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DOREEN DEMENTIA RULES!
It can only get worse – and my rate of losing it seems to be increasing. After having the stroke, the Stroke Wards in the hospital were desperate for beds. They sent me to a ‘Care Home’ for a month. The long-term patients were all suffering from different types of the same ailment; Dementia.
Alzheimer’s disease, Vascular dementia, and Alcohol-related dementia. Down syndrome and Alzheimer’s disease, Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy dementia. I felt so bad for them but was uncomfortable being there. Now, I believe it will not be too long before I rejoin them.
No doubt about it, my grip on things is, thankfully, slowly getting worse.
I’ve developed a fear of officialdom in the form of letters.
With cataracts, saccades and glaucoma, the hearing gets worse. Peripheral Neuropathy gifted loss of balance; causing falls, tumbles and walking into things… like walls and doors, missing steps, and the newest thing; The Neurotransmitters are not getting messages to the brain! It does its best, I’m sure. But more regularly now, I cannot pick something up, and sometimes cannot let go of it! I’m hoping the Doctors at the surgery, Highbury Hospital, or some Social Worker may read this. The trouble is, at this moment, I am aware of these issues, but on the rare occasion I see a specialist, there is nothing there. On my last visit to the Memory Nurse, I could not recall the name, or if it was a road or street, or the man’s name. She gave me an option of three given names, such was it an avenue, street or road? Mr Schmitt, Albright or Woodcock… obviously, I’d made up the questions asked, as an example.
My GP got a letter telling her my memory was the same as two months earlier. Which it wasn’t; in March, I answered them all, without prompting and help. Last time, even the ‘pick one of three’ was just a potluck.
I’m leaving taps on more often too. I’ve burnt three saucepans to death this month. Taken tumbles getting dressed, and I was only wearing protective pants and a dressing gown! Remembering all this is amazing!
I was supposed to have three brain scans, I think, a month apart – then they can read any changes – but this has to be done before they can identify the type of dementia I have and treat me with whatever to slow it down. I’ve had one. As I recall, I got lost trying to get out of the building. I can sense at this precise moment, I just had a few minutes of nothing; I call a Memory Blank, struggling now. I’ll try to get back later.
I’d be in a pickle without the Carers attending. It also helps me tremendously if we get time for a laugh and a little natter.
Sorry that I wrote this now. After reading it I sound like a right old whiner! I do think I’m a different person when the Dracula Depressions visit me. I decided to leave it on, if only as a warning to others, of how things can change so much. Yet, still, moments of the old self come through occasionally – and that is wonderful!
TTFN.
The feet were s lot better looking this morning.
The legs were a little lumpy in places.
Ablutions sorted. But doing the teeth, and spitting out
the toothpaste was a bloody job. Hehe!
Undoubtedly foggy out there this morning.
Spuds in the crock-pot.
Peas in the saucepan.
Sat at the computer desk.
Photo’d the Fog through
the balcony windows.
A new Olive-Oil dropper filled, for the
twice-daily earhole oilings.
A rare mug of Glengettie tea on the
computer desk. As usual, I forgot
about it, and it went cold. Tsk!
Rahmat arrived, and medications were issued.
First visit. The usual agony of carrying buckets of water to refill the non-working W.C. bowl. (Three calls to the Throne today, not so messy, but just as painful.
Annoying 
, and the pain started!
I set to creating some needed templates for this blog. I seemed to be doing a little better with the typing today, nowhere near as many missed keys…although my foments of bemusedness were relentless, my rate of work achieved was doing reasonably well – as were my mind-blanks, which delayed me a little. But it didn’t matter. For Liberty-Global Virgin Media boss Mr Fries helped…
Their Average Rating went down to 1.1 since I made this graphic last year!
Did some food prepping, another trip to the .
And returned to doing the blank templates, after Liberty-Global Virgin Media, who are now dearer than any other supplier, granted me a service again.
I thawed out some of Asda’s pre-crushed finger rolls.
I had several of these, which put the mocker on blogging.
Then…
.
Broke my heart, with my doing so well earlier. I gave up altogether. Turned off the computer, got the nosh finished and served up
It didn’t go down too well.
But that is likely to be because of the smoke & mirrors Liberty-Global Virgin Media’s letdowns getting to me!
Taste Rating 3.5/10.
Carer arrived and listened to my chuntering about…
.
I got the pen and pad out, and tried to do some odeing for tomorrow’s blog… Zzz!
The later Carer woke me up, and a painkiller was given.
I tried to get back to sleep, but it was no good, so I got up and took a photo of the sky.
Back in the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner.
I continued frequently getting to the point of nodding off, and every time the danged 
let loose!
Depressed and annoyed, I got up when I saw the colouring through the curtains had gotten browner. Grabbed the camera and went into the kitchen to see if it was worth picturing… I thought it was lovely!
Waiting for the sun to drop, I hung up the dressing gowns returned from the laundry. Checked the taps and cooker were not left on.
And back to take this shot.
.
Bootiful!
Not sure when I did get sleep, but it took a few hours, I think. I can recall getting up to check if I’d locked the door or not, spotting the clock that indicated 02:30hrs.
Adieu – All the bestest to You!
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milling 
Still, it didn’t affect my distinguished looks. Hehehe! 
, 
or by the double-glazed head-butting wound on my forehead. However… conversely, 
, then 
combined to ruin the nocturnal sleeping session on their own. 
arrived. I was so pleased to see him at last. But I was so tired I could not communicate properly. He told me to ring Matron about the leaking papules. Can’t recall much more; I think I kept nodding off while he was talking. Not being rude; just worn out through lack of sleep. I think he said as he left he’ll see me next Monday? A look at the roster later backed this up. Shame, only once a week.
was trying Otto stop me from talking, doing a reasonable job too: That the Carer, who was just out of the hospital with a similar problem, advised me to. I didn’t impress her!
.
, each one was messy.
.
and/or
, was assisting 
.
AÂ few lonely little clouds…
Flavour Rating: 802/10!
Oh, there was one other break in my sleep I’d forgotten about. I jouncingly, joltingly, and jarringly woke up, positive that someone had come into the flat. Not sure if it was a noise or part of a dream I’d been having, but I was certain someone was in the hallway…
testing, nauseatingly beige coloured, non-working, uncomfortable recliner… if there had been anyone coming in, they would have been about ten-minutes older by the time I got to the hallway. 
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One light, one dark leg and foot.
First photo of the day.
I now not what is was taken for.
Afternoon shot. As you can see above…
The lowest BP ever taken!
Only one 
Late afternoon Shot.
‘s. The lay said they would order some from the chemist who should deliver them to Meridian. Also, is the pains from Little Inchie continue, I must ring them. They didn’t get any worse, so didn’t need to.
Amazing sky, around 04:10hrs..
After I took this shot of the car park below, the sky captured my imagination. I started my pareidolia fixation going for the next fifteen minutes taking these shots of the changing sky – and searching for any figures I could find in the multi-coloured patterns! 
I think these are in order as I took them.
Star shop Enterprise quality these…
Beautiful layered night sky…
The sun reached weaker clouds,
Bootiful!
Gorgeous!
Still gorgeous two minutes later…
Distance shot for her last minutes
In close for a final effort.
There you are, then, proof that I am a man of letters! Hehe!
Arrived, waking me up and 
. He departed, and I finished the meal, then went and locked the front door.
rangeth the door chime? I was unsure why she had come, but it seemed she was due? Had to go carrying the 
night pouch in one hand and the Four-Pronged metal Mickey stick in the other. She asked if I wanted any medications; I thanked her and declined. Explaining that the night catheter had already been done. She checked the taps and stove for me and, after a mini-waffle, followed her to the door and bade her farewell.
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were with me on awakening… I’d be lost without their little morning greetings.
The day of memory loss, disappointments, getting little done, 
, 
and a few bursts of feeling 
for no particular reason whatsoever. As per usual,
made what should have been a better day worse. 
Carers (I think) Sam called. Then Carer Charly. She took some photos of the Sunset. I tried the Lumix again, and it let me take one shot!!!
The thicker envelope delivered was opened first.
The other letter was telling me I had failed to attend the Doctor’s to have an INR Blood Test and had to do so urgently. I must contact the Doctor to book an appointment immediately. Well, being as they have been coming to my flat to take it for two years now, I assumed they were going to continue to! Also, as well as, besides that, No one told me anything? Does the nurse’s striking have any effect on this scenario?
Now, if I snuff it via a blood clot or stroke, heart attack, or bleeding to death… according to the unknown because it’s not been taken level of INR is too high or low – if anyone reading this can investigate for me, please.
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I was trying to catch the seagulls but didn’t so too well.
The blood flowed again in the evening.
Better get summat to eat. I’ve revived the burnt
detached from the 
.
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. 
But only temporarily. I’ll find out in the morning if they arrive or not.
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I stirred. Past wind and then blood from 
. It was a struggle to remove, and finally I did, &
, well 
Hehe! I stopped crying anyway. There was not much wee-weeing done overnight again.
. 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.
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.
Going back in apparently in a fortnight, as the catheters are not clearing the bladder of urine at all.
, or heavens above, with the guilty of giving me many a tumble 
… or not.
The kind, caring. vampire in the flat above. launched into one of his clunk-thudding mechanical serenades.
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.
or Carer Lisa (guessing here, can’t remember who came, really). But the bags had gone later.
were rather 
numerous, which cost me a lot of time.
Almost got caught out again with the new small catheter pouch.
I soon had it sorted out.
Did I mention the tea and porridge?
Or crap parking?
Milky wee-wee?
But I also blame 
! Well, why not?
.
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.
, things could be better!
TTFNski!
Deaf with Dementia?
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Kept guzzling water in hopes that the catheter would not be put back on.
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.
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.
I burnt the pan of tomatoes, cleaned it up and put another can in the pan.
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 on
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I soon realised that the evening catheter pouch was in need of emptying.
Off to the kitchen. lovely view out there this morning. But the wind, when I opened the window, made me glad to be indoors.
IÂ 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. 
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. 
and then got some of the eyes drops in roughly the area of the right eye. (But not a lot).
I visited 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!
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?
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.
So, more hours lost getting nowhere! 
Repeated catheter bag emptying.
Took a snap from the kitchenette window, showing my spare 3-wheeler walker on the balcony.
My bread and butterless meal was thoroughly enjoyed.
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02:30hrs: Woke up for the umpteenth time, but not with 
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, 
.
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.
Tuesday. Yes, I swore at myself rancorously! 
I was so close to taking a Galpharm capsule in mistake for a Senna to help free 
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. 
and I dropped tube, and totally without thinking, I bent down to pick it up 
!
, 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.
had given many more bouts of the shakes this morning than she did all of last week?
Went on WordPress Reader. But it wouldn’t give me access to some sites?
Here are the early morning photographs from the kitchen. I nearly forgot them. Tsk!
Had to keep going for wee-wees regularly throughout the day.
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!
A photo of the half-eaten meal of the day is here on the right. Vegan bacon, tomatoes, Potato Rostis,
arrived at 22:10hrs. I recall the g
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
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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! 
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! 
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 
! And came out of the battle with only a squashed 
! And a rather large 
was gone into!
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!
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.
! As I was reaching at full tilt to get the jumper from the clothes racking, 
presented me with one heck of an 
.
I was not hurting, apart from 
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.
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!.