AcciWhoopsie

WHICH IS CURRENTLY IN A TANGLE
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TODAY
I’m interested in things celestial,
But today, it’s my right leg’s ankle…
And the developing furuncle,
Also, the left kneecap’s carbuncle,
With the boil on my bum, cataclysmical,
Puss drains out, problems cerebral.
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STARMER
It’s time that Starmer abdicated,
Mind you, his lies are articulated,
Labour principles are aborted,
His fibs can all be authenticated,
Pensioners: food cannot be afforded,
It’s time the Fuhrer was audited!
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GULLIBLE
I’m easily conned and dehorted,
Easily get discountenanced,
Being led, dissuaded & dehorted,
Plans cancelled, changed, deleted.
Bullied, dissuaded & deprecated,
Over this problem, I’ve deliberated,
Need liberation, am I denuded?
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ABDUCTION
May I suffer an alien abduction?
Off to a planet with no invitation,
Allowed in, without name verification,
Name? My bus pass my only validation,
I was given a prediction…
Straight out, with no obfuscation…
Everything perishes, utter devastation,
It’ll mean equality for every plebian!
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THE END
Is existence really empirical?
We see what we think is tangible,
Why are we not realistic & practical?
Different views on what is sensible…
Are leaders acting so reprehensible?
Rulers are all epithetical & egotistical,
Wars twixt the different endemical,
We live longer, life’s still ephemeral,
Hell is fire, Heaven is expiable?
Will Christ ever come to be exegetical?
Christian, Muslim, Jew or Evangelical?
Each believes a different Gospel,
Each written by a man it’s impossible,
Town people, Country people,
Tribes people are Earth people,
The date of the end is unavailable,
For most, it will be unbearable,
For all, it will be unpreventable,
St Peter will find us resentable!
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I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE A GREAT IDEA…
I got on with the cleaning that beat me yesterday. I started on the wet room again with a new, unexpected degree of determination.
I could do the ablutions first and clean up first, just in case I drop anything and make a mess. Logic floating about here… I thought!
Emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch, wrapped it and put it in the bin. It was a seven on the NHS scale; the carer judged it for me.
I settled to try and utilise the Porcelain Throne. But did not anticipate the length of time and agony to get the innards contents freed. I was another massive, bum-splitting gigantic torpedo that finally freed itself. Bled a bit, but I felt better after a day and a half of no movement from the bowels. As I was cleaning my rear end, I noticed bubbles coming up from where the torpedo had disappeared. I’d not used any toilet cleaner or bleach yet. I went to the junk room to get Kodak Tim 2, and they were still bubbling away when I got back with the camera and took this photo?

At this stage, I was beginning to lose my enthusiasm for cleaning up. I stripped and started washing the body and delicate areas. All went well.
Then, I got the shaving tackle out, dropped shaving foam, and tried to catch it. I lost my balance and crumpled onto the mop and bucket I’d abandoned there when I felt unwell and gave up.
The painful bit was not being able to get back up.
Serves me right! Humph!.
I had to crawl on my knees, trying not to upset Catheter’s Chloe & Carol or Arthur Itis and being careful not to damage the catheter.
Mission impossible!

I got my muscular, fit, healthy body back up on my feet. But that was the end of my plans to clean the wet room. I wasn’t up to it.

I did a bit on the blog, but Sandra was sending Mini-Seizure and I had to give that up. I momentarily considered going back to the cleaning..

I decided to sit down and recover in the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy, beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Within a minute, Sweet Morpheus accepted my plea, and I drifted into a marvellous sleep and dreamed of Grizelda. The intercom woke me, as the Carer wanted to be admitted. Humph! After Ahram had departed, I tried foolishy to get back to sleep. Really, I wanted to see Grizelda again. No-Go!

Massive Blanks.

I came around or woke up and realised I had not changed the calendar clock yet. Two days now.
So, I changed the clock.

The weather was not good. The cloud was so thick I didn’t see the sun setting at all. No street lights on. Power outage today? And here I was, high in the sky, looking at the darkness, with my lights on to tease those below! Haha!

Very late, I got the meal sorted.
Nordic Bacon and potato chunks.
I put two slices of Milk Roll bread around each chunk of bacon. A lemon curd yoghourt to round it of!
Nice!
The knees are leaking again. I’ll ask the first carer what he thinks about the wound in the morning.
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My Eyes Are Getting Worse – Endless Mistakes!
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Written (started) at 16:15hrs: A terrible night’s sleep again. The computer, bank, medical needs, the camera, TV & remote, a tumble later this morning, Mind-Mangling-Malcolm, Memory-Mashing-May, Glaucoma Gladys, Catheter Cathy’s Pain-giving Contraption, Loss-Balance-Belinda, Back-Pain-Brenda, Mini-Seizures, Earache Erasmus, and Toothache Tiffany are just too much to cope with. That’s not counting the computer problems with Word, Excel, CorelDraw & Trotsky Terence. As I was typing this, the browser started doing I don’t know what, but it took a good half-an-hour before I could use it again, then I had to turn everything off and back on again. which I’d done twice earlier, already having to use Ccleaner twice to get some photos to go… I’m fed up!
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I woke for the umpteenth time, and I saw it was 06:00hrs. Just as the innards warbled at me, and that automatic butt-clenching you do when you know if you don’t get to the WC on time, you’re going to mess yourself! I had no doubt this was the case. I fumbled out of the bed, stubbing my toe, grabbed Four-Pronged Willy, the walking stick, and limped hastily to the wet room.
EMBARRASSMENT – FRUSTRATION -SHAME!
What followed was painful, embarrassing and not a pretty sight! I don’t need to tell you what happened, I’m sure.
I spent minutes nonstop swearing as I sat on the Porcelain Throne, clearing out what little of the evacuated produce was left inside me. Most of it was already down my legs and on the floor! Things actually got worse later!
My anger and shame stopped me from crying!
A mammoth cleaning-up job was started. Me first, then the terribly sulk-making splashes on the furniture and floor were tackled. Using a mop and bucket while using a walking stick is not easy. I did, I thought, have the sense to take my time sorting it out. All clean again, I put the used kitchen towels (two big rolls) into a bag and put them in the large sharps box for disposal in the medical box. Back to the wetroom, and decided to get the ablutions done.

I did my tegggies—well, the few I’ve got left—and as I overreached to get the shaving tackle, I slipped on some disinfectant I’d put on the floor. I grabbed the trolley to keep from going down, brushing my head against the tackle on the top. I actually thought about going into a Smug Mode. I was so proud of myself for not ending up on the floor. I carried on with the shaving. Until I saw the blood coming down my face, I was sure I’d not cut myself with the razors? Down the side of the face, earhole, mouth, chin, and chest. Oh, dearie me!
The blood was coming from the top of my head, and then I realised it must have happened during the tumble.
I got the brute, liberally soaked some kitchen towels with it, and folded them on my head. That’ll stop it, I thought.
It just took a couple of minutes to finish the shaving, and the blood was down on my face and neck again. Well, I thought, this is unusual. The Brut always stops the flow of the shaving cuts. But not this time. I got some plasters and wadding I’d soaked with the Brut. Then I stuck it tightly on where I thought the wound was with the plasters.
Then I did medicationings. Little Inchies fungal lesion ointmentating pain was on a par with my getting the Protection Pants on. The head was not too painful at all. Finally, the wet room was cleaned and sorted!

Got a fresh dressing gown and went into the front room to see how or if the computer would act. My vision was blurred by the blood flowing down again. I realised, by the location of the blood on my hands and the removed dressing, that I’d missed some of the actual wound putting it on. I didn’t realise it was over such a large area. I’ve never had a wound so Bruted before, Hahaha! I could not feel any blood coming through this time. I thought that I’d cracked the problem. I put a woolly bobcap on to keep the pressure on the cut, graze or whatever it was.

Carer P arrived. And when I told P of my farcicalnesses with the ablutioning (not the pooing myself), he looked at it and said it felt dry, and we could take off the dressing now. He asked me first if I’d like him to Peel it off or to Whip it off. I asked for a Whip it off, please!

It bled again, but far less than earlier. Pleasant put another dressing on it for me. Bless him. He rang his controller to ask if the next caller could be made aware and check it for me when they arrived. Nice of him, that!

Then memory problems… me and the computer.
I won’t bore you again with all the details, but I used Norton and Ccleaner thrice to upload some graphics and photos to WordPress. It took me hours, and then I had to upload the files straight away before I ran out of memory again.
Harrumph!

Carer Kimberly came next. She had not been informed about my Accifauxpa by anyone. Fancy that! She kindly checked it for me. It was still bleeding, but barely at all now.
Kimberly put a new dressing in. I think I can take it off tonight. She took a photo of the head before it started bleeding again and put a plaster on it. I’ve been looked after today. I didn’t mention the poo-poo. Whoopsie.
Then I got some more snaps that it wouldn’t let me earlier in the day.
This is the early one I took before my Accifauxpas during the rain.
This was when I refilled the nibble box on the Nurse’s and Carers’ table.
Some new ones in there that they just might like. I hope the nurses will if they come.
A slightly later shot of the local houses, most of which I noticed today, was leaving via Mansfield Road in their cars. Can’t blame them after four people were shot from a vehicle on Winchester Street. Which is about 300 yards from the houses and the flats I live in. The one on the left is a mystery one. No idea why I took it at all.
This is a later shot of the houses I took with the old Kodak camera. I also used it to take the saucepan above left. You can tell by the different-sized pictures.
Cat Shot of the Week!
Sasha is from New Mexico. Tim Price has a family of cats, and they are all beautiful and characterful. Tim says I can use some photos and hopes to put a cat/s of the week photo on this blog weekly. Sasha has always seemed like a thinking cat; her expression is that of a thinker. I love all of them from a distance. Especially the cheese queue photos.

Carer Alu came and looked at the head. It’s getting better already. I am going to make a meal of sorts for myself: baked crispy (I hope) potatoes, tomatoes with basil, yellow peppers, and sea salt, vegetarian sausages, and some Milk Roll bread to soak up the juices. Slurp!

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I hope to be back in the morning.
I took this just before the total darkness fell. I wonder if these are part of the Northern Light colours? I must search Google later.
I got the meal as planned, made it, and served it.
It was terrible-tasting.
I suspect I may have used the wrong seasonings in the tomatoes and sauce. I couldn’t taste any basil at all, but there was another tang to it that I couldn’t recognise and wasn’t too keen on. Tsk! Whatever it was, it ensured one of the messiest-ever dumps in the morning. And a multi-coloured evacuation, from black to beige in varying colours. With mighty super-sticky splashes to clean up, too!
I washed the dishes and took another shot from the kitchen window, this time of a different but gorgeous view. Seconds later, the whole sky went dark.