Woke at 07:20ish hrs: After what must have been one of the worst nights ever, for the repetitive nodding-off and jarringly springing waking again, minutes later! Pains from and the bladder side of the stomach. This had me a smidgeon worried! announced the arrival of , who seemed up for it, until the yawning began. He’s struggling to get sleep the same as I am. poor lad. Richard got the medications given and went to check the non-prescription drawer for out-of-date products. Which resulted in two, I say two 15l carrier bags of stuff to throw away! He’s a good lad to me! I had to nip into the wet room for the third wee-wee of the morning. The precious ones were flowing decently; this one was back to having to force things out and getting only a sprinkling… but this time with a difference. The stink was the worst I’ve ever smelt in 76 years of weeing! It was repugnant! Not that I understand much about it, but I got the idea that now the flowing was starting again, the old stored liquid in the bladder may have been being forced out? I mentioned it to Richard, who smiled and said I know. I smelt it and heard you cursing about it, talking to yourself! It really annoyed you didn’t it? I’ve never heard you swear so much! He was spot-on the button with his comment. Hehe! I really thought the urine infection was on its way back. Richard departed with the two bags of out-of-date medications and two bags of general waste with him for me. Richard even made me a brew of tea! He may call on me for the late check visit but was not sure. I hope he does, he always does his best to cheer me up and have a smile or two, and that’s precious! However tired he is.
As I got back to get the spud in the slow cooker, Herbert, my noisy neighbour above, started his bang-banging. I wonder what he’s making today? I got to drinking the mug of tea that Richard made for me and gave me a good shake. Thus I spilt the mug of tea… she’s been so kind lately as well, but she caught me out this time. I swore, cleaned up the mess and made another one. I took these shots of the view from the kitchen window while waiting for the kettle to boil again.
The top one had the moon just disappearing from view on the horizon. Why it came out so dark. I know not.
The second one was a mystery to me? How that one came out so light is another mystery to me!.
The third one came put as it looked to the eyes. The bottom field with the housing at the back, no wonder the frost, according to the computer, was -2°c!
The last one was another disappointment. I tried to brighten it a bit, but I ended up with a white sky, and still, the houses were unclear? . started off next. But this didn’t bother me too much because the pains from the bladder seemed to be lessening. What’s going on in there? Herbert went into another bout of almost musical banging about. I think he dropped a sledgehammer at one time. Hope he’s not injured himself at all.
It took me a long time, but I got the Tuesday blog updated and sent off to WordPress. Then, during an hours-worth run of wee-wee taking, I got the Pinteresting of some photos done.
WordPress Template preparing next. That went well. Then made a start on this blog. arrived but did not press the door chime. I pointed this out to him, and we had a laugh about it. Made my point that I could have been using the bucket and needed to know when someone was about to come in to give myself time to shout not to come in yet. Still, a nice lad. We had a little natter and a laugh.
Ah, well, back up to Stage Two Red Hypertension again. Can’t win ’em all, can you? Well, I can’t. Hehe! It’ll be lower tomorrow, just you see! EQ told me, that he is rarely wrong.
Was getting noisy again. This time I replied with a clout of two of my own on the top of the high bookcase, but only the same amount of bangs and thuds that he’s sent down to me over the next few minutes. Not that it stopped his banging about, of course. Thud, clunk…
announced the arrival of . She told me the fire alarm was going off, but I could not hear it in the flat.
She issued the medications, and I asked her to check the taps for me on leaving. But I wouldn’t let her go until she told me the fire alarm had finished.
we took this photo of an engine sown below outside. Others arrived later.
The alarm was still ringing ten minutes later. A live one, mayhap, this time?
Carolynne and I went out into the flats’ lobby. I could hear the alarm going out there. I opened the door a bit, and both of us could smell burning!
I told her to come back into the flat until the alarm stopped. Which she did.
As we were both coming in, she said the alarm had stopped. Off she went. I hope the lifts were working again for her; I imagine they would have been turned back on now the alarm had stopped.
The temperature now showing is minus 1°c. I wonder why it keeps changing from Celsius to Fahrenheit? Hello, it’s just changed to a snow warning icon?
There’s scum, and there is Scum. The lousy inhuman SCUM that can do this without checking or getting help, should be hung!Then again, I truly think that Parole Board members who free convicted killers to kill again should be hung as well.
I wonder what the shitbag’s reasons were? In a stolen car? No insurance? No licence? Wanted on a warrant? Drink driving? Or maybe all of these things.
I bet the judge lets them off with a dangerous driving charge.
Some smart-arsed lawyer will earn his money defending them and conning the condemnable judges in which we are supposed to have faith and belief. Until your daughter is killed by them again, as the overpaid pathetic Parole Board sets them free early on licence… Grrr!
Better get something to eat, then. Oh, I’ll check to see if any new figures have come through for Covid for Nottingham first. Aha, got to these numbers through the Nottingham Evening Post’s links. Not sure of the period it covers, but is the latest one on it.
Hello, hello, hello! and . Is this not a Boll-Weevil I have on my finger?
Gawd Blimey, please say no; I don’t want an infestation of them again!
This one was on the draining board in the kitchen. I shall keep my eyes peeled while making the meal for any more of the little blighters! Oh, please, no!
Oh, heck, I missed these pictures I took during the day.
The top one looks like late afternoon.
The middle one this morning?
Well, I think it was. Maybe, perhaps, possibly, mayhaps, presumably. in all likelihood and possibility, taking all things into consideration, it’s likely that I may be right or wrong…
The evening and last one, I think I took whilst (I’m almost sure) was here with the fire engine viewing.
Of course, it could have been anytime, really.
This time, I must get the food prepped. A simple fayre for a simpleton fella! Cottage pie, the slow-cooker cooked for wight-hours big potato, with liquid smoke added to the spud, and BBQ sauce to the cottage pie. I don’t ask a lot... I don’t get much, either. Hahaha! But I did enjoy this dishful and the following Vegan Soya lemon yoghourts.
I then launched into mission-impossible mode! Trying to get to sleep and stay asleep. It was a bridge too far, an extremely difficult, nay, impossible, unattainable, forlorn, unexcogitable, hopeless task! I got the pots washed, and checks were done.
Within minutes of getting settled in the £300, used, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly Kari-beige coloured, crumb containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner, I floated off into what I thought was going to be, a deep sleep.
A few minutes later, I woke up calmly. (No jerking a jumping at all!) That was the end of my kipping!
My body was telling me I needed sleep. But, it was not to be.
I even put the TV on in hopes of the averts helping me to drop off. It didn’t help! I lay there hoping, praying and swearing to myself, for Gawd knows how many hours. Then around 07:10hrs in the morning, rang out and almost reluctantly, I limped to the door to let in.
06:10hrs: I woke up in the usual fashion with a jerk after having already woken up several times in a similar fashion. Had a wee-wee, quick wash, utilised the , the first time, which was followed by four more by midday! Changed into socks, PP’s, trews and dressing gown.
The second visit to the, . Made a brew of Glengettie. Got some spuds cooking in the slow cooker.
Got the fridge dates checked. There were some I could not see or decipher, thanks to , and the foggy, not to mention . Took a snap of a large number of vehicles this morning down on Chestnut Way in front of the Woodthorpe Court block of flats.
Made up some waste bags; I had to dish even more of the Asda potatoes that had gone green overnight. Got the computer on and had a go at the free find three logos competition.
Not doing any worse this year; my record stays a two (February).
All other times it was one, like today.
Got on CorelDraw and Word to make this template.
Back for the 3rd visit.
Then an amazing thing happened. What a Shock!
Mr Fries, Liberty-Global Virgin Media went down. Humph! How do they get away with it, being such rubbish and overcharging idiots like me for a pathetic service? And Fries still gets his phenomenal salary and guaranteed bonus?
Not that I’m jealous of the Smoke & Mirrors; financially manipulative man, of course.
Arrived, and it was nice to see him. He was yawning at the end of his shift. Got the medications sorted, and we had a mini-natter. He checked the taps, stove and lights left on for me. Richard found some medications out of date, which we wrapped and threw away.
number four visit was activated. this time, only just got there in time. This is a problem because I need to go out to get some money. At this rate, I dare not go out, but will still need the cash to keep paying bills. A dilemma here!
Made a brew of Glengettie tea and eventually got back on the computer. Updated the Sunday blog and sent it off to WordPress.
and Ty arrived for the second check visit. Ty helped me with the Amazon confusion I was in. I took another Paracetamol cause the bladder was still playing up pain-wise.
Rang out, and the DVT Warfarin nurse came in and did the INR blood test for me.
A different nurse this time seemed in a rush, but pleasant enough.
Visit number five was attended to. With the evacuations in control of Trotsky Terence and a few close calls, I may have to leave getting out to get some cash for fear of getting caught out? Leaving me in a quandary: if things are the same tomorrow?
I got a text message from Asda telling me of the shortages and substitutes on today’s order. Oh, dearie me… Another cock-up on my behalf! I thought I’d cancelled this order when I made the one for Sunday. Apparently not!What a clot! In fact, this got me self-hating and cursing at myself!
As I made a start on this template, I changed my mind. And decided to get the done instead. Fancy me equivocating? Ahem! Off to the wet room with the clothing needed for after. Hope the shower still works and there is enough hot water to get a shave safely.
Commenced: The visit… erm, six is it? Was needed. I’m becoming something of an expert on the Throne! Hehe! Good job I didn’t go out to get some cash, after all. My fears of the shaving cuts were right. At least eight cuts were gleaned; I thought I was going to break the record… but it was close. Another couple and I would have.
The showering was a little farcical all around. Hit my head on the power box – Twice! Dropped the picker-upperer when trying to retrieve the loofah and then head-butted the tiles when I lost my balance bending down to get it! All this pales into insignificance compared to the pain that came from , and him getting crushed in the process! Crying was an option I had considered at the time…
But getting out of the shower and stubbing my against seemed to be more important at that specific time. The language that I spouted was crude, common, foul and naughty! So much so that I surprised myself, and a sense of guilt overcame me. I gave myself a lecture for being so generic in my vocabulary.
Then, I dropped the bleach bottle as I was cleaning the bowl… no need to say what started again, is there? !!!
When getting dressed and pulling up the trousers with the picker-upperer, I dropped it and unthinkingly bent down to try and catch it – The only thing I achieved was . How I didn’t cry, explode or commit suicide, I don’t know for sure.
I was giving the much splashed with wee-wee WC a clean and disinfecting with Dettol, and arrived. I think if I could have got the tie on the trouser waist undone in time, all this would not have been necessary?
Jo-Anne got the medicines sorted out and issued. We had a little natter, and off she had to go. I think she checked the taps during the visit, as she helped me sort out wet room things. Bless her!
As Jo-Anne was leaving, three letters arrived, and she handed them to me.
The first was from the NHS Hazelwood, The Coppice Hospital. I assume this is for the first brain Scan to be done. I hope they find one; cause Dementia Doreen certainly has done!Haha!
The second was the INR Results; at first, I thought there was no way they could have gotten this to me on the same day? It turned out to be the one done on 28th November! No wonder I couldn’t find it when the nurse asked me for it earlier.
The last letter was the bill for the Carers services. It says the cost to pay will be £354.24…
I’m bloody fed up with myself at the current moment. I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running… again. AGAIN!
Everyday life is such a battle nowadays.
Peripheral Neuropathy, Diabetes, Neurotransmitters dying. The eye problems’, Saccades-Sandra, Glaucoma Gladys, Cataracts Katie. And mayhap the worst conundrum of them all, Doreen’s Dementia. With Duodenal Donald, Ann Gyna, Reflux Roger, and now the temporary members of my Ailments Club as well. , Bladder Belinda, Trotsky Terence, Colin Cramps, Toe-Stubbing Thomas. Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Devlin’s Deafness, and occasionally the Mind-Blanks… All are liable to attack at any time… ad do too!
Take the PN-inspired, I wish someone would take them. They can last from a few seconds to at night when lying down, half an hour or so. Most embarrassing when I am, say, in a bus queue in Bulwell, everyone else in the shelter scattered when the leg dance kicked off, and a minute later, a policeman appeared looking askance at me, asking if I’d be drinking or taking drugs! I’m talking myself into a depression here! I’d better leave this subject now.
The unexpected Asda delivery arrived after had not long gone.
The deliveryman took the things through to the kitchen for me and put them in the boxes as well.
I happened to see the four substituted for Cottage Pies, Lasagnas and asked him to take them back, which he did gladly enough; bless him.
The potatoes that arrived yesterday, had all gone green now and had to be thrown away.
Today’s lot looked a lot fresher, though.
They substituted semi-skimmed weak milk for the full cream again. The coffee for the nurses and carers that were not available yesterday but did arrive today.
On yesterday’s order, I’d asked for three different types of bread and got none.
I did better today; I asked for the same three but got one. The Sourdough rolls.
I had a heck of a job-making room in the fridge to get the food in it.
Unfortunately, there were so many items that either did not have a sell-by date on them (that I could find), or the printing was just not big enough for me to recognise.
One good thing, though, is I might be near-bankrupt with all this massive Dementia Doreen-inspired food buying, but I shouldn’t starve for a while anyway. Hehehe!
The two more packs of the Asda brand Soya Lemon Yoghourts are now ensconced with yesterday’s two packs, and I now have sixteen mini tubs of the stuff. I must ask Richard or one of the other carers to check on the use-by or best-before dates on them for me.
I’ve got a pack of the new BBQ beans in the saucepan, with some 7-Vegetable sauce added, some soya bacon bits, and finally, a good splodge of BBQ sauce will be added when I get around to eating it for supper.
Arrived on his evening checking visit. He asked what I was cooking, saying it smelled nice… I’d left the heat on the saucepan and the oven on! Good job that Richard called. Most likely, he saved the meal for me. I added the mushrooms to the bean stew, ready to heat up later I was deep in concentrating on doing this blog, and smelt nowt? The look in Richards’s face said, erm… well… . Hehehe! Richard took the waste bags with him after we’d had a little natter.
I used the tablet splitter to half a few Warfarins in advance for the carers for a few days. I don’t want them slicing their fingers.
I realised I’d forgotten to put this photo on the blog. So I did. Better late than never. I think I took this about 05:00hrs, or thereabouts, as the street lights on Mansfield Road were just being turned on. Then, I turned off the computer and concentrated on getting the bean & potato meal prepared for consumption. I’d added some Ben’s liquid smoke into the potatoes, which were cooked in the crock-pot for over eleven hours on low. So they absorbed the flavour into the skin and tasted Wunderbar! As did the mixture of BBQ beans, soya imitation bacon bits and the 7-Mediterranean vegetable sauce with basil passata. Thought I’d made too much at first, but I masticated my way through it and ate the lot of it! Flavour Rating: 8.4/10, lovely!
Washed the pots, settled down, and sleep came easily. And this time, I only woke up jerkily four times during the night. Grrreat!
05:00hrs: I sprang almost energetically awake for the umpteenth time. Grasping what brain cells were active, I pondered over getting up or nodding off again.
The decision was made the moment I sensed movement from the rear end building up, followed by a wet emission of air! A sort of long silent phlutt!
The stomach ache had all but gone while I was motionless trying to kip, but the very second I moved to hasten to the Porcelain Throne, the agony returned. Off to the . : ❶ Fumbling, I tried to get into the wet room ASAP, for the action was starting on its own accord.
❷ I hit my shoulder on the door frame, that set of .
❸ The tie on the trousers got stuck, and I could not get the pants down in time!
❹ Before I’d serried on the Throne, the action started. And it was in full control of . Semi-liquid. You can imagine the mess I had to clean up!
❺ Just to add to the confusion, when I was mopping and disinfecting, I knocked over the glass bottle of olive oil. Yes, it broke this time! Trying to clean up an olive-oiled wet room floor is not easy, I can tell you. Thank heavens for loads of kitchen towels I had in and the super picker-upperer to use.
Then, Oh, the joy of joy…
❻ I needed to use the again! But being where I was at the time, about 6 inches away from the Throne, I got things down in plenty of time.
I think the Urine Infection has moved to the bladder?
I took a couple of morning photographs from the kitchenette window.
The top one is a little blurry, but the sky looks just as it does in the photograph.
O hung out of the window smidge to take this shot of the car park on Chestnut Way.
I went back to the wet room with as much haste as I could muster. Far better this time. I got all settled well before the Trotsky Terence controlled semi-liquid flowed from the innards! Being in the wet room again, I decided to do the ablutions.
No doer, it was a little early for using the noisy shower yet.
Do, I had a strip wash, teggies and shave.
I’m not sure for certain, I couldn’t see the nape of the neck, but I reckon I got away with just two nick shaving! . I think the legs and ankles looked a lot better.
Pale yet blotchy skin, yes, and the toes peripherals were still a different colour to the rest of the foot.
I then tackled, mayhap one of the riskiest of dressing jobs! Sock Glide Glenda! And came out of it… ready for this? UNINJURED! And that was after putting on a pair of long Diabetic bamboo socks, as well. DOUBLE … No Triple!
Arrived, not seen him for a while. We had a natter after he did the medicationing. He checked the taps were not left running, and took the waste bags with him for me.
Got a message from George-Asda, telling me that the dressing gowns will be coming today between 12:00@14:00hrs. It’s now 13:35hrs; we’ll see.
I went through this yesterday, and it is telling me it’s on its way. Oh, of course, it never came. I have little confidence in them.
Eventually, I got the Saturday blog sent off to WordPress. My friend Bill had done a blog. I had a look at it, liked it, and commented. Civil rights; Gone wrong in the USA.
Came for the short check visit. Gave me the Peptac and a Paracetamol. Checks the taps, and he departed. Nice lad.
I’d finished the blackcurrant spring water and delved into the c1962 Hopewells sideboard, with the hanging-off door and unclosable drawers, and started on the Tonic Water with added orange juice.
I saw the Haribo marshmallows and was sorely tempted. But resisted! Got the done.
Return figures I put them in the NHS analyser and was pleased to see that they were still in Hypertension – 1 Red.
I sense that the figures will improve.
Not the foggiest idea of how or why, but it seems that my EQ s confident that things will improve? We shall see tomorrow!
Hello, back to the , better this time.
Arrived. Did the checks.
Then I got settled to watch the England v Senegal match.
Not a great match. Senegal was, at times, the superior side, I thought. It was hard work, but the lads got through it.
My worry now is if they play the same against France, it’s not going to be a pretty thing.
Arrived after the match had finished. Nice to see him again.
Tried to get to sleep, but it wasn’t good. Kept constantly waking up with a jump.
All night long, wee-weeing, most often with less than a minute in between! Every one painful, but barely a trickle came out: Compared to yesterday evening and this morning, were poles apart, directly opposed to each other! At least I did have a good morning on Monday, and I got some sleep in. It was the rest of the day’s events that went all pear-shaped on me.
I gave up the early hours of trying to get to sleep. There were a few occasions when, by the time that I got back in the second-hand, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, grungy, pukin gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, grungy, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 moth-eaten, pukingly-beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner, I had to get up again for another 2 fluid ounces worth of weeing! If that much! It was driving me crazy. The computer stood there, tempting me to get on it. But the way I felt, there was no way I could concentrate.
Then the feeling of cold and shivering-like sensations came over me. I don’t think I was sweating; it felt more like some Herbert walking over my grave? Then as I was typing this in the morning, well, late afternoon, I realised I must have gone on about this dilemma when doing the updating of the Tuesday blog. So decided that repetition is not a good idea. It may result in a reduced the huge, vast number of followers and readers of my blog. And they are both such nice people.
Again, the only things I can recall are what was written in the memory notepad. So it’s unlikely to be one of my more detailed dairies, sorry. Although some bits are clearish in the grey cells. Esther’s visit to do the laundry and overcharge me again. The Evening Carer, Carolynne, my, leaving two taps running! And my burning the meal. But at least up to now, the wee-weeings were a lot less than yesterday and this morning. Still, next to nothing coming out, mind you.
One thing that didn’t change, was my feeling so cold all day. Brrr!
I took the extra clothing off and replaced it with other heavy-duty gear. Started composing the ode to last night’s farce. I took me hours & hours. Most of it was spent correcting errors.
Took these views from the kitchenette window. One, the bottom was of the car park on Chestnut Way, in the block of flats.
Where I’m feeling so sorry for missen. No help
with sorting out things I cannot read from the Coppice Hospital. Now this new bug or whatever it is.
Hey-Ho!
I did eventually get the Ode done. But now I don’t think it is any good.
Depressed again… but nothing like on Tuesday.
It must be Sods Law: Just when I needed the calmingness and help of my friend and, ; He gets put onto another site. He helps by going the extra mile, which is comforting, and much-appreciated help. Especially now that Doreen Dementia is getting at me more and more. I feel a bit cheated in a way. All self-pity I think. You could not believe the things I could no longer do for myself. not to mention , , I’d better not forget, , and the potentially lethal killer; . they can have me over in a flash if I bang them in a . Even the can cause problems when I start to panic, rushing back inside to check if the lights, taps or the stove has been left on. Ah, that reminds me! This very day, I left two hot water taps running. Burnt the shoulder and left the potato in the crockpot for eight hours. I’m not diving up[ on this, its that late in the morning again, I’ll do a rescue job on them -microwave, for breakfast.
The morning carer failed to issue the Omeprazoles. (Anne Gyna) Not hod fault, it was mine. I was nattering away giving him my sob story from yesterday. While he was prepping of the medications. I’d usually hold back on the nattering until the meds are sorted. But not this morning. I was so uptight with bladder trouble and no sleep for two nights.
Why am I up now? It’s nearly 02:00hrs already
I’ll stop now and try to rescue the food. Thankfully, I lost two hours of whatever I did.
The evening Carer arrived. Checked the taps for me; not many of them do that.
Then, the ankle ulcer started to smart a bit. But it didn’t look inflamed? Then everything stopped again.
EVERY TWO MINUTES, WEE-WEES RETURNED AND STAYED ALL NIGHT UNTIL AROUND 09:00HRS IN THE MORNING. THEY THEN GOT WORSE!!! HERE ARE SOME PHOTOS FOUND ON THE FILE. Mud Slide in Car Park. Long story, but I’m. struggling to type. Three days without sleep now.. Not feeling good. the wee-weeing continues. I pass one; they are all so painful… And two minutes later need another. Took an extra Furosemide, hoping it. may help me to pass.
No Help for Cataract or Mental Hospital Appointments Came
THAT’S MY LOT! – SO TIRED! ONE POORLY IN-PAIN PEASANT HERE
A proper short one this time, sorry. But, it took me that long to get the. Monday blog updated (15:00hrs) & I must rush cause I’m out tomorrow for the Covid booster. TTFN.
Up at 03:30hrs: Worked on yesterday’s ode until 05:30hrs. Then off to the Porcelain Throne. Easier today! I set the alarm off by accident in the dressing stage, didn’t know I’d done it, but I thought I heard a voice in the flat. Had a look around and saw the alarm box flashing. Apologised.
Morning Views
Richard arrived, Yawningly – he was so tired. But, we managed a little natter and laugh, even a moan about things to each other. He was reluctant to take the freebies in thanks, but I sulked, and he took them. Hehe!
Was noisy again.
I literally got lost in everything I tried to do today.
Got a call from a woman. The only words I caught were Virgin Media?
I got some potatoes on with the black bean sauce; I hope it works out alright.
In the amber, nearly the green!
Grrreat!
PHOTOS?
CARE IS DUE SOON MUST GET SOME MOSH SORTED
Just getting the meal served up, and Kylie arrived.
She helped me prep the meal. Then got the medications given. Had a laugh and natter, which was nice. Took the bags with her as she left.
04:45hrs: I rose from a terrible night’s sleep, again full of jumping awakes, yet felt calm and unconcerned? I rose with relative ease from the c1968, £300, second-hand, decrepit, Haemorrhoid Harold-testing, sleep-deterring, nauseatingly beige-coloured, not-operational recliner. Almost on auto-pilot, I hobbled into the kitchen, put the kettle on, then took a strained, painful wee-wee, washed and made a mug of Glengettie Gold tea.
At this stage, the farcicality of yesterday’s hospital visit came back to my mind. Suddenly doing anything whatsoever lost its appeal. I got the computer on and went to the WordPress comments sections. I had the usual mass of communications on my latest blog to read and reply to. I did them both straight away.Then visited the WP Reader section. I did enjoy that. Checked the emails… I saw the promised Email from the Diabetes team confirming my joining the weekly sessions on a face-to-face basis; at first, remembering, this put me on a semi-high. Until I got to the location.
I didn’t realise that it was not at the Sherwood Social Centre. Where I was assured, it would be last year. Oh, no, (I should be so lucky!), it’s four miles away, in Bulwell! So, now I had to work out what buses I could get, hoping one would take me all the way from the flats. So, I set to searching Mr Google to find what was and wasn’t available. I’m afraid it wasn’t good news.
Due to Covid and lack of drivers, the service stops at Top Valley, not Bulwell! I looked at other options, but Dementia Doreen was not helping. I could get a bus down into Sherwood, then another to Bulwell, and return in the same route, but I’d have to remember the bus times, not be late etc., and that would test Doreen and me too much. I looked at the Email sent me again and sent a message. Explaining why I can’t get there and asking if there was any chance of the Sherwood Diabetes sessions opening. I had explained this to the Sherwood people, I can get there walking if necessary, getting back up the hill, it’d have to be a bus, but I reckon I would cope with that. Awaiting a reply from the gentleman. I’m getting all uptight again now! This investigation into the buses has cost me three hours! Why can’t I get through just one day without something going wrong?
Carer Joe came late on, and it was off to the Porcelain Throne as soon as the lad left with his cold drinkie from the fridge. Back to the Emails. Petal-Lisa had sent me a marathon. That took me over an hour to absorb and reply to. But it was a pleasure, and she had a little sleep recently, which cheered me up no end. Bless her! A treasure she be! ♥♥♥
Got back to sort more emails out, and Sister Jane rang me. We had a decent long chinwag, and a few smiles erupted. I had to cut it short, though; the Porcelain Throne activity needed tending to. Stinky, messy and painful. Humph!
Made a brew of Thompson’s Punjana.
And took some photos of the front views, starting with my much-missed visiting Tree-Copse in the bottom field. Boy, I do miss visiting it. Sob! Taking this picture of the front car parking on Chestnut Way, and spotted an ambulance below, at the front doors of my beloved Woodthorpe Court. I wondered if it might be Francis coming back from the hospital? I certainly hope so. I’ll get a move on with this blog, interruptions permitting, and go down to see if she’s in. I took a photo of the muggers-delight area to the left of the flats. Not many people around today? Cracked on with the top graphics and ode for this blog. I must get the ablutions done as well. A jolly good shave, shower and sh…, well never mind that. Hehehe! Back in a while, smelling all nice, hopefully uninjured, not bleeding, and in a happier frame of mind. TTFN! I’m back. Wait for this… Shaving…All good on the scrubbing up stakes! Not a single cut or nick! Ankle ulcer all calm, DVT veins have dived like submarines from the sea’s surface. The legs and feet did look a smidge like they were off of a cadaver, mind you. I started for a change in the body temperature. Which was more than decent at 34.3°c. It seems to be doing a lot better recently. For weeks it was so low, not now, though. I suppose the hot weather may have some effect on it? Or not. The Blood Pressure, as I believed I forecast yesterday, took a tumble. I think it was 166 on Friday night. Tonight a comfortable SYS 132. DIA 66, and Pulse a smidgeon low at 67bpm. I put the figures in the NHS check site and found I was out of the red altogether, down in the amber. This has never been as low for years! Should I adopt a Smug-Mode? I got the meal cooking and nipped into the wet room for a wee-wee. I hastened hobblingly to the kitchen to see if I’d left the hot water tap running. But no, I hadn’t? Came to wash my hands, and the hot water was cold? Well, it’s about 17:20, so it should be heating up now. Another mystery? I grabbed the Fuji camera to take a picture of the just served up on the tray evening nosh. I somehow managed tsk top take this rather natty photo of the balcony as I picked the camera up? Yet another mystery?. The last of the garden peas, the mushroom pattie and bread! But I did an order for Morrisons via Amazon for tomorrow. No good me having it on Monday, as I’ll be at the hospital, will I not? The Baxters, no, no, sorry, Heinz beetroot from Iceland was farcically hard! I bent the knife cutting into it. Then gave up cause it was too hard on the teeth.
Iceland has let me down a bit this week; apart from the beetroot, the squashed bruised bananas, No Vegan Icecream, No Vegan beefburgers, and the mushrooms that had a sell use-by-date for the day delivered. Oh, and the crushed bread!
Valerie arrived. Told her about the water being cold, and she rang NCH Repairs for me, bless her.
Ten minutes or so after Val left, I started regurgitating the food. Not good! Better get this posted while I can. TTFN.
A simple question, no need to gerrall upset abarght it, me old fruit…
Oh, frug-off! I don’t know where you’ve been, but the last three days have been heaven without you! Wherever you’ve been, can’t yer sod-off back to it…
No, no, no… I’ve been visiting the Morlocks, and I am the first Alto-Ego to do so!
Bollocks!
Ah! Yer see, you really don’t know who the Morlocks are then, do you?
I told you I couldn’t give a rats arse about who they are; why do you want me to know about them, whoever they are? I think…
Ah, but yer doesn’t think, that’s why you’re missing out so much… No! Let me finish…
Oh, go on then… let’s have it…
Well, you smarty-pants know-nothing. The Morlocks inhabit the earth’s inner and underside… and have done for longer than any tellurian life forms have, even before…
Is this going to take long? Only I can feel the need for a crap coming on… which will mean I’ll have had two loads of crap today… Hahaha!
Look Dumbo! This is important; I’m not kidding either. This could benefit both of us, and we can have a lifetime of fame… Well, fair enough, not you, you’re about to snuff it anytime now, at least I’ll be the most famous Alto-Ego ever…
I’m not interested nor bothered about dying – that’s cause you, yer foul-breathed bully Alto, have made me this way. With yer constant putting me down, decrying me, making me so depressed, frustrated and angry, fed-up with failures, this never happened before I found you lurking in my body and mind!
Well, that’s so nice of you to say so, and admit it too! I may have misread you a little. To know that you appreciate all my efforts to maintain your grumpiness, self-hatred and demoralised at all times – I think I
I’ve got to admit it; you’ve done a cracking job. So, go on, tell me about visiting the Morlocks then…
They told me how I could gain some visibility to humans! The Morlocks could see me clearly all the time… but I didn’t like that. I couldn’t sneak upon them, and they knew where I was all the while. No, I shan’t be returning to see them again. Thank heavens, tellurians don’t have this ability! But this gaining part-visibility is excellent! Again, I have supreme and individual capabilities that no other Alto-Ego has! Meaning I can scare the living daylights out of my current human, that’s you, of course. And learn to go fully visible with a bit of training. Of course, your time is nearly up, so I might go a little easy on you cause we’ve been pals for a long time now, and…
‘Ode on mush! Let me get a hold of this. You’re using me as a guinea-pig to practice yer visibility training? After telling me how much yer appreciate my help? You’ll likely give me a heart attack, and my limited time will be shorter…
Oh, yes, did you not see the outlines of weapons on me when I arrived? You should have; I’m a little disappointed that you didn’t, cause I wanted…
Screw you! You scumball! How would you feel of you had a limited life span? You’ve destroyed my self-confidence and frustrated and depressed me; I wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t responsible for giving me Vascular Dementia… Ah! You were laughing at me, you horrible Alto-Ego! I just got a glimpse of an outline of the form you’ve taken…
Keep it cool, man! Well, I say man… Hehehe! No need to start getting new abilities now. You’ve got little time left to use ’em anyway! Why gerrupset? At long last, you’ve worked out that Alto-Egos distribute such ailments… Hold on, yer going red in the face now, that’ll do yer no good, Inchcock!
Why the pluck do you want to give innocent humans a mind-crippling thing like dementia? Are you telling me that you Altos are responsible for the ailment?
Of course, we are, Blunderbrain! It’s the easiest thing for us to inflict on humans – that’s why so many of you get it. Gawd, you’re thick! I mean, it’s not exactly easy, cause when we pass it on to you, we’ve got to wait twenty years before we find out if it has been successful or not, so you must appreciate, we have done it for our own good, yer see…
Gragnangles! How does yer work that out then?
Oh, Inchcock, you are so sad. You cannot see what’s happening at all, can yer?
Worrya mean?
Look at your ailment graphic above, and that’s not got the Kathleen Cataracts, Glaucoma Gladys, or Doreen Dementia on it yet, has it?
Well?
Listen, what’s yer worst worry, not counting being deaf, and can’t see much? Go on; I’ll wait while you muse over it…
Erm, not counting being deaf and can’t see much?…
That’s what I said, no rush, take yer time Inchcock; not too long, cause yer ain’t got a lot of time left, have you?
I’m trying to think here; I don’t need you confusing me more…
Exactly my point!
Wot?
I’ll keep quiet; let you work it out then…
Ponders: Erm, Duodenal Donald and Bladder Belinda have been bad today… Cathies Cartilage and Peripheral Pete have been playing up for a day or two… Dizzy Dennis and Sock Glide Brenda have had me over at the weekend…
Then, I scratched my head in the wet room, and it bled a lot… but I’ve since found out the Warfarin INR blood count was a little out of range; they’ve changed the dosages now. Summat happened on Friday, what was it? Oh, yes, The blood pressure sys went up to SYS 205 and DIA 88, and the Pulse had gone up to 97 bpm. I remember that. And having in the right eye (red-eye) subconjunctival haemorrhaging, which cleared up after two three-a-day days of eye drops? Ah, that’s summat I’d forgotten about. I must ask for some more of the eye drops. Colin Cramps has visited me for the last five nights, Little Inchies Fungal Lesion has been bleeding… and wee-weeing is painful, and sprinkle at the moment. A good job is that I’ve got a large stock of PPs (Protection Pants) in-store in the wet room to use. But Harold’s Haemorrhoids are stinging more lately but not bleeding as often as they usually do… Although the change in the INR level might be causing the bleeding on the arm after a blood taking session?
Even so, forgetting things is mayhaps the worst thing, so it’s Dementia, Doreen?
Yes, Alto, are you still there?
Aye, I’m waiting for you to tell me that it’s Dementia Doreen; that is the worst worry you have!
Well, pickle-my-walnuts! How did you know that?
All part of Alto-Inchie plan and design matey! By giving you Doreen to keep you worried, see how all the other ailments fade into the background?
I’m not sure… I suppose there might be summat in wot you say…
Even my being here, like it or not, takes your mind off of the ailments a smidgeon!
Yea… but we always end up disagreeing, which is not good, is it?
Or, is it indeed?
Anyway, hours ago, I asked you why you had a weapon with you. Well, why?
Just showing off what I learned from the Morlocks, Inchcock. Don’t fret; they are not real weapons. I don’t need them…
Har-Har! What you mean is you cannot fire them… you do not have the capability or physical skills needed to shoot them, innit?
No need to get sarkie with me, mate! It’ll only get me going making you feel tiny, a fool, an idiot, incapable of manual sex, mini-cocked, bald, socially unacceptable, pot-bellied, uncouth, smelly, repugnant, despondent, uneducated, lonely, miserable, uncouth, ugly, uncultured, underprivileged, scatterbrained, and pestiferous. Deserving of condemnation or execration… a totally pathetically inept old, repugnant fart, unwanted and uncared for, a coffin-seeking has been, who…
Has yer finished yet?
For now, yer!
Oh, good. I shall not return the insults, just suggest you go forth and multiply. Hopefully, with you never returning again…
Hahaha! The only reason I’ll not come again will be when you are dead, so keep on wishing, dumbo!
Oh! See yer anon then; in the morning, Alto?
Cheers, cocker!
A much confused Inchcock got ready for bed, did his ablutionalisationing, and climbed into his £300, second-hand bought, c1968, nauseously beige-coloured, not-working, rusty, rickety, crumb-holder of a recliner. And once again sensed the presence of Alto-Inchie, watching him ready for a verbal attack… As if prearranged, they started on a rhyme-a-line verbal battle…
Oh, you back again, come to lickspittle?
See that, no welcome again. Is your nastiness congenital?
Worrever yer want, be quick, cause I need a pittle…
Why can’t you be a little more angelical?
Cause I’m trying to sleep, and along comes you with your prattle…
Oh, that’s nice, to cheer you up I call twice…
Pig-off Alto, you’re the nasty one. Not nice!
Well, me helping you must come at a price!
Sod-off, I’d sooner be visited by lice!
I only came to tell you what day it was, Christ!
I think you are definitely agathokakological!
Your wording is anti-logical…
Tommyrot, you know that I’m sociological…
More like demonological!
Do you know what the words mean you are using?
Well, not all of ’em, but I find it amusing…
Amusing? I cannot allow you any of that, or contentment, entertaining, or smiling!!!
Was not? I’m just asking…
You nitwit, it’s the reason for my being, to cause you pain, confusion and much inconveniencing…
You do that alright, with your constant word-mincing…
Doreen Dementia has got to you again; you’re word misplacing and mispronouncing!
You horrible Alto-Ego, I wish I could give you a trouncing!
Well, that’d be better than us kissing…
Can’t we just calm down and start pleasantly talking?
Nae, you’d only start grumping, moaning and trumping…
That my unwanted, human-hating antisocial Alto would be due to your tormenting!
Well, I have no morals or body, like you who are in a state of decay…
Hey, hey, hey! You’re having a dig at me again. Oh, lackaday!
A?
A? Are you referring to my doomsday!
Yea! When you snuff it into the ether, your body and mind will stray…
No salvation, just nothing forever and a day…
You might try to pray…
But you’re faithless, right or wrong, who is to say?
Your end is nigh, and it makes me sigh; you could be dead by midday! Hahaha!
At least your fatty body will waste away…
Oy, Alto, You are betting sarky and bitchy!
Yes, thank you, it’s just my way…
I suppose I’ve led my life abstemiously…
That’s the spirit; at least your painful, pathetic, sad, pointless existence was led altruistically…
Altruistically? I’ll check that on the online dictionary…
Don’t waste your time Inchcock; your lack of education left you with a mental block…
And what about forgetting things, losing time, dates, days, keys, codes and the odd-sock?
You’ve not had a lot of luck, have yer? Remember when you were conned by the financial Shylock?
Aye, and being shot twice, made redundant three times, heart failure, Mother running away, ending up in the dock?
Duodenal Donald, going deaf, poisoned, being treated with lice, Shock after shock…
There’s a lot of my history you seem to know, Alto? Have you always had access to my memory box?
Oh, yea! From the go, mate. The first word I heard on this assignment was your Mam’s when she said to the midwife, “I don’t want it; throw it in the Trent!”
Cor, you heard it all, so it was true then, but that’s no consolement.
Aye, I saw it all, the fights twixt yer parents, the police collecting Mam for trial and imprisonment…
Oh, and the tin bath hanging outside on the wall in the yard, outside coal house and toilet, you getting bullied at school… yer life then wasn’t exactly suent!
You having your heart broken by Grizelda, playing truant…
Your fumbling attempts with Mavis from the end house when drunk…
Alright! Enough! Imperfect as my memory is, there are some things I’d like to forget, many a stunt…
Now, here you are 70 odd years later, done-in, pissed off, disabled, and languescent…
I remember the happy times when I lived in digs on Wilford Crescent; my life was incandescent!
Me too; I had a bit of a fling with another Alto…
Ah, but yer couldn’t have sex together, though?
Too true, but it was bliss, till she had to go… so sad though…
Why? Let your story flow…
Do you remember a geordie in the digs by the name of Joe?
I certainly do; that was sad. Heart attack, Joe died as he laid a double-six domino…
. Well, my affair of sorts was with Joe’s Alto-Ego…
She was transferred and assigned to another human called Domingo.
Wilford Crescent was good for me, bad for you, but there you go…
Yes, I lost concentration while Alto-Ego Christine was around… my making you miserable and depressed was not so profound…
I never thought of you as being capable of loving anyone…
Yes, to me, from her backside, the sunshine shone!
