– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’m worried about the Grim Reaper,
Not visited in August, now it’s September!
Has something changed his agender?
Last we met, he spoke of a nymph named Rusalka,
A female creature who seeks souls not after…
death, but before, & ferry them to Purgatory,
Each is an illegal immigrant soul-gatherer,
They come in dreams, offering virgins for a fiver,
The Virgin Goddess of the Hunt, Dziewona,
I’ve missed my designated soul-collector,
He was straight-talking, no verbal garniture,
For my last day, he promised me fresh golonkowa…
With sourdough bread & pickled cucumber,
I thought a moment ago that I could smell vinegar,
He said he’d get me in a cell with souls of kvetchers,
He guaranteed to keep me safe from Herr Starmer,
And his lies, bullying and moratoria…
I couldn’t have asked for better…
Me, a mentally-challenged failed rhymester,
When I die, decease, perish, & meet St Peter,
I leave this mortal coil, led by my Grim Reaper,
He will try to become my permanent Carer,
It’s love, I think, though it sounds macabre,
Gawd, I hope he wasn’t a leg-puller! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
She was still shaking when I stirred at 06:15 hours. (Another late one). That might teach me not to shoulder-charge the wetroom door frame… at least, not so often. I had to laugh at myself when I reached down to retrieve the nocturnal catheter bag for emptying – it showed I was still on edge from yesterday’s mishaps. I used my left hand to hold the shoulder in case she had loosened the joint with her overnight rattling and shudderings. Haha! Now, a laugh upon waking may be a sign that things will go better today. Mind you, look what happened to Hitler when he attacked Russia.
Very few photos and news on the blog today. I must try to at least complete yesterday’s blog. If I have the time, I need to complete the 30 templates for September. I know, not a cat-in-hells chance. But I must at least try. Oh, no, just remembered I can use Jetpack, like I did last month. I did it in half the usual time. Now, if only I could remember how I did it. Never mind, there are still unknown challenges to come. Do I sound a smidgeon pessimistic? First kitchenette shot
Evacuation Conrad Constipation Controlled.
Carer Nimra. Body Check. Some new blood-filled swelling was spotted. They were not painful, but Nimta called the Community Nurses. They will send someone to inspect the area. Later decided Monday, not today. This will be no problem.
Amazingly, I completed the templates in record time, despite dealing with numbers.
Morning snap
Seizures are getting frequent. I spent ages in repeated recovery times, doing nothing.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – .<<<>>><<<>>>
Sore throat, cough, something bronchial?
Gargle salted water, no NHS for owt medical,
Cycling on the pavement, a constable…
Gives a lecture, then a clip around the ear,
Nicking coal so you could have a fire?
Another clout around my ear on the agenda,
MPs just didn’t appear to be bribable,
Nothing known then as biopsychosocial,
Although the air was barely breathable,
DC power and electric shocks could be lethal,
School? Maths alphabetisation & survival,
No mobile phones, colour TVs or drones,
12” records with scratchy sounds,
Didn’t go through the lights on amber,
Getting to the moon just didn’t matter,
No such things as the BNP or Asda,
Reading a comic was our adventure,
Years late; See you later, alligator!
A talking & walking test, no alcoholometer,
We bought potatoes 12½d by the barrowful,
Cwt today? Costs £150, astronomical!
Cars? Austin A30, Rovers, Ford Anglia,
Standard Vanguards the police’s option,
Poverty, to us, was the normalisation,
Our nights in were with the mouth organ,
Nights out; A drink, film, hot dog, depression,
Or beers, & involuntarily emptying your bladder,
In every pub or shop, you’d see an Arthur,
They showed colour films at the Astoria,
But they were costly at 2/6, half a dollar!
Despite my having dementia and amnesia…
These things I can still relate to, & remember,
Cause life then held some fun and pleasure,
So, I’m ready to go, whensoever,
Would I like to live again? Never!
<<<>>><<<>>>
Big Iceland order
Fresh foods
More fresh foods
I did get some packets and nibbles.
But the photos seem to have escaped! I CAN’T WORK IT OUT!
Admittedly, it may be the after-effects of the one and only (up to now) Seizure I came out of a few minutes ago.
I’m not grasping the problems or dealing with them very well. Of the eight photos I took of the order delivered, I can only find four. They were on the internal memory. Nothing else. I tried both SD cards and plugged in the transfer thingy, and a couple were there, so I tried again to upload them.
They didn’t show up at all?
I gave up and sulked a little. I tried again but had no luck; now they have also disappeared from the SD card!
I believe the problem is me.
When I tried a third time, I still had no luck, but I did find three meal photos I thought I had lost! When? When? Could they be old or already used? Aha, last night’s!
So, what’s going on?
My grip on things has been loosened!
To make matters worse, the Doctor can’t see me until June. Carer Joe tried to get through this afternoon, but there was a massive waiting queue! I’m giving up now. I’ll see if I feel more with it in the morning. I know. I’ll go to the WP Reader and reply to the masses of comments I have received. Hehehe! Both of them.
Bit of an unnerving spell, this no-gripness!
Can’t recall taking this one
To this scratchy-looking shot
while making the meal
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What did we do when info was ungoogleable?
A history homework exam, no answer. Inexcusable!
The library was closed, and Father was unhelpful!
What date was the battle for Constantinople?
Must I guess? No, the answer must be veridical,
If I fail another exam, I’m in for some ridicule,
How can I avoid risking the vituperable?
Pray to a God or something Mystical?
Miss school? Go the doctor with summat mythical?
No, that would be naughty and cynical,
Maybe give someone a phone call?
We don’t have one; how do I sort out this puzzle?
Visit my doctor, give teacher some tarradiddle,
I’m not a good liar, I’d not be believable,
Use a phone box. Yes, I’ve got a testrill…
Don’t know anyone with a phone… Testicles!
Yes, I do. I could call Auntie Carol,
Off to the GPO box, rained poured down terrible!
Ah, no phone book was available!
I resigned myself to my fate; I was threnetical,
Walked home. The rain died down to a trickle,
Dad’s gone out and locked me out. I’m in a pickle!
My thinking was in three-dimensional!
To me, the problem was not trivial,
The rain poured again, now torrential,
Knocked neighbours door, for shelter and a natter,
No answer, so I went for a soaking wet toddle…
Got in the outside toilet, passed a traditional,
Dad came back; he got a bit physical…
But dry at last, I almost felt triumphal,
Dad said, 1453. Then hit me with his belt buckle! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs: After a night spent more waking than sleeping. I felt surprisingly alert and relatively active, lasting approximately one minute. This was a first for me: I fell out of the hospital bed because I overreached to get at the nocturnal night bag, which, for some unknown reason (well, it was Glaucoma Gladys, really), I thought was leaking. I rushed to get it upright after it fell off the safety bar holder. I landed face down on my slippers and the waste basket, in a semicrumpled painful heap! Then, as I recovered and grasped the bed to haul my gigantic body up, the quilts lost their grip, and there I was on the floor again, covered by the outer quilt and face down this time. I stayed there for a while to get my bearings and breath back. Then, after doing some deep breathing, I set about mountaineering my way up onto the bed. Either I had a seizure or else, inconceivably, I’d got up onto the bed and was sitting there safely, in two minutes! This couldn’t be right. How did I do that so quickly, and I may add, almost painlessly to boot? Had I just dreamt these events? No, the bent waste basket was in sight. Now, put it in the waste chute. Tsk! Then the aches from the bruised arm, and I went into a clearly identified seizure, which I think lasted for five minutes or so. I needed a little longer doing nothing, which I did. Incredulously, I did not feel depressed or angry with myself. I decided to get the ablutions done ASAP and apply some Phorpain gel to the cartilages, back, and neck afterwards. It sounded logical to me. .
I got sidetracked from my plans as soon as I went to check the kitchen for running taps, open doors, or left-on stoves. They were all as they should be.
This morning, the moon was much smaller and had lost its red/orange tinge. Kodak Tim 2 was used to take these snaps of the planet. They are not as good as yesterday’s, which were not as good as the day before.
Well, these went well overall! There were just two nicks shaving. The bowl of water I used to stand in to clean the feet was not tipped over. There were no tumbles in the wet room. And I seemed to get them done quickly—but did I? I was not rushing. The medicalisationing was not so successful. Because I could not reach my back to put the ointment on the bruises, Acne or eczema on my back. I’ll ask the carer, to help when he comes. As usual, the worst medicating bit was applying and rubbing in the stinging ointment . Not that it bothered me, of course. Ahem! I got the pain gel cream on and .
Duties.
Trotsky Terence had an even greater bearing on this morning’s evacuation. Phoo! The stink almost overpowered me. Soft yet sticky and smelly. Karki coloured. Eurgh!
Another of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, ailments, seizures, Glaucoma Gladys, Peripheral Neropathy, dying neurotransmitters, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, is how I recovered so well after the two tumbles? Feeling alright again now. The bruises and back pain are bothering me, but nothing is serious.
I made myself my first mug of Glengettie tea since last Thursday. I’ve never gone three days without a brew of tea since I’ve been here! I noticed it was only 07:20 on the clock calendar, which matched the computer’s. However, how did I get everything sorted out, abluted and on the computer so quickly?
Carer Arhem arrived as I was about to hoover the hallway. (It never got done!) The lad put on my diabetic socks, issued the prescription medications, and reminded me of the vitamin B12 tablet. We chatted for a minute or two, as best we could, and then he did an Alert Alarm Battery Check with the NCC Control. We said our “Taras,” literally. I explained what it meant a week ago, and he uses it every call now. Bless him. He’s a lovely lad.
Keeps visiting for shorter periods but more often today, uo to now anyway. , and were regular, and the were more active than ever
I took this shot through the balcony doors. Then, the fatigue hit me earlier in the day than ever. It might be connected to the tumbles. I still can’t understand how I’m not in worse condition. I’m not complaining, mind you. Oh, no! I am more tired than ever. I have to just stop.
Never got back on the computer again today. I’ll try to catch up tomorrow. Not good this. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was once a young, fit, healthy, wise-guy Girls? I kept out a watchful eye, With my lower regions, I know not why, It was harder then, with no wi-fi. >>>>><<<<< Life then started to become stunted, The body aged, it became transfigured, My sense of balance, weaved & wobbled, My thoughts came oddly technicoloured. >>>>><<<<< Ageing makes you crocheted & crusted, Arithmophobia, dates, figures & numbers… Mistakes galore, you feel daunted, Mental capacity, slowly degenerated! >>>>><<<<< After Toileting, the room must be fumigated, Constipation? Teeth need to be gritted! Facts, figures? Are at best guesstimated, Decision making? Wrongly, not at all, or belated, >>>>><<<<< Instructions not understood, misinterpreted, In conversations, words can be misheard, Burning food, taps left on, safety neglected, Leg lesions medicated and bandaged daily medicated and bandaged, >>>>><<<<< Living in a crime-filled neighbourhood, No help with the computer – I spit blood! Impossible to get life orchestrated, No confidence can be radiated! >>>>><<<<< Feeling defeated, doubted, rejected, All I write needs to be repeatedly subedited, Self-disgust, self-taunted, vision tinted, Fears & worries are now ever accessed! >>>>><<<<< Dark Dank Duncan Depressed, Labour in power, as antisocialists, Starmer, the bleakest Conservatist! I hope death brings peace and rest, If so, I’ll be so blessed!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had much better sleep in the bed last night.
The problem was, I think I’d had nocturnal seizures, possibly. Because the quilt and covers were all over the place, and the pillow was on the floor. Somehow, I’d changed the settings on the bed mover control. It’s hard to believe how I slept at all. I was right at the top of the bed, yet bent forward so much, with a dip halfway down the bed, and the end and top bits raised to the maximum.
I woke up at 05:00. By the time I’d refigured the bed to a faux semi-comfortable position, ready for use tonight or in the morning, it was 06:00- Tsk!
Here I go again, sensing some challenges may present themselves to me this Thursday. Everything was normal, then! Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I detached the night pouch from the day pouch. I was so concerned with the state of the bed. I didn’t realise the night bag was even on. What’s more, I didn’t have any fauxpas, trips or leaks for the hour when the pouch dragged along, entangling itself around my foot and leg! Now I was concerned! How did I manage that? I fear I can only put it down to one thing… are you ready for this?… Good Luck! Now, I don’t say that very often. Especially after the Carer helped me out yesterday. He did a grand job for me. Questions for any God, philosopher or neurologist: Is my luck changing for the better? Will I cope with the shock, or have another stroke? Why did good luck wait nearly 80 years to appear? Will I live long enough to enjoy it? Will it continue? (It didn’t.) Can I get NHS instruction on how to be contented? Hahaha!
Starting with a visit to the . I was back in control. But once the chunks started evacuating, it took a while for them to stop clunking into the water below. More than yesterday’s big dollop!
A stand-up wash. I didn’t have time to shower in case either the nurses or the Iceland delivery came earlier. I strip washed, soaking the feet as I shaved and did the teggies, then moved on to the self-medicating of my problematic areas. Argh! Olive-oiled the ears, sprayed the eyes, Phorpain gelled the knees and cartilages, and ointmentated each Acne and eczema area. As usual, I left the most painful bit to the end. I gritted my teeth, cleaned as instructed, heroically pulled the skin back, and squeezed the ointment in a drop. That was bad enough, but I had to massage it from the outside each time. Self-imposed agony! But it was nothing to a man of my calibre, heroism and upper pain limit. I may even have been singing to myself as I massaged it in.
When I turned on the computer, I realised I had a fair bit to do on yesterday’s blog. It had been the busiest day for years!
As I was making a start, Carer ‘Joe’ arrived. I didn’t ask him to take the socks off cause they were not put on last night. Haha! Maybe I could join a touring fairground group as their Memory Man? Har-har!
My medications were issued. The lad said something about what he planned to do next week in flats the clean-up campaign.
I pressed on with the blog, but then it got busy again. The delivery came. Seven carrier bags worth. I got the fresh stuff away.
4 items unavailable & 2 substitutions. Topped up the nurses & carers shelf with the new Pepsi flavours that came. A well-overfilled filled top cupboard. The danger of falling through the floor into the flat below the cupboard of cans of food. I shouldn’t starve to death for a month or two! Hehe!
Why did I stock up to ridiculous? What made me suddenly panic so over food stores? Am I going mad?
I’m not sure if it’s Peripheral Neuropathy, Cognitive Impairment Iris, Ménière’s disease, Episodic Ataxia, FND, Receptive Aphasia Phyllis, Diabetic Dementia, Absence seizures, or the Myoclonic seizures that may have caused this stupider-than-usual action on my behalf. Would doing such activities that I’ve not done for so long, like cleaning up, wear me out?
I managed to get the blog posted a little later than usual. And the fatigue started to fall.
THE HIGHLIGHT OF THE DAY!
The intercom rang, and I thought it might be the tinned food I’d also ordered from Amazon.
Life lifted, and a smile came over my craggy, aged face. (It does that occasionally). It was my treasured Hristina, the DVT Warfarin Blood Nurse. The heart beat a little faster, and my Angel was soon in the flat.
I mentioned that I’d run out of Enoxaparin-filled hypos. She said if they need you to start stabbing your stomach 8 times a day, they will ensure you get some. That put my mind at rest. She took the blood for testing, and we spoke of something else, but with my heart beating and eyes so busy watching and listening to Hristina—such a wonderfully calming person and so kind. 🤎
I started this blog in the late afternoon.
Then, the Amazon tinned foods arrived! I then had to store these tinned meals on the floor! It’s horrible having a lack of control!
Carer ‘Joe’ arrived and was as aghast as I was at the canned food I bought! No medications were needed. They were, but I forgot to ask for the Peptac and Codeine. I managed to make a brew of tea, and when I got back with it, one of the regular patches was in the regular place on the carpet. Yet I could not find any urine spillages on my legs or slippers. One of the mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, Starmer robbing all we pensioners, and other Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind, logicalty and depressions!
Carer ‘Joe’ came on his teatime visit.
Embarrassingly, the pee-time one as well, haha!
He convinced me that it was not urine because there was no smell. He suggested that I may have spilt the catheter, which needed spring water.
He’s got the measure of me now, he has! Hehe!
Back to this blog. The eyes faded, and the fatigue returned almost instantly. I was so tired and weary.
I foolishly tried to continue this blog. It was farcical and hopeless, so I gave up. So, I’ll be even further behind by morning. Humph!
I’ll try to stay alert enough to get the comments & WordPress reader read. I’ll make the meal later.
Aha! I caught the sunset. Not as good as yesterdays’ But fair for me.
I was expecting a last Carer call, but it’s 21:40hrs now. I’ve probably got confused. Yes, I think I did. Fool! Carer ‘Joe’ came a little earlier than usual. I’ve just seen the nocturnal catheter pouch on the chair. I can’t cope with my decline very well. Tsk!
I’ll get the food in the microwave. I made it up in the tray earlier, so it should be ready in the oven in ten minutes. It consists of minced beef in gravy, sliced water chestnuts, pickled beetroots, red onions, tomatoes, garden peas, and a can of potatoes. It is also seasoned with vinegar, Worcester Sauce, and thick sliced bread for dunking. I hope it all goes well. I’ll let you know in the morning!
Good Moring! The meal looked and smelled amazing! I made too much. But ate ¾ of it. NICE! Into the c1966, £300 Oxfam charity shop-bought, wincingly grotty, beige-coloured, crumb-covered from my nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, positively unhealthy, and dangerous, no longer operational, virus-breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, catheter-tube-trapping recliner, to watch a nature documentary. I’m glad to say that I didn’t get to see it. This was due to my drifting off to sleep. There were far too many waking-ups, but I did get back off quickly each time. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Keep Smiling! Or, not like. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – That’s the lot concerning photos and graphics. Sorry. I was allowed to save just the first of the many pictures and graphics made and taken. I had some I could use again in the WP Gallery. All that time and effort was spent, too. I had some cracking Kodak Tim 2 snaps as well. The computer problems just have me beaten!
I gave up, deciding then not to, and tried again. I cleaned the computer yet again, all of it and put it back on again. Now, the only way to get a photo or graphic on is one at a time, and you have to rename the old image and save the new one using the same name. This cost me hours and hours, so long, I gave it up as well. If I tried to carry on getting photos on, it’d be such a long job, I’d still be doing it on Tuesday! At last, I can put some on, at least one.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – This morning, I may have wassailed,
But, in a tumble, my head was whacked,
I felt weirded and wrongheaded,
My bonce was bruised and wounded,
All a part of my life and my world,
Accifauxpas, to me, are well-founded,
To get back up, I struggled & wriggled,
The catheter leaked, so I widdled…
I laughed; at the same time, I writhed!
Falling back down on the walker…
My neck was sort of whiplashed,
I swore and cursed, but I only whispered,
The Carer arrived; he was wheritted…
Got me up, in pain & urine-wetted
I cleaned & medicated, just as I wanted,
But my confidence by now had wilted,
Anne Gyna joined in, I wearied,
I had a private stocktake, worded…
Me and my brain witwantoned…
For a solution, I waited, & waited,
Peace of mind is what I wanted…
I prayed, hoped & wittered,
Eventually, I just whimpered…
So depressed; Is this life warranted?
My prayers were so wholehearted,
I felt even more withdrawned,
The realisation of failure wrangled,
I can’t recall when I last womanised!
The last time I was pleasantly wooed,
The loins moved, and I was wowed,
Then my leg lesion wheeped…
The fate Lucifer on me has wreaked…
Satins Curse blew & wuthered!
Another seizure, the brain whirled! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m handwashing again. I laundered two Kaghoules and some socks, hung them in the wet room, and turned on the heater.
Bamboo socks
ABLUTIONS The teeth & gums bled. However, that shave was better, with only one tiny cut! Hoovered the hallway. I took some boxes with the sorted waste bags to the rubbish chute without bothering anyone. Medications went okay, well all apart from the fingal lesion, but I soon stopped the flow.
Carer Ahram arrived. The diabetic socks were put on, the medications were taken, and the daily catheter pouch was changed. It’s all good!
MY LONGEST-EVER SEIZURE! I think Ménière’s disease brought on this type of seizure. I stop doing things when I get this type, but I am reasonably aware of what’s happening. I just can’t get involved until things are clear. But I could be wrong. This has been known regularly daily. I should think maybe nine or ten times a day, at least, and possibly more. Alright, it’s a gusstimate! Haha!
Carer Joe came while I was out of it, but I knew he had been here. He also did the teatime call. Medications and little natter of which U could take part. I like it when that happens.
I investigated what was available for my evening or morning meal in the fridge and freezer. There was much to choose from. The fridage has never been fuller. This is due to my expert skills and ability to carry out, repeatedly; after . By way of doing food orders that I can’t even remember doing. Usually, I end up throwing food I can’t afford to away weekly. As I cleaned the microwave, I often started one job and went on to another, forgetting the original designs I had started with.
Then, I wander off to do something else. The annoying part is when I realise I’d left the hot water tap running, the window open, the fridge door open, even the oven left on – in any combination! I once did them all on the same day. The hot water tap twice! Sure enough, I wandered off and decided to open a can of water chestnuts, slice them up, and add them to three jars: one of pickled mushrooms, one of sweet and sour sauce, and one of black bean sauce. I mixed and shook the jars and put them back into the fridge. Then, I had to nip sharpishly to the . A affair. I cleaned things up.
Then, I returned to the computer to continue my Ode Creating task, which is one of my favourites!
CONTINUED... An hour or so later, I felt doubts come over me. Thinking I may have left the hot tap running, I checked the wet room and kitchen. All was good with the taps… but I’d left the fridge door open! . The fridge had spewed out water down the freezer below onto the floor. Cleaning it up, I could smell vinegar. Huh! One of the jars I’d just made up had a crack! Fancy that, I suppose I must have caused it; I recall struggling to get the mushroom and chestnut jar into the fridge. I moved it to the top shelf. I had to clean each shelf in the fridge, the inner of the door, the outer of the freezer door, and the floor! . I cannot believe today’s rate of mistakes, Whoopsies, Accifauxpa, cock-ups and sheer bad luck! I was well weary, depressed, self-condemned, and self-denigrated. Self-disparagement. Self-ridiculed. “I’m afflicted with a proclivity for self-criticism whereby every blemish is revealed in all its unredeemed ugliness.” Angry at myself too! It’s not easy mopping and hoovering with the stick, mop, bucket, and hoover, especially in my current state: back angina, Glaucoma Gladys fading, and fogging my eyesight. Which is typical for this time of day. Usually starts to fade around 17:00hrs
STILL CONTINUING... I got back to the computer. Again, the fear that I’d left something wrong in the kitchen made me investigate.
Nothing was left on or open.
However, I had still not cleaned the microwave. As I moved it to clean underneath, I found these tablets. Wonder how long they’ve been under there.
The tablets got me looking at some from the medical draw to identify them. They were clean-looking. I didn’t get around to cleaning the microwave! I must have lost similar tablets before cause this photo above was found on file, showing the worktop under the microwave. Angst and depression increased!
I am so tired and frustrated, and at this moment, I am full of pathetic self-pity and something awful!
I did not want to make anything to eat until the last Carer call. I’ll have to go at the WP reader & comments until he/she arrives.
Carer Ahmed came. Socks off, painkillers given.
I won’t attach the night catheter bag because I will cook a meal. I just hope it lets me use it in the morning. Cheers!
I got the photo to go on late Monday morning.
MONDAY MORNING: What a start that was! One for the annuls of medical history! Worth reading. You might not believe it…
But it was how it went for the first two hours.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Seizures increased – Falls decreased! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – ODE WRITTEN MIDST MULTI-SEIZURES
I’m awaiting my next seizure, unobjectively,
Hoping for a mini-one, prejudicially,
But to me, even more essentially…
Depression’s bothersome, fundamentally,
The crux of the matter, that drives me potty,
It can be instant or come on accretionally,
The reason & cure leave me in abstrusity,
I get the feeling of being blameworthy,
Self-hating, ashamed, definitely guilty!
>>>>><<<<<
I can last for minutes or a marathon,
My neurotransmission can worsen,
They’re in the hands of the neurosurgeon,
But who can help with my depression?
Or is that too hopeful or a silly question?
I’m developing self-opprobrium,
Life’s a struggle, a daily ordalian,
Depression hits, I change into a chameleon,
Into a terrible bellyacher, curmudgeon!
>>>>><<<<<
Depression Duncan brings inner-anger,
He’s a sulking, self-pity, inferiority inflictor,
A mind-impinger, thought blocker…
A Peace, rest, concentration inhibitor,
I can’t help but to feel I’m inferior,
Depression Duncan, so frustrating… Grrr!
Comes & goes at his leisure…
No reason or logic whatever,
I’ll not be free of him until I pass over!
>>>>><<<<<
Will Duncan still be with me (shiver)?
That’s the first thing that I’ll inquire,
When I’m interrogated by St Peter?
I hope not; I don’t know the answer,
It’s peace that I need to acquire,,
I’ll cope with Anne Gyna & PN Peter.
Not Depression Duncan’s hellfire!
Death for me has just one bother…
Will I go to Hell with Starmer?
>>>>><<<<< After five hours of waking up from broken sleep, I nodded back off for another full hour. I woke up with depression—Duncan in full flow. It took a few hours for him to give up getting at me. When I rang Sister Jane about the Nottingham Forest Cup Match being on BBC 1, I realised he had gone. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
After over an hour of Ccleaning, deleting photos and graphics, the computer allowed me to save what I’d done on CorelDRAW and pictures from earlier. I came across this snap of a meal—with grading already done. Fair enough. I’m not precisely sure what day it was from because when I deleted the photos to make space, I got in a tangle timewise with them. I think it was yesterday or thereabouts. It was almost certainly taken this year. I remember not cooking the lamburgers anywhere near enough, but thought I had, but no. I’m beginning to feel it was last night now, but…
The clock calendar was changed; better late than never. Then, the Porcelain Throne was needed.
Messy!
Again, but only for a couple of hours, after the Carer’s firsr visit, Duncan departed, and took over for an hour, or so, until once more and profound depths of misery and an uncontrollabe irascibility, self-petulance and testiness, were suffered. Deeper than yesterday’s, I think. But then, how would I know in my state? Care Joe removed the dressing from the right knee’s wound and then put a fresh one on for me. It’d been leaking thinned blood(lymph fluid, I assume). I’ll inform the district nurses on Monday. Why does this always start on a Saturday?
After the Carer’s second call, I took snaps of the view from the kitchenette window. Straight ahead To the right, catching the balcony To the left, with darker clouds
Not well, bleeding and seizure have really kicked off.
I’ll do a catch-up, hopefully tomorrow.
I’ll call for help now.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Today, I had a moment of pure glee! And I was proud of my being TT, Such a fantastic display of abstinency, Also, my new found articulacy, My fitness & mind control, no asininity! I now count every eaten calorie, Push-ups this morning? 223! The women are definitely after me, They asked me to go back to work, did I agree? I made up my mind and told them, certainly! I’ve never thought more clearheadedly, I reread Exodus in its entirety, I paid my overdue bill, for the electricity, I cleaned up my groin; it was pretty bloody, I sang and praised the Lord ecstatically, I expect you think I’m getting delusionary? One line of this ode is actual: I can tell thee… But which one? A clue? Cleansed! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Morning shot at approx. 05:30hrs Morning shot at approx. 05:55hrs.
Ocado Oder arrived. Daffies for the gals. Food for me. Drinkies for me. More food for me… Even more for me!
I don’t know much about what’s going on Today.
This morning’s shot.
The Carer took a shot of the head for me, tonight. It’s looking better, healing already. And a lot less painful.
Tomorrow will be a busy day. I hope I’m up for it. New Carers will be visiting to assess whether they can take me on.
Matron Jackie might be calling.
The Amazon parcel should be arriving before 22:00 hours.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE BEST WEEK FOR AGES! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The mysteries of the unknown
I usually ask Google Chrome,
I can’t ask anyone. I live alone,
You can contact me on the phone,
Would anyone adopt me and make a twosome?
I’m housetrained and a semi-gastronome,
All mod cons, I’ve got a gramophone,
Plenty of drugs, opioids & oxycodone,
Fentanyl, morphine, & hydromorphone,
I’m involuntarily impotent, I acknown,
I’m seeking a well-aged bellibone,
I’ll try not to be too burdensome,
Back to the mysteries of the unknown…
:::::
Why was I born into a family of homunculi?
Why have I never eaten a Georgian-style khinkali?
Starmer has not been assassinated yet. Why?
The voters are in a state of mamihlapinatapai!
Why does old age confuse and profundify?
We beat the plague, why not Streptococci?
Why call politicians politicians? Not succubi!
MPs are monsters, shapeshifters, liars & yokai,
Why has the Lord not returned to lithify?
Oligarchs, killers, warmongers to ignify?
We’ve disagreed, rules to verify…
Humankind plays with mobiles & wi-fi,
Existing with prices going high, high, high!
The mysteries of the unknown…
::::: Mysteries Unfurled!
Starmer’s inaction over inflation,
Cripples the proletariat of our Nation,
Result, vexation, indignation, & irritation…
Voters thought he’d be an agathodaemon,
His Labour values are lost; he’s an abomination!
His lies and backhanders create aversion,
Failed to convince us of his bourgeoisification,
The Labourites voted for an abecedarian,
His lying, directly and by omission…
Will rebound, bringing constitutional destruction,
Because there is no viable opposition…
Keirs is well aware of this situation,
And I’m ready for my cremation…
Then I’ll miss the upcoming revolution! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m sorry that I mentioned the seizures were fewer yesterday than lately. They came back with a vengeance! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – What a fantastic dream I had last night! I was in space, floating about, breathing and singing, and I was young again. For some reason, I was wearing my old football gear, including the rock-hard boots and shin pads! I knew that this could not be happening when the Tardis nosily came to rescue me. Inside was… wait for it… David Tennant’s version of the Doctor and Spike Milligan were inside! Both were sozzled and not making a lot of sense. But it was only a dream, and I seemed to know this then. Spike told me not to worry about the Darlek in the corner; the Doctor had unplugged it. That was it, all over, the dream had stopped! I think an electric shock up the leg was the reason for me shooting awake. Just one solitary twich from , & I removed the nocturnal pouch from the day bag. Then, I scribbled notes about the dream on the notepad near the hospital bed.
As I made my first move to get on my feet, I was delighted I was next to the bed cause I thought I had a seizure and a visit from , and fell back onto the bed at the same time. Probably not, though. One or the other. That put the mockers on my plans. No way I was going to go under the shower if there was a likelihood of another seizure. The wet room floor is a lot harder than the bed is. Haha! I decided I’d do the ablutions and medicalisations with a stand-up wash and shave my feet in a bowl of antiseptic disinfectant to soak while shaving. I put the kettle on for a brew of Co-op 99 tea and sorted the waste bags out. I took the tea in the wet room with me, as I felt several shooting up my right leg. I utilised the Porcelain Throne first. Trotsy Terence was right back in full charge again. Surprisingly, there was a bit of pain as the evacuation sploshed into the bowl in about ten seconds. The blood could be seen in the water and felt on my bottom and legs. Now I knew! Today was going to be one of those days. I didn’t need my EQ to tell me, but he did anyway. Cleaning myself and things up kicked off! Much worse than she was yesterday. I stopped cleaning up and went to get some under-the-tongue tablets from the medical drawer. I’d been told to stop taking them long ago, but I kept them; they are rarely needed. But just for such an occasion as today, I’d take one. Only one is left. It can’t be helped; I’m not supposed to take them anyway. Slipped it under my tongue, and threw the box away. And hobbled back to the wetroom. Finished cleaning up and got the bowl down to fill with hot water, washing-up liquid & dettol. The plastic bowl split and is now unusable. I will still not risk a shower, though. Farcical, but it had to be done; I used the small picker-upperer to get a flannel to my feet and ankles. Then, I used it to get the towelling done. was having a great time in my chest! Stbbing here, stabbing there, up, down, lower, higher… Humph! I hadn’t thought (which is a perfectly natural occurrence for me) to check the date on the GTTs! Ah, well, too late now. My extrasensory feeling, uneasiness of what the day will bring, was reinforced when the flipping started again just as was dying down. I don’t think it was a foreboding sensation, but it was more of an inkling that the day may bring forth calamities, Accifaupas, & Whoopsiedanglelops. Yet there were no signs of DDDD as there were earlier. The shaving went well; just two more cuts. I forgot about doing my teeth. I had all the usual treatments. But when I looked down at the leg ulcers, they looked like were building up to burst some papules of fluid soon. Both ankles seemed to be building up to it. Even the left one looked a smidgen dodgy. The right one was simply painful, while the left one wasn’t at all. I found six new growths, three on each lower leg. They don’t bode well, but knowing my legs, they may be sweet as a nut in the morning.
I’d let the tea go cold in the morning fracas, so I washed and washed the mug and then got on the computer. I’d been blogging for an hour or two, during which time the catheter bag had to be emptied three times. I’ve no idea why; I’ve not been drinking the required amount by a long shot. I’ll start on the soda water.
The Carer arrived, Selina, I think. No, I made a mess of that. Selena came earlier; the odes had gone chronologically wrong again. I do that, I’ve noticed. It was Carer Kimberly on the second visit. I’ve forgotten what I was going to write now. Erm… Oh, yes… Kimberley spotted that I’d left the hot water in the kitchen sink. So, there will be no hot water until this evening. (Look at the time—it’s nearly teatime now.) What happened? I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if the seizures hadn’t discretely visited!
Better press on; I’ve not finished yesterday’s blog yet. My feeling of foreboding seems to be correct.
. I had about an hour of horrendous pains from . Genuinely worried, I decided to call for assistance… As I got up, I gave way, and I crumpled, aiming to land on the c1966, £300 charity shop-bought 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. I hit my bottom cheek on the arm as I landed! The blood from flowed and hurt a fair bit.
When I’d Phorpain Gelled Chloe and cleaned and medicated the piles, I rose to get to the phone and realised that the pains had stopped altogether!
Well, now I’m not so worried about not having any under-tongue painkiller. All I have to do to stop the pain is for one of the Cartilages to give way on me, sending me over, and land on my bum on the end of the arm of the recliner, burst the haemorrhoids open, and the Anne Gyna pains will disappear? Wonderful! Hahaha!
A late morning shot from earlier. The sun is beaming over the hill from behind the flats. Hello, another summoning from the innards. Well, evacuation number two was almost a replica of evacuation number one. But there was no bleeding this time, I’m glad to report. It’s time to get on the WP reader and see what’s available. Usually, some great poems and fantastic pictures are on there. I hope there is one tonight; I’ll return soon.
There wasn’t much on today, but what they were was great.
Time to get a meal. This may be one of the reasons for such a terrible night’s sleep. Along with and .
I put my head down, and it took a long time before I could nod off—then I kept waking up.
If we are not aware, it may be too late for aftercare, I speak to those with compassion in their agenda, Not as a knowledgeable man or an auger… To those who self-profit is not their main allure, Whose desire is to help others as an alleviator… Even if they fail on the alcoholometer! : : : : : Look what pure greed did to Tony Blair, Incompetency led Rishi into the political backwater, Now in charge, we’ve got bean-counter Starmer, A liar, ever-seeking self-wealth and a backhander, To pensioners & farmers, well, he’s a murderer, He comes across as a blind bullshitter! : : : : : Last week, I wished a slow death on the bloodshedder, I admit, he’s made my blood boil over, has Starmer, In 1968. Starmer became a barrister, In 1969 a Labour bencher; Until 1990, as a legal officer, 1990 onwards, in a Doughty Street Chamber, Then became the Labour Party Führer! : : : : : Starmer, the decency and honesty boycotter, The liar, caviar-loving, promise backstabber, The everyday growing creepier and dishonester, Untouchable for his fibs, he grows crueller, This epitome of a cheat and self-contradicter, This fork-tongued, backhander connoisseur! : : : : : I’d be happier if he turned into a cadaver, Should he do it painfully, I’d chanticleer! If he dies by assassination, I’d be that person’s idoliser, I’d put his ashes in a low-class cuspidor! Credit the git; he was an excellent prosecution circumventor! Shame he caught greed and cacodemonomania! : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – GREAT RESULTS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I’ve been very busy today, so this is only starting at 17:00 hrs. I estimate it will be finished in the morning. A shorter-than-usual rush job is needed. I’ve been down to the foyer three times to admit people visiting. TTFNski.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Up at 0540hrs: The night bag is sorted. NHS class 6
Despite a bit of a rush in the afternoon, the seizures were far fewer than they had been for several days. The freezing sensation coming up the legs continues occasionally. There were no electric shocks today!
Carer Richard made the first call.
I brewed a mug of Glengettie and got on the computer. But it did not go very well at first. and were obviously set on hassling me. And they did. For hours, I got nothing much achieved, yet somehow found mistakes that needed repair on what bit I had done. I had to give up, which frustrated me, yet I knew a late night was coming, and it’s here now!
As messy as it could be!
I had to go down to let in the nurse, who was due between 09:00 and 10:00 hrs. Thankfully, she arrived early, so I didn’t have time to get cold in the foyer. She asked if I could do the Anoxaparin injections myself. I explained that it was no problem, and no one told me why you were coming. I could have told them I would do them anyway if they had. The world… and my world is going mad!
From 12:00 to 1400, I was back in the lobby. I only had to wait for half an hour, and the person who forgot about the food order arrived. Somehow, he had already taken two bags up to the flat. I went with him to back up and get the food away. Bags out in the flat lobby. Started emptying them. I ordered the wrong things, and no others wanted them. Grrr! The fridge still had room in it!
Carer Kara arrived. (I’m rushing this, I hope I’ve got the chronologicals in order) Carer Joanne joined us, carrying out the weekly catheter bag change for me. ♥ Kara did a Q&A session. Nice to see her again.
Getting late now. Tsk!
Getting dark already.
Made an order for next week. I’ll have to check that I’ve not already done one with another shop.
I’d put this photo in the wrong place and missed it. I took it this morning to catch the seagulls as they searched for cats, little dogs, small birds or squirrels for breakfast.
Carer Promise arrived early. I’m about to get something to eat and hopefully get some shut-eye. (He says, hopefully). I’ll catch up in the morning. With any luck!
07:30hrs Saturday. I’m Back! Hehe! I prepped and served the meal, which took a long time because I was making another mega-feast for myself! Anyal Royal potatoes, Dutch tomatoes, red onions, and the last of the fresh garden peas (always a sad time for me, Hehe!) Palin cooked beetroots, some Morrisons smoked ham, two cheesy cobs with no-butter butter and a slice of German smoked cheese in each one. The Morrison’s ham was tough, and their red onions were disappointing and tasteless. The vegetarian lemon dessert was mega-good and tasty. I got seated in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966-made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. The tray of food beneath my chin to catch any spillages or droppages. I turned on the TV to watch the football match whilst dining. I felt snug and contented as the game started. rang from the door chime, and Carer Promise arrived. He was not here for long; nothing to do other than ask if I needed any painkillers and the nocturnal catheter bag to be fitted to the day bag, which the lad sorted for me. All this did not stop my eating marathon. Hehehe! I finished it off and had one of the cream cakes. I gave the other to Promise in thanks for his help in not disturbing me. They were raspberry and cream turnovers. Although I had not tried them before, they were different and pleasant enough to the tongue.
The match continued as Promise left, but the question was whether I could stay awake long enough to watch it all? No was the answer! But I still need more sleep to catch up on all my sleepless nights with the Novovirus. Although it was a broken night, I managed another six hours in the land of Nod.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d sell my soul, but to which acquist? Old Father Time, or a reincarnationist? Treat myself, & come back as a rheumatologist? A scepticist, somnambulist, maybe a spiritualist, A perspicacious psychiatrist or psychoanalyst, What’s a phenomenologist? I’ve not got a gist! No, I’d like to come back as a sensationalist, Not as another feeble-minded moderatist, I’ve lived this life with ostentatiousness, Dithering, meandering, graciousless… Though this year, I’ve acquired some spiritedness… I’ve learned hatred, in recrementitiousness, I’ve Starmer to thank for this… For him to die in pain slowly, I wish… No guilty. I hate Keir, the non-socialist socialist, Think I’ll put my name on Old Father Time’s list, I hear St Peter likes a sesquipedalianist, And await the arrival of Keir the Schlockiest!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – MEMORIES – Mr Fooey. Long gone but not forgotten!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 07:10hrs: I stirred to the pain and my being awoken by . Doing his best to detach my head from my torso. Soon to be joined by in the ‘Let’s shock Inchy awake’ campaign, by . Humph! The brain engaged first gear, triggering the mixed memories of my situation this morning. The worries about all the jobs and tasks that the Intercom had caused me to fret over and what I needed to do about them. I’d made mock plans. The first was to get the blog finished and posted. Then, to get down to the lobby from 08:00hrs to 0900hrs to admit my beloved Nurse Hristina. Being as the intercom had gone wrong on me. It’s still not working at all now. Worra Day! I hauled my body from the comfort of the hospital bed, forcing every move. Then, I made a proper mess of photographing the nocturnal night pouch. A number 7 on the NHS graph.
I went to check the taps and cookers in the kitchenette. And the view from the windows was fantastic. After taking the top snap, I wondered if I could take a photo worthy enough to capture the two planets way up high in the sky. Of course, I couldn’t. Nothing like what my eyes were looking at. Tsk!
After getting the blog finished and posted in a short time, I looked at the intercom to see if it would show anything on screen. It didn’t!
Time to get some clothes on for going down to the ground floor foyer for nurse Hristina. A pleasant thought, that! ♥
Arrived as I finished getting dressed. He did a rush job giving the medications, and he got my diabetic socks on in no time for me. Then I quickly looked at the intercom but couldn’t see why it was not working. Helped me get the coat on, then assisted me in getting the walker and to take with me. Then, he kindly went down to the lobby with me. I sat in the lobby, and it was cold there. Doing the crosswords, but only for half an hour. And Nurse Christina arrived 🧡. She was unhappy with me going to the lobby but understood why I had to. We went up to the flat, where Christina had a look at the intercom. As she was taking my INR Warfarin blood samples, she said that she would ask Julie about the intercom for me if she was there. Bless her!
Then I changed the dates on the c1970, made a clock/calendar, and started this blog. Things might get complicated in a while; I only had an hour and a half to work on this blog before needing to go down again to the ground floor lobby to wait for the arrival of the returned JS food delivery. A Financial Carer is now due to fill in my pages-long HMG Social Q&A papers. These are bound to clash, especially if the Cardiac nurse arrives. What next? The threat of mental mayhem lingers!
09:45hrs now. I’d better get my coat on ready. A smidge of guilt tickled me when I saw the hospital bed, which I thought I had straightened earlier.
Took a quick snap of the kitchenette windows as I made the first brew of the day. I can’t wait too long for the financial visit. I must get down in time just in case the JS order arrives early, and I must stay down later if it arrives late. Thus, I may miss the financial help call I’m paying for. Life is a mess here!. Grumble, groan, moan!
Carer Kimberly arrived at just gone ten. We set about the NCC (Nottingham City Council) Q&A form filling. It took a long time, but we arrived in time for me to shoot down to the lobby again and await the J Sainsbury delivery. I met an old friend from long ago, and we had a natter. She has also had her intercom go down on her. She was doing her laundry, and we had a lovely chat. I had to nip up to the lonely flat to empty my catheter. She kindly kept an eye out for the JS delivery. I emptied the catheter and returned to the ground-floor lobby. The gal went up to her flat and then returned with a note she’d written for me and left it on the external intercom, stating that flat 72’s intercom was out of action; please ring the ‘wardens’ who can let you in. Very nice of her. 💘 Thank you, Angel. The JS van arrived, and we all went up in the lift. Little did I know that I would soon be cursing, swearing and spitting at and at the very thought of J. Sainsbury’s! The driver may have been a little embarrassed when he told me that two bottles had ‘burst open’ and many items were covered in shandy. But the packaged goods were sealed and should be all right. (Never has a man been wronger!) The empty box had the fresh foods in it for 2 minutes! The shandy had permeated through the outer and inner packaging. I had to throw away the chocolates, biscuits, wafers, onion rings, bread, and patties. Some of the others look likely to end up the same way. But, they did not charge me for the two broken bottles. But of course, this put me below the minimum charge, and I got a delivery charge added. My opinion of JS sank. I could not stop cursing and swearing at them. I opened each multipacket, only to find that the inner packets had been soaked for so long that the products had been soaked in the shandy. I’m still spitting occasionally. I got a phone call on the mobile and asked the driver to take it as I could not hear what the caller was saying. He said it was the NCC, saying they would call on Friday to look at the intercom. I thanked him muchly. The bin looked well-filled already! I suppose I can cope with the shandy-soaked potatoes? The shandy-soaked label on each baking potato took ages to get off. The cursing returned! I’m hoping the fresh garden peas will taste alright. The cream cakes and parmentier potatoes I suspect witll have a shandy flavour to them. The beetroot was the only container that seemed shandy-free! Even the tomatoes had some dark liquid inside their box. The pattis had been permeated, but I think the Eclairs may have resisted the flow of shandy. I suspect the sliced red onions may have as well. The outer jar of peas and Anchor butter was sticky and wet, and, of course, I’ve no shandy to drink now! A third round of anger and cursing ensued! Made worse by the incident not being my fault. Despite the delivery arriving, having to throw so much stuff away left the fridge still looking a little bare, to say the least.
Then I got a landline call (much easier to hear what they say on this line) from the Cardiac Team. The nurses will not be calling today; they will advise me of when after they have made rearrangements. I should hear from them via email by next Wednesday with the details. Well, that will save me another trip down to the foyer!
I must record the happenings on my notepad/Google Calendar. Since the maintenance crew did not give a time of day, I’ll put it on the calendar for the whole day. So, I did!
I got a late phone call from Sherrington Park Medical Surgery with the new Warfarin INR level dosages. Mon to Wed: 1.5, Thursday 2, the rest were also I.5.
Carer Promise called early at night.
This prompted me to take a look at the evening sky. I just caught the sunset again. And lovely it was, the first picture almost like a painting. Then I took a close-up of our Mother-Sun on the horison. I imagine this is how Mars would have been portrayed in the 1930’s and earlier?
I made a bread roll filled with about everything I had in stock. First time I’ve tried bamboo shoots. Can’t say I was impressed… I was also a smidge annoyed at forgetting the beetroot and pickled egg. Humph!
Carer Promise did the last call. Whipped off the diabetic socks; no medications were needed. He also returned the bag of laundry. I’ll sort that out in the morning.
Sleep came late, but it was a much better one.
And it lasted for over 6 hours! Yahoo!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski, Each!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
