I woke after what I believed was a six-hour dream, and the memory of the ‘Gone-Missing-Laundry’ came to mind; as I was getting depressed and morbid at the prospects of having no dressing gowns, spending a fortune to replace them and the throws that may turn up, or likely will never will, and the email from the bank asking for confirmation and why I have bought the same things that I~~ did three months ago…
Then the real worry came to me. Wearing trousers for the Brain Scan at the hospital which is going to produce at least agony to poor Little Inchy as the catheter tube pulls and tugs again his fungal lesion. Next, the thought of having no dressing gown to change into and get out of the pain-giving trews when I get home to relieve the pain hit me… Argh!
A Mild Depression Dawned!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – When I forced my tormented body and mind to rise from the depths of the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner, I found that the Catheter punch contents were…
. At the highest level of colouration on the chart. .
I think there may be a slight chance, remote possibility, hundred-to-one shot, that today may not be a good one. Then again, when was my last good day? was not too hopeful of finding my ‘taken-away-to-be-laundered clothing’. The chances, must be slim, but she did say she’d have another look around for me.
Found my laundry. But no throws in there.
Morning: CorelDraw not letting me add any photos. Trouble getting into WP. Mousee taking me left & right, not up and down? Fearing the worse here…
The laundry, containing three nightgowns, I have another that I’m wearing at the moment that is getting a smidgeon whiffy, appears to have been lost or returned to the wrong client. I’m scared to send any more stuff to the laundry. The value of these dressing gowns is infinitesimal… no, sorry, I meant inestimable; Purely for the pain relief they give me from wearing trousers with the tube inserted into Little Inchie, thus causing agony, and . So, when indoors, I do not wear trousers at all, just one of the now sadly gone missing at the laundry dressing gowns. Tomorrow, I must get the trews on again to go to the QMC for the first brain scan. Lift arriving at 12:30hrs – lift home at 15:30hrs. Easy-Link confirmed this on a telephone call today. Bless them. The thought of having no dressing gown to wear when I return is galling. I dare not go around with just a gown on when someone other than Carers is due. I can almost feel the pain from trouser-wearing already. Argh!
There may not be a blog tomorrow – I’ll see how things go, time-wise.
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With no larger night bags available – I came close to having an explosion of urine showering this morning. Talk about overfull!
The ankles were a smidge swollen, and the ankle ulcers were more prominent than they usually are. No pains, though.
After a pot of porridge, onto the computer.
Two photos of rare morning glimpses of the sun. Not good ones, mind.
An absolute pleasure doing some pareidoliaing Especially with these cloud-creatures in view.
In the afternoon, the sky became almost of an oh, so pretty Sepia colouring.
At last, the urine had cleared on the third emptying. But, on the seventh one… Oh, dearie me!
Silly me got these out of order. These ones are from the waking half-hour when. I wandered around the rooms in the dark taking pictures. Why? No idea! But here they are…
Tatters in the slow cooker.
Suddenly not feeling very well. I’ll pack up now, don’t want to be unprepared for the Brain scan tomorrow.
AMAZING (To me) SUNSET SHOTS Early in the evening, ghost-clouds, Awesome. Back to the brown beauties!. Gone from view sun, the sky goes back to blue? Nightie-night! What a series of changes in colour. Never seen this before.
came again. No signs of the laundry being found. This could be costly; three dressing gowns, a bath towel, woolly hats, the Carers’ chair throw, and likely more stuff that went into the bag and will have to be replaced. That is if I don’t mysteriously find the bag hidden somewhere… and if they cannot be located, of course. There is always a chance they may come across them. I kept thinking maybe there were not taken and searching the room… repeatedly; but I never found the bag. I’ve had to order some more dressing gowns, but can’t get them delivered before next week, cost me well over £100 quid. Not much goes right for me… You might have noticed? Huh!
No meal tonight as such. Had a pot noodle, made and added some gravy, and dunked a bread roll in it. Nice!
Got my head down. Nodded off pretty quickly, and it felt as if I had a dream that went on all night. I didn’t wake up once! But the dream, that was of my journeying on a bus somewhere, and it kept getting lost… things seem to be in the 1950s, a conductress in the Bristol Lodekka bus.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Heck of a shock here today! The NHS input site advised me to ring NHS 111 starlight away, So I did!
But they were too busy and told me to visit the NHS 111 site. So, I did.
An hour later, I filled in the questions asked & guessed at the choices made.
Sent it off and was told someone would contact me later. They are very busy, and this may take some time, be patient. So, I did!
I went to make a brew, and the telephone rang – I was surprised I heard it in the kitchen, but, there you are, I did.
Answered many questions and had to guess at a few. The nurse had an accent, and the kine was not good, so it took a time to review all the needed details. Ultimately, she decided that the SYSs 128, and 119, with respective DIAs 57 and 59, were okay? This despite the NHS monitoring site telling me it was Too Low and to ring 111?
Don’t feel too confident about this. But then again, it’s unsurprising; they are the lowest readings I’ve ever had?
Well, the lowest B~P readings ever, advised to ring 111 – told to go online, spent ages sorting required details. Told it was okay. And earlier, this above when I woketh up. Similar farces these two. If the blood in the wee is level 6 or 7, I’m supposed to ring 111 – Ha!
I was woken up (Didn’t get settled until around 04:00hrs) and was woken by the arrival of Carer Sam. I was half out of it, having just been stirred reluctantly back to life. Think we had a chinwag, and Sam took the washing nada waste bag on her way out. Thank you.
Porcelain Throne visited, cleaned up the kitchen, dropped the milk bottle, and stubbed my toes again. The brain was not too interested in being creative and went on strike a few times when I got nothing done whatsoever; just seemed to sit here thinking but not knowing why or what of?
The yes were still bad, and concentration as well.
Dizzy Dennis, The Kathleen Catheter tube, and Anne Gyna all gave me bother of some sort. I really was only half here for many hours. Scary! Sort of light-headed, I suppose… mind you, I still am now seven hours later.
Lost the camera but found it a few hours later, hidden in front of me to the right of the computer – How the hell did I miss that?
Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down.
I made a brew and fell asleep for a while…
A while? Four bloody hours!
Carer Jo-Anne arrived; I was still a bit vague about things.
After the gal left… Ah, it was Jo-Anne I think that tool the washing? I could be wrong; of course, it has been known.
No sunset tonight. Boo!
Found the camera.
Lost the eye drops.
Sadly no chance of any sunset tonight… Sob!
Took early evening shots.
A couple of hours late, these…
Very little snow left now
Then got the soup and put the potatoes and soya bits in with it, then the seasoning. But could not find the mint sauce? Are a lot of things disappearing today?
Looking okay to me.
Blogging for another hour or two. Got about ten minutes’ worth of work done, Huh!
Carer Ayowoke arrived. The first time I’d seen him. Nice lad. He gave me a roster for next week, no Carer Richard in it! I asked if he knew anything about Richard, but he did not know him.
Did some more effort on this blog, but I still can’t get my head around the NHS telling me to ring NHS 111, and then eventually, telling me to log onto the web with NHS 111. After having to log in all my details, telling me that the Blood Pressure figures were okay?
I got the nosh on and served up. Another part-canned meal. A can of Asda Chunky Lamb & Vegetable soup. Couldn’t find the mint sauce to add to it, I think maybe it may have gone out of date? (Spit!) Added vegetable stock and some Pertranic, Cooked & sliced potatoes, just one finger knick!. Soy bacon thingies added; the final bit… Wholemeal rolls for me to dunk and dip! And soon, I’d demolished it! Eating every morsel and bit! Flavour Rating: 705/10.
The late Carer was Carole-Anne. Still no . We had a mini natter & laugh. Refreshing!
I woke up as my ginormously flabby body hit the floor! Landing conveniently on my bottom, but rather, unfortunately, the burst open . It was the mess of sorting things out that got to me rather than the bleeding itself. Handily, it was almost easy to get me back up on my bloated feet and legs… The first job was to check . I placed some paper towels inside the Protection Pants first, then looked over the pouch, grippers and tubing. All seems to be still attached.
Off to the wet room, giving the door frame a mini shoulder-charge as I went in. That hurt more than anything else did. Hehehe! I didn’t fret about this being half asleep; I expected that , and would cause me some problems. Even joined in with an . Only a little one, but enough for me to knock the Germoloid, Daktacort and Savlon creams off of the floor cabinet. Then after the haemorrhoids were treated… the always ‘Painful-Job’ of Cleaning up and ointmentationing !
After a multitude of Argh! – Ouches, curse words and loathings, and a moment of ‘Why Me Mate’ emotions, it was done.
I was amazingly calm and physiological about things… at least, I think I was? That’s probably not the word I should have used? It could have been a sign of my acceptance of the circumstances or my rotten luck? I may have been sick to the back teeth (mind you, there’s only one of them left in the mouth now) of hearing myself moan and whining on about my inabilities, ailments, frustrations, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, eyesight, hearing, Cathy Catheter pains, shortage of pouches, and the seemingly never-ending Bladder-Infection. Being bald, overweight, Duodenal Donald, Little Inches Phimosis and fungal lesion, Peripheral Neuropathy, having two strokes, being shot twice, scared shit of going in water. Now, there’s the , and the . The palpitating of the mechanical ticker. The almost persistent No help attainable for things like the computer and letters that are either too small or complicated for me to hear, see or understand? This will, I assume, be due to the attention gleaned of… .
Amazing change in the urine colour on the first emptying
Social event notification.
Early evening. No sunset as such, but… I captured these two close-ups.
A man shouted at the panel… DELIVERY! I opened the foyer lock door… Then as I made my way to the door, I spotted the Amazon van pulling away…
Crap! He’s left the stuff down in the foyer, I bet! No choice left other than to go down and find out. Here I go! Which meant going down in my dressing gown with the catheter on display. Although at the time, this did not occur to me at all. (thanks, Doreen Dementia!) When I got down, and saw a stack of parcels left on the table near the door, some for me, and number 5 and 42 flats. It was when two ladies returning home came in, and I saw their faces as they looked at me, that I realised I had only got on the dressing gown and slippers! The kind ladies helped me with the parcels, one of them carrying one for me that would not fit on the three-wheeler walker. ♥ Bless Her! ♥
I’d ordered some giant cans of French Casserole. Citric Acid and vegan Bacon bits… Oh, and BBQ flavouring. I opened the boxes and got the waste I had made to the bin in the foyer. Then opened a can of the above meals… Of which five of the six cans had dents of varying degrees in them. Tsk! I got some potato chunks from the freezer and got them in the oven. Planning to add flavouring to the meal, then add the potatoes. Got the oven on the top heat setting, opened the can, and deposited the ingredients into the thick saucepan. It didn’t look particularly appetising to look at, but smelt rather delectable to me, anyway. 800grm of food, to which I added…
I settled into my crumbling rotting c1966. charity shop bought, the 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. With the intention of watching an episode of ‘Heartbeat’. Drifted off into sweet oblivion for about an hour. (Bliss!) pressing the door chime to release the tune “Oh, Susana” blasting into my face from the box opposite my location, bringing me back to the scary reality of my tormenting, , and torturing, plaguing real-time, and the actual reality that life’s quality is sinking fast. (Shame). Jozeph issued the medications, and . He enquired if I was cooking something cause he cols smell food burning… Potatoes; I’d left them in the oven – for over an hour!
Hobbling at warp-three to the kitchen, in a semi-panic, only to find that the potatoes were burnt… but to perfection, for me, just how I love them. A bit of good luck there; after so long, surely they should have been just cinders? Is the stove on its way out? Farewell to Jozeph or Jozef; I wish I could remember to ask him. Hehe!
On with the meal making such as it was. I’d added the tomato passata, basil, liquid smoke and liquid salt & vinegar earlier to let it marinate in the saucepan for a while to get the flavour. I served it on the tray and took a photo of the feast. But, into the ether, it went from the SD card. It must be something I’m doing wrong, surely for it to happen so often? I left half of the meal in the saucepan, intending to transfer it to a dish and put it in the fridge to have tomorrow – but changed plans when I went into the kitchen in the morning and found it had gelled together and did not smell too nice. So, I dished it. Huh, all that cost and effort as well! !
It was while eating and enjoying it that I could smell some burning? I returned to the kitchenette to check things. All seemed okay to me?
Back into the front room to have another session with the fodder… then I got a Peripheral Neuropathy delayed reaction; and felt the pain around my knuckles… Yes, I supposed must have burnt myself taking the potatoes out of the oven? This often happens to me. With the nerve ends, neurotransmitters are dying off (Peripheral Neuropathy). Sometimes, the supposedly instant transmissions from the nerve end to the brain get delayed. So literally, the brain did not get the message until much later.
AN UP AND DOWN DAY TODAY Depressed one minute, singing away five minutes later, looking for figures and faces in the clouds… Then for some unknown reason, I got such a sharp pain from Little Inchie, and I was not moving, just sat making my usual mistakes and errors on the computer? Unfortunately, off and on, they have been pestering me all day. They still are. Humph!
When I burnt the meal, the third time in three days, a reason or cause to feel down you’d have thought? But no, I just drained and wrapped the burnt stew in multiple thick waste bags, and I took them to the dustbin. Returned to start making another meal.
I couldn’t find my favourite smooth writing Paper-Mate Ink-Joy pen. There’s no logic about the panic I got myself into. Jesus, I’ve got no end of pens I could have used – But No! I just had to find it at all costs! Nothing else got done for well over an hour; nothing else seemed to matter! Until I found it underneath Hopewell’s c1962 falling apart splintered cabinet, right at the back against the wall.
This was not going to beat me, oh, no! I got the best of the picker-upperers. Picker-Percy.
It’s been used almost daily for a couple of years or more, but still working well. It can (and does) pick up individual tablets, even the smallest ones, the Beta-Blocker, Bisoprolol Fumarate, and I-litre bottles of water. A great friend indeed, especially when in need. But, this time, and not Percy’s fault…
I foolishly leant a little too far forward in my effort to fish the pen from the darkness beneath… By the time I’d got it, a few things had taken place…
❶ As I leant down, I squashed against the catheter tube and yanked it out a little… ❷ The swearing and cringing did not help the pain in any way, but I felt a smidge better. ❸ I got Metal-Micky (the four-pronged stick) and went to the wet room to stop the bleeding from Little Inchy. Got some new Depends on, and back to the problem at hand. ❹ Stooped and lost my balance, ‘Clunk’ as my head hit the loose door on the cabinet… ❺ Then back to the wet room and put some Savlon on the forehead, and once again, to stop the bleeding from Little Inchy. Got some new Depends on. I tried to assess any damage to and back to the problem at hand. I got the pen retrieved and should have been more than content… Hah! ❻ It was a different pen, not the Paper-Mate! That’s still hiding somewhere. Hehe!
Carer Jozeph, Carer Sam, and Carer Sarah called up to now. (20:00hrs) A late one to fit the later.
Only been two visits up to now.
Here are the few photos taken today?
♫ FOOD GLORIOUS FOOD ♫ DELIVERED I was soi lucky that Carer Joseph was here when they arrived. The driver left them down in the main lobby! Joseph fetched them up for me, for which he got some cold coffee and all my thanks for helping.
and the last of the fodder
I took this early after getting up to try and catch the shadows from the other flats as they stretched across the tree copse/.
Going to get my evening meal now. Before the night bag gets attached.
Adding the tasty ersatz bacon to the tomatoes, Mediterranean 7-vegetable sauce, and sea-salted, chopped tomatoes with basil in the saucepan. Stirred continually ( as the hot water tap was left run cold, Huh!), and got it served up on the tray.
I got settled in the £300, bought nine years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, itch-producing, back-pains-guaranteed, none-working, recliner. Two of the over-floured bread rolls to dunk in the juices. And the last of the cheap Strawberry jam imitation desserts. I wallowed in the feast, slowly enjoying the flavour. The Taste-Rating for this one was 8.9/10.
after mayhap the best-flavoured nosh all week came the job of washing the things up from its creation. It took me ages to get the pots clean. Thank heavens I used a throw-away tin foil tray in the oven; that made things easier not having to scrub the oven dish.
After getting things sorted, I dipped into the Sprinkle buttons for a self-treat. Seemed a good and earned idea to me.
Sorry I did now! I popped three of the rainbow-covered bits of chocolate into my mouth.The pain and blood from the broken tooth that one got lodged in, indicated that doing this was not a good idea. It wasn’t! Tsk!
I took these photos of the late sun setting. Bootiful!
A distance shot… Then a close-up of the departing sun over the horizon.
Came in, and to the for me. He emptied the urine bucket and checked that the flow from Day Pouch to Night Pouch was working. All good. Richard checked the taps and stove were not left on. He pointed out that I’d taken the antibiotics at the wrong time. At the time, I was convinced I was doing right and could not get my head around the problem, but accepted his findings without question. Somehow deep in the depths of the controlled brain, I was more confused than ever, however: In the morning, when I thought about it, it was so obvious to me that the lad was so right. How these changes in awareness come and go annoy me. Then I get angry with myself. Not as angry as when I do stupid things, like leaning forward and bending, kneeling full well there is a risk of a visit from or at worst, an . Then get pee’d off when it happens! Grrr!
Another example of Inchies newly acquired ineptitude, incompetence, inadequacy and incapacitation are shown above. Not one of the best selfies I’ve tried for. Hehehe! Still, I might use it on the blog, mayhap as an ode-topper?
Safe Sleep, with Bo-Beep, After counting the sheep, I hope your sleep is deep… Dream of nothing grossièreté, Find happiness in a heartbeat!
06:20hrs: Woke and removed the Catheter Night Pouch. And well-bloodied it was. Tummy ache.
Amazed at how many times the photos of the Catheter Bags seemed to have faces, figures of animals, and other objects on them. Can you see the mousse in this one? I’m worried about the pains still coming from the guts and Little Inchie. And, of course, the thick blood in the urine.
Emptied the Night Catheter bag in the WC.
Took this photo when making a mug of tea.
Carer Richard arrived, and he got the medications given to me. Told him about the blood in the urines again and how it was even redder than yesterday… or less brown, mayhap.
The blood coming into the Day bag seemed thicker than ever?
Back to the Wet Room to use the Porcelain Throne. Found that the bleeding from Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was worse than ever before. The tube was tugging at it. I imagine.
The Co-op delivery arrived. Not a lot this time.
Yee Gods! The Day Pouch had filled up already, and I’d not been drinking the water, cause I was sorting the food out? Better get it empties…
The overloaded pouch only let me release a tiny drop of blood & urine. Then the release valve seemed to stop working! I could be in trouble here cause the bag is so full will only block the bladder with the stake blood in it. No wonder I had a tummy ache! I tried to ring the Meridian Office, but no answers to the three calls I made. So, I called the District Nurse’s number. As I was explaining my problem… The bloody valve in the catheter opened itself… Blood and urine-soaked slippers, socks, and feet, as well as over the carpet. What a state I got into cleaning it up… well, trying to! You can see the blood clot in the above picture that shot out first. followed by a torrent of urine & blood. Argh!
The lady at the District Nurses HQ said she was sending someone around to take a look at things for me and rang off.
I continued to try and get myself, and the place cleaned up. But the stretching and bending, even though I was using kitchen towels wrapped around the picker-upperer, started Back-Pain-Brenda, Anne Gyna, the Mystery Rib Pains, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley and a lengthy Dizzy Dennis attack off. I was not in a good state at that moment. Half an hour later, I was washing the wee-wee bucket. and a nurse arrived, a pretty nurse, too. I was in a bit of a state panic-wise, so didn’t get her name… or maybe I did but forgot it. Yes, that sounds likely to me!
The nurse listened while I told her the sequence of events. Took a photo of the blood clot and date on the guilty pouch. Most annoyed at the Catheter Pouch being changed, asked me if they knew (Carers, I imagine) that the bag must be changed every seven days. That’s what it is designed for, no longer; seven days is the limit permitted. Doreen Dementia intervened, and I could not answer her. The pains were not helping me to concentrate. She told me to ring if had any other problems.
An interesting photo here. No idea what it’s of. Hehe!
Gotten Himmel! The new bag filled up quickly again.
Emptied the pouch.
Took a snap of the much-missed-visiting tree copse.
I see an image in this picture of the day bag. Can you?
This one reminded me of Telstar.
The new shape of the pouches was noted. No faces or images were seen.
Back to the Porcelain Throne. Wearing the just emptied day bag. The blood flowing in looked like veins. Haha!
The bag keeps filling up so quickly?
An hour after emptying it.
Carer Sam arrived on a safety visit. Later, Carer Kara arrived for the late medicationalisationings. We had a quick natter, she was very busy.
Carer Richard came for the late check. He got the night bag fitted.
I pressed on with this blog until around 02:00hrs. Then got my head down.
Back in the morning – Hopefully.
Arrived and to the day one. Checked the taps and stove, then took the waste bags for me.