– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – But Maybe? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I fancied becoming an auger, avenger, even an astrologer… But which one? I pondered longer and longer… I settled for being a gas lamp lighter & snuffer, But doing this first job made me feel happier… Back then, things were far less angstier.
A split shift daily, the pay was lousy, But the jobs 13 bob pay was daily, There was less anger, violence and hostility, I walked with my pole & cap, my snuffer outer, I took back-handers, but not like Starmer!
Shift workers? A tap on their window with my Reacher, Morn or night, each time I’d make an extra (6d) tanner, Sometimes, there’d be summat extra-curricular, I’d nip in for a visit with Grizelda, It took some cunning but was worth the bovver!
A rare moment of me needing exoneration, absolution, But indeed, a moment of joy and satisfaction, I’ll never forget my muscular, fair maiden, She’d throw me on the bed, then start the action, Afterwards, bliss was my primary reaction! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ANOTHER CUT-DOWN-A-BIT ODE. Not a lot?.
In the morning shot of Venus, I have no idea what the green spots were; they were reflections from the flash, maybe?
Ocado’s order arrived between calls from Carer Chloe & Sam. Fresh food to fill up the fridge Flora no-butter-butter, smoked sausages, cheesy rolls, fresh Kenyan garden peas, Surami, Franks, bacon and some Notoori Black Tomatoes; they were overripe already, so brown on the outside and red inside, and delicious!
Cupboard foods Chestnuts, orange dessert pots, pickled mushrooms and Black Bean Sauces.
The fridge filled up!
For the next five hours, it was mental mayhem. No idea which Carer called. What I got done on the blog was hardly worth bothering with, and what bit I did find after the Marathon Seizure was all wrong, grammatically, timewise & didn’t make a lot of sense. So I had to start again in the morning. Correcting and adding bits and the photos. A blurr otherwise.
I gave up computing. I was here, there, nowhere, puzzled and suddenly tired, drained mentally. Got the meal sorted, of sorts. Sourdough bread: It worked out at 56p a bite just for the bread. With the beautiful tomatoes, £120 a bite. They are so expensive! No butter-buttered the sourdough bread, sliced tomato and salted them to make two sourdough sarnies. Got the meal made and digested.
Carer Promise, I think, did the last call.
I’m sorry, but it’s a bit bare. My seizure notes were unreadable even to me. Who must have written them?
Sleep was slow in coming despite my feeling so drained. But when it finally arrived, I slept for three unbroken hours! That was welcome!
An already used Starmer-The-Stealer cartoon here. To fill up this terribly short blog. I liked this one!
I can’t help thinking that so much more happened today. But it’s obviously been dispatched into the ether if anything happened by .
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – OF STARMERS NEW TORY, LABOUR HMG! Double-dealing, Lies, and Hocuspocus! No regrets about taking backhanders, Or bankrupting for food producing farmers,
And killing off private-pensioned pensioners,
And this from the party that created the NHS?
I imagine OAPS voted Labour, I guess?
New ministers that are the schmooziest,
Starmer could make the UK problems terminal,
Earths end may go galactically, universally viral,
Would Earth’s survival be acceptable or tenable?
Watching aliens must think humankind terrible,
Out Oligarchs, politicians so ungainsayable,
Earth’s innocents are so slaughterable…
This is just part of our trouble,
It’s time for our rulers to burst their bubble…
Our future is, of course, underivable,
Earth’s poor are all unconsequential,
I pray to see the first promised Angel…
Who just may be sent to us from Hell…
I hope he brings a freebie for Starmer as well! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Definitely a better kip last night. Although it took me so long to get to sleep, I reckon I was in bed for about eight hours, two of which were sleeping. But this is an improvement. I rose at about 04:20hrs, passed some wind, and the nocturnal catheter pouch was removed from the day pouch. A decent colour this time. Which, incidentally, should have been changed last Friday according to the date written on it, but things kept ensuring that I forgot to remind the carer about it. Sleep problems, seizures, Little Inchies Fungal lesion, Harold’s Haemorrhoids, the nose and Toothache Tiffany bleeding away. Yet somehow, I didn’t get caught up with the blog; the computer was dead set against me saving photos, and I had no heart to take many.
My BP was decent this morning after yesterday’s 2nd Hyper of the week. I amassed things needed to complete the ablutions and hibernated in the wet room to get on with the task. Again, the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. So again, I had no chance of taking a shower; I had a strip wash and couldn’t even clean my feet in the bowl as I shaved due to my inability, just like a three-year-old, to take off my socks. In times like this, depression and frustration can overtake me.But surprisingly, I kept my imitation pucker-up pretty well. The shave went wellish. Just one minuscule nick. A bit worried about not needing the Porcelain Throne again. With no showering and no shi… Porcelain Throne activity, I was done and out within 1½hrs. Stupidly, I adopted a mild Smug Mode. When will I ever learn? I went into the main junk/recliner/computer/bedroom and tried to get my socks pulled off. I should have known better! Dizzy Dennis, Loss-Balance-Barbara, and a little help from a short had me over! Inchy took another tumble! However, he redirected his route to the floor and lunched onto the bed! I pulled the quilts and dressing gown off the bed. But pleased he’d avoided any injuries… That’s not strictly correct. Harold’s Haemorrhoids, which had just been cleaned and ointmentated, started bleeding. Which stained the fresh Protection pants he’d just struggled to get on. He now struggled to get off and replace them with another fresh pair after cleaning and creaming again! Noticing that the urine was now bloodied in the tube. Then I got the long picker-upperer to get the things from the floor and tidied up a little, not a lot! Hence, I had to frequently wash dry and Germoloid Little Inchies Haemorrhoids throughout the rest of the day. At long last, I got on the computer to check and finish the templates. It should have taken me fifteen minutes, but three hours later, I had completed them. Now, the depression and frustrations began to sink in. I then discovered that the few pictures I’d taken in the evening (currently 01:45 hrs Sunday) were taken with the SD card on the computer.
My spirit is destroyed. The only semi-highlight was the computer: it let me save a photo of the snack I had taken earlier and a shot that had just been taken.
Not a lot, but nice. This may be the wrong photo?Early Morning View.
Feeling really low now.
WHEREVER DID THE DAY GO? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I found out on Monday that I had made an error in the meal photo. Fortunately, I also found out I had not yet (forgotten!) to post this blog. So I can rectify my singularly rare, not often-made mistake. (I’m lying well, aren’t I?) Belatedly, my memory springs into action… I enjoyed this one.
I wish that did not toy with and tease me so often, but with the previously classed as now becoming , there is plenty of scope for me to make even more mistakes in future comments. Oh, I haven’t mentioned the NHS letter yet! They are altering the Diabetic Course to a different Training course, which is being arranged for me. The Diabetes Type Two training is being changed to a Diabetic Dementia & Cognitive Decline course.
This could (I think) mean that I may have the possibility of if I read it right, Hippocampal Doreen Dementia, Diabetic Doreen Dementia, vascular Doreen Dementia, Alzheimer’s Disease Dementia, Lewy Body Dementia, Frontotemporal Dementia, Mixed Dementia, Traumatic Encephalopathy Dementia, Posterior Cortical Atrophy Dementia, or Primary Progressive Aphasia Dementia (Semantic or Logoepenic).
Telling me: “There’s a strong correlation between Alzheimer’s disease and high blood sugar levels. One study found that people with high blood sugar levels, such as those linked with Type 2 diabetes, “had a dramatic increase in beta-amyloid protein, one of the hallmark brain proteins of Alzheimer’s disease.” People in the early stages of Type 2 diabetes (Me) have signs of brain dysfunction. In fact, one study’s participants showed high levels of insulin resistance in the brain and a reduced ability to use glucose to fuel normal brain function. Individuals with Type 2 diabetes show accelerated cognitive decline, specifically in executive function and information-processing speed. The early effects of diabetes on the brain were related to levels of a blood protein called haemoglobin A1C (HbA1C). Researchers found that even people with diabetes for less than 10 years had deficits in memory function typically associated with a brain region called the hippocampus. They found that people with diabetes had smaller hippocampal sizes than people without diabetes. They also discovered the decreases in hippocampal size correlated to HbA1C blood levels, suggesting that HbA1C could indicate hippocampal-type function and/or the onset of memory loss. The gene for amyloid precursor protein (or APP, the “parent molecule of beta-amyloid) is known to be involved in some cases of Alzheimer’s. This gene also affects any insulin pathway. Disruption of the insulin pathway is a hallmark of
diabetes and research on the APP gene could lead to a therapeutic target for both diseases.
What to expect in early-stage Vascular Dementia. In early-stage vascular dementia, damage to the blood vessels or disruption of blood flow to the brain may already have occurred, yet symptoms may be relatively mild. .. While memory loss is a common first sign of cognitive decline in those who are developing dementia, memory issues are often not the first sign of vascular dementia. Instead, those developing vascular dementia may experience confusion more often, issues with communication, and trouble making decisions, planning, or problem-solving. Now they tell me! Hehe!
If, by any chance, a patient reading this was not too confused, they damn well are now after reading it! Haha! So, back to school for me in the New Year! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Have we oldies been accessorised? Is this something to do with Starmer’s lies? Should politicians be backhanders or exemplifiers? I ask these things cause I’m not very wise, Are Oligarchs crooked financiers? Ought our PM’s be gonfalonieres? I think they show their audacities, & artificialities, Their answers seem to decontextualise… Questions answered seem to extemporise… Explanations, hypothesise or theories, No guilt is shown; suspicion then intensifies, Reasons for the oldies mental malaise… Deafness, Dementia we can’t always ostracise, Maybe paralysis, prosthesis, or psychosis? Voting for who? The least bloodthirsty? Some seek self-profit, adversely… Some act cunningly, some with ambiguity, If I was PM, I’d lead anacreontically, Towards the aged, I’d act adminicularly… Starmer is more a dictator than an abecedary, So he can’t bring or supply equanimity. His nature & outlook are not very veritable, I think their future is looking terrible… Some looked to me like just fixed addicts, One appeared to be doing mind acrobatics, Many seemed to be on antibiotics… One was ever-scratching at her bedticks, The chancellor looked like a Wiccanist, The chap next to her, like a voodooist? Gurning Starmer looked the wealthiest, His cabinet lot looked the weirdest… Backbenchers suffered from wanderlust, Sturmer got a few scolding looks, They were from the wannabes, Rachel Reeves started to apothegmatise… Using axiomatics to hide her lies, It was matter-of-fact, nowt to energise… To give false hope would not be wise,
No hope giver Starmer, but an annihilationist,
A farmer-hating Starmer and gerontophilias,
Who leads his turncoat MPs, the nudnicks…
Policy changed from Socialist to psychosis,
The sceptics changed their semantics,
From romantics to political bandits,
From scholastics to schizophrenics,
Humane to back-hander-holics!
From honourable to Oligarchal!
Labour’s already as rusty as my belt buckle!
Their honour dies, leaving no sparkle…
I wouldn’t mind if Starmer gets suicidal! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This blog was not started until 14:00hrs on Saturday. Between Mini-Seizures, Dizzy Dennis, and Memory-Mangling-Malcolm—backed up with Glaucoma Gladys—and the computer failing to save again, it’s been a long, unsuccessful, lousy day for me. (18:10 hrs). I suppose I made a decent start, though. I did complete December’s templates. However, I even got the dates wrong on many of them, so I had to change each one to regain the required sequence of dates. Also, a few photos were saved, but not many were taken. If it was go-wrongable, it did! Little Inchies Fungal Lesion Bleeding. Toothache Tiffany. Mini-Seizures. Dozzy Dennis. Harold’s Haemorrhoids were debilitating still now! I did manage to get some sleep in though. Up at 04:15hrs. Sleep was a little better, but nowt to shout about, I’ve still not caught up with all the days lost. Urine is a better colour!
Sorry, but it’s so late. I’ll just put the few photos I’ve got on… if the computer lets me. Morning views.
Ablutions, I couldn’t use the shower cause the diabetic socks were not taken off last night. Stand-up wash shave, teggies, medicationalisationed, scented things. Haha! It still took me two hours without showering.. Carer Chris Started the templates. Carer Joanne. Finished the templates. Seizures and Dizzies were bad. Made a food order for the following Monday.
Suddenly drained after a good start as well. Fell asleep in the computer chair… Woke up when I fell off of the computer chair. Slipped, hauling my massive body up from the floor. Hit head on 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. Nose & teeth bleeding. (They soon stopped; the headache lasted a little longer, though) Carer Chris came; he wanted a can of cider… well, he took the last two of them. He didn’t, but he put them in the fridge to cool them and will collect them on his next visit. Not a lot, but I wasn’t hungry.
Acne & Ezcema is back again!
Sorry, it’s so short. Time won today. I’m too tired to start today’s blog, and it’s too late anyway. So, I expect it will be another battle to get things done for tomorrow’s blog. I think!
From within the depths of a shallow hope,
Dreams may start to evoke…
Your old desires, you will possibly revoke,
Be you young, old, female or menfolk,
Chances are you’ll need a urineascope,
You can avoid them using the cystoscope,
Maybe a heart op, or colonoscope,
Or the uncomfortable gastroscope,
A bronchoscope that goes down your throat,
Perhaps (I’ve had lots of these) a cystoscope,
An oesophagoscope (I’ve only had one) no more, I hope,
Many surgical wotsits names end with scope…
Laparoscope, various forms of endoscope,
Urethroscope, proctoscope, that’s also a rectoscope,
The first cancer detector was a spinthariscope,
Which at the time helped me cope.
Labours Nye Bevan, my hero, had appeal & allure,
He saved many lives; he created the NHS for sure…
In 1948, began the NHS adventure,
Few medicals were then available for the poor,
Then, to the NHS, they did pour,
I became an ardent admirer,
Look at it now, and we’ve got Starmer…
Stealing from each pensioner and farmer,
He’s a bribes & backhanders palmer!
What made the liar want to join Labour?
Let alone become the opposition leader,
Did he come as a Labour saboteur? Now he’s P.M., the nasty, cruel bleeder!
The politician I most hate and abhor,
Labour’s Red Rose may be due to alter…
Keir may replace it with a bloodied sabre,
He’s not going to be the UK’s saviour, It’s personal wealth that he does savour, I don’t mean him harm, but I’m not a well-wisher, I’ll wish him Godspeed to his undertaker!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Photo filing problems again.
Mini-seizures were rife throughout the day.
Dark Dank Depressions.
Immediate Dizzy Dennis Spells.
Concentration collapsed.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Whoops! Wee-wee a bit red again.
I’m not sure what I did wrong taking this Kodak 2 photograph of the Renaurd-ridden toes and feet. They didn’t look anything like the hue the picture came out as. The bruising was where the cans of veg I dropped landed.
Made a mug of strong Glengettie tea. Slurp!
They were with me for about three hours on the trot.
I couldn’t find any work I had done while they were on, which is unusual. Usually, I’d find work done on the computer or in the kitchen that I could not remember doing. With the blog, this means I have to spend ages correcting things, but not today, as I have not done anything.
I soon found out I was wrong again! It cost me time and money and embarrassment, which I didn’t realise until near teatime. When the front porch intercom sounded. I went to see who it was, expecting someone had rung the wrong flat number… or a resident had forgotten to take the key to get back in with them. But no, nothing so simple.
At the door on the screen, was a gentleman delivering me a Morrison’s food order?
So, I had been doing something while in the seizures. And what a mess I made of that, too!
I checked later on and sent the order off during the 3 hours of Sandra’s attendance.
The chap arrived, and I put the food away, but why I’d ordered some things and not others will remain a muddled mystery.
Why the hell I ordered roasting potatoes and frozen red onions, I do not know. I have nothing to cook potatoes on or in. I can now recall buying a bag of these months ago, and they were tasteless and had to be thrown away. Three bags of cheesy bread rolls were ordered, but no sliced Milk Roll bread was ordered. Oh, dearie me!
I ordered canned coffee, which was for the nurses and carers. I also ordered some more soft drinks, but no spring water, which I take to fill the bladder. Cream cakes? Why? Who for on a Sunday? Also, some fresh chopped white onions had been ordered? More tomatoes, two packs of different ones!
Not the faintest memory of making the order in the first place, when I made it, or why I made it!
I soon decided to see if any Caregivers wanted the cream cakes in the morning. I dropped one box of the cakes, and they squashed and sprayed cream through the breath holes in the carton!
It took me ages to clean up the mess.
Now, depression and frustration have begun.
I’m glad I ordered these cheeses, though. Mature Blue Stilton cheese and extreme vintage cheese spread. Not knowing this order was coming, I’d defrosted some ready-sliced brown bread rolls for today’s meal.
,
I used the last of the extra-strong cheddar slices on these rolls. Had I been in the habit of eating newspapers, this is just how I expected them to taste – tasteless!
After eating or nibbling a few bits of the horrendous-tasting rolls and weak cheese with some tomatoes, I put the just-delivered cheesy-topped rolls in the freezer for later.
Then I discovered they were not cheesy-topped at all, just plain wholemeal. Presumably, they had been substituted for the cheesy rolls that I wanted. Spit!
More of the day lost than recalled. Sorry. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The memories recalled, but only just, I think it may have been 1972, in August… I met and was mauled by an anaesthesiologist, Stabbed by an acupuncturist. This year, I was robbed by an oligarchist, Who goes by the name of Starmer! Known as the proletariat’s financial amputator, His first job as PM put pensioners asunder, Raised taxes for every farmer, Who accepted far too many a backhander… He is still the Labour leader, Money from anywhere he can acquire, To his many wrongs, he’s not a conceder, Because he is such an arrogant bleeder… A perfect match to be a Tory Prime Minister, He’s although blunt, he’s a clever circumventor… Lies directly, by omission, a fibbing blatherer, I bet he’s never been a TV renter, Cause self-wealth is at his centre… Working persons new tax inventor, Bet he gets a free haircut from his barber! His taxes put an end to improving agriculture, He’s just like a greedy vulture! His ruthlessness gives me acroparesthesia, It’s like he got into power with tabula nasa, Apart from filling his bank account whenever, To morals & sympathy, he is a denyer, I wonder if his stockings are 15 denier? I doubt his calculations, cogitation, & dedication… I wonder at times if he is just an apparition… Sent by Putin, to do our economy in? Or maybe a Right-Wing Martian? He’s certainly caused political confusion, Are, to Keir, old labour values an illusion? Voters want action with anti-depression, Not an HMG leader like an automaton! It could all end with a revolution! Maybe it can be stopped by a coalition, But he doesn’t need my permission… But he can have my commiseration, HMG UK is leading to deterioration, Sooner the better, for the voting disillusioned That Starmer is toppled & decommissioned!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Ah, a bit better colour!
Terrible photo!
Waste bags condensed.
Evening mug of Glengettie tea.
Blue evening views
Four big cob sarnies. But they were too big for me to manage. Waste not, want not; I bagged them, put them in the fridge, and ate them on Saturday. They were pork loin with robust cheddar cheese, no-butter butter, sliced tomatoes, and chestnuts. No finger cuts were sustained.
Got more photos saved to go on tonight! Smug-Mode-Adopted!
Note the deliberate spelling mistake? Ahem!
Gawd, I hate Starmer!
I don’t think I’m on my own.
A large rise in cases percentage-wise!
I did a bit of research later for the odd below above!
All was normal here.
Slightly darker this morning.
My morning shots are getting atrocious!
Yesterday, I, Sherlock Holmesianly, searched for the signs of which houses are growing Cannabis in their lofts. Today, it became apparent. Hehehe!
I’m unsure how I did it, but I got the battery-powered can opener to work!
Snowgoinger! Haha!
No TV. No landline phone. No Panic Alarm Working. NO INTERNET! For 5+ hours. Still, as long as the owners of Virgin, Liberty-Global, keep paying their CEO a phenomenal salary. Indeed, they will remain the supreme, cunning, lying Oligarchs they are. Trying to cancel their service, with their clause making us pay £100s to do so, requires someone with the following skills and can afford a barrister, a mathematician, & Einsteinian genius. If one does escape their financial and incapable service, one may try EE, 3, Vodafone, BT, UPC Broadband, 02, ITV plc, or Sirius—all of which Liberty-Global either owns or has investments in! We can’t win!. But Liberty-Global Always Do! (Spit!)
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d like to relate a little anecdotage, I’m losing my grip on life in my dotage! My financial situation can be called in arrearage,
The medics can’t mend my wee wee appendage!
I have no willpower, respect or appanage, So, I consulted a Sherwood archaeologist… He dismissed me as being human sullage, He checked on my lineage, Suggested I go live in a hermitage, Although a wizard, he was more like a hucksterage, My nerve rash started getting blotchier, He said: I know what’s up with yer…, Like many old farts, you’re angry at Starmer! Yer blood’s boiling at Keir and your bank manager, There’s no one at home to give you a blether, And look at the state of the bloody weather! I can see yer at the end of your tether… Yer cookers’ broke, standing in yer corridor… Can’t cook or pissed, you’ve lost your composure, Problems with your heating & the computer, Cancer, Renauds, toothache & painful catheter, Starmer, Rachel Reeves, the HMG chancellor, Yer feelin’ sorry for yersen, yer silly old dodderer! Doreen Dementia depresses yer, The solution is available for you, For £500, I’ll reveal what it is, too! Go home and think it over, and come back Tuesday at two. So I went back all punctual, expecting a natter and brew… They told me he’d died last night on the loo! More dreams like this, & I don’t know what I’ll do! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – -.
I was up at 04:00hrs to give myself plenty of time to shower, shave, and complete another visit to the Porcelain Throne in time for food delivery from Ocado. A Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation, and all over within 20 seconds of getting my tight little bottie settled on the plastic WC seat. Splush… all done! This ablution session took me over two hours, which was nothing unusual. I was all done abluting and started to get the medicationalisationings done. Unfortunately, after yesterday and the five nurses’ attempts to get the tube back in the bladder via poor little Inchie, He was very delicate this morning. So, ointmentating the fungal lesion was even more painful than ever. It brought tears to my eyes! But I got that done, and then I Phorpain gelled the cartilages of Chloe and Carole. Then, I did Arthur Itis’s left and right patellas with the same gel. Olive oiled the ears, put the Blepha gel in the left eye, and Chloramphenicol drops into the right eye. (Well, most of it ended up down my chest and on the floor!)
I got some Germolid ointment on my bottie to help soothe Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Always a pleasure doing that. Then, the Acne & Excema medications are under and on the arms, the flabby drooping belly, the head, and the neck. Yes, it’s spreading again! Next, congestion relief was sprayed onto the nasal area, and the Anti-Bleed swabbed when that cleared. The Nozohaem was kept handy, but it was not required. Then, a miracle occurred! I could not understand why it was so easy this morning, but I still felt smug when I put on the fresh Protection Pants, pulled them up, and adjusted them without catching the catheter netting or anything—in less time than it took me to take the old ones off! Brilliant! I still can’t believe it myself! Did I dream it or have a mini-seizure?
I cleaned up the wet room, took the waste bag and the used catheter bag to make up a larger one, and saw it was only 06:10 hrs! I’d done all that in just over two hours. But, being me, doubts lingered that I may have got the starting time or waking up time wrong. This took the edge off of my temporary period of almost glee and pride.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – COMPUTER NOT UP TO SCRATCH TODAY I took this snap just before going to the wet room. You can’t see the snow in this one, but it’s stubbornly time-melting.
Very sad about all the photos I took, I can tell you! Heartbreaking.
I’ve lost the compunction… is that the right word? I’ll look it up… No that’s the wrong word altogether. I’ve lost interest in even trying to get this blog done. It’s already gone 20:00hrs, and I’m only up to here with it. I keep trying to get the photos on, but it takes so long using the Ccleaner that my pride and heart are not in it. For the first time ever as well. Still, it’s been a busy day again, interruptions, mistakes and the damned mini-seizures. I had a lot of them today, two when one carer was here and another with a different carer. I’m fuddled.
There was a mammoth cock-up again with the food orders. I would have sworn that I made one order for today and another with a different shop for next Wednesday. First, the Ocado delivery arrived. Then, this evening, the Tesco order arrived! No photos can be saved again, yet it let me do these above, then died on me again.
The computer let me upload these tonight, and later it saved them. Huh!
I think technology, ill health, mental & physical are getting too much for me.
Half of what took place needn’t have bothered me. I know that I had a carer doing the financial checks today, but who it was and two mini-seizures during the visit have left me well-baffled.
I’ve just run my neighbour and Angel of Mercy Jenny. I ordered cream cakes next Wednesday, and I now have two boxes. Her hubby, my mate Frank, kindly came up to collect them, along with a few bits that I would never eat, and they were short-dated. So, at least they have not been wasted and got to where they were intended for. I’d be lost without Jenny & Frank.
Sorry, but I’ve had enough today.
I’ll see how things go in the morning.
Fingers crossed.
I’ll make something to eat. I might even photograph it… but will the computer allow me to file it, or even load them?
Feeling dejected, that was the word!
Hope to see you in the morning.
Well, it’s evening now on Thursday.
But I did get some photos saved.
The 2nd delivery
I am a fool!
Tomatoes, potatoes, chestnuts, and chestnuts, with two really-filled ham rolls, with no-butter butter, & a dab of Marmite.
The potatoes were not very good.
Evening all! The snow melting. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN & Have a great day!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WHAT A START! MIND YOU THE MIDDLE & END WERE NOWT TO SHOUT ABOUT I stirred around 05:30hrs, after another disturbing jumping and shooting awake imitation night’s sleep in bed. The nocturnal catheter pouch was the brownest it’s been for a while. Carer Richard confirmed it as seven on the NHS colour-rating scale card. I was not in good nick this morning, but nothing seemed worse than any other ailment.
I started updating Sunday’s post. As I was about to post it, I got emails and messages from the bank about the payment for my new Tesco account order not being paid. I thought I’d coped well with setting up an account with them. Over the next few hours, I received more emails and messages from Tesco and the bank. Obviously, I had done something wrong somewhere. I struggled to get the bank to pay for my Tesco order. A carer tried, the first nurse tried, and then I rang Deana for help. I had eight different passwords come in, and none worked. Five emails from Tesco and three more from the bank. But I could not work out what I’d done wrong, although it was apparent that I’d done something wrong. Another nurse worked it out for me – I’d put the wrong telephone number as I registered with Tesco. I’d put the landline instead of mobile – what a clot and farce that was. Then, I rang Deana to say it was sorted; I’m so glad the nurses came today.
However, I still did not grasp what I had done wrong in the process for a while.
THE NURSE’S VISITS: A nurse called on me (Thank heavens) this morning to replace my Catheter. But she could not get it to go back in. After a phone call for assistance, another nurse arrived to help. An hour later, it was still not back in. They called for an ambulance but were told no non-emergency ambulances were available. So they departed, saying, just like Arnie said in the film, did, “I’ll be back!”
Three nurses arrived later! They got the Catheter painfully for me and sorted it around 20 minutes later. They were in a rush; they had a lot more Catheter-ridden old farts to visit. I said I was sorry to bother them, gave them some nibbles and drinkies of their choice, and was told to ring if there were any problems later. (None yet) I think this is why I did not post the blog properly. Jenny sent me an email as I checked those from Tesco and the bank and posted off Saturday’s blog. Then sent a message to Jenny; “I hope it’s gone through now, Jenny. ♥” Explaining the day I’d had as an excuse for the cock-ups that I’d made already. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
First photographs.
Second photographs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE BEDThe torture bed, where things got badder… Four tries to get the tube back into the bladder, It felt like I was being mauled by a barracuda, Blood came from the fungal lesion’s ulcer, I sang to make the pain easier… Gene Pitney’s 24-hours from Tulsa, I thought one nurse was the Grim Reaper, undercover, My howling was like a documentary voiceover, My voice recording could be used in Dracula! Each nurse got annoyed at each failure… One suggested taking my temperature, Their kind efforts did not waiver, In the NHS, I became a believer,
Each nurse was a wallflower with power,
As they worked out how to grab my waggler,
Which was getting smaller and wrinklier,
On the 6th attempt, I sensed they were getting tireder,
My bladder was getting fuller & fuller,
On the 7th, they epitomised womanpower,
Their attitude to me was pure exemplar,
These Angels were so patient and avuncular,
As soon as they’d won, I had gastrectasia…
Telling me to stay in bed for a while, to recover,
The tube reconnected in my tallywhacker…
I was already feeling so much better,
I told each one I loved her!
Nibbles & a drinkies of their choice, I did offer,
I thanked them all for being so spectacular! ♥ – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All in, up and running again! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tonight’s ready-made meal. I plan to have some tomatoes and beef sarnies with it.
Back in the morning… I hope! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Good Morning! Carer Promise arrived on his last call and took photos of the snow falling from the balcony. Then the lad attached the night pouch to the Catheter, which leaked all over the floor! So I was freezing from him letting the cold into the room, wet, and I had the job of cleaning up the leaked urine, wee’d on legs and slipper! And all I wanted to do was to get some sleep!
Still, it gave him a laugh. Hehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN each, Joy & Happiness to you All!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer, For stealing fuel help from every pensioner, But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later… Although it made OAPs £500 poorer… It got the Unions complaining angrier, It was businesses that gave him his backhanders! An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard, Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted? Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted… Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector! Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember, They’ll be in a home or alone, suffering from Dementia, Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia, Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia, Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia, Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia… Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,
I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater, A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler, I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore! A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came, I wanted to blame whatsitsname… Or maybe even whatsaname, I considered blaming whatshername… But for each one, I was the one to blame. First one, I was cleaning the windowpane… Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain, Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame, Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane! Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Then, I dropped my written username… I tried bending down again… Landed on my knees, agony more than pain! The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, But doing so was such a strain, Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train, The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things. A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.
This morning’s efforts.
Is my urine going darker again?
Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.
Morning all.
Afternoon-teatime views.
It looked like some clouds were going to land.
Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box. Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!
I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score! I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water. Hehehe!
– – LABOUR ROBDOGS PARTYTIME! – – – – – — – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – He speaks with a forked tongue, indeterminately, He steals from pensioners; he’s a gerontophobee! He shows mordacity, & leads minaciously, Accepts back-handers, anything, credulously, Clothes, glasses, Arsenal tickets for free, He comes across as being rather sleazy… Lies by omission, with great nugacity, He looks like a land-based manatee, Lacking in sympathy and humanity, He’ll cause more voters lachrymosity, He brings out my hatred and lubricity! With his fibs by omission and duplicity… He forecasts that things will go bleakly, He gives an aura of him being peccantly… He answers questions in a roundabout way, evasively, Subject changing, circuitously, obliquely, evasively! His cabinet pep talks are more like an obsequy! His compassion is woeful; he hates commonimity, He can’t hide his conceitedness, ego or vainglory, He failed to declare £16,200 in gifts from Lord Alli, Accepted gifts worth £100,000! Verily! At worst? He stole Winter Fuel cash from Inchie! Who may not need to go on a diet of xerophagy, Heat or eat… is a possibility!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What graphics and photos did the computer, CorelDraw, MS Excel, MS Word, Norton, Ccleaner, Shaking Shaun, Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, and Mini-Seizure-Sandra allowed me to save for use on this blog?
In a sort of chronological order. Close up from the kitchen window, trying to get the trees and bushes to see the changing colours.
