Bad day again. Old Pains back. Catheter crippling Little Inchie. making his Fungal Lesion bleed again. The Mystery Rib Pains started again! Dizzy Dennis, balance shot to pieces, concentration not available. Eyes worse, the six weeks of Trotsky Terence in command of the Porcelain Visits seems to have come to an abrupt end.
I’ve not passed from the rear end all day! Just burnt my knee on the oven shelf while putting the food in the oven; during a most inappropriately timed Neuropathy Pete leg dance. Can’t find my mobile. send the top strap on the day catheter had fallen off – used sellotape. Not feeling too great. Stuffed painkillers down my throat all day.
Got up late, still well behind with the sleep.
Within half an hour of taking off the night bag, what bit of urines had flowed, was looking decidedly bloody again! Still, you don’t like to complain, does yer.
Morning views. I was trying to catch the seagulls but didn’t so too well.
.
Mid-morning, tried again to get a photo of the gulls. They were Quick – especially when they find a rat or squirrel for lunch. Then the fighting between them begins.
The blood flowed again in the evening.
Better get summat to eat. I’ve revived the burnt chilli, and added a can of beans; it should do me.
Arrived to medicate me and get the detached from the & .
She got the socks on my feet for me. We had a mini-nattering session, with laughs included. Good Medicine, Laughter Thanked her, and off she trotted, saying hose will see me later.
♫ Food, Glorious Food ♫ Prepared and served up
I resuscitated the leftover chilli from last night and added a can of cheap baked beans to it and four ersatz sausages, and some tomato passata. Some BBQ sauces were stirred into the mix, and it tasted grand. I had the last two cobs, no bread left now. I’ve ordered some cobs from Iceland that are on offer. Sliced wholemeal with six in a bag, and three bags for £3, also 2×4 Wheatmeal long cobs. I reckon there will be room in the freezer to store them for longer. Of course, Iceland is infamously known for their ‘None-In-Stock’ notifications on bread lines; that’s why I’ve ordered two types. But only temporarily. I’ll find out in the morning if they arrive or not.
“May you go forth and have fun festivities frequently!”
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!
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.
02:30hrs: Woke up for the umpteenth time, but not with , but the need for the And what a change in style this morning it was! I got seated on the throne and knew it would be advisable to get the crossword book out. Nothing was moving, yet the tummy told me there was a dollop needing to be evacuated. was in command of things, and he was not going to be rushed. I actually got a few clues answered as I waited for the action to begin. I thought it was comical when it did burst out… all of it in seconds, a blessed relief from the travel pains, followed by multiple plop-plopping sounds. And it was all over. No bleeding, no mess! I am not sure if the released product reminded me of hazelnuts or chocolate peanuts, but fell for the nuts cause they were harder. The WC needed only one flush to clear the contents away, and I felt rather good; I expected things to be more painful, messier and take much longer. No help or urging from me was needed at all. However, having been fooled before, .
Tackled then. Toothache Tiffany followed my breaking off another bit of a tooth.
Not such a good shaving session; back to the old habits of multiple nicks and cuts. About six, I think. The main reason is my own stupidity. After my first two nicks, I got out two new razors and dished the old ones – But No, I found out later I hadn’t! What I did was throw the new razors into the waste bin and carry on shaving using the duff old ones!
More Followed in the medicalisationing activities.
Made a bigger mess of missing the eyes with the drops than ever before! Had to conserve the Germoloid cream for. I forgot to get another tube when I went to the pharmacy on Tuesday. Yes, I swore at myself rancorously! I was so close to taking a Galpharm capsule in mistake for a Senna to help free ‘s grip on the rear-end workings. Just imagine if I had taken one… That could have been a right pickle and mess I’d put myself into again! A genuine bit of good luck that I realised in time!
But, of course, my smugness was short-lived. Putting the olive oil in, I somehow squeezed the rubber, and the oil flowed, I dropped the slippery bottle, and it landed with perfect precision: right on my left foot’s . It made me jump a smidgeon. Of course, I took it all in my stride, grinned and laughed off the agony.
I dropped the tube of Germolene due to an unexpected sudden and I dropped tube, and totally without thinking, I bent down to pick it up !
Oh, I’ve mentioned my new ailment yet, have I? I’ll introduce you to it then. Not easy giving it a name cause I’m not sure what it is yet.
Pains similar to , but around, the back of the rib cage. At first, I thought I must have banged something when I took the tumble on whatever day it was. But Carer whatshername could see no bruising.
Then I thought it might be something to do with bladder and urine infection coming back again.
Then I changed my mind cause I found the ribs hurting when I tried to lift my right arm; and if I tried to bend down at all. No idea if means anything, but had given many more bouts of the shakes this morning than she did all of last week?
Now, over the last eight hours, there have been times when there were no stabbing pains at all (unless I bent or raised my right arm), but the sharp stabbing pains always return and stay longer than the moments of relief.
I thought at first, well, it’s good luck that I have made (Carer TY did, actually), an appointment to see the Doctor. Then it dawned on me, it is 15 days away!
So, I’ve been at the analgesics more than I would have liked. But needs must. Is that the right saying? Needs must? Grammarly has not objected?
Right now, as I am typing my errors and mistakes on this blog, has just kicked of with her most violent attack of the day yet. But the stabbing pains in the ribs are now far less frequent? I’m confused… but that’s nothing new.
The last Accifauxpa of the , was only one of the regulars… No, having said that, I’ve done this for weeks, I don’t think? It was a bog-standard shoulder charge at the edge of the wet room door on leaving it. . And… please note this – there were no revenge shakings from . I’ve confused myself even more now?
It’s taken so long to get up to here on this blog – Blog time at 07:00hrs, but the real-time is now… sod it, the clocks stopped, battery kaput, methinks. I’ll get the spyglass and look at the computer clock… hang on… 15:18hrs, I just will not have time to put everything in detail now. Shorthand from here on folks, sorry me hearties!
Worked on updating and making mistakes on the Friday blog (4 hours). Got it posted. Pinterested. A massive amount of comments had come in on WordPress, so I replied to it. (One. Hehehe!) Emailed the link.
Carer Jamina arrived around 07:30hrs. A new gal to me. Lovely lady. Had a natter after giving me the medications. She checked the taps and stove on leaving, taking the waste bags to the chute for me. ♥
Went on WordPress Reader. But it wouldn’t give me access to some sites?
The Tap-tapping, bang-banging, drilling gentleman in the flat above kicked off again. Amazingly he was not too noisy this morning.
Pressed on, making error after mistake and hitting the wrong buttons and icons in my effort to get the Ode for the day done and Nottingham News graphics done. Harder work than ever now with the eyes so bad. I do love trying. Sorry for any errors that get through!.
Here are the early morning photographs from the kitchen. I nearly forgot them. Tsk!
Not too bad.
Had to keep going for wee-wees regularly throughout the day.
I don’t think I’ve taken so many in such a short time (six hours) before. Then again, thinking back, maybe I have; Hehe!
I just took my fourth trip to the Porcelain Throne.
I think Herbert must be going out today. Mayhap delivering some of the steam-powered toy trains to the kids at the school? All quiet now! 11:30hrs Carer Kara Arrived! I asked about the cleaner lady I’m paying for who had not called for three weeks. Kara looked at this week’s roster, and she’s on it… no, next week’s roster.
I pressed on, making cock-ups and mistakes on this blog for hours.
So tired now, with my getting up so early. Going to make something to eat, methinks some potato Rostis, tomatoes and rolls? Yes, with some BBQ sauce, of course. I might not be back until morning… then again, I may get up early again and make a start on updating this blog…
Or not.
Whoops, not done the Health Checks.
:
Smug-Mode-Adopted – Yee-ha!
A photo of the half-eaten meal of the day is here on the right. Vegan bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis, Orange yoghourt, and two brown rolls.
With my usual BBQ sauce.
Despite the and that kicked off as I started digesting this feast of flavour, I still enjoyed it muchly. Flavour Rating: 8.8/10!
Washed the pots… but when I got in the kitchen to do them, I found that I’d left the darned hot water tap running… Again! Self-cursing began!
Zzz! Deep sweet sleep… heavenly… I think I was having a tête-à-tête with St. Peter at his gates at one point. Well, more of an argument, really; he wanted to send me back to life again. No Way! Not with the everyday agony of the ailments, struggling with hearing, seeing, and the Mental-Torture of Dementia Doreen – I wasn’t having that!And, she’s given me aboulomania!
I was woken up when the 21:15hr late check call arrived at 22:10hrs. I recall the gal apologising for being late but little else. My chronology clock was all topsy-turvy. I remembered the Toblerone for her cause it wasn’t in the treats box this morning, so I got something right. Locked the door as she departed. (I know this cause it was locked in the morning).
Got off back to sleep, but this time it was full of the usual repeated, regular pullulating jerking awake with the twitching right shoulder, and often knocking something off of the ottoman as the limbs flail! That’s not right, is it? I did tell the Doctor about this. The response I got was an odd down-the-nose look that said to me: “The man’s potty!” followed by, let me know if it gets worse. What’s she waiting for, the arm to drop off? Or, for me, to pass away through sleep deprivation? It’s a lot worse now with extra waking-ups from the unaccountable …
04:30hrs: I woke wanting a wee-wee, passed it, and had to go to the . A smidgen messy, but no pain and no hæmatorrhœa.
I cleaned up but had already made plans for the day while seated on the throne. I shall get the sorted out as soon as I’ve finished doing the Health Checks, and then I’ll get the medicationalisationings done. Owzat then? Me making plans, blimey!
Off to the computer. No tea, no biscuits, no depression, no, and I do believe I may have been humming the Shadows Stars fell on Stockton tune to myself!
Not the result I was hoping for; a rather high Hypertension – Two, close to the (Call 999) stage Three. I blame and all his extra long all day, and noisier-than-ever bursts of clangs, clanks, Tap-tapping, knocking and drilling yesterday for this! Thanks mate!
I did some Pinteresting when I’d done the Health Checks and updated the Thursday blog. I seemed to be doing well this morning the were not playing me up too much – but that was a silly thing for me to say; they can go offline in an instant, and the brain no longer understands the broken messages, and anything can happen then! Wish I’d keep me gob-shut!
The computer was put into sleep mode and off to get them done. I’d taken the camera in with me and took a snap of the legs after I’d stripped off; the one on the right is after the session was completed… And I’d heroically, bravely, boldly and stupidly used you-know-who to get the long diabetic socks on. Yes, I’d utilised the mocking, fearsome, finger bruising, cutting and ripping green goddess known as ! And came out of the battle with only a squashed ! And a rather large was gone into!
The shaving produced only two tiny nicks on the neck. Teggie cleaning did go badly, though. Another lump had detached itself from the left bicuspid and double molar; the blood flowed, and that took me some time to stop. Thus, started! This is because of the Warfarin INR level is high, at 4.4. (3.5 is the target) That’s why the DVT clinic has reduced the dosage again.
Germolened, Germoloided, and oiled the ear holes. And guess what? , That ignorant slobbovitch from the flat up above kicked off with his banging and knocking again!
I’d had enough to contend with yesterday, over 12 hours of it, and just had to bounce back some similar noises to inform him of the danger he was in.
They were tap-tappings, and I hit the top of the high bookcase with Metal Mickeys’ plastic handle on the hard wooden shelves. Trying to imitate the same amount of bangs (18), I counted.
This did no good, and a few minutes later, they kicked off again. Louder this time, I could clearly hear them without my hearing aids in.
I returned a volley of bangs around the top of the bookcase cabinet, and I kept it up for a few moments. And waited, stick in hand, for the reply… There were many more taps and bangs, but they were all a lot quieter, so fair enough. They stopped after a few minutes. He’s probably going out to see his favourite youngsters with his pressies? I’m dreading the self-centred, impolite, insensitive, disrespectful, snobbish, haughty, pompous, pretentious, uppity, scoffing, contumelious, smart-alecky, ineffable crud-nut coming back.
Got carried away there, sorry…
Was beginning to get a smidgen worse as I exited the wet room – Smelling all nice and fresh, the smell of the medications wafting up my nose. I went into the junk room to select the day clothes… and… ! As I was reaching at full tilt to get the jumper from the clothes racking, presented me with one heck of an . Short & sharp, but it had over, and I fell into the clothes and slid gently to the floor! Breaking a few clothes hangers in the process and landing on the right knee, which did not please .
The hobble on my hands and knees out into the hallway, into the front room, and the struggle to get myself upright using the weight of the recliner took a long time, but I did it. How things were going, a . I was not hurting, apart from . But that was nothing to do with the tumble.
I soon recovered, and I made my way to the kitchenette to get the kettle on to make a brew of Glengettie.
The red line on the horizon caught my attention, and I went for the Lumix camera. It was misty, so not the best of conditions, but it still looked good to me.
Then I took a shot of the bottom field with the frost still not melted. There were many seagulls about circling and threatening, zooming low. Had they seen a rat, cat or lone dog that they often make a meal of? I missed them all in the photo but caught some a few minutes later.
Took a photo of the drug-dealers house street. You can see which it is by the lack of frost and snow on the roof; no doubt they are growing cannabis or whatever in the loft, hence it being the only house with the attic being heated?
Took another shot of the horizon.
Then one of the Winwood Heights car parking on Chestnut way. Oh... I caught some of the seagulls on their breakfast safari in this one. Hehehe! I made up some waste bags. The nice gentleman in the flat above me offered some accompaniment for me.
This time the tap-tapping was almost musical? The uncommunicative: laconic, taciturn, aloof, Laodicean, reticent, stoical, unruffled, equanimous, unclubbable, unforthcoming, stand-offish, unapproachable, haughty chap, was producing some good stuff, I thought.
A piacere, which, considering he was only using what sounded like a sledgehammer and mallet (Maybe a nail hammer as well), was pretty impressive. I was just getting into it, and he stopped.
I must go on the web to try to find some cartoons to use over the next few days. I may have to stop suddenly. For I have the Amazon deliveries that are due today, and they are currently (0335hrs) being given an ETA of twixt 03:40 > 0640hrs. Which possibly means it will be here by 22:00hrs or tomorrow.
Weary, tired, computer off.
Woke me up. Issued Peptac, checked taps and stove. Had a mini-natter. Took bags And amazon boxes with her.
Woke up by the kind, caring, sympathetic noisy Git-in-the-flat-above, Herbert. Knock, knocking for a while.
Woke me up. Meds issued. Mini natter enjoyed.
21:45hrs: Woke up to some strange different noises from the Management protected and defended, unneighbourly, superior-natured Gentleman in the flat above. Not sure what caused them, a sort of chugging sound?
22:10hrs: Ah, that’s better, back to his regulation mode of tap-tapping, with the odd clunk thrown in for good measure.
I kept trying to fall asleep again but ended up turning on the TV. Ah, that did it! Zzz!
01:30hrs: With a jerk, jump and shock! Not the foggiest idea what had caused this rude awakening? but it buggered me up, and I spent the next four hours or so desperately trying to get back to sleep – No chance until about 05:00hrs. Off into bliss!
05:20hrs: I more or less erupted into wakefulness.
I was half over the edge of the cushion on the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, incommodious, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner.
For this, I blame the nightmare I was having, the slippery materialed new dressing gown I had on… and I might as well blame as well. Oh, and myself, I suppose!.
Although, is yet another possible (definite) reason for my poorlier than it should be, health. Nicknamed Herbert’s real name is John, I think, the protected from criticism, imperviable to criticism, animadversion or condemnations. A superior acting gentleman, urchin. An untouchable, pompous, arrogant elitist!. He’s not a nice person to those he’s making life a misery for with his constant everyday noise-making. Made invulnerable and defended by those in control of the Independent Living Organisation. I pray I do not meet him face to face ever again… I’ve never ever lost control physically… yet! Doing so could well see me off – but he is seeing me off slowly with his grinding, tap-tapping, drillings and knockings every single day! Such a supercilious sod.
I think there’s just a minimal iota of an idea, that he may be getting to me?...Hehehe!
05:20Hrs: I woke up with the guilt of poor Carer Richard going with me today to the Hospital. It makes sense, I know; he is the only person on this planet that can answer the questions the nurse will ask. He was so kind to offer to go. Especially after he’s just finishing four tours of duty. But I know how tired the lad can get without this extra, but that’s Richard for you. Not that any of this assuages my feelings of putting on him. After stewing in my guilt and appreciation for a few minutes, I decided to get my lumbering-elephantine body out of the recliner and get the ablutionalisationing done straight away. That was the plan!
Scenario: Dark, no RV or computer on, but a strange light from the kitchen was clearly visible, even to me, as I approached the open room door… Dang, Dang… Dang-Dang! As I looked to my right into the kitchenette, a narrow red-yellow light beam hit me from within the room! To all intents and purposes, it was a single eye, located head-height and piercing. It was completely dark otherwise. That must have helped with the illusion, too).
I suppose I had some help in getting confused from my ailments,, and , and getting misled.
For a second or so, I believed there was a possibility of a one-eyed intruder standing in the kitchen. “Go on, have a laugh” Hehehe! I did after I got the light on.
At that moment, it reminded me of a science fiction film of old, I forget the title. An alien who had a giant robot to protect him? Not that it would have fitted into my kitchenette anyway, but it did cast a deadly ray of the same colour that disintegrated tanks in New York. Did somebody Renee or Rennie star in it?
Anyway, as I got the light switched on, I realised that it was from the fridge door that I’d left open last night.
I’d stacked some food around it (the fridge light), including a pot of orange and raspberry-flavoured jelly. The light was altered into a beam as it went through… I did feel like a fool. Nothing new there, then!
The first noticeable thing was as I was going to get my feet into the bowl. It was amazing how the left leg was tiny-thin compared to the right one? A different colour too? Erm?
Apart from losing ten minutes searching for the toothbrush (it was underneath the trolley), a couple of hardly worth-mentioning shaving cuts, and a door shoulder charge on leaving the room. All went well. Even the getting the socks on and medicationalisationing.
I worked it out so that I might just have time to get the Wednesday blog finished (not a lot to do on it) before I needed to get the things sorted out for today’s visit to the Coppice Hospital. And yes, I even got that done as well!
So, a scare of sorts; that turned out to be a humorous incident. Great ablution session and the best bash on the blog I’ve had for months? A phenomenal start to the day!
THE TRIP TO THE COPPICE HOSPITAL
Arrived, having just completed his fourth tour of duty. Instantly my guilt returned.
It was a weird sensation; I was so pleased to see him, shook him by the hand… But the lad looked like he was on his last legs.
Not that it stopped him from launching into helpful advice and checking that I was getting the right things ready to take with us. Richard rang for a taxi.
I did nearly forget the reading glasses but remembered as we were at the point of leaving. I went to get to them.
Richard had already made the checks on taps etc., so the didn’t get a chance to get me going.
We were down in the lobby in plenty of time. The taxi arrived minutes later.
The taxi driver, like so many of them, took shortcuts through the estates. It seemed to my , that all the roads and streets had speed bumps on them! One of the worst, well not worst, but most painful taxi rides ever. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than poor SOSTH!
We arrived at the right place on the grounds, and I was helped out of the taxi. They retrieved the three-wheeler from the boot for me, and I felt well looked after. Bloody hurting in the SOSTH testicle area, though! Hahaha!
Instinct, I think, led Richard to lead me around some buildings to the required door, finding it the first time. Thank you, Richard!
Really good that Richard was there; we had to use an intercom thing to get in. Well, Richard did. It was not a long wait after Richard had logged us in with the receptionist, and the Memory Nurse fetched and led us to the office we needed, hers. A lovely nurse.
We went through the usual memory test. I think I did better than the last time at the surgery. The normal questions and a draw-a-clock routine. Then some history, then medical questions.
A session of questioning Richard. I couldn’t hear them, unfortunately.
The nurse said I did well. (Which was worrying at the time cause I do need help!) She is going to give me a brain scan… now at this point, I had one of my blank moments and what she was saying did not get through properly. But I thought it did, now I cannot remember the details of what she had said. She might have given me a date of the first scan… maybe, but surely I’d have written it down if she had? February rings a bell in there somewhere. Mayhaps the first scan, then a second to see the changes in the brain? Oh, dear, Richard will know. I hope.
Why I didn’t say something at the time beats me.
But poor Richard was really in need of some rest by them. And we were soon told we could go. Which was a blessing for my mate Richard.
The receptionist called a taxi for us. We were soon on the way back here.
This taxi driver took a similar speed-bump route back but quicker driving, which entailed some cruel en route.
Back at the flats, all Richard wanted was to get home. And I don’t blame him one bit. I told him I had some of his favourite burgers in the fridge for him, but he was so tired he just wanted to go home. I pointed out that when he gets home, these burgers will only take two minutes in the microwave… He changed his mind and tool them. So hope he enjoys them, but he’ll probably fall asleep eating them.
Thanks again, mate.
BACK HOME
When Richard had departed, I had a feeling of aloneness, not loneliness. If you know what I mean?
The WC was used and then photographed. Funny how you miss things when you go out, innit? Hehehe!
Took a shot of the main room. Otherwise known as ‘The Tip’, ‘The Mess’, ‘Rubbish Room’, or ‘Bedroom’, although I don’t have a bed anywhere.
Then the kitchenette. A place of fear, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, burnt food, fridge and freezer doors left open, hob and oven left turned on, many trip-overable points, and occasionally a weird one-eyed monster appears in the night.
All a part and parcel of the unaccountable mysteries, phantoms, and haunting of Woodthorpe Court. (It never used to be like this, they told me until I arrived!)
I blame myself, like.
Arrived in good spirits. I asked him to ring EasyLink to arrange a lift if they could for tomorrow to Bulwell. I spent ages getting the details together and readying the calendar… But no chance! They were obviously either fully booked up or out of drivers again. They divert to a message when that happens. I wanted to get some food in.
Still, I’ll not starve, I’m sure. I’ve got a can of gungo beans, some out-of-date butter, manky even further out-of-date burgers in the freezer, and some potatoes that just need de-eying. Haha!
Shaquille departed with his chosen can. After which, I realised he had not issued me with the Peptac medicine.
I pressed on with doing this blog. It was incredibly slow going again. So I decided to get the Health Checks done… and this was the result!
18:00hrs: I put some potatoes in the oven. (After a lot of de-eying and removing green maggots). Then I took this masterpiece of photographicalisational genius of the evening view. from the kitchen window. Well, alright, it might not be that good exactly then... But it’s definitely a little better than my usual crap!
18:40hrs: , a rare but welcome pretty visitor arrived, dead on time too! ♥ She said how much better I looked that last week. She must have called in the middle of the four nights without any sleep and averaging 80 wee-wees per night. Boy, do I appreciate Richard’s care in getting me back to near normal! I hope he can catch up on sleep now. Sinead said she could smell the potatoes when she for out of the lift – not sure if that is good or not? She selected a can of pop and a nibble in thanks and departed. Feel lost again now, Hehehe!
I checked the potatoes in the oven. During a break in ‘Heartbeat’ on the box. Ah, now I know why they smelt so! I’d sprayed them with olive oil and dropped a blob of BBQ sauce in each one. However, at first, I could not understand why, after two hours, they were still not cooked through yet. Eventually, it dawned on me. I’d only set the heat to 150°! Being the intelligent problem-solver I am, I turned it up to 200° and got back to watch my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on the box.
I then checked the new Meridian Carer roster. It seems I have another caller coming at 21:45hrs ETA. To check that nothing is left on that shouldn’t be, and issue a fourth dose of Peptac. Tonight it says is calling. Another nice gal.
Why, what for, I’ve not got the foggiest, but… Suddenly burst into giving me an almost industrial-level shoulder-shaking! None-stop for a good few minutes, I was beginning to worry about this, and it stopped abruptly. Thank heavens for that, I thought to myself… She kicked off again, even more violently, this time. But slowly, it died off, this time after a minute or two. I can do without any more of these from her; thank you!
The Meridian 31:45hrs Care did not arrive.
But fear not, I remembered to take the Pentac. Shame she didn’t come, though: cause I left the hot water tap (faucet) running again; it’d run cold by the time I noticed it. I’d not put the plug in the sink, so I had no overflow problems to sort out, at least!
I got the meal served up.
The potatoes were tasty enough, and a few too many, methinks? I enjoyed this simple feast, ate it on my knee, decorating my jammies and the recliner with droplets of BBQ sauce and bits of the potatoes and skin. Naughty Boy! Took me ages to clean it all up afterwards. Hehe!
I was well tired when it came to settling into the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner. Unfortunately: I plopped down into the seat from a greater height than I intended, landing joltingly, jarringly, and crushing ! The pain left me feeling light-headed. But, of course, there was no cursing, howling, winching or feeling sorry for myself.
Thanks to the testicle-testing trauma, it took me a long time to get to sleep tonight. However, once I got off, I had a decent four uninterrupted hours of respite in the arms of Sweet Morpheus. Grrreat!
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.
Hey-Ho!
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!
Yee-Ha!
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.
Morning Views
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!
Grrreat!
PHOTOS?
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.
