– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If I say that today was an odd day, this would be an understatement, a mild euphemism, and an undeniable matter-of-fact. Morning Carer Selina arrived. She medicated me and put on the socks, and after the gal had gone, I’d lost the plot with what I was going to type. Sad, innit?
The day continued in this mould. There were a few Out-of-it moments. Either I fell asleep, had mind blanks, or had a few Non-Epilectic Seizures. Take your pick; it could be any one of them. Or perhaps a mixture. Occasionally, when I returned to imitation life, I found I’d been working on something on the computer while mentally AWOL, with no memory of doing so! On other occasions, I’d done nothing whatsoever as far as I could ascertain. Also, before Selina departed, she took photos of the wee-wee I released into the jug…
The fluffy bits of whatever were back again! But the nurse last month wasn’t worried. I’m sure it will be alright. Likely, it was bits of my prostate coming out. Cause when the Specialist Doctor put me on the Finasteride tablets for a month.
Hoping they will reduce the size of my prostate to let me manually wee again. So the month’s course is now a year-long one, and still, they ply me with more Prostate (RIP)-killing capsules?
A touch of overkill here, methinks. This is what makes me believe it’s the residue of my prostate floating in the jug of released urine? I don’t know, really. You never know; the Finasteride may have already done for the prostate and has now moved on to another organ to murder? Hehe!Haha!
I hope it doesn’t have a go at a larger organ; that would be pure agony to try and get whatever it was through Little Inchy and the Catheter’s narrow tube. (Inchy laughs weakly) With Confusion reigning again within my poor brain.
Concentration was as bad as it’s been for months today.
I’ll have to rush now; it’s Monday (10:15hrs), and as usual, I’m miles behind with the blog. I’ll have to comment quickly on the photos if I can recall the moment I took them. I’m so frustrated! And this morning (Mon), when I did the ablutions, I turned on the fan heater, and the room was filled with Acne and Eczema bits blown from all over my chubby, belly-dominated body. I don’t know why I told you that?
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A better colour this morning.
The sun was creeping up from the rear left of the blocks of prison cells—no, no, flats! It gave this shot a specific flavour, but I forgot what word I was going to use.
It’s safe to say that the oven burn scar will soon start to crumble off of the hand. It’s not easy taking photos with one hand.
Out came the new cordless hoover with its headlights on when in use. I think I’ll name it Vacuum Victor.
Had a good long session on the crossword before I could encourage Conrad to free it.
I caught my hand on the rack as I grabbed the toilet roll, and bits of a green-looking scar dropped off. It has taken eleven days to heal. I’d better not pick at it, though.
Afternoon and evening sky snaps. Pareidolia’s Delight. Faces, bird heads, a human head… A taser, a beast with an open jaw, and a bird with an open beak—it’s incredible how many things I spotted today. This is the last of the sky shots I took. I took some later ones without the SD card being inserted into Kodak Tim. Tsk! It could happen to anyone, (he says).
16:20hrs: Carer Ali arrived as I sat down to have the meal. The feasting was resumed after he’d gone. Baked beans with BBQ seasoning were added to some tomatoes and veggie sauce, mini vegan sausages, and chips, and I had such a hard time getting grime off the oven tray. I tried cleaning it, but I gave up and threw it away! Hence, the chips were mangled, but I still enjoyed them, even if they had cooled too much. The pot of jelly was of a sour-type one. Nice & Tangy! I put the TV on until Carer Richard arrived. He suffered from leg problems and was in pain, so there was no laughter tonight; bless his cotton socks. Gave him a cold drinkie, and he soon had me sorted. Diabetic socks removed.
Even I had to laugh at the mess I got myself into getting into the hospital bed tonight. Farcical? Yes? But at the time, it was also humorous. I’d done the safety checks on the taps cooker, etc., and pulled the curtains back to get as much light in the room as possible; this was to try to avoid needing to use the torch. Turned off the lights and edged my way in the semi-darkness, along the bed, towards the operating thingy… I trod on a power socket extension that slightly made me jump. I knocked the overbed mini-table over, followed it onto the floor, and tripped again over the walking stick that had been knocked over as well. I wish this was being recorded in something other than my memory! It was worthy of being a Brian Rix-type Farce! As I struggled with my painful knees, which took me ages and started to foolishly, unthinkingly pull myself up using the bed as a grip… What a Plonker! Of course, the loose quilt on the bed assured my falling back down onto the floor and my bum again! I did feel like a silly old fool! and started bleeding, I was back to square one, on the floor in agony! I somehow walked on my knees to the recliner to get myself upright again. The grief from Cartilages Chloe and Carole was so bad that when I did manage to haul up my elephantine-stomached body onto my feet again, I took a Codeine, creamed the Fungal Lesion and Harold’s Haemorrhoids, and Phorpain-Gelled both knees and Back-Pain-Brenda! I rose upright to make my way to the bed again… No, there’s more to come yet!
I fought my way carefully and cautiously into the hospital bed, using the torch this time. Within seconds of finding a comfortable position, the need for me to use the Porcelain Throne arose! I was extra heedful and got to the wet room without further hindrances. The flow started as my bottom hit the plastic lid. It came and came… and came! It was a Kharki, almost liquid type of evacuation. You know, the kind that leaves an uncomfortable sensation in your innards… well, my innards!
The cleaning up afterwards took a long time. I had to clean and medicate again.
Then, a high alert mode was adopted for the trip back to the long overdue, belated sleeping on the bed. Amazingly, all went well with the return trip! I had a few hiccups getting into the bed, but they are not worth mentioning. I think I drifted off into the land of Sweet Morpheus Post-Haste. I woke up after a decent amount of time with a vivid memory of the farce in my mind. So, So, I scribbled down some notes to use here.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My concentration is degenerating into tabefaction. I was chatting away with Carer Joanne while she got the medications sorted, and I lost what I was talking about in a flash – twice! Then, later, as I was paying a visit to the , nothing moved, no motion, was in full control – absolute control. I sat and waited, counting the cracks in the ceiling (23), had a bash at the crossword puzzle (Got one answer), and as I gave up and stood up, I knocked the olive oil bottle, and it fell straight into the WC! Yes, I think I may have sworn… but not as much as I did two minutes later. Using the picker-upperer to get the Protection Pants back up, I tore them at the seam. I got a fresh pair out of the bag and started to carefully get them on, not easy as it took place mid-way through the procedure. But, no falls, no injuries, no harm. I got the pants in position and sorted the leg bag into position, and I seem to remember thinking to myself, at the time, ‘Well, that went well. ‘Fatal!’ I should have known better with my luck! I turned to leave, and I walked into the bloody doorframe again! Hitting it right where I’d had the Covid jab inserted! I cursed so angrily at myself; there was phlegm coming out of my mouth, and the pain seemed a second consideration; my first one was to curse my luck… several times and with a wide variety of self-vituperation & condemnation-led foul mutterings. Acrimoniousness, blasphemy & self- malignity! I was so angry at myself that I felt guilty and foolish a minute or so later – what if someone had heard me? Oh, dearie me!
No wonder I want someone to adopt me as a grandad!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A smidge darker this jolly morning.
A jolly mug of Glengettie for me. I pathetically knocked it over in a Shaking Shaun second; Humph! Made another.
Morning’s first photo.
The scab is breaking up slowly. I think some will be missing by tomorrow morning. I mustn’t pick at it!
As wot I wrote in the prologue. Fresh leg bag on after ablutioning.
Second external photo.
I’ve been blogging with more mistakes than I could count for three more hours to put things right that I got wrong, I hope! Carer Shaquille, then Carer Joanne.
Emptying the Catheter Day Bag. I swear it was bubbling. Hehe!
Third window shot, beautiful clouds.
AGAIN!
Later on, clouds again. Plenty of things in these, I see, A duck, fish and a bee, And a sun so shiny!
Tore the PPs. As already mentioned above.
Carer Victor. Did his BP, good result. SYS 110 – DIA 73 -Pulse 93 – TEMP 34.3°c.
More figures in this wonderful photo of the clouds from the kitchenette window.
I got it! But it took me far more than 3 seconds!
It’s late now, very late. I better save the blog, switch off, and get a meal sorted out. I’ll do the catch-up in the morning. Back later! Well, I hope I will. Haha!
Contrails in the sky… or are they?
It was a lovely meal. Lamb and mutton burgers were eaten on thin slices of milk roll bread, dunked in ketchup with pickle. Nice UK tomatoes and crinkle-cut chips! A pot of mandarins in jelly eaten for afters. Nice!
I took this shot of the sky as I washed the pots up, and then I settled down to watch Death Wish 3 on the TV. I managed to stay awake throughout the movie, even during the advertisements. I dozed off as it was finishing. I’d forgotten how far-fetched yet almost amusing this film was. I like it when the goodies win. A fantasy, of course.
Got in the hospital bed. But sleep was not coming, although I felt tired and drained. After an hour of trying to kip, I got up and fetched a cold drink from the fridge. Took this early morning photo. And got back into the bed. Within a few minutes – Zzz!.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I believe I mentioned this morning’s visit to be woken up by , in yesterday’s blog. She recognised my condition immediately. The belated COVID side effects were that the arm was stinging, and apparently, I was stuttering as I spoke to the gal. I fear it got worse as the day went on. Confusionabalitis reined. I kept going into mind-blanks and seizures at an alarming rate. However, it was the same after last year’s Covid jab, so I’m not panicking. Thank heavens that Varer Christopher took some sky photos for me last night on his previous two visits that I can use. My eyes were not up to photographing much, but I took a couple before the effects got to me, which is another belated side effect. I was so glad I got the trip-out photos done. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Chris’s first efforts here. From the balcony window. Nice. A double shot, methinks? His second visit snaps. Local residences. Local residences.
He even took one of my midday nosh. Was my hunger increased by the medications?
On Saturday morning, Caregiver Chris updated me on some things that I’d forgotten or got wrong in my mind. For example, I fell asleep for the third Caregiver visit without knowing it. He said I was snoring away loudly when he came in. Hehe! Also, I was in the same state, snoring, in the bed when he arrived. I really thought I’d laid there for hours waiting to fall asleep? I’ll have to change the Zzz’s on the Health Check graphic later, but I’ve done it now.
I took this one earlier when trying to sleep in the chair.
Chris took this shot for me.
Also, this is one of the burn scars. It seems to be drying up now; the crust is beginning to break up. I burned my hand on the oven rack eight days ago! It’s a persistent little thing. Hehe!
Took this watching the TV in the hope of falling asleep. I bet everyone knows what programme was on. Although it may not have been shown in the USA, it was definitely a very British-humoured comedy programme.
The hunger returned. I got sausages and Frickadelens cooking and prepped some sliced wholemeal baguettes with some ketchup and pickle in, ready to have the sausages. I cut some tomatoes and dined well! Two meals in a day? I haven’t known for ages, but they were only very small. (Noted, in case the Doctor reads this blog)
Up at 05:50hrs: The wee-wee in the nocturnal catheter pouch was a little darker than yesterday’s. Well, that’s got the essential, crucial news out of the way. I am a confused fool.
I made up some waste bags and placed them near the front door for collection. If I remember, I will ask the caregiver to do the same. Carer Richard arrived. I forgot to ask him to put the diabetic socks on my legs. So, I left it until the midday call, and I hope I remember then. An afternoon view from the kitchen window. an early evening one. Which had some appeal to it. In need of the Throne again. This time, it was the turn of Rock Hard Constipation Conrad to rule the roost. Had a go at the crossword puzzle while intermittently urging the motion to begin. Which it eventually did. Lost a fair bit of blood, though.
I lost hours here to either a or . Most likely a memory blank cause I’d taken photos and made a right mess of the blogging, which needed much repairing and correcting. These on the left were taken in the wet room, obviously. Can you see the chicken leg bones sticking out? These are the old ulcers, and they were slightly more painful this morning. I hope they are not going to make me come back. TWO. Carer Marie came, returning the laundry for me and putting it away for me as well ♥. All a vagueness then, but I can recall Carer Christopher coming and getting his vittles. Hehehe!
I’m not so sure when I took this photo. But then again, I’m not sure of anything lately. During the first mind blank, mysteriously disappeared the notepad you see in the snap on the left? It’s all part of the mysteries of the Woodthorpe Court’s sinister Spirit’s master plan: to raise the devil, spread wonders, blunders, rodomontades, fears, and descenders from the comfort of sanity into gibbering wrecks! Yes, I like that. Inchy, the Gibbering Wreck! Haha! I feel an ode coming on here…
Bootiful evening shot of the sky here. Not that I can recall taking it. Yet I can remember things from back in the 1950s with almost clarity. Mostly the things I did, got wrong and failed at, mind you. Ah! This is my evening meal: beef pie, potato patties, and garden peas, with some ketchup and a pickle on the plate. I ate it all up with a certain satisfaction.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Or it might have been Carer Victor or Israel. Erm, if I remember correctly, I’ll reveal it all on Monday. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It was not an extraordinary sort of day, with a few intermittent happenings that were out of the ordinary. I can’t recall having a single , no, honestly! A carer failed to arrive for the midday checks, which was not all that unexpected; last Monday, a morning medication Carer failed to arrive. The ailments and injuries were, as usual, ever-present.
My , or of course it may have been , added up to three. This seems to be the agreed count these last few days, with my brain taking over masters in conjunction. For some unknown reason, the burn on the right hand of the oven rack is taking a while to stop being painful. Constipation Conrad is back in charge of the evacuations. My concentration is no worse than yesterday. Not that that’s saying much. I think Concentration Konrad is now a permanent fixture. He joins the other ailments as a part of the Mysteries of 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? It’s a busy week coming up, too. On Tuesday, the J Sainsbury order arrives – a big one, too! On Wednesday, the Pegasus Police form must be filled in and posted back – without any help from Caregiver Kara, who is on holiday for a fortnight. The results could be catastrophic if I get confused and fill it in wrongly, but a man of calibre should be able to cope. When I worked at Tesco, I had six tills to cash up, making sure the money was right, coupons were given and checked, and even the issue of Green Shield stamps had to be checked every day of the week. Of course, that was in 1966, a few years ago now. My brain had most of its functions working. All were pre my getting shot (twice), cancer, heart operation, duodenal ulcer operation, Cataract Katie, Glaucoma Gladys, Saccades Sandra, Dementia Doreen, falling in a lake, having the Stroke, getting Peripheral Neuropathy, Cancer of the bladder – Catheter Bag fitted… currently the most painful of the ailments! FND, Diabetes Insipidus, Diabetic Polyneuropathy – leading to Diabetes 2. Going deaf, a failed Cataract operation – currently awaiting a second one, a Glaucoma operation and having a permanent catheter fitted, Cartilage Chloe (left knee), Cartilage Carole (right knee), Onychovryptosis (Ingrowing toenails), None-Epileptic Seizure Disorder Dina, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Vasculitis Vanessa, Dental caries, which in turn assist my given ability for . I wear alert wristbands; if I wore one for each ailment, I’d run out of wrist and arm-room. Hahaha! I’m still searching for an ‘Allergic to Clopidogrel’ wristband. Not that I have room to wear it, Hehe! They give Clopidogrel to everyone taken in after a stroke. But we didn’t know until it was too late that I was allergic to it. Thus, then I got Peripheral Neuropathy. But it’s been fun and exciting. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I think I saw a speck of blood in the bag this morning when I photo’d it. Likely, it’s just a reflection from the flash, I assumed? Much drizzle is out there from the balcony’s right window. The usual excellent parking is available from our senior citizens on the yellow chevrons, indicating, do not park here. I’m not jealous that the drivers can still afford to own one. Or that my licence had to be surrendered due to the ailments making me unsafe on the roads. Har, Har! The drugs would still have me nodding off; that’ll most likely be the s. Coming home from work one day from Rempstone, I stopped at some traffic lights in Clifton and dosed off for two hours. I woke up in an ambulance going to the hospital. I felt fine; I just have no memory of what happened. Apparently, other drivers couldn’t wake me up and thought I’d snuffed it and called an ambulance and police. I decided that at that time, I’d hand in my licence. I realised that I could have killed someone. What if I’d been driving at the time? The RAC returned the car to my garage. I thanked them and cancelled my membership. Within two days, I’d given my beloved vehicle away. At least it helped a mate who was out of work. I never saw him again? Boy, I’ve waffled on here! Sorry. Off to the wet room. A rare return of . Almost caught me out! I was expecting a battle with . After the slushy evacuation, the stomach remained gurgling. I cleaned things up and started shaving.
Partway through doling, I hastily plonked down on the seat again for a repeat performance. Well, not so much, but what exited was even more watery this time. With a tinge of orange in the colour that was not there on the first session on the throne? By the time I finished shaving, washed, and did the medicationings for the delicate areas in need, then got the place cleaned up again, I’d been there for over two hours! It was a more painful-to-pass scenario, but I’d gladly welcome him back. Pants and slippers on again, I meandered out onto the balcony. The rain was still pouring down. I took the first two of the snaps. They were not very good, taken through the window glass. I hobbled into the kitchenette to do the same through the kitchen glass. All three show how much it was raining, though. We had a fair bit of it yesterday. There followed an almost rapid selection of I caught the hand in the window closing it, right on the burn scar, which naturally made me jump away… ; I knocked the towel roll and holder off of the window ledge. : The stalk broke off from the base. : Bending down to retrieve those as mentioned earlier, I hit my forehead on the edge of the radiator. Turned and dropped the walking stick, which hit the fridge and fell right on my left foot’s ingrowing toenail! Did I swear? Yes! And I did again when I realised I’d sprayed the kitchen cleaner all over the dressing gown when cleaning things up. Humph!
I got out the new vacuum cleaner and hoovered up the mess I’d made when walking to the wet room in the hallway. I took a snap of the new cleaner to show you the fancy headlights on the machine. Hehehe! The vacuum arrived in eleven pieces in a square box, with miniature writing on the instruction booklet. Luckily for me, Carer Chris came and assembled it within three minutes. Of course, I could have handled doing it quickly; I just wanted the lad Chris to think he’d done something worthwhile. . The new Catheter Pouch Bag keeps slipping down the leg. The new Tena Protection Pants keep slipping down. I also seem to have misplaced my hearing aids. I’ve checked the wet room, kitchen, rubbish tip room, and front room without any success. To the rescue again. He found the hearing aids within minutes. He’s a very good ferriter. While he was searching, he spotted some biscuits, and he had to have a packet. Hehehe! They had dropped behind the rickety 1962 G-Plan cabinet, and he retrieved them for me. Saved again! The evening sky kept changing hue. Well, I thought it did, anyway. Of course, what my eyes see and you may not do…
Or should that be the other way around? You can tell I’m getting tired, can’t you? My thoughts at this moment, remind me of vegetable dumpling stew… mixed, unclear and lumpy. I took this last, catching the edge of the window frame and the sun on its way home. There’s an elegance to these sunset shots. They’re vivid yet semi-opaque – a bit like the cameraman. Har-Har!
A simple nosh for a simpleton. Salt & vinegared chips, vegetarian sausages, a soft brown baguette with pickle-flavoured ketchup. Followed by a pot of mandarins in jelly. My hunger was pleasantly sated.
The blessed, unaccountable reduction in the agony, down to merely a bothersome pain. It is now reverting again. Slowly, it is getting worse and more frequent, but I have hopes. It is currently estimated at 50% of the high reached over the two previous days. In the morning, I will have an ablution session, concentrate, and cream the ‘delicate’ area (Little Inchies zone). Getting the new catheter bag pouch off and on might be a stumbling block, with having to bend to get it off and then on without damaging the frail cotton it’s made of. (Fingers crossed on that one) We’ll see how it goes. At least I have some Codeines to ease the pain now.
I’m sure I had a or during the day. Some were in which I was doing things, albeit making a mess of them, but I had no memory of them. One, in the afternoon, was a cracker. It was as if I just blinked, and two hours were lost. After the blink, I could not see that I’d done anything. Had I unknowingly nodded off, perhaps? Indeed, if I had dozed, I’d still be getting the leg dances as I had all day and would have fallen off of the chair?
Is it all a part of the Mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ghosts, the grotesque succubae, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, or the Fata Morganas, and my failing mentality and physicality. That taunt, irritate, and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? Just a thought.
I lost so much time being out of it that tomorrow morning at 09:40 hrs, I’ve only just started this blog.
Oh, dearie me. Hehehe!
05:25hrs: I stirred back reluctantly to life. (I’d had a dream that I’d died and was arguing with St Peter at his gates. No details were available; I was just getting irate with him over something. (Mayhap he wanted to send me back to earth?) Haha! I cannot recall taking this, but I must have; it was on the SD card in order. Looking at it with the spyglass, it seemed rather shaky. A reversal in evacuation stakes this morning.
Trotsky Terence’s return was short-lived. Still, on the bright side, it meant far less time, and aches needed to be cleaned up after the session. I went back to putting on the Unisex Protection Pants today. Yesterday, the new Tena ones were a little loose, which meant Little Inchie and his lesion got scuffed a few times. Not that the pain bothers me. Oh, no! I got the out of the pouch holder relatively quickly. Mainly because it was so full, which helped. However, when it came to getting things back on again, it took me ages and a lot of frustration to do so. (Pain as well)I ripped the side of the leg bag getting it back on. I also knocked the burn scar on the right hand from the oven-singeing against the grab bar, the skin broke, and blood flowed.
One of my better days.
Minutes before my first ‘Blank’, I took this snap of the Woodthorpe Court end car park.
Hours later, I could see nothing had been done on the blog or cleaning, and the notepad barely had three lines of reminders on it. Hurumph!
Because I’m a Pareidolist,
Finding figures I can’t resist,
Faces, animals I can detect…
In the clouds, even with mist,
Yet, I’m no astrologist,
Maybe I’m an illusionist?
I wanted to be a harpsichordist,
Nature at her bestest…
Because I’m a Pareidolist,
The day’s views from my little kitchenette. Of the clouds on display, for me to find things hidden within. A goose, a tree, fingers, three faces… no, four! A snake, a mouse, there’s probably more.
I can’t be sure. There is no possible cure. For my habit, I’m a Pareidolist.
A different type of nosh today.
Vegetarian sausages (8.8/10), Milk Roll Bread (8/10), Air-Fried Chips (6.5/10), and ketchup with pickle (8.2/10). I can’t work out the average, But I’ll try. With the help of the Windows calculator, I made the average 7.875/10?
I may struggle to get a blog done tomorrow, folks. Or it will be a short one, if at all. Things medicationalistically are not good, pain-wise again, today. Saturday at just gone 17:50hrs, must get things sorted after a meal. I’m just getting this finished to send off. Nothing has been done on Starudays blog yet. And I’m on the verge of depression. But I will not allow it to get to me today. Will-Power, huh! Naturally this may be or not, so what! Just another of life’s aims shot.
The three medical outings in five days have left me with immense pain from the tubing being moved, tugged and adjusted by the medical staff, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding is giving out pain like never before.
It’s wearing me down so persistently. I’d like to explain what actions were taken here in case I forget it later. When she came, I explained the pain to Carer Kara. She kindly rang the District Nurses and advised them of my dilemma. As Kara was rushing off, they called back. I handed the mobile to Kara as my ears were not picking up what whoever rang was saying. It was a Nurse who gave the fantastic advice: “Tell him to take Paracetamol.” (Surely they know I’m on the maximum permitted every day, anyway?) “We are calling on the 30th anyway!” Great, a 7-day wait for pain relief. I am taking an extra Codeine 30g of it, but I do not feel too happy about it, even though they do not help much either. The chance of getting side effects will be multiplied if I take more than prescribed… I’ll look them up while I think about it. Here they are with explanations as to how they affect me personally. Constipation: Dead right there! Spot-on! Feeling sleepy: Check! Confusion:(Unable to concentrate or think clearly muddled thoughts): I have been like this for two years! Feeling dizzy and vertigo: Yes, both; I call them Dizzy Dennis and Balance Bothering Brenda. Dry mouth: Yes! Headaches: Nope!
Anaphylaxis: This is a life-threatening allergic reaction that happens very quickly. It can be caused by food, medicine, or insect stings. Call 999 if you think you or someone else is having an anaphylactic reaction. Symptoms of anaphylaxis happen very quickly. They usually start within minutes of coming into contact with something you’re allergic to, such as food, medicine, or insect stings. Well, that’s as clear as mud. But I’m taking another one, no choice, I can’t bear this pain! That’s handy. There are only two Codeine tablets left in the Carers pot on the desk, and I can’t find any in the medical drawer in the kitchen. Hopefully, some may be due soon. I’ll get in a tizzy if I run out, which I did in the morning!
Good colour.
Morning view.
Much painful urging was needed.
My food order arrived. Spring water. Carers, nurses, treats. Food Glorious Food!
Carer Marie arrived, helped me put the last few things away, and checked some dates.
The pains from the catheter were even worse today! Concentration is done in.
Sky photos were taken frequently as I made a mess of blogging. The pains eased a smidge when I got stood? Ever-changing views of the clouds. Do you see the face? Faces again.
As I was getting the meal sorted.
Carer Christopher came while I was imbibing the nosh. Can of tomatoes with tomato & Mediterranean vegetable sauce. Sea salted, and Milk Roll bread dunked. Some cheap bacon misshapes cooked in the oven were added. Christopher got the sock off for me.
I’m not sure when I took this Kodak Tim shot. But it looks gorgeous.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was in pain, shattered and weary when I got home. Not many photographicalisationing were taken. Plenty of naps and kips, but they were all interrupted by various pains springing me awake. Tomorrow is expected to be another busy day for the district Nurse, Warfarin Nurse, Caregiver Kara Financial, and Catheter Constrictionings. The Asda order is coming. As I was typing, I hoped to find a more bearable layout to ease it. Little Inchie is in such agony again with the tubing.
ARGH! This is not good!
Anyway, here’s the snaps.
Dark urine again. Fancy that!
The ankles and legs look better. Renaud’s in the toes. Time-killing crossword. Teeth bleeding after cleaning.
Back Home. I Fell asleep, woke up, and took this.
Blogging, doing the ode to the hospital.
Carer Christopher came, in need of nibbles. I’d fallen asleep watching the TV. Night bag on, my socks were taken off, and he washed the pots for me.
For the first time all day, I was in a position where the tube was not too painful. He recognised this and threw a quilt over me. Chris checked the taps, etc., turned off the lights, and departed.
① Peripheral Neuropathy Pete dying off neurotransmitters are not letting me sense the keyboard buttons as I press them, resulting in far too many corrections were and are needed; no doubt I’ve missed some of them. Ruining my concentration. ② The ankle electric shocks are much more frequent. ③ By far, the worst of these handicaps, ailments, pains, and frustrations is the unregulated nasty, agony-giving twinges emanating from the poor Little Inchie via the inserted catheter tube. This was much more unfortunate because I could not find a position where they ease off. I can sit still and be relatively pain-free, and then they return without me doing anything! I’ve tried adjusting the Protection Pants, but that doesn’t change anything. Yet, at times, I can be hobbling along with the walking stick, and the pain dissipates? As for bending down or stretching, they are a no-no. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I rose from the bed at 05:10 hrs. First, I detached the nocturnal catheter pouch.
Then, I went to the wet room; the Porcelain Throat was needed. Just a little painful.
This is a fantastic view from the kitchen window. Unfortunately, the blotches were caught in all the external photographs today, Humph!
Working on the blog, and a Carer arrived. Same chap as last week, a nice young man. He issued the medications and got the diabetic socks on my legs. With the pain from Little Inchie, I asked him if he could help me put on the just-delivered Depend pants. He willingly agreed to help me out. I got the pants pulled up, and that instant, the pain level from Little Inchie trebled! It was torture! I soon changed my mind, and at the same time, self-loathing erupted when I realised what I’d done… Again!I ordered the wrong size pants, Small instead of large! I’d pissed myself off, something wicked! The genitals were crushed as the catheter tube pulled tight! I grabbed the scissors post-haste and cut the PPs off. Then I asked the lad if he’d help me put on a pair of normal PPs. He was patient with me and assisted me once more. The pain continued anyway, off and on, without evident causation? These white pants are so thick that I think they catch Little Inchie more than the slimmer ones, but they are just as effective as the Depend ones. I ensured the lad was treated to nibbles and drinkies by showing my appreciation for his time. It was his last night shift call, and I felt a smidge sad at keeping him from getting home.
After he’d departed, I made a brew of Glengettie. I took this snap with the usual blotches on it. Nice colouring, all the same.
I made up a waste bag and got on with the blogging, albeit stumblingly and error-ridden. These white pants continued hurting things below. I took an extra Codeine, hoping it might ease things. Huh! Of course, it did nothing to help pain-wise.
Carer Kimberley arrived. She knew I was in pain and showed concern; bless her. I told her of the earlier woes with Little Inchie. I decided to hand her the box of 30 Depend pants: no, 29 now I’ve tried on and scissored off one pair. Hahaha! My wondering wrongly cost me a good bit of cash! But thought that if I sent the box to Meridian to issue or use someone else… with less of a midriff on them, and they have also been catheterised, then they could possibly use them in the event that they run out! ♬ If I can help somebody as I grovel along, Help somebody with Protection Pants or a song If I can help somebody from doing wrong, Do a bit of good before I’m gone… Then, my living shall not be in vain! ♬
I then ordered some large protection pants from the Amazon site. I made double-sure I’d ordered the correct size this time! Well, I did that last time (Well, I thought that I had) and still got it wrong, didn’t I? These were also dearer, but they looked more comfortable and seemingly had a waistband on them. We’ll see when they arrive. Amazon said they would deliver on Tuesday, which is good cause I’m going to Nottingham City Hospital tomorrow. To have the knees and ankles checked for Arthritis and Cartilage problems. Now there’s a word... problems! I just had a glancing idea for an ode, then. I’ll make a note and try it out for tomorrow’s Ode… then again, maybe not. Cause the lift to the City is coming really early, and I need to get things ready to go with me, they gave me a list… When I find it, I’ll check what’s on it. I must finish blogging early today to do the shower & ablutions and ready the clothing. I hope that a carer comes in the morning to help me with the pants and trousers, socks and shoes on, make sure I’ve got everything sorted and make sure that the flat is left safely… I’m nervous now, just thinking about what can go wrong! There’s no limit to that!
There were so many blotches on this snap of a puffer cloud that I was disappointed. I’ve tried cleaning the lens with a cleaner stick and impregnated tissues. Yet still they appear? Such are the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the ghosts, wraiths, spectres, cacodaemons, apparitions, and other grotesqueries that haunt the hallways and lobbies, searching for Inchie to curse with lousy luck, create ambiguities, abstrucities, perplexities, misfortunes and botherations, to scare. Worry and confuse me! Cataract Katie, Neuropathy Pete, Doreen Dementia and Incogniscent Iris are the main culprits. There are others, of course.
There are beautiful clouds in the sky. But I suppose that’s where one would expect them to be. Hehehe!
I took this one from the balcony without opening the windows. I can see just one botch in it, which is hard to differentiate amongst the clouds.
The day catheter bag nearly caught me out yet again, with it suddenly filling up so quickly.
Carer Colin, I think it was, came on the next visit. He was a pleasant lad, but I often found it hard to hear what he was saying.
Later, the sun burst through, and I took this shot of the virtually mud-less end car park. A jolly good mixture of vehicle colours was on show for our perusal. The light blue one, as per usual, parked on the yellow chevron ‘do-not-park-here’ lines. But hey, why should I bother?
Getting a smidge darker out there now. Another gorgeous selection of clouds to find figures in!
Then, blow me, if half an hour later, out came the sun again, forcing her way through the ever-darkening clouds. Mayhap, a ‘Goodnight all!’ message? Hehehe!
Better get some fodder sorted out, then… off to the kitchenette, and I conjured up a simple meal for a simple, tired old man. I enjoyed this one, especially the cunningly cooked potatoes in the crock pot that I sliced while still hot, sprayed with oil, and put into the preheated oven for ten minutes with the vegetable pastie. I ate it all up, washed the utensils and plate, and swiftly fell asleep watching the goggle box.
Carer Richard arrived. He sorted the medications, and I asked him to remove the diabetic socks. I asked him if he could call earlier in the morning and explain the hospital visit. Said my farewells and climbed into the hospital bed so kindly supplied for me. It took a while for me to get into a position that didn’t give pain from the catheter tube, and I was soon off on the land of nod. Ahhh!
