– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – REMEMBERING Do You… Remember the comfort & luxury of home life as a nipper? The Kodak Brownie box camera? The black & white photo booths all over? Your first motorbike, I think this was a Jawa? Were you impressed by Blackpool Tower? Did you use the 1960’s new Surf Automatic soap powder? Remember the 1959 Ford Anglia, with rear window angular? Or even more appealing was Rita, who was far more cuddlier,
I desired her so (sob) but never got a date with her! Remember the 1955 number-one hit. ‘Let me go, lover’? Sang by sexpot Teresa Brewer? She wisely didn’t answer my letter! Recall the Ration Book, weekly; bacon and ham 4oz; 4oz of butter, loose tea 4oz; sugar 8oz; meat one shilling-worth; cheese 1oz; preserves 8oz a month! Then biscuits, breakfast cereals, cheese, eggs, lard, milk, canned and dried fruit joined the list. Babies, pregnant women and the sick were allocated additional food items such as milk, orange juice and cod liver oil. Domestic coal was rationed to 15 hundredweight yearly in London and 20 hundredweight for those in the north. Clothing was rationed using a point system. This allowed for approximately one new outfit per year but was reduced steadily until buying a coat used up almost a year’s supply of clothing points. Clothing became utilitarian: pleats and turn-ups disappeared from trousers, and garments were plain. Women painted gravy browning on bare legs to replace silk stockings and painted black lines at the back to simulate the seams! Food rationing worsened after the war due to the country’s badly damaged economy. Bread rationing began for the first time in late 1946; the bacon ration halved in October, and potatoes were rationed in November. The Standing Committee on Medical and Nutritional Problems was concerned about those who had to live on their rations and lacked access to canteen or restaurant meals. The Ministry of Health decided to help with assistance with shopping, cooking and providing meals on wheels. Rationing ceased in May 1954,
During & after the war, Spivs, black-marketeers Galore,
Nottingham prosecuted 2,400, elsewhere more! Do you remember the outside toilet, the pissoir? The coal house, the yard gate, and more? The wooden lid? Bum splinters that were sore? The discomfort of a freezing winter? No toilet paper, but cut-up newspaper? The cistern would freeze after December? Lighting a candle or lamp, you had to remember! No hot water tank; for the better-off, an Ascot geyser. Unaffordable for the Inchy geezer. The Saturday night bath; that was a bummer? Boiling water on the stove and on the coal fire? Getting mine last was a bit of a harrumpher… Cleaning out the other’s dirt, scurf & seborrhea! DC electric shocks, with a ‘let-go” threshold high? Compared to AC, is it likely to knock you over or fly? But more people getting AC shocks die. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I didn’t keep much of a diary today. I spent so long trying to find pictures for my Memory Ode, but I didn’t have a camera this morning, so I had to use something from the file or web.
I returned to this facsimile of life at 05:15hrs. Got the scrub-up and shaving done. Then ablutions & medicationings were completed. Trotsky Terence Porcelain’s visit was made without any premature evacuational movements. Phew!
I started the ode, and seven hours later, I finished it. (I’m not joking; my concentration was all over the place.) However, the ailment has been fair to me up to now. I’m not able to say that very often! Although the struggle with getting the right pictures from the web and files may have been part of the problem, it seems to have appeased some of my ailments?
During the Ode workings, Carer Chris visited me, and then Carer Joanne visited again. We had a little natter and a laugh about our current problems.
Between this activity, I put one large potato in the slow cooker. I walked into the wet room door, another should-charge job; was not one of the being-good-to-me ailments! Which, understandably, set off and , but both soon calmed down again. I can’t believe all this good luck I’m having! As for the past 4 or 5 days, is still on form. I forgot to ring the Doctor about asking for some under-tongue dissolving medication, but it’s too late in the day now, and of course, with the weekend coming, I can’t do anything about it. Not until Monday, when most likely the only thing I’ll do is forget to make the call again. Huh! Nowadays,life continues like this; Never-ending returning circles, tangents and variations of failures, errors, forgetfulness, mysterious episodes of utter confusion (unrecognised seizures possibly?), with rare but precious dabblets of contentment, verging on happiness. The feared visits of unreasonable sadness, self-anger, & self-disgust, almost a loathing sometimes. But not yet today. This may be why I just flooded out my feelings. Is it as if I’ve only just realised what is going on?
Yet help & solutions are elusive.
Even talking to myself (I do an awful lot of that), my queries, questions and even my own answers or decisions I know are evasive, not logical or practical. Conceivably inenarrable. Confidentless and doomed not to be done and to fail even if they are attempted. Taking all the things I’ve just written & read above, I now see with clarity one word that I’d missed. Bonkersness! What a load of talking nineteen to the dozen, prattling, gabbling twaddle! I’ve lost it! Hehehe! If anyone can understand it, please let me know.
I’m going to check on the potatoes now…
No, not ready yet. I hope the Carer doesn’t call while I’m eating. The spuds will get cold, and the potato skin will go hard and hurt my teggies. Hehe!
Well, the potato skins went hard and hurt my teggies. Not considering the pain from the gums and lips, it was enjoyable-ish. Sorry, there’s no photo cause it looked a lot better than it tasted. I settled with the TV on, and at my first bite of a pickled mushroom, Carer Chris arrived—not that it spoiled the meal in any way. I cooked the lad a chicken pattie in the microwave; it only took two minutes, and he scoffed it down with a drink of lemonade. Well, he was tired and hungry. Hehe! Help with the camera loan was much appreciated. The poorly-poo Kodak will be examined on his days off. Fingers Crossed!
Sleep came so quickly. But thanks to the occasional jerking from , I seemed to be shooting awake every few minutes – it probably wasn’t that often, but it felt like it was in the morning. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Hasta la vista!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PART TWO¾ – – The body & brain are even more concerning… This morning, my bladder was most debasing, Trotsky Terence spurted out a premature soiling… How demeaning, embarrassing & shaming! I got pain as I start the cleaning when bending, As the catheter tube was pulling… Inchies Fungal lesion started bleeding… Aged toileting can be degrading, & demeaning,
Demoralising, undignifying, most humiliating,
Why do I have to suffer all this enfeebling?
My body and minds corruption & discerping,
That I feel I am not deserving…
All ailments are now worsening,
With new ones regularly joining,
These can be a smidgeon daunting,
My regular pains are still disobliging,
The news ones are often surprising,
Cancer enforced my catheterisationing,
FND & PN were late arriving,
Dementia soon had me mentally derping, I was told my nerve-ends were dying, Unlike Starmer, she was not lying, I couldn’t believe it, so I didn’t start crying, Diabetic dementia my brain she is occupying, PN prompted leg shocks, they’re electrifying, Arthur Itis, Both cartilages worsening, Sometimes I think, should I sob or sing! In 2015, I was put on the list for operating… 2019, at the QMC to have my cataract lasering,
Glaucoma is to be done after my recovering,
2025, Of course, I’m still patiently waiting,
My hearing aids both broke; that was annoying,
My teeth are crumbling, painful, very peeving,
New spectacles, unlike Starmer, I was paying,
He stole my Winter Fuel cash; he needs replacing!
They put me on amoxicillin, and penicillin, My concentration is fading, flagging, weakening, My haemorrhoids need regular edulcorating,
I use Corticosteroids on my Fungal Lesion Bleeding,
Duodenal Ulcer Donald, pain-killer needing,
Do yer know what I find most unnerving?
Is Starmer, the vilifying, wiseling, & nithing. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:20hrs: I bounded out of the £300, second-hand, c1968, charity shop-bought, eyesorely-horrendously grungy coloured, Harold Haemorrhoid-testing, easily-falloutable from, unfit-for-use, not working, recliner, singing gaily full of joy and contentment, and laughingly detached the nocturnal bag from the catheter day bag. Well, I woke up and took the catheter night bag off. Having the camera until noon, I took a shot of the urine. Not a lot of people can say that. Hehehe! Then, I took morning shots of the moon in view, way too high in the dark sky. I’ll put them on later with all the sky shots I took. This is to let you see the changes that took place in each view. I got all the waste bag contents into one and placed it near the door. Then, the first summoning to the Throne of the day arrived. I knew it was an urgent call when the action voluntarily started from the rear end before I reached the wet room door! I got in, dropped the walking stick, scrambled to get the dressing gown off, and lifted the nightshirt safely out of the already proceeding evacuation product. I was not quick enough!
The following long-winded clean-up of me, the bowl, the mat, and the floor used a lot of disinfectant and air spray! I washed the dressing gown and nightshirt and put on fresh ones. Getting old is not for wimps, Haha!
I made a brew of Glengettie and adjusted my old-fashioned flip-card calendar clock.
Carer Richard arrived, and he looked so tired. Bless him. I told him of the prescriptions that had arrived last night, and he checked them out in the kitchen medical drawer. Richard issued me the medications, but I forgot to ask him to fit my socks. I think that may have been on purpose. He was struggling to get around. He was wearing both of his leg-jointed supports today. I tried to cheer him up with a funny tale or two.
I started for serious on the blog catch-up and soon had Wednesday’s blog nearly finished. But I got carried away with saving the photos early before the Canon was picked up to go home. And somehow, I thought I’d posted the blog off? I carried on with this one for hours until it dawned on me. Then, I completed Wednesday’s and posted it.
Here are the kitchen shots taken with approximate times. Then, you can glean the changing weather conditions.
First Two. I think it would have been around 0600hrs. But I’m not sure of that. There’s a growing number of things that I’m not sure or uncertain of nowadays.
About 08:00hrs.
About 09:00hrs.
Around 11:00hrs. I got back to blogging, got carried away making the Ode of the day (I was struggling like never before?) and forgot to take another shot when the weather changed. It was misty in the distance, but the cold sun was blaring.
The camera was collected, and I thanked him much and gave him some nibbles and a bottle of something of his choice for allowing me to use his… I said Canon earlier, but it may have been a Panasonic. Still, the best bit was that I didn’t drop it, and it didn’t commit suicide while with me. So many have!
After Vic left, I made an order with Iceland for next Tuesday. Mid-way through, what arrived, but Porcelain Throne Warning Number 2. Off to the wet room with some urgency, I trundled. It was a surprisingly close call this time. But no need for any shamefacedness. And the cleaning up was easy!
Carer Sam called, and I asked her if she wouldn’t mind asking the ILC (Independent Living Coordinator), Oberstgrüppenfuhreress Warden and Primo Ballerina, Warden Deana, and ILC (Independent Living Coordinator) Generaloberstess, Ice skating champion florist, and Warden Julie if the banking details were in hand; from when they sorted out my banking details for me yet. This is the third carer I’ve asked. If Sam sees them, she will let me know the result.
I was still only as far as I could go and in the process of creating today’s Ode of the Day for this blog!
I put some potatoes in the mini oven and completed the ode. I hope it was worth all the trouble and effort. Hopefully, some editor will like it and give me a column in their publication. I hope it’s not the Police Gazette. Hahaha!
Shame I can’t photograph the meal. I’ll check on the spuds, and if ready, I’ll make the cheesy potatoes. Back in a bit… Well, the spuds were all cooked in a short time. I halved them, put some no-butter-butter and black pepper on them, and added the garden peas.
Washed the meal things, and I settled into the £300 second-hand shop-bought, c1966, moth-eaten, bedraggled, scruffy, grotty, cringingly beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings. Bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not-working, I recliner to watch an episode of my favourite ‘Heartbeat’ on ITV3. The Carer arrived as it was starting. We left the socks on, as it was so cold. I can have a stand-up wash, shave and medicationing session in the morning. If I get up in time, before the Carer comes, hopefully, he/she can change the diabetic socks for me.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I may be depressed & flat bound,
Perhaps I ought to be in a compound,
Doreen Dementia gives me the runaround,
And how little do you get for a pound?
Starmer is seeking self-wealth,
Rather like a bloodhound,
Me? I’d like some good health,
There’s more I’d like to expound,
I feel like I’m disallowed & disavowed,
Forcefully repudiated, denied, disowned,
Life used to be a playground,
Now, it’s a survival-free battleground,
Oligarchs & criminals seem to abound,
Animals like Starmer got empowered…
I need 2 hours to get shaved & showered!
My hopes are flattered & floundered,
I get worn out after I’ve hoovered,
I’m mentally & physically encumbered,
Rotting teeth, angina, bald-headed… My common sense long ago defected,
Violence and wars cannot be reined,
What’s more, I can’t get my TV started?
Starmer should be helped, assisted…
He should be airfreighted…
Go to Rwanda and get bayonetted!
Not fatally, just a painfully bloodied…
Come back and be treated by the NHS! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
ANOTHER BUST DAY It’d be about 0550hrs when I blossomed cheerfully, gaily, bursting into song, leapt out of bed, did a few hundred press-ups in the freezing balcony, and waved at the seagulls. I’d turned back into the fun-loving, delicate, humorous, beguiling young man I am. Oh, alright then, I didn’t. 0550hrs: woke me up, and I passed a mammoth blast of wind from my rear-end and detached the from the day bag. I did a pretend imitation job of tidying the bed and took the BP readings. It was a Normal-High reading this morning. Yesterday, I had a ‘Hyper’ result. But that’s not so unusual. I often get one or two a week, and it usually bounces down again.
I grabbed , and went in the kitchen. What a fantastic hue the morning view offered me. I was, to me, more green than black of blue. The clouds seemed larger this time.
The intercom sounded as I was about to get the kettle on the boil. I realised then that I had an Asda order coming today. And so it was. I gingerly gathered the boxes and carriers I used to put the food into at delivery. I opened the door, and the driver seemed agreeable to putting the things in boxes and bags for me; bless him. As I took a carrier to put down the hallway… ailment number nine gave way. I tumbled to my right side, catching my nose against the corner of the wall. I don’t know how he did it, but the driver was through the door and prevented me from falling in a flash. A Hero! I’ve tried to get to the Asda site four times to offer my appreciation. All failed!
I got the food & cleaning things put away. Taking a couple of photos as I went along. The first one on the right shows fresh cream strawberry jam French Horns. Naughty, but so nice! The second snap shows potato cakes, cheesy potato balls, green tomato and onion pickled, and water chestnuts. I will try to home-pickle the chestnuts and some of the mushrooms tomorrow. I also got a can of lip balm for my cracked lip, saving the day again later. I like a Mystery, Hehehe! I stored the cleaners away and decided not to have a mug of tea but to get my ablutions done. I got the needed clothing and poddled off to the wet room. No Throne yet! I started with the fingernails, then got the shaving done. As far as I could tell, I was breaking a record here; a second morning of a cutless shave… I thought! As I started the body wash, I felt the blood running down my lips and mouth. I looked in the shaving mirror, and a thin, tiny trickle of the red stuff flowed from my nostrils! It seemed the leak point was slightly up inside my nose. Now, I could not even get the razor up there. It never poured but came persistently for one and a half hours. Getting dressed and doing the body parts medicationings was interrupted by me having to keep dabbing at the blood. I wondered if I had done it when taking the tumble on the corner of the wall. I’ll never know. Hahaha! Better to go into a and claim a victory in getting no shaving cuts for two days! I moved into Level Two. Hehe! Finished the medicating and got the PPs & clothing on, not without some bother and a little pain.
Finally, I got onto the computer. Only to find that my memory and concentration had gone to pot when I started writing on the day’s ode. This was a little disconcerting, to say the least. Carer Chloe arrived as the nose began bleeding again, not that it mattered at all; I wasn’t getting anywhere with it anyway. Humph & Granknangles!
Carer Chloe was concerned about my bleeding nose. She looked closely at it and asked if I had Vaseline to put on it. Then I remembered the Vaseline lip balm that had been delivered this morning. I got it from the drawer and put some on my nose and lips. The blood flow did decrease. Clever gal, Chloe! ♥ Chloe departed, saying she was coming back on a domestic call. I thanked her and bade her well.
I’m not doing well with my Ode here, so I went on CorelDraw to catch up on the photos. I was struggling. At one time, I thought the near tumble might have been caused by a reaction. Concentrating was so hard, and I guess the ode would not come out so well this time.
I’m assuming that came over me. Or, it’s possible I fell asleep… No, no, that’s impossible, come think of it. Because when I came back, a fair bit had been done on this blog. Enough for it to have taken me a couple of hours to get done. Teo hours had evaporated, and it took ages to do the amending and correcting the bloopers & mistakes made. I had a break and glass of lemonade, emptied the day pouch, and took two photos from the blooming cold balcony. The mudslide in the far car park was a lot smaller now. And one of the sky to the West and Wales. The clouds colouring rather impressed me. Chloe returned. Then I realised that the nose had stopped running altogether, thanks to Chloe. We decided what needed doing flatwork-wise, and she made a start. I think I kept talking to her, but what about is not available to Doreen Dementias’s memory now. Ah, I’ll check on the memory notepad. No, nothing was readable, and not much was on the pad. Tsk!
After Chloe had gone, they started again, but they were all really short, as far as I can tell. Offputting but copable within the safety of being indoors.
I tried out the microwave roast potato bag for the first time. I just put in one bag… no, one potato. Mind you, I also only put it in one bag. I think I nearly lost the plot, theme and my sanity there! Hurrmph!
I was working hard on this blog. I’m using this work too often, but I am struggling. I was going at it while the seizures were taking a break and suddenly noticed that the sunset was about to disappear, so I got the Kodak.
Beautiful! I was awestruck. What lovely nature… Did my best, and for once, they came decent.
Carer Chris arrived. Medications were given.
We had a chat, he had a drink & nibble. Haha!
An hour or so later. I decided to try out the oven potato bag for the microwave. Oh, dear, the writing on the bag made me nervous, well, reading it did. I’ve copied it here: WARNING
CONTENTS AND BAG MAY BE HOT – USE CAUTION
READ INSTRUCTION GUIDE CAREFULLY BEFORE USE.
IMPROPER USE MAY RESULT IN FIRE-MICROWAVE ONLY DO NOT use in conventional oven. DO NOT Microwave for more than 3 minutes at a time. DO NOT heat on high DO NOT do not use in microwave xithout food DO NOT do not expose to naked flame DO NOT leave microwave unattended during use DO NOT do not place Potato Express™ near a hot surface DO NOT do not cook oily or fried foods Use only normal-sized potatoes!
I was scared stiff to use it! Photo during cooking.
I PUT ONE LARGE POTATO IN.
What is a normal-sized potato?
Cooked it for 4 minutes – rock hard.
Gave it another 4-minutes. hard
Then, another minute.
Then, another minute.
And it still wasn’t ready. I gave up and had a bag of crisps!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – WHAT A VIEW! I stayed looking at this scene for a few minutes. I was so engrossed just viewing it, I didn’t realise I was getting rained on. You just have to see the funny side. Hahaha! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Going to phone the Doctor in the morning about these seizures. I told her the first time they appeared, and I was more or less told that many people with FND and PN have them. I felt guilty taking up her time.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – For me, a gal must ooze pulchritudinous, It matters not if she is or isn’t punctilious… Precarious, precautious, or even predaceous! As long as she’s not pompous or pretentious, She can show practicalness or be pecunious, Be prosperous, silly, or pugnacious, Be pretentious, previous, or procacious, For one to attract me, she must be plumptious, No need for her to be clever or perspicacious I’m not after bodily prettiness, As long as she likes a laugh and is pervious, I pray she’ll not be disloyal or perfidious, A septuagenarian, & a smidge mischievous! I could buy us a couple of paragliders, Sorry if that sounded a smidge perverse,
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a bad fall when I reached this stage, so I called it Part One and posted it off. An hour or so later, the nurse called, tending to the burst bag and bleeding from the tumble. Bless Her♥. I’ve made a brew of Glengettie and am starting again from here. I doubt if I’ll get this finished before midnight… well, I won’t. I wanted to stay awake to take the celebration fireworks at midnight, but I fear it may be too much. I’m praying that the seizures leave me alone. Depression creeping in again! – – – I’ll press on – Seizures and if the catheter allows it. – – – I’ve had a couple of bad days. Tsk!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 06:30hrs: I grumblingly rose from the second-hand, c1968, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, microorganism-microbe producing, gungy, moth-eaten, beige-coloured, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, c1968 recliner. Knowing that after yesterday’s farcicalness, I had a busy day ahead of me. The morning’s Carer, then the domestic Carer, the food delivery, the INR Warfarin Nurse Hristina, and the midday Carer, and I was so far behind with the blogging I didn’t think I’d get yesterday done, let alone start on today. (Just the usual bleak morning moan to myself, nowadays) Little did I know what I had in store, or I may not have bothered getting up! I wish I hadn’t got up now, but not then. I think I got that right?
I removed the nocturnal catheter pouch. This is one of them I had to buy cause of the mess up and lack of help with my ordering. Some do have a drainage clip that has no drainage tube. Took it to the WC and used scissors to cut and drain the pouch. Still, it was no bother and went okay. As I got to the kitchen to get the kettle on, the innards grumbled and rumbled; in response, I returned hastily to the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence was now back in full control! The evacuated product funked awful. It took me ages to clean up the splatters from my clothes and the china.
I got the ablutions, a stand-up shave, teggies, body scrub, oiled the earholes, and drops in the eyes. Germoloided Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Barrier Creamed the Acne & Eczema. Then Porpain Gelled Arthur Itis’s and Cartilage Carol & Chloe’s knees, the underbelly lesions & underarms. I couldn’t reach Phorpain Gel Back Pain Brenda; I was going to ask someone, a Carer, when they came next. But of course, I forgot all about it, even when she was playing me up! I’m forgetting more each day! Into the kitchen. I tried to get some decent shots of the views on offer through the window. But the photos didn’t come out very well. Not up to even my low standards. The last one I took of the houses on Cavendish Avenue was one of my biggest photograph failers ever. No idea what I did wrong, but Surely I must have done something wrong to get this terrible result on the right?
I returned to the wet room to ensure I hadn’t left the taps running. As I came out, the intercom chirped at me. I could not see who it was, so I thought it might be the deliveryman with the oh-so-expensive night catheters I’d had to order. But no! It turned out that it was Friday’s (as I thought) JS order. Fancy me getting things wrong like that! The driver kindly put the food in carriers and my boxes and then carried them to the kitchen for me. Kind of him. Spent a lot of cash this time! Mushrooms for pickling later on. Jamaica patties, a lamb and a beef one. Pork Pie, no-butter butter, Cornish Pasties, tomatoes, cream cake treats, and some horrendously pricey garden peas from Nigeria. I love these! Marmite Rice cakes, cheesy-topped rolls, a bag of sea salt & cider crisps and Marmite crisps. A bottle of mulled wine. Reduced to clear after Christmas. A large bottle, cans of Sainsbury’s cider, and a bottle of washing-up liquid.
I took this snap of myself inside the main junk room, looking through the balcony doors and blowing my nose. Then took the photo below as the day slowly dawned, and turned brighter. I sorted the waste bags to make room near the doorway; no carer had taken them. So, I took them to the chute and found an empty box there, just like Christopher had taken away from the flat yesterday. I put the three bags down the chute and broke the box up, which also went in. I hobbled back to the flat foyer, and as I did, it gave way to me, and I walked into the foyer door frame. I believe I said, “Well, fancy that!”
Carer Chloe arrived as I was about to put the food away after the photography session. She gave me medications, and I was lucky—yes! Although I didn’t realise it, and Chloe didn’t notice it, I’d dropped a tablet while taking them. Chloe said she was doing the Domestic visit and would be back later. I walked her to the door. When I got back in, and at long last on the computer, I espied a tablet I’d dropped on the carpet. And a good job, too; it was a beta-blocker! Not one to miss.
It was a mental battle trying to sort out what was what and what needed doing with having yesterday’s to do yet.
Chloe returned to do the domestic run. I started to place an order for next week from Asda, but again, it would not let me get on the site. Grrr!
I struggled to communicate with Chloe, yet I always seemed to be waffling and losing track. Then, my beloved Nurse Hristina arrived while Chloe was hoovering the hallway for me. What a triple blessing it was that she came! When I told her about the farce of running out of night catheters and buying them, she found the number to ring, then called them for me on her mobile, too! ♥ I’d mentioned to her earlier that the cotton wool-looking material came through the tube from the bladder and got stuck, causing the uncomfortable flow back sensation. Hristina told whoever she was talking to, and they told her that it would be a bladder infection and that they would send a nurse to see me when they got back from the New Year Break and ordered the catheters straight away, wanting to know why the Carers had not contacted her. Hristina then showed me how to open the night bag to drain it! Worth her weight in gold she is! The most patient and understanding nurse I’ve ever known. 💛 She helped me today more than anyone else has in weeks. Hristina left, leaving a respectful and appreciative Inchy.
Carer Sam did the middle call. We laughed about things I was going through, which helped me cope.
Carer Joanne 💛, on her way home, called to see me. She collected the not machine-washable laundry. I insisted she pick up a bottle of her choice as a New Year’s treat. (I did the same with each Carer today) She said that her elderly neighbour had gone to the hospital, so she was late in collecting the washing. I can tell you that a woman who takes, hand washes, and returns my nightwear and brings it back for me is yet another angel I’ve acquired. My sort of gal, too.
I managed about five minutes on the blog, and the landline chimed up. The call was from Sister Jane. Not heard from her for a while. All the best for the new year sort of thing. But had a good chat. Jane & Pete are going to the pantomime shortly. She was sorting the food, and Pete the booze. Hehehe! The natter brought up memories to share between us, all good or neutral ones, though. Nowt unnice!
I tried to get some more done on the blog. The landline chirruped again. It was from the Doctor’s surgery receptionist. She advised me of this morning’s blood test result (Gawd, that was quick). Apparently, the INR level plummeted from 3.2 to 2.6, which is not good. The medication doses were also increased. I wrote the details on Google Calendar.
Then, back to have another go at this blog. Life seems like an awful slog! I waited for my brain to defog, Then I had an in-the-bog! I emptied the pouch, cleaned and flushed the WC, and turned to leave. As I went through the door, I accidentally shoulder-charged the door frame. Apart from triggering Shaking-Shoulder-Shirley, I let slip a few vulgar words that I shall not repeat here.
I returned to the computer again and finished about 15 minutes of work. The door chime chimed out! En route to the door, this time, Cartilage Carole gave way. I opened the door, and to my delight, the postman was working late and delivering my eBay-bought nocturnal catheters! We had a chinwag, as we both have catheters, but he has the latest ones, which look so painless to wear; I was jealous when he told me the other week about it. He is being sent supplies that have built up, and he has too many! Another twitch of jealousy crept in; Hahaha! He kindly told me that if I was ever running so low again, I was to put a note on the door, ‘Barry, I’m short on night catheters’. He even checked on my catheter to ensure the tubing was the same size. What a kind, thoughtful gentleman he is! I gathered the items needed to make the pickled mushrooms. got the mushroom in the slow cooker, on a high heat,
Hope it works okay.
Going to take a photo of the evening sky, this time it was who went on me. Most unfortunately, I clunked down onto the left knee with a sickening thud, and once again, I gave a clouting . The Catheter Day pouch took a good hit but surprisingly did not split open. Even more amazingly, as I was about to get back into the main junk room and the recliner to get back up again, I grabbed the sink side and got up; painfully, but I got up! Within a minute of getting down in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, to recover from the fall and Phorpain gell certain areas, knees, back and where I could reach of the shoulder.
And the doorbell sounded its version of ‘Oh, Susana’. It was a Community Nurse. She’s come in response to Nurse Hristina’s telephone call to look at my wedding tackle area regarding the cause of the bladder infections. I went into a deep seizure while we were talking. I thought she had Phorpain gelled my back and for me. I’m unsure what else occurred, but I was deeply out of it. But she seemed happy enough when she left, as I was returning to near normality. Well, that may be pushing it! Ah, she did give me a painkiller, I think… waylay that, now I’m writing this, I’m not so sure… something in my warped mind tells me she did. But, in the malaise of my muddled mind.
I sat still and quiet for a while. Then got back on the computer… Carer Chris arrived. No socks were taken off, and I was going to stay up to try to take some fireworks photos. He was given medications. I treated him to his bottle and cream cakes early, as he said he was not doing the late call. But no one made the late call. Well, it is nearly New Year’s Day.
It is now 5 minutes to midnight. I will hobble into the kitchen, camera around my neck, and await the hour.
It is now 0015hrs and the New Year! Photographs have been taken of the fireworks. Now, to see if I can get them on the computer. When I opened the window, the gusty winds blew in the just-starting rain! I’ve had to disrobe myself of the now wet bobcap and dressing gown! Humph! Hope the camera is okay!
Here Are NYD Firework Photos Taken
Art Decko?
Electric Art?
A bit of both?
Well, what can I say?
. I was getting wetter!
Ah, well, I did my best!
Ah, better get the mushrooms into the pickle jar. I would have a pastie, peas and chips for my morning meal. But I’m too worn out to bother now.
What a busy day again. I thought I retired 15 years ago?
0330hrs: Drained beyond belief. But hunger took a grip. Cooking is not easy when one is mentally and physically drained. Sometimes, one burns one’s vegetable pate, as seen below. Hehe! But I ate it all!
I went to get the pots and dishes washed. My eyes were almost closing as I did this. Then, as I had the light on and looked out of the window, I thought a final photo was called for to try and get a reflection shot of the kitchen, still seeing the relentless rain and me. But of course, you can’t photo wind. Hehe! I dragged myself into the junk room and deposited my tired, weary body and brain in the £300 second-hand shop purchased in 1966, which was a welt-causing, uncomfortable, not working, itch-inspirational, and crumb-containing recliner.
As no late Carer had arrived, I attached the nocturnal catheter pouch to the day pouch. Then, I ate a pot of jelly, put the TV on to catch the news, and planned to move into the hospital bed. Unfortunately, this didn’t happen. I’d nodded off into bliss within seconds of the TV adverts starting. Woke up with a jump later, turned off the TV, cleaned up raspberry jelly from my bulbous mountainous belly, and rejoined Sweet Morpheus. Where I stayed until 06:15hrs. Not a long kip, but it was much needed. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Despite the continuing Whoopsiedangleplops, Mishaps and Accifauxas of the last four days, today had some lovely touching moments that were well appreciated. The amazing Nurse Hristinas helping above and beyond. The kind postman’s offer over the night catheter bags. The community nurse called to check on me. Again, I won’t mention the many failings, irritations, and annoyances I suffered. I’m sick of hearing myself moan! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Discussing death is not at all morbid, I do it sometimes with my mate Sid,
Sid: ‘Are your valuables well hidden’ I didn’t mind there was no altercation, Well, I can’t take it with me to heaven! Sid: I bet you are worth a few quid? Sid: Funeral paid for? I’m not being sordid… Sid: But this mornin’, you look very pallid! It’s so nice of him to care; he’s a kind person, Sid: You deserve to be placed in a pyramid!
Sid: Done your will? Considering an alteration? Sid: Did you invest in gold bullion? Sid: You must eat well before you’re befallen! I live on beer, chip butties & bacon,
Life is just an introgression, an intermission…
An incomprehension, until cometh the conclusion, Sid: You’re causing me some confusion! Maybe that’s cause life is an illusion? Full of greed, hatred, & Oligarchism, Like Starmer as PM; pure idiotism! My faith in humankind’s incomprehension… Has shrivelled, shrunk and withern! At the politicians’ uncaring & indecorum, Sid: Death’s not yet in my jurisdiction, Sid: But I’ll make this prediction… Sid: When you get to the gates of heaven… Sid: St. Peter will think you’re on some cannabinoid, Sid: You’ll talk his head off, spouting turgid flid, Sid: He’ll not send you to hell; that’s hot and foetid! Sid: He’ll send back to earth, and trepid old Sid! What’s the damned code to open your safebox lid! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – The day began with Inchie unaccountably in slightly less of a depression. He could see no reason, rhyme, or logic in this predicament of Near-Contentment that he found himself in. And, this Sod-‘Em-Allness remained with him until noon. All the regular problems remained unsolved; Anne Gyna was appreciably worse than yesterday. And Mini-Seizures from Sandra were coming at pretty regular intervals all day long. They were short ones until teatime, then she threw some longer ones at him. Which meant that he got very little done in the afternoon and evening. The blogging he did was so time-consuming. There were a few thoughts in the PM about photographing, but he struggled to get the basics right. But a determination of sorts was in his little brain, and he pressed on regardless. Unbelievably, he kept correcting things wrongly. Several times, he thought Grammarly was in the wrong, and he used it so much that he thought it might blow up. Hehehe! Knowing full well it was the blame of Seizure Sandra, Anne Gyna & Doreen Dementia. Cartilages Chloe and Carol gave him very little trouble. I wrote this earlier until Cartilage Chloe gave way, and a headfirst tumble was taken in the kitchen. He tried to take a photo of where he hit his chest, just under his left man-breast. The dolt took two or three shots hoping to get one that would be clear enough to use. It’s almost needless for me to say this, but he’s left the SD card on the computer. His being close to chirpiness this morning had become a feast for the ruler of emotions . He’s still moping about sulking and self-lambasting. Sickenly sad, innit? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A decent enough night’s sleep, by my standards. Broken as usual, but I think I grabbed about five hours out of it.
The nocturnal catheter pouch didn’t have much in it. Later on. Carer Sam gave this one a 6 on the NHS colour grading scale card. A bit deep?
I made some waste bags into one and placed it near the front door to take to the chute a little later on when the noise shouldn’t disturb the late-sleeping tenants. I think it was early enough for me to tackle the ablutions, as even if the prescriptions arrive today, they will not deliver this early. & It was too early to take a shower. So I had a strip body wash after getting naked & chilly. I put the wall heater on and started the mammoth job of cleaning my torso & privates. Then, onto the shaving. Two teeny-weeny cuts. I later discovered it was four. I found a new dark brown bruise-like patch of about 1 x 1½ inches under the man-breast had grown a bit. I cleaned my elephantine body and the tender areas that needed medicationing. I started with the lotions, ointments and creams. Only Little Inchies Fungal Lesion was painful enough to mention. In fact… Argh!
After doing the waste bag, I could see, very high in the sky, the moon, and maybe Venus as well. Nice!
I boiled some mushrooms for pickling. They were not very good ones. They were too big and well bruised. So this time, I quartered them. I got them in the slow cooker with water & malt vinegar and forgot all about them.
I began updating the blog, and although the blanks were brief, they kept piling up. After about four hours of effort without significant progress, I abandoned the blog.
I’m sorry, but this visit deserves a good true tale-telling! When I stood up from the chair. Masses of wind blasted out from my rear end! Sensibley for once, I hobbled hastily to the wet room. But wind like that and no escapages had me expecting that would be in charge this session. I was right, too!
Gawd knows how long I sat there trying to encourage the motion to begin; each push was getting more painful. I think this job was more hurtful than when I ointmentated . This was a first for me; agony is not a strong enough word! Each hardly moving, millimetre at a time, shuddering as I inched things along. It was harrowingly excruciating. I must have taken a dozen or more pushes before the torpedo emerged, let alone came out! I could feel the warm blood running down my legs as it moved oh so slowly, needing even more effort to get it moving again; as it hurt that much, I had to take a breather and then start again. There was no plop or splash when it did get free… that was because it was that long and fat; it must have been in the water long ago. It took me a while before I dared to inspect the aftermath! There was an unbelievable eureka moment! It was ginormous! From under the water to almost level with the plastic seat! Then the miracle… I twisted the handle; it took a while, but everything disappeared down to the sewer, with no breaking things up and just the on the turn! All that needed cleaning up was bleeding! Of course, the back passage was a little sore. Hehe! A half a tube of Germoloid Ointment eased things. I was not sorry that the visit was over and done with. I did wonder what might have happened if I’d had a seizure, leg dance, or electric leg shock while in the wet room performing? I clearly recall shuddering at the thought. Haha!
The seizures continued when I eventually got back to the blogging. However, it seems I made a bit of a , as I struggled with repeated mini bouts from . Not realising this for hours. I’d started on this blog, forgetting I’d not finished yesterday’s yet!
Carer Sam arrived. Bless her; she applied the Barrier cream to the sides of my torso so that I could not reach myself. She spotted the bruise-like growth as well. And she put my diabetic sock on my legs for me. ♥
I decided to have a mug of Co-op 99 tea. As I entered the kitchen, I noticed the mushrooms and water chestnuts were still bubbling away in the slow cooker! However, they had become even darker, shrivelled, and much smaller, so I started a salvage operation. Haha! I got them in a basin from the stockpot basin… Yes, I burnt a finger or two doing so! Ran cold water through the sieve that I’d put the mushroom and chestnuts in to make sure they would be cold enough to put in the used pickle jar and go into the fridge for three days to properly pickle them. I put the food into the jar and filled it with pickling vinegar and pickling spices. I added some basil & garden & peas to the jar. Popped it into the fridge and realised I’d got the previous two jars in there, with no date on them to check when they would be ready to eat. Then I noticed the fresh raw garden peas packet in the fridge door. I took them with my mug of tea to the computer and ate them all! And very nice they were too! Even with the mug of tea!
Carer Chris arrived. I can’t recall owt about it.
But I can remember making and eating the nosh! Naturally, the Marmite and Yeast were added. Yummy! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN, Everyone!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:10 hrs: I woke after a better night’s sleep. I had slept for six hours and only woke up a few times—much better. I lay there pondering and making plans for the day. I wanted to get to the Heron store today. Since the food order is expected very soon, I decided to get up and sort the catheter out, check that the new stove is working, and then do the waste bags—not the ablutions yet. After the food arrives, I can tend to the ablutions. Then, I can update Tuesday’s blog, put on the clothes, and catch a bus down to Sherwood. But, of course, this never happened. This is Inchy talking, after all!
I got the nocturnal catheter bag freed.
What a shade! Blimey! I titivated the bed and got the trousers out, ready to do battle with later on. (No chance of getting the trousers on or going to the shop, Humph!) Sorted the waste bags into one bag. I photographed the morning view; I don’t know where it went, but it was not on the SD card? I tried warming the new mini-oven. To see if it tripped the electrics. It didn’t, but it smoked and set the fire alarm off!
Worried now. I won’t use it!
Carer Shaquille arrived. The medications were sorted. I mentioned that I still had an unreturned laundry bag in the ground-floor laundry room. During Shaq’s call, Anne Gyna kicked off and got worse than yesterday. She’s still with me on and off, at 16:00 hrs.
The Ocado delivery arrived.
I ordered a selection of cream cakes as part of the Christmas treat for the nurses, Carers and staff to have. Two M&S Eton-Mess cream cakes. Two boxes of their Chocolate Eclairs and iced vanilla cream cakes. There’s another one, cheap iced buns. They were for me. I am a commoner!
Throughout the busy morning, I called the wardens to inform them about the cakes awaiting them in the fridge. I got through 6 hours later to let Warden Julie know. She will come to collect them later. I think they must have been to one of their famous management meetings.
When Carer Kimberly arrived for the financial meet, Arthur Itis had joined Anne Gyna in her attack. Today is not going well, so much for making plans.
I cleared the rubbish from the delivery, returned to the computer, and drifted in an elongated bout of . At the same time, Carer Kimberly was dealing with the bank details, then she contacted the chemist to make sure the prescriptions were coming, they were due tomorrow), and anything else that happened just got mixed in with the other things. I think I asked bout the unreturned bag of washing from the laundry… perhaps. Not in a good state now, especially compared to how things were earlier.
I was anywhere and everywhere, not getting much done. Carer Joanne called, and I was as surprised as she was to find I was in the middle of making some more pickled mushrooms!
I have no idea what I did for about two hours. Maybe nothing, certainly not on the computer, I thought. An hour later, I got a text message telling me the Morrison order was en route. What Morrison order! I checked the Amazon site, and sure enough, I had placed an order for delivery this afternoon! Now I am worried! Sure enough, the order was delivered to the door. Opening the bags to see what the ‘eck I’d ordered was a frustrating adventure. There was little, if anything, that I wanted or needed to purchase. And my bank balance is the lowest it’s ever been! Shaving foam; I’ve got two cans in the wetroom! Marmite Cheese, I’ve a whole bag in the fridge. A large jar of green tomato salad; I tried one two weeks ago and threw it away; it tasted horrible! MORE CREAM CAKES! I need help here. No memory whatsoever of ordering these! I must have been deep in a seizure like never before. Yet they were items I’d bought before. Thank heavens, Carer Kimberley sorted the prescriptions out. That is if they do arrive tomorrow, naturally.
Then things got even worse… I turned on the new oven to test it at a higher level and went to the 12th-floor community rubbish chute with the bags from the unwanted Morrison order. A chap was in the floor’s lift foyer, and we exchanged hello’s. When I returned from trapping my finger in the chute lid, he asked if he could come into the flat to do the checks they had written me about. The Carers open all my mail, except when they were obviously Christmas cards. I’ve likely forgotten about the appointment. We went to the flat. He was checking some electricals, and I went to look at the new oven. THE A second after I’d opened the new oven door, masses of clear, hot smoke poured out of it! I was crestfallen. Will anything ever go right for me? Stupid Question. I’ve lost the will to bother.
I thought this morning that I was full of plans. I even got Shaquiille on his visit to take a photo of me holding the new oven-packing foam, intending to think something witty up to try and raise a laugh and share it with you all. Another failed plan for today.
I haven’t yet performed my ablutions or used the Porcelain Throne, medicated any of the six areas of my rhinoceros-like body that I should do twice daily, had nothing to eat, and didn’t want anything to eat. As I type this, another seizure is detected, and Electric-Shocking-Sherida just gave me one. Anne Gyna keeps prodding me, Arthur Itis does when I move, stand or bend, and I really must stop moaning.
This is probably the lowest I’ve been all year. And Wardens Julie & Deana have not collected their fresh-cream cakes yet. They must have been busy and forgot to. I hate throwing away fresh food, but I’ll keep them until I know they are not coming… which I’ll never know. I’m glad Jenny and Frank came for theirs and got the Fresh Eton Cream Mess cakes. Hope they enjoy them.
I can’t make a meal cause I’m too nervous to use the new damned fire-alarm-triggering oven. I can’t get the medicationings and ablutions done cause the gals may come for their cream cake treats. And, I’m losing confidence and heart at the same time here” I must stop moaning; it won’t solve or make anything better.
I’ll have to finish the ablutions and medication late tonight or in the morning. As for sleep, I had six good hours last night.
Now, with all the hassle, Anne Gyna, Shocking Sherida and Arthur Itis, showering and medicating will be a battle for me.
Carer Israel came in on the 18:00 call at 16:30. It matters not to me, though. I gave him a Christmas drink, or I will do it when he does the 22:00 call to take home with him. He can have the Warden’s cream cakes if they don’t call for them. I can’t see them still here at this time. You can never tell. Talking to Israel gave me new confidence, and after he left, I had a go at making some oven chips to eat on Milk Roll bread. It’s not the most elaborate meal I’ve made. Oven chips and bread… prisoners get better food. I observed the oven for 25 minutes as the chips cooked. But there is no smoke or fire alarm this time! Great! I treated myself to some ketchup in a bowl and ate it while writing this. Enough to satiate my hunger.
Now I’m so tired. I’ll go on the WP Reader and comments and await the arrival of ‘Lucky’ Israel to collect his fresh cream cakes. The Wardens did not call. So, I gave the two expensive boxes of cream cakes to Carer Israel when he made his last call. He was tickled pink.
Best not to waste them.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – It may have only been a temporary & transient moment, but when I stirred at 05:20hrs, there was a worrying amount of satisfaction in the air! Verging almost on contentment!
As soon as I knocked the cut thumb against the catheter stopper when releasing it, and blood flowed – so did the depression. All my worries about the chemist, booking problems that need outside help to call the pharmacy, the audio centre, and booking a lift to get the hearing aids amended flowed as well. The reason for this near-waking jollity baffled me at first. Why? Why? Why should it have been there to greet me as I woke up? Why? I was soon back in grumpland & painland.
As the confusion eased. The worry, too, was when I realised the likely answer would be that I’d been dreaming. Not that I could recall any details. But an aura lingering in my grey cells indicated… well, passion! Hehehe!
As I heaved my cumbersome overweight bellied body off of the bed and sat in the itch-creating, bruise-giving, catheter-tube-tugging, crumb-decorated from my nocturnal nibbling, God-awfully uncomfortable, cringingly grotty, no longer working, dirty beige, anti-sleep designed, c1966, second-hand bought for £300 ten years ago from the charity shop, recliner, alarm bells rang (pain) from Little Inches Fungal Lesion and poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids. I could feel the fresh-cracked, previously dried blood trickling free from those areas. I hobbled to the wet room to investigate. Not liking what I discovered.
I cleaned up the rear end and groin and got the ablutions tended to before attempting any medications. The shave produced far too many cuts; I may have had a mini-seizure while shaving… but I’m not sure. Am I ever?
All I know for sure is that after finishing the razor work, I had a bloody lip, nose, and neck (four cuts at the back!), and I’d somehow got another cut under the thumbnail to add to the one where I stabbed the end of the bead knife under the nail yesterday! Still, the Brut aftershave soon stemmed the flowing red stuff. Oh, and it stung a bit! Hey-Ho!
The pain from getting Little Inchies Fungal Lesion done first only deserves one word… ARRGH!Ear holes are olive-oiled, and the eye drops and spraying were sorted. As for the Nurse told me to use the Barrier Cream on Harrold’s Haemorrhoids, well, not after last night’s agony, mate! I went back on the Germolois ointment, which was a blessed relief! Almost instant as I applied it. Costly, though! I used my small picker-upperer to apply the cream to the ulcer and Renaud-Ridden Toes. I also sprayed some Dettol on the ankle ulcers and Germolene on the cracked lips and nose. The tiny split in the thumbnail edge. Getting my dangling man breasts and back medicated was not so easy; I couldn’t reach where I needed to be. I’ve got a fair girth amidships! (Later on, Carer Chloe applied it for me, thank you, Chloe ♥)
Getting the Protection Pants on this morning took me much longer than my recorded time of 11 minutes. However, on the bright side of things, albeit a marathon session (Honestly!), there was no bleeding whatsoever… I’d like to say that again, please… There was no bleedingwhatsoever!.
I made a brew of Co-op 99 tea and got the 1970’s manual clock adjusted to today’s numbers. The care did it again and made the right side of the photo look ultra bright? I wish I knew what I was doing wrong! Well, I stabbed myself again! I went to put the mushrooms in the slow cooker to pickle them tonight. And… for the third time on the trot of using the sharp pointy knife, I stabbed myself in my hand. I must stop!
I returned to the kitchenette, as the 99 tea had gone cold, and I made a super strong mug with two tea bags in it. To a snap of it, then without changing anything on the Kodak, I took the shot above from the window of the greenish morning sky. Much later, when it came to putting the photos on CorelDraw, the mug of extra strong tea was not on the SD card, but, as you can see, the green sky came through okay to the card?
I checked on the Google calendar, realising I’d not put the appointment on it for the (I love this old title) (DVT) Deep Vein Thrombosis. (VTR) Venous thromboembolism includes (PE) pulmonary embolism (PE) and the Warfarin Monitoring Clinic. They’ve changed it now, and it has a humdrum title: Anticoagulation Clinic. Hehe! Also, please note I’ve got three food orders arriving in three days? Have I lost my grip on things again? (Well, it’s likely) Asda yesterday, Iceland today, and Ocado tomorrow. Hopefully, I can do without an order until or after Christmas now. Most of the items on these three, well, not on Ocado but the others, is treats and drinkies for the staff, Nurses & Carers for Christmas.
The Iceland order arrived. The driver took the bags to the kitchen for me; there were only four of them. Very few fresh products. Apart from the mushrooms that I hope to turn into pickled mushrooms today, and three days later, I will be ready for nibbling! So the fridge looked about the same as it did yesterday. Not that I needed anything anyway. But I must resist getting anything else in, or the bank manager will have my guts for garters. By gum, sorting the other bags out took me a while.
They both had Christmas nibbles and treats in them.
I have two shelves filled with drinkies to offer the Christmas workers this year. Hopefully, no nurses will need to call, but I must ring them and tell them to collect their bottles. The nibbles bowl was filled. I had to put some of them on the Carer’s desk. A decent choice to offer them this year. I love doing this, but it doesn’t stop them from telling me off occasionally… well, often. Haha!
arrived, as I was finishing sorting out the fodder and was just about to start prepping the mushrooms for cooking and then pickling them. We discussed if she could help me in the morning instead of doing domestic work and if she could try to call the audio clinic or chemist for me to help sort out my concerns. I think she said she may be able to try the clinic. Oh, I hope she can get through.
I started updating the blog. Since there is not much left to do on Mondays, I should send it out earlier today.
Carer Chloe returned as I’d just finished cooking and pickling and jarred up the mushrooms. I fear that the first attack of the day came from . Hence, I cannot recall much of what took place. I do remember her using the Hoover thingamibob. But little else, Tsk!
After Chloe had left, I turned my attention to the mushrooms that were now cooked and the task of pickling them. I hope I got the order of things right. I drained and cleaned the mushrooms from the slow cooker. Left them to cool down a little and washed the cooker basin. I stored the mushroom in the now empty pickling jar. They looked a lot darker than yesterday? Hope they turn out alright. I’ve got the remainder of the uneaten ones in a used jar and got them out of the fridge for later tonight (although it looks like it may be in the early hours of the morning; I’m so far behind with everything, grumpy, groan and gragknacles!
My lovely neighbour Jenny telephoned me. She had read the blog about my hearing aid problem and offered to give me some batteries if that was the problem.
She is so kind to me. ♥
Then I received an email from Lisa in the US of A! Another Gem in my life. She commiserated with my problems; she has more than enough of her own. ♥ Told me of for feeling guilty, Bless her Cotton Socks! ♥
Carer Sam called. She said she would find my laundry bag and return it to me if she could. I don’t think she found it. Carer Chris did the teatime call and did not bring it up, but he might have it on his last call. No, I have confidence in the lad, absolutely. Mind you, if it disappeared, it’d be the fourth time since I started having Carers take it to the launderette. Good Luck and I do not have an affinity!
Having quoted that, it was lovely today having two angels asking how things were. Jenny💛 & Lisa 🧡
It’s late now. I’ll get summat to eat, methinks.
Nice feast of sorts here! Home pickled mushrooms and water chestnuts, cheesy rolls well non-butter buttered, with dabs of Marmite. Potatoes, garden peas, pickled eggs (shop-bought), and a very tasty tub of delicious lemon curd yoghourt.
Carer Christopher made his last call.
And he immediately set to getting the new mini-oven out of the box and into action on top of the old, broken-down large cooker.
Took him no time at all. I couldn’t lift the box, let alone get it up onto the old cooker.
We turned on the electricity after plugging it into a socket. I admit to a slight nervousness about doing this. Remembering what happened with the old cooker… Would it blow the fuses again? Well, after showing me the controls, I turned on the oven. It was heating up immediately, and no blown fuses to put us in the dark! Great” Thanks, Chris!
Chris issued the medications and got the nocturnal catheter to bog out for me to put on. We forgot to take my diabetic socks off, but things were rushed a little while doing the cooker for me, so I’m not bothering about the Night bag at all. After Christ departed, I got a Kodak camera out and took this shot of the cooker, with it lit up inside and my reflection of taking the shot on the glass. The flask masked the two hobs on top of the machine. Humph!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – All the bestest, folks! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Self-Judgemental methinks? With life, I’m becoming unaffiliated, Mentally & physically more afflicted, I’m not angry, but I am aggravated, I can’t get problems solved or alleviated, My lifestyle is far too antiquated, My hopes & needs have been attenuated. My thoughts & actions remain authenticated, My failures are now expected, just accepted, My final dream is still awaited… To see Starmer assassinated.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0600hrs: Stirred back into a mock-pretence of life, detached the nocturnal cater pouch from the day pouch and fumbled as fast I could out of bed, and hobbed to the wet room to utilise the Porcelain Throne. Released one multicoloured cement-like torpedo. It took a while. Minimal bleeding, though.
Sorted a new recovery layout for the lost, leaked-via-the-catheter urine stains on the carpet. It’s gonna take a long time to entirely refresh it. Phew!
I limped off to the kitchenette to put the kettle on. Taking this snap from the offer view. The blue hue view that was on offer. Hehe!
My first Christmas Card arrived via the postman. Followed shortly after by an Amazon order. The card was from Jill & Eugene.
The box contained the microwave cooking plastics that I ordered. One which had a divided content divider in the middle so as to cook and not mix together whatever you did not want to mix in the first place…Lost the word plot there! As if it was something different, me making an error, mistake, Accifauxpa or Seizure was different.
This snap relates to how I felt at the time of taking it. Darl, Dank & Depressed. Previously, I don’t think I had a single seizure, not that I couldn’t have; I just couldn’t recall noticing any. This changed. I felt a series of long-winded ones and have little memory of the next few hours. I found notes I’d scribbled on the notepad, but unfortunately, most of them were unreadable; I could make out a few lines, though they didn’t make the clarification of their message any more transparent. I fear I might have placed another food order. I’ll check all the sites later when I feel more like myself.
The only thing I could read clearly was a few lines that read, “Warden Deana called to do an alarm check.” But I cannot recall this at all. That bit of writing was done so well, clearly, and readable. There’ll be a reason for that. If I find it, I’ll let you know.
I gave up and put myself even further behind with the blog. Then I made the daily meal: Milk Roll bread beef sarnies with no-butter butter, dabbed with Marmite, tomatoes, beetroot, pickled mushrooms, chestnuts, and Stilton Cheese. Very Nice!
A short-on-detail blog, I’m sorry to say, It was a very confusing sort of day,
Seizures made things go diversionary,
This may read delusory, in disarray,
Many items & events were missed, I daresay.
I’ll make a mug of tea, Glengettie! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFNski!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Bladder bother, being depressed, Doreen Dementia, can’t find a dentist… Toothache Tiffany, Glaucoma Gladys, So many things; I’m at my dorkiest, I wish they could be dispossessed! And health & sanity could be repossessed! These hopes prove I’m at my docilest… Daftest, dottiest, dowdiest, and doziest, This week, I’ve been badassed & bypassed, Most things I did were faulty or circumspect, Forgotten, digressed, at my gauchest… I’m demoralised, this I did expect, More emails, boxes to be ticked & checked, Worries, more debts, am I accurst? Life used to be zestier now, at its yuckiest, I accept old age & not being the luckiest… Carers, Nurses, Debt collectors visits…
Next week there cometh a psychiatrist,
But no politicians or aerobicists,
Nurse Hristina on Monday for blood extracts,
I hope my logicality & sanity soon reconnects,
My legs have shrunk at their scantiest!
He called them chicken legs, hilarious!
Often my seizure, I do not witness,
Till I see things I’ve done, what a mess!
Tim Price told me to consult a Wiccanist,
Am I a conceptualist or a hypotheticalist?
I used to be an ardent philosophist,
Can’t find my watch if it’s off my wrist,
I suppose I’m more of a paradoxist, Undoubtedly, I’ve become a schiziest,
Also, now I’m at my sloppiest, schleppiest,
Definitely, I’m at my schlumpiest,
Indeed, at my gloomiest & grumpiest,
Five callers on Monday, each one a nurse,
£30 for toenails cut by the chiropodist,
The Carer tells me I’m a somniloquist,
Caught me asleep talking to myself in verse,
And answering myself, could it get worse?
Of course, it will. Bad luck & I coexist! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Sorry, it’s a bit bare today. I didn’t get this started until Saturday morning!
I had two horrible days of Dizzy Dennis and Sandra’s Seizures and made more mistakes and errors than ever before. Photos are the only reference to whatever took place.
I know a nurse was called. I can see her image now, but I have no idea what happened. The calendar shows a hospital visit appointment for next Saturday. I wrote this above with a degree of certainty, only to find I made another mistake. The appointment was to remind me about a Nottingham City Homes event, not the City Hospital. Yet the image of the nurse’s face still lingers in my mind, although I am again certain now that one did not call at all.
I must blog on Friday and Saturday, including today (Saturday). I’m bewildered. This morning, the Caregiver (I think) was concerned about what must have been my nonstop gibberish. I pray that things will get better. I do indeed feel a little more with it now. Enough to try to sort out a blog of some sort. I shall press on, forwards.
.
Way-too dark.
Chicken-Legs: See all the room in these slippers.
It would be nice if the belly would shrink, too.
Morning shots
End car park at the flats.
Taken from the computer chair. Through the two balcony windows and doors.
I put the potatoes in the slow cooker. Rather, a lot of Oregano seasoning. Incidentally, I found them in the slow cooker 27 hours later, on Friday. I’d totally forgot about them! Humph!
I think many photos were taken, but the computer did not let me file/save many of them.
I’m glad the computer granted me permission to load this one. Almost artistic with all the unseen additions to it.
Beef in black bean sauce is a ready-made meal. Air-fried frozen potatoes, chestnuts, and sliced red onions were added. The finger cut was not too bad a one.
Ah, well, better late than never, I’ll get it posted.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I hoped I’d not have another day like Thursday, But would I? Absobloodylutely! What another nightmare on Friday! It’s now a rainy, wet Saturday, I’ve only just done this blog for Thursday! Things have been going adversarially, Seizures have ruled things Medically. Various ailments are affected mentally. Accifauxpas collaterally, but not colossally,
My coping and chin-up skills go pathetically.
Peace of mind – a much-wanted delicacy,
Maybe it’s time to stop my wordsmithery?
Each day, I seem to find a new vulnerability,
Live with constant Whoopsiedangleploppery,
I can’t get things to go right properly…
Talking to myself verbally & telepathically,
Concentration ruined by Toothache Tiffany,
I’m doing more things, sort of subconsciously, Thoughts and actions can seem Pseudohallucinatory
For giving up, I now have a greater propensity,
I need someone to rescue, help or adopt me…
So, there are more problems now, you see…
Embarrassment makes my continuing tricky,
Was I fated for failure, fait accompli?
I’ll fight off this depression rancorously!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Fare Thee All Well, May your day go Fine and Swell!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’d like to relate a little anecdotage, I’m losing my grip on life in my dotage! My financial situation can be called in arrearage,
The medics can’t mend my wee wee appendage!
I have no willpower, respect or appanage, So, I consulted a Sherwood archaeologist… He dismissed me as being human sullage, He checked on my lineage, Suggested I go live in a hermitage, Although a wizard, he was more like a hucksterage, My nerve rash started getting blotchier, He said: I know what’s up with yer…, Like many old farts, you’re angry at Starmer! Yer blood’s boiling at Keir and your bank manager, There’s no one at home to give you a blether, And look at the state of the bloody weather! I can see yer at the end of your tether… Yer cookers’ broke, standing in yer corridor… Can’t cook or pissed, you’ve lost your composure, Problems with your heating & the computer, Cancer, Renauds, toothache & painful catheter, Starmer, Rachel Reeves, the HMG chancellor, Yer feelin’ sorry for yersen, yer silly old dodderer! Doreen Dementia depresses yer, The solution is available for you, For £500, I’ll reveal what it is, too! Go home and think it over, and come back Tuesday at two. So I went back all punctual, expecting a natter and brew… They told me he’d died last night on the loo! More dreams like this, & I don’t know what I’ll do! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – -.
I was up at 04:00hrs to give myself plenty of time to shower, shave, and complete another visit to the Porcelain Throne in time for food delivery from Ocado. A Trotsky Terence controlled evacuation, and all over within 20 seconds of getting my tight little bottie settled on the plastic WC seat. Splush… all done! This ablution session took me over two hours, which was nothing unusual. I was all done abluting and started to get the medicationalisationings done. Unfortunately, after yesterday and the five nurses’ attempts to get the tube back in the bladder via poor little Inchie, He was very delicate this morning. So, ointmentating the fungal lesion was even more painful than ever. It brought tears to my eyes! But I got that done, and then I Phorpain gelled the cartilages of Chloe and Carole. Then, I did Arthur Itis’s left and right patellas with the same gel. Olive oiled the ears, put the Blepha gel in the left eye, and Chloramphenicol drops into the right eye. (Well, most of it ended up down my chest and on the floor!)
I got some Germolid ointment on my bottie to help soothe Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Always a pleasure doing that. Then, the Acne & Excema medications are under and on the arms, the flabby drooping belly, the head, and the neck. Yes, it’s spreading again! Next, congestion relief was sprayed onto the nasal area, and the Anti-Bleed swabbed when that cleared. The Nozohaem was kept handy, but it was not required. Then, a miracle occurred! I could not understand why it was so easy this morning, but I still felt smug when I put on the fresh Protection Pants, pulled them up, and adjusted them without catching the catheter netting or anything—in less time than it took me to take the old ones off! Brilliant! I still can’t believe it myself! Did I dream it or have a mini-seizure?
I cleaned up the wet room, took the waste bag and the used catheter bag to make up a larger one, and saw it was only 06:10 hrs! I’d done all that in just over two hours. But, being me, doubts lingered that I may have got the starting time or waking up time wrong. This took the edge off of my temporary period of almost glee and pride.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – COMPUTER NOT UP TO SCRATCH TODAY I took this snap just before going to the wet room. You can’t see the snow in this one, but it’s stubbornly time-melting.
Very sad about all the photos I took, I can tell you! Heartbreaking.
I’ve lost the compunction… is that the right word? I’ll look it up… No that’s the wrong word altogether. I’ve lost interest in even trying to get this blog done. It’s already gone 20:00hrs, and I’m only up to here with it. I keep trying to get the photos on, but it takes so long using the Ccleaner that my pride and heart are not in it. For the first time ever as well. Still, it’s been a busy day again, interruptions, mistakes and the damned mini-seizures. I had a lot of them today, two when one carer was here and another with a different carer. I’m fuddled.
There was a mammoth cock-up again with the food orders. I would have sworn that I made one order for today and another with a different shop for next Wednesday. First, the Ocado delivery arrived. Then, this evening, the Tesco order arrived! No photos can be saved again, yet it let me do these above, then died on me again.
The computer let me upload these tonight, and later it saved them. Huh!
I think technology, ill health, mental & physical are getting too much for me.
Half of what took place needn’t have bothered me. I know that I had a carer doing the financial checks today, but who it was and two mini-seizures during the visit have left me well-baffled.
I’ve just run my neighbour and Angel of Mercy Jenny. I ordered cream cakes next Wednesday, and I now have two boxes. Her hubby, my mate Frank, kindly came up to collect them, along with a few bits that I would never eat, and they were short-dated. So, at least they have not been wasted and got to where they were intended for. I’d be lost without Jenny & Frank.
Sorry, but I’ve had enough today.
I’ll see how things go in the morning.
Fingers crossed.
I’ll make something to eat. I might even photograph it… but will the computer allow me to file it, or even load them?
Feeling dejected, that was the word!
Hope to see you in the morning.
Well, it’s evening now on Thursday.
But I did get some photos saved.
The 2nd delivery
I am a fool!
Tomatoes, potatoes, chestnuts, and chestnuts, with two really-filled ham rolls, with no-butter butter, & a dab of Marmite.
The potatoes were not very good.
Evening all! The snow melting. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – TTFN & Have a great day!
