garden peas meal has done a bunk from Kodak’s SD card.
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TTFN
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03:00hrs: I burst into violent wakefulness. With, or due to, hypnagogic jerking, hypnic myoclonic, involuntary twitching, shaking, and jolting. Even the teeth were jarring, and eyelids were blinking away crazily! My left leg slipped off of the resting chair, and my ankle papule hit the standing seat leg, and the fluid poured out. Over my foot, the quilt, and the carpet.
working, recliner, to clean things up. Took a shot of the nocturnal Catheter bag first
As I looked at the bed awaiting its safety bar to be fitted, I swear I moved! Oh course, I suppose it didn’t, really. The eyes are bad again this morning. Due, 
I think to 
and or 
? 
cleaning cloth to sort out the mess, and I noticed how, within a minute or two, the change to the scene on view. (on the left)
papule’s liquid escapages. Ended up with a fair bit of bother from 
from the bending down to clean up.
!
This time it was for a longer period. 
I popped out onto the balcony first, to see what the situation was with the end car park’s mudslide.
it was getting lighter, but still raining a bit. About ten more minutes. As I toyed with salvaging some potatoes
It had lightened quickly and I got a decentish photograph taken of the end mudslide scene. 
n, then off again.
Porcelain Throne again. 
I took another of the Galpharm capsules, just to be on the safe side after the visit to the wet room was finished.
The north side view had turned to a blue/red hue. Well, it would do… But I don’t know why, do you? Then I closed the window, cutting my finger on the spring clip screw. Poetic, if nothing else… Hehe!
Off to the wet room for the third time.
The 
landline, that was so kindly killed off by the infamous number-crunching, mumbo-jumbo, slithery-sidestepping, hocus-pocus, Oligarchs of 
, and the none-working Severe-Frailty-Sufferers Emergency Panic
Alarm 
in getting the meal prepared for myself tonight. Although a rescue attempt was fairly successful, as you can see in the photo here on the right. The flavour rating was 7.6/10.
spot on target..
I thought the day was going too well compared to how the previous 1,525 days had gone. Luckily it 
did not bother me in the slightest. 
Possibly? Perhaps. Maybe…
I washed the pots and had a Yodel doing so. I heard a tapping noise from the flat above, so, I stopped the yodelling straight away.
I closed the computer. Cursed, and had to visit 
no.10 to the Porcelain Throne.
did the last call. A nice young lad. He took this snap of the right leg after he removed the ankle and leg strapping, then the diabetic socks for me. Oh, the wanting to scratch at the itching from both legs and feet drove me mad! I knew if I did, without any doubts, 
s geyser papules would start 
bleeding and leaking fluid. His laughter at my plight helped me resist doing so, but it wasn’t easy. He put the strappings and socks in the laundry bag for me. 
Through my Old kitchen windows during work.
Woodthorpe Court.
Balcony building in progress.
Hoists used by the builders up the flats.
End car park area.
Replastering near the balcony window.
Windwood Court right, Woodthorpe left.
Chestnut Way.
Winwood Court.
Front of Woodthorpe.
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… well, 
, and at the same time, I knocked the milk off of the counter and hit my elbow trying to catch it from falling on the floor. I missed, and a splattering of milk was spilt. Bent down to wipe it up before it got sticky, and that set off. Not that it bothered me, of course. 
both stinging away at me… but not for long, oh, no. As I lowered the left leg carefully, It was undoubtedly 
failing that caused the heavily bandaged leg to clunk onto the floor. 
, followed by a few quietly emitted oaths and curses, as I hit my 
against the leg stanchion on the chair. 
Germolene from the ottoman, rubbed some in the left knee, and rubbed it in well for a while. The knee was a little larger than when I got my head down last night after 
doing the same thing, rubbing in the ointment. Took off the 
, and grabbed 
, to take this photo of the colouring. Which was not too bad at all.
I gently raised my elephantine body up on its dodgy knees, leg ulcers, 
in both, to catch my balance… I don’t know why I’m not in hospital. Hahaha! Grabbed 
the wooden walking stick, and hobbled into the kitchen to get the kettle on. Where I took these three-morning view photographs – Gawd! They came out worse than yesterday’s were? What’s the opposite of smug-mode-engaged? I’ve just looked up an antonym… and made a tab to use; 
!
Yet another photo that I either can’t remember taking or, took without realising that I’d taken it.
Eventually, I got the first of the two permitted brews of tea made. Thompson’s Punjana this time.
Sorted out the waste bags, and got them into one large one.
Took it to the front door to be collected by the Carer at a later time.
Then got the daily doses, dosed, and the ointments, cream applications, and medications tackled. Ear drops, eye drops, and eye-cleaning sorted.
Washed the Jenny-Donated mugs ready for the second brew, possibly Glengettie in the afternoon/evening.
Off to the wet room for the first 
duties.
The 
man told her the bag was to be changed every month. This left me feeling confused. I felt sure that Kara checked every week to check and see if the day-pouch had been changed? convinced me that I’d got it wrong again. I apologised to 
for getting things mixed up. A lovely gal. I think I’m losing it worse than usual? I’d have put money on it that I was right, and it should be weekly, and the dried blood from 
backed me up. 
Galore on the blogging, so I gave it up and did some sorting in the spare room. No lifting or bending, though, as per the instructions and recommendations from Sarah of the Falls & Rehabilitations Team. More bags to go. Back to the mistake ridden-ever correcting the blogging.
. Another nice gal. We managed a little natter, leg-pulling and laugh. During which I explained my earlier 
was changed every week… And she said I was right! 
case. Then, a month trial on Finasteride tablets to try and reduce the size of the prostate as a last gasp-chance, and if this does not work, a permanent catheter will have to be fitted. The month trial turned into a 6-month trial; no passing, but still on the Finasteride even now! No signs of any permanent catheter being fitted either. This seemed a logical conclusion to me, and Joanne. We both wondered if they were waiting for me to snuff it. Save them the expensive operation? Won’t keep them long. Hahaha!
I selected the lesser bruised potatoes and put them in the oven tray for baking later. It turned out to be ten hours later as it happened. Tsk!
A snack, a treat, was the next thing I made. Two mini butter croissants, with some naughty lemon curd in a side dish for dipping them into, and the final mug of Glengettie for the day.
As I took this snap of the beautiful sky…
I thought of Mother Nature, and far beyond the sky…
What a fantastic, beautiful display of clouds in the sky this afternoon.
The blogging was not very productive now. Feeling tired and weary. Thus, even more cock-ups and mistakes were being made as I pressed on regardless. I cheated on my two mugs of tea a day… and made a third one. Naughty? Yes! In mitigation, it was not intentional then, as 
fooled me. But by the time I’d sat at the computer to drink it… the Memory returned and guilt flowed. I thought, well, I’m not throwing it away now, and drank it gladly! I didn’t realise how long it took to make so many errors on the blog! 
Nightie-Night Sunshine!
Made a start emptying the potato husks into the mixing bowl, with some delightful Leicester Cheese to taste. 
droppages or spillages. Flesh back in the halved husks, with sea salt and not butter, butter. Forked the tops to aid with crisping while cooking. And into the oven on 220° 
heat, and back to close the computer down. Then, I got the dirty pots I’d made washed with my not-so-secret method: I’d put the dishes in the bowl, 
washing up liquid added, and as the hot water filled the bowl, most of the bits of burnt cheese floated up and out of the bowl into the sink! A tip here: if you try this, make sure you run plenty of cold water around any metal bits in the sink cause it stains it rotten! 
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But the new spectacles are not up to scratch – Mind you, I have already scratched the lens on them. Cognitive Impairment Iris, the water geyser on the right leg has had to be bandaged… by me, what a mess I made of it. Little Inchie is giving nearly as much pain as Back-Pain-Brenda is! Plus, Concentration Konrad is along with all of these, making it hard work! Can’t hear very well either. Humph!
Such a bad day for me. Worst in a long time. 
Great colour in the nocturnal catheter night bag.
Off to the Porcelain Throne…
This procedure was repeated five or six times over the day. With the same result!
The toes remain in a two-tone shade.
Sorted the evening bags out.
He cheered me up a smidgeon. I took his photo as he was preparing to give me the Maxitrol Eye Drops. Note how he keeps the light bulb covered as he puts them in for me? 
Feeling a little perked up now, I took his Bloof Pressure etc. and put it in the NHS thingamajig. After the lad had gone, I inputted it, with excellent results coming back. Insisted he takes a drinkie & nibbles in thanks for his kindness.
slipped and I nearly went over, clouted my knuckles on the corner of the sink, and at the same time felt wet dripping on my right foot. My immediate thought was that the retaining clip on the catheter must have opened… Then it dawned on me, the 
was now on my left leg?
Oh, ‘ecky thump!.
Uncertain about how to go with applying the coverings, I pressed on and hoped for the best. (Hoped for the best? Me? Hehehe!)
I recognised now what the bits of white on the kitchen floor were; I think they were skin.
Dizzy Dennis & Back-Pain-Brenda visited me, due to my breaking my strict instructions for the Falls Lady Sarah. As KI had no choice but to bend down to reach the lesion. It felt okay, and I was sure the flow had stopped within minutes of putting on my Heath Robinson medications.
Then noticed a new bruise on my other leg. Due mayhap, to my banging it on the cabinet as I stopped myself tumbling?
The agony never stops for muggings here. By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen floor and mess, I found myself apologising to Back-Pain-Brenda… as if that was going to stop her hurting? Tsk!.
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The gentleman from the opticians called on the landline. He was at the flats. I told him to ring 72 on the panel, and I could admit him. He rings on the panel, but only for a few seconds, then stopped… The telephone rang again, I asked if he had got the right one of the three courts; he said yes. I went down painfully to the front door lobby in my dressing gown but saw no one. I returned to the flat in case he was up there… The landline rang again, and it transpired that he was at flat 12, not 72.
Carer Joanne arrived. I thanked her for fetching the spectacles for me yesterday; bless her. 
Waste Bags Gathered.
Taken during the ablutions.
Carer Chris this morning. Looking broody? Hehehe!
The age-old Bathroom Foam spray!
Puffer clouds getting thicker now.
The glasses from which the optician chose a frame that should be capable of new lens fitted.
Clouds getting thicker still.
A bit of a mini-mudslide, I don’t recall it raining?
Ah, thicker than ever now, but beautiful!
They may take me some getting used to.
Well buttered with the tasty none-butter butter, and sea salt, with some mini-tomatoes, and a strawberry dessert.
First one.
An hour or so later…
The last one.
, or I was in the middle of a
I think the average cuts acquired when shaving would average around 4. I’m as bald as a badger on my head, yet hair grows behind my ear holes and neck?
I have acquired a habit lately of bashing my head on the way down. Usually on the sharp corner of a counter or ledge. With the odd few that have left me unconscious. The last one, when the leg lost all neurotransmitters sensation, I twisted and landed on my back – not sure if I blanked out for a few seconds… As I regained a modicum of reality, the Nottingham Home Alarm Monitor Control lady talked to me over the alarm box. Her voice sounded slightly panicky, and communication was even worse this time
Does Not Go Down
But, this, of course, is an impossibility!
was many months ago. Since then the
have had a 100% daily failure rating.
Today, they cocked it up five times in 2 hours!
The tin opener is the biggest offender.
Naturally, these events usually are down to one of these…
.
.
or
falling down.
But, a rare event!
Like the photo above, sometimes caused by a shaving behind the lughole’s error. Occasionally at their own behest, for which I have had tests… blood all over my vest…
Which, of course, is one for the coming future,
They usually come out smelling atrocious…
Tomatoes, chips, peas & battered chicken,
I get it wrong again and again!
To my days with Grizelda ♥
Further back to memories of Mother…
Last week with Deanna.
A nice gal I met in the USA. I forget her name…
Waiting for a job interview as Team Motivator to start.
Memories of my first car.
My walk in the Royal Maze, Liverpool,
I was happy after I got the message through to me…
Happy memories of bath time – 1959, revisited in 1969!
I just returned from the hospital after the six-week Nottingham Residential Home stay. And proudly made my first meal for me in well over three months… weeks. Burnt my hand on the oven shelf. Happily, I learned my 
Sister Jane escorted me back home after the cancer operation at the QMC Ward 19 operation, and I was released. I got given my notice the following week.
Both are long gone now. Sob!
Nye Bevan NHS creator, easer of pain!
Spike, who fought depression,
Ah, well, Cheerio!
I became a Trad-Jazz footsoldier,
Just loved the style of Chris Barber,
Kenny Ball’s band sound became familiar,
I found the brilliant sounds from Ken Colyer!
The laid-back style, of Acker!
But Trad-Jazz from these lads is worth it!