All night long, wee-weeing, most often with less than a minute in between! Every one painful, but barely a trickle came out: Compared to yesterday evening and this morning, were poles apart, directly opposed to each other! At least I did have a good morning on Monday, and I got some sleep in. It was the rest of the day’s events that went all pear-shaped on me.
I gave up the early hours of trying to get to sleep. There were a few occasions when, by the time that I got back in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, grungy, pukin gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, grungy, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 moth-eaten, pukingly-beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, I had to get up again for another 2 fluid ounces worth of weeing! If that much! It was driving me crazy. The computer stood there, tempting me to get on it. But the way I felt, there was no way I could concentrate.
Then the feeling of cold and shivering-like sensations came over me. I don’t think I was sweating; it felt more like some Herbert walking over my grave? Then as I was typing this in the morning, well, late afternoon, I realised I must have gone on about this dilemma when doing the updating of the Tuesday blog. So decided that repetition is not a good idea. It may result in a reduced the huge, vast number of followers and readers of my blog. And they are both such nice people.
Again, the only things I can recall are what was written in the memory notepad. So it’s unlikely to be one of my more detailed dairies, sorry. Although some bits are clearish in the grey cells. Esther’s visit to do the laundry and overcharge me again. The Evening Carer, Carolynne, my, leaving two taps running! And my burning the meal. But at least up to now, the wee-weeings were a lot less than yesterday and this morning. Still, next to nothing coming out, mind you.
One thing that didn’t change, was my feeling so cold all day. Brrr!
I took the extra clothing off and replaced it with other heavy-duty gear. Started composing the ode to last night’s farce. I took me hours & hours. Most of it was spent correcting errors.
Took these views from the kitchenette window. One, the bottom was of the car park on Chestnut Way, in the block of flats.
Where I’m feeling so sorry for missen. No help
with sorting out things I cannot read from the Coppice Hospital. Now this new bug or whatever it is.
I did eventually get the Ode done. But now I don’t think it is any good.
Depressed again… but nothing like on Tuesday.
It must be Sods Law: Just when I needed the calmingness and help of my friend and, ; He gets put onto another site. He helps by going the extra mile, which is comforting, and much-appreciated help. Especially now that Doreen Dementia is getting at me more and more. I feel a bit cheated in a way. All self-pity I think. You could not believe the things I could no longer do for myself. not to mention , , I’d better not forget, , and the potentially lethal killer; . they can have me over in a flash if I bang them in a . Even the can cause problems when I start to panic, rushing back inside to check if the lights, taps or the stove has been left on. Ah, that reminds me! This very day, I left two hot water taps running. Burnt the shoulder and left the potato in the crockpot for eight hours. I’m not diving up[ on this, its that late in the morning again, I’ll do a rescue job on them -microwave, for breakfast.
The morning carer failed to issue the Omeprazoles. (Anne Gyna) Not hod fault, it was mine. I was nattering away giving him my sob story from yesterday. While he was prepping of the medications. I’d usually hold back on the nattering until the meds are sorted. But not this morning. I was so uptight with bladder trouble and no sleep for two nights.
Why am I up now? It’s nearly 02:00hrs already
I’ll stop now and try to rescue the food. Thankfully, I lost two hours of whatever I did.
The evening Carer arrived. Checked the taps for me; not many of them do that.
Then, the ankle ulcer started to smart a bit. But it didn’t look inflamed? Then everything stopped again.
EVERY TWO MINUTES, WEE-WEES RETURNED AND STAYED ALL NIGHT UNTIL AROUND 09:00HRS IN THE MORNING. THEY THEN GOT WORSE!!! HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS FOUND ON THE FILE. Mud Slide in Car Park. Long story, but I’m. struggling to type. Three days without sleep now.. Not feeling good. the wee-weeing continues. I pass one; they are all so painful… And two minutes later need another. Took an extra Furosemide, hoping it. may help me to pass.
No Help for Cataract or Mental Hospital Appointments Came
THAT’S MY LOT! – SO TIRED! ONE POORLY IN-PAIN PEASANT HERE
0450hrs: I stirred back into fabricated life. And it was Thought-Stormless! This has not been known for months now. All seemed calm in the bonce, too! Was she on holiday? And where was worry guts, ? Even was not the slightest bit interested in me! was the only ailment that was giving me trouble. As for even , she was noticeable by her absence! I was almost in a laid-back mode… I think. Not been like this for many years. What was going on? Had I been drugged or something?
I almost casually escaped the clutches of the c1968, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner, and moved over to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), suffering slightly as rushed to avoid any accidents with of PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) trying to start of its own accord. Then had t wait for ages for the PMAD (Post-Micturition-After Dribbling) to stop! Yet I seemed to take this all in my stride. Off to the kitchen to make a brew… Still no Glengettie available, but some should be coming today from Amazon.
I leant out of the kitchen window to take these two pictures. The sky, and then the Chestnut Way car park below.
While I was mashing the mug of Thompson’s Signature tea, the oddest thing happened: I felt the micro-shuddering in the right leg, and I was convinced that there was about to be a Right-Leg-Dance routine kick-off. But no! Instead, burst into life, which ensured that the freshly made mug of tea was knocked over. I had the right mess to clean up! As I was getting down to do so, an burst forth, which had me down on one knee! During this, I banged the top of my head on edge of the kitchen top and knocked the papule! How it didn’t come off I don’t know, but I was glad it didn’t…
Then noticed I’d left the hot tap running in the sink again, and the water was stone-cold! Yet, still, I remained cool and calm. So, no hot water to use for the ablutions for a long time yet. So, I got some water in the large saucepan and put it on a low light. Putting the freshly-filled saucepan back on the stove, and had another, albeit only for a few seconds this time, of the routines. During this, I split some water on the stove, me and the floor!I was beginning to get a smidgeon uptight now! Well, can you blame me? I made another brew of Thompson.s Punjana tea. While it was brewing, I got an itch around the papule on my head. Removed the hat and went to scratch it…
ADVICE: In the event you get an itch on a papule – do not scratch or pick at it. Especially if you have an old dilapidated wristwatch on that has a split buckle with sharp bits sticking out. Just thought I’d mention it, like.
I made up some waste bags, put them near the door, and got the computer on. Checked the Emails, and I’d got this come in from Amazon.Confirmation that the Glengettie teabags are arriving today. Oh, good! I was not too keen on the ‘Arriving today by 10 PM’ bit. But still, they are worth the wait. It’s just the thought of my managing to stay up that long that worries me. Still, they may come earlier than that! Optimism now, what next? Hahaha!
I got on with updating the Wednesday blog. I started reasonably well, but as time went by, I worked my way back into making errors, mistakes, and wrong corrections. Plus, a few didn’t help me much.
I was working my back to things being normal (Farcical, with a hint of brain-deadisms), I think?
After about three hours, I’d got the blog finalised and posted to WordPress. Things seem to be changing from my waking up in almost high spirits and sinking back to the usual quotidian ways.
As I was Pinteresting some photographs… and…
Thanks to Smoke & mirrors: (someone who draws attention away from often embarrassing or unpleasant figures or issues) man Mr Fries’s inability, even when getting paid a $23.7M salary, to get an internet service to work, I went to take some photographs. Even more determined this time to get some zoomed-in photos of the moon that showed something of the moon’s surface. Another failure! As anticipated and expected.
Can I blame the hazy morning sky? Hehehe! No? Fair enough!
Played from the door chime. Of course, when it went off, I suddenly realised I had not unlocked the door yet.
I hastened to the door and unlocked it. The picture on ‘s face said it all. “There’s no hope for him!” Hehehe! Richard got the medications sorted out. He’d heard about my farce at the hospital yesterday. We had a laugh about it, actually. Then he went through the paperwork they had sent me home with and identified the things he thought I ought to remember, and wrote them down on the whiteboard for me. He took the waste bags with him on the way out. And made for his bed, I hope he can get some R&R along with it. A grand lad.
I got a landline call; I think she was saying that I needed to make an appointment for an ECG before they could refer me to someone for help with dealing with getting me help with . I couldn’t understand why, but apparently, they are not too happy with the blood test results from last week? Oh!
Then we made an appointment for Wednesday 16th November at 14:30hrs.
Thanks to Fries, the internet was still not back on. So, I used the time to try and call Deana to arrange lifts for Wednesday the 16th to the doctor, and Thursday at 10:00hrs to Bulwell, returning at 12:00hrs. I couldn’t get her, though. I put these in the calendar and on the Whiteboard.
I got on the now working again internet, and then made a start on this blog. It was slow-going, no doubt about that.
Tried to get through to Deana once more, but no luck.
I was deep into pressing on with this blog, and sounded, and in came Esther. That was the end of any concentrating. Hehe! But Esther, despite talking to me from the other rooms, got the laundry down into the machine and returned. She rang for me to arrange the two lifts I needed. Thank heavens she came! That gave me some ease of mind, not having to worry about them. And they could do both, thankfully for me. Phew!
I managed to do some more work on this blog for an hour or two. Rang, and in walked Carer Charly. She was in a rush and a half. Got the medications sorted, but we could not find the Peptac bottle. I found one in the prescriptions drawer. Maybe we used the last of the other bottle, but I can’t remember. still, we have enough. I’m just annoyed that I can’t remember about it.
I checked on the potatoes in the oven, finding I had not increased the heat sufficiently earlier on. Tsk!. I took this picture from the kitchen window while checking on the nosh. It came out a lot lighter than what it was but shows the varying colour of the skies. Greys and blues, ah, Mother Nature!
Amber and the High-Norm rating again! No idea how they work these things out, but I’ve only got one (SYS) in the green, same as yesterday (Temp) – but the results were so much lower and betterer! Beats me, but I like it!
I got the food served up, got down in the£300, used, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966 built, discomfiting, alarmingly Kharki-beige coloured, crumb containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. Meal on my knee and turned on the TV. That was a waste of time. All those channels and nothing worth watching were on.
So I thought I’d get the radio on and started searching for the headphones. After several minutes of failure (I get used to these, you know), my memory kicked in, and I remember breaking the headphones when I sat on them last month! Hey-Ho!
Back to the now not-so-hot meal. believe it or not, than what yesterday’s nosh did! A simple meal for a simple-minded, dithering old bald, confused senior citizen. Just baked potatoes with vegan butter and sea salt. The bread thins had gone really dry, so they were not eaten. The BBQ sauce was dipped into by both the sausages and potatoes. The tiny pot of Soya Lemon Yoghourt rounded off the meal. A Flavour-Rating of 8/10 granted, even if it was a little cold.
I washed the pots, and I resettled 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, in search of Sweet Morpheus. And I was soon of into a dream filled (can’t remember what about) sleep for about an hour…
I woke up in so much pain it took my breath away at first. was rampant in both calves. I repeatedly got up and tried to hobble about, to try to free the tightness. I failed, of course! Every time, it eased a little, back in the recliner, feet up, and within minutes it started again. Several times I tried the Phorpain gel massaging. I even took some Paracetamol; that didn’t help either. Then a Codeine… I woke in agony that often it was getting to me. I was at my wit’s end with it.
I was taking what must have been for the tenth time, a hobble and stretching exercise, massaging, more pain gel, another Codeine 30g… I know I was taking too many, but the unbearably of the this morning forced me to try anything at the time.
I gave myself a as I utilised the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket). That meant the positive end of any further aspirations, ideas or hopes of sleeping again! Not that I had more than an hour at most!
Letters, emails, comments and text messages, with any help that can be offered, on any ways to prevent this from happening again, or ease the pain at least, would be much appreciated. Thank you!
A proper short one this time, sorry. But, it took me that long to get the. Monday blog updated (15:00hrs) & I must rush cause I’m out tomorrow for the Covid booster. TTFN.
Up at 03:30hrs: Worked on yesterday’s ode until 05:30hrs. Then off to the Porcelain Throne. Easier today! I set the alarm off by accident in the dressing stage, didn’t know I’d done it, but I thought I heard a voice in the flat. Had a look around and saw the alarm box flashing. Apologised.
Richard arrived, Yawningly – he was so tired. But, we managed a little natter and laugh, even a moan about things to each other. He was reluctant to take the freebies in thanks, but I sulked, and he took them. Hehe!
Was noisy again.
I literally got lost in everything I tried to do today.
Got a call from a woman. The only words I caught were Virgin Media?
I got some potatoes on with the black bean sauce; I hope it works out alright.
In the amber, nearly the green!
CARE IS DUE SOON MUST GET SOME MOSH SORTED
Just getting the meal served up, and Kylie arrived.
She helped me prep the meal. Then got the medications given. Had a laugh and natter, which was nice. Took the bags with her as she left.
Around about 07:30hrs, chiming out woke me up in a somewhat confused state… Nay, a perplexed state! Although this was obviously not as bad as that was! Not since the stroke day have I felt worse on waking up. It took me a while to work out just what was happening. Was I dreaming again? Had I lost the evening to whiles? I then realised it was morning and not evening. (I’m quick sometimes, you know!) I worked out that whoever the Carer was had not come in – so I had not unlocked the door. (After a minute or so of Sherlockian investigating) The rude awakening and the confused mind left me in a fantod state of mind. I struggled as fast as I could to get the door unlocked. Ad I hope hoped, it was who was there. Once I began to tell him of what I’m not sure: presumably of last night’s farce when I was sure it was morning. The why and how I believed it was in the was evening and not morning now… Everything I was saying was confusing, even to me. I think I was also forgetting what I was saying all the time. So, no reports on Richards’s visit to give you many details about it. Not that I felt in the slightest bit unwell or poorly, mind you. Just in a bemused, perplexed, mind-going-around-in-circles, sort of in a chaotic, jumbled world of its own, with me chasing after it! However, to whatever happened as I was walking Richard to the door. Life, understanding and acknowledgement of the things around me returned began to return to me. No recollection of taking the medications, but I just know that I was waffling on to poor Richard and losing what I was saying seconds later. But by then, I’d be on another subject, and I wanted to keep on that before I lost track of that topic. I think… I hope to formulate a message to tell the Doctor tomorrow when she rings me. That is understandable to her. Although it’s not so to me, I must tell her what happened? Aha! I’ve just found the memory note, and it mentions Carer Richard. (Not a lot on the pad, though; proof that my concentration is still insufficient!). As best I can decipher the notes, it says: “Richard… I talked gibberish. Vague ___?___. But report? Seeing Richard off.” That’s all? This was written about 9½hrs ago, so not surprising that I can’t work out the missing or unreadable wordings for the life of me. Humph!
Off to the kitchen to make a brew of Co-op 99 tea. Then, just after adding the water, The was needed. I sat there, once again, waiting for the evacuation to begin. I even sang, Begin the Begin to myself. Artie Shaw’s 1939 version, of course. Counted the cracks in the ceiling and wet room wall. I may have nodded off for a while as well. When the torpedo started its slow, grindingly painful journey to freedom, it woke me up with a shog and captured my full attention! The relief was phenomenal! It must have been a two-minute spell while the escaping product travelled out before it hit the water. bled only the tiniest amount, but they stung like the devil! Germoloid ointment came to the rescue! Olive oiled the ears. And then I touched up knee with a good dose and rubbed in plenty of the Phorpain Gel. Hobbled back to the kitchenette. To the now stone-cold mug of 99 tea! . Well, I made another, keeping all calm, as id my want and very nature. As I poured the water into the mug, I espied something floating on top? Obviously, the kettle needed descaling. No Sherlockian Investigations were required here.
I decided I’d do it straight away, as I knew where the last packet of descaling powder was, in the old cutlery drawer! But no! It wasn’t in there! The search to find the packet must have taken me at least an hour! It had fallen down the back of the drawer into the cupboard below. Now I was all the more determined, resolved to get the kettle de-furred! I got the spy-glass to read and rewrote the instruction on some paper, nice and large, so I could not get them wrong. Then got them wrong! I think. I couldn’t check because I’d unthinkingly torn up the carton the sachet came after I’d added it to the kettle! I thought it said Leave it in hot water in the kettle for ten minutes. Which I did, and I timed it to spot on. Rinsed was advised, boiled again and emptied.
Kicked off and got a reply post-haste. I’ve got this returning his bangs to a tee using the Wooden Walter stick! He did many knockings late on, but they were barely discernable. Thanks, Herbert!
I got an email from Asda telling me there were some lines (6) unavailable, and some substitutes had been made. A link to amend the order was pressed. I proceeded to get myself into the right mess. I could not find a way to cancel the substitutions.I’m not sure what I did wrong, but when I clicked amend the order, I’d spent £15 more than the original order was! ! and joined forces in a sudden pain attack. !
When I made the mug of Thompson’s Punjana tea, I thought I could see things floating about in the kettle? Oh, .
Jodie arrived to see me. We had a laugh and a natter about things. She reminded me about the spoons to get for the Pentax. And watched while I put it on the Calendar. Then asked me if I had booked an EasyLink lift for the Tuesday visit to the chemist. Thanks to , I had no idea whether I had or not. Jodie offered to ring Deana in the morning to confirm for me. ♥ I gave her the last ‘Smoked’ Coke from the fridge, an extra one; thanks for helping me.
Carried on with blogging while having ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV. You’ll never believe it, but:
Then, the chips were in the oven with the smoked BBQ rice and the peas left in the saucepan. I’m feeling hungry for the first time in a while this Monday night. Oh… I found this photo on the SD card. Not the foggiest idea about it?
Got the belated checks done.
At last, I got some late-evening fodder cooked. It went down a treat! I ate it slowly, savouring every fork and spoonful! I masticated each one more than usual… by gum, this was one of the best meals I’d done for myself for ages!
A genuinely worthy, tasty meal that deserved a Flavour-Rating of 9.4/10! As you can see here in the photo of the finished meal, all that was left was a few grains of rice. Had let me see them with the naked eye, I’d have gobbled them up as well!
Washed, changed and settled in search of some rest and peace in the arms of . But, with and both kicking off the moment I settled, never stood a chance!
As I lay there for hours, unable to sleep, my IQ warned me, ‘There’s worse to come tomorrow!’
As Bob Monkhouse used to say in the ‘Golden Shot’ – up a bit!
. Taken from the balcony.
Prepping Josie’s nosh.
Carer Rihanna called.♥.
Hours updating blog. Kept nipping to check on Josie’s bean chillies cooking in the kitchenette.
Final tasting and titivating session. I think I made the potato cubes too big. They were not cooked at the same time as the other ingredients. So I had to give them a further fifteen minutes. Then stirred, tested and added the soya bacon bits to marinate and to give it a flavour as Josie likes. I forgot to take a photo of the meal. Cragknangles!
Josie pointed out that I was three minutes late in delivering the meal. With a smile on her face! Hehehe! Then she gave me three bananas in thanks for the meal. I thanked her. The fruit was a bit battered about and bruised inside. No problem with that; I bet a pound to a penny she bought them days ago and either tried to give them to me when I was out at the chemist or diabetes course, and she forgot all about them! I have great sympathy with my fellow / fellowesses who suffer from Dementia. Memory-Blanks, and Mind-Confusions. That’s me
all over. Hehe! Lovely of Josie to try. ♥
Late afternoon, as I was making a mug of Glengettie tea, I spotted actually heard a dog that was barking; 12-floors down, outside, and through the open kitchen window. I had a look down in the bottom field. The couple’s little black dog caught my attention. She or he was barking madly, but with glee, as they threw, and the tail-wagging puppy was tireless in chasing and returning the ball. The tiny dog got partly lost in the long grass in the picture.
Rihanna arrived. Sorted the medications, and we had a little natter & laugh. ♥
.. SETTLED DOWN TO EAT MY NOSH!
I’d just taken this photo and sat down with the tray on my knee to tuck into it and chimed out. Aha, my favourite gal in the block had been. She’s left a bag of home-grown tomatoes for me on the floor outside the door; Bless Her Cotton Socks! ♥ Believe me, these are the best-tasting tomatoes I’ve ever had! I swiftly slices some up and added them to my plate! Back down in the c1968 recliner, and the landline rang. It was Jenny saying these gorgeous tomatoes were definitely the last of the season. I thanked her profusely. How kind of her! I’d got bits for her and Frank and Nora, I must take them to her tomorrow. Just look at this photo of fruits I took later. Superb flavour! Bootiful! It mattered not that the meal had gone cold while I was faffing about. Just having these tomatoes on the plate was enough for me to give it an 8.2/10 Taste-Rating!
. I put the tray on the Carers table, and I drifted off into what I thought had been hours of deep sleep. But, no! Shone the torch on the clock and went into semi mode! It was 07:45hrs! (Well, I thought it was at the time). The Carer is overdue… I’ve not had a wash-up… alright if it’s going to be Richard, but he is not forced to be the one to come… Then I got up and went to do the washing up of the pots and get the kettle on. Taking these photographs of what I foolishly thought were early morning views…
The first one came out really well, selecting the Night View Mode on the Lumix Camera, for all of these efforts. I was gratified with the first try
In the second and third pictures that were taken. How can I say this? Erm… Were they both rubbish? Mind you, as modern art changes, modern photography might?
Maybe a pile of bricks buying Tate Gallery might show an interest in these failures? What do you think I could charge them? 50p each; Too much?
In this mode of shooting, I only needed to keep the Lumix dead-still for three-seconds. As you can see, if either or Decide to have a go; there’s no chance of a decent photo being produced! Even if starts, she can shake the whole torso with her blasts, stabs and pains. However, the last try went a little better.
The penny dropped then. It was not morning at all. And I worked out that I’d only been asleep for about two hours at the most; It was still evening! My already confused mind almost burst out of the skull – well, it felt like it was trying to! I felt such a fool!
So, I got on with updating this blog. 23:00hrs; I thought I’d get the day late, shave, get the teggies done, medicationalisationings and stand-up wash. It’s too late to use the shower. I’ll be back in a bit if I don’t fall asleep shaving. Tsk!
Monday Morning Updating: Well, the stand-up wash went fairly well. No gums bleeding. No teeth breaking. Nor , or the involuntary dance routines, , , either. So the was just the one. And the Went along; not too bad at all.
I got the night attire adorned and clambered into the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, grungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, in search and hopes of finding and joining . But No! So, I got a Sherlock Holmes TV DVD on and watched two episodes without any danger of my falling asleep. I think I was onto the third when I drifted off. Better late than never!
Inchcock would like to start this blog with one of his more heartwarming efforts, Ode-wise. Sentimental, uplifting, exhilarating style of Odeing. It’s part of his self-declared “I’m fed up with hearing myself moan” policy. Thank you!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Wednesday 3rd August 2020
I spent five hours head down in the recliner last night. If I got about three hours of sleep, I was lucky. One of the worst “Shoot awake & nod-off again” nights ever. At 07:45hrs, A real shaking of a wakeup, with the need for a wee-wee, forced me to scramble free of the c1966 recliner and over to the overnight bucket. I failed to get Little Inchie out in time! Gragnangles! Off to the wet room. I was in a bit of a state, so decided to get another stand-up wash and a change of PP’s naturally. I gave the shower a go, just to see if might work, but there was no noise from the drain-forcer, and the red light came on, so I quickly turned it off at the power again. A got a stand-up washing of the affected areas. New pants on, and back out to the kitchenette to get the kettle on.
Carried out. With another set of fantastic results to savour.
SYS a phenomenal 126!
DIA at 69
Body temperature 33°f
Couldn’t ask for a better set of figures. Why, I’m down to near normal and in the green, to boot!
07:45hrs: Richard arrived, and he seemed in a slightly perkier mood today at first. But when he sat down, the yawning began again. After interrogating him, Hehehe! I discovered he’s had a bad night again.
He showed me the monitor the Diabetes clinic had fitted on his arm. He scans it twice a day, and the results go straight through to the hospital. True monitoring and a very natty system. Glad he’s got it, so a professional eye can keep tabs on his sugar level.
Not much time for nattering this morning, although he didn’t rush me at all. His body language and my EQ told me he wanted to get away early, and that’s fair enough for me. Hobbled him to the door, where he picked up the waste bags. Made sure that he’d got the bag of treats and wished him some sleep as we parted.
I spent hours on getting this blog template started, but it was hard work; the eyes are not so good, and it was a medley of mistakes, errors, correcting, and then finding the corrections were wrong as well! Time flew by, and I had so many breaks for wee-wees that I thought they would never stop! They didn’t, but did slow down a little after 14:00hrs!
My toffee-nosed, self-important, nyaff, noisy neighbour above kicked off with venom. And continued on and off, firth next five hours. Still, it’s nice to know he’s still alive.
The rumbling innards suddenly got more volatile, with involuntary emissions of wind from the hind quarters. And off on a hobble to the Porcelain Throne. One of the oddest visits in a long time. I got sat down on the Throne, and much wind escaped, but nothing else. I waited patiently, having a go at the crossword; for some reason, I could read the clues with less difficulty than usual. There’ll be a reason for that. If you find it, can you let me know, please?
Anyway, I gave up. got the pants and trews back on and was opening the wet room door, and winds started coming again, accompanied by the rumbling and grumbling innards. Back onto the Throne… for a repeat performance. seems likely that Constipation Konrad is in charge of the bowels, then? Another surrender, with that feeling that something has to, or will erupt at any time now. Most uncomfortable!
As I got into the hallway, with perfect timing, I was only two feet away from the panel: and the intercom rang forth! Yes, YES, it was the plumber arriving to investigate the shower!!!
He was a nice, patient chap. Listened s I explained at I was doing when the alarm went off, and he investigated for me. Five minutes later, he’s got the shower working again. And took the time to tell what had gone wrong with it. A filter had been blocked, and he’s changed it, well cleaned it up, good as new. Explained to me that if a lot of people use the showers at the same time, especially in the higher flats, sometimes the pressure changes. If this happens again, turn it off, and try again in a few minutes. I thanked him and insisted he take a cold drink from the fridge in thanks. Grrreat!
Put some potato cubes in the oven and made an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow morning. Then got the potatoes in the oven. I’m just having the spuds with some of Jenny’s donated tomatoes, I think. After eating this, maybe I can get some catching-up sleep. But, will I be able to?
Found this photo in the morning. Not the foggiest memory of making it or eating it… But when I saw this, a taste of the veggie burgers came into my mouth.
I think I liked it. Haha!.
Memory regained: When woke me up when she arrived. Obviously, I must have fallen asleep. I was so drowsy after she stirred me that maybe I’d just got off to sleep? It took me awhile to get things together? I remember getting her a cold drink from the fridge and Valerie leaving, then it was head down again… That was it until 00:20hrs when I woke in need of a wee-wee…
The highlight of the day. At long last, after several months, I took a risky chance and made some cheesy baked potatoes! I’d missed these for so long, I risked it. The last two days, the nerve-end failures had much fewer. Glad I did now, and I got away with it! Aware of the dangers that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete may impose on me…
Awakening, after the fifth horrible nights’ sleep, the urge for a mug of Glengettie was irresistible. I hobbled into the kitchenette with Metal Mickey and got the kettle on; the dim view had beauty to it, so I fetched the ‘on-its-last-legs’ Canon camera. Took a shot…
I’m lucky to have such a panoramic view,
Most times, the outcoming photo will do,
Today the Peripheral Neuropathy was on cue,
I got a decent photo, of the sky, with a purple-blue hue,
I was feeling in reasonably good knick, too!
Made the tea, good enough for me,
Later, the ablutions, well I needed a pee,
Little Inchies fungal lesion was bleeding free…
So I did the ablutioning, shaving carefully…
Amount if cuts none, although tiny nicks, three,
Nasal spray, eye drops, cleaned the lesion… yucky!
Medicated, dressed, it was a bit of a malarkey…
Finished the jobs, sanitarily…
Along came the Iceland delivery!
I soon got them in and into the kitchenette. The potatoes they had delivered actually looked fresh. So, I selected three large ones to use for the cheesy potatoes.
Put the three spuds in the oven…
Got the rest of the food put away…
Again, they had no Leicester Cheese, shame, but they substituted some imitation extra-strong cheddar, so at least I could make the cheesy pots up in a while.
The door chime rang out its ♫ Oh, Susana ♫ tune. It was Josie to tell me she’d just had a call from her Niece, who is going to take her out for a meal today. Bit of a disappointment…
I’d just added the mushrooms, tomatoes and chestnuts to Josie’s stew on the stove hob as well! Humph! Never mind, I said she could have it tomorrow. She seemed happy enough with that.
The Carer arrived, the same gal as yesterday. So no humour or nattering. She took the waste bag with her, though. A tablet short in the pot she provided. A Beta Blocker or Codeine. I assumed I’d dropped it; she got another one.
I carried on with prepping the fodder. I got on with getting Josie’s chilli ready in between.
Got the pots out of the oven and the cheese, sauces, BBQ seasoning, vinegar, BBQ sea salt, and bin nearby. Ready to scrape out the flesh from the tubers into the basin to bash the hell out of them with the seasonings added…
Which went amazingly well, no shakes, nerve-end didn’t go off, and only one tiny nick on the finger. No dropping of anything at all… oh, yes, I did drop the BBQ seasoning pot; don’t know I forgot that, cause it landed on my left foot and rolled to the end of the kitchen. I took a snap of it below.
I set the timer, took it to the computer, and worked on the ‘Why’ blog. I soon needed the Porcelain Throne, so off I trundled to the wet room. All went well. Washed and out to check on the spuds in the kitchenette oven (That’s where they were, Hahaha!).
The peas were ready, so I got them on the plate with the sliced yellow tomatoes.
Sister Jane rang, and we had a chinwagging session.
Got the spuds out; I must say they looked good to me. Then, as the plate and tray layout progressed, I was impressed with my culinary performance today… Smug-Mode-Adopted!
I spent many hours on the odeing for the blog. Visited Facebook WordPress Reader and had t nip to the wet room again, for the low point of the day – Little Inchies fungal lesion had been bleeding yet again. I’d not noticed earlier with the excitement of getting a cheesy potatoes meal made without any severe hassle, finding it tasted so good and talking with Jane, that the blood had congealed with the Protection Pants. (A memory, something I had to do or something like that just fluttered into my head, then left?
So I was in the wet room for an awfully long time, cleaning and medicating. And this is the most painful of all of the ailments to medicate. I’d like to shout ‘Argh!’ But I won’t, I did a bit of that at the time. Hahaha! But today was still a better than usual one, and a Sunday too; usually not a lucky day. Although, I reserve the right to change my mind if it starts bleeding again. Hehe!
I was feeling a bit tired now, so I sat down with a water bottle and turned on the TV. Fell asleep for a couple of hours and was woken by the evening Carer coming early (Not that it matters). On to the Computerisationing again.
22:20hrs: Sounds like a vacuum, droning noises from above. (Not from Herbert, too distant-sounding) If I can hear it sufficiently to keep me awake, I feel sorry for anyone with decent hearing trying to get off to sleep! I think it got to Herbert above me because he started tapping and banging then. Kept it up on and off until nearly midnight!
If you don’t mind, a few words being spoken to you? My mind wandered a little then, fretting and with Deja Vous… Because getting to sleep, I just couldn’t do… The droning noise’s sound got louder, persistent they grew!
The Thought Storms kicked off, as they tend to… The eyes, the left knees arthritis, appointments overdue, Silly thoughts, like should I give my testicles a shampoo? Sleep was unavailable, so do I have a shower. or catch the flu… Turn the TV on? Get something to eat? That sounded neat, Yes, I was going a smidgeon barmy, yes, it must be true… I nodded off, and after an hour of kip… I woke in a mind-stew! I waddled to the Porcelain Throne, messy job, Oh, the phoo!
Then Carer Richard arrived, the medications to sort and do… Brought me two postage packets; I said thanks, bless you! Issued the medications, and before he said his Depardieu… We had a little natter, or a few… I told Richard of last nights noisy hullabaloo…
That ensured me no sleep, and hitherto…
It must have been loud; I heard it too…
In seconds, Richard had worked it through…
Gale force winds had all night long blew…
As it happens, they are still blowing now, too!
I thanked him for settling the mystery issue…
Slipped him some treats, as he said his adieu!
After another ‘orrible night of ever waking up, and Thought-Storm attacks, with a few nocturnal hobbles to the NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket), for painful, partly uncontrollable urinating; And having to clean and freshen up from the effects of the PMD (Pre-Micturition Dribbles), and CMD (Cessational Micturition Dribbling and splashes), all of varying nature.
One is like a torrent, belting out with no control over it and suffering from the splashback. The next, so painful and barely a trickle that somehow still managed to spray over my pyknic, wobbly, midriff more than found its way into the NWWB! Then I had to clean up, freshen up, and back down in the £300, second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige coloured, haemorrhoid-testing, unfit-for-use, recliner.
I seemed to nod off again quickly enough each time, but sleep never lasted more than a few minutes – then it was shooting awake again, and back to the mess-making, to be cleaned up again, wee-weeing.
Around 04:10hrs, I gave up trying to prompt Sweet Morpheus. And decided to get the kettle on, take some photo’s of the dim view of the sky and end car park. I got the kettle on and required yet another wee-wee?
I took a photo with the Canon camera. It’s getting old and wrong now, just like me. (Hehe!) The spring on the SD card has gone, and Canon sometimes doesn’t recognise the card in the camera!
The shot I took of the end car park was far too dark to see much at all. So, I had to go on CorelDraw and adjust shadow, brightness, contrast and intensity to turn it into how it looks here on the right. Smug-Mode-Engaged!
This is the first time a car has not been parked on the yellow no parking zone! Well, while I’ve been taking the photos anyway.
It looks a little eerie if that’s the word I’m looking for. Nightmarish enough to be used as a ghost-themed book cover?
I couldn’t do enough work on the second shot of the view from the kitchen window. Sulk-Mode-Engaged
I made a belated brew of Glengettie, and I remembered that the Health Checks were supposed to be done again. So, I took a Cocodomal and Poo-Hardener, (Gooey last night, and messy! And tended to the Health Checks. I have the maximum SYS, Dia and Pulse figure safely put away; if they exceed them, I’ve got to call the paramedics. I put them safely away seems to have been lost to Vascular Dementia, Doris. Tsk! I started of with the checking. Took the BP and got these results, which I am confident, are well below the danger zones the nurse gave me.
All three readings were nuanced! It’s been a while since I was told I could stop doing the regular sphygmomanometerisationing. Since I started again, I’ve missed doing a few of them.
Then the temperature was taken. 34.9° c; I felt this was fine, but I checked on Dr Google anyway: “Mild +hypothermia (32–35 °C body temperature) is usually easy to treat. However, the risk of death increases as the core body temperature drops below 32 °c. Nae, bother methinks.
I made another brew and destroyed a banana. Made an Iceland order, then I took a stand-up shower at the sink.
A little early to use the noisy shower yet.
And it went jolly well… no, amazingly well! Fantastic, in fact! Here are a few things that pleased me greatly: Little Inchies fungal lesion had hardly bled at all! Shaving, one, I say ONE tiny nick only! Only two dropsies in the whole session! I had to use the Porcelain Throne while doing the ablutions… and it was smooth, bloodless, and not in the slightest bit messy or gooey! Double Smug-Mode Utilised! Only one walking into anything, the door as I left the wet room.
I had just one naughty that bothered me. A bad one; due to my hitting my ankle on the metal tray as I pulled my foot away. I stubbed my toe on the bucket that just had been cleaned and disinfected.
The state of the veins in the ankles and feet was not a pretty sight, but overall… Yippy!
I had a closer look at the vasculitis and venous thromboembolism veins on show. I think these are what the cancelled appointment at the QMC Anticoagulation and Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT) was about? However, at 3.5 last time, the Warfarin level was spot on!
The Carer arrived after I’d dressed and gone on the computer. The Carer was in a rush, missed checking my swallowing the tablets, and forgot to take the waste bag to the chute for me (again). But she was obviously in a hurry, bless her. Not an easy job for the gals to do, with different people having differing, altering needs.
I now find myself in a position to give you an updated taste report on the £3 mini box of the Marks & Spencers Marmite Dinky Cheese Pinwheels I got from Ocado. Tasteless, Crap! Having eaten some of them.
Made a start on this blog creating. During which, the wee-weeing has grown less frequent – Phew!
I came across last nights sunset photographs. Both from the kitchenette window. I’m not sure why I took two that were of the same area, basically? I should imagine that Peripheral Neuropathy Pete would be to blame, and the finger must have stuck unfeelingly to the button?
I went on the WordPress Reader to see what folk have posted. Then answered some WordPress comments. Then did some TFZer Facebooking until…
Time to get the fodder sorted out – Oh yea!
Got the Cornish Pastie into the fridge; set the times. Potatoes were already in the slow cooker, and peas were on a low light in the saucepan.
A sort of fumble-thud took place in the obese stomach area, making the flab wobble! A little belching and a few stabbing pains. On my way to the wet room, the rumbling began again. I tore off the trews and PP’s and unceremoniously plonked me botty on the Throne… the action started immediately!
All seemingly over and done, I had the sensation that it wasn’t yet. So, I had a go at the easy crossword puzzle book. And very nearly got four clues answered but made do with three. (Hehehe!)
After ten minutes or so, the backup evacuation came. I was so glad I stayed in situ for its possible arrival.
Then, having washed and cleaned things, I realised I could smell something like burning… I dropped the nail brush…
Panic, flap, heartbeat racing, I rushed out to get to the kitchenette to see what I’d done. Casually shoulder-charging the door frame again on my way – now having to contend with Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, I lunged my way into the kitchen, nose twitching and looking for signs of smoke from the oven… I did feel a dirty great Grade A, class one fool! It was the peas that had been burnt, as for the Cornish Pastie in the oven… I’d not even turned the thing on! So, Vascular Dementia Doris had got me bleeding, bruised, bashed about and going barmy. Left me with a right load of cleaning and sorting out; Trowing away the burnt peas, scrubbing the saucepan, getting some more on the boil, wet room to clean, PPs needed changing. I got the oven on again and reset the timer.
Then, as I was getting the tray and things out, I had another thud in the stomach – no, not the bowels or bladder this time – a sudden fear that I’d left the tap running in the wet room! I grabbed Metal Mickey and went with all haste to check. I believe I might have said something like, “You stupid fart of an old ♠ 6† f=ing idi⅛¬” Something along those lines! I could have cried with joy when I first found everything okay in the room… then I was coming out, I stubbed my toe against the stand-up drier radiator!
If There Is A Lord…
I’d like to ask him/her some questions; this’ll be awkward… If there is a God, un he finds I don’t believe, I could be buggered? Here goes: Why did you make me earthbound… With the minuscule willie wot I found? Girl or Boy problem? I’ll be bound!
My young life was cruel, but I was only semi-hard… Mam and Dad fighting, she left… I ate bread and lard! Or on the weekend sometimes an Oxo cube or a pilchard, Fast forward, why take Suzie from me? It made me hard! Memories, whatever you do, I’ll not discard!
My hair fell out at 20; others at 80 have plenty, tit! I tried to be a good man, my hearing went, have you heard? Then you stopped my heart, a mechanical one replaced it… Ulcer, being shot, hernias, life was haphazard… Even my already mini-willy further withered!
I pressed on, expecting things to improve, with disregard… Got shot again, and you sent me Stroke… Flashforward… Made me redundant at 62; you are a wizard! I survived that; Vascular Dementia to me, you catapulted! Rotten teeth, poverty causes that and being demented… The hearing gets worse, things are going downward… Now both eyes Cataract, Saccades and they’re Glaucoma’d…
The money is getting low, But of course, you’ll know… I’ll have to rob an apple orchard, Keeping tabs on your scoreboard? Now, black depressions on me, you bestow! The ailments make me fat when I should be like a scarecrow!
Oh, and why, with all the other crap, did you give me hammertoe? I really have tried to be a decent fellow… But bad luck seems to constantly flow… To the little-willied idiot that you know… The one with ever-increasing ailments, now it’s lumbago! And, from the fungal lesion, blood continues to flow, You even teased me last year with impetigo!
The funeral’s all paid for when I have to go… Sorry I cannot muster any faith or belief, though… I don’t believe in Christmas or Mistletoe… I’ll be leaving behind a few friends, but many more foe, Slowly I’m getting ready, feeling more mellow… I’d love to leave behind me an afterglow… Reincarnation? Oh, no, no, no! Is it yet time for me to go? Please let me know…
Finally got the meal sorted out, served up and feasted upon with great relish and satisfaction.
It took me no time at all to entirely consume this nosh.
The black tomatoes were as perfect as one can get, most beautiful tasting! Sob! Shame it’s the last of them.
Only the Cornish Pastie was below par, but not by a lot. The plate and tray were scrapped of crumbs as well, into my mouth! Hehe! A Flavour Rating of 8.4/10.
As I was doing the washing up, I took three snaps of the dying sunset in the darkness.
The first one was taken straight ahead from the kitchenette window.
The next one was taken to the left. Amazing sky colouring again, I thought.
As I was getting ready to take a shot of the car park on Chestnut Way…
I knocked over the kitchen towel holder, which took the clock, a tub of Citric Acid and my mirror with it, on the way down to the floor! Thundergrongles!
They made a clattering noise as they met with the floor. Which I didn’t mind, cause Herbert in the flat above has been banging away all day, on and off. I hope he heard it, but I felt bad for the folks below my flat. Fantastically, no breakages from the mirror; the acid did not break open either! Wondered if my prayer in ode above had worked? Hehehe!
I got the car park photo taken. Then I got the cleaning up sorted out from the Accifauxpa.
Carer Valerie arrived, which was nice and cheered me up. A Carer who cares is a Carer you want to manage for you. There are a few. Well, many, but one bad apple can upset the apple cart and start the depressions. Hahaha!