
Take one fresh and tender kiss,
Add one stolen night of bliss,
Memories are made of this…
I recall my female accommodationists,
But try to forget the ones I missed,
My thoughts of them bring bleakness,
Some tall, some short, some with blemishes,
Often the blissfulness was boundless,
The passion could also leave me breathless,
Refusals brought brokenheartedness,
And they were pretty multitudinous,
Some buxomness, billious or blasphemous,
The contact activity was bootilicious,
Grizelda Freudenburger, the musculeist,
Her groping unquestionably was the best,
Some antics, entanglements were just pauseless,
She was uncontrolled and never passionless,
Excited, her eyes grew the colour of quarenders,
Our tangles showed a certain recklessness,
We shared shirtlessness and sillyness,
Her body? The height of sumptuousness,
Her mind & body were scrumdiddlyumptious,
We’d mate for hours; we were not abstemious,
I’m upset now, no Grizzly, just memories!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke at 05:45hrs, with the acid surge coming into my nose and mouth. No doubts, I’d just woken up at the end of a nocturnal seizure.
At teatime, I did a search on Google, with this result: Nocturnal seizures are epileptic seizures that occur during sleep, often causing abnormal movements, confusion, or screaming (Not screaming in my case, no mention of the acidity upsurge?). They can be managed with antiseizure medications, adjusting your sleep patterns, and taking safety precautions, such as using a low bed or a seizure monitor. If you suspect you or someone you know is having nocturnal seizures, it’s essential to consult a healthcare provider (Hahaha!) for a proper diagnosis and treatment plan.
Considering that I was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy eight years ago, and the Doctor didn’t even tell me what it was or meant. (I googled it) With so many ailments it brought, and it is still delivering over the years. I told her (Those were the days when one could get an appointment at the surgery). I’d probably have as much chance of winning the lottery, and I don’t do it, or seeing Grizelda again and having mad, rampant, delightful sex every day.
I waited a while before removing the night catheter bag and doing my balance checks routine.
Carer Nimra arrived as I was coming out of the wet room after doing the ablutions and a chronically painful Trotsky Terence pebbled evacuation.
The Doctor’s receptionist rang me on the landline with the results of yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test. Changes of the Warfarin dosages, which I passed on to Carer Nimra.
The window cleaners arrived as I made another mug of tea and started the blog’s Ode. The £10 for cleaning the balcony windows is now £15.
This one is of the Chestnut Way front car park, look at the rain!
I was positive that I’d ordered this Asda order for next Wednesday.
Huh! Help!
Then Ejaz arrived, took the laundry down to the launderette & returned. Explaining that he did not have a bus pass to go with me to the Chemist. I only had 2 £2 and a £1 coin, change from the window cleaners. He called his base. Then he told me someone from their office would arrive in 20 minutes to give me a lift. Ejaz got he walker out of the balcony for me. I think he enjoys it when I leave him alone in the flat.
Ejaz had confirmed on the phone yesterday that the Chemist can do both jabs, and we didn’t need to book in. (See later Tsk!)
Ejaz said we should go outside to meet her, so we did. But I’d forgotten to empty the catheter before leaving the flat. We walked through the connecting corridor into Winwood flats. And used the disabled toilet to empty the pouch before leaving.
The young lady who arrived was the one who was so helpful last time—a lovely gal from my Carer’s office—and she was off to the Chemist.
Things Did Not Go According To Plan!
I didn’t need to say that, really, did I?
Ejaz had phoned the pharmacy yesterday and was told we could have both flu & Covid injections without an appointment. Great, I thought at the time! But lurking in my conscience was a realisation of my expectations from my ‘Bad-Luck’ omitter. I knew something was going to go wrong; my EQ is very rarely incorrect.
We parked up in the free car park, got the walker out of the boot and meandered onto Mansfield Road and up to the Ascent Chemist. They could not do both injections! While they were trying to get someone to do the COVID-19 one, The Carer fetched her car from the car park and parked in front of the Chemist. She said as she left that she didn’t think we were going to get it done, and that the car would be ready to try another one. Bless her, also to save me walking.
The pharmacist said to try the one over the hill on the right. The Jayplex Pharmacy. We drove there and got both jabs done. With aching arms, hehe! I was lifted back to the flat.
Ejaz was still there; he loves being on his own. He’d got the laundry in the machine and mopped the kitchen for me. I thanked the gal for the lift, and Ejaz nipped down to get my laundry from the dryer.
I was feeling pretty good compared to last year’s do, when I had a 22-hour sleep after having had the injections. Thankfully, I may have had a different type of COVID-19 needle contents this time. Because I only slept for five hours tonight. But well!
I had an amazingly different Long Seizure!
I think it must have been for a few hours —unwell. Was it the effects of the COVID-19 or the flu vaccine? But I did have the acidity upflux, so I believe it was a seizure, but you never know. Maybe a combination of both – why do I say this? I’ll tell yer!. It appears I took photographs I cannot recall, and lost them on Thursday morning.
After waiting for the acrid acid taste to dissipate, I was on the bed, which I cannot remember getting into. The catheter bag was well-filled, so I went to empty it —no balance problems at all.
ARRRGH! I’d been in the wet room earlier, because
Ejaz came for the first night call, noticing the meal, saying, “You’ve already cooked a meal? Well done!”
I said nothing about not remembering; I knew nothing of what was in the bowl other than it was a stew of some sort. It smelled nice.
I had a quick look in the waste bag, a tin of Irish Stew, and a torn-to-shreds cover from one of the ready-made meals from the fridge; the Marmite and Bovril jars were not in their usual place.
I may have mentioned the long sleep or seizure, but I’m not certain… no, likely not.
Here’s a snap of the meal.
Getting help with transport today definitely helped cheer me up. And a laugh and a natter with someone was marvellous, I loved it. Thank you, too, to the ICC.
Inner City Carers team.