– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The Carer took shots of the much-improved Vasculitis-Vanessa’s right leg and ankle. Improving nicely now. Although the ankle is still resistant. I decided not to ask the lad to put any squabs or bandages on tonight.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a good meal last night. I gave it a 9/10. As I watched the Brighton v Nottingham Forest FA Cup Match, Sister Jane reminded me of it being on TV when I phoned her. While eating and watching the match, I kept falling asleep. Dagnab it! But the Carer came and woke me up, then the surgery telephoned me. Then the water alarm activated. Then I had to empty the catheter contraption, return to the chair, and doze off while the match was on. I decided to give up. I was just too tired, and I thought I might get a decent night’s sleep in for once. Hahaha!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – >>>>><<<<< >>>>>Starmer Ode No.325¼<<<<< He’s a Scrooge-like abrogator… Cut fuel help for every pensioner, A Labour Party principles nullifier, Ignores the core values of Labour, Fuel and food prices get higher, He takes many an illegal backhander, Proletariats’ futures looking bleaker, Takes the maximum self-paid bonsella, Checking MPs’ expenses is not on his agenda! I worry for Keir’s mental-cenesthesia, As he seeks freebies at his many colloquia, He may not be farceur, but he is farcicaler, Politically, a liar, deluder, and deceiver, A Labour supporters faith-severer, The Labour voters own derogator, What happened to nationalising power? And British Rail’s return… he’s a fibber! He’s Europe’s finest thimblerigger, I would willingly handle his vivisepulture! >>>>><<<<< – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Another repeated waking-up with jumps nights sleep. I had a long verbal and then physical tussle to convince the brain to get the reluctant body out of bed. This took a while and some discomfort.
My mind wandered as I sat there on the Throne. Tomorrow is the Audio Clinic appointment. I must prepare everything needed beforehand. The following shave was a bloodless affair. Yes! Apart from forgetting to put the cream on my ankles, tummy, Germoloid groin, and grapefruit-sized right testicle and apply the eye spray, it all went well. Haha! Oh, I did stop the bleeding , and I used the ultra-stinging Terbinafine to stop the bleeding. Went back in the wet room to olive oil my earholes and other missed medicationalisationings.
The young Caregiver arrived as I was finishing making up the waste bags. No leg bandaging needed. Joe issued the Medications. Then he checked the taps, fridge door, and stove and trotted off.
I turned on the computer and started this blog, then worked on the Ode for Tuesday in Word.
12:45hrs: I finally got the order to transfer, but now the photos are not being moved! I’ll keep trying and surviving, and possibly start crying!
FOOTBALL ON TV The Carer arrived. He said he would look at my emails later tonight. WEIRD SEIZURES: This did not happen due to sudden fatigue. Not a seizure as such. I nodded off and woke repeatedly until 03:15 hrs, when I suddenly woke up and stayed awake. I was in a confused picklement. No memory of a carer calling, but they had been because they’d fitted the nocturnal night bag, and I could taste the Warfarin. The last call, I remember bits of, the diabetic socks coming off, I think I may have dropped the tablets. One was on the carpet when I eventually got up.
Piccies that I managed to save later. Not sure if the day is right. I think it was an afternoon shot, so I must have got up sometime after the fatigue set in. I’m not sure if I got the meals in order.
The Weirdest Day of March! Sensations like never before. The sudden falling of fatiguedness, so few seizures (as I recognise them). I genuinely think I nodded and woke dozens of times throughout the late afternoon, night & morning. I somehow felt only weary, yet not overly tired or exactly poorly. Manifested mightily and toyed with my brain throughout. It was a bizarre, eerie, idiosyncratic, schismatic, almost other-wordly insanity-inviting day! Half in depression – half in la-la land.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – CHOICES– – – – Too much, too little, is there anymore?
Front, side, bedroom, or living room door?
Rich, impecunious, oligarch or poor?
Balerina, Waltzer, or mayhap a bebopper?
Loyal, lover, husband, wife or bedhopper?
Alcho, wino, smoker or a teetotaller?
Perishable, eternal, dead or maternal?
Colchester, Uttoxeter, or Westminster?
Mistake-maker, MP or a grammaticaster?
Veggieburger, beefburger, or Gothenburger?
Mechanical, agricultural, or an inventor?
Alfred, Timothy, Paul, Doug or St. Peter?
Tested, tried, angsted, depressional or infernal? Jailer, janitor, justificator or justifier? Undaunted, heroic, rock-solid or a dodderer? Decisive, determined, a deluder or kowtowerer? Executioner, killer, butcher or a lecher?
Rolls Royce, BMW, Robin Reliant or lawnmower?
Massive, mountainous, mightier, or miniature?
A mover, manoeuvre, monster or misnomer?
Negotiator, nominator, narrator or negator?
An optimiser, organiser, observer or objecter? Procrastinator, profiter or prognosticator? Take a sweetener, gratuity, or a backhander? An aberration, dementia, or cacodemonomania? Presumpter, hypothesiser, or outright liar? Most choices would suit Herr Starmer! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had another night of waking-ups. Danged if I know what was causing the jerking awakes. As far as I know, there were no Eric’s electric shocks up the leg. Anne Gyna didn’t wake me. No Shuddering Shoulder Shirley or PN leg shakes. Can’t remember any movements from Twitching-Neck Nigel, either. It may have been Thought-Storming Steve, but I’d usually remember after he calls on me. Just another of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is causing me to lose my marbles? I’m just crumbling physically & mentally!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I surrendered my thoughts of getting any sleep – yet again, as the worries and concerns of my current position took hold of my brain cells. The needs of the day were pondered over. The Iceland delivery. Ringing the Social Lady about the lack of a laundry service, financial assistance, domestic assistance, and the Prescription routine that I can’t grasp, leaving me short of tablets. I had been hoping to get these services from the new carers. Lovely carers; I would have run out of Warfarin had Akmar not called on his way home at the chemist, who rang the Doctor and issued some, which he brought to me. Thanks, mate! Now, the daunting task of mopping the wet room, washing, and hanging some nightshirts and socks is not easy with Metal Mickey, the four-pronged walking stick, being used simultaneously. It was a blessing & treat that at least was not in attendance. So, I decided to wash some socks and shirts. The dressing gowns are too heavy for me to handle, and despite having about six gowns, five of them are still in the laundry bag, waiting to be taken to the laundry. What I’m going to do, I don’t know! Ringing the chemist and Social Services to plead for help is my only option. Finally, I forced myself out of bed and emptied the nocturnal pouch.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I sorted the laundry bag contents. I took out the socks and long nightshirts, aiming to handwash them and hang them on coat hangers to drip dry. The socks were above the kitchen sink, and the shirts were in the wet room and hung on the shower rail. Three Kagoules on the shower rail, and then I went back to the kitchenette to get the socks done and hung, in the kitchen sing. On my way back, the left hand started with ‘cramps’, with Arthur Itis joining in when I returned to the kitchen. It was so painful, and it looked well-gnarled to me. I took a photograph of the hand. I’m not used to so much hand-wringing. I think that was probably the cause of the bother. Next, I had the pleasure of struggling with the Yoahoules and ended up with cramps and Arthritis in my left hand from all the wringing out. I got all three finished. I might add that it was, putting it lightly, painful. Hehe!
I got them hung up in the wet room on the shower rails. I don’t think I can cope with this handwashing. Well, I can, I suppose, but it’s not the easiest of jobs. At one stage, I had a mini seizure and got water over the sink, floor, and me! In three days, they will have to be done again. Using the immersion heater to dry the clothes must be costing me a fortune. Humph! at the very thought of it. I rang the NCC Social to point out what I’m struggling with. I got a recorded message: This number is temporarily out of order. Fancy that, me being unlucky! Humph!
Then, I had to clean up the mess from the spilt water, during which I splashed a little more, and the Water Alarm activated. I didn’t get a call from NCC Control, so I assumed it was because their phones were out of action. I just have to keep smiling and have a glimmer of hope in my heart! Grottleburgers &Huh!
I’m EPO now. Extremely Pissed Off!
I made a brew of Glengetti and dunked a large cookie while looking out the window and feeling sorry for myself. I’m doing a lot of that lately. And has still not visited me yet, today. Just an extended spell of several hours of . Grumph!
A house below in the view was pumping out steam or smoke. It didn’t last long, though. Steam, I think, cause it evaporated quickly, as it shows in the picture. I thought I’d taken another shot of the been-done-up house.
But can I find it? No!
ICELAND FOOD ARRIVED.
Many items are not available, but it is a Monday. The driver took the bags into the kitchen for me. Cleaning paraphernalia. Another insane Inchy glitch!
The cakes were part of a special of 5 for £5.
I thought I’d ordered only one and four other items. Another Inchy Whoopsiedangleplop there!
The six bags of Cheez-Its were stored away.
Great news. The clock calendar has got to cyber-friend Tim in Albuquerque. He sent this photo via email. I’m so glad he liked it. About time I could do something for him. Instead of the other way.
I repeatedly tried to reach NCC Social Care in the afternoon, but the phones were still down.
So I called the prisons… I mean, the flats ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Deana. , who kindly told me to ring back later if I couldn’t get through. I couldn’t get through two more times, so I rang her back. After explaining my concerns, she kindly said she would try another line and rang me back an hour later.
But I got it wrong somewhere along the line, and it was the Carer Company that she rang. So I still need to let the Social lady know tomorrow.
The lady told Deana that the laundry, domestic, and Financial assistance are all known to the caregivers, and the ones today knew nothing about them.
So, I’ve got to carry on hand washing until someone tells the carers. Still, these things must happen when they are hastily called to take me on. I’m not sure how they will manage them during the duration of their ten-minute calls. No doubt things will get sorted eventually. I’m just getting more profoundly in the poo with the bank and tax letters, the laundry, and the medications routine I need to do. No, the Carer’s boss said they are to do the medications; again, they (the Caregivers) know nothing about this. It may come out alright eventually or drive me to suicide… you decide. Hehehe! Only joking! If anyone wants to buy five dirty dressing gowns and a laundry bag, I can supply them with softener and laundry capsules at a fair price. Haha!.
I really must get something to eat now.
As Arnie said, “I’ll be back!” Har-har!
I snapped the meal, but it was not on the card or Camera Tim 2. It seemed to have somehow ended up in the ether again.
Photo from earlier. Can you see the octopus?
I spoke with Carer Ahmed about the problem with the tasks I’m paying for not being done. We agreed that the medications I did last Monday would be taken over by him, and the chemist would be contacted each Monday starting next Monday. I will ask him if he can call the chemist if he calls while they are open so I can clarify what exactly needs to be done datewise, etc., and the timings.
I think we might be getting somewhere here.
It was very late by the time I got my head down for yet another ever-waking-up night’s lack of sleep.
I’d not had a shower or shave, and this blog has much left to do. Tomorrow, it will be another late finishing time, likely in the afternoon. But no blame is being passed to anyone. The two carers who said they did not know of the Financial, domestic, or laundry requirements seem decent chaps. They are time-constrained. Is that the right word?
Once things are clarified, I expect the Carers to start running more smoothly when we all know what’s what and arrange things so they have the time to get things done. I pray! Fingers crossed.
Tomorrow will be even busier, so less will be done on Tuesday’s blog. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – HELP FOR ALL! – – – There’s usually a thought worth thinking… Until a problem arrives, more demanding, Though factors currently depending… On seriousness, practicality & spending, Earlier plans may need synchronising, The original idea may need some tweaking… Options left available may leave you seething, Chances of success may be receding? Can you see where this ode is leading? Your intentions may be beyond solving, But you’ve got me sympathising, You must be realising… I do not want to be scaremongering, Needs, desires, once so promising, Hopes at birthing, now get a pulverising, If possible, they need reorganising, These failures will be nauseating, Indeed, hellacious, repugnant & maddening, No need for any self-admonishing… Just come see Inchy; it’ll not be distressing… We’ll share a chinwag, I’ll have you laughing, I’m pretty good at motivating… You’ll feel better after our 12-hour boozing! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:20hrs: I awoke from the broken sleep night. However, each time I shot awake, mainly due to , I was soon back in the land of Nod after every awakening. I reckon, in total, I must have had around six hours in the land of bliss! The longest night’s sleep for weeks! Great! 👍🏻
Then things started to get farcical! The J Sainsbury order email said they would deliver between 0858 and 0958. However, the intercom did not ring, and Carer Chloe, who made the first call, made her domestic call around 1000. I mentioned the JS order, and she later rang JS for me after discovering that the intercom was not working. JS said they tried to deliver to me at 0945hrs but got no reply. They will be delivering again tomorrow between 12 and 1300 hrs. Chloe informed Warden Julie and asked if she could check the condition of my intercom. Julie, on her own with the three blocks of flats to look after, said she would try to find time today. But it’s now gone at 16:00 hrs, so I imagine the gal is too busy. Oh, dearie, me! Even if Julie makes it today, there will still not be time to get a repairman out in time for the expected rearranged delivery. I must be downstairs in the Woodthorpe Court’s main lobby from 11:45 to 1300hrs, minimum, in the morning. Which could be even dodgier, as the Cardiac nurse is due to call, and I may miss her while I’m in the lobby – not that I could hear her on the non-working intercom anyway. Also, the financial carer support is due around the same time! The cheesy cobs, sliced bread, and the flowers for Julie and Jenny will have been in the JS bags for 18 hours and bashed about, no doubt, being delivered misshaped and or crushed. This means they will have to be frozen in stale condition. What will they taste like later? God knows! Would you believe it? DVT Warfarin haematology Nurse Hristin just rang me to tell me she will also be coming to see me tomorrow! Arghh! But that’s no problem, having the kindest, most helpful nurse I’ve ever had calling on me. 💘
Carer Sam arrived for the noon visit/check. I told her of the farcical JS delivery, the intercom not working, and exactly how I felt. Depressed and utterly fed up with life and not getting enough help with things! Oh, I was low!
Back to earlier. (I’ve little concentration now) Feeling sorry for myself, and that’s not me.
Carer Chloe graded the morning’s nocturnal pouch as colour 7 on the NHS card. I paid the Porcelain Throne a visit for a good half-hour. If not longer! Constipation Conrad was in an unmoving state of mind. Despite my painful efforts to encourage the evacuation by various means, things remained motionless! Why I thought the many groans I gave out would help, I don’t know. Eeeowargh! U, Uh, Eek, Ahahaha!, and at one stage, a few pathetic tear-producing whimpers, too!
The morning sky was back to its blue hue today. The low clouds can be clearly defined in this photograph.
Then, I raised the camera to take a higher-in-the-sky shot.
Somehow or other, I had not noticed what I assumed to be the moon while taking this snap. It looked too bright to be the moon. I am puzzled as to what it was if not, though?
The wet kitchenette floor after Chloe left the flat. She also cleaned the new oven for me, bless her cotton socks. She left to try to see Warden Julie about the intercom not working for me.
Afternoon shots of the dwellings around Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Then a wider shot of the loft drug growers area to the left of the window.
I went to WordPress Reader and then to the comments page.
Sudden darkness befell!
You may not believe it, but within minutes of taking this, the sky lit up when somehow the sun burst through on its Sunsetting mission. Luckily. I’d still got the camera out and caught a couple of shots of the sun setting. A wide shot, the top one. Pretty really! I zoomed in to get a close-up. Strangely, this one came out alright, too.
The next job was to get something to eat. Which I did. Nice enough. But with no bread delivered thanks to this morning’s Inchy-Whoopsiedangleplops, happening. All the mishaps, and I mean this, folks… None of them were my fault! I was unable to get any help with getting the Intercom repaired. I can no longer hear when the nurses or deliveries arrive! Warden Julie is alone, looking after three blocks of high-rise flats. So, no blame on her. She didn’t arrive to look at the intercom, but I expected this. This leaves me in a pickle when the District nurses, Cardiac nurse, Social Lady and as for the JS order, I must get a wash & shave and go down to the main foyer to await the arrival of what will be then dried, squashed bread and rolls, flowers etc. being delivered! I’ve also got to be downstairs for the arrival of the Warfarin Nurse Hristina. Otherwise, she cannot get in to take my blood. No idea what time the Cardiac Nurse is coming, but you can bet she’ll not be able to gain access!
Carer Promise arrived. I told him of today’s farcicalnesses. Well, it gave him a laugh, if nowt else.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – SO FAR THIS YEAR… A camera goes blotchy on me, and another gives up the ghost!
The cooker/stove packs up on me. My Glaucoma op is cancelled.
Catheter Contraption Calamities galore! No banking details yet.
Toothache Tiffany returns. Anne Gyna is now at her worst ever!
Both Cartilage Chloe & Carol have had me over repeatedly! The average sleep per night is currently at 2.5 hours!
Sandra’s Seizures are getting far worse! Boils on my bum!
Twitching Neck Ted & Thought Storming Steve regular! I left the hot water tap running 82 times in January!
Computer, CorelDraw, MS, & Prescription problems. Eyesight is getting worse as each day progresses.
Depression is no longer a rarity; it’s now permanent. Misshearing on the phone, causing cock-ups. Norovirus Flu seems to be lingering for a long time? Now, the intercom in the flats is broken. Food and prescription deliveries cannot be made, and nurses cannot gain access. Can’t get any help! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I am struggling all around, losing ground… Things going wrong… others compound, Frustration: I’ve gritted my teeth and frowned… The end is high; I’ll be bound! I’m sick of being flatbound. The sanity I once foreowned… Has departed, and I’m all alone, With help, my confusion to unconfound… For solutions to confusion, I toss around, But my brain is now thought-barren ground, Ever more problems to confound… Will I take them with me to my burial ground? Frustrations are just grinding me down! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – KEEP SAFE, FOLKS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Humankind, the epitome of entanglement, Each human individually so different, Some are passive, some violent, some truculent… Oligarchs, politicians, proletariats, the ignorant, Some of us struggling to pay for heating & rent! : : : : : The depressed, who are glad life is impermanent, The poor, without clean water, living in a tent, The guilty: defiant, obdurate, unrepentant, The lying greedy shower in Parliament, Those mentally challenged & obmutescent! : : : : : The law-abiders, who are so obedient, Who’ve mostly had enough, who go acquiescent… No one listens to their problems, they grow conticent, The rich, addicted, drugged and crapulent… The ‘Oh, so lonely’, and impuissant! : : : : : The ashamed, who brandish a mock insouciance, The fearful, that live in a state of presentiment… Stewing inside with injustice & resentment, Outwardly displaying mock-contentment, Their hopes & desires are only ruminant! : : : : : The aged, growing more gloomy and depressant, They forget things, making them more inconscient, Those without catheters may become incontinent, Their life’s meaning turns intervenient, Their faith is long lost, & physical pains are recrudescent! : : : : : The Grim Reapers call will not be inconvenient! Dementia, dodgy bladder, Cognitive Impairment, Using the Porcelain Throne can be sanguinolent, I can no longer afford to get myself temulent, Starmer did me in, stealing my winter fuel payment! : : : : : I don’t often find myself pitifully verklempt… What chance of my body and brain’s renascence? I often go off track, lose the plot and scent… Forget what I’m doing, hoped for, done, or my intent… For years, my body has been going putrescent, Mentally, I suffer daily pesterment, I’ll leave this Ode as my testament! : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t wake up this morning; it was another unfortunate night of no sleep. Well, I did get one hour in! 04:00hrs: I gave up the dream of any sleep and rest, removed the Nocturnal Catheter pouch, and decided to get my ablutions sorted out. Which had a few interesting aspects to it. Don’t they all, you ask? Hehe! I finished the ablutions early, just in case I fell asleep later. Why I should think that baffled me after three nights and four hours of sleep. It is probably why I feared nodding off—as if I could!
I amassed all that was needed and got them in the wet room. The main thing I noticed was no calls to the Porcelain Throne. I couldn’t sleep or evacuate. Then , kicked off as I got my feet into the bowl to stand in and soak them. I’d hung a long shirt on the shower rail when I entered, and as I’d wet the neck and face in preparation for the foam to be applied, the shirt slipped off the hanger and dropped over my head! For a second, I thought, ‘Hello, I’m dead’! Not that it bothered me. But I did see the funny side of it. Haha! When I’d sorted myself out and rehung the shirt, I realised I’d left the hot tap running, and the water had gone lukewarm! So, I had no choice… well, I did. I could leave the ablutions and return later, or do what I did and get the kettle on for the shaving. That was a little risky, carrying hot water in one hand, the walking stick in the other, and offering a prayer that neither Cartilage decides to collapse on me. Peripheral Neuropathy Pete didn’t give me a leg dance, and Dizzy Dennis didn’t visit. Yet I coped surprisingly well with the ailments (apart from ) all being kind to me. Yes! After what seemed an age, I finally got on with the shaving, and… I did not spill any water on myself. ! I also carried out this task without a single cut or knick!
The medicationalisation of the tender areas did not go well. The groin area had been bleeding and dried on the few hairs left there. I had to clean things with a little more gusto to remove it. (I imagine you know what’s coming next). After getting the Barrier cream onand feeling out how big and sore the Spanish onion-sized right testicle was, I moved the top holding strap, sadly pulling at the Catheter tube overmuch, and the bleeding started afresh! I did not see any humour in this! I antisepticised and cleaned the left area again. While doing this, I thought there seemed to be a large amount of little spots of blood on the tissues, and it dawned on me that Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was now bleeding as well! I got things sorted. Then the eyes, ears, belly and knees were medicated and back to the computer. Took a swig of cough medicine, an extra tablet, and a Codeine.
I took a morning snap of the kitchenette view. I wasn’t such a green colour this morning out there. A brown tinge rather than a blue one, too!
After a long while of trying to get CorelDraw to stop freezing on me, I needed to go back to the kitchen and wet room to check that I’d not left any lights, heaters, or taps running. All appeared okay. Interestingly, when I entered the wet room, the hangar that I knew I’d hung back up on the shower curtain rail after getting the shirt & dressing gown on was back on the floor. Is this part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, or whatever, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, which is losing its marbles? Hehehe!
I was heavily into doing the day’s ode, and Carer Richard arrived. I asked how he was. He looked well-tired but said little conversation-wise. He didn’t even tell me off about anything this morning. So, I knew he was not in a good place—bless him! He did let me make him a mug of strong tea, though. This morning, he fitted both leg brackets and the long crutch.
I worked on yesterday’s blog and am getting it posted early today. Whatever was bugging CorelDraw earlier stopped for a couple of hours. Ten minutes ago, it was back again. Grrr!
After Carer Chloe called, I remembered I’d forgotten to ask her to replace the day catheter. I blame Doreen Dementia!
I’m going to get something to eat now.
No, I’m not; I’ll wait until the Carer Comes and ask him/her to fit the Catheter Day Bag, which should have been done last Friday. Carer Promise came later, fitted it for me, and made a good job of it. Finally, the pain and pulling of having a new top strap eased the pain. Carer Promise took a photo of myself to use in a later blog post. Thanks, Promise.
Now, I’ll try to get a meal made.
While the chips were cooking, the cheesey-topped cobs were sliced, no-butter buttered. Smoked cheese slices were added. And readied for chips to be added. Pickled onions, chips, and a pot of lemon yoghourt were put on the tray. I wiped the oven tray and settled to watch ‘Heartbeat’ on the TV while eating this tasty meal!
Partway through, Carer Promise arrived. He removed my diabetic socks. The lad adjusted the day cather contraption and added the nocturnal bag.
I had a feeling that tonight, I would get some sleep in. Of course, I wasn’t sure; when was I ever certain of anything?
Well, it took a while, but Sweet Morpheus did arrive. A few jumping awake episodes, but I reckon I got over 6-hours of sleep in. Yes! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Now HMG oozes sycophantishlier, Starmer, the hater of the farmer… Robber of every pensioner, Ever ready to take a backhander, A well-proven by-omission expert liar, Self-Wealth being his main desire, What’s he doing in Labour? He’d make a better dictator… His compassion is in absentia, Labour values, he does besplatter, With Oligarch’s, he’s getting chummier, He seems a qualified puppetmaster, Like Goebbels, he’s good at propaganda, As he leads the UK to disaster! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night! The Bug is Back. Influenza Norovirus. Sore throat, chesty cough with the odd painful sneeze here and there. Wheezing, aches & pains of the joints. Runny nose and eyes.
04:00hrs: Gave up trying to sleep and got up. Feeling so weary, achy and confused at the same time. I soon felt the pain from the weighty, overfull day pouch tugging at Little Inchy when I got out of bed. Last night, I felt even more confused and realised that the Diabetic socks had not been removed, and the Nocturnal Catheter Pouch had not been attached.
Not a good start to the day. (Little change here, then!)
Computer on, finished yesterday’s short blog and posted it.
Made a tentative start on this blog. Noticing that the stomach cramps were getting worse as the time passed. Humph!
An instant demand from the innards had me scuttling to the wet room to get to the water closet in time to avoid the assessed coming of an involuntary evacuation… I didn’t make it in time! What a frustrating affair! It took me ages to clean up. It was such a messy, smelly, sticky evacuation. Red-Face-Engaged!
Carer Richard arrived. I knew he’d been off work, but I thought it was just because of the flu, but he mentioned his accident at home. He fell backwards, hitting the back of his head on the washing machine door and knocking it off. Waking up hours later, covered in blood! Concussed. Poor lad, he appears to be as lucky as I am, which is not lucky, of course, well, not good luck.
I’m still doing better in the Health Check returns this week.
But sleep, or rather the lack of it, that’s another issue that defeats me. This afternoon, just like last week, I felt so drained that I attempted to use all my experience to try and get some!
I ate some battered fish balls to settle my stomach. Put the TV on, usually one guarantee of nodding off, and sat 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. With my feet up on the chair, the recliner does not work.
Four hours later, I was still wide awake and yet desperately needed sleep. I was pondering over whether I should move onto the hospital bed.
The door chime chimed out – It was Frank, Jenny’s husband. He bought a camera for me to use from Jenny. ♥ I was immediately off into a worried mode that it might go wrong while I had it. Thanked him for Jenny. We had a lovely little laugh about things we were suffering with. Frank has only just got over the Flu Novavirus himself. So kind of them. And Tim Price, my cyber-mate in New Mexico, has said he will send me a new Kodak camera to use. I’m being well cared for here. Bless them!
Carers Selina and Simon made the subsequent calls. I laid on the bed, lights out, and the curtain drawn. I got plenty of lethargy, languor, and listlessness but no sleep!
So, I started updating this blog.
Photographs taken today: Puffer clouds. Afternoon sunburst. Sunset. Sunset zoomed-in. Not a good one, but the moon. Evening all! Not used to the camera yet. (Excuse! Hehe!)
I made next week’s food order. J Sainsbury this time. Tuesday 4th February 6>10a.m.
I went on WordPress Reader, did the ablutions and put my head down. The TV failed to get me to sleep.
Finally, I started to drift off a few times, but each time, I’d wake with a helluva jerk and jump, shooting to the right, creaking & cracking the neck.
I gave up at 04:10hrs and meandered into the kitchen to take photos. None of which were up to par. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – We waited so long for a Labour HMG saviour, What do we end up with? Dishonest Starmer, He amassed himself £102,000, by gift & freebie, Gets caught out as a cheat & and a by omission liar, Then, the git decided to rob every pensioner,
Moves on to tax increases for every farmer, Before was Blair New Labour, Thatcher, the warer, Both had faults, but neither were poorer… Then Starmer, the Labour beancounter, Here’s my chance to be a bit of an auger, He’ll end up being a greater disaster…
Pensioners eat or heat on bread & butter…
Keir, the bystander, babbler, baffler, bamboozler, The future has never looked dimmer… He’s allowed a 50% rise in the cost of a Zimmer! I wonder what they gifted him for a backhander? But what options are there for the elector? Conservatives, no, Rishi was their suicider, What would be phantasmagorical… Is it possible for him to read this little Ode… oracle? Will he get the message? He is pretty academical,
Unfortunately, he’s also ungainsayable,
A stream of compassion is easily wadable.
Not to take it is cruel and wackadoodle.
More complex for him is the path to turning veridical,
Is his urge for backhanders & lying unrestrainable?
His actions, to date, have been totally unmollifiable,
For a Labour leader, it is astounding and indefensible.
Anything he says now, after so many lies, is unbelievable, – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – During the election, Labour promised they would cut energy bills for good. Labour announced proposals to “set up Great British Energy, a publicly-owned clean power company”, and in the run-up to the election, prominent Labour politicians claimed that this would cut bills by up to £300 a year. What has happened: On January 1, the latest Energy Price Cap came into effect; this is the second time energy bills have risen despite an explicit promise by the government to cut energy bills – another broken promise for which we are now paying very dearly for the price raise!
What has happened: Recently released figures show the number of small boat arrivals has increased since Labour came to power. Between July 5 and December 31 2024, there were 35,242 arrivals by small boat, 33.4% more than in 2023.
Keir Starmer told the country they could trust Labour’spromises not to raise taxes and not to unleash a borrowing spree. In the House of Commons on October 9 this year, he said, ‘’e made an absolute commitment not to raise taxes on working people. Rachel Reeves said a rise in National Insurance was a tax purely on working people. What actually happened: Labour have done just that and more. They fiddled with the fiscal rules, increased borrowing by billions of pounds, and raised taxes on businesses – which they have now admitted will leave working people worse off. The Office of Budget Responsibility said an increase in employer National Insurance will be passed onto workers.
Keir Starmer, Steve Reed, and the Labour Party told farmers that Labour respects them, protects their livelihoods, and promises not to change agricultural property relief for farmers. The CLA conference was reported in the FT on December 23. What actually happened? In the 2024 Autumn Budget, Labour broke its promise to farmers by reducing the relief and imposing inheritance tax rates on farmland. This will devastate family farms and seriously threaten domestic food security and prices.
Amongst LaLabour’sudget of broken promises, Labour has made the political choice to target family farms, and the consequences will be felt by thousands of farms and families across the country. In Yuan YaYang’s election campaign in July 2024 – she said she wanted to help people with fuel bills and keep homes warm with an insulation plan. What happened: On September 10, 86 days after the election, Yuan Yang, our MP, voted to scrap the pensioner’s winter fuel allowance with Starmer’support. Pensioners expected help with heating costs; they didn’t expect the removal of their winter fuel allowance. Yuan Yang, Starmer and Labour taking money from the vulnerable again! But let’s try to be fair to the pensioner-robber & killer, He may have a mental issue with which he’s not acquainted. Oligarchishness, backhander-addiction, or distempered? Cognisance Impairment makes your brain shackled, Getting caught lying may have been upsetting? A mental illness? I’I’veot 3, most maddening, He constantly shows a poker face… emotionless. I’d like to help him: my mate’s an acupuncturist? He walks with a limp, so may he have gout? He never listens to advice. Does he need an audiologist? Is he demon-possessed, in need of a psychiatrist? To help him to keep his promises & guarantees, That psychiatrist failed; he needs to be ditched! MPs sit away from Keir in Parliament; have you noticed? This was advised to them by StStarmer’sastrologist, Bet he has a neurologist, & a neuroradiologist, I manage with my GP, last seen on October 5, I’ll see her again before I die; I’m an optimist… Although I may be a little over-ambitious, It’s bout 10 weeks to see my Neurosurgeons, Have I enough to backhand them… To make Doreen Dementa scram? Just in case you read this, Starmer… And I die under the knife and hammer… I’m no liar, and I can assure you, Starmer… I’I’lle your spiritual habituér, I’I’llring a bottle of the black death… To sneeze & spill all over you! So please don’t die before you are due… I want my revenge; it’ll be long overdue! Did I mention my hatred for Starmer? ThThis’sy pirlicue. I FANK YOU! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TERRIBLE NIGHT – CONFUSING MORNING – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another Sleepless Night. It has to stop!
Be it Influenza, Norovirus or Stomach Flu, it ain’t nice. I’ve been lucky not to get colds and flu. I’ve had all three jabs. But it’s obviously got me this time. A buildup of phlegm and mucus in the throat and chest. Aches and pains in all my joints. And after several years without as much as a single headache. I’I’vead a cracker for three days now with no relenting. Nausea and talk about stomach rumblings and grumblings… although, to be fair, they are not unusual for me. At least, and last, the altering alternating evacuation modes have all been under Trotsky TeTerence’sontrol since I copped this bug. Constipation Conrad can’t get a look in. Hehe! So, on the bright side, HaHarold’s haemorrhoids are not bleeding anywhere near as badly as they were. I’d like to think the same about Little Inchie Fungal lesion, but the Cather tube is giving me pain more than ever now. I must bend down to release the catheter day bag clip and empty it every time. Then, of course, today, the right testicle is growing again for some reason. It might be on its way to matching last year’s spanish-onion-sized. Tender!
Then there’s Pensioner-Killer-Starmer. How the hell has he not been dethroned, prosecuted or assassinated? Even the Tories said they would keep the winter fuel aid. And they did! Then came Backhander-taking Keir Starmer, the hater of every voter, proletariat, street sleeper, worker, Farmer and Pensioner. He is enough to make any mortal sick.
Anyway, I’d been lying on the bed for six hours, praying to get to sleep. But no! So I got out of bed and into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, Catheter-tube-trapping recliner. I still thought I might yet get some sleep. But No! I was aching all over, inside and out. The blood from the throat, blow my nose, blood on the tissue. Only specs of it, mind you. Then, the odd sneezing bouts started. Now, these were scary. I was still not feeling tired. Worn out, yes!
Grindingly slowly, time moved on. I sat there, with the coughs, sneezes, and painful pouch emptying keeping me company.
Had I not been so weary, I’I’dave gone to get the ablutions done. I thought about it a few times, but my body disagreed. Suddenly, I realised the time. I’d be sat there for hours! And it was 0750 already. Guilt and needing the Porcelain Throne forced me to drag my aching body and attachments to the wet room. I was lucky I hadn’t delayed things cause the moment I’d removed the dressing gown and lifted my nightshirt (You can’t touch me for that, Hehehe!) The Trotsky Terence evacuation flooded out. I think I was lucky. Back to the aged, grotty-looking c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, HarHarold’semorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. I think I felt a bit sorry for at this time. I had a few rapid . Which threw me off kilter. It was now gone eight o’clock and a Carer been, and I was in a seizure and couldn’t member the visit? I then remembered the surgery ringing me with the new Warfarin dosages last night. So, I wrote them out from the notepad and put them in the CarCarer’sg cover. I checked to see if anyone had filled it in the log. But, no! I settled back down in the second-hand shop bought nine years ago for £300, c1966 made, discomfiting, alarmingly beige-coloured, crumb-containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner. The aches and pains, not the usual ones, the neck, chest, stomach, & joints got worse. as I sat there awaiting the Carer to call. I anticipated they may be late, but having three staff off poorly makes getting cover from other sites difficult. I added some juice to two bottles of spring water and started gulping it down. I was slowly coming out of the seizure… Or so I thought. But you know how lucky I am. Huh! I put the TV on, hoping it may help me to nod off. But no!
At about 10:00 hrs, there was no Caregiver, so I forced myself to use the computer. Not that my mind was ready or willing to use it. And headaches, especially behind my eyes, returned.
At the same time, the gurgling and rumbling from my innards suggested that I get back to the post Haste! So, I did! Trotsky Terence was still in command, but the colour had changed. It had a distinctive metallic whiff or pong that accompanied the evacuation procedure. And it lingered. I used the fresh air spray.
I returned to the computer; I could not concentrate as I had anticipated. However, I did add a few decent lines to the start of today’s Ode.
At about 10 minutes to 12, Carer Sam arrived. She checked the taps on leaving. The morning carer had not arrived. I made no fuss about it.
I then returned to the computer and surprisingly began to get along well with the Odeing. It was long, and I had to verify everything I mentioned about the murderer ‘He’r Starmer’!
Was joined by , stopping me from doing anything else on the blog. On the bright side, I think the phlegm and sore throat were all a little easier this evening. So this cheered me up more than it should have because within minutes of writing this, it made me eat my thoughts and words, and she took over as my Master-Pain-Mangler for the rest of the day, well, evening. This got me concerned over the lack of medication available for easing . I’ve mentioned the problem to every Carer since I found out a few days ago. But no one is advising me or informing me. I dipped into a self-centred depression and decided to see if I could try to get some sleep-catching up done. I got down into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working recliner to watch an episode of my favourite, ‘Heartbeat’, ‘n the TV and eat the meal.
Carer Simon called a little earlier than usual, but he had been drafted in again from his own place of work. I mentioned the shortages of my Angina medications again. I felt sorry for the Carers. With three off work, it’s no wonder they don’t have time to advise or help me. However, putting the Liberty-Global Virgin Media TV on was frustrating. Still, I got there in the end… and within a minute, had nodded off into La-La land, and it was great, lovely; after three nights of sleeplessness, minutes later, the water alarm sounded in the kitchen. But I heard it, so I had to get up and check things out. Then the telephone landline rang. It was The NCC control room about the alarm. After further investigating why the alarm had activated, I noticed the washing-up liquid bottle was almost empty. I had a leak that ran over the counter and down onto the alarm box on the floor. Humph!
Sugar & Surreptitious Sodnesses! I was attacked by two of my beloved ailments at the same instant. (again) & . That was the end of my memories of the night.
I do recall ordering some cough medicine.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Tomorrow Will Be A Better Day. Who am I kidding?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Now I am worried. When I checked this blog, I found 157 errors! I have no doubt I missed some. My eyesight is blurry. How the hell did I do so many things wrong? It might have been unrecognised mini-seizures. It’s not boding well!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I could never do a headstand, I’ve never had a house husband, I did once get stuck in the heathlands, Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, I found a hairband on my hatstand?
I was confused, not worried, I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid, Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed, No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid? More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…
The computer was acting like an invalid, So many problems I was fumid, I’m giving up now; it makes me sick. There must be someone who can help me a bit… I’ve got no teeth left to grit,
On my second night without sleep or rest, Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist, Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.
The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous, The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us… Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding, I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.
The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, The sore throat hurt so much when coughing, It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!
After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous, This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.
I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼
I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired? This bug is a bugger!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – REMEMBERING Do You… Remember the comfort & luxury of home life as a nipper? The Kodak Brownie box camera? The black & white photo booths all over? Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa? Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower? Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder? Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular? Or even more appealing was Rita, who was far more cuddlier,
I desired her so (sob) but never got a date with her! Remember the 1955 number-one hit. ‘Let me go, lover’? Sang by sexpot Teresa Brewer? She wisely didn’t answer my letter! Recall the Ration Book, weekly; bacon and ham 4oz; 4oz of butter, loose tea 4oz; sugar 8oz; meat one shilling-worth; cheese 1oz; preserves 8oz a month! Then biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk, canned and dried fruit joined the list. Babies, pregnant women and the sick were allocated additional food items such as milk, orange juice and cod liver oil. Domestic coal was rationed to 15 hundredweight yearly in London and 20 hundredweight for those in the north. Clothing was rationed using a point system. This allowed for approximately one new outfit per year but was reduced steadily until buying a coat used up almost a year’s supply of clothing points. Clothing became utilitarian: pleats and turn-ups disappeared from trousers, and garments were plain. Women painted gravy browning on bare legs to replace silk stockings and painted black lines at the back to simulate the seams! Food rationing worsened after the war due to the country’s badly damaged economy. Bread rationing began for the first time in late 1946; the bacon ration halved in October, and potatoes were rationed in November. The Standing Committee on Medical and Nutritional Problems was concerned about those who had to live on their rations and lacked access to canteen or restaurant meals. The Ministry of Health decided to help with assistance with shopping, cooking and providing meals on wheels. Rationing ceased in May 1954,
During & after the war, Spivs, black-marketeers Galore,
Nottingham prosecuted 2,400, elsewhere more! Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir? The coal house, the yard gate, and more? The wooden lid? Bum splinters that were sore? The discomfort of a freezing winter? No toilet paper, but cut-up newspaper? The cistern would freeze after December? Lighting a candle or lamp, you had to remember! No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser. Unaffordable for the Inchy geezer. The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer? Boiling water on the stove and on the coal fire? Getting mine last was a bit of a harrumpher… Cleaning out the other’s dirt, scurf & seborrhea! DC electric shocks, with a ‘let-go” threshold high? Compared to AC, is it likely to knock you over or fly? But more people getting AC shocks die. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t keep much of a diary today. I spent so long trying to find pictures for my Memory Ode, but I didn’t have a camera this morning, so I had to use something from the file or web.
I returned to this facsimile of life at 05:15hrs. Got the scrub-up and shaving done. Then ablutions & medicationings were completed. Trotsky Terence Porcelain’s visit was made without any premature evacuational movements. Phew!
I started the ode, and seven hours later, I finished it. (I’m not joking; my concentration was all over the place.) However, the ailment has been fair to me up to now. I’m not able to say that very often! Although the struggle with getting the right pictures from the web and files may have been part of the problem, it seems to have appeased some of my ailments?
During the Ode workings, Carer Chris visited me, and then Carer Joanne visited again. We had a little natter and a laugh about our current problems.
Between this activity, I put one large potato in the slow cooker. I walked into the wet room door, another should-charge job; was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off and , but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having! As for the past 4 or 5 days, is still on form. I forgot to ring the Doctor about asking for some under-tongue dissolving medication, but it’s too late in the day now, and of course, with the weekend coming, I can’t do anything about it. Not until Monday, when most likely the only thing I’ll do is forget to make the call again. Huh! Nowadays,life continues like this; Never-ending returning circles, tangents and variations of failures, errors, forgetfulness, mysterious episodes of utter confusion (unrecognised seizures possibly?), with rare but precious dabblets of contentment, verging on happiness. The feared visits of unreasonable sadness, self-anger, & self-disgust, almost a loathing sometimes. But not yet today. This may be why I just flooded out my feelings. Is it as if I’ve only just realised what is going on?
Yet help & solutions are elusive.
Even talking to myself (I do an awful lot of that), my queries, questions and even my own answers or decisions I know are evasive, not logical or practical. Conceivably inenarrable. Confidentless and doomed not to be done and to fail even if they are attempted. Taking all the things I’ve just written & read above, I now see with clarity one word that I’d missed. Bonkersness! What a load of talking nineteen to the dozen, prattling, gabbling twaddle! I’ve lost it! Hehehe! If anyone can understand it, please let me know.
I’m going to check on the potatoes now…
No, not ready yet. I hope the Carer doesn’t call while I’m eating. The spuds will get cold, and the potato skin will go hard and hurt my teggies. Hehe!
Well, the potato skins went hard and hurt my teggies. Not considering the pain from the gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted. I settled with the TV on, and at my first bite of a pickled mushroom, Carer Chris arrived—not that it spoiled the meal in any way. I cooked the lad a chicken pattie in the microwave; it only took two minutes, and he scoffed it down with a drink of lemonade. Well, he was tired and hungry. Hehe! Help with the camera loan was much appreciated. The poorly-poo Kodak will be examined on his days off. Fingers Crossed!
Sleep came so quickly. But thanks to the occasional jerking from , I seemed to be shooting awake every few minutes – it probably wasn’t that often, but it felt like it was in the morning. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hasta la vista!
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– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Are you insalubrious, a drunk, or insidious?
Should one be a warmonger or a pacifist?
Would you believe an Oligarch or astrologist?
Do you need an allergist or chemist?
Are you carrying anything infectious?
Has your life been wonderful or inglorious?
Are you religious, agnostic, or irreligious?
Are you daily aerobicised or alcoholised?
Are you yet Starmer acclimatised?
Not believing the murderer might be wise?
He may well be the devil, the Anti-Christ?
A shame his mother didn’t use an abortionist,
He lies so well and is a good apophthegmatist,
PM, Labour leader? And not a socialist?
He’s too right-wing to be a Conservative…
For Starmer, there’s no live & let live,
Pensioners, he robs, lets farmers chew the cud…
The UK’s future is certainly not looking good…
He’s overdue to get his comeuppance,
But is there a genuine chance?
How did he get himself his Knighthood?
Are his fascist plans misunderstood?
For his lies alone, he should be braceleted,
He is indeed cruel, blackhearted,
I bet he’s still being backhanded!
Ensuring his own bread is well-buttered!
Keir lies, steals and never gets castigated?
I’ll be long dead by the time he’s cremated,
Which makes me feel cheated, exasperated,
I’ll be waiting for him in Hell, teeth-gritted…
Where his death can be celebrated!
By dead pensioners and farmers, that’d be good! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – NOT A BAD START TO THE DAY AT ALL! I awoke at 04:15hrs with the regulation jerk and jump supported by . Both cartilages, Chloe and Carole, Arthur Itis’s knees, Electric Shocking Sherida, Duodenal Donald, and even Ann Gyna gave me a break. Shaking Shoulder Shirley and Peripheral Pete’s leg dance routines were active but not overly much. Until just before midday, I was singing away to myself.
Then, two falls in twenty minutes as Cartilage Chloe let me down both times. From then on, after the second tumble, I could not continue with the blog.
Electric Shocks Sherida started, and more painfully, Anne Gyna and Toothache Tiffany followed. So, after lunchtime, this has thinner content than usual—almost nothing, at this moment. A 100% change from the marvellous morning I’d enjoyed. Even the computer, particularly CorelDraw, crashed again, and I was struggling as it was. In the morning, I got yesterday’s blog off nice and early, too. Of course, now I’ve lost so much time. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I woke at 04:15hrs, Feeling surprisingly well. Sure (for some silly reason), the ailments listed above would soon settle. Hahahaha! I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch, leaving it for the Carer to confirm the NHS colour rating later. As usual, I hobbled into the kitchenette to check the cooker, taps, etc. Taking these shots of morning view. The moon and another planet were visible, but I can’t see them in these pictures. Venus? Still cold outside at 0°c.
I got the kettle on. Forgot to make the tea.
Messy, spluttery and a lot of it!
Washed, no shave, fresh PPs on. Medicated the lower region.
I went to make a brew again and took these later shots of the sky as it changed colour and hue. Back to green today.
Pottered about getting the bags sorted. Finally, onto the computer with a mug of Co-op 99 tea. After finishing and posting the Saturday update, I went onto CoralDraw. It crashed, so I had to restart and use the CCleaner, which took me over an hour to get things going again. But things were very slow.
Frustrated, I went to wash the mug and get away from the computer problems. But found another problem… Cartilage Chloe gave way, as I bent down to get another bottle of cleaner from the cupboard. The tumble was all over in seconds, as I got mangled with the trolley and knocked just about everything on it to the floor on my way down.
I had to make my way back to the room on all fours to utilise the recliner to help haul my body from the floor. Which went amazingly well. Of course, both knees needed attention. The Catheter bag seemed alright, with no splits of leaks. That will teach me not to take a walking stick with me! I entered the wet room and rubbed some Phorpain Gel on my knees. Oiled my ear-holes at the same time. I forgot to earlier. Fancy that, me forgetting something!
I returned to the computer to see how to rescue the work lost on the CorelDraw crash. Carer Kimberley arrived. Pointing out I’d got a wound on my head near the eye, asking what happened. I told her the sad tale of woe. She took a photo of it.It was barely a scratch, and there was no pain with it. Haha! Medications given. And off she trotted, bless her.
I lost the artwork on CorelDraw. Now I was not happy!
I started the blog for today. After about two minutes, I felt worried that I had left the kitchen taps on. And stupidly hobbled hastily to the kitchen, thinking, believing I had left the tap running. As I got through the door (Stickless!). MARK TWO Cartilage Chloe had done it again! But the fantastic bit this time is I hit my head in almost the same place on the edge of the counter, so at least there was no mess to clean up. I’m looking on the bright side here! When Chloe did the net call, she took another photo. A very slight headache, but no actual pain. Apart from the knees again, Anne Gyna started, and she was serious about it this time. Kimberley gave me a Codeine, and I sprayed toothache spray all over my teeth and mouth. Oh dear, what a day. I also took some effervescent Paracetamol.
I’m not feeling terrific now.
I will get summat to nibble and get some rest. Sleep would be nice, too. I’ll put some more Phorpain Gel on the knees first, but what to use for Anne Gyna, I don’t know.
Steak in Rich Stout Gravy With onions. Added potatoes. Gorgeous! Milk Roll bread to soak up the delicious gravy. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Merci Au Revoir – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
