Not been too well today – just ran out of time to get the blogging done, I’m afraid. Catheter pouch troubles and a concentration destroying constant pains from the Mystery shooting rib-pains. But I have done my bestest. Which was not very good!
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05:00hrs: Woke to discover, as I got into position to disconnect the catheter night pouch, I spied that it was completely empty. This somewhat bamboozledme a smidge. On further investigation, I found that the day bag pouch’s release valve had not been opened. When I went to roll up the jammie leg, the bag was so full that I had to drop them instead: which was a beginning of a farcicalness of great magnitude. I tore the PPs on the tube clip. Caught causing it to bleed, and losing time getting it to stop. And emptying the pouch, clouted my knee on the edge of the WC, and knocked stuff off of the floor cabinet… which stayed where they were; and are still there now.
Which combined, caused the terribly nasty mystery stabbing rib pains to kick off, which more or less put me out of action for hours.
It was gone midday before I could make a start on this, and Herbert above started his cacophony of bangs and tap-tapping.
I was still not right mentally or physically. The constant pains ensured that. I did take some photographs throughout the day, though, not as many as usual that helped trigger the memory.
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I must have taken this one after or during one of the many visits to Porcelain Throne. All were messy affairs again!
. made the first three calls.
Not like him to miss taking the bin bags.
He took them, I think, on the last visit. A
nice lad, he’s slowly coming around to liking
and understanding my humour, I think.
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Early morning photo; I can’t recall taking it.
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Ah, I can remember this one. I was just beginning to get on
with the blog, stood up to go and make a brew… I’d forgotten to check the catheter bag.
Evening shot?
Car Park. ‘Oh, a space?’
Going to get something to eat before the last Carer calls.
Hope it’s my mate, Richard.
Back in a bit… or in the morning.
THE MORNING CATCH-UP
A not-very-good-looking nosh was enjoyed, all the same.
This photo was taken part-way through eating it.
Which is better than taking a photo without
the SD card in the camera, I suppose.
I stirred. Past wind and then blood from . It was a struggle to remove, and finally I did, & But being the fave heroic, pain-taking, sod-em-all that I am, it was no sweat taking the agony from the Mystery-Rib-pains as I bent down. , well Hehe! I stopped crying anyway. There was not much wee-weeing done overnight again.
I went to the wet room on a mission of several natures: To clean up the blood from the legs, pants and jammie bottoms. Respond to the need of the Clean the teeth, have a shave, wash & medicate my delicates, front and rear… but these plans were destroyed completely by the being in charge for weeks of rear-end evacuations, . The seine caught me out big time this morning! , he kicked off spurting and spraying the porcelain, tank floe and me with his watery gooey, stinking light brown excrement.
Embarrassed doesn’t seem a strong enough word to use for how I felt, somehow. Ashamed? Uncomfortable? No... It’s even cringeworthy writing about it. I should have left this bit out, shouldn’t I? Sorry! But it’s how things are nowadays. How my life has dwindled to a fight to do the simplest things is so disheartening. There’s always something to impede the simplest of actions, even threatening to go right. Appointment either waited on, transport to be arranged for. Worried in case the time and dates would clash when they did arrive. Cataract repair and new Cornea at the QMC EENT Centre. They cannot do the cataract in the left eye until the right one is done and settled. Then there is Glaucoma in the left eye; and Saccade in the right eye… Tsk! I’ll never live long enough to get them done! I was looking forward to seeing what St. Peter looks like at the gates, as well. Hehehe! The Coppice, next visit in February. Brain Scans are to be done to find out which type of Doreen Dementia I have. The DVT Clinic and the Warfarin anticoagulation Clinic appointments have been cancelled and may or may not be reissued.
The Audio Clinic is desperately needed with the satiate of my ears and hearing. The crap, dodgy dentists, I can’t get another NHS one with the state of things with all the strikes etc. Going back in apparently in a fortnight, as the catheters are not clearing the bladder of urine at all.
Then the Urology nurses will be calling to check on the catheter and give me more bladder scans. Hopefully, not changing the catheters too often – that’s a damned painful process. Since the urine infections started, when I found blood in the urine and passed it from the rear end, about six weeksago, I had a change of catheters; 3 times at the QMC A&E, Eight times; in the ward. And four times on home visits by the nurses. Although the pain might be worth it.
The Warfarin nurse will be taking blood to work out the INR level – and that’s well out of target.
The mystery pains in the ribs side and back still need sorting out. I’ve mentioned them twice to the Doctors, once at the Urology and to the Carers here. They are acute stabbing pains that come on when I stretch with the right arm or raise it too high. Oh, and if I bend down…
But one must look on the bright side of life, as Brian said. At least no one has shot me for nearly 22 years. This prompts me to tell you that the Mystery Rib pains hurt more than being shot! But does anyone show interest or concern about the old fool? No!
I got carried away there, didn’t I?
You see, one day, someone will read this blog – hopefully, a neurologist who can help me with the , or heavens above, with the guilty of giving me many a tumble … or not.
Where was I before I lost the plot? Look at the time, blimey! 15:15hrs already. Back to the Diary, methinks. I’ll have to cut this short.
The kind, caring. vampire in the flat above. launched into one of his clunk-thudding mechanical serenades.
Give him credit; he is a good musical noise maker.
Fair enough, he may be impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable tit-head, but his clanging and banging are ringing out musically this morning. I was nearly sorry when he stopped so soon.
I mopped the kitchen with the speed-mop. This proved to be such a mistake. Trying to mop with a stick in one hand, mop in the other, and stupidly bending and stretching to get into the corners – kicked off the bloody mystery rib pains stagging away, as bad as they’ve ever been, and they kept on for hours and hours. And I still haven’t got around to teeth cleaning, shaving and washing yet!
Carer Kara called – medications done, chinwag for a bit, and catheter checked.
Fourth trip to the throne. Usual Trotsky Terence performance
Two bags of laundry still to do in the junk room. Can’t remember who, Carer Kara or Carer Lisa (guessing here, can’t remember who came, really). But the bags had gone later.
Took these photos in two different modes on the Lumix.
Can’t see much difference in them anyway.
Blogging away for hours… well, a say blogging away; it was more like making errors and errors and throwing in a few more for good measure.
And the were rather numerous, which cost me a lot of time.
No idea why I took this photograph of the carer’s table. I wonder if it was some inspirational idea for a sauciness for some sort of a laugh?
Suppose not.
Almost got caught out again with the new small catheter pouch. I soon had it sorted out.
The Virgin Internet is far too slow for me and has the odd freezing moment? Not very good at all.
Did I mention the tea and porridge?
Or crap parking?
Milky wee-wee?
No, it’s Dettol, you see.
Better get some food sorted out.
Photo Lost: Due to my leaving the SD card in the computer when I took the shot. But I also blame … and the! Well, why not?
After cleaning the pots and making a brew afterwards, the immediate urge to use the arrived, and I rushed to the wet room… I did not make it in time. The sticky, gooey, runny evacuation started before I’d got the pants and PPs beyond the mess of the catheter paraphernalia.
I am sick of this happening. Telling the doctors brought no response from any one of them; Doctor’s Locum at the surgery, QMC A&E, or the three Doctors I told when at the .
Now, the Mystery Rib Stabbing Pains got worse than they had ever been before. It was properly painful and came on, as usual, every time the right hand pressed on something, stretched, or was raised.
I suppose the panic rushing to get to the Throne and struggle with the trews must have been too much movement, and this kicked it off? Arrived, she tried to ring 111, but she could not get through. Which was not surprising for a Saturday night. The winos, drunks, injured gang members etc., would all be blocking up the A&E and telephone lines by now.
Returned for the final call and Night Catheter fitting.
Meanwhile, I had a wash & shave and bagged up some things that might be needed if I go to the hospital again. Then Jo-Anne and Carer Ty called to see how I was.
I found that if I did not move, the stabbing pains in the ribs were coming less often and not so sharp. Or was I imagining this?
The physical and mental decrepitude. The obliteration of sight, hearing and logic. Combined with a lack of confidence, my ability to fret and worry over everything, and the vain attempts to understand life and people. Combined with my failure to comprehend what and why the hell am I doing here… keeps the brain active, if nothing else. If the brain was not under the control of , and the body ruled by Ailments such as, things could be better!
Jolly Good Morning. Although it didn’t last long… about an hour)
I felt the freedom of having the catheter was just a memory. And began to potter about the moment I woke up[ belatedly at 07:00hrs.
I merrily poddled to the Porcelain Throne and enjoyed the pleasure and simplicity of getting my pants down without all the rigmarole of struggling to get by the tubing, ties, straps and pouches attached to my right leg. But the joy was soon dented. For the smelly was in full command of the evacuation again. Worra, gooey mess! Cleaning up took me ages!
Took some photos of the high-in-the-sky moon.
Then tried for a close-up.
Went to get a drink of water from the bottle in the front room.
Took this snap of the lovely family thought up, made and sent to me by HRH Lisa-Petal, in Cincinnati! Thanks, Lisa, my precious one! ♥
Into the kitchen!
The window shelf had all the things moved to the left by my mate to make room for him to get around to setting up my new air fryer and showing me how it works. I’ve waited eight weeks, so, no rush. Hehehe!
I got the computer on, and ! Just when the Money-Manipulator Fries had managed to keep the LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet to work without it conking out… for two whole days (Well done, Fries by the way), this happened yet again!
After another elongated visit to the Throne – swiftly followed by visit number three (All messy!) Money Manipulating Genius Fries’ LIBERTY-GLOBAL Virgin Media Internet came back on. Were you wondering why I wrote LIBERTY-GLOBAL in capitals? Well, that is because he has told all the UK call-centre staff never to mention LIBERTY-GLOBAL to any customers, in fact not to say the name at all. Now, this may be because he realises he does not know how to run an Internet-providing service? LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media!
But why? When Fries obviously has plans to destroy the company, with his insistence on not providing a workable service, overcharging, and telling porkie-pies on his ridiculous fancy adverts full of hogwash? LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media! It could be I’m jealous of his phenomenal salary, guaranteed bonuses, and limitless expense account.
But I’d love to find out what his ulterior motive is for spending billion on purchasing Virgin Media and letting it rot? Plainly, just read TrustPilot reviews. 80% of complainers still think and blame Richard Branson fr the miserable service. Saying he is making money for his space trip etc. (Last year).Which, of course, Fries does nothing to counter.
It must have something to do fiscally-wise, this mystery activity with its smoke & mirrors managed antics from Fries. Possibly trying to give the impression (It’s mostly about impressions at Liberty-Global), compared to reality, I think.
A way of increasing Liberty-Global’s share in the Stock Markets in some way?
He’s a handsome, cunning, devious, scheming character, full of mystery and seld-preservation at the top end, financially.
I’m beginning to like him; the longer he gets away with conning his bosses at Liberty-Global, you know. LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media LIBERTY-GLOBAL Bought Virgin Media!
So I thought I’d mention that Liberty-Global does own Virgin Media a few times.
Did I get carried away there? Hehehe!.
Kept guzzling water in hopes that the catheter would not be put back on.
Email from Morrison offering £15 off a £60 order yesterday. I thought I’d ordered it for next Thursday… it’s coming today.
Asda and then a Morrison order the next day.
I think I may have done this the other week?
Boxed them for me.
Cupboard bag
Fresh stuff
Full fridge, do you think?.
Tried to ring for me to find out about the account, but she was unable to get through to them.
TWO PRETTY YOUNG NURSES ARRIVED
To give a bladder scan to assess the problem
I fear it was a bit farcical. I got a smidge confused with two people talking, then arrived, and now I was in utter confusion. Tsk!
The nurses did a bladder scan, and the look on their faces told me that the catheter was going to have to be put back on.
They gave me every chance. Sent me to the WC with a pot and told me to wee-wee in it. Then did another bladder scan…
But it was not good; they told me how much urine was left in the bladder after I’d passed the urine, and it was dangerously half-full.
Then the painful but amusing fitting of the equipment began.
They could not believe I didn’t have a bed or settee to lay on while they fitted the tubing into the Little Inchie. This caused some consternation, and one of them phoned the Urology doctor for advice.
But they were pleasant enough throughout, and I had them laughing away at times. I got in the recliner, and they said tilt it back, please. When I told them it did not work, all three of the ladies looked amazed, but they tried to get it going… but it wouldn’t have it.
Then the inserting of the tube into Little Inchie was about to begin: I cracked mayhap my best joke of the visit…
Nurse: “Drop your pants down, please..”
Inchie: “Have you been trained in micro-surgery then?”
Nurse: “It’s not micro-surgery, Gerry…”
Inchie: “Yes, it is; you’ve not seen what you’re putting the tube into yet!” Laughter rang around the room!
They had problems getting the thick tube into the miniature Little Inchie. But it went in, on the third try, using lots of the gel stuff.
Of course, I smiled pleasantly as the tube started its travels. Being the sturdy, strong young man that I am, I gritted my teeth like a man! I laughed as the tube went in and through Little Inchy, the urethra, the prostrate and then into the urine-filled bladder. I was nattering away to help them keep calm! They looked rather nervous and kept asking me if I was alright and if it was hurting? Bless ’em.
The young Nurse got the catheter on but struggled and missed off many of the loopholes with the top and bottom holding straps. Thus, I now have a bend in the longer tubing; that requires concentration when sitting down. Argh!
The bag was different to the others I’ve had; it was much smaller?
I must remember to check it more often!
Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch – Check the Pouch! I bet I forget and get caught out! What are the odds?
Went to make a brew of Glengettie tea.
I found I’d left the hot tap running again!
Well, time to get some nosh done. Bacon lardons and tomatoes with some bread and a dessert, methinks?
I burnt the pan of tomatoes, cleaned it up and put another can in the pan. Enjoyed it. Flavour Rating 8/10.
INCHIE HAS A MOAN
Arrived, a know-all, snottily superior attituded lad. Self-Self, Self. He asks, “What have you got to tell me, then?” Goes on his mobile and doesn’t listen. And didn’t take the bags with him to the chute onany of his three visits today. He took a drink on each visit as he left without any being offered to him. (He could have asked, and I’d have said yes anyway) I could see him taking them in the reflection from the computer screen. I don’t want him coming again.
He’s down for a visit tomorrow, likely a few on Sat & Sunday. I’m uncomfortable with him, nervous. Dare I ask Meridian for him not to call again after this weekend?I hate conflict. But… getting a pushy egotistic, ostentatious Carer is not what I envisaged when paying for them.
The sleep was again full of waking ups and drifting back off into never-never land so often all night long. With all the other medical worries, Carer Ty’s pushiness, the Catheter and bladder, vision, and my hearing problems, this lack of sleep was the last thing I needed. It’s bad enough getting through all these medical appointments. Dementia Doreen, Peripheral Neuropathy Pete, and the Mystery Moving Rib Pains (At the back now), Repeated failure in getting the Urology problem solved, Catheter in and out more often than I have hot dinners, I’m struggling to keep it together. Nothing unusual here, though. Hehehe!
DVT Nurse, then the Urology Nurse Fiona, who called twice; First, to take off the catheter and scan the bladder and returned to scan again. She was not so happy with this one. and to see how and if the urine was flowing. She’s coming back tomorrow to do another bladder scan, with ink inserted. And if necessary, to put the catheter back in. Oh, dearie me! Amazon delivery. Important letters arrived. Trotsky Terence was in full charge of the many messy Porcelain Throne usages. I took a tumble in the hallway. Got to stop taking the Anti whatsit capsules… but may need to start taking them tomorrow according to the ink reading results on the scanner. I’m thoroughly confused now. Although this is nothing unusual.
Burnt fingers on the oven. Then I lost the mobile phone. Found it four hours later… I prefer not to say where I found it… Oh, go in then… It was in the oven!?!? Luckily the oven was not on. The question is, why and how did I put it in there in the first place? Pass!
So, an even busier day, the photos and graphics will get put on. Many memory blanks, it’s getting late already and I’ve not started the blog graphics yet.
Two morning photos were taken between the multitude of messy, spongy, gooey visits suffered. .
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Potatoes are put in a slow cooker around 08:00hrs.
Got taken out around 21:00hrs.
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Got the Night Catheter off.
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The eighth visit to the .
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The ninth visit to the .
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Nurse Fiona arrived, she was a breath of fresh air, Bless Her! (Yes, I fell in love again!) She was here for well over an hour. When she’d painlessly removed the catheter from Little Inchie, she did a bladder scan.
Too much urine in the bladder. Back to water drinking. That amount of urine should have been released into the catheter. She said she’ll return later in the afternoon to have a look. Constantly reminding me to drink, drink, drink! Hehe! So I drunk!
The Asda order arrived
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Made sure I guzzled water while putting the food away!
. Delivery
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Bit naughty with the biscuits?
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Cut back on this order
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Although… maybe not enough? Haha!
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When Fiona returned, I’d shrank a two-litre bottle of Valley Spring water. A one-litre Sunrise water and a flavoured 2-litre Elm Water.
I showed Fiona the water bottle for the urine and the drops I’d passed, and Fiona seemed happy enough with my efforts. She asked me to try and pass again, which I did, but not a lot. Seeing the liquid changed her mood a smidgen, And she did another bladder scan there and then.
She, or someone else, will return tomorrow with a different scanner. I don’t think she was impressed with whatever it was that the scanner revealed. She repeated that if I can’t pass more water, they will have to refit the Catheter in the morning; if so, I’m to restart taking the Acute Pyelonephritis capsules. It’s all go here!
Teatime rains
Around 19:30 hrs. Wonderful sky!
Carer Kara and Joseph called during the day. Kara will try to contact Easy-Link to get a lift to the Coppice Mental Health Hospital for me. And contact Easy Link about whether or not I owe them or they’ve taken the money out.
Well, fancy that!
Straps were left by Fiona in case the catheter has to go back on tomorrow. at the thought of it!
Fiona left reminders for me about things. I can’t remember what they were at the moment. They were for the carers as well, I think.
Did the late call on me. Checked the Meds, taps, and cooker. He wrote a message in marker pen on the fridge door, as he knew I was abbot to cook my belated meal of the day, to remind me to turn off the taps and cooker.
Early morning nosh prepared. Very nice, too, it was.
Flavour Rating 8.5/10.
Another ran out-of-time-day. Sorry if it is out chronologically, mistakes-wise or if other errors appear. Mostly been created from photos and what few memory notes I scribbled – the brain seems to have gone on strike! It’s the in thing nowadays!
Took the catheter bag of myself this morning – I had to cause the need of the Porcelain Throne was urgently needed, and with the other clarities etc., over the last two days with tripping and treading on the tubing, I thought it best.
Over the first hour of actioning, my magnificent muscular, fit handsome body from the terrible night’s sleep, I had to use the Throne no less than four times! Every one of them was messy and gooey, with cleaning ups needed.
After the first session, I decided to get the ablutioning done.
Part way through, I was trying to stop the third shaving cut from bleeding at the time; I had to use the Throne again. Suddenly flooded the mouth, I think I must have broken off a bit of tooth near the gum. I got up automatically to get some toilet paper to use to stem the flow… but the evacuation was still taking place. I did genuinely feel .Nothing new there, then!It took me ages to clean up again, and I was beginning to get self-irritated!
Back to the front room, now attired in my day clothes but no socks, I’ll ask my mate to help with those. A bit nippy this morning.
After a while of computing, the catheter started itching. The catheter bag’s elastics had dropped down the leg.
However, Richard arrived then. He got the medications sorted and told me I had to take the new Antibiotic course again, starting now. So, I did.
He then told me, as I showed him the calendar… I’d put the Catheter removal on a wrong day, it was today, not tomorrow, so I changed it.
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I asked him if he’d help me get the specks on, please.
He said it would be best to ask the nurse/s when she/they take off
the catheter to put them on for you. To avoid any hassle while removing it? So I said I would. I’ll get something right today… surely I must?
Gave him some treats in thanks, and Richard checked the taps and stove.
Off he sent on his rounds. Bade him all the best and thanked him.
An hour or so later, when I was busily making cock-ups, and mistakes and forgetting what it was I was going to write after correcting the grammar I’d already written… I think? The was needed again.
But this time, unlike the eleven visits I’d made yesterday, had lost his grip on the process, and from nowhere, unexpectedly, my old friend had taken over command…
I was getting fed up with getting nowhere with the crosswords for ages. Counter the cracks on the ceiling… even had to give up on that. and are getting slowly worse. I picked my nose, whistled, and eventually, a mini-evacuation shot out of its own accord – the movement was over in seconds! annoying somehow.
Ah, a Highlight Event! .
The beautiful DVT-Warfarin Haematology nurse arrived as I was getting off of the . I thought at first it was the door chime ringing, and rushed to get the trews up, got out of the wet room door (And casually shoulder charged the door frame as I left the room), and realised it was the intercom going (It being lit-up helped me notice it, Hehe!)
Hristina asked me how the hospital visit went as she came in. Now that was lovely of her! ♥ And she listened when I told her, too! Wonderful!
Computing again. I decided this time, I would focus on a venom. I was tenacious in my determination to concentrate on what I was trying to do.
I think I went into a slight . It didn’t last long…
Mistakes, ha! Sometimes I see them as thumbing my nose at the puritans. That phrase I stole from a fellow WordPress blogger & poet named Paul. Thanks, mate! I’ve been waiting for a suitable time to use it. (And remember it!
Visits from, and a nasty, but very rare in a sat down position put an end to my planned venture into pretending I could be capable again.
Instead of acting like a wordsmith and getting on with the blogging, I had to go to the wet room to try and stop bleeding. Yes, the dance had tugged at the Catheter tube in Little Inchie… bloody? Bloody sore at this moment still! Even delicate might be the word. Tsk!
But it turned out lucky that I did go to the wet room.
The catheter pouch was on the point of bursting, I think. Again, I had a job to pull up the trouser leg, so dropped them instead and emptied the bag
I decided to get the potato out of the crock-pot. checked that it was cooked before she checked the taps and turned off the heater for me.
I sliced the overcooked potato and got it in the oven with the last of the potato rostis in the oven to crisp them up. The last of the tomatoes and the vegan frankfurters (which tasted great!) and along with the last of the pots of strawberry jam thingumajig dessert.
Later, not sure what happened between this and the last thing, a touch of , methinks.
I do recall taking these pictures, though. I’m pretty sure I took them in SCN Handheld Nightshot Mode.
Not that they came out very well, although the bottom one of the car park was not too bad. A touch of eeriness about it? Obviously, the first one was taken like that on purpose. Ahem!
Arrived for the late-night call, and I was watching TV.
We had a little natter, and Richard changed the catheter night bag.
We had a minute or two of pleasant nattering away, but the lad was ready for his bed, bless his cotton socks. I went with him, catheter bag in hand, to the door and locked it when Rich had left. They don’t like me doing this, but I can’t get the picture of the yobboes who came into the flat one night. If the key-safe would work for use, it would not be a problem.
Then I got on the computer again, re-determined to get it done.
MYSTERY PHOTO
Not sure how I managed to take this photo. It must have been as I was on the computer, and the TV was still on. Trigger-Finger Problems? Hehe!
Rotten night again. Forever waking up with a jolt! .
After another night of ever waking up with a jump, never failing to take a moment to work out where I was, I stirred gently back into mock life and realised that the first thing needed was a visit to the . I gleaned this fact from the bubbling innards and warmth of the stomach and rear-end area. Got to the wet room, yet again, just in time. But that’s a lot better than being too late with all the consequences entailed with that! Hehe!
I cleaned up the pebble-dashed Porcelain and myself and started the complicated job of getting my trousers up past the attached catheter and tubing. I had not got them up, and a second wave of gooey, sloppy evacuated product arrived. More cleaning up was required; I was getting tired out already. Hahaha!
I got the belated tackled and was well-pleased to see that today was the third in a row of my being in the High-Normal amber zone!
Now, if we can get the Warfarin /DVT INR level up a smidgeon, I can then go into s Super-Smug-Mode. I think that Fridays glitch of shooting up to Hyper-Two, was due to my visiting the Doctor and then the City Hospital Urology appointments?
Time for the first brew of the day. No easing into it with a Punjana… I was feeling pretty good, so delved into a full-on-flavoured mug of the, originally mixed for the Welsh Miners in 1905 by the Thompson family, Glengettie. Great tasting!
I ventured out of the kitchenette window… not too far, cause it was raining a bit. And tool these two pictures of the high in the sky, late morning moon! I was most disappointed with the outcome of them, though.
Determined to make a better effort, I took a shot of the distant horizon.
As you can see, I made a mess of that one too. I must stop wasting valuable time trying to get decent night shots. I’m just not up to it, you know. I took the Night Catheter off.
As I poured the water into the mug, a fourth Porcelain Throne Alert came through. In fact, more than that nearly came through. I took the Night Catheter off. So, with the tea left to get cold, I scurried to the wet room… Despite my best efforts, I could not get the pants down in time. And took total control of the proceedings! All I could do, well apart from swearing and cursing, was to get on with the now familiar job of cleaning things up, putting the pants in a bucket of Dettol, changing the Depends, and getting another pair of trews, giving myself a as I did.
Arrived as I was emptying the day catheter pouch. He was not in a good mood. No one had informed him of the catheter and tablet changes that had (apparently) been made; they hadn’t told me either… at least, I don’t think they did.
I was working away on the blog, and it only being fifteen minutes since I emptied the bag; I didn’t check it for another half-hour or so. I was well getting into the graphic making for the news snippets. Eventually, I thought, I’ll check the leg bag… I had a heck of a job getting the trouser legs up above the mega-full, about-to-burst-looking pouch!.
I got caught out there! Emptied it, and washed, disinfected the bucket, and arrived.
She got the Peptac served up, and I washed the serving pot while she rang the Doctors to try and find out when the catheter is coming out, and if should I take the new course of antibiotics or not. But there was no answer. Sam said she was trying again later and would let me know the result.
I got a landline call from the beautiful DVT-Warfarin nurse, Hristina. She’s coming to see me on Wednesday to take a blood sample to test the INR level.
Of course, in my minds-eye, she’s coming to see me for ulterior romantic reasons. I can dream, can’t I? Hehehe!
I went to make another brew of tea, Thompson Punjana, this time.
Took this photo through the glass of the window in the kitchenette of the gloomy morning view.
It’s still drizzling out there.
Aha, another call coming in. I am popular today.
A Call from the Falls Team Leader.
She’ll be coming to see me on Friday around noon time or thereabouts, she said.
Five minutes later, another call came in.
This was from an Amazon driver, telling me that the Dettol order was coming today.
This, after yesterday’s email telling me that it had been delayed and the new ETA is Saturday 14th? Ten minutes later, it arrived!
The lift maintenance men are making all the same noises as last week, but not so loud. I think they have gotten lower down, thus further away.
On with the Goggle… no, Google search.
Got a couple, got the Rostis in the oven, and tweaked the graphics in CorelDraw.
Nosh, time now!
Ersatz bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis, BBQ sauce, oven-baked wholemeal bread, and a strawberry jam thingamajig dessert.
Overall Taste-Rating of 7.6/10. I broke another bit off of a tooth again!
Settled to watch the TV, Heartbeat, a football match, then New Tricks. That was the plan, anyway.
I’d got a bottle of spring water, a bag of cheesy curls on the ottoman, and Heartbeat started. I stayed with it until the first set of advertisements came on.
Then drifted off to sleep...
Two hours later, chimed out, rudely awakening me from my precious sleep, and in came . Who got the medications given and checked the lights, taps and oven for safety. Then put the night pouch on the catheter.
We had a mini-chinwag session, and off he went, taking the waste bags with him for me on the way out.
I swiftly nodded off again… but it turned out to be yet another night of jumping awakes, drifting off again easily enough, only for repeated jerking awakes again. “I love sleep. My life has the tendency to fall apart when I’m awake, you know?”
Pity about yesterday’s little glitch. We could have had
a four-day period of High-Norms!
Morning snaps from the Kitchenette
Local swelling.
Bet they seem tight to our American friends?
Evening meal New potatoes cooked in the crock-pot, then
halved and sprayed with olive oil and into
the oven to crisp them off.
Mock pork sausages, done in the oven with the spuds.
Two wholemeal baps. And a pot of strawberry jam
cheesecake. Taste-Rating: 7.9/10
Regretfully, a lack of detail in this Inchie Today.
Not feeling too good, and the mystery pains
in my ribs continue to ruin my concentration.
Night , added the night catheter.
With my not taking off the diabetic socks (Fool!),
The ankles have blown up considerably.
I tried to take a photo, but Peripheral Pete and
Dizzy Dennis had me unsteady, and my attempts were not good. took
this photo for me of the leg. This was his last call of the day. And he wanted to get home.
Which I suggested was a good idea!
Took me ages to get to sleep – not due to pain, worries or
any noise. But it was hours and hours before I managed to get off.
So bad I watched two football matches before my absent
friend Sweet Morpheus arrived.
Of course, the usual jumping awake, without rhyme or reason went on all night. Humph!
Took a shot of the moon as it disappeared through a gap in the clouds, not to be seen again today. Not by me, anyway.
Coughing a bit this morning, wit the odd sneeze – by gum; it hurts the ribs when I do, either.
The mystery chest and back pains were a permanent fixture. This constant pain is wearing me down.
Computer. Arrived at 07:15ish. Sorted the fridge out and got rid of so many out-of-date products that I could not read (Cataract). Medications. Checked catheter.
As you can see here on the left, the fridge is a little on the scarce side foodwise, and Richard removed several more after taking this photo. One item was sell by 2019!
Back rib pains are persistent, to say the least.
09:15hrs: All hell broke loose!
Well, not really, but it sounded dramatic, dunnit?
The men working on the lifts. Burst out half an hour of repeated bangs, knocks and then some drilling. Got to be done.
So, now I’ve got the mystery pains full time, worse when I stretch or bend. Intermittently trying to pull the shoulder apart. Little Inchie is very sore, being drawn about each time I move with the catheter in for another five days at least; Richard said.
Struggling to see correctly, the cataracted, Glaucoma, and Saccades affected eyes and ears for hearing (that’s what they made for, you know… Hehehe)..
Esther came, said she’d help with ringing the Doctor to tell her she has sent me back to who told me to ring her for the details of the Warfarin. She said, “Ring Nottingham City Hospital Urology! ”
I’ve tried ringing the DVT clinic and was refused to put through to the Warfarin Clinic by the operator. She also said, “Ring Nottingham City Hospital Urology!”
She rang PALS. Who said, “Ring Nottingham City Hospital Urology!”
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The Noise Is Worserer Than Ever Now!
Edther coundn’t hear on the phone
06:00hrs: Woke up to find myself shuddering, flapping, and threshing about in the c1966. 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! Boy, that must have been some dream or nightmare I was having! I can’t recall a single thing about it, mind you. I soon realised that the evening catheter pouch was in need of emptying.
So, I rose precariously (balance not so good) and emptied it.
Off to the kitchen. lovely view out there this morning. But the wind, when I opened the window, made me glad to be indoors.
I abandoned plans for making a brew and went off to the wet room to get the ablutions sorted. I don’t think I got any cuts at all shaving.
However, when it came to cleaning my rotund, flabby-bellied wobbly, stomached body, I did hit problems. As expected: Cleaning around the inserted tube of the catheter protruding from Little Inchie… I don’t think I need to say this, but… the Fungal Lesion started bleeding! This necessitated the Daktacort ointmentationing to be done. After just a few oohs, argh’s and more fruitful words of agony, I got it finished. No bother to me, of course. With my gigantic pain-tolerance level. I stopped crying and moved on to other areas in need of similar treatment. and then got some of the eyes drops in roughly the area of the right eye. (But not a lot).
Then, the big challenge – Getting dressed. With the right arm still painful when I stretch or bend, the Mystery Sharp Stabbing Pains in the rib cage, right-hand side, and now at the back as well, of the torso, his usual warning signs of an imminent due, leaving me virtually one handed to get the clothes – which is not easy using a picker-upperer as the same time!
But I made a fine job of it. I put a plaster on the cut finger, laughed off banging my knee on the floor cabinet corner when I lost my balance and applied some Germolene on the bruised head.
Arrived as I was making the much-belated brew. (It went cold). Issued the medications, and he laughed when he said: “Now drop ’em!” Hehehe! Put my socks on for me. Fitted the replacement weekly Catheter pouch. We had a natter, and bade him farwell. I visited the , messy again, and almost black in colour this time – from the Karki of yesterday?
On the computer, Norton did a scan. Answered the mass of comments that had come in on WordPress… well, one.
There I was, sat, sitting at the computer and I realised that my right foot was warm and wet!
Yes, the pouch had been running the wee straight through, down my leg and into the slipper!
I dropped the trousers and got the bowl to stand my right foot in to catch the urine, which of course, I could not stop the flow! I threw the sock in as well; that’s not going to be used again! As the bowl started to fill up, I rang Meridian to ask for help. Tina said she’d “Pop up to see you (me) later! Both trouser legs had been soaked, and my socks and slippers – all of them had to be thrown away. Not having a lot of luck here, am I?
Oh, What a Calamity!
Arrived shortly after. Got it sorted for me. A different style of open-closure thingamabob fooled us, a press-through instead of a tap on the new pouch. Hah, well. Shame about the slippers, socks and trews having to be dished. But not as bad as it might have been, because some new slippers are being delivered this very day! Via Amazon.
Warfarin, DVT nurse Hristina ♥ arrived, and I explained about my being told to consult the Doctor about my leaving off the Warfarin before the Cystoscopy Procedure.
Hristina rang the surgery, explained everything, and they said they’d ring me back later on. Great!
The Sherington Park Surgery rang.
Told me I had to ring the hospital to find out about the Warfarin. This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor? Farcical doesn’t come into it!
Came. Telling him about the problem with the Warfarin and thought I’d better ring the DVT Clinic, as they control the Warfarin and arrange for the blood tests to be calculated. I got what I thought was the telephone number for the DVT clinic from the web, but it turned out to be the Queen’s Medical Switchboard.
She would not put me through and told me to ring the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital – This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor?
Ty took over the phone and got the number of the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital. He’ll ring them tomorrow, but he is too busy at the moment to do it. Ty brought in the laundry and deposited the bag in the front room for me. Checked taps. But did not watch me taking the tablets… I thought I may have kist in through the missing teeth, but we could not see any under the cupboard. Off he went, saying he’d see me later.
So, more hours lost getting nowhere! I’m so frustrated and am still unsure of what to do about the Warfarin dosages.
Finally got the Monday blog completed and made a start on this one.
I got the laundry hung up and put it away. But the stretching and bending brought back the calmed down stabbing pains again. I’m not happy with these mystery pains! U just hope they are connected to urology problems and not something new ailment-wise. I’ll give you an idea of them… ARGH!
I could do no more now. Uncomfortable with the pains, tired out. Pathetically mega-depressed and irredeemably frustrated! Sorry for myself, I suppose? Let’s face it, nothing much is going right for me, is it?
Repeated catheter bag emptying.
I’ll get something to eat, methinks. No bread, no butter. A few chips, gravy, Ah, well, that’ll do.
Took a snap from the kitchenette window, showing my spare 3-wheeler walker on the balcony.
Also, the gravel path I used to be able to get up on my walks through the tree copse. So sadly missed.
My bread and butterless meal was thoroughly enjoyed.
I forgot to photograph it, so took one of the empty bowl after the food was demolished. Hahaha!
Woken around 2125hrs, as arrived. I was still half-asleep. Richard got the night bag attached to the day bag and the pouch in the grey bowl. I’m sure we had a chat about something – likely me moaning about not being able to find out about the Warfarin leaving off… Yes, I think it might have been.
I woke to the chirpy tones of from the door chime. Immediately engaged. I thought I’d overslept, and the Carer was trying to get in… The moment I pressed my right arm on the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, nibbles-hiding, rickety, itch-producing, none-working recliner’s arm… The shooting pains started from the mystery ailment again after a day of me thinking it was ebbing… These shooting or stabbing pains come when I use the right hand (Peripheral Neuropathy?) They said it would only get worse? I could not use the walking stick with the right hand; cause pressing down on it, raising the arm or bending. This much-delayed me getting my balance and to the door. Where I unlocked it and opened it to see no signs of anyone? Baffled & bemused, I went back to the recliner room, and by Jimminee, it was only 05:00hrs!
Walking without a stick, and carrying the night catheter pouch, decided to drain and remove the night bag. The bending to unfasten and drain it was another period of sharp pains in the chest… well, around the back they were now.
It’s going to be another pain-ridden day! Concentration going to go to pot, well, it had started. And with the balance being so bad; and the start of kicking off, my spirits sank.
I took the bucket and emptied it, rinsed and anticepticated it. and put the removed bag in three waste bags. All this I did in an automated fashion? Returned the bucket for use to empty the day catheter later.
I thought, being as I am up and aboutish, I’d better get the tended to. From getting into the wet room, I noted the time on the clock. By the time I’d got the stand-up wash with feet soaking in the bowl on the floor, shaved, washed, including the area that contained poor catheterised Little Inchie, hate rear end and associated danglers and crevices; then applied both Germoloids & Germolene. Olive oiled the ear holes. Got a tiny amount of the eye drops into the right eye… but possibly 80% of it on the nose, moustache, chin and stomach. I’m not mastering putting the eye drops in, am I? The catheter had made the Fungal Lesion bleed every morning and night, so after giving Arthur Itis’s knee, I say knee, not knees, cause I couldn’t get to the right one due to the paraphernalia attached… I then tackled the lob of trying to readjust the tape holding things in place that had gotten twisted… It’s still twisted. This daily morning performance took me two hours plus to get done. Any wonder I can’t get the blog done?
I split a pair of Depend pants on the plastic closure thingamabob, and I tried another pair. But had an as I pulled them wide to get over the tubing, and it sprang back… and started the Fungal lesion bleeding again… which I’d just spent agony and time stopping it bleeding, so had to start doing the Dakacorting again!
And as for getting dressed, that was extremely painful. As the falls team showed me a year or so ago, I opened the trousers, dripped them, stood in with one leg, and used the picker-upper to raise the trews. Then on to the right leg… Hehehe!
Talk about struggle and suffering! !
Arrived as I was starting the computer. Great to see him. The lads got a dry tickly cough that’s playing him up something rotten. Later I added a bottle of cough linctus to the Asda order for tomorrow)
Richard wrote things down for me to say to the Doctor on Friday.
After this, the pain got to me, I’m ashamed to say. And I started mind-wandering. Didn’t do anything on this blog; working on yesterday’s for ages, and started on this in the late afternoon.
I kept wandering off to do other things. Emptied the cataract… no, that’s not right… Catheter day-pouch four times up to now.
Around 16:00hrs, made a concerted effort to find some cartoons to use.
Got a few and doctored them in CorelDraw to use over the next three issues of this world-famous Inchie Today blog. Followed by a massive number of people from all over the world. And they are both good people.
A photo here that I forgot to put on earlier.
Hard to believe, I know; Me forgetting something. A man of my perceptiveness, classical education, brilliant mind and… Well, never mind. .
This insult shirt was a Christmas Pressie from Sister Jane 2 years ago. Lovely and snuggly-warm it is.
Also got this picturesque under-the-circumstances shot of the morning view that I also, as well as again, forgot to put on the blog earlier. Amazingly, I’d forgotten to do the Health Checks again. So, I did them.
I then set about making a meal. Ben’s BBQ rice, a can of nearly out-of-date mechanically removed chicken 15%, beef 4%, and soya 54% hot dogs to go with the rice with added BBQ sauce. A pot of instant mash with added cheese. Flavour Rating for this one,
of 8.2/10.
Went to get the pots washed and took these three shots over a period of about ten minutes of the just-gone sunsetting view from the kitchenette window.
Meridian’s last call of the day, a Health & Safety Check, Catheter changing, and Pentac medicine giving session, was performed by my friendly caring .
Pentac was given, and then the night bag was added to the day bag for me.
I’m still bothered by the hospital’s instructions for the Cystoscopy Procedure on Friday. I’ve to contact my Doctor, physician or nurse to find out when or if to stop the Warfarin prior to the operation. (As there will be a lot of bleeding).
I’ll ask Hristina n the morning if she can help me. Not hearing on the telephone or mishearing can be a problem for me.
