– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My ponderings are, at times, encyclopaedic, Though they rarely show any signs of being gnostic, Mostly, dizzy, ditzy, sceptic, and simplistic, You could say they’re Starmeristic? Though at birth, they can seem astronomic, In reality, they can be catastrophic… Regularly scatterbrained and nonspecific, They come and go like an epidemic, They all possess a degree of the unspecific, Mingled with thoughts, though microscopic, Seeming to others sort of verbally monolithic, With humour, fear, desires and the hyperbolic, Often resulting in being self-homiletic, Common sensical, yet psychedelic, Like life, ponders can be oneiric, But pondering is not all that terrific! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – VERY PLEASED WITH THIS WEEKS RETURNS!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up the ghost of sleeping. I took off the nocturnal night pouch and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk! First, there is a chronically badly taken view from the kitchen window. Which is nothing like the view my eyes saw. One of my worst efforts! Followed by a wider shot, which produced an almost as bad a reproduction as the first disastrous effort. This lone camera will have to be studied. I can’t see the small print on the instructions nor determine the option buttons. I tried again an hour later and got this effort on the right, using the other camera. Better?
I’d been up late, so there was not a lot of catching up to do on yesterday’s blog. I titivated it and posted it to WP.
I felt terribly cold this morning, but my flu symptoms were no worse. My throat seemed easier than it had been yesterday.
Then, the morning summoning from the innards sent me scurrying off to the wet room for the daily Porcelain Throne evacuation. . Soft as things were that evacuated this morning, there was a worrying amount of pain & blood (not too much; it was Harold’s Haemmorhoids) that came with it.
I had a slow, steady washing and a painful medicationalisation session. Little Inchies Fungal lesion and, more rarely, Harold’s Haemmorhoids gave me the most hassle. The piles were bleeding far more than they usually do, but not too painful with it. It was stopping the flow that took the most time. After finishing and getting dressed, I returned to the computer. After about an hour or so, the sneezing started to kick off, but the throat was much more manageable. As usual, there were a few specs of blood from the nose. Blowing the nose, I realised how the tissue was getting cut up. I’d not had a shave! I shall go shaveless. And try not to shave at all. See how it goes, as Tim Price put it, ‘Going Caveman Style.’
Unknown Carer arrived at 09:45hrs. I worked on the daily ode. Carer Suen arrived at 11:15hrs. It was too short a break between calls for any painkillers to be issued.
Having done a bad job of this morning, Jenny loaned the camera. I tried the old Kodak Tim camera, hoping that by some miracle, the blotch on the photos would not show up this time.
Oh, dear, that didn’t work either. The blotch is more prominent than ever now. Shame. I put the lens cleaner on it, went over it with the soft cloth and spray, and tried again. Did my bestestest.
I’ll make some nosh then.
Very nice it was too! Chinese belly pork (very fatty, naughty… but nice!) & baked potatoes with No-butter butter and a blob of BBQ sauce.
Washed the pots and sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch two episodes of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’.
AT LONG LAST… I fell asleep, Oh, the sheer Bliss! Five minutes later, Carer Precious arrived. Could I get back to sleep after? No!
Carer Precious did the last call and took off the diabetic socks. Meds were issued, and he fitted the catheter night pouch.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – We waited so long for a Labour HMG saviour, What do we end up with? Dishonest Starmer, He amassed himself £102,000, by gift & freebie, Gets caught out as a cheat & and a by omission liar, Then, the git decided to rob every pensioner,
Moves on to tax increases for every farmer, Before was Blair New Labour, Thatcher, the warer, Both had faults, but neither were poorer… Then Starmer, the Labour beancounter, Here’s my chance to be a bit of an auger, He’ll end up being a greater disaster…
Pensioners eat or heat on bread & butter…
Keir, the bystander, babbler, baffler, bamboozler, The future has never looked dimmer… He’s allowed a 50% rise in the cost of a Zimmer! I wonder what they gifted him for a backhander? But what options are there for the elector? Conservatives, no, Rishi was their suicider, What would be phantasmagorical… Is it possible for him to read this little Ode… oracle? Will he get the message? He is pretty academical,
Unfortunately, he’s also ungainsayable,
A stream of compassion is easily wadable.
Not to take it is cruel and wackadoodle.
More complex for him is the path to turning veridical,
Is his urge for backhanders & lying unrestrainable?
His actions, to date, have been totally unmollifiable,
For a Labour leader, it is astounding and indefensible.
Anything he says now, after so many lies, is unbelievable, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – During the election, Labour promised they would cut energy bills for good. Labour announced proposals to “set up Great British Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company”, and in the run-up to the election, prominent Labour politicians claimed that this would cut bills by up to £300 a year. What has happened: On January 1, the latest Energy Price Cap came into effect; this is the second time energy bills have risen despite an explicit promise by the government to cut energy bills – another broken promise for which we are now paying very dearly for the price raise!
What has happened: Recently released figures show the number of small boat arrivals has increased since Labour came to power. Between July 5 and December 31 2024, there were 35,242 arrivals by small boat, 33.4% more than in 2023.
Keir Starmer told the country they could trust Labour’spromises not to raise taxes and not to unleash a borrowing spree. In the House of Commons on October 9 this year, he said, ‘’e made an absolute commitment not to raise taxes on working people. Rachel Reeves said a rise in National Insurance was a tax purely on working people. What actually happened: Labour have done just that and more. They fiddled with the fiscal rules, increased borrowing by billions of pounds, and raised taxes on businesses – which they have now admitted will leave working people worse off. The Office of Budget Responsibility said an increase in employer National Insurance will be passed onto workers.
Keir Starmer, Steve Reed, and the Labour Party told farmers that Labour respects them, protects their livelihoods, and promises not to change agricultural property relief for farmers. The CLA conference was reported in the FT on December 23. What actually happened? In the 2024 Autumn Budget, Labour broke its promise to farmers by reducing the relief and imposing inheritance tax rates on farmland. This will devastate family farms and seriously threaten domestic food security and prices.
Amongst LaLabour’sudget of broken promises, Labour has made the political choice to target family farms, and the consequences will be felt by thousands of farms and families across the country. In Yuan YaYang’s election campaign in July 2024 – she said she wanted to help people with fuel bills and keep homes warm with an insulation plan. What happened: On September 10, 86 days after the election, Yuan Yang, our MP, voted to scrap the pensioner’s winter fuel allowance with Starmer’support. Pensioners expected help with heating costs; they didn’t expect the removal of their winter fuel allowance. Yuan Yang, Starmer and Labour taking money from the vulnerable again! But let’s try to be fair to the pensioner-robber & killer, He may have a mental issue with which he’s not acquainted. Oligarchishness, backhander-addiction, or distempered? Cognisance Impairment makes your brain shackled, Getting caught lying may have been upsetting? A mental illness? I’I’veot 3, most maddening, He constantly shows a poker face… emotionless. I’d like to help him: my mate’s an acupuncturist? He walks with a limp, so may he have gout? He never listens to advice. Does he need an audiologist? Is he demon-possessed, in need of a psychiatrist? To help him to keep his promises & guarantees, That psychiatrist failed; he needs to be ditched! MPs sit away from Keir in Parliament; have you noticed? This was advised to them by StStarmer’sastrologist, Bet he has a neurologist, & a neuroradiologist, I manage with my GP, last seen on October 5, I’ll see her again before I die; I’m an optimist… Although I may be a little over-ambitious, It’s bout 10 weeks to see my Neurosurgeons, Have I enough to backhand them… To make Doreen Dementa scram? Just in case you read this, Starmer… And I die under the knife and hammer… I’m no liar, and I can assure you, Starmer… I’I’lle your spiritual habituér, I’I’llring a bottle of the black death… To sneeze & spill all over you! So please don’t die before you are due… I want my revenge; it’ll be long overdue! Did I mention my hatred for Starmer? ThThis’sy pirlicue. I FANK YOU! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TERRIBLE NIGHT – CONFUSING MORNING – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night. It has to stop!
Be it Influenza, Norovirus or Stomach Flu, it ain’t nice. I’ve been lucky not to get colds and flu. I’ve had all three jabs. But it’s obviously got me this time. A buildup of phlegm and mucus in the throat and chest. Aches and pains in all my joints. And after several years without as much as a single headache. I’I’vead a cracker for three days now with no relenting. Nausea and talk about stomach rumblings and grumblings… although, to be fair, they are not unusual for me. At least, and last, the altering alternating evacuation modes have all been under Trotsky TeTerence’sontrol since I copped this bug. Constipation Conrad can’t get a look in. Hehe! So, on the bright side, HaHarold’s haemorrhoids are not bleeding anywhere near as badly as they were. I’d like to think the same about Little Inchie Fungal lesion, but the Cather tube is giving me pain more than ever now. I must bend down to release the catheter day bag clip and empty it every time. Then, of course, today, the right testicle is growing again for some reason. It might be on its way to matching last year’s spanish-onion-sized. Tender!
Then there’s Pensioner-Killer-Starmer. How the hell has he not been dethroned, prosecuted or assassinated? Even the Tories said they would keep the winter fuel aid. And they did! Then came Backhander-taking Keir Starmer, the hater of every voter, proletariat, street sleeper, worker, Farmer and Pensioner. He is enough to make any mortal sick.
Anyway, I’d been lying on the bed for six hours, praying to get to sleep. But no! So I got out of bed and into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. I still thought I might yet get some sleep. But No! I was aching all over, inside and out. The blood from the throat, blow my nose, blood on the tissue. Only specs of it, mind you. Then, the odd sneezing bouts started. Now, these were scary. I was still not feeling tired. Worn out, yes!
Grindingly slowly, time moved on. I sat there, with the coughs, sneezes, and painful pouch emptying keeping me company.
Had I not been so weary, I’I’dave gone to get the ablutions done. I thought about it a few times, but my body disagreed. Suddenly, I realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky. Back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, HarHarold’semorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I think I felt a bit sorry for at this time. I had a few rapid . Which threw me off kilter. It was now gone eight o’clock and a Carer been, and I was in a seizure and couldn’t member the visit? I then remembered the surgery ringing me with the new Warfarin dosages last night. So, I wrote them out from the notepad and put them in the CarCarer’sg cover. I checked to see if anyone had filled it in the log. But, no! I settled back down in the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. The aches and pains, not the usual ones, the neck, chest, stomach, & joints got worse. as I sat there awaiting the Carer to call. I anticipated they may be late, but having three staff off poorly makes getting cover from other sites difficult. I added some juice to two bottles of spring water and started gulping it down. I was slowly coming out of the seizure… Or so I thought. But you know how lucky I am. Huh! I put the TV on, hoping it may help me to nod off. But no!
At about 10:00 hrs, there was no Caregiver, so I forced myself to use the computer. Not that my mind was ready or willing to use it. And headaches, especially behind my eyes, returned.
At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the post Haste! So, I did! Trotsky Terence was still in command, but the colour had changed. It had a distinctive metallic whiff or pong that accompanied the evacuation procedure. And it lingered. I used the fresh air spray.
I returned to the computer; I could not concentrate as I had anticipated. However, I did add a few decent lines to the start of today’s Ode.
At about 10 minutes to 12, Carer Sam arrived. She checked the taps on leaving. The morning carer had not arrived. I made no fuss about it.
I then returned to the computer and surprisingly began to get along well with the Odeing. It was long, and I had to verify everything I mentioned about the murderer ‘He’r Starmer’!
Was joined by , stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. On the bright side, I think the phlegm and sore throat were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, it made me eat my thoughts and words, and she took over as my Master-Pain-Mangler for the rest of the day, well, evening. This got me concerned over the lack of medication available for easing . I’ve mentioned the problem to every Carer since I found out a few days ago. But no one is advising me or informing me. I dipped into a self-centred depression and decided to see if I could try to get some sleep-catching up done. I got down into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, ‘n the TV and eat the meal.
Carer Simon called a little earlier than usual, but he had been drafted in again from his own place of work. I mentioned the shortages of my Angina medications again. I felt sorry for the Carers. With three off work, it’s no wonder they don’t have time to advise or help me. However, putting the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV on was frustrating. Still, I got there in the end… and within a minute, had nodded off into La-La land, and it was great, lovely; after three nights of sleeplessness, minutes later, the water alarm sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!
Sugar & Surreptitious Sodnesses! I was attacked by two of my beloved ailments at the same instant. (again) & . That was the end of my memories of the night.
I do recall ordering some cough medicine.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day. Who am I kidding?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Now I am worried. When I checked this blog, I found 157 errors! I have no doubt I missed some. My eyesight is blurry. How the hell did I do so many things wrong? It might have been unrecognised mini-seizures. It’s not boding well!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I could never do a headstand, I’ve never had a house husband, I did once get stuck in the heathlands, Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, I found a hairband on my hatstand?
I was confused, not worried, I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid, Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed, No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid? More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…
The computer was acting like an invalid, So many problems I was fumid, I’m giving up now; it makes me sick. There must be someone who can help me a bit… I’ve got no teeth left to grit,
On my second night without sleep or rest, Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist, Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.
The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous, The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us… Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding, I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.
The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, The sore throat hurt so much when coughing, It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!
After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous, This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.
I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼
I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired? This bug is a bugger!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What are you? What kind of achiever? What would you be if you weren’t a skiver? An autoworker, auctioneer or autobiographer… An archiver, aspirer, or an awe-giver? Backpacker, baker, ballbreaker… Banker, billposter, beggar or bedmaker? Cheesemaker, contractor or counterfeiter… A Chauffeur, croupier, or courier? A grave-digger, drug-taker, drugmaker… Murderer or some kind of doctor? Lift engineer, mayhap an Egyptologer… Driving test examiner, an art exhibiter? Fortune teller, foot-soldier, or fraudster? A gardener, food gatherer, gamekeeper? A house-sitter, work on a Helter Skelter? Interpreter, inventor, or interviewer… Ironmonger, investor, immigrant importer? A jailer, janitor, jitterbugger, or jester? Kindergartener, or a kettledrummer ? Lamplighter, lawyer, or do liposculpture? Microbrewer, or full-time Father/Mother… Microbrewer or full-time malingerer? A weed-neutraliser, maybe narcotrafficker… A military officer or a Newspaper obiter? Paperhanger, photographer, prize-fighter… A pilferer, plasterer or psychobabbler? Quantity surveyor or quartermaster? A reupholsterer, a Brexit renegotiater… Maintain a roller-coaster or racketeer? Schoolteacher, or work in a shoe store… Be a seismographer or a speechwriter… Market stallholder, mayhap a speedskater? A BP sphygmomanometer operator… An actor like Arnold Schwarzenegger… Possibly become a stripteaser… Streaker, shoplifter or stationmaster? A trumpeter, toastmaster or toymaker… Toreador, tax-gatherer, world traveller? A uranographer, become chairman of Unilever? A passport validator, or maybe a vintner… A furniture varnisher or a beach voltigeur? A basket weaver or a whoremaster? Work for Starmer as his yeasayer? A politician and or a Parole Boarder? You’ll learn how to be a freeloader, A bullshitter, wanker & hobnobber, Backhander-taker, hatemonger, & hornswoggler, A farmer & pensioner-impoverisher! If you fawn to & backhand Starmer… Your career will eventually stutter… As the end comes for Herr Starmer, He’ll blame every pensioner, He’ll blame every family farmer, He may lie his way to be a survivor? Starmer’s an excellent scammer & schemer, Did I mention how much I hate Starmer?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I awoke this merry morning and pottered about, photographing the nocturnal pouch and a few morning views. Then, after an hour or so, I realised I had not taken any falls, walked into anything, or dropped anything. My bleeding groin area was far less painful than yesterday, and the shave was a bloodless affair. Of course, medicating was as painful as it usually was.
But overall, it was a fantastic start to the day. I was expecting my beloved Nurse Hristina to call to take my blood. Apart from medicating the lesion, I naturally sang away as I launched the computer to finish yesterday’s blog.
I soon had the blog done and posted. (Still singing away to myself as I plodded on). I went on CorelDraw to prepare for up, loading the ten or so photographs I’d carefully taken. DANGKNANGLES! The Kodak camera had taken only two of the pictures! The first one had gone into the ether.
The second, the collated waste bag, was on the SD card. The card was in the camera; I recall taking it out and into the computer thingy, but there were no more shots! BUT NOTHING ELSE!
I went to check on the tiny inner file. Nothing was on it.
I retook some shots of the views, ensuring the card was back in the Kodak. I took several snaps. When I returned to upload it to the computer, nothing went through. Then, I noticed the camera did not light up when I put it on again. Stupid me!
Obviously, the batteries had died.
I put in new batteries and tried again. Nothing RIP to yet another camera!
Then, how did it take the second shot but not the first or those that followed? Was it all a part of the mysteries of the Woodthorpe Court’s Sinister Spirit’s master plan? To raise the devil, spread wonders, blunders, rodomontades, fears and descenders from the comfort of semi-sanity, with me almost in a good mood, into a gibbering wreck!
I spent hours trying to figure out what had gone wrong. I got six more batteries and replaced the first ones I had put in. No, there was no life! Then, I put two batteries into the torch, and they worked, eliminating the dead battery idea.
A break for my mind when Nurse Hristina arrived to take the blood. It’s lovely when she comes. ♥
Two caregivers, well the same Caregiver, came twice; Carer Chloe, one for medications, and one for domestic.
I settled for a photoless blog (All bar the one); I had no choice and insufficient cash yet to get a replacement. Depressed, dispirited and pissed off, I started doing today’s blog ode, then the top graphics.
I kept looking at the camera, thinking it must be something I’d done wrong. But it was a no-go every time I tried. And I tried so many times, sort of hoping!
At my lowest point, when I had the least interest in continuing the blog, it happened: Ailment number four kicked off. Flared up. My confidence faded, my depression got more profound, and the roaming chest pains settled in for about a solid five hours this afternoon, well into the early evening.
What a last three days I’ve had. The two tumbles on Sunday, thanks to the bleeding from the groin par, put the mockers on Monday. Tuesday and the Kodak broke my heart by packing up on me. And gives me hell. I suppose I could order a camera from Amazon… Ah, I did that last time, so I must have one somewhere that is battery-powered… A futile spurt of hope arose!
I searched everywhere without any joy in finding it. Slowly, it dawned on me that the camera had been dropped down the waste chute while I tried to take a shot of the tube inside when it was first fitted.
I’m going to get something to eat and think about my situation. I heated a part-baked long cob with tomatoes and Sopocka, using no butter, butter.
I changed my mind and looked at the cameras on Amazon. They were far too expensive. I’ll wait until my pension goes into the bank and how much there is before spending to get a better one. Or give up altogether.
This reminds me that I still can’t access the bank account until Warden Julie gives me all the details she kindly took to sort and print out for me.
The carer came and examined both cameras. He said they were both dead, but the cheap one may work if I recharge it. It’s possible that the connection was loose when I recharged it yesterday. So, I charged it again, ensuring the plugs were solidly in place and the blue recharging light lit up.
No medications were needed. He removed my socks, picked up a drink and nibble, and went home. Thanking him.
I was settled to watch TV when I remembered I had not eaten anything yet. I went through a hard battle against my desire for sleep and got up to make a meal. I got as far as the door, and in the dark, I could see the flashing blue charging light on the camera. So, that told me that the camera was fully charged when it failed. I took it off the charger and meandered into the kitchen, and after making my meal, I tried to take a photo of it. GOTTEN HIMMEL It Worked!
I tried again on the evening view… Wunderbar!!!
Note: The morrow morning, all pleased with myself, I used the miraculously working old camera again.
You will see the disastrous quality dip in the quality of the resulting pictures on Wednesday’s blog. I was very disappointed. I may get better results late in the day, but I think that is because I have more misled hope than faith.
Sir Keir and wife Victoria beam after bagging free £4000 Taylor Swift tickets: In summer 2023, Sir Keir was treated to a week in accommodation for four people in beauty spot the Gower Peninsula worth £4,500.
While planning his lies-ridden election triumph in July, Sir Keir welcomed many gifts and hospitality with open arms, including designer clothes, glasses, and tickets to several football matches. Keir and his wife, Ms Reeves and Rayner, also received donations for work outfits. In June, the deputy prime minister, Ms Rayner, received a £3,550 donation for work clothing from Lord Alli. Rachel Reeves £380k freebie and payments as she scrapped pensioners’ Winter Fuel Allowance.
In October 2023 and February 2024, he was given £10,000 and then £6,000 respectively from Lord Alli.
In April, Lord Ali gave Keir £16,200 for ‘Work Clothing’ £16,200.
Sir Keir has also received accommodation worth £20,437 between May 29 before the election and July 13 after the win.
Lord Alli treated Sir Keir’s wife, Victoria, to approximately £5K worth of clothes. The clothes are understood to have been at Lord Alli’s £18 million London penthouse, which would have cost £444 per night if he had stayed there daily.
Accommodation for four on the Gower Peninsula. Set up by Rod Lloyd. Value: £4.400.
Arsenal fan Sir Keir received tickets and hospitality totalling around £19,000 for twelve football matches from August 2023 to June this year, including nine when his beloved London Arsenal team was playing.
Sir Keir enjoyed a Taylor Swift concert in the Premier League. As for social events, Sir Keir was one of five Labour MPs who declared freebies at Taylor Swift concerts.
The Prime Minister declared the gift of four hospitality tickets from the Premier League to see the Shake It Off singer at Wembley Stadium in June, at an estimated value of £4,000.
Sir Keir also received four tickets to the Jingle Bell Ball with hospitality from Global Media and Entertainment Ltd. last December, worth £800.
In May, the National Theatre treated Keir to four tickets to see Nye worth £358.
The only freebie not accepted was a bottle of Vinegar from Nottingham blogger Inchy. Rejected when it was discovered it contained arsenic. Value: 49p
Sir Keir’s Football Freebies Since August 2023:
Crystal Palace Football Club – Three tickets with hospitality for Crystal Palace v Arsenal, valued at £2,142
Swansea City AFC – Five tickets with hospitality for Swansea City v Bournemouth, valued at £800
Cain International UK Services Ltd – Two tickets with hospitality to the Chelsea vs Arsenal football match, valued at £2,400
Teescraft Engineering Ltd – Four tickets with hospitality for Newcastle United v Arsenal, valued at £1,000
West Ham United Football Club – Two tickets for pre-match hospitality in the Chairperson Lounge and to the match, valued at £2,000 (estimated)
Norwich City Football Club – Four match tickets and hospitality, valued at £820
Premier League – Five tickets with hospitality to Arsenal vs Porto, value £3,000
Manchester City Football Club – Hospitality and match tickets for two people to Man City vs Arsenal, valued at £900.
Brighton and Hove Albion Football Club, four tickets and hospitality to Brighton vs Arsenal, valued at £500.
Wolverhampton Wanderers Football Club – Four tickets and hospitality to Arsenal vs Wolverhampton Wanderers value £1,488 (approximate)
Tottenham Hotspur Ltd – Five tickets and hospitality to Tottenham Hotspur vs Arsenal, value £2,500 (approx).
Manchester United: Two tickets in the Directors Box, with dining at Old Trafford. v Arsenal. Valued at £1800.
The only freebie rejected was a bottle of Vinegar offered by blogger Inchy. It was found to contain arsenic. Value 39p
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TO BE OR NOT TO BE… To be or not to be beheaded… Be hung, poisoned or electrocuted,
Shot, walk the plank or be guillotined,
For you have killed, murdered…
The UK death penalty was abolished,
Life sentence, murderers are pleased,
After 3 years, many have been released,
Now, HMP workers are beleaguered,
Freeing killers just to save money,
I know it will lead to anarchy,
Murderers are just let free early,
To kill again, by HMG; approvingly!
They’ve tried things, therapeutically,
Chop off rapist choppers antiseptically,
Else, there’ll be disorder, catastrophe,
Pandemonium, bedlam, antipathy,
Course, this is only advisory…
Could we start with someone miserly?
By winter’s end, he’ll have killed so many,
I refer, to Pensioner-Killer Herr Starmer,
Who I hear wears a willie-warmer…
Keir will have murdered many a pensioner,
By the end of this freezing winter,
Drove to suicide many a farmer,
His defence? He’s caught habromania?
The man’s a shyster, & a proven liar,
I’m sorry if I sound like an inveigher,
We must get rid of this political vulture,
If we don’t stop him, he’ll kill more for sure,
I advise him to wear his Kevlar!
I’m a bit of transcendental augurer, But indications of the future for Starmer, It is vague & as confusing as Keir’s hylomania, It’s hard to read such a hornswoggler… I’ve been depressed so heretofore, Suddenly, I want to live longer… Long enough to see him go to the hereafter! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I returned to an imitation, pseudo-pretend life at 04:00hrs, with the regular springing awake and waiting for Diabetic Doreen to sort out my cerebrum and get that to work in a guise or manner that would allow me to realise that it was really 04:00hrs and work out what day it was. Then, I tackled the nocturnal catheter pouch disconnecting. Which was a more straightforward job this morning. Since I’d drifted off to sleep in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner last night, and didn’t make it to the bed. Carer Chris, who did the last call last night. Christ got the large quilt from the bed and over me. He knew I would never get to the bed, he said, this morning. Apparently, I was in a seizure when he arrived. I was muttering, struggling to get words out, and not really with it. The lad’s reading me now that he knows about my ailments and how they sometimes affect me.
I grabbed and limped into the kitchen, with a sudden feeling from my EQ that I may have left the taps running, the fridge or freezer door open, or the oven on last night in my overtired slumber. EQ is rarely wrong. Sadly, he wasn’t this morning, either. Getting into that kitchen gave me more than one surprise this morning. First, the windows had iced up, the temperature was -5°c, and the freezer door had, as I feared, been left open! I had to throw away some of the partially defrosted food. On the bright side, less food went into the bin than when I left the freezer door ajar last time. (Two days ago) Tsk! For the outside of the window glass, I got some paper towelling and wiped it to see through it. And there, even for my eyes to see, high in the sky, was the Moon and two planets in view, Jupiter and Venus, if I remember correctly. Despite the freezing ice on my hands and in the air, I decided to get the Kodak to try and get a decent shot of the Moon and planets. These are the best of them to make it to the SD card. Four did not? I still can’t determine what I’m doing wrong to make so many photographs disappear. I looked into the internal photos on the camera, but they were not there. I could see the planets in every shot I took; I had my reading glasses on to see the screen on the Kodak camera. However, some, like the SD card, did not reach the end product again. Yet some did, turning up on the SD card. Was it instilled and installed by 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, which I’m already battling with Diabetic Doreen Dementia and Cogniscent Impairment Iris, to keep my marbles? Unglesitknangles!
I meandered to the wet room, returned to make sure I’d shut the freezer door after cleaning up, returned to the wet room, and deposited myself on the WC. Where I stayed for a while. Because an “It’ll come anytime now” type of sensation lingered for ages. All I managed to clear was several incontrollable blasts of wind. So, I gave up, despite that nagging doubt that it just may spurt of its own accord remained with me. I had a wash & shave, medicated various body parts in need, got fresh PPs on, and made up the waste bags. (The photo didn’t show on the SD card – Humph!)
Whatever happened to the day? Where did it go? I recall Carer Joanne coming, and we were having a laugh.
I know I had just a few of earlier, I thought I was in one when Joanne was here. But she said nothing. When we were both laughing at my struggle to get words out and forgetting what I was talking about, as we joked and laughed, I’m sure of it. Well… Later, while taking a break from the arduosity of getting the blog done, I checked the camera and a photo I knew nothing about until I viewed it, and it came back to me. Anyway, here it is. The frost and ice are still there, and at 1°c, I’m not surprised. The balcony door cracked as the ice fell off. Not looking too good.
I made a JS order for next week. Tried to keep it low, but as usual, I had to go over the £40 limit in case they had something out of stock. That puts me in line for a delivery charge.
Back on the blog, I realised that they were coming thick and fast. Some seemed to last only a few seconds, and I felt giddiness a few times between each one. But I coped with them in the morning without any real bother, which I find positive. When they first started hitting me, they fritted and unsettled me. Now, this change is getting me a smidge worried. I’ll phone 111 in the morning, no, on Monday, and ask for advice.
On a more positive note, tonight, my urine is a much better, lighter colour. It still stinks, though. I must get on with the blog. I’m taking too long on the odes or making them too long. Even two days ago, I worked on one until three in the morning. I can’t help it. I love doing them. Sad, because they’re not good.
The sun did come out today, as it was about to disappear over the horizon. The frost is now mostly melted, but not in the areas the sun did not reach. I thought at first that they looked like snow clouds. When Carer Chris came, I heated a steak pastie, told him it would soon snow, and showed him this picture of the clouds. He looked at his computer on his phone, and the weather forecast didn’t mention snow. So much for my humble and wrong predictions. Hahaha!
I continued with this blog. Amazingly, gave me rest after Chris had been and medicated me, had his nibble and a can of pop. It took him about ten seconds to see off the steak pastie. It was unexpected to him, and he enjoyed it so much. Which cheered me up, too.
I was not doing very well in the concentration stakes, then, aha, another summoning from the innards arrived; Get yourself to the wet room post haste! So I did just that. But it was all in vain again! I must have spent another half-hour on the Throne. Grunting as I tried my bestest to urge and encourage something to move… But no! For the second time today, Zilch moved. I’m hoping that by taking a prescription powder immediately, I shall have a third visit, which might be a success. Otherwise, especially after eating my meal later on, my innards may just blow up or explode!
I’m getting beyond the capability of concentration now. I shall maketh a meal. Blimey, the higher clouds have changed so much now. Still beautiful.
Meatless pork sausages, chestnuts, and tomatoes. Six slices of Milk Roll bread, one for each sausage, and a dip of BBQ Tomato ketchup. Two desserts: Lemon and custard and jelly.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – BONUS STARMER BASHING ODE! Don’t let Starmer get you depressed, Despite pensioners he attacked, In free-clothes, he gets dressed, And the lies that he’s amassed, Starmer, being a backhander & biased… The farmers he has tax-bushwhacked, As PM, he should be uninstalled, The man is totally unscrupled, The Torie are beyond being annealed, Leaving Starmer with an open field… To do as he likes, unimpeded, At no.10, he’s firmly bivouacked, His lies & gift-taking have been obsignated, Surely he must now be prescited? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Farewell, & Look after Yourself. If farmer or pensioner cause… STARMER WON’T!
I wish I didn’t hate Liberty-Global anymore… My distrust of them makes my brain sore, L-G bought Virgin Media, costing $24b for sure! The internet service has grown evermore poor… Phone to complain you get an AI advisor, an IVR, I wish to leave! You’ll not get an answer… You get put through to talk to another, You listen for an hour to a musical overture, Another robot answers: pick options 1 to 24, Get to speak to a human with their own agenda, Offering packages that can save you more… You stop to take a tablet, an antiseizure. Upgrade to the £240 monthly package, It’s on offer, 25.2% off until November! Of course, it’s all crap, a load of bilgewater, Then the line goes dead, Hell & Highwater! These Virgin agents are getting smarter… Their whims, cons, & deceit is getting cagier, Days later, they ring you! To tell yer… EE have a fantastic new customer offer? Also, BT has one that’s a little costlier… But their broadband is so much bigger? You’d be better off going onto our fibre! You say I’ll think about it, my dear… You ring off, thinking there’s summat queer… Are they using a sort of counterpropaganda? Their response you can’t decipher, So puzzled, you decide to consult Alexa!
The reason soon becomes plain to see… Liberty-Global bought Virgin; we agree… The Chair of L-G get a $64m salary yearly, They are so rich, beyond any moderator, Bought out/invested in many a supplier… Vodafone, BT, EE, UPC, Canal+, Three… The world’s largest cable company., Mango, Yves Rocher, Pizza Hut, & ITV plc, So, recommending offers from another company, Makes sense now, at least to me, clearly… So, they might be the biggest Oligarchy? With the world facing its fatal finale, Oligarchs beseech: Can I take it with me? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What an odd day! I can honestly say, Come what may, The morning was alackaday, The afternoon… Oh yay… The seizures refused to go away, Nothing could be done medically, I considered my options, alcoholically, Ruined my chances of adaptability, Errors in spelling, a missed apostrophe… Grammar, spelling, correcting, abominably, Plans executions all with indeterminacy, The entire day flowed with ambiguity, I say flow, twas a stutter in reality, So long and often spent condemnatorily, My own thoughts & intentions were a mystery, Ideas created, seconds later were history… No contentment, satisfaction, peace or equanimity, Yet a Carer saved the day, it was Chloe, An email arrived; Telegraph was taking my money, £239 for my supposed subscription pay?
Chole soon made this worry go away,
She cancelled it for me – Hurrah!
Seizure Sandra started again, alarmingly,
More blog mistakes, I got little done accurately,
I struggled to analyse even simple things today,
Until 1700hrs, when Sandra went away…
Typing this, expecting her to be back shortly,
I apologise for this blog, which is also shortie,
Not the right word, but it rhymed, you see,
After regaining a modicum of semi-logicality,
I did my best to try to be poetically witty
So, I wrote you all this funny little ditty,
Which you may consider a pity?
It’s less exciting than embroidery,
Neither is it extraordinary,
My mind’s less fragmentary,
I feel better; fractionally,
I’ve lost my lunacy,
I now feel… solitary,
Alone, lonely,
Is it January?
I’m hungry,
It’s back… the caducity! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I got carried away there. It is now 18:25hrs. I’ve no chance of getting this done unless another one of my working through the early morning sessions. I’ll rush; forgive any blaring mistakes & cock-up, please. Here I go. No, I don’t! I just remembered I’ve got a food order coming! I’d better wait until that arrives; otherwise, I’ll be lost if the Seizures start again. Here I go, a quickie, I hope… I must not get so carried away when typing, do you hear me? Me: Yes, sorry.
Nocturnal Pouch.
Waste bags were collated & taken to the chute. Feel guilty now; it was too early in the day!
Changed the date and day on my super-modern 1972 calendar clock. Shot through the kitchen window. Rain relacing the snow now.
Made a brew of Co-op 99 tea.
Seizures started, and the following may be out of chronological order.
Balcony shot. What a mudslide!
In the afternoon, most of the morning events were lost. Carer Richard came, but I can’t read my memory notes for Richards’s visit. So, no details.
I recall taking this shot. I was flabbergasted to see they still had scaffolding on this home. Over a year now since I first saw it? Cowboys?
It took this one later.
Afternoon blue skies.
Food en route.
Evening.
Found my sense of humour when the seizures eased off. Took this snap of the Nurses and Carers nibble box. Then, this close-up. I think the Mars bars and Twix have been mating? Hahaha!
Carer Chloe helped me sort out the email from the Telegraph about them charging me for my subscription. What I can’t remember taking out? For over £200! Chloe sorted it out and showed me how to cancel it. ♥ Well, she did it!
Carer Promise did the last two calls today. With me coughing & sneezing, he found a short pair of diabetic soaks to go on and took off the long ones. Kind of him.
Later in the evening. I took these snaps
Here’s some of the nosh delivered. From the Co-op via Amazon.
Now, I am going to get something to eat, And see if any football is on the telly to watch. If I can stay awake, of course.
I will be back in the morning to update you on this.
G’d Morning! Two cheesy rolls with non-butter butter & cheese spread. Sliced tomatoes (No finger cuts). Marmite & salt added! Onion rings, pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes & onions. Water chestnuts, chicken thigh. Two naughty strawberry doughnuts to follow. The chicken was tasteless, hence a lower rating.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – No chance of my thoughts getting rejuvenation, My original creation, lost in the brains reticulation, I move on to something of no relation, I fear that I’ve hosted retardation, My thoughts bear little relation… To the current topic, No reconceptualization, FND & Dementia, both a rapscallion, No medical understanding or ratification, Sneezing, coughing, farting & ructation, Common sense, logicality in retrogression, Practicality and hope are past their rubicon… Sanity & I are beyond reconciliation! Acne, eczema, boil in my bellybutton, Daily existence is now a botheration, I’ve gone downhill since my confirmation, Existence has become challenging, an aberration, No peace, joy, company or coruscation, I’ve lived my life in bourgeoisification, My plans and designs became just a botheration, – – – – – – – – – – To the world, these are my last claims, declarations, I claim to have more than most do of individuality, You do that when your life’s been an abomination, Life was good until my 60th birthday celebration, I’d been thrown in the canal, but life was fun, Then my life suffered, a massive bifurcation… Had to have a major heart operation, Went deaf, Cataract, a rear-passage operation… Fell into a fishing pond when on vacation, Made redundant, jobless, the humiliation, Job hunting was a complete circumbilivagination… Ending, failing, no one employing… 62-year-old Inchy, accused of shirking! By the Department of Employment & working, All I could get was a job in Security Guarding, I shot twice, minimum pay, embarrassing! Redundant again, by the Sawley Security, This was the end of working for me, A duodenal Ulcer lodged in my tummy, Then diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy, They made my testicles, Cancer-free, Cognitive Impairment came to lodge with me, Bladder Cancer diagnosed dauntingly, Catheter Contraption was fitted for free, Ever since, every day has been agony, Then Dementia was discovered, then FND, All getting worse, thankfully slowly… The bowels passing, either solid or mushy, Never normal… but that’s me to a tea! I should be complaining vociferously… Then Starmer gets in, tragically, Oozing criminogenically: corruptively, Lining his pockets with things for free… I’ve lost the plot of this Ode… Sorry! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A much better week! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up after trying to get back to sleep for a long time. I was in the c1966, £300 second-hand charity shop-bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-Testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. A lousy night, the worst one for ages, and I was so tired, but Sweet Morpheus didn’t want me to rest. I must have nodded off dozens of times. It felt like each one was on for only minutes. Hey-Ho!
0430 hrs: I got my horrendously massively-bellied body out of the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner. My first task was removing the attached nocturnal catheter pouch from the day bag.
I must admit, I surprised myself as I started to hobble around with . The balance was, as usual for that time of day, dodgy. But I noticed that my were much kinder to me this morning. I decided to take advantage and set to do a few jobs while I felt capable. I sorted all the waste bin liners into one big bin liner and put them near the door. I’ve only got one outer door, so it was easy to find. Hahaha! I am a fool. I started cleaning the kitchen tops but diverted to the wet room. As I was on my way, I thought something was wrong here; yesterday, Constipation Conrad was in complete control, and my innards warned me to move on to avoid earlier-than-planned leaks or evacuations. Good job that I did rush, too. It was milliseconds after I’d got seated that the tsunami started. It lasted for a good while. The cleaning up took a long time. I creamed and ointmentated the required areas of my anatomy… is that the right word? Half an hour later, all was done. I avoided putting on the protective pants by foolishly not wearing fresh ones after washing. Why? I’ll tell you. The pain from the Catheter tube can be worse when putting the Tena ones on. Usually, especially when Trotsky Terence is active, there is a chance that I’d be caught out later on with involuntary escapages. Even if no one knows, I’ve often felt so embarrassed in this situation. Writing this prompted an iota of common sense. And I went to put some on. The agony of bending the knee caused me to lose balance, and I tore the pants. They are not cheap. I tried again, and more pain aided me to force the leg to go in. Unfortunately, I lost balance and hit my right knee against the Porcelain. Was not amused, and let me know. Suddenly, I lost my appetite for getting jobs done.
In a semi-sulk, I got the kettle on and took this photograph of the very early morning view on offer from the kitchenette window. There was no fog, a few clouds, and the winds had died down from yesterday. The outside temperature on the computer was showing Nottingham as 0.0ºc. Freezing?
As I started on the computer, I had a bout of phlegm coming up and sneezing. Within maybe a minute, they both stopped. There’ll be a reason for this. Then my nosh started to bleed and run into my mouth and onto my chin? I was busy soaking it up for about ten minutes before I stopped the main flow. The handle was handy as a kitchen roll holder near the computer chair. Cunning!
I checked the cupboard for snacks. The micro rice stood out, so I decided that would do. I seasoned it with water, added basil and BBW flavouring, and boiled the water. Then, I grabbed the packet – ! Would you like to guess the sell-by-date I found on the packet? Here are some loose clues for you: ⒈I threw the rice away. ⒉The date was when the UK Covid-19 vaccinations started. ⒊The four numbers of the year add up to 6, one being a nought. ⒋Three numbers are the same. ⒌These three rhyme with stew. Go on, have a guess, just for a bit of fun!
Carer Chris issued the medications, put the diabetic socks on my legs and had a nibble and drinkie-poo. He” be back, he said. Haha! While Chris was here, I had several mini-seizures in a very short time. After I’d cleared my head, Chris said that I had them in the computer chair, and I was bumbling instead of talking and shaking on my right side, with my head down throughout. He was on the verge of calling 999 when I suddenly started talking usually, but I didn’t know I had been in the first place. Chris had to shoot of, and I felt different, but not poorly or anything like that. Just slightly confused. I thought. But the (about) next two hours disappeared.
Carer Joanne called for the midday visit & to see how I was. And I was normal. Well, as normal as I’ll ever be.
I took a forgotten afternoon view through the inner glass door of the balcony. Then, I continued updating, checking over and correcting many mistakes in the latter part of the blog.
Carer Joanne came. Asking how I was, I said fine, thank you. Bless her ♥
Returned, but they were back to the regular sort. Some of them lasting just a minute or thereabouts. I know where I am with these. Well…
Darkness dawned. I took these snaps. The lovely blue hue was back tonight.
I’m waiting now for the eveningCarer to arrive. Soon, I hope. Cause I’m getting hungry, but not enough to rescue that rice. Hahaha!
I’ll do some work on this blog while waiting.
No good, I’ll have to make a meal! Milk Roll bread bacon with sliced tomato sarnies. Home-made pickled mushrooms, pickled green tomatoes and onion, and pickled water chestnuts. I forgot to put the pickled beetroots on the plate. Tsk! A pot of pickled ketchup for dunking the sarnies it. And a lemon dessert.
After eating and washing up, Carer Chris arrived, and I sat down to see if there was any football in the box. He came early and was in a rush, which suited me. He didn’t skip or miss any medications, took my diabetic socks off, and put on the night catheter bag. However, in the morning, I discovered he had forgotten to retake the laundry and the waste bag. Otherwise, he’s been a good lad this week. Bless him.
The football was on the box, but not for an hour yet. I struggled to stay awake until it started. As usual, I drifted off into slumberland when the first adverts came on goggle-box. I woke up with a jump when the football programme screen credits started rolling as it finished. I seem to have a habit of doing this. Humph!
I turned off the TV and went back to Sweet Morpheus. I kept waking up so often I got annoyed by it. However, each time, I got back to sleep quickly. When I woke again, I could see through the window that snow had fallen.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
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. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – For me, a gal must ooze pulchritudinous, It matters not if she is or isn’t punctilious… Precarious, precautious, or even predaceous! As long as she’s not pompous or pretentious, She can show practicalness or be pecunious, Be prosperous, silly, or pugnacious, Be pretentious, previous, or procacious, For one to attract me, she must be plumptious, No need for her to be clever or perspicacious I’m not after bodily prettiness, As long as she likes a laugh and is pervious, I pray she’ll not be disloyal or perfidious, A septuagenarian, & a smidge mischievous! I could buy us a couple of paragliders, Sorry if that sounded a smidge perverse,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a bad fall when I reached this stage, so I called it Part One and posted it off. An hour or so later, the nurse called, tending to the burst bag and bleeding from the tumble. Bless Her♥. I’ve made a brew of Glengettie and am starting again from here. I doubt if I’ll get this finished before midnight… well, I won’t. I wanted to stay awake to take the celebration fireworks at midnight, but I fear it may be too much. I’m praying that the seizures leave me alone. Depression creeping in again! – – – I’ll press on – Seizures and if the catheter allows it. – – – I’ve had a couple of bad days. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:30hrs: I grumblingly rose from the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Knowing that after yesterday’s farcicalness, I had a busy day ahead of me. The morning’s Carer, then the domestic Carer, the food delivery, the INR Warfarin Nurse Hristina, and the midday Carer, and I was so far behind with the blogging I didn’t think I’d get yesterday done, let alone start on today. (Just the usual bleak morning moan to myself, nowadays) Little did I know what I had in store, or I may not have bothered getting up! I wish I hadn’t got up now, but not then. I think I got that right?
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. This is one of them I had to buy cause of the mess up and lack of help with my ordering. Some do have a drainage clip that has no drainage tube. Took it to the WC and used scissors to cut and drain the pouch. Still, it was no bother and went okay. As I got to the kitchen to get the kettle on, the innards grumbled and rumbled; in response, I returned hastily to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence was now back in full control! The evacuated product funked awful. It took me ages to clean up the splatters from my clothes and the china.
I got the ablutions, a stand-up shave, teggies, body scrub, oiled the earholes, and drops in the eyes. Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Barrier Creamed the Acne & Eczema. Then Porpain Gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cartilage Carol & Chloe’s knees, the underbelly lesions & underarms. I couldn’t reach Phorpain Gel Back Pain Brenda; I was going to ask someone, a Carer, when they came next. But of course, I forgot all about it, even when she was playing me up! I’m forgetting more each day! Into the kitchen. I tried to get some decent shots of the views on offer through the window. But the photos didn’t come out very well. Not up to even my low standards. The last one I took of the houses on Cavendish Avenue was one of my biggest photograph failers ever. No idea what I did wrong, but Surely I must have done something wrong to get this terrible result on the right?
I returned to the wet room to ensure I hadn’t left the taps running. As I came out, the intercom chirped at me. I could not see who it was, so I thought it might be the deliveryman with the oh-so-expensive night catheters I’d had to order. But no! It turned out that it was Friday’s (as I thought) JS order. Fancy me getting things wrong like that! The driver kindly put the food in carriers and my boxes and then carried them to the kitchen for me. Kind of him. Spent a lot of cash this time! Mushrooms for pickling later on. Jamaica patties, a lamb and a beef one. Pork Pie, no-butter butter, Cornish Pasties, tomatoes, cream cake treats, and some horrendously pricey garden peas from Nigeria. I love these! Marmite Rice cakes, cheesy-topped rolls, a bag of sea salt & cider crisps and Marmite crisps. A bottle of mulled wine. Reduced to clear after Christmas. A large bottle, cans of Sainsbury’s cider, and a bottle of washing-up liquid.
I took this snap of myself inside the main junk room, looking through the balcony doors and blowing my nose. Then took the photo below as the day slowly dawned, and turned brighter. I sorted the waste bags to make room near the doorway; no carer had taken them. So, I took them to the chute and found an empty box there, just like Christopher had taken away from the flat yesterday. I put the three bags down the chute and broke the box up, which also went in. I hobbled back to the flat foyer, and as I did, it gave way to me, and I walked into the foyer door frame. I believe I said, “Well, fancy that!”
Carer Chloe arrived as I was about to put the food away after the photography session. She gave me medications, and I was lucky—yes! Although I didn’t realise it, and Chloe didn’t notice it, I’d dropped a tablet while taking them. Chloe said she was doing the Domestic visit and would be back later. I walked her to the door. When I got back in, and at long last on the computer, I espied a tablet I’d dropped on the carpet. And a good job, too; it was a beta-blocker! Not one to miss.
It was a mental battle trying to sort out what was what and what needed doing with having yesterday’s to do yet.
Chloe returned to do the domestic run. I started to place an order for next week from Asda, but again, it would not let me get on the site. Grrr!
I struggled to communicate with Chloe, yet I always seemed to be waffling and losing track. Then, my beloved Nurse Hristina arrived while Chloe was hoovering the hallway for me. What a triple blessing it was that she came! When I told her about the farce of running out of night catheters and buying them, she found the number to ring, then called them for me on her mobile, too! ♥ I’d mentioned to her earlier that the cotton wool-looking material came through the tube from the bladder and got stuck, causing the uncomfortable flow back sensation. Hristina told whoever she was talking to, and they told her that it would be a bladder infection and that they would send a nurse to see me when they got back from the New Year Break and ordered the catheters straight away, wanting to know why the Carers had not contacted her. Hristina then showed me how to open the night bag to drain it! Worth her weight in gold she is! The most patient and understanding nurse I’ve ever known. 💛 She helped me today more than anyone else has in weeks. Hristina left, leaving a respectful and appreciative Inchy.
Carer Sam did the middle call. We laughed about things I was going through, which helped me cope.
Carer Joanne 💛, on her way home, called to see me. She collected the not machine-washable laundry. I insisted she pick up a bottle of her choice as a New Year’s treat. (I did the same with each Carer today) She said that her elderly neighbour had gone to the hospital, so she was late in collecting the washing. I can tell you that a woman who takes, hand washes, and returns my nightwear and brings it back for me is yet another angel I’ve acquired. My sort of gal, too.
I managed about five minutes on the blog, and the landline chimed up. The call was from Sister Jane. Not heard from her for a while. All the best for the new year sort of thing. But had a good chat. Jane & Pete are going to the pantomime shortly. She was sorting the food, and Pete the booze. Hehehe! The natter brought up memories to share between us, all good or neutral ones, though. Nowt unnice!
I tried to get some more done on the blog. The landline chirruped again. It was from the Doctor’s surgery receptionist. She advised me of this morning’s blood test result (Gawd, that was quick). Apparently, the INR level plummeted from 3.2 to 2.6, which is not good. The medication doses were also increased. I wrote the details on Google Calendar.
Then, back to have another go at this blog. Life seems like an awful slog! I waited for my brain to defog, Then I had an in-the-bog! I emptied the pouch, cleaned and flushed the WC, and turned to leave. As I went through the door, I accidentally shoulder-charged the door frame. Apart from triggering Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, I let slip a few vulgar words that I shall not repeat here.
I returned to the computer again and finished about 15 minutes of work. The door chime chimed out! En route to the door, this time, Cartilage Carole gave way. I opened the door, and to my delight, the postman was working late and delivering my eBay-bought nocturnal catheters! We had a chinwag, as we both have catheters, but he has the latest ones, which look so painless to wear; I was jealous when he told me the other week about it. He is being sent supplies that have built up, and he has too many! Another twitch of jealousy crept in; Hahaha! He kindly told me that if I was ever running so low again, I was to put a note on the door, ‘Barry, I’m short on night catheters’. He even checked on my catheter to ensure the tubing was the same size. What a kind, thoughtful gentleman he is! I gathered the items needed to make the pickled mushrooms. got the mushroom in the slow cooker, on a high heat,
Hope it works okay.
Going to take a photo of the evening sky, this time it was who went on me. Most unfortunately, I clunked down onto the left knee with a sickening thud, and once again, I gave a clouting . The Catheter Day pouch took a good hit but surprisingly did not split open. Even more amazingly, as I was about to get back into the main junk room and the recliner to get back up again, I grabbed the sink side and got up; painfully, but I got up! Within a minute of getting down in 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, to recover from the fall and Phorpain gell certain areas, knees, back and where I could reach of the shoulder.
And the doorbell sounded its version of ‘Oh, Susana’. It was a Community Nurse. She’s come in response to Nurse Hristina’s telephone call to look at my wedding tackle area regarding the cause of the bladder infections. I went into a deep seizure while we were talking. I thought she had Phorpain gelled my back and for me. I’m unsure what else occurred, but I was deeply out of it. But she seemed happy enough when she left, as I was returning to near normality. Well, that may be pushing it! Ah, she did give me a painkiller, I think… waylay that, now I’m writing this, I’m not so sure… something in my warped mind tells me she did. But, in the malaise of my muddled mind.
I sat still and quiet for a while. Then got back on the computer… Carer Chris arrived. No socks were taken off, and I was going to stay up to try to take some fireworks photos. He was given medications. I treated him to his bottle and cream cakes early, as he said he was not doing the late call. But no one made the late call. Well, it is nearly New Year’s Day.
It is now 5 minutes to midnight. I will hobble into the kitchen, camera around my neck, and await the hour.
It is now 0015hrs and the New Year! Photographs have been taken of the fireworks. Now, to see if I can get them on the computer. When I opened the window, the gusty winds blew in the just-starting rain! I’ve had to disrobe myself of the now wet bobcap and dressing gown! Humph! Hope the camera is okay!
Here Are NYD Firework Photos Taken
Art Decko?
Electric Art?
A bit of both?
Well, what can I say?
. I was getting wetter!
Ah, well, I did my best!
Ah, better get the mushrooms into the pickle jar. I would have a pastie, peas and chips for my morning meal. But I’m too worn out to bother now.
What a busy day again. I thought I retired 15 years ago?
0330hrs: Drained beyond belief. But hunger took a grip. Cooking is not easy when one is mentally and physically drained. Sometimes, one burns one’s vegetable pate, as seen below. Hehe! But I ate it all!
I went to get the pots and dishes washed. My eyes were almost closing as I did this. Then, as I had the light on and looked out of the window, I thought a final photo was called for to try and get a reflection shot of the kitchen, still seeing the relentless rain and me. But of course, you can’t photo wind. Hehe! I dragged myself into the junk room and deposited my tired, weary body and brain in the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner.
As no late Carer had arrived, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. Then, I ate a pot of jelly, put the TV on to catch the news, and planned to move into the hospital bed. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen. I’d nodded off into bliss within seconds of the TV adverts starting. Woke up with a jump later, turned off the TV, cleaned up raspberry jelly from my bulbous mountainous belly, and rejoined Sweet Morpheus. Where I stayed until 06:15hrs. Not a long kip, but it was much needed. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Despite the continuing Whoopsiedangleplops, Mishaps and Accifauxas of the last four days, today had some lovely touching moments that were well appreciated. The amazing Nurse Hristinas helping above and beyond. The kind postman’s offer over the night catheter bags. The community nurse called to check on me. Again, I won’t mention the many failings, irritations, and annoyances I suffered. I’m sick of hearing myself moan! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – To relax, I tried banzai. Or was that bonsai? I ended up in the hospital, nearly bled dry… Oh, with a cut lip, broken nose & a blackeye, I didn’t die, but I caught diplococci, Starmer, he does falsify and farcify… Pensioners, he hates, & will not fortify, He’s not been assassinated… I wonder why? I see food, fuel, etc. prices again rising high, Is he honest or a crook, you can’t identify,
Until they mug or kill you or poke you in the eye, Dictators, Oligarchs, Politicians crooked, why?
Warmongers, so many innocents die, Life is complicated; it needs formulae,
The violence is rife; it makes my brain lignify, MPs work creates mamihlapinatapai, If Starmer was a bird, he’d be a magpie! He lies, he’s greedy, creates profundify, He’ll eventually bleed the poor dry, To him, commoners are just succubi, Parliament needs to defunkify, Even if the end is nigh… This is all likely pie-in-the-sky? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I worked through the night, the bed untouched. Computing and Blog-Catch-Up.
At 05:30hrs, I emptied the urine pouch. While doing so, I decided to close the computer down and run a Ccleaner session. Then turn off the computer, and get the Ablutions & Medications sorted out. But first, I did a bit of flat-titivating. I sorted all the waste bins into two bags. I’d made a lot of rubbish while nearly falling asleep for so long. But despite this, Sweet Morpheus would not let me nod off. I checked on the pickling mushrooms by tasting one of them and a piece of water chestnut. They looked okay, but the flavour told me they may pickling for another day.
I hobbled into the wet room to make a start on the Ablutionisationing and Medicalisationing.
I thought the Renauds on my feet and toes looked much easier. But I still had my reading glasses on. This photo I took proved me wrong. Yes, I was tired, but I didn’t feel weary. Does that make sense? The feet washing in the bowl while I shaved and did the teggies went very well. And the shaving produced just 2 minuscule face nicks. I was doing well under the circumstances. The medicalisationing, apart from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion, seemed to go great! Even getting the PP’s one was less bother than usual. SMUG-MODE ENGAGED! Dried and dressing gown on. My plan to get into the bed was interrupted. As I sat in the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner, to watch another great 1950’s film in black & white. And drifter off into the bliss of sleep!
Carer Richard arrived. He was not in a gay mood, but I could tell he was upset about something. He didn’t laugh once during this visit. No, I told a lie! (I’m getting like Starmer!) My EQ told me he was not feeling well. I hope he feels better after he gets some kip and food inside him. Richard had the diabetic wadding on and supports on both legs again. After the lad had left, I soon drifted off into a much-needed but too short sleep.
Carer Chloe woke me up on her first call. I was deep in sleep. We chatted, but I’m not sure what it was about. I think it was Carer Chloe, my being rudely awakened. Hahaha!
I restarted watching the film. And fell off into bliss again, missing the end of the movie! Grumph! But I do need the sleep catching up on. I slept until an hour and a half later.
Carer Joanne woke me up. Bless her; she brought up my washing and kindly hung the laundered gowns for me in the hallway.
The sleep was a little longer this time, but I shot awake with Electric-Shocking-Sherida blasting away at me. She’s such a persistent ailment! I gave up on sleeping. Sherida had beaten me again! I took a photo of my beloved old-fashioned clock calendar. Nearing 15:00hrs. So I had to rise and get on the computer to start blog catching up all over again. Will it ever end?Hehe! I mustn’t moan; I think in between Carers calling. I got around five hours of sleep. But, I need more yet. On with the blog!
Two tasty-tasting cheesy-topped rolls slathered with mushroom pâté de campagne. Pickled shop-bought green-yellow tomatoes, red peppers and onions. Fish balls, cooked in the air-fryer, home-pickled water chestnuts & mushrooms. Followed by a pot of lemon fool dessert.
I found another 1950s black-and-white movie on the TV. I then settled in the c1966, £300 charity shop bought second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.to watch it, accompanied by the five empty packets in the bin in the morning of Frazzles!
I stayed awake enough to watch half an hour of the film, and when the adverts came on, I drifted irresistibly into the land of Nod with Sweet Morpheus. I was still in the chair 6 hours later when I woke up.
