I got carried away today… No, not the undertakers or men in white coats to blame. Har-har! It was a moment of freedom granted to my mind by VDD; Vascular Dementia Doreen. A cunning trick on her behalf to give me more grief, and it fooled and lured me into spending half an hour or so of heavenly pareidoliaing as the sunset faded for the day. And I took many photos of its progress, Bootiful! (Further down never the bottom of the blog.
But and however, she made me pay dearly for my moments of contentment. While viewing, photographing and admiring the beauty of Mother Nature through the kitchen window… I’d left the hot tap running. And dangerously accifauxpa-temptingly held in the evacuation that was brewing; So as not to miss the last photos as the darkness fell – But I had to rush off to the Porcelain Throne as things in the rear-end were starting of their own accord! Naturally, I failed to make it in time. Another mess to clean up! Which I did as quickly as I could to get back to the photographicalisationing. Which is when I noticed the hot tap (faucet) running. The water was cold by then. But the real pisser of them all? I missed the dawning of the darkness to picture. I do believe I swore vociferously! Ah, well, on with the diary…
Up at about 06:40hrs. I think the shock of a certain organ being extended, thus giving me great discomfort with the catheter, helped get me up and into wakefulness of sorts. I got the night pouch disconnected.
Went to wash the tube end, and the moon was still in view, so I snapped it wide and closer.
Not very well, mind.
Unbelievably, the day bag had reloaded with clear wee-wee.
I soon got it emptied.
Carer Richard arrived. Medications were given, and he reminded me of Thursday’s visit to the Mental Health Coppice Hospital. Now I must remember to ring Easy-Lift to make sure I have booked a lift. Before it is too late to do so. (Of course, I forgot to do it). Richard checked the taps and stove for me.
Ah, a bit of blood in the urine now. But it cleared up later. I caught the tube earlier, and it may have ripped the fungal lesion a bit. It hurt like hell. (I did this three more times in the afternoon and evening)
I received an email from Lisa at the Rehabilitation and Falls Service (South Locality). She is a caring lady. Asking many questions, which I probably went into too much detail in answering, now I think of it. But I answered them all. Bless her. Carer Sam arrived. Meds and safety checks were done. I was working on making mistakes, errors, misspellings and forgetting things on the blog.
Carer Kara called. Always helpful, that gal.
Teatime, I went to make a brew, and the sunset photo farce began. Here are the photos in the order they were taken; some zoomed in and some not. There are a good few; sorry if they bore you.
But I love them, even if they did cause the Porcelain Throne and tap to be left on scenarios. Hehehe!
I took a couple, one of the car park, the other of the houses, to break up the monotony for you.
Then back to the sky…
Then I had to tend to the Porcelain Throne farce.
Air Fryer tried arrived; good timing on my behalf. The frier-timer had about ten minutes left to go. Richard let me make the meal before he gave me the medications and put the night pouch onto the day bag for me. He took the waste bags with him. The chip putties were consumed with some tomato ketchup. The letdown (I usually get one of these regularly) was that the Lumix would not work for me at all. Well, it gave me a blank screen. I’ll try it again in the morning… but my hope is not high.
Good morning! Although it was not a great start to the day. There followed some great and careful help from the District Nurses. But the morning Carer did not show up. Ups and downs throughout the day. Betterer than yesterday. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
So far behind, I’ll have to just do the few that I photo’d. And miraculously found memories from the chronically badly scrawled notepad.
A blown bag of out-of-date chips burst open. I enjoyed cleaning them up.
‘Red sky in the morning – Shepherds Warning!
The pouch fills up quickly.
0845hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging.
09:15hrs: No Morning Carer Yet.
Decided to take the antibiotic tablet, just in case they do not come at all. (They didn’t) The Doctor said yesterday it is important to take them apart in equal time periods, morning &evening.
District Nurses came to replace the Catheter. I mentioned that no carer had called yet to give me the medications. I was assured that they will be coming. With it already being 11:00hrs, I was not exactly confident about this. They did a good job with the painful (to me) job of extracting and inserting the new tubing and catheter. Working well straight away. Thanked them and insisted on them taking some treats by way of a thank you. Off they went, and I returned to the slow frustrating job of working on this Thursday’s IT.
The new catheter was working well.
11:45hrs: No Morning Carer Yet. Blogging..
Carer Kara arrived later. I thought she had been up to the neck in it and was coming late from the early call, but no. She was not late. This was her mid-morning call. I explained about the antibiotics and my having taken them to keep the important timing right.
Kara gave me all the other medication that should have been issued earlier. We had a little natter as she checked the taps and the stove and took the waste bags with her as she departed.
Tea and porridge, and I watched some TV for a break from computing.
Getting darker earlier.
By gum, changing the catheter has worked as a real treat. Thanks to the two nurses. They sent two because they didn’t believe last week’s crew when they told them how tiddly Little Inchie really was. They do now!
I came over all tired and weary, just like I did the day before. I was so far behind with everything, but I had to just leave it and get my head down. I was suddenly shattered!
I was soon in the land of nod. Zzzz!
But not for long, for I felt the weight of the catheter pouch as I moved into a more -friendly position 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. I’m glad I did, cause as you can see above, the new catheter was flowing smoothly and persistently… which is good! There were only the very faintest signs of any blood, as well.
I think it was who came again. It may have been, and it could likely have been . Or, . I was so deep in sleep that I could not see much at all cause both eyes had fogged up; I couldn’t hear anything, whoever it was said, and with the ever-present ogre of…
Plaguing me in my current half-conscious state, I fear I recall but nothing of the Carer’s penultimate visit. Whoever it was. I assume I was given the medications. I did not as I remember getting out of the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner, for the whole visit. In fact, did it happen? Was I dreaming? Was someone toying with me in my ultra-sleep mode? Was I drunk – I don’t think I drank any alcohol. Unless it was in an out-of-body experience in my somniferous early evening temporary hibernation with Sweet Morpheus? Fair enough, I had been nibbling; the proof of that was the two four-pack biscuit wrappers I found crammed up my sleeve later. More of the nocturnal somnambulistic activities I seem to involuntarily enjoy?
I was struggling to stay awake throughout the gal’s visit. And was soon back in the dreamland within seconds of the Carer leaving. I was totally done for, tired, drained, and shot! To make things worse, I was aware that with all the visitors, and my lackadaisicalness, I’d not even started the blog off yet! I foolishly allowed myself to imagine I’d get up later and give it a go. It didn’t happen! I wasn’t feeling good at all.
I was not hearing, seeing, or understanding what was going on. And this is the second day of these experiences. I look back now, and a dreadful fear of not coping with Doreen and the ailments, and thus going into a home, scares the shit out of me!
Another deep, preciously removing the worries, fears and uncertainty of life. Bless Sweet Morpheus!
Shortly, and far too quickly, I was woken by the door chime. And in came the sweet Carer Sarah. Her mission? To giveth me medicationalisationings, and, and had soon for me, and set about and to the day pouch. On this rude awakening, thankfully, I was nowhere as out of it as I was on the earlier visit. I was definitely more responsive after I got over the shock of getting up too quickly. The eyes & hearing are still bad, though.
Sarah got the night bag fitted on. She emptied and washed the bucket from emptying the day catheter. Did the medicationings, and we had a little chat. She read some of the dates on the food in the fridge for me too. Bade her farewell at the door, and I locked it.
Then I decided to make a meal. Huh! One-handed, with the stick and night bag tagging along. It was a mistake. The meal was fine, but the mess I got into making it left me bruised and a mess all over the kitchen!
Eating away, enjoying the flavour, I dunked one of the cobs several times. Getting the second one, I broke it open… the greeny-yellow mould spewed out, and it fell with a splonk into the dish, tomatoes and ersatz franks! That was the end of the meal!
SATURDAY 4th FEBRUARY 2023
ANOTHER HORRENDOUSLY TIME-CONSUMING DAY.
A SPARSE PATCHY EFFORT TODAY FROM INCHIE, SORRY.
The catheter contents were locking mighty colour!
Up, Porcelain Throne, wash, and got a mug of tea and the last pot of porridge. Sob!
Care Sarah arrived, and she helped me clean up the spillage I’d just made when the blown bag of seasoned chips blew up! Hehe!. Pouch checked. Little natter.
Hours of blogging until the almost-expected weariness and mega-tiredness arrived. After that, I was drained and not good at anything. (I seem to remember my Dad telling me that?).
Burnt the stew that I was making. Left the kitchen hot tap running. When it warmed up in the PM, I left the damned hot water running in the wet room! Not a good day, and it got even worserer!
Sinking towards frustrated depression here! I went to put the photo’s on this blog, and can it be? They were not there on the SD card.
Then, for three days now, the mind went into muddled mode. Honestly, worrying this is. As I recall, I was washing the pots for the eventual meal I’d made for the second time…
Which wasn’t too bad. I found myself in the spare room, picking through my socks and seemingly sorting them? I carried on separating the short ones from the long ones for ages? It was like it wasn’t me, but a film I was watching? It has to be said Doreen Dementia is winning here! How do I explain this to the nurse next Tuesday; when she does the follow-up interview? Should I mention this or the following farce to her at all?
I actually left the junk room, and I started to make another meal!!! Until waking up on Sunday morning, everything was a blur. Ni idea who or if a Carer came, but the night catheter was comfortable, so I~ think either Sarah or Kara may have tended to it.
Due to circumstances beyond my Dementia, physical capabilities destruction, frustrating lack of control of my body and brain… Well, it sounded good to me. It’s true! Hehe! And the visit to the Doctor, which is just a blank in my mind now. Thanks to Dementia Doreen, I have never been so confused in my entire life about what going on around me as I do this morning (Friday); Time forced me to limit this Inchie Today diary. That old killer, ‘Time’, forces me to do this, Hope to be back to the old format later. Broken sleep dominated the day – as was being demanded from my body and brain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Today, mostly stolen from memory, distorted and warped by the avaricious, covetous, cruel Doreen Dementia, and hassles and complications from the
I’m only putting in what I think I know happened today. Up and in the wet room to tackle getting the ablutions done in readiness for the visit to the Doctor. Lift arranged with the Easy-Lift charity, volunteer drivers and a reasonable charge.
This session went fantastically well. Well, apart, that is, from the controlled evacuation. Not so much a torpedo, more like a nuclear submarine! Hahaha! But no bleeding with it. It felt so good to get a shave, shower etc., after so many days of inability to do so. But, this and the medicationalisationings, then dressing was timed. It took me 2hrs-25minutes! The longest ever! But at least I’m still doing it on my own. The main reasons were the catheter, extra time shaving, my not having had a shave for days, and the struggle.
I’m dreading it hewn Doreen gets worse, and I have to pay for some carer to clean me. When it comes to this stage, I don’t think I could cope with the, and perhaps , maybe even still having a catheter fitted as well, frightening! As the ever-present oink ruling the roost, I would not want to cope. Of course, it’s going to come. Not that I expect to be aware of it. So I decided to try and make the best of things until then.
Lost the plot there… off subject again. Sorry.
. Emptied the brilliant-looking urine, not a sign of any blood!
. Made a brew, and I took this morning’s view, too!
Arrived. A little vague on this visit for some reason. Maybe we talked of things that worried or concerned me, and I went into denial mode and filed memories away from my own grasp? But this happened later in the day at the Doctors and is a new trait that conceivably I can expect in the future?
Got the outer clothing on and readied to go to catch the lift. I checked the taps, heating, stove etc., and then I rechecked them. Down to the lobby. The Easy-Link minibus arrived two minutes later. And ~I was on my way to Carrington and the Sherrington Park Medical Practice. The fiver dropped me at the entrance; I thanked him and went into the surgery with my EQ telling me this would not go well. Naturally, no details, He sometimes gives a type of upset, jealousy, fear, greed or something of that nature as a guide for me. He was right!
Worryingly, a ‘Haze’ Came over me when the man spoke to me when I got into the room with him. EQ was talking gibberish to me in the background throughout the meeting? As I said, this was worrying! No idea why or what caused this, but I spent the rest of the day in this state. Utter confusion, what the hell was going on? Was all I recall thinking?
Bits and pieces of the session remain, but others are vague and mixed up in the ether of my brain. I may not have these memories in order, but they are all I came out of the hour-long meeting with, and I’m the least confident about actually having happened.
❶ I’ve got to stop taking Ibuprofen. ❷ Something about letting me have some Haemorrhoid cream. The Doctor consulted, and she said I didn’t need it? ❸ He wants me to take the BP twice a day & record it for him. ❹ I’m sure they issued a prescription electronically for some anti powders. I mentioned that I could not fetch them today as I had an Easy-Link picking me up. ‘Why can’t you?’ He asked. ‘Because they cannot digress from the arranged route, or they are not covered by their insurance, you see.’ I replied. Your Carers should fetch it then. ❺ The only other bit I recall is telling him about the problems with the catheter, but he stopped me, ‘You must talk to Urology about that. Phone them; the number is in the book and on the web!’
I departed, and got an Easy-Link lift home at a reasonable price, thinking clarity would return once I got home. It didn’t!
. I took this photo when I made a brew of Glengettie. I’ve no idea why, but it may come back to me.
My body was demanding sleep all of a sudden. I agreed and got the clothes off and the dressing gown on, and with drooping eyelids, I got into the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, and was in a deep sleep very quickly.
The carer came to give me Peptac and Paracetamol. I was soon back asleep. Zzzz!
The Night Carer, Sarah, I think it was, came to put the on to the day pouch.
But; Houston, we have a problem…
The rubber attachment on the end of the , was longer on the end of the day pouch? So the gal could not possibly even try to have . Without her fitting a new day pouch. Which is not on her remit. The gal was a little concerned about what to do. I settled her nerves and told her to leave it. Hopefully, a nurse is calling tomorrow to check the new catheter; and may change it for us.
I nodded off again. Up around 01:30hrs to make a meal. Food balancing on my belly, Wobbling on my knee, I turned on the telly, Contented gastronomically,. Again, I felt sleepy… There was no stopping me… Zzzz!
I woke at 041:00 hours, still feeling tired. Had to empty the pouch and use the . So I stayed up.
Total mayhem-problems with the . I’ll try to explain what they were chronologically. But with so much and farcical situations arising, I did little else all day. Trying to sort out getting the flow to the bag again… and even worse problems. As I hope you will read about; I need some good luck through the ether to me, so I can cope with them a little easier and not get frustrated so much. Not many memory notes on the pad. It all happened so persistently.
I woke feeling myself for the first time in months, peeing away merrily… I thought I was dreaming at first, but no!
The blood and urine mix was all over my clothes, body, and the £300 second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner.
The flow was so vicious, that the Protection Pants were soaked, and legs, socks, feet and slippers were covered in blood. I got the night catheter off first; no point in cleaning up and making more mess straight away… Huh!
Aha! I’ve found some scribbled notes – hard to read, but I can use them for updating here and there. Seems I got up at 03:00hrs. And took off the night pouch and visited the , the first of several in the morning. The first three were practically normal evacuations; the next three were sticky, phooey and messy!
Sorted out the mess of the pouches and got new Protection Pants on. I just had a smashing phone call from the Lovely Lisa-Petal ♥ and Billum 👍 in the US of A! I fear I was a little not up to much when the call came in, and I had great difficulty in hearing everything that the Sweetheart said. Damn it, we lost the signal. But it was fantastic to get the call. Lisa & Billum are my Cyber-friends and are much loved.
The needed attention all the time.
Rising, things looked okay
Removing the night bag
One of the emptying sessions
Carer Richard arrived. The bag problems were all I had to show interest in. I was a smidge depressed – but got to the stage of Dracula Depression later. The constant changes in the bag’s performance riled me. Richard got the medications done and checked in the right leg bag.
Carer Sarah was the next visitor. Got the medications sorted. Then the great cock-up with the Catheter Bag!
I emptied the blood again…
But the flow from the catheter was not getting through to the bag
The blood still flowed from little Inchie. But, nowhere near as bad. Unfortunately, my trying to get the tube further into the Little Inchie, it irritated the Fungal Lesion. Added to my having to bend and stretched so much to clean things up, the Mystery Stabbing Pain in the Ribs returned.
A damned good job. I’ve got a good supply of Depends in stock.
The Catheter pouch suddenly filled up in fifth gear time!
Boy, it was full!
Emptying the bag was difficult, with all the blood clots.
Carer Kara arrived. I told her of my problems. She wanted to know if I wanted the night bag fitting or not. I farted about and dithered on whether to. As I saw it, with little blood and urine going into the day bag again, it should be okay; with my doing the blog until the early hours, it won’t matter about missing sleep. I’ve missed that much already. (Sarcasm Detected)
Going to get this posted off and get some sleep if I can.
Well, well. Another messy day of pains, panics and failing, falling, spiritual aspirations… and a constant battle with the flaming, flipping, ruddy, scary Urine is much bloodier.
A sudden fill-up nearly caught me out!
Extra painkillers imbibed. Thanks to the urine & blood not going into the pouch, and settling in the bladder. EEEYooowOutch! Is the word.
Usual care is taken. Medicines issued. Spoke of the unbelief of us both that I am not in the hospital having the blood clotting looked at. Checked the taps and cooker and took the waste bag to the chute.
I spent hours on and off today trying to get the blood clots in the tubing through to the bag. Dizzy Dennis visited many times. The constant bending down to the tubing is the cause Also, because the urine could not get out, I suffered such pain all day long. This is not going to help at all. Fiona from the Falls Team rang. Asking if the antibiotics had arrived yet. I told her no. She or the Nurse will be calling tomorrow. I must be firm about telling her of the stomach pains, blood clots and Little Inchies agony.
Called. Soon off after a little one-way natter.
Late morning photo.
Asda Delivery arrived
Again, not a lot for the money spent!
The fridge was looking well stocked now.
Had to constantly squeeze the tubing into the catheter. The and backed-up bladder full of blood clots and urine was wearing me down.Well, the pain from them was!
Sister Jane rang and we had a natter. She went to the hospital last week, and they said she needs a cataract operation. It will be a few weeks, they told here… A few weeks? I’ve waited after eight assessment appointments over the last two years before getting the go-ahead… and am still waiting? Is this Postcode Prefferality? Could it be because they live amongst the ‘Posh’, and I amidst the ‘Rough’? Hehehe! Only joking. Jane & Pete come under the Rushcliffe Borough Council, me? Nottingham City Council. Jane is suffering from her sight badly now. Fingers crossed that she can get it done soon. Me? As usual, I’ll just wait. Har-Har!
This new day pouch is just not getting its due supply of urine. It just stays in the bladder infecting everything else in there, and then occasionally, not very often, it fills up with a rush when I can get the blood clots through. Still, it’s bloodier, so redder, and gives me pretty patterns to look at.
A new-to-me (I think) Carer arrived tonight for the big medicationalisationing. After the gal departed, I started to make a mug of tea and had to limp smartly to the Porcelain Throne. By gum, this session was different! For the first time in many weeks, Trotsky Terence had surrendered his command of the evacuations over to Constipation Conrad! Hard as the torpedoes were, there was no bleeding at all from the rear end.
I was chuffed with this nice change. Got back to the computer and spent some time urging the blood clots through the catheter. Thought I’d make a brew of tea and found… I’d left the hot tap (faucet) running! Oh, I do annoy myself at times!
An hour later, the red blood in the urine was turning back to the brown colour it has been for the last four days.
Caught a photo of the end of the sunset... Then started to make the meal of the day.
Ersatz bacon, spuds with some BBQ sauce, and tomatoes. Flavour rating 803/10!
Arrived for the final call of the say, well, night. Over the last hour since emptying the Day Catheter bag, not a drop of liquid had gotten through to the pouch? Richard got the night bag attached, and very slowly, the flow began. More an occasional drip here and there. Back to the brown this time. Still had to shake the extra tubing and squeeze the thick, clotted blood through at times. The stomach/bladder was aching again.
I’m hoping that a supply of a new , or even a week’s supply, will arrive today. Single-use only the night catheters, the day ones for seven days, I think. But it’s 17:15 hours already. Maybe one or some has gone to the Meridian office and will be brought by a night carer to fit for me? My fingers are crossed on that!
A prayer to get the last week’s two bags of laundry done as well. A talk with Mr G about the possibility of getting the bleeding and pain stopped from . My fingers are crossed on that one as well!
The immediate concern is over my Kryptonite – Sleep! Two hours was all I got last night – and no chance of catching up on it presented itself today. Dependent on whether or not I can get a or not is vital! If perchance, one doesn’t arrive (Albeit the chances are it will), I’m going to be in dire straits, up the creek without a paddle, up a gum tree, in the soup, harassed, a bag of nerves, and a very tired & frustrated old chap!
And to think, when I met the doctor yesterday to copy for the DNR option, she asked if I’d sooner die at home or in a hospital? If she knew about the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchcock; to curse with bad luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. worry and confuse me; she’d not have asked me in the first place. Hehehe!
Anyroad, another getting nothing done day here in Del Trotter Towers flats. Fair enough, there was the usual bleeding, confusionalitis, frustrations and possibly an increase in moments of self-loathing. But I’m too tired to go into them at this moment. Here is the pathetic Inchie Today Diary.
No idea why I took these two?
Ah, fancy that… The Famously Crap Internet is down…
Not weeing much?
20:20hrs now. Tired. I’ve put a meal in the heated oven. Worried about getting a Hopefully, it will come. And some really needed catch-up sleep.
Back later. Likely in the morning. Unless I have to stay awake… Humph!
Late Morning Update
Arrived, unfortunately, without any of the bags, so another sleep-depriving night to get through. Still, as it happened, it worked out well tonight. (It was a jumping awake every few minutes session and each time I checked on the . I emptied it only three times.)
Got the medications sorted, and we had a little laugh and nattering session. Shame about the lack of a night bag, though. But it’s not Richard’s fault. He did his best. As I mentioned above, it worked out okay as it happens. I think the storage in the bladder caused the bleeding in the urine again. I reheated the meal and made it crusty line top. Mmm!
♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫
A Spiffing ready-made meal. Potatoes, lardons, with BBQ sauces and some Milk Roll bread. I dropped the flipping pot of soya lemon yoghourt, and it landed in the waste bin and burst open. I just covered it with kitchen towels. Fell in the right place?
Got the dishes washed, and I took this picture of the evening view.Not a good one, but still.
Not A Good Day In short (Especially the Hobble and the visit to the Doctor).
Photo inspired, memory not good. Being so late in getting the blog done and all that, after having lost a version I’m sure I’d written, and I had to start again after somehow deleting everything?
Bit of blood in the overnight Catheter pouch.
Caught a seagull launching off of a lamplight.
Got the ablutions done. Messy and painfully. Readied things needed into the walker-trolley.
Arrived. He was tired out and frustrated with the being different each me they got a fresh supply. Got the meds sorted, and we had a little nattering session. Well, me mostly… Hehehe!
Set off to the bus stop…
Down in the elevator, along the link passage through. Winwood, then Winchester Courts, and out to the bus stop. Not so cold this morning, thankfully. Had a chinwag with a lady from Winchester Court. Got off at the bottom of the hill.
Started what turned out to be a bad idea. Walking up the hill on Mansfield Road and down into Carrington and the Sherrington Park Medical Park surgery.
Every step was agony. Due to the darned having dropped down the leg, the inserted tube was pulling on poor. . I could feel it bleeding, and it was so sore and stinging.
I eventually got over the crest of the hill. I had to stop many times to give me a breather from the pain.
Within 10 seconds of my arrival at the surgery, Doctor Vindla came to fetch me into the consulting room. (Just got there in time, but it must have taken me a full hour or more to hobble to get there) I could hardly get into the room. Then the farce began… I thought she needed to see me urgently, as the receptionist told me, to give me some details from the Urology at the City Hospital; about the recent stay and check-up results I had with them. But No!I think she reckons I’m about to croak out… Cause all she wanted was for me to tick the two options on a letter she gave me, telling me to take it and read it, think about it, make my choices and return it to her. And what was it for? I’ll tell you the two options I had to choose from…
Would you like to go on the DO NOT RESUSCITATE list? I ticked it. And the next one was different… Where would you like to die; Hospital or At Home? I ticked The Hospital. Well, that cheered me up! I then told her of the . She asked if I had had any falls or trips lately? I smiled underneath my face mask and replied: That’s one question that shouldn’t need answering – Yes! “Ah, it’s probably from bruised ribs, then!” This prompted me to ask why the Paracetamol were not delivered with the last prescriptions. Cause I have none left now, just when I really need them. No reply! Then I mentioned the having smaller and smaller bags attached each time they are replaced? And are causing “See the District Nurse about that!” Thank you. And the blood in the Urine? “I’ll let the know that” Thank you. May I use the toilet to empty my full ? “Yes, see you later!” Cheerio, thank you!
I was a smidgeon nonplussed after this meeting. did what I wrote about above really happen? Or was interfering with my memory again?
Either way, I was forced to go down the road to the Lidl store to see if they sold Paracetamol or Ibuprofen. The painful walking had not eased off. Then again, nothing’s was done about it – What I expected, I don’t know.
. . After a hobble around inside the store, I came out with some bits and pieces but no Paracetamol. Milk, potatoes, a packet of biscuits, cashew nuts, and some Ibuprofen. Caught a bus to Sherwood. Dropped off and hobbled over the road to the bus stop to catch the number 40 bus up to the flats… I was about 100 yards or so away, and it arrived – but I could not move fast enough to get there in time. Which proved very costly to me… By having half an hour to kill until the next bus arrived, I went into the Wilko store. And for once, they had a decent choice of items on the shelves. So, naturally, for me, I bought a few of each item while they had them in stock. I came out of there £26 pound lighter in my pocket!
Lavender Dettol, and Neutrodol fresh air spray on offer, caught my eye. Along with Paracetomal, Ibuprofen Extra Strong, and cloth-wash freshener at three for whatever it was, on offer again! (To go in the wee-wee bucket when emptying the Pouches) Fool! Oh, and fresh air spray for fabrics, two for £3.99. Tsk!
Up to the bus stop. Caught the bus. No one to gossip to. At the flats…
Went into Winchester Court and through the link passage into Winwood Court. Not many folks around?
Through to Woodthorpe Court, where the recharging and storage for the disabled scooters are, and to the lifts. (In the distance)
Up to the flat… Rang Meridian Care, To let them know I was back in situ. And soon found that the… The tiny pouch