– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A cheery little ode, not autobiographic,
I’m not so acrobatic, more aquabatic…
When the catheter plug refuses to stick,
Tablets, creams and antiseptic,
A tendency towards being apathetic,
Learned today I’m agammaglobulinemic,
Realised that I’m obsolete, old, and antique,
Hopes & abilities, are not within my ambit,
I’d be better off out of it, abiotic…
More problems today got me apoplectic,
Life is a struggle, with little aleatoric,
Seizure troubles, Depressions… amphigoric!
I’m just stating life’s assertoric,
Everyday calamities, all amphigoric,
Not long ago, I was carefree, apolaustic,
Contentment? I long ago lost it…
World leaders turn greedy & autarchic,
Leaders used to be so moralistic…
Humankind’s future is but apocalyptic…
Catastrophic, cataclysmic, adiaphoristic!
Starmer ruins the UK, not apologetic,
To honesty & compassion, he must be allergic,
To self-wealth, Keir is apolaustic,
I’d like to buy him a soda, caustic!
He seems so stoic, sardonic, & satanic,
The fact that he’s scholastic, semantic,
He doesn’t seem to understand sympathetic,
Backhanders taken, the crooked schmuck!,
Labour’s values he does besmirch,
His speeches are hypnotic, soporific,
He is beyond being fair or sociologic,
When he talks, it’s rhetoric
With lies, deceit, all plethoric,
Is it possible for words to be pathogenic?
Cause his lies make me sick, phrenic!
His unwarranted greed is so apodictic,
His behaviour is psychosomatic,
His biggest lies used by pretermit,
His known lies have been so plethoric,
Sorry about this rant; was it poetic? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It’s been a nightmare today. It is now 17:40 hrs, and I’ve got the above done. It’ll be well into the morning before I get this done—if then! I’m going to have to rush, so mistakes and timings may well confuse you and me! Sorry. I’ll just accept Grammarly’s suggestion, even if it seems wrong. I’ve a lot to get through cause I had some mega-muck-ups. Not early on, things went decently, but as you can work out from my errors, the pain caused Anne Gyna to tear into me when I was uptight about the happenings. I’ll try not to go into too much minutiae and still get the message across.
I woke with the regulation jump at 04:40 hrs. I’d got 5 hours of sleep in, though. I removed the night bag; it showed a decent shade this morning. I’ll cut this short. A couple of nicks shaving. Stubbed my ingrowing toenail. Did the medicationing routine. I got dressed but was unaware that I forgot to put the fresh pps on when I stubbed the toe. Much pain from the moving catheter tube had things bleeding later on. To the kitchen, took a snap. Smidge brown sky? Tons of scribble I can’t read on the notepad here. Late on in the day, the Glaucoma seems to get much worse each night. I’ll pick out the bits I can read.
Carer Joanne’s first call. Had a small but plwant nattwe and moan about things. We do that! Ah, I did get the Thursday blog finished. A call was made on the intercom, and I assumed the supply of catheter bags was arriving. But no one arrived at the door. Now, a problem. Someone might be on the way up if I get dressed and go down to see if they had left it in the foyer. Left it a while longer. By now, the thought of them getting nicked got me all uptight, and Anne Gyna started; on the way to the lift and down to the ground floor, I had several mini seizures. As I exited the lift, Carer Joanne was getting in with my laundry, bless her. We found a box that had been left in the lobby. It was from Parsley Box, the ready meals. Joanne carried it with me back to the flat. When I got in, an email said it had been delivered to the customer. This wrangled me. Joanne kindly hung the things up for me, and I emailed DHL and Parsley Box. Here’s a copy. Both were the same.
After I admitted the DHL driver to the flats, the parcel was left in the ground floor lobby.
After getting dressed, I went down to look in the lobby. Then, suffering from Anne Gyna and a seizure, I was lucky enough to bump into a Carer as I got out of the lift.
Carer Joanne tended to me and carried the box to the flat.
She will complain to Parsely Box and explain that I dare not order anything again for fear of the same thing happening again. It involved just too much hassle and physical pain. I live in this Warden-Aided Block of Flats (Flat 72, 12th floor), where the box is usually dropped off at my door.
I am disabled and not in good health, which is why I was ordering Parsley box meals.
I’m not seeking compensation; I’m just disappointed and need to look for a different supplier.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a bit of a mess with the lift in the first place. But can’t read enough to say more. I got an email from the Post Office about delivery coming tomorrow, but not the catheters. Also, the prescriptions have not arrived, although they may have been dropped at the Carers office. I’ll phone the chemist in the morning.
It’s no good I can’t read things here. I’ll get the photos taken; they may trigger my non-existent memory. Oh, yes, I took this when I made a brew earlier, as a treat after getting the blog done. Emptied the Parsley Box meals. Stake Hotpot. Corned Beef Hash. My favourite one here!
Tomatoes, they all had something in common… The tomatoes, I mean.Miniature bottles of shandy.
After Anne Gyna calmed down, the Mini Seizures
started, and she could do nothing for ages, and didn’t.
Carer Chris made the teatime call at around 17:15hrs, and the medications were given.
I will go on the WP Reader and then clean the place up a smidgen. Get some nosh now. I thought I’d got bread in the freezer, but I haven’t. So, I’ll have loads of Nordic bacon instead to fill me up. The tasteless Moroccan tomatoes, and ditto with the Bamboo slices, kept the score down.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’ve often been maladjusted, & maladministered,
My mind has often mused and meandered…
To topics that were miscomprehended,
Possibly, because I’m muttonheaded,
Peripheral Neuropathy gets me misguided,
I do things, say things that are misintended,
Links, intentions get misconnected…
Wrong spellings get miscorrected,
Plans, & intentions may be misconstructed,
Deafness can make things miscommunicated,
In 1965, the UK was sadly metricated…
Another HMG con job manipulated,
Centimetres’ in, inches & feet mutilated!
: : : : :
2025: UK pensioners exploited by Starmer,
Then, he overtaxed the family farmer,
Repeatedly proved he was a persistent liar,
He talks to you like an annunciator…
We’ll do this, you do the other,
His smugness & immovability is an appetiser,
Heralding, the coming political quagmire…
Resulting in his being proved an ambuscader,
No PM has had a chin that is squarer,
Shame he isn’t fairer, more honest or a carer,
His red cheeks indicate him being boozier,
He’s so smug and self-preoccupied…
Credit due, he tries to look dignified…
As he’s cheated, robbed, & lied!
A Labour man who’s been Toryfide! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes!
A disastrous start to the day? Yes!
A busy day? Yes!
Seizure’s hampering on & off all day? Yes! Visits? Yes! However, progress made with the help given? Yes! Again? Yes! While a Carer was in attendance. Yes! On each of the wearying, there were at least six visits. Yes! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Last night’s kip was horrible! I was getting woken up by one thing or another again so often. I’ll try to explain the new thing I had overnight that added to the jumping awake count. In between Eric’s Electric Shocks shooting up the right leg, Twitching Neck Nigel trying to break my neck, and Shoulder Shudding Shirley trying to dislocate my right shoulder, I believe I had some nocturnal seizures as well while asleep. I don’t suppose they were that, but they shared a similarity with some of the day seizures. As with the shorter day seizures, I can often feel them coming on, and these short ones can be repetitive and usually leave me feeling a smidge confused sometimes and always feeling weary, tired and exhausted. This likely accounted for me falling back to sleep quickly after each one. I think? I had visions with them… well, I sense I had, and they all connected to my early life. The Meadows, where I was dragged up, and the Nottingham canal that I got thrown in as an ankle-snapper were both in there, amongst many of the vaguer-memoried others. I’m not keen on going to sleep at all tonight now. Still, the Doctor granted me a telephone appointment for 7 days later, so if I can survive until next Thursday, I’m sure a few words over the phone will soon have me feeling better. Sorry about that! Hehe! Hence, The worst night’s sleep ever? Yes! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 05:00 hrs: I gave up on trying to get back to sleep. Although I’m sure I could have quickly enough, what prospectively awaited me had I drifted off was not appealing. This is all new to me, the second night like it. But much worse than last night was. I suppose if it happens again tonight, I’ll have to ring the Doctor again and ask her to bring forward her 7-day appointment for an emergency appointment via a telephone call. I can go through the ‘You are 29th in the queue’. ‘You will not be talking to a doctor but a patient assessor’ once again… Tsk! Again!
Doing the ablutions I ramped up the Accifauxpas total somewhat. The usual with the shaving, 4 today… oh, cuts! But the whole time in the wet room, there was no sign of . The medicationings was going well until I had to stop medicating and use the Porcelain Throne. The evacuation started of with a reluctant torpedo slowly edging its way out, with some encouragement from me. Then it altered and flowed out almost liquid? Amazingly, it didn’t leave any of the usual gutwrenching pongs! I cleaned things up and got back to the medicationing. I lost my balance as I got up from creaming the ingrowing toenail and fell backwards, landing on the shower chair that tipped over (well, it would with my weight hitting it, I suppose). I’d not hit the deck and stayed above the chair. I managed to haul my elephantine body back up on my legs with relative ease. As I was considering activating a , I felt the blood trickling down my left thigh. But it was not a lot. . The top holding strap must have got sticky with cream, and when I tumbled, it polled some hairs out and a bit of skin from under the belt. Despite all this, I was still in grip of . I finished the medicating and got dressed. Then, realising how far behind I was with the blog, I thought I’d better get on with the Ode first.
Carer Shaquille arrived. He fitted me with diabetic socks and handed me the medications. I asked him if he had the time to call the Social so I could order some more catheter bags, as I only had two nocturnal ones left. Just in case, I’d already ordered some from Amazon on the computer. They should be here today. So if they are, no panic mode is needed. Shaq did so for me, and it’s much appreciated. They should be here by Monday at the latest.
. Everything was harder to do and concentrate on, and I was badly gripped by it for several hours. I had no drive or determination at all. During this time, I’ll try to recall what happened. There was nothing on the notepad at all. To make things worse – I couldn’t find Koak Tim 2 AGAIN! I looked on the stovetop where I found it the other day, but no luck. What the hell’s going on with me? I got the loan camera out, but the batteries were dead. And I wasn’t confident enough to try out the leads for fear of using the wrong one. Then again, I was sure I would find where I’d left Kodak Tim.
In the late afternoon, the Intercom rang. I thought it was the door chime, so I didn’t respond at first. Then I realised and hobbled as hastily as possible to the box, but it stopped as I reached it. So, I went downstairs in case it was the catheter bags, and they had left them in the foyer. Down, in the lift, and as I got out, nine people were waiting to get in. I limped to the foyer but could see no sign of any parcels. Back to the lift, five people were waiting to get in, and one more arrived. I should have gotten in first, being on a high floor, but I didn’t think of it until they had all got in. Then I joined them, and it was a tight squeeze, not that I minded.
I Love it, getting captives to listen to my nattering on. Haha!
When I returned to the flat, I found the catheter bags outside the door. The day bag was a single one. £8.99. I got caught out there, moneywise, and a bag of ten nocturnal pouches for the same sodding price!
Again. There was no spell in between this time.
Relaunched attacks. And nothing got done of any value; Duncan & Sandra had got me beat.
I did have another search for Kodak Tim 2, but it was joyless. I thought I may have gone down to the lobby with it, dressed, and nipped down to investigate. Nope, it’s not there.
Carer Christopher arrived, and I asked him which charger fitted which camera. He wasn’t sure, but both connections fitted, so it should be all right. We gave him medications, chatted about the nighttime mind kerfuffle, and off he trotted. I totally forgot to ask him to have a search for the Kodak. So, I had another search around for it. Nope!
Time to get some food. Came to life the moment I unexpectedly came across Kodak Tim 2!!!
I’ve made up two imaginary places and put the one where I found the Kodak. What do you think?
1: In the fridge?
2: In the microwave?
3: Shelf under the sink?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I took these two photos of the sunset straight away. I don’t think I meant to take two, though. Do they look the same to you? Maybe I kept my finger on the activation button for too long?
It could have been caused by my excitement at finding Kodak Tim 2?
Then. I got on with preparing the meal. A giant feast of beef in black bean sauce again. Two Parsley boxes. I added extra water chestnuts, extra sauce from a jar, potatoes, and a sprinkle of Pryprawa seasoning. Placed in a microwave-safe plastic tray. And guessed at microwaving them for 4 minutes. Singlely, they needed 1.5 minutes each.
I opened the door and stirred the mixture halfway through.
When it pinged, I removed the lid to see if it was heated enough. It wasn’t, so I put it back in for another minute.
This is the prepared and ready-to-gobble meal. It was pleasant tasting and not too peppery.
But, after eating for a few minutes, I found undercooked cold bits and pieces. A shame!
Next time, I’ll give it a bit longer in the microwave.
The mood had been with me for over two hours now. And still, after I’d washed the pots, Carer Christopher made the late call! He whipped off the diabetic socks, and medications were given.
I settled into the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. I turned on the TV and chose a channel with three consecutive programmes.
Heartbeat, then Sherlock Holmes. I nodded off several times when the adverts came on but saw most Heartbeat episodes. One that I’d not seen before.
Carer Christopher made his last call. No medications were needed. I was still in a mood!❤ 👍🏻 Carer Chris departed, taking my laundry bag with him.
I continued to watch the Sherlock Homes film. Edward Woodward played Sherlock differently, with less apparent overacting.
This 1990 TV movie, Hands of a Murderer, was his only portrayal of Sherlock. It’s a pity that following Basil Rathbone as Sherlock was asking a lot of any actor.
I turned off the TV and drifted off into a dream-filled sleep. I know this, but I can recall nothing about the dream! I hate it when this happens. Hehe! I slept for about three hours. Then , and both almost made me bolt upright. Threw some wobblies as well. This was around 04:00 hrs, so at least I managed to skip for at least four hours! After this wake-up fracas, I could not return to the land of nod! I lay there, willing to go back to sleep. I realised that I had no Nocturnal Seizures like the previous two nights. YIPPEE!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today: A better Ratio of 35%,
Against, 65%
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THINGS I’VE MISLAID, But not DDDD!
I recall losing my spark and ebulliency,
That disappeared relatively early,
As for my romantic… we’ll call it urgency
The desire remained, but not the capability,
It didn’t help having a toddler named Inchy!
Some sessions were like a farce, or comedy,
I did my best to offer some excitancy,
Usually offering the gal only oscitancy,
Until I met Grizelda, tall, thick & muscly,
Who declared her love of danglers, mini,
Our sessions made us both happy & giddy!
We mated, rhapsodically repeatedly…
She would always ritualistically,
Throw me on the bed, into reverie,
I swear we produced radioactivity,
It was our seven-times-a-week proclivity,
That was before I went all rheumatically,
But now I’m nearly an octinarianary,
With a catheter stuck in my Willy,
Incapable of any sexual prithee,
Even recalling Grizelda’s memory,
Her hairy chest, & biceps is risky…
Cause it always gets me frisky,
Willy grows; things go painfully! Now my urges have left me, But I never had enough adequacy, I had to get by somehow, accursedly! Imipramine, for depression, 3 times daily, Thus, I lost all urges, sexually… Started considering things, funereally, Depression and Peripheral Neuropathy, I got shot twice; the arm and knee,
I went bankrupt financially…
I hung on a bit longer to my morality,
A mechanical aorta valve was fitted, thankfully,
Now, when I wake up, it’s half-heartedly,
I look back at things I did unwisely,
Unthinkingly, recklessly or tactlessly,
No doubt about it, I exist apathetically,
Bladder cancer made me live virginly,
I’m still here, still terminally…
With the seizures & DDDD; mental anarchy,
Never again to pee voluntarily,
Barred from any sexual activity,
Glaucoma Gladys, blurring what I see, I got an appointment at the doctor’s surgery!
Nine days away, for 27 Feb, next Thursday, I won’t see her, she’s going to ring me! That’ll be good if I talk stutteringly… Will I hear her, knowing I hear deafly, Let’s be honest here, does it matter?
But I’ll not be a quitter or attritee,
Guess who’s just left me? DDDD!
I’ll make the best of it, & brew a mug of tea! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Flashback to 1965
GNCS (Greater Nottingham Cooperative Society) 118 store, Arleston Drive, Wollaton, Nottinghamshire. I was the Fresh Fish & Greenfruit Department Manager then. I have so many happy memories of this store. I’ll share a few if you don’t mind. The Manager was a Gentleman, Bill Morris, my much-admired mentor. Many years after the above photo was taken, when the store had to close, I was promoted (if that’s the right word) to Lily Grove Greengrocers shop. It was an old serving counter store with a grocer and butcher in three separate units.
Mr Morris retired. He passed away shortly after leaving 118. It’s sad, but he taught me much, and I admired him.
We had an armed robbery early one morning before opening the doors. I heard some shouting, and I went out of the back door to the front of the shop and caught the number and colour of Hillman Minx they were driving away in. I recognised one of the three in the vehicle. Informed the police went to the nick and was interviewed. I got the impression they thought I was involved in the raid. Credit to the police, they caught all three of them within two hours of the attack. I had two visitors to my flat the following week. They advised me not to identify the bloke I had already identified. I phoned the police while they were threatening me. They couldn’t understand or were pig-thick and carried on the threats while I was on the line. I was so angry with them, as a siren was heard, one pulled out a gun… which I knew was a starting pistol, cause at sports club we had one exactly like it. I must have sounded rather brave as I swore at them and stopped them from escaping before the bobbies arrived. Looking back at it, I must have been a different person then. I wouldn’t do it now; that’s for sure certain! In court, their mates said I would pay for this, as they were found guilty and sentenced immediately. Thankfully, I never heard from them again.
I enjoyed writing that. Mind you, I was in a high mood when I wrote this.
Sorry, not much on again. Had a few decent spells.
I detached and emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch and collated all four waste bins into one bigger one and placed them next to the door. I got the kettle on, made a nice strong brew of Glengettie, and had to divert to the wet room .
This was even more gooey and sticky than yesterday’s evacuation! By the time I’d cleaned up and returned to the kitchen to get to the mug of tea, it would have been pointless. It was bound to be too cold! So, I decided to get the washing procedure done early.
Started with the shaving today. And broke a record, I reckon. I acquired seven cuts, all bar one (under my chin), on the back of my neck again. Still, they were all tiny efforts, and the Brut soon stemmed their flow. The stand-up wash went quickly enough, as did the teggie cleaning. Suprisingly.
The medicationings and dressing had their moments!.
The top strap sores on the catheter holder were… what can I call it? Sore, and they became even more painful when the barrier cream was applied. bled a little, but not a lot.The other areas.were nae bother. The Phorpain Gel was well-used. in both knees
needed a good lathering. And and were massaged. I could not reach to get the Germolene onto the split ingrowing toenail. I used the picker-upperer to put some tissue on the big left toe. And were applied. I’m so glad I don’t use the drops now. More of any ete dropping missed the eye and usually ran down my cheek and into my mouth. Hehe! Much more straightforward with the gels and sprays. They cost a lot more… but I can’t take the money with me when I clock out. is with me as I type this; I’m pleased to see a little humour creeping back into the blog while Has taken a temporary furlough from his haunting ways. was done without much bother for once! .
Finally I . Now, I must tackle getting the PPs (Protection Pants) on. I was doing so well with the help of the picker-upperer. I’m not sure how I managed it , but somehow, I caught the release valve while making the final adjustment. Drip-drip-drip… Unwanted semi-panic, I closed the valve, grabbed the large kitchen roll and picker-upperer to clean the mess up… and dropped the roll. Naturally, it bounced on the lip and dived as if under remote control. Splunk into the WC! I finished the cleaning, mopping, freshening up and getting dressed. Not the socks, of course, which are beyond the capabilities of this ageing bad odesmith, with a magnificently muscled and highly toned body and razor-sharp brain.
Made another brew of 99 tea to replace the cold one. I took this morning’s shot from the kitchenette window, and Carer Shaq arrived just as I returned to a state. I could not stop waffling on. I think, anyway. He put the socks on for me (I knew they were on later), and medications were issued.
Belatedly changed the clock calendar. And the day’s started. They were most persistent today. (More later).
And the seizures mean a blank or lack of details of the later Iceland delivery. Yet, I found these photos taken without the slightest memory of taking them. The fridge… no freezer. Not much in the fridge? I’m not sure about what or why this was taken.
Returned later, and I got a good crack on blogging. Albeit interspersed with the mini-seizures throughout, and being error-ridden, needing so much time ot correct so many cock-ups. I may have overloaded the Grammarly memory that is available. Haha!
During Carer Kimberley’s visit, it seems I had several seizures that she witnessed. When I came out of one, she told me that I had been ‘out’ for the longest time Chloe had ever seen me. I was muttering words that made no sense for a minute or two, as if she thought I was asleep and having a dream or nightmare? As she left, she made notes of this on the log. Also told me she recognised two or three of the mini-seizures on this visit, those I was not aware of at all. Then again, I may have got all this wrong or confused due to the seizures. But I think this is one of the more explicit memories. But…
I recall cleaning the old cooker and under the new one and vacuuming, I think, when Kimberly arrived. I’ve found these activities in the morning, down on the notepad.
Hours of doing nothing. I can’t honestly recall turning everything off on the computer, but I must have. On Thursday morning loading, the Ccleaner had been used, so I had to sign in to everything again.
I suddenly felt drained, so I made a meal. Carer Promise helped me with the timing of the cooking. A mixed bag of Beef in black bean sauce meals with extras! A tray of Parsley Box Beef in black bean sauce. A tray of Iceland Box Beef in black bean sauce. One went into the oven – 15 minutes later, the second went in. To try and get them to be cooked simultaneously. Removed from the oven, some garden peas, water chestnuts, and boiled potatoes were added to the slow cooker. Result: Some milk-roll bread for dipping. Haha!
I wanted to stay awake to see the football highlights. I didn’t make it. I drifted off into a deep sleep… but only for an hour. Jumped awake and found myself talking? It took me no time to nod off again. After that, it got farcical and frustrating. As I recall, it was almost a different type of cause for waking up again, which felt like they were every five minutes. Shuddering Shoulder Shirley, Eric’s Electric Leg Shocks, Coughing or sneezing, and the most often one was from Twitching Neck Nigel. I think these may have been caused by Sleeping or Nocturnal Seizures? I’m glad Carer Chloe helped me get an emergency appointment with the Doctor on Monday, the 17th, for Thursday, the 27th. So a ten-day wait to get assistance, and then it is only via a phone call from the Doctor, not a visit.
I assume the seizure problem is based on or coming because of my FND and/or Peripheral Neuropathy links. There are many possible etiologic agents for FND. I seem to have most of them, according to the United Kingdom FND site on Google.
I had my worst night’s sleep ever. It was worse than two weeks ago; I had none for three days. Still, the Doctor is rushing to my aid. Phwert!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – MONDAY MORNING BLIMP – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GENERALLY WAFFLE DDDD’s then unnatural highs… I’m either spouting fripperies, Tweedledum’s, then Tweedledee’s, Both or either, but rarely neither No solution, no help, no arbiter… : : : : : The DDDDs swapping with the highs is eclectic, Leaving me mentally drained, endorheic, Lows are deep, highs make me ecstatic, Why lows? That remains somewhat esoteric, Change of moods, without any logic… : : : : : I suspect it’s something neurophysiologic, Mental or Peripheral Neuropathic? High, Low, High Low, very methodic, Lows can be curmudgeonly, choleric, Highs, for no reason… neurotic! : : : : : I can no longer remain an abnegator, I’ll make an appointment with the Doctor, Say how DDDDs make me feel blanker,
Two sandwiches short of a picnic, seizure! Beg for help with my dysphoria! Oh, and tell her of my gastrectasia. : : : : : A five-cut shave was quite an achievement, Because Shaking-Shaun was absent, Porcelain Throne call, a Trotsky Terence Torrent! This morning Anne Gyna was so condolent, Sandra’s Seizures the opposite, calcitrant!, Ankle Ulcer Ulrich was not urticant! : : : : : Dementia Doreen had my mind all volitant, Seizures repeatedly came and went, Another letter, writing on it said ‘urgent’, A bank letter, unhappy at what I’d spent, An email which caused befuddlement, I’ll pay the bill; be acquiescent! : : : : : Food, power price up, & the rent, Starmer gets me feeling termagant! Nicking pensioners’ fuel cost grant, As PM. he’s a dishonest abomination, The Tories did less damage to the nation, His election stance was anticorruption. : : : : : Keir should be served a summons or citation, Arrested, hung, in any combination, For his lies and known transgression, Never has a PM been more unloved, He at least, should be vilified & reprehended, Criticised, castigated, but not castrated! : : : : : He may be academical, but he is not an Aristotle, Hid backhanders are not apodeictical, His lies turned voters apoplectical, His smugness come over as antagonistical, His past actions are somewhat adumbral, His responses are agathokakological! : : : : : No oligarchs are interested in antipoverty, Nor peace, compassion or any amnesty, Selling arms to both sides, but not equally, They make fortunes with utter efficiency, Innocent victims dying daily, Safe, in their towers, sipping Drambuie : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A busy, tiring & trying day. But some progress was made. I got an appointment with the doctor. No, I’m not joking!
Carer Chloe helped me as I called the doctor’s surgery to make an appointment to get help with DDDD, the Seizures and the ankle ulcer. What a performance it was! The recorded message told me I was fifth in the queue. Recorded messages kept playing, but they were too loud for me to understand them. Sounds daft, but anyone with ménière’s disease would understand the problem. A wave of Chloe’s hand after everyone told me to ignore them, they didn’t matter. Finally, a message telling me I was next in the queue and informing me that I would not be speaking with a doctor, but an Appointment Assessor. I did! She took my details and reasons for wanting to see the doctor. Then, I explained that it would be a telephone call job from the doctor. On Thursday the 27th between nine & twelve. That helped my depression no end. Here is a memory prompter; Can you remember when medics would say, “We’ll keep him in overnight for monitoring”?
I’ve not been well today at all, but apart from DDDD and the seizures taking a tumble, there was no apparent cause for the reversal either, again. Yet, High Spirits Herbert kept popping back up now and then. Puzzled!
Not any detail other than impotant stuff, to me.
I fell asleep this afternoon for hours in 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. A sudden feeling of weariness flooded over me. I might be disintegrating bit by bit? Hahaha!
Nocturnal Catheter Bag.
Morning kitchen window view.
First things first!
I increased the shaving cut to seven this morning. All tiddly little ones. I also cut my finger when cleaning the razor.
Finally got on the computer.
Changed the dates on the clock calendar.
Choe made the first call and then the second, which was domestic. This was when she helped with the mail and doctor’s non-appointment. Hehe! She also checked the dates on my fridge foods and hoovered the hallway. Taking a threatening letter from BG about my needing a new electricity meter down to the Warden’s office.
Carer Sam did the midday call.
I fell asleep due to a sudden feeling of weariness dawning.
It’s not as if I’d done much.
The bacon & cobs tasted terrible.
All the others were delightfully tasty!
Carer Christopher took my diabetic socks off. Medications.
Night-time snap.
Did some catch-up on this blog.
Then, onto WP comments and the Reader,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hasta La Vista!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A Morning Whoopsie Result – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Often, I muse over things celestially…
But mostly of things dyspeptically,
Musing over outer space’s infinity,
And my mentality-psychomotricity,
My situation has changed dramatically,
I sense the coming of instability & insanity,
I would not refuse help psychiatrically,
I turn to the world of pneumatophilosophy,
But knowing it cannot help me be free,
I can’t stop the depression, as you see…
But sometimes they can instantly flee…
From depression, I move to near gaiety,
Nothing has changed, preposterously,
In this High Mode, I regain some precocity,
I often reach the heights of complacency,
My problems remain, but do I feel so jolly?
Yet things will return, & I feel melancholy,
Then DDDD returns again, tenebrously,
This is a guaranteed certainty…
The cycle will start again, unfortunately,
I’ve had DDDD for years, well, about three,
Thinking they may stop pessimistically!
Hoping his reign would go deciduously,
Not coping now, reacting despondently…
I just read up here, and I feel dweeby!
It reads dourly and dyspeptically,
I shan’t write another ode when DDDD…
High Mode Horis isn’t visiting me,
Doing so was a bit silly!
I’ll say a prayer, doxologically,
Now I’m singing, albeit untunefully, Thank Gawd, I’m currently DDDD-Free! But of course, that’s only temporary! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – MONDAY 17th FEBRUARY 2025
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Things are so out of my control, changes are in motion, and the ailments, particularly my and myoclonic seizures. Both seemed… no, not seemed, they were more profound in depth and frequency today. I had a cracker of a DDDD this morning. That was deeper and more overpowering than either had been before. Humph & Tsk! Seriously though, the depression was terrible and stayed with me for hours.
. I got nothing done for ages. I was pityfully sorry for myself, yet nowt had changed to cause this reaction! Well… not from yesterday, anyway. I’ve got to order the prescriptions from the chemist later; I’ll call to see if I can get a Doctor’s appointment to mention these recent increases in depression and seizures.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 05:00hrs; I woke in an almost usual manner. was noticeable by his absence, a cough and a sneeze, and I rose to get the catheter night bag freed from the day bag. The colour was the best for months. I was in a decent mood. No seizures or depression; Anne Gyna was good to me, just a few and one twinge from Duodenal Donald. I was already making plans as I hobbled into the kitchen to get the kettle on and took this snap from the window to the right of the offer view. An unidentifiable glow of light in the centre? As I was making up the waste bag (An old photo used because later the computer or WP would not let me put the one taken on here. Spit!) I decided to get the done. I think by the time I got into the wet room, I was singing to myself. Honestly!Hehe! The need for the Throne. Trotsky Terence was in complete control. It was messy, very messy, and pongy, too! Again, it was all over in seconds rather than minutes. Cleaning things up took much longer. The shaving went well, not a single cut or knick!
Teeth cleaning was a smidge painful, but that’s an accepted thing with the state of my teggies. Haha! The was a success, too! No wonder I was merrily singing. No tumbles or walking into anything; nothing was dropped or broken. ! Well, I did knock over , but let’s not nit-pick while I was in such a reasonable frame of mind.
I dressed and returned to the kitchen to make a brew of Co-op 99 tasty tea. That was when I opened one of the medical drawers to get some anti-poo-poo tablets. I needed to work out which tablets would last a week. It’s a good job that Richard told me it was the chemist to ring last night, or I would have rang the Doctor’s in error. Hehe! I wrote down all the names of the tablets and dosages morning, midday, and evening from the Carers log, then checked that there would be enough to last me. If I remember to call the chemist. Ahem!
I was planning the Ode of the day. (Sorry, it sounds downbeat to me) But it just flowed out, with frustration and depression, I assume. I was going to take it off, but for some reason, I didn’t. The ailments of the day kicked off!
Carer Chris arrived while I was amidst several myoclonic seizures. And DDDD quickly backed them up. I’ve never had either of them for so long or as acute. Chris gave me the medication and put my socks on; that’s all I can recall.
Eventually, DDDD abandoned me in an instant. (I’m certainly not complaining!) The Up-Mode returned, and I was almost content. These changes are doing my head in! And all without thyme or reason, Harruph and Humph!
The myoclonic seizures, I believe, returned. I sat in the chair for two hours, and nothing was done.
Well, not that I could discern, anyway.
Then, as my awareness improved, but not my confidence, I felt no logic to it for an unknown reason! That I had made a mistake with the medication listings. I reviewed and checked the paperwork; it was the same on the Excel worksheet. I could find nothing out of order, but I feared I might have made a blooper in counting the individual tables, so I counted them again. With my Arithmaphobia, lousy eyesight and this nagging conviction that I had done it wrongly, it was no surprise that DDDD had another light-putting-out session on me.
Carer Joanne did the midday call while I was in the middle of assessing the worksheet. It was lovely to see her. She saw the paperwork, and I explained why I was doing it. She’d popped in to return the non-machine wash laundry for me; bless her. She was soon of again on her rounds. ♥
I had one last check, looking for anything obviously wrong with the figures, spelling, or the number of medications in stock that I was about to order from the chemist.
I carefully dialled the telephone number—at least, I thought I was careful. A recorded message told me I had rang an incorrect number and to try again. So, I tried again!
I was so pleased: First, I dialled the correct number. Then the voice of the lady answering the phone was so hearable. Then, with the lady’s patience shown, with my stuttering.
I’d mispronounced some of the medications. She said she had to confirm with the Doctor, and the delivery should be on Thursday or Friday. After thanking her, I avoided going into a . With my luck, DDDD was also making shorter forays into my brain now! I’m crossing my fingers.
Dammit! It might be too late to ring the doctor now, but I still did.
Recorded Message; “You are 13th in the queue” Shame!
I have to get something to eat. Oh, no. The Caregiver is due in the next hour. I’ll leave the fodder until after he or she has called.
I’ll go on to the WP reader and comments.
Concentration was crumbling. But I got them done.
A couple more seizures didn’t help. I hope I didn’t make any mistakes. These were the deep types, where I seemed to carry on and find wrong things later.
When I did this update on Tuesday morning, I found the snap of the teatime clouds I’d missed. Bootiful!
DDDD was back. I did not eat anywhere near all the fodder on the tray. Somehow, I lost my appetite halfway through.
Carer Promise took off my diabetic socks. Paracetomol and Peptac taken. I rubbed some Phorpain Gel on Catheter Chloe, & Arthur Itis’s knees. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheery-Bye!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SMUG MODE ENGAGED
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Continued from yesterday This Friday, I feel horrible and grottier…
More depressed than when I was a gravedigger,
Mindful of failures, thoughts gongoozler,
I mustn’t moan & be a gossipmonger,
Emotions, thoughts like a mental-galumpher,
A change in my luck would be a game-changer!
: : : : :
Plots, decision-making harder, see a headshrinker?
Depression strikes; it’s like getting a mental haymaker,
With sudden spots of uncaring contentment, however,
Following each low, it seems scarier, hairier,
The Sod ’em mode returns with spirits even higher?
Depression; I’m becoming a Harrumpher!
: : : : :
What I’d give for a sanity-reinstaller,
Now my thoughts have caught implicature,
I’m worried about life’s confusing infrastructure…
And the brain neurotransmitters & infostructure,
I’m feeling much more insecure…
Oddly, on the lows, I feel so immature!
: : : : :
When on a high, I’m no joypopper,
In fact, I can be a bit of a jester,
On a low, my mind was like a junketeer,
Back comes a high, & I’m joyfuller,
Doing a crossword, or a jigsaw,
These up moments are much janglier!
: : : : :
On a high: Life seems so much kinder,
A low, life gets instantly knottier,
They’re like a mental-kneecapper,
A high returns, back to things kindlier
Depression, again, is a mental killer!
I feel done up like a kipper!
: : : : :
I feel I could turn back to the liquor…
With depression sent me by Lucifer,
In life, I’m just a leaseholder…
The home had no electricity but a walk-in larder,
The shop I had turned out to be a lossmaker,
Now depressions, life is lurider!
: : : : :
Hello! I’m feeling mirthfuller!
Or is this, though, just misconjecture?
I don’t want to misinfer,
But I feel far less mustier,
Huh! depression back, the meddler,
Suddenly, I’m back in an emotional mire!
: : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Seizures can affect people differently, depending on which part of the brain is involved. I know!
Some seizures cause the body to jerk and shake, while others cause problems like loss of awareness or unusual sensations. They typically pass in a few seconds or minutes. Seizures can occur when you’re awake or asleep. Sometimes, something can trigger them, such as feeling very tired after exercising. I’ve got them…
Simple partial (focal) seizures or ‘auras’ A simple partial seizure can cause: A general strange feeling that’s hard to describe. I’ve got these as well…
A “rising” feeling in your tummy – like the sensation in your stomach when on a fairground ride.
(Too true!) I’ve got them…
A feeling that events have happened before (déjà vu). Spot on! I’ve got them…
Unusual smells or tastes. (Oh, yes), I’ve got them…
Neurological Tingling in your arms and legs. An intense feeling of fear or joy.
(Too true!) I’ve got them as well…
Stiffness or twitching in parts of your body, such as an arm, joint, or hand. Twitching Neck Nigel, Shoulder Shuddering Shirley, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete Hitler Salutes, & Leg Dances – got them all!
You sometimes remain awake and can often be unaware while this happens. I know, I’ve got them too!
These seizures are sometimes known as “warnings” or “auras” because they can be a sign that another type of seizure is about to happen. Yes, I’ve got these, as well!
Tonic seizures: Your muscles can suddenly become stiff, like the first stage of a tonic-clonic seizure. This might mean you lose balance and fall over. I went tumbled twice yesterday!
If you have a seizure, your GP may refer you to a specialist to determine the cause. Hahaha!
You’ll usually see a neurologist, an expert in conditions affecting the brain and nerves. I’ve done that, waiting for surgery. Hope they can remove Dementia Doreen. Hehe!
They’ll want to find out more about your seizure and may suggest having some tests. The Doctor? Not mine! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Depressed for so long today! Can’t shake them off, but I keep going into the opposite state, a sort of ‘Sod It’ I’m Not Bothered’ mode every now and then?
Singing, uncaring, amazing. The up modes are rare but lovely despite them being short periods. ‘Deep-Depression-Duncan’ (DDD) keeps returning for no apparent reason?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I had a decent but short sleep. I nodded off early and sprang awake in a DDD mood at 03:30hrs. Changed the catheter bags, and visited the wetroom.. Beyond Messy!
Had a wash and did the medication, no shaving. The right ankle ulcer looked less inflamed than yesterday. Electric shocks have been shooting up my right leg on and off all day today. The seizures were less frequent than usual, although I did have one before getting the computer on. That lasted for an aeon. Well, it felt like it. But I did no work on the computer. I found that I’d changed the clock calendar.
I got myself all involved in doing some more word-finding for the Odes. I’m addicted. I have no idea why. I spent hours on Word Hippo. I still have not completed the first file!
Carer Chris and then Carer Joanne made the first two calls.
In the late afternoon, I went to make a brew of tea in a vain effort to rid myself of DDD. The garden man had another fire on the go, so I got the Kodak Tim and took two snaps. The fire looked a little larger than on Thursday. At one stage, I thought the trees may set alight. But no, all was well. The chap seems in control. But what is he burning? Doesn’t matter really.
I got the blog done and sent it off to WP. Then, I went on the WP reader. Some great posts on there today
Caught the sun, a rarity in the sky today. I don’t think there will be a sunset tonight.
Went on the WP comments.
I’m waiting for the teatime Caregiver, so I plan to prepare a meal. Potato cakes, perhaps? With garden peas? Nordic bacon? Beetroot? Pickled onions?
Of course, if DDD returns, I may not bother eating at all. But I hope I’m not tempted like I was last night to crack open the cider and beer. I didn’t, but it was a close thing! I’m sick to death of these repeating low spells today; I hope DDD does not return again. Dare I dream?
Potato cakes, fishcakes, tomatoes, beetroots. A simple meal for a simple dimwit. I loved it! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I washed the pots and settled 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’, on the TV. Which I did. As I sat there in a ‘high-mode-mood’, enjoying the storyline, and the commercials came on the box, I thought it advisable to nip and check in the kitchen to make sure I’d not left the tap running, the oven on, or the fridge and freezer door ajar. So, I did just that! As I stood up to catch my balance, I felt my left foot was wet, which made me investigate… Yes! Once again, the release valve on the day the catheter had opened was probably my fault, and I’d involuntarily peed into my slipper!
Now, I faced the dauntingly painful task of getting the wet sock off. What a struggle! I had to stick the picker-upper-grabber on the toe end of the sock and try to pull the foot away to start freeing the sock. Bearing in mind the agony from as I bent the knee, I gave that effort up.
I got the diabetic sock as far down as I could with the help of the picker-upper-grabber. This was not very successful—a little like me in life! I took a tumble. But an hour later, I felt exhausted after struggling to get back up. However, at long last, I’d got the sock off. I think I ought to apply for some kind of medal? Hehehe!
I had to soak the socks in powder and disinfectant in the sink’s bowl. Then, I used the carpet cleaner and freshener around the recliner spillage area. I spread tons of kitchen towels and trod on them again several times.
I was exhausted and was now suffering from the attentions of Back-Pain-Brenda, Cartilage Chloe, Electric Shocking Sherida, and Anne Gyna.
I sprayed the slipper and put it in with the laundry for washing.
I rinsed the diabetic socks I’d left soaking, wrung them out, and put them on a coat hangar to dry above the kitchen sink.
The next job was to clean the left foot. I used the overworked kitchen bowl again. Throughout these disablingly painful procedures, Dark Dank Depression Duncan did not bother me, nor, as far as I’m aware, did I have any seizures.
Carer Chris did the last check call. No socks to take off tonight. Amazed that I’d taken off myself. (So was I, Humph!) The lad took the laundry bag with the socks down for me, along with the waste bag.
Life can be so disturbing & worrying. Hehe! Every Day a Challenge… Well, bring them on, mush!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All the ‘Best of Luck’ sent through the ether!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I no longer seek an admirer, Anyone to be an adorer, One thing I’d like to acquire… Is for someone to answer, From someone like an augurer, Why my life’s not been aglitter! : : : : To say why life’s been a bugger! I’d have liked to have been brainier, I tried to be a bagpiper, To have been less of a blunderer, I was born to become a blooper, In life, I’ve always felt like a beginner… : : : : Not that I want to be a complainer. With age, I’ve become more crotchetier, I was never a gambler or cardplayer, I didn’t want to become a conqueror, I was bare, down to earth, not cavalier, I admit to being a clodhopper. : : : : I’d sooner have been a dragonslayer, But in reality, I’m more of a doomsayer, Generally, I’ve fallen into disfavour, Making me become a despairer, Life’s becoming ever-drearier, Harassed by seizures and dementia, : : : : Ailments taught me to be an endurer, I should press on – but don’t feel too eager, Should I see a medic or physic-examiner, I not looking for a life-extender… More interested in being an escaper, The bliss of being an Earth expirer. : : : : Looking back, I wish I’d been flirtier, I turned out funnier but freakier, Like Keir Starmer the UK Führer, A new movement must foregather, With leaders up for going farther… I bet it’ll be a pensioner or farmer! : : : :
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –Doing Well, Again!– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m so sorry, but depression is rampant. Overriding the electric shocks up the leg. Thankfully, Anne Gyna has been easy on me. Can’t win them all! Humph! Creativity is a minimum, as is the desire to bother. I apologise again. I’m still making up the 200 files I permanently deleted a month ago in readiness for my return to real life. I just can’t concentrate and have this overpowering desire to replace some of the word sheets from scratch. Nothing else got done much at all, really. I did get the early morning ablutions, shower, and shaving done by 06:30hrs because the ups and downs regularly changed to a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ happiness. To the other extreme of frustration and depression, especially early today. I was up at 03:30hrs, waking in a ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered’ mode that kept reversing. No middle-of-the-road, either unstoppably on a high or sinking back into depression. I’d done the shaving, showering, and medicationalisations, and they were all on a high note. All finished and sank down again. Then I got this bug to make up some lost word lists from scratch. Done nothing else, really; I just can’t get it together.
I took a few pictures this morning, but the afternoon was spent on this stupid idea of making up some word lists.
I still do not have them on the blog, but I’ve started on it, although it will be sparse. I’ve used the camera for some photos and left the SD card from last night in the computer thingy slot. So, I hope they can be got at them. I’ll give it a go now… with a bonkers guilt about stopping the word list-making. This is just not natural. But what is?
I will book an appointment in the morning for any time I can get into the surgery with the Doctor; I’m genuinely worried now with Anne Gyna and the Seizures being so regular. The Catheters are getting cunning now, although they have not given way yet today. That threat remains. I need to make time to write down things that I am concerned about, and I will try to be more forceful and make her listen to them all. But I forget so quickly… I’m determined to.
There may not be a blog for a few days, but I’ll try to make a few notes and keep you all informed. Let’s see if I can access the photos taken, not that there are many.
Well, it took me ages and repeated tries, but I got them into CorelDraw on the fourth attempt. I thought the computer would let me save them this time. Yee-Ha! 0345hrs Morning shot.
Rubbish bag to the doorway.
I had never had so many cuts shaving before. Shuddering Shoulder Shirley was the main culprit; after shaving, she stopped again. Huh! Still, they were all tiny ones and didn’t bleed a lot. And I didn’t bang my head! The ankle ulcer had some odd-looking growths coming up. The electric shocks up the leg were on & off all day long.
As I dressed after the medicationings.
Depression arrived. No logical reason. Nothing had changed, but this did not stop the , and
he stayed with me until around 17:00hrs.
Then and the ‘Sod it all, I’m not bothered.’
happiness mode kicked in. This situation has been
reversed so many times without cause
or reason. Up, down, up, down.
I must add this to the list in the morning.
I got the clock calendar undated.
And a mug of Glenettie.
Then, I lost myself and did nothing besides the word list for the ode and, eventually, the ode itself.
I did make a mug of 99 Co-op tea later.
Taking these photos.
When Sam did her 2nd call, I showed her the pictures from the camera. What is it he’s burning every Thursday?
I’m going to get some food cooking.
Back in the morning, I suppose. TTFN.
This feast tasted so lovely, and I tucked into it.
Part-way through &
returned. Why? When I happily ate while watching
my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ on the box, with a contented glow, seconds before? I just stopped eating and threw it away.
Carer Chris called. Medications issues, he got the diabetic socks off for me. Christopher attached the nocturnal catheter bag for me.
At least sleep came early. A broken, ever-jumping, awake session. In the end, I got up at 03:35hrs. With the irritating desire to get the rhyme words upadted. But resisted it. For a while!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I seem to have acquired more blameworthiness, Does this come from my apparent guiltworthiness? Or possibly, from my innocence & guiltlessness? May it be due to my banal gullibleness? It could be from my gutlessness or gutsiness, My seizure episodes that bring gormlessness? My life lived with no moments of being gregarious? Or my periods of excessive garrulousness? A lifetime of receiving sideways glances? Undoubtedly, my depression and gloominess? Or my lack of confidence, which is ginormous? My infected brain has a certain grotesqueness, My ageing body shows signs of ghostliness, Mind & body decaying, it’s getting grievous, As I mentioned earlier, always the guiltiness, My search for painlessness was gainlessness, Surviving life’s been a stab in the dark, a guess!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not the best of days.
At least I got some good sleep. It was broken, of course, but I reckon I still enjoyed a whopping seven hours. Nice!
The nocturnal pouch clour was another 4 on the NHS scale. With the Health Checks doing so well, I was well-pleased, to say the least.
A morning of mini-seizures. I’m not surprised; I was notified of a change in living circumstances late in the day. My own fault; only me or Doreen Dementia is to blame.
The seizures didn’t help. I struggled with the odeing and spent far too much time (Over four hours) trying to flow right. I’m not all that sure I improved it.
No confidence today. Plenty of the ankles sending electric shocks up the ankle, and the seizures, albeit they were short ones, I think, handicapped my brainpower.
A morning shot of the kitchenette view.
Adjusted the calendar clock.
And the biggest, well, most prolonged Seizure ever visited me.
I cannot recall much; the blanks were long.
In the late afternoon, I got the letter hand-delivered informing me about the upcoming changes.
Oh, I’ve not put the delivery photos on yet. So, I will. Some of my favourite eats were delivered.
But I was not in the mood to feel cheerful
about anything.
The Natoora tomatoes were a bit soft, but I used them in the meal later. They were tasty! Chessy-topped cobs.
I’ll have two of them tonight. The fridge was looking fuller now.
Now it’s Nosh Time. Battered onion rings were done in the oven. The mini Spanish tomatoes were thrown away; they tasted terribly bitter. All else was eaten. In my depression, I forgot to score the taste. And cannot remember what I gave it.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Cheerio Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A PROBLEM-SOLVING ODE I have difficulty nowadays with problem-solving,
They keep coming, constantly revolving,
Solutions, Dementia is abnegating,
With her, I find myself argufying,
Neither side prepared for amnestying,
She seems against consciousness-expanding,
Memory-Mangling-Malcolm is not attenuating,
I spend far too much time error-correcting,
Instead of problem ameliorating,
Anne Gyna refuse pain subjugating,
My brain is beyond any aestheticising,
And I cannot take any more criticising,
Nit-picking, mockery or Starmer’s lying,
Crooked politicians, I find aggravating,
To hopes, I am no longer clutching,
I find life fatiguing and debilitating,
For Starmer, the hatred I’m harbouring,
His lack of compassion is inturbidating,
The Labour Party he is torpefying…
With his lying, fiddling & cheating,
His hatred of pensioners is unrelenting
He financially crippled anyone farming,
Thus, I find myself Starmer vernacularising!
Pensioners he has robbed & now he’s killing,
How he’s escaped prosecution is concerning,
He knows the crimes of others? It’s unnerving,
Is this why the opposition isn’t even chiding?
If they did, may they be in for good hiding…
Does he know of others’ financial juggling?
How to stop him? Revolution energising,?
To get my hopes pulsating, piquing…
To read of his painful, slow dying,
I’d celebrate by doing much imbibing!
It’s past time that he should be resigning,
Each day the git stays, the more I’m spitting!
I’ve few teeth left, but they are gritting…
He should leave, take up birdwatching,
Best suited would-be Emus; Australian,
With his record, he needs chloroforming,
With his cabinet, there’s been little conferring,
Apart from his drinks cabinet, port drinking,
He needs help, maybe some counselling,
By the Grim Reaper would be a good thing!
Assassination, I’m not considering… Although assassination has a comforting ring… His decisions may soon start boomeranging, If the end comes, & he goes… that’ll be bracing, Starmer will need swiftly replacing, Mayhap by a druid or a droid, it’s complicating, Or a human being, with his nature contrasting… One who isn’t always fiddling or lying? But to find an honest MP may be disillusioning, One fit enough to do Prime Ministering… Especially one that is morality-emitting, One who is history-free of lying & fornicating… An honest MP? It’s just an impossibility!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 04:40hrs: I stirred back into ersatz life. I waited for Twitching Neck Nigel to ease off. Nigel was accompanied by a few of Eric’s electric ankle shocks, which were shooting up my right leg. I think that Lymphorrhea Leslie is beginning to swell enough to burst again. But come the late afternoon, Anne Gyna became the worst ailment, even than the seizures, pure pain, and I was gasping with it as I walked back from Sherwood after shopping in the rain, but I mustn’t complain, and going to the dentist and cake shop. Not for me!
I used the small picker-upperer to get some cream on the ankle. Then, I detached the nocturnal pouch from the day Catheter bag. I realised I had time to go before getting dressed to go to the dentist, and I sorted the waste bags out as the first job. I decided to have just one mug of Co-op 99 tea and cut the water drinking out. I hope the catheter bag does not overfill while I’m in Sherwood. Before concentrating on what I need to do and take with me, I have a bus pass, keys, cash, card, and Bisoporol Fumerate in case Anne Gyna kicks off. Would you believe that I forgot to put some in my pocket? What a twit! I took a couple of shots from the kitchenette window of view on offer to the right and left. These didn’t come out too badly. The few snaps I took while out in the rain, legging it back up Winchester Street Hill, were terrible efforts.
I got the things needed in the walker and my pockets. (Well, as I said, I did forget to take the Beta-Blockers!
I put my feet in a bowl with an antiseptic disinfectant and soaked them while brushing my teeth and then shaving. I had so many cuts shaving this morning that counting them was hard. Haha! 7+ is my guesstimate! I spent much time stopping the little bleeders’ flow, but the Brut aftershave eventually won. I got some more Germolene cream on Lymphorrhea, Leslie. Then dropped the tube… hitting myself on the head on the sink. I precisely targeted yesterday’s injury as I bent down to retrieve it! Looking at this selfie, I seemed to have acquired more bruises than I thought. Of course, they could have been from last night’s Whoopsiedangeplop?
The innards rumbled and grumbled as I left the wet room, and I got down on the WC post-haste! Had I not been naked and I’d had to remove a dressing gown and nightshirt, I’m sure I would never have got down in time! This would have been another major embarrassing incident to clean up!
I got the medicationings done in a short time. My concentration was elsewhere, you see. I wanted to get at least a little done on the blog. I adjusted the old-fashioned clock calendar. I made another brew of 99 tea. Somehow, I failed to drink the first one earlier on.
Arrived on the first call. I had just gone into a Seizure Mode. Events are a little vague. I feel she helped me with the bus timetable. I can’t understand why I have this Arithmaphobia about numbers, time, etc. Dementia Doreen, I assume, getting worse and spreading her control.
I pressed on with the blog and got Mondays posted. Not a good one, but at least I got it out. Returned to do the Domestic. I was fully with it this time. She helped me get the diabetic socks on, explained the buses, and checked on my appointment with the dentist. She also cleaned for me. Bless her.
DENTIST SHERWOOD VISIT: I still can’t realise I left the Beta-blockers behind. But I think I’d got everything else I needed. I intended to walk down the hill and get the bus back up. But it turned out the opposite. As I was going out, Carer Sam arrived, and she walked me to the Winwood Court lobby. As I approached the bus stop and walked past it, I noticed a bus was due in two minutes. So, I caught it. Made a mess of getting myself sat down as Cartilage Chloe gave way on me. Two passengers helped me get off the bus four stops later in Sherwood. There are some kind folks. I appreciated that cause I was having a seizure at the same time that I got off the bus. My thanks go to them!
As I crossed the road to visit the Heron Store for the first time, the rain started splattering down. I remembered the pork knuckle, Pork Pie with egg, and potato waffles they used to sell in the Bulwell store, and my taste buds were already tingling as I went in and made my way to the fresh food fridges. They had none of my favourite foods on the shelves they used to stock long ago. Sob! However, looking at the receipt when I got home, I’d spent £16 with them. Cellotape, treats for the Carers and nurses, Easter eggs, and some Schweppes Tonic Water with watermelon. I did not realise what I was spending at the time due to a three-minute seizure at the checkout. I felt it coming, coped with it, then realised I was not with it.
Up the hill to the Dentist. A complete stranger saw me struggling to get the walker shopping bag up the 4 steps outside the front door of the surgery. Bless her. ♥ I’d never have made it without her tremendous help. I got into the reception, only to find that I had got the wrong time for the appointment! I was 1½hrs early! The lady looked at me with a sideways glance. I responded by saying not to worry, that I had my crossword book and pen with me, and I apologised for getting the timing wrong. I moved into the waiting area. And started on the crossword book. Amazingly, I got a few answers, too! The receptionist told me they had rearranged the dentists, and I could go to the surgery in a minute to be seen by another dentist. A minute later, she indicated that I could go in now. The Dentist had an investigation into the state of my teeth. Summing up, he said you will need significant surgery; are your teeth too painful. I waffled on about the pain spray I used almost daily, and he said the same as the other dentist said on the last four visits; We’ll see how you go; they should be alright until then, don’t you think? OK, I said. Went to pay the receptionist. £30. Who helped me & my shopping down the 4 steps at the front door.
The rain was heavier now, but that did not deter me from going to the cake shop to buy some cream cake treats for the staff. Unbelievably, as the lady asked which cakes I wanted, I delved into another seizure. Asked her to pick them for me. Paid with my bank card, and as I went out, I read the receipt, £8.90. I’ve spent a bit today.
I decided to take a different route back up to the flats. Instead of going down Mansfield Road and up Winchester Street Hill back to the apartments, I went down Hallem Road and around Winchester Hill. En route, the rain had disturbed all the mud from the many trees being cut down. They were pushing their roots up and cracking the pavement tarmac. I felt sorry for this one on the left. I can see beauty in trees, and I had a little natter to this one as I passed it. Don’t laugh! Hehe! As I got onto Winchester Hill and turned left, up towards the flats, I took this snap on the right. And the heavens opened up! The rain flooded down, and I tried to protect the things in the bag from getting soaked. But, worse… Suddenly, it got the worst she’d been, pain-wise, for years. But I was not surprised in the least. The struggle up the hill had annoyed her. I was stopping to get even wetter every few minutes and let the stabbing pains from ease off. Half an hour later, I’d reached the level of the flats. Anne Gyna eased off for a few minutes when I hobbled along on the straight, even, flat Chestnut Walk. I felt so much better when I got into the Winwood Court complex. I dropped the cakes off, and they gave me the list of my banking details; bless them both.
I felt weary but contented at having made the little trip without any real . And feeling good. I got up to the apartment and dried myself off. Emptied the catheter pouch, got the kettle on, and put the purchases away. Ah, I forgot I’d bought some beer-battered chips & onion rings. I might have them for tonight’s meal. If I ever get this blog started, that is. I opened the watermelon soda bottle and got on with updating this blog.
Carer Chris arrived. His new daughter, whose name he gave me, is in fine shape. I forgot her name, and I asked him twice.
It’s late now, so I’ll get summat made to eat. Carer Chris will be calling again soon.
