– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I met a lassie in Aberdeenshire,
She offered me a cuppa, & romance with tincture,
She was married but delightfully, an advoutrer,
We blended into one sort of amalgamator,
We mangled certain limbs in particular…
We ended up boozier and bouncier,
I hope to see her again later…
I found Aberdeenshire to be boshter! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Yet another horrible night’s sleep. Forever waking up with jerk or jump, and this wrangled me last night. At 0440 hrs, I most unwillingly climbed onto the side of the hospital bed and removed the Nocturnal Night Pouch. I had given the urine a too-low rating, so I must change that on the NHS card later; Carer Chris said it was a six. I keep forgetting to change it.
I gathered the waste bin bags into one and left it near the door to take to the rubbish bin later.
Went to the kitchenette to check the tops, taps, stove, and doors.
On that short little hobble, Dizzy Dennis nearly caught me out; luckily, I’d got with me and avoided going over.
I arrived in the kitchen, I performed the safety checks. Nothing was out of place, left open, or running.
The fog outside still looked thick. But maybe a little less than yesterday’s did. I thought that his shot had an eerie aspect to it. I made a brew of 99 tea and got the computer booted up. I seemed to be doing well this morning. Only Dizzy Dennis, Cartilage Chloe, and Arthur Itis have been any bother up to now. Then, a summons ensued from my innards, warning me to urgently attend the Porcelain Throne.
A splurty, messy, smelly, and gooey dollop of excrement splodged into the ceramics. It took a while for me to get cleaned up. I mean for both the WC and me. Hehe!
I went to empty the urine from the day catheter pouch, and for the love of me, I could not get it to flow out. The thinnest, slowest, barely a trickle did flow. I tried to encourage things along. Jiggled and juggled the day bag, pulled it up, twisted it around the leg, and then lowered it… which brought on Dizzy Dennis again, and I had to give it a rest for a minute or so. I tried squeezing the transfer tube, twisting the plastic bag, and even praying, but to no avail.
I was on the computer. Something was playing up again with the text writing, and I was unsure what I’d done on Friday to prevent it from acting up again. After I pondered what I could do to correct the situation, Carer Maryham arrived.
I told her about the wee-wee being so reluctant. “Drink more water!” So I did. I also mentioned that I had only two nocturnal catheter pouches left. I didn’t think anyone would be working on a Saturday. Maryhan helped me find the telephone number for City Care on the computer, Bless Her! I was in a bit of a panic now, but I realised I’d got the days mixed up. IF… I can get through, and IF I can hear the voice on the other end on Monday, the situation may be saved… (or not); thanks, Maryham! ♥ She rushed off, taking the waste bags with her, so kind.
I kept on the computer and taking the water, but it was still a trickle at best. I went through the same procedures as before, and it didn’t get any slower, but the flow did not increase.
Drinking and blogging away, and a text message came on my super-modern mobile Nokia phone. A message told me my food order would arrive today within two hours. That will be the food order I’d just told Maryham was due next Tuesday… I assume. Erm?
CorelDraw was playing up now! About an hour later, during which I got nothing achieved on the blog, the intercom chimed in. I was the food order arriving. The driver placed them in the mini-hallway for me, I thanked him, and he asked if I was over 21. I said I’ve not ordered any alcohol, only soft drinks and water? We both laughed, which was nice! Four bags worth. I carried them one by one into the kitchenette. I seem to have treated myself to more fish balls, fishcakes and fish fingers, too! Oh, and a bag of potato croquettes. I got the frozen put away first. Once again, I had to take the fish balls out of both boxes and jiggle with the food in the freezer to get them in. It also took a bit of planning to get things in the fridge—not that I had a lot of stuff. I can’t recall ordering some of the items, but I did no fear dying from hunger.
That must be heartbreaking news for Pensioner killer Sir Keir Rodney Starmer. Rodney, as Del used to say… “You Plonker Rodney!” In the fictitious Trotter family. Har-har-har!
Afternoon Carer Joanne came, and she was very welcome. I showed her the photo of the last pouch emptying. Can you see the fluff-looking clump that came out after I rejiggled the bag and tube again? I expected the flow to be freer on the next emptying, but no! The flow is still about the width of the darning-needle-eye… at best! I have to bend to encourage it, which merely invites the attention of and has joined in the assault! Joanne is having trouble with her catheter, so we have that in common and things were not going right for either of us.
We shared a chunter. Hahaha!
I was not getting on well with the blog. After Joanne departed, I sulked a little and returned to the computer. I found some of the same types of
They were expensive but had no drainage pipe fitted and were half the price of the others. I ordered some, but they will not arrive before Tuesday, so I’ll not be able to wait until then. All the more important thing is to get in touch with City Care – Option Three on Monday. There may not be a blog on Monday cause I shall keep on trying to get through, and if they say you are the 19th customer in the queue, I’ll stay online and wait. Although knowing my luck, I’ll fall asleep or have a seizure and not recall what I was ringing for! I feel a depression coming on!
I had another go at the blogging. And the landline chirped! It was a lady from the Social Services. The line was terrible. This reminded me that the hearing aids still need sorting out, repaired, and mended. And how do I get a lift there and back? Anyway, she asked if I had time for a Q&A session. I hadn’t really got the time. But this rare, almost unheard-of opportunity to tell someone my problems could not be missed. It was hard work, and the lady shouted some questions after I’d asked her to repeat herself a few times. I mentioned the problems with the ablutions, the hearing aids getting repaired, shopping, the bank, etc. Of course, when she rang off, I thought of so many other things I struggle to get done, but it’s too late now.
She kindly said she would ring me back to update me on any plans made or altered. ♥
I got some potatoes in the slow cooker. Hopefully, I can have it later with cheese. But we’ll see, it’s getting late now.
Oh, I forgot to mention the crushed cream cakes delivered earlier. Most dissapointing. It looked like finger marks on the icing and cream. The cream had left the bread altogether. Maybe not so bad. I’m going to chew them up anyway. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel!
I went into the kitchen to see how the potatoes were coming along, and the fog was gone—there was just a light mist in the air! So, I took a left, centre and right shots of the view. The Carer may arrive soon. I’ll now go and get the oven warming up and try to get the cheese into the flesh of the potatoes. I’ve not had any of these for months now. Lack of injuries permitting, of course. Or seizures, tumbles, falls, walking into things… take your pick.
Chris made his last call around 0920hrs. The lad was rushing to go home, and he looked all in. However, he kept his chirpiness up and made sure Chris took the diabetic socks off, and he attached the next-to-last nocturnal catheter pouch we had. Gave the cream cake treats, and off he poddled. A nice lad.
Nosh started. Cheesy potatoes, fish balls, and garden peas.
Nothing else was needed!
This was the first proper cheesy potato dish I’ve made since the old oven conked out. I used the new mini-cooker, which was great because it was on top of the old cooker. I could check the crisping colouring at eye level as it cooked to ensure it was spot-on. I so enjoyed this one. It was worth all the time, bother and cleaning up afterwards! Great!
The cod balls I did in the air-fryer. I’ve not yet mastered this air fryer. But I’m slowly getting better.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
STARMERS FUTURE
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – On the humorous side… I’m not in control nowadays, just a minimum, Vascular Diabetic Doreen is tinkling with my cerebrum, Harold’s Haemorrhoids controlling my bleeding bum, Bleeding from cracked teeth, lips and gum, Seizures leave me lost and numb, Uneducated… what’s a quasi-isomorphism? Between me then and now lies an impassable chasm, I’ve lost my freedom, thus enthusiasm But I’m still moderately skilled in sarcasm, I was fully committed to activism… I could do it now on a good day, but they’re seldom, I’m still well-known for my altruism, Gone are my days of professionalism… Doing my ablutions? Best described as gruesome, I fought and beat off alcoholism! But struggle to free myself from fatalism, Dictatorship, Communism or Capitalism? All addicted to despotism and materialism, Oligarchal, favouritism, federalism, feudalism, Earthlings will never adopt pacifism… I view hope for this earth with scepticism, Why do I bother? I must be dumb, No wonder I’m feeling so glum, Will St Peter do humankind’s postmortem?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 0530hrs: I stirred from my broken sleep for maybe the twentieth time and decided to give up on sleep and get up. I was well pleased with the limited hassle I got from Cartilage Chloe as I hoisted my mega-sized, wobbly-bodied torso onto my feet. I felt much better than I did on yesterday’s rebirth into the torture of another day in my Nottingham-located Cell 72… no, flat, flat 72! My balance seemed much better, too!
I pondered on what the day may hold for me. It was a scary moment as my confidentless mind mused merrily over various possibilities and what mode of Accidauxpas or Whoopsiedangleplop would arrive first. I decided to get the nocturnal pouch off the day bag first, then check to see if I’d left anything like taps running overnight again. If I find the hot water tap running this morning, it will be for the third day on the trot.
I got my slippers on (painfully) and meandered to the kitchenette to check the things in there. Much to my relief, I found I’d not left the hot or cold tap running. I got the kettle on and photographed the foggy, dark, dank morning. The light was from some property. It looked a little like it could be the sky, but it wasn’t; in view that couldn’t be seen were Nottinghamian’s dwellings, roads, and streets. Possibly a few burglars at work, drunks still making their way home, muggers lurking, drug deals taking place, and many Nottinghamians, perhaps still sobering up from the Christmas Day party? I made the brew of Glengettie and turned to get the milk from the fridge. I found I’d left the fridge door open and the freezer one, too!
Which expletive should I use? To reveal exactly how I felt at that moment. Disappointment, self-loathing, frustration, irritation, disquietude, perturbation, self-condemnation, self-commination, blameworthiness or guilt?
I suppose any one or all of them. I chuntered away, swearing silently, lambasting myself. My spirits took another dip when I found that most of the frozen food was no longer frozen, and a puddle had poured out onto the kitchen floor that I had not noticed and had walked all over the kitchen floor.
Mopping up while using a walking stick is not one of the most straightforward jobs. But I cheerfully spent over an hour whistling and singing as I mopped it up.
A few more street lights can be seen in this second photograph of the early but not-so-early morning view from the kitchenette.
Made a brew; I’ll get to drink one soon. I took it to the computer and reset my old-fashioned calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived. The lad looked and sounded done for after his shift; I was his last call. I didn’t keep him waiting about this time like I did yesterday. He still has two leg braces on and is using a crutch-walker. I did not ask him to put the diabetic socks on for me. Bending does the lad and me no good. I’ll ask a later Carer to put the socks on, providing that I remember to, of course!
After Richard had departed on his way to a much-needed sleep, I had to pay the wet room a visit. I anticipated more trouble like yesterday from a Trotsky Terence session. I didn’t waste a second in getting in there, just in case of any unanticipated droppages before I could get myself seated. But no! Another reversal in controller this time. Was back in charge! I sat there urging, painfully pushing, to encourage the monster torpedo to move; it got stuck at what felt like an inch of the way out. Refusing to budge any further! I got the crossword book to help kill the waiting time but couldn’t resolve any clues. A while later, the monster moved. Gawd, it was a whopper! It must have taken a full minute to complete its escape. Massive it was! There was a tiny bit of bleeding from the haemorrhoids. I cleaned up and medicated. Naturally, the mug of tea had gone cold again.
So, I went back into the kitchen to make another one. I took another snap of the fog out there. It looks just the same now as I write this 4 hours later.
I did the morning BP test earlier, which produced the following results. SYS 151 DIA 70 Pulse 72, Temp 34.8 Level: HYPER
I did the evening check earlier than usual. SYS 144 DIA 68 Pulse 74, Temp 34.7 Level: Normal High, better!
I inspected the freezer to see if anything could be risked using and what needed dishing. A costly decision to do that. But better safe than sorry. I left the thawed-out bread and cobs in there; I think they can be refrozen safely. I took the bag of throw-outs to the waste chute and threw them in.
No trapped fingers this time!
Carer Sham called. I hadn’t seen her for months, and I got the feeling she didn’t want to be here (which was natural). But I managed to make her smile once. She was treated as all Carers were at Christmas. She left smilingly anyway.
What An Amazing Session This Was! Do you notice the acute lack of any shaving cuts in this photo on the right? Not a single one!
Then, I did the teggies and nasal spraying.
Before moving on to the joy of a good shower, I had to remove the muslin day catheter bag cover from the pouch and leg. 2: I got it off in what must have been a record time; at least, it seemed like it to me. (Although, I suppose there was a slight chance that I had a mini-seizure)
No Dizzies with the bending down, 3 no knocking anything off the floor cabinet, 4 no bruises or cuts. 5 No tearing of the mesh. 6 or accidents with the release valve. Brilliant!
Fair enough, I did tug at the tube stuck in Little Inchie, which caused me some pain… But 7, no bleeding!
I even adjusted the top two straps without causing any pain or harm. 8. Then, turn the shower power on in the hallway and collect the towel from the slow heater.
Turned the shower on. Got underneath the showerhead and carbolic soaped my blubbery-bellied body and ultra-thin bony legs and arms for ages. I wallowed in the shower.
I really enjoyed it!.
Showering was complete, so I set about drying off. First, the catheter contraption. I do that as advised using paper towels, I can’t remember why, but they told me to.
Then, my muscular young torso and bicep-ridden arms and legs. I won’t bore you with the whole routine. If I did, I might not live long enough to finish it! Hehehe!
The first task was getting the Catheter Contraption back on.
This did not go as easily as taking it off in the first place or anywhere but according to plan. Getting a muslin cover on caused a tear or two while trying to thread the tube and bag through it. . I ended up with , and the newly grown leg ulcer got a clout as I battled . I banged it against the corner of the floor cabinet. All the bending down set off bleeding. Still, I thought I’d done a decent job in the end with the catheter.
The other medications went alright. Even stopping the bleeding and ointmentating Little Inchies fungal lesion went okay. Painful, but okay!
1400hrs: And just look at the effect of the fog! Can’t even see the Christmas lights put there now. It could be dodgy for the Carers to get in. Or home!
Pigs in blankets, frozen and oven-cooked for 40 minutes. The paper-thin bacon evaporated from the sausage.
They’d left me alone for a time; I’d forgotten about them.
FURRY TWO OF THE WEEK Dougs furry, Andy.
He’d just got back from the veterinarian.
He’s doing alright. Medication continues.
A characterful cat.
We all love him on WP.
I was weary, closed the computer that I was initially going to go back on, and fell asleep (bliss!) in the second-hand, £300, c1968, overwhelmingly sickening beige coloured, tatty, uncomfortable, wobbly, germ-producing, falling to pieces, food residue-collecting recliner.
I awoke with Carer Chris’s face in mine and a big smile on his mush, telling me he thought I’d snuffed it. Laughter from both parties. Hehehe!
I tried to stay awake to watch the football on TV, but I fell asleep and woke up in time to catch the ending credits of the film that followed the football. Grrr!
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m not having any Christmas fare, I’ll treat the Carers & Nurses, to be fair, Mentally failing, but I still want to be a blogger It now takes so much longer, it’s a bugger, I feel I’m no longer a belonger… I was happier when I was boozier, I’ve grown burlier, burblier, & less brainier… Living life like a boondoggler, A fungal lesion & catheter in my todger, Dementia is my brain’s orchestrater, Mild now, worse as I get older… Beyond eighty, one can become an obiter, I don’t look, can’t read ‘em, Gladys Glaucoma, Never wanted excess money or grandeur, Others notice as you get gimpier, You may suffer from graphomania, Ending up a grammaticaster, I’ll explain why, at the gates to St. Peter, Ageing: one becomes thinner or paunchier, No longer a philanderer, you begin to palter, Concentration and memory will falter, You become an easy target for any finagler… Mugger, killer, blackmailer or freebooter, My turn to become a contradicter… It’s hard to explain Cacodemonomania, When it comes to life’s final closure… Things will be revealed by your claviger… Be it a God, Planet, Money, whatever, Inspect your lifestyle, traits whensoever, To return to earth, you must be a groveller, And bare-face liar, like Starmer! And he’s a bound for Hell, Herr Charmer! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tim’s Cat’s Greenies Stand-off. I love this one! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The result was I gave myself a bloody nose by losing my balance as I bent down to open the Catheter Valve yesterday. Then, while wiping the flow from my nasal holes, I started my cracked lips bleeding. I rather hope that they do not start again today! (They did!)
I woke up very late, enjoying sleep and having a good dream. Hehe! I moved as Richard entered the room, and maybe a few of my ailments did not kick-off. Until I tried to move my bulk about 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. I’ve not felt so bad when waking up for years!
My lips cracked and bled as I tried to speak. Speaking was not easy at first; I was more mumbling, I think. Back-Pain-Brenda, Electric-Shocking-Sherida, Confusion Konrad, everything seemed blurred (Glaucoma Gladys?), and, for several minutes, I felt like I was in a permanent-seizure mode. Richard was getting a smidge annoyed with me, I think. Because he was talking to me, but I was not receptive and unable to. I all but went over when I finally got the nerve to stand up and take off the nocturnal pouch. I was keeping Richard from getting home with my faffing about, and I was aware of this. I emptied, disinfected and wrapped up the pouch, and by the time I got back in the room with Richard, I was a different person. As if by magic, I’d regained some perception. Richard issued the prescription medications, and my being more with it, we chatted a minute or two.
As soon as Richard departed, I got the kettle on. Taking this photo from the kitchen window of morning view. Feeling more myself all the time. I’d left the blood towels out last night, so I wrapped them up and put them in the yellow disposable hygiene bag after disinfecting it first. To my genuine amazement, after drinking the small mug of tea and getting the computer on, the day bag filled almost to the maximum. In fact, it was the backflow discomfort that made me aware of its need to be emptied again. Not only that but in the jug was nearly 800ml of waste water! I think this happened yesterday as well. It continued to fill up all day, but not as much as this one. In the middle of this emptying, no spillages!
Launched into activity. He’s not a frequent visitor, but he hung around on and off all day, then into the night. I feared, as does happen, that Ted often encourages to join in with him. But not this time. She assisted him while I was in bed later to ensure another nasty disrupted sleep for me.
I didn’t mention this but decided, as it had happened, I would. I had to scoot off to the wet room to use the Porcelain Throne when Richard was here. I was almost casually taking off my dressing gown, and the motion began of its own accord! SHAME AGAIN! , It was a damned Trotsky Terence affair as well! I kept Richard longer and felt guilty, but the mess I’d splattered over the mats, floors and my legs had to be sorted out there and then.👎🏻
I collated the waste bags into one and placed it near the front door. I opened the door cause I thought I heard a noise outside. But no one was there, which is my flat’s usual state. I closed the door… a simple enough everyday activity… Ha! I’d hit the catheter day bag, a decent wallop with the edge of the door. I laughed it off and returned to the main junk room to get the computer back on and update the blog. I would think it was about eight to ten minutes later that I realised that urine from the pouch was trickling down my leg! Once more, the sock, leg, foot and slipper had been self-unrinated on with great venom! The one saving grace was that I noticed it sooner this time and saved the carpet cleaning from needing to be done.
Such shame, disgrace, ignominy, humiliation, and indignity! The Carers are aware of these things, and the Nurses are. But what can I do? It’s going to happen again, undoubtedly. This very fact alone is enough to get me into a depression. Then the seizures are getting worse, unquestionably. Carer Richard found this morning that I’d left the taps running again last night. I’m sorry I mentioned it now.
When I zoomed in to take this picture from the kitchenette window, I got a sense that something was wrong or not right. Different somehow compared with yesterday’s viewing. I spent a ridiculous amount of time and kept returning to look with the naked eye. Was it just that the sun had sneaked through, lighting up the scene? I’d enough to worry about as it was, but this bugged me. I gave up and got on the computer.
Carer Suen arrived. We laughed, and I gave her a choice of bottles to select from for Christmas. Painkillers were given, and my diabetic socks were put on.
I went to make a brew of Glengettie and took this snap of the sky on offer. Then, it dawned on me what the difference was in the previous photo. It was all the cars parked on the pavements on Devonshire Avenue to the left in this repeated picture. Ah, yes, all those families at home enjoying Christmastime! Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
I read on the web the list of meals that the prisoners were having in Nottingham jail over Christmas and the New Year. Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem! I’d better get my Christmas meal started. Not as good as the criminals’ meal, But I’m not Jealous… oh, no!
Imitation fish sticks, potato chunks, sliced bread with a bit of Marmite. Followed by a pot of jelly with three small pieces of satsuma in it. Very nice! This year, for Christmas lunch, inmates at His Majesties Prison New Hall will get to choose from Moroccan vegan roast, Salmon & dill fishcake, Roast turkey with pigs in blankets, and sage and onion stuffing with complete trimmings. Christmas pudding (vegan option), ice cream, Swiss Roll or banana & custard. For free, of course. It makes me feel guilty about having my massive feast. Jealous? Me? Don’t be so ridiculous! Ahem!
Carer Victor did the last call.
I got into bed and drifted off into a nagging, ever-waking sleep. I gave up and got up at 05:30 hrs. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Sayonara
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Are you aware of this Starmer? Silly Question! As if the Pensioner Killer would be interested! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d liked to have been cleverer, astuter, I was too busy being beaten up, & my tutor! Then, I may have had a better life’s agenda, Whatever is the difference between a proton… (Not the car), and a neutral nucleon, I think combined, they make a neutron? Career paths that I did consider… May I have written a book or been a surgeon? Been a scientist, physicist or an inventor? A scholar, maybe even the Prime Minister, But I’ll soon lose that desire, seeing Starmer! Remember the 11-plus, I failed that quickly, Did I blame this on my angiocardiography? Well, no, I had that 50 years later… Or on the girls, who made me droolier? The blonde-midget they used to call me. I was about as tall as anyone’s knee, That, I can blame on my descendency, Uncle Arthur was only 4 foot three, Auntie Muriel was even shorter than he, But I grew to mind-blowing 5’3″, Had humour and agility, also an alienability, My failing academically drew hostility, From those in authority, friends and family, But the sneering stopped one day, abruptly, I fell into the canal, in which they threw me! I worked from 1960 until the first redundancy That arrived when in security in 2003, Life consisted mainly of failure & discomfiture, I started in a house that had little furniture, Now, in my flat with dyspraxia, & dystaxia… Apnoea, acrasia, apepsia & aprosexia, Determined to reach a state of ataraxia, As I eat my meal of chips & Golonkowa… And think of ways to terminate Starmer! Well, someone should; he’s a pensioner killer! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A Messy, getting-nowhere-fast day.
21:00hrs before I started this main blog.
Seizure Sandra has been busier than any other time.
Luckily, at least up to now, they have all been short (but frequent) episodes. DVT Warfarin Angel Hristina called unexpectedly. It is always a welcome, wanted, satisfying experience. ♥ Carer Cloe did the first call. Then, the second, as well, a domestic visit. Carer Sam did the middle call. Carer Christopher just finished the next-to-last call. Well, it gives him something to eat and drink. Hehehe!
With all the breaks throughout the day, I got more confused and blundered about making errors. Then, trying to sort them out the first time. This did not succeed on one of the problems, let alone the dozens I’d made). I’m going to have to rush this one from here on; sorry if any cock-ups are missed. Otherwise, I’ll never get to sleep again and never catch up on the lost head-downs. It makes things more complex with a lack of scribbled notes, and those I made are not fully legible. Here goes.
Terrible, sad, bad shot of the urine bag.
ABLUTIONING & MEDICALISATIONING
The leg and ankle ulcers looked a smidge inflamed.
I got the bowl out to stand in to soak the plates of meat and had to use the WC first. Yesterday’s Trotsky Terence’s comeback was short-lived.
Constipation Conrad was back in charge. But to the disappointment of Harold Haemorrhoids. I made a few slip-ups with the razor in my rush.
The Medicationings were made a mess of. Most of them. The groin area was cleaned a little too enthusiastically. But I stopped the bleeding eventually. Then, stupidly, I did the same on the one ailment that’s the most painful anyway, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion. I lost some of the red stuff on this wet room visitation. Plenty of plasters and bandages, though. As I dried off, I felt more blood coming onto my chin. I checked in the shaving mirror and saw that my lips had cracked. They hadn’t been touched or hurt before this. Of course, now my mixed-up Doreen Dementia-owned brain has seen them; they have been irking me all day.
Got the waste bags sorted out.
Made a start on the blogging.
Nurse Hristina arrived, the highlight of the day!
The Carers called one after the other.
I was lost as to what I was going to do next.
Chloe, then Chloe again—bless her for doing the Domestics. She found that many food items in the fridge had one day’s life left, and a couple had to be thrown away. My overflowingly full fridge now looked more on the bare side! The photo taken had dematerialised and was lost in the ether!
The urine was getting a little lighter in colour—good! It was also flowing well. This shot was taken 25 minutes after the previous emptying and contained just under 800ml.
After Carer Christopher called. I took two shots of sunsetting.
Back on the blog prepping.
I took some snips of Cartoons to use later.
CrelDraw was incredibly slow! Oh, dear!
I pressed on, but it was taking so long. Could I continue? CorelDraw froze, and WordPress seemed to stutter at times.
I keep saying I need help.
Two later snaps of the evening sky.
Not so good. .
I had to give up.
Tired out and annoyed at things.
I’ll make a meal.
I’ll catch up in the morning. Unless The Grim Reaper calls, but that’s only obvious.
TTFN.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Nearly midday in the morning. Lots of disaster-mode events kept me from doing this earlier.
Tuesday Continued:
After a decent nosebleed, after I’d stopped to get summat to eat. The tissues burst open the cracks on the lip, stopping the nosebleed and opening them up! They didn’t pour with blood, but stopping them took me ages! They would start again within minutes whenever I thought I’d stopped them. Humph!
The intercom rang. I thought it might be an unknown carer, but I could not hear what he was saying.I went out on a hobble to see if I could find him. I gave up and hoped I’d done right in admitting the chap. Later, I went to lock the door and saw a packet not there before on the radiator. I think some meds from the chemist had not been delivered earlier. I wish they had called to inform me.
2140 hrs: Carer Chris arrived as I was plating the meal, so no photo was taken. It was a good one, though: beef in black bean sauce, roast potatoes, and extra seasonings.
I drank a bit of blood when I was eating the meal. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – From the experiences of an unwanted child on ration, His childhood stolen; his heart broken… Full of fear and apprehension, Daily failures, Mother in police detention… Very little learning or education, He grew up in debt and devil-ridden, He became an expert in deprivation, Coped with destruction, devastation… In life, I have a detachment, a disconnection, I got shot twice when working in protection, Coped with disfiguration, mental/physical dysfunction, I pressed on, despite my lack of gumption, I retired, to constant hospitalisation, Peripheral Neuropathy, then a heart operation, Duodenal Ulcer, & private parts Fungal Lesion, Struggling now on my meagre pension, Sir Starmer stole my Winter Fuel donation! Acne, eczema, hearing aids, & cataract operation, Almost black blood, thus the Catheter Contraption, Ankle ulcers, far too many a contusion, Harold Haemorrhoids, cancer, bloods secretion, Doreen Dementia causes many a transgression, Still waiting for my Glaucoma operation… My hopes & plans are mere theorisation, I’d like a brain transfusion, but that’s a delusion, As is life sometimes… peace of mind is ungotten, There’s always something I’ve forgotten… Unavoidable depths of depression… Self-vilification & condemnation, Self-criticism, and animadversion, Now, Sandra’s-Mini-Seizure activation, Any length of time, sometimes in repetition, Electric-Shocking Sherida, from the Ankles lesion, Sometimes I feel completely forfoughten, No shortages of ointments and medication, I got a Christmas card from the Cardiac surgeon! Sometimes, you’ll feel all so low and forsaken, Cognitive Impairment Iris = confusion, Toothache Tiffany is another inclusion… Diabetes 2, I’m also a Diabetic Dementian, Neurotransmitters, failing, they pseudo listen, Pass wrong messages to my cerebrum, Thus, Memory-Mangling-Malcolm, Let’s not forget my right testicle ganglion! Every day is literally an ordalian, My flat is like a prison or garrison, Compared to my youth there is no comparison, Life will not work as planned, not halcyonian… They’ll tell you not to eat bacon, But you will, as a revengeful impulsion, For your mental & physical distortion, I think life is an intermission… Or maybe an incantation? I think the above lines were malapropian, Best just stick with eating smoked bacon? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:15hrs. I woke. Found myself still sat 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. I tried to understand why I expected to wake up in the hospital but didn’t. Ah! Slowly, it dawned on me. I was going to watch some football last night into this morning. I couldn’t see the TV from my bed. I fell asleep in the chair, as usual when watching the TV. I woke up where I did. I removed the colourful nocturnal urine pouch from the day bag. The pains started when I moved and bent down to reach the pouch. Joanne, I think it was who put the new day pouch on for me, and it was lovely and comfortable after she had done so. But now, any movement seems to cause me pain and bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion? Later, I just had to take off the PPs cause I thought it was them tugging against the new holding straps that were causing the agony. But No! The pain continues even now at 15:00hrs. I must call the District Nurse if Monday morning isn’t any better. Not that I’ll be able to get through. I think Chloe phoned last time we called them on a Monday, and she was number 15 in the waiting queue! I tried putting another pair of PPs on, but the pain increased, so I took them off again. I’m having to stuff paper towelling in my crutch to catch the blood. It’s not a lot, but enough, if you gather my meaning?
So, ‘Inchy’s Lamentable Luck’ continues.
Hobbled with the stick to the kitchen and took some pathetic pictures of the morning view. It was raining, but I braved getting a little wet to get decent results. That, as you see, didn’t work!
Being still a little early for the late sleepers, I farted about and, got a bowl of water with disinfectant and washing up liquid, and stood in it while I did my teeth & shaved. Just 3 teeny-weeny cuts and a facial scratch shaving. Then I stepped out of the bowl on the floor to start the body scrub… Cartilage Chloe gave way as I got a leg out of the bowl. Naturally, the bowl wriggled and water was spilt all over the floor. I banged my left knee on the pedestal as I was instigated. I knocked over , which hit the trolley and bounced back and down, landing spot on ! As I bent down to retrieve the stick, I tugged at Inchies Fungal Lesion, and the blood flowed to join the water on the floor!
Got the mess cleaned up in a fashion. Then, the body scrub was done without any more faux pas. That was until it came to the medicating. I did what I thought would be the easy parts first. The Sweat rashes underneath my man breasts and around my back. (I’ll ask the carer when he or she comes to do the back or me). The arms, ankles and groin. Then I . Next, I , then , where I could reach anyway, and then I on both knees. Used the picker-upperer and paper towels to tend to . Lastly… Dang, dang, dang…Dang! . The pain and bother from this put all the others to shame! No matter how I tried to avoid pulling on the tube, not tugging the catheter or its bag, and not catching the support strap… I did. Repeatedly! I may have said ‘Blimey!’ or ‘Shuck!’ or something similar amidst the Arrghs and foul language released! As a final thought, after finishing the medications, I thought I’d put some Germolene on my bottom externally. But I could not seem to find the tube anywhere. I searched along the length of the floor cabinets and inside. Nope! Then, I limped with the stick to the front room to get my torch, returning to shine it down the back of the floor cabinets, which I felt was the only place the Germolene might have fallen out of sight. Nope! This failure to find the Germolene really annoyed me! I returned the torch to the recliner and returned to the wet room, needing the Porcelain Throne. Settled myself down in anticipation of another battle to force things along, another Constipation Conrad session, as it has been for several days. But no! had made a comeback. The evacuation was almost a pleasure this morning.. As I was getting my dressing gown on… I spotted the squashed Germolene Cream tube in plain sight on top of the floor cabinet? Why, how, did I not see it before. This also baffled me!
I felt it must be night, and I’d somehow missed the day, or it took me that long in the wet room. I thought I may have fallen asleep or had a seizure on the WC for the day? Tsk! I take it that I’m still alive? Has anyone seen me lately? Hehehe!
I put the waste bags into one big one and placed it near the front door.
Then, I flavoured some spring water with lemon juice.
Then, it at least seems that I took this photo on the left for some unknown reason. It must have been me cause it was found in order on the SD card? Next, I hoovered around the tiny flat. I just love the headlights on this vacuum cleaner. The rain was getting heavy now. I thought of the carers on their way to work and how damp they would be when they arrived at the prison. No, no, I meant to arrive at the flats. The end car park mudslide had appeared suddenly. When I peeked out earlier, there was nothing there. I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and updated the quaint, old-fashioned calendar clock. I tried to work out how long it had taken me to complete the medicationalisationings and ablutions. I think I was in there for about two hours & ten minutes or thereabouts. These jobs are taking me too long, but how can I get help that will not cost me a fortune? I can’t! That’s the end of that self discussion. Haha!
I got on the computer no sooner than I had taken a hold. Slowing down my progress even more! My concentration was weak.
Carer Promise arrived at about 0905hrs. He checked the catheter for me and removed one of the grippers. He then put on the diabetic socks for me and reminded me to take a vitamin B tablet. He ID’d the urine colour for me, and I emptied and wrapped/sealed it in a blue bag. Then, prescription medications were given.
Carer Kimberley made the next call.
I cannot recall any sequences and precious few details of the next few hours. It’s all an amalgamation of possibilities, faded, useless bits of nothingnesses, and do you know? I don’t believe this bothered me at all. Of course, fact, fiction and fantasy were floating freely in my feelings and senses.
When Sandra released things, I started to recall things, like feeling hungry and making two cheesy cob bacon rolls to eat. Despite the atrociousness of this photograph, and it was a lousy effort, I enjoyed it!
I think I must have taken this shot earlier. I’ve no idea when. It had to be during the seizures. Around 17:00hrs, the rain ceased. About time, too! HaHa! Not that it bothered me, being imprisoned in the cell… Flat!
Yet again, I felt hungry. And made another snack. I put some potato cubes in the air fryer. And I’ll microwave sausages later with raw peas.
Carer Richard arrived. Peptac Codeines were given. I forgot to ask him to take off the diabetic socks. Huh!
Then, I made the second snack of the day. I undercooked the sausages but still ate them.
I tried getting the socks off, but it was too painful. At 0025hrs, I got my head down.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – An ode to Keir, praise not being included…
In power because he’s been adfected,
He had earlier got himself benighted,
HMG he has soon affected, loyalty rejected…
He is a robot, not compassioned,
As Labour leader, then the PM, he was elected,
Beating the sad Tories and getting adulated,
As PM, his self-greed exploded,
But the electors were soon acerbated,
His speeches were bland, circumlocuted,
He lies by omission; his talks are bloviated…
Pensioners Fuel allowance he discarded,
Tax on farmers up, as Keir fanfaronaded,
Did anyone notice when he lied, he mussitated?
I thought Christmas might be cancelled!
I half-expected it would be nuncupated,
Blair’s fiddling used to get me irritated,
Brown’s clangers were unprecedented,
But Starmer, he gets me nauseated,
He also gets me over-wherrited,
His cruelty & lies will never be obtunded,
Guilty but got off scot-free, vindicated!
I’m sorry that I just pasquinaded…
But it’d be nice to see him assassinated!
Of to the Porcelain Throne, I just ventilated! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE THINGS I COME OUT WITH! Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another partly full-of-beans awakening this morning! And why not? I’d been blessed with 8hrs in bed and only waking up with a jump three times. Yes!
When I realised that the nocturnal catheter pouch valve had not been opened, I felt a little flow-back pain the moment from the bladder when I moved. But nae bother or frustration this time. I put the nocturnal pouch on and forgot to release the valve. I was remarkably calm over this cock-up. Despite the discomfort, I was singing to myself as I emptied the rather over-full day pouch, and even when I had to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, I accompanied myself with a few toneless Elvis songs. And the urine I’d just emptied from the jug was a 6 on the NHS scale. I wasn’t overly worried. Then I changed to an Acker Bilk Song, ‘Bona Sera, Seniorita’, following up with Adam Faith’s ‘My Last Wish’. Yes! I was aware of my upbeatness and enjoyed it! I was bounced back to reality when I went into the kitchen from the wet room.
I soon found myself in an instant depression . Self-hating, spitting, self-lambasting, and swearing began! Then , she kicked off yet again, but far worse than she was yesterday. Although I thought that was bad yesterday, now I know it wasn’t.
It was as if they had a compunction to join minutes later and played up.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I got the kettle on to brew a mug of Co-op 99 tea. Then I opened the window to take some snaps of the morning views on offer. A genuinely blue sky looked impressive from where I stood, holding my chest, trying to ignore Anne Gyna’s stabbing, moving around the torso’s chest pains.
I’ll try to see if it’s the same shade tonight. I’d also like to take some zoomed-in shots of the Christmas-decorated houses and trees tonight.
Anne Gyna is still having fun with me. I took an extra naughty Codeine 30g painkiller. A mug of tea and I planned to make a start on the blogging.
Carer Promise arrived. He was in a good mood. Carer Joanne put the diabetic sock on for me late last night, I think. Medications were issued. And I inquired into his plans for Christmas. He said he had none. Is he working! The holiday foods arrived with a few more treats. I had a heck of a job getting the stuff into the freezer & fridge, more the freezer.
The fridge was stocked up enough. Compared to the freezer, which had to be emptied of some foods to make way for the new stuff. Tsk!
You can see when I showed Carer Carole later how full it was; I had to open the two fish boxes in batter and put them in loose. Otherwise, I’d never have got them in! Talk about cram-packed. Hehe! It lessened later when I took out some treats to hand out. I’ll not starve, despite SS Unterofficer Herr Starmer doing his level-crooked best to starve pensioners this year.
Then, things were taken over by it and persistent . I nearly took another extra Codeine, but I stopped myself.
I’d two deliveries coming today from Amazon. I hope they get it right this time. Do you remember a few weeks ago, the microwave wear was left outside on the flat’s porch? And the toothache painkiller was delivered to the wrong flat, and the gentleman who was expecting a delivery for himself thought it was his. Until he opened it and saw it was for number 72, not his flat, and he kindly brought it up for me. ARGH! AGAIN! .The site said it was delivered and handed to the customer. Well, it wasn’t! I had to get some clothes on. And to empty the catheter. Getting the trousers on with the catheter is time-consuming, risky, and painful! Then get down in the lift to see if they had left it in the foyer again. I couldn’t see it. So, I returned and got proper-flummoxed with Amazon’s deliberately awkward and hard-to-understand complaint system.
I somehow found a butt n that got me to a department that I could only input details from the list they supplied. I thought I was getting somewhere when, on the second try, I got through to a Q&A list, which offered a button to press for the Customer Service Department, and I pushed it – Nothing happened, but the screen disappeared. I tried it again. Whoever it was, AI, I think, said I needed to contact another department. But didn’t say how to do so. A third try got me as far as that again.
I was getting uptight with the frustration and pains from Anne Gyna to boot. Once more, I started from scratch but gave up. As I was sat here swearing out loud, the door chime chimed.
A resident was bringing me the disinfectant that had been left with him in error. He was not very happy. I thanked him and got back on the computer.
Lousy timing, kicked of again.
No idea what I was doing, but when things cleared, I’d closed the multitude of open Amazon windows. And started to worry about the disinfectant & cleaners being delivered
I opened Amazon’s page to track the parcel.
I gave in and took another Codeine 30m. Ann Gyna was getting worse, not any better or easier! Checked the tracker for the delivery.
I realised that walking down and back up had started the bleeding of the ankle ulcer. Boy, was I fed up! Well, Yes!
This driver was as good as gold. Brought up the freshener and Zoflora lemon Sherbert disinfectant to the door for me.
I’m going to get something to eat now.
I can finish this in the morning if I get up.
TTFN.
Goodeth Morning!
Woke up at 06:45hrs, Rather Later than planned
Update Battered fish balls, terrible potatoes, two none-butter-buttered cheesy cobs, pickled water chestnuts, pickled mushrooms, garden peas, and a Lemon Fool dessert.
Carer Chris made his last call at 0925hrs. Diabetic socks off & medications sorted.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Discussing death is not at all morbid, I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’ I didn’t mind there was no altercation, Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven! Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid? Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid… Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid! It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person, Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration? Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion? Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen! I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion, Sid: You’re causing me some confusion! Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion? Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism, Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism! My faith in humankind’s incomprehension… Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern! At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum, Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction, Sid: But I’ll make this prediction… Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven… Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid, Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid, Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid! Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid! What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening. The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia. Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.
The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?
I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early. & It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates. Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit. I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!
After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!
I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.
I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.
I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling! When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago. It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment! It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding! Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with. I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!
The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!
Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥
I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha! I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin… Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so! Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!
Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.
But I can remember making and eating the nosh! Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added. Yummy! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN, Everyone!
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06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day. I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!
I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey! I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!) Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card? I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!
Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.
The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have. Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!
Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.
When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.
I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.
I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!
I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route. What Morrison order! I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door. Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure. There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been! Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before. Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.
Then things got even worse… I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about. The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven. THE A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it! I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me? Stupid Question. I’ve lost the will to bother.
I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all. Another failed plan for today.
I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one. Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.
This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year. And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.
I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven. I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.
Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food. I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.
Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink.
Best not to waste them.
Oh, got it now! Hehe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –If I may describe the ways of Dementia, She’s a brain attacker, my resident intruder, A confuser, teaser, a permanent-squatter, Some days, she’s a near 100% beleaguer, Now she has got even craftier, crueller, She created debilitating Sandra’s Seizures, Also, bothersome Electric Shocking Sherida, Their attacks give Doreen time to rest, recover, It can’t be easy living in my cerebral matter, Naturally, she’ll need time to recuperate, While they give me hell, Doreen can resuscitate, I think, really, she wants to be tender… Or does it make me sound like a pretender? Of course, this Ode is mostly conjecture… No help from the Doctor, NHS or Pastor, Hope is getting harder to muster… I’ll just go battier, barnier & barmier?
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05:20hrs: I jiggled out of the hospital bed without suffering any mishaps. I freed the nocturnal catheter pouch and got on industriously (for me); I put the kettle on and sorted the waste bins out. I should, I suppose, have felt a smidge guilty as I checked out the empty crisp packets in the bed bin. One Marmite, one Frazzle, and two Pickled onion bags. Ahem! The crumbs in the bed called for an all-off, shake-about, and a hoovering-up job. Which I bet the neighbour above may not have appreciated. It’s a loud vacuum. But I didn’t appreciate how early it was at first. But I was a good boy when it did dawn on me, and I stopped partway through, offering unheard apologies to the gentleman in the flat above.
Into the kitchen. Before the kettle had boiled, an urgent rumbling from the innards and passing of wind encouraged me to hobble hastily to the wet room and Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence ruled the session and took his time clearing a dirty-great load of watery, splashy, Karki-coloured evacuated product. My hearing aids are both kaputt, but I could hear the product splashing into the water two minutes later! On the bright side, there was no pain or bleeding whatsoever! Good! But a lot of cleaning was needed; the porcelain and the rear end parts of me! Not Good! No shave this morning. Just a stand-up wash, clean and dry the areas about to be ointmentated. Not really, only little Inchies Fungal Lesion, and cleaning and creaming the groin were any hassle, pain-wise. Then it wasn’t too bad.
I went to make the tea and took it to the computer. I even remembered to change the day & date on the 1970’s clock. I dunked a large cookie in the tea and got that, which I often do. I feared I might have left the taps running in the wet room, so I checked. Why do I not get these worries and urges when I do leave it running? Seeing the colour of the sky as I exited the wet room, I fetched the camera and took this shot of it. A much better effort than yesterday’s try. Smug-Mode!
I started updating yesterday’s blog; there was not much to add. I got it finished at 09:20 hours. I recall thinking, surely the Carer must have been by now? Then, the progress in computing took a backward step. Started, little and often, for around an hour or so. I found myself emptying the catheter day pouch in the WC; the clock showed 11:15hrs. I believed a Carer must have called while I was partially out of things. Got back to the computer and checked to see if any messages or missed calls were on the mobile. I don’t know how, but the phone had a message on it from 2022? Summat else broke? Then kicked off. This was about 11:30hrs and still no carer. I’m not confident enough to guess which tablets are for this problem. I took an extra Codeine later on. It got bad in the afternoon. arrived at 11:40hrs. Some had not turned in, and he looked tired, but only my EQ recognised it. The lad was not complaining. Hopefully, the Angina tablets, whichever they are, will start to work soon. Better late than never. It’s a devil of a job keeping to schedules at Christmas time. I know from my working days.
I’d gotten the Saturday blog sent off. I’m not sure how many errors there were, but it was a few, I reckon. I made a belated start on this blog. A stop-and-start affair was becoming less frequent now. I wasn’t happy about the bothersome Usually moving across and up and down the chest pains when they stayed in one place.
turned up, nice to see her. I had an extra Codeine as she was at her worst of the day. I got a little fretful once, but she’s calmed down a smidge now. It’s just the odd twinge to let me know she’s still there.
Were getting problematical again, but still less than a while ago around 16:00hrs.
I took a breather, deciding to take some snaps of the early evening views. I took these for over 15 minutes, which shows how fast it gets dark nowadays.
Getting weary again, the evening Carer might be here anytime now. If the poor thing has got caught up yet.
I’m planning on having some roast beef-filled rolls with tomatoes tonight. In fact, I’ll get them done now. I am an impulsive old chap! Hehehe!
Carer Vic arrived, I asked him to open the jar of beetroot and pickled mushrooms for me.
The nosh went down well! And very nice it was, too!.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve just…
I’ve just stabbed myself in my left hand,
Ailments and Whoopsies expand…
A bit of good luck would be grand,
Food will arrive tomorrow from Iceland…
There’s still danger from Putinland,
Tomorrow, I may cut my right hand?
I’m uneducated but still a gourmand,
In the event of going to the Hinterland,
Please play the music of Aka Bilk’s band, Why I wrote this ode, I don’t understand.
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