– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Where I was, I knew not, the place, it was aesthetically… pleasing, an Angel appeared, looking divinatory, But she didn’t look or speak, but seemed to ignore Inchie, I saw my surroundings dissipate, melting slowly… The cave was replaced by a garden, full of agrimony, A blue sky, with the sun shining brightly, People appeared, forming a shape, but gradually… They chatted and smiled with each other merrily, I realised that they were dancing, walking through me, Am I a ghost? Did I die? What a pity… My brain turned a blend of confusion and ambiguity, I let the dream continue, quite unconcernedly. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
04:00hrs; I woke in need of the . Another Trotsky Terence torrent evacuated. Cleaning up after it took an aeon. Removed and then emptied the nocturnal catheter pouch. Yellow binned it. Tided up the catheter bag boxes underneath the Carer’s table. Then the windy rumble from my innards directed me to the wet room and the Porcelain Throne. It proved to be a Constipation Conrad-controlled evacuation that wasn’t! The only thing that did escape was a variation of almost musical-sounding blasts of wind, from pianissimo (very soft) to fortissimo (thunderous), with a few extended bursts of adagio & largo. I wondered at the time if the lady living below might well have heard them. They ended with a series of weak little blubums as the session finished.
Ocado turned up with a delivery. The driver took the bags through to the kitchenette for me, thanks mate, kind of yer. Brown tomatoes. Tasty cheesy cobs, mashed potatoes with mature cheddar (Even though I can’t recall ordering it). Also, the pot of Mushroom Pate was the highlight, featuring a mini-pot of Portabella mushroom flavourings in the veg stews and mushroom ketchup for when I’m short on actual mushrooms to use.
I must tell you that an inkling and occasional burst came from who kept visiting me this morning. And very welcome he was.
They pestered me when I started working on the blog. Naturally, Horis faded as he took control of my emotions. After resolving the initial Windows issue, CorelDraw malfunctioned, preventing me from accessing specific options. The only way to fix this infuriating CorelDraw glitch was to save everything, turn off the program, wait ten minutes, and then reopen it. Today, I had to do this three times! After yesterday’s absence, I guess Horis was trying to make a comeback. Despite everything that went wrong, he would eventually fight his way back into my psyche. Great! Made an afternoon mug of the new Typhoo – ‘one cup’ Extra Strong tea. Well pleased I was too. In a big mug, you still need to use two. Naturally, my favourite tasty teas, these being Glengettie and Co-op 99, remain, but these Typhoo ones are now my third favourite.
I went on the balcony to take these three cloud shots through an open window. To the left. Straight ahead. To the right.
Then I lost the plot. I sorted the old spectacles to see which ones could still be used and relabeled those that I could find a container for. Laid them out in order of age, some estimated. One pair in this picture of them on the bed was from 1988. I had to dish a few, but had no problem with this. But I did make a . I forgot to put new labels onto the glass boxes. Humph!
I pressed on with the blogging.
The retired nurse 🤎 came to check me out. Said my bottom was not as good as on her visit last week, and reminded me not to miss the barrier creaming every morning and night. (The last few days have been so busy, I haven’t had time to wash and shave, let alone do the self-medicating! Tsk!) The right leg had two new leakages starting. The nurse applied two smaller, ready-filled plasters to tackle the problem. . After treating it, she said If it doesn’t dry up, I’ll have to call the Community nurses to inform them, and get help. This is important. Bless her!
Two late shots
. Got the spuds out of the slow cooker, dried them off, and cut them in half lengthwise. Put them in an oven tray, flesh side up, and dollop some shredded Red Leicestershire cheese on each one.
Got them in the oven to crisp them up.
Took another night snap.
I wrapped up the computer, not in wrapping paper, and saved everything before shutting it down.
A Copernicus Sausage was added to the cheesy half-potatoes, and two cheese-topped cobs were well Marmited, and eating began!
A lemon fool for afters!
Last two photos of the day. Thought I’d missed the sunsetting. But the cloud broke and the sun popped through.
TODAY – MARVELLOUS! Can I get this result again? FINGERS CROSSED.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
What invention can you recall that is now Zeerust?
The Sinclair C5 was, I think, the wackiest, I can’t recall seeing one of these at all, I did try it, I had a ball! Another one that I never knew! Oh, a two-seater, too!
One of the technological oddities of the 1980s is making a comeback of sorts. The nephew of Sir Clive Sinclair – the man responsible for the famous, but flawed Sinclair C5 – is marketing an updated version of the diminutive electric vehicle called the Iris eTrike. The new street-legal, one-person hybrid electric/pedal-powered tricycle is billed as faster and safer than its 1980s predecessor and sports a Plexiglas canopy, so it can be used in all weathers. Dogressing here: Incidentally, I loved the Sinclair ZX computer to bits! This new Iris eTrike, in its 250W EAPC (Electrically Assisted Pedal Cycle) version, is legally considered a bicycle in the UK and can be ridden by those 14 years old and above on roads and cycle paths wherever bicycles are permitted. It does not require registration, tax, insurance, or a driving license. The rider is not required to wear a helmet. I hope it doesn’t catch on like eScooters, apparently, since their introduction in 2019 to July 2025, there’s been 69 (including 25 children, & 18 pensioners) reported deaths involving escooters. Additionally, there were 628 casualties admitted to hospitals with serious injuries between 2020 and June 2024. A significant number of e-scooter injuries are not reported to the police.
Back to the Ode, I got research impulses then, sorry.
= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
As a nipper, I fancied being a flautist,
Not that I was musical, I was tuneless,
In the cadets, we were learning about flamethrowers,
The TSM’s daughter, Iris, came in; legs and breasts? Corkers!
I got the urge for passion and frivolities,
I spoke with her, no time for faintheartedness,
She was in the church band, I started flaunting…
After our first meeting, we started courting,
Thick thighs, passion-filled, but not daunting…
How long would it be before I was attempting…
To get close, have a grope and into her knickers?
That night I tried my goddamnedest…
I worked, I was transported to heavenliness,
We melded together; there was no hiatus…
Her attractiveness? Here weightiness & willingness,
No hypersensitiveness, it was just pure marmonious,
Our bondings may well have been erroneous,
But to we youngsters, found them frabjous,
Iris said, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =
THE MORNING BLISSES… THEN, THE PM AND EVENING COLLIESHANGIES! = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = No Blogging Achieved! No time, no successes, nothing went right this afternoon. It would have been a difficult task, with all the extra jobs that needed to be done, or as today, not done. With failures, and . A mentally & physically draining, frustrating, annoying, anger-making, late seizure-ridden, pain-polluting, ill-making, infuriating, maddening, barely-endurable, Duodenal Donald, Anne Gyna & Frustration Frank creating, sod of an excruciating infested, making my blood boil, day. Life is not working – I am not coping. I have never felt so angered, aggravated or exasperated. Anxious, uneasy, nervous, tensed-up, worried, and pissed-off with life. Solutions are unavailable, and ten-minute visits from different Carers eliminate them from solving anything. The problems remain, despite my begging Wardens, Carers & anyone daft enough to listen to me, for help. None of the situations and or issues that were deemed fit to torment me today were my fault. (Well, maybe the tumble – but that was well-timed, the only bit of good luck I had all day, I think. Carer Ejaz rescued me again. Got me up with a struggle) Usually, they crop up when there is no help available from a Carer or Warden.
The farce with the laundry is representative of what I mean. Carer Ejaz arrived for the one extended visit of the week. Getting me back on my feet from the tumble was his first job. Still, at this point, we did have a laugh between us. No injuries, just aching back and a bruise on my hand, neither of which was of any significance. (By night I was thinking the same thing about me, sad innit?) Ejaz took the laundry, got it in the washer and returned to make some phone calls for me. He used my mobile, which is going to cost me. Carer Nimra uses her phone, which charges me by the minute or part of a minute. The first call he made for me was to the Audio Centre. To make an appointment for me on Wednesday, so I can take a Carer with me. He found out that they are only open for 3 days a week now, not including Wednesdays! He received a recorded message stating that they are only open to patients on Mondays, Tuesdays & Thursdays. So, since he failed to make an appointment through no fault of his own, I’ll have to go on my own if we ever make one. I hope I get knocked down on the way, then Mr Pensioner-Hating Starmer can be thanked for his failed promises to ‘mend the NHS’, and he may be able to give himself another notch for another pensioner killed, who couldn’t hear the electric car that killed him. Come to think of it, waiting for the Glaucoma operation, I wouldn’t see it either. I digressed there.
Ejaz went down and moved the washing into the dryer. I returned and asked him to mop the kitchen and wet room for me. Which he did, in a fashion.
He sorted the medication drawer and went down to collect the laundry. He returned, saying it was still wet, too wet, and his time was up. Telling me to tell the 17:00hr Carer to collect it then.
No way, I’ve lost laundry twice before that I left in a machine. My fault, I’d forgotten on both occasions that it was still doyen there. Carer Ejaz shot off.
I stopped what miserable bit of blogging that I’d done and made a brew. 35 minutes later, I painfully hobbled down to the laundry room to investigate.
My clothes were in the dryer, tumbling away. I returned to the flat to find it had 25 minutes left to run. Drank my cold tea, used the Porcelain Throne.
I went back down the 13 floors in the lift to check on the dryer again. The dryer was still churning. I stopped it, opened the door, and the clothes were still wet through and cold! Grrr!
I couldn’t put it in the other dryer because someone else had already used it.
Back up to the flat. 40 minutes later, I frustratedly returned to move my clobber into the other machine. But, No! A different load of clothes was now in the dryer. So, I stayed down in the laundry room. To make sure this did not happen again. An hour later, the dryer was still running. Carer Nimra came into the lobby, admitted by some garden workers.
Luckily, I’d left the door open, and saw her walking by talking to the young men, and called out, else she would have gone my way and up to the flat, which would cause even more complications. I explained the situation, and she took out the dry clothes from the dryer and threw mine into it. And we poddled up to the flat. Medications issued. Telling me she had had a bad day too. Six minutes later, she was off.
I went down to keep an eye on the dryer, in case someone else took mine out. A chap came in, and I told him about the first dryer being kaputt. But he still put his things in it and tried to get it to work. He was keen for me to take mine out so he could use dryer two. I foolishly took out my clothes, finding they were not thoroughly dried by a long shot.
I was spitting blood by the time I waited for the dryer, then feeling a fool for taking it out early to appease the grunting chap. I was too tired and tense, and with no time to spare, I could only manage a bit on the blog post! I got even more agitated and swore a lot when I got into the flat and found the slippers still soaked, and all the clothes needed hanging to dry all over the place. The wet room, kitchenette, hallway, and the already filled slow-airer.
Full of angst, weary, and tired out, I managed to get some food sorted, a stew cooked in the microwave.
Sat down to watch some TV to unwind, and fell deeply asleep. Shooting away at 04:00hrs, with the TV still on, the remote balancing on my man breasts, and bile coming up through my throat.
So many other things happened today. Good stuff in the morning! But, I’m so far behind again. And cannot read the sparse notes I’ve put in the memory pad.
I’ll have to sort the SD card and any photos I might have taken in the morning, in hopes of jiggling my memory of them into action.
Urine 4.5 level
Waking up time, Humph!
I very nearly made the bed!
Taken from the computer chair
Terrible kitchen view shot
Car park in the drizzle
Two khagules to hand wash
Hung them to dry in the wet room
Much bleeding gums
Memory pad & mug of tea
The rain stopped
Whoops, started again!
Carer Ejaz arrived. If I’d known what
lay ahead, I wouldn’t have let him in.
The following six hours of misery, I’ve got out of the way earlier in the blog.
The red car is back on the chevrons.
I’m not sure how I managed to make this meal. I had a few mini-seizures while making it. I’d put a potato in the slow-cooker about nine hours earlier and forgot about it. A can of beef stew, garden peas, chick peas, Gung Po sauce, mushroom ketchup, pickled gherkins & beetroot were added, and finally, the potato was cut up. Then everything was mixed together. Microwaved it for six minutes. No mess in the kitchen in the morning!
Another mystery: How did I not burn any food or myself, cut myself, drop anything, or remember this bit of the cooking when other things are blank? The notepad writing looks like shorthand again.
Another messy, spirit-sapping, farcical day.
I’m not sorry it went away!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – How can one cope in old age?
With your infected brain, you cannot assuage,
Neurotransmitters prevent anchorage…
You may get a brain haemorrhage,
And mistake a hostage for a sausage?
Wine, tea, or water tastes like any beverage
The same as lettuce, garlic or cabbage,
You’ll get a regular bladder & bowel blockage, The next day, each will have a floodage!
Your IQ will suffer near-fatal damage,
Into the past, your mind will carucage, You’ll not understand it; this mental carnage,
Be a soft target for hustling or chantage,
When you die, you may leave just coinage,
Every day needs pain tolerance & courage,
Ask how you became this physical wreckage?
Know the nurses by name at your triage,
Reality & fantasy will soon start to merge,
You’ll wee-wee whenever you get the urge, Your leaking catheter may again surge?
Lose interest in sex & carnal knowledge,
You’ll never understand how to mailmerge,
Amazed at how you coped with life’s voyage!
Que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be…
That could be a phrase dedicated to Inchie…
Take good & bad, calmly and uncomplainingly?
Treat both extremes, impassively, unemotionally?
Avoid sulking, emotion; Don’t respond delinquently.
Bad as it is, worse will come eventually,
Cope with fate, as you grow elderly…
Laugh, smile, care not, adopt faux-longanimousity,
Mental blockages, bad luck, injuries 100, good luck 1.3,
So many medications are taken diurnally,
Things you did dynamically, now done dysfunctionally,
Decisions taken determinedly, but now dithery,
Lack of concentration makes you act lackadaisically,
Teatime each day, you tire, meet sleep unresistingly,
You’ll fall into sleep, dreamingly…
Your Carer or Nurse wakes you up successfully…
Shouting in your ear, “Yo’ alright? Can yer hear me”?
“Oh, fine, thanks!” you say stroppily!
Then she goes and beats you again at Monopoly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Got up at 02:45hrs. I got so carried away with doing the Odes, and with another prolonged seizure (Albeit the after-effects of the long ones seem to be less bothersome than the mini ones),I just ran out of time to get much else done. I don’t want to fall so far behind with my blog again. Although I no doubt will. The neurologist, dentists, and audiologist appointments may be finalised this or next week. I don’t know how long they will be for, but I have to give a week’s notice for ordering lifts.
Carer Nimra tried to ring the Dentist about my appointment time and date confirmation, but there was no answer. I believe I may have made an Arithmaphobia error and put it on the calendar for yesterday. But we could not get through to them on Monday or today. Carer Ejaz, who accompanied me on the last appointment, believes the next one was scheduled for January, but Muggin’s here has it listed on the wrong date. They usually send an email or text to remind me. The more urgent telephone calls needed are: one to the Audio Clinic to book an appointment, preferably on a Wednesday, and one to Easy Link community buses, to book a lift both ways. But we do need 7 days’ notice, so even if they have an earlier cancellation, I can’t take it.
Now the computer is playing up on me again. A quicky this time. No time for any more writing. I’ll try to get the photos on. What few there are.
Sugar! CorelDraw just crashed!
Balcony right end of the woods, and the rain is pouring down. Taken through the window.
Same area, down to the car park. Is that the chevron parker’s car?
Four hours later, Carer Ejaz took a snap of me on his mobile and emailed it to me. Thank you.
Gone dark again, still raining.
Still dark at 0800hrs.
The mist is coming down now. 17:00hrs.
The weariness of the long day arrived.
Furry Of The Week Spunk Mr Price’s Cat Clowder Leader. Mind you, they are all individuals, and gorgeous.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – NOT A GOOD END TO THIS WEEK! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – More computer problems, yet again,
With Seizures, mental and physical pain,
Frustration inflames my damaged brain,
Silly thoughts & depression I can’t restrain,
My thoughts; silly ones don’t appertain…
No desire, willpower, but maybe to deign,
Dementia atop, Haemorrhoids astern,
Rear-end evacuations like an aquafarm,
Each day I’m at risk of mental harm,
Sanity, I’ve had to quitclaim,
Mind control, I cannot relearn,
Social life, I just can’t reclaim,
My right leg’s skin is rhagadiform,
While humankind becomes more suzerain,
We have dishonest Starmer as our PM,
A bent liar, a schelm and skelm,
Leading the UK, sort of somatoform,
I cannot discern, understand or secern. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0315hrs: A great start, despite the high SYS. Night pouch taken off. Remarkable absence of Dizzy Dennis, Anne Gyna, Arthur Itis, Earache Erasmus, Depression Darius, & Back Pain Brenda. A few playing up, though, Cartilage Chloe, Toothache Tiffany, and Balance-Lost-Belinda. After the computer cock-up the Mood Ratio finished at the end of the long day, as shown here on the right.
Got the Health Check gear ready.
Took two snaps of the extra blue sky.
Clock changed.
Kitchen View.
TREBLE TROUBLE
Suspected Boll-Weevil on screen.
And on a kitchen towel. ARRGH!
Then things got worse… ARRGH!
A BLUE SCREEN OF DEATH.
A few minutes later, CorelDraw came back on.
Swiftly displaying a complicated list of processors in action. No idea what it meant.I waited for the processing to stop.
It took about an hour.
Then…No idea why.
Then…
I had to lefy… lefy? No, I’m hoping I can find a way to turn off the computer. The keyboard & mouse were not working.
I gave up and had to unplug the computer. I wasn’t feeling up to finding the bad news, so I left for two more hours. When Carer Mirza arrived, he told me to unplug again and leave it for at least an hour.
So, I did. Put the computer back on, and apart from everything going stuttery and in slow motion, it did let me open the CorelDraw package. But the mousse would not work, and then it stopped letting me type anything. Next, it froze altogether.
I left it alone and opened the internet again.
I went to WordPress to see if that was working. I started typing, and when I hit the period, the less-than sign showed… and filled my WordPress with them. I dare not try to show you, just in case. I shut it down in the proper way.
Turned it back on 65 minutes later.
As the windows opened, brief flashes of technical information appeared, followed by the opening screen. I daren’t not use it, and closed it in the usual fashion, and cried.
This may be the end.
I took a snap of the evening, showing what looked like a bit of the moon in the sky.
Then made a meal. I was halfway through eating this when I realised I’d not pictured it. So, I did.
The Pernicus sausages were okay. I added pickled beetroot chunks, yellow, red & brown tomatoes, pickled red onions & cabbage. The Copernicussausages (hostages if Starmer is reading) were 200g each.
= = = = = = = = = = = =
I couldn’t get to sleep for ages. Concerned that the computer may be in a narky mood in the morning and will not let me write this blog.
Huh, then I got flow-back pains from the catheter.
Took me yonks to get it right.
This delay made it even harder to fall asleep. Which I did, around 0230hrs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Good luck, how is it bestowed?
If you have any, how was it incurred?
I’m thinking of Keir Starmer, the turd,
How did he become PM, & put the UK at peril?
He’s clearly no honesty, not a single moral?
I see his face and get all antagonistical,
He should be trite and apologetical,
Any decency he had has been shanghaied,
I pray for the news that he has died,
I’ll hear it in heaven, where he will be denied! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Aha, another up-to-the-neck-in-it flipping day! I thought all Wednesdays were bound to be complicated and hectic, with so many tasks to get done and so little time to do them. But this Wednesday, 13th August, brought more confusion and difficulties my way than ever before. Visitors, phone callers, delivery problems, DVT nurse, Bloof Nurse, catheter delivery difficulties, an avalanche of late mini seizures, etc.
However, the medical interruptions were joyously welcomed all the same, and made me feel cared for, not abandoned. Carer Nasra coped well with it, but I wasn’t in complete control. Silly thing to say, I’ve not been in control of my life for years.
Nevertheless, I am in deeper schnook with and about what took place – there was a two-hour period when no sooner had one problem been part solved, another alteration in plan came with the next visitor. By 14:30 hours, my writing pad had two pages of notes, offering little help in deciphering my own scrawl. This blog was not started until Thursday morning, just no time – and just as gauling, no shower, or shave for yet another day! On the bright side, a Carer brought me an SD card from his device, and it worked in Kodak Tim 2! I’ve got a loan of it until the new Kodak SD card arrives. Which is due tomorrow. But I had to promise not to look at his pictures on the card Haha!)
So, despite there being a load of codswallop on today, you can be certain that I’ve still missed a lot of failings, frustrations, mistakes, cock-ups, errors… oh, I left the tap running yet again. So no shave or shower. AGAIN! Be grateful for small mercies. Hahaha!
A large order arrived from Ocado. See how many bags-worth. Humph! Cock-up number three of the day, I thought I’d ordered it for next Wednesday. I need help with this, specifically with the Arithmaphobia! I did ask Google’s AI thingy, and got: Yes, help is available for arithmophobia, even if it’s a late-life diagnosis. Arithmophobia, the fear of numbers, can be addressed through various therapeutic approaches. Exposure therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), and sometimes medication, along with lifestyle changes, are standard treatment options. I had to change three words cause it was written in US English. Soda water drinkies, Schweppes, Lemon fool, & Carnipus sausages. I liked these, chewy but tasty! I snapped some of the foods that tickled my fancy. (There’s not been a lot of that these last few years, Hehe, I can tell yers). These tomatoes are from the Isle of Wight. Costly, but so mealy and tasty! Voom variety. A few naughty favourites as well. With Twiglets (not good for the teeth), Frazzles and Smokey bacon. And, of course, my top-loved Maryland Vegan cookies. I have no idea why I bought these apples. Not a cat in hell’s chance of eating them with my few and broken teeth! The phone rang at this stage. It was the start of the catheter parts farce, which didn’t arrive. These plain NANNS are the ones I tried with my home-made stew the other week. Remember to sprinkle water on them in the oven, and they taste delightful dunked. Two small Fitzgerald’s sourdough batons. Ocado are dearer overall, but they have things that are not available. I tend to search for their special prices. My supply of Spring Water and Soda water was now well stocked up. I got a bottle of the Grapefruit and Grapefruit & Barley water to use as a top-up to give taste to the water drinks. I also got a bottle of fruit cordial or squash, whichever. Mandarin, lime & lemon.
Carer Nimra arrived for the extended visit and took the laundry down first. While she was downstairs, Matron Jackie came. Nimra returned, as Matron was checking my lower regions front and rear. I ask Carer Nimra to clean the oven for me, especially now, after my cock-up, Whoopsiedangleplop of leaving the oven on for the 23-hour duration of my hospital stay in Cardiac visit. She did a good job on it for me. We spoke of something and… Ah, I remember now what it was. I explained what to do if I go into a seizure while she’s here; the instructions I found on the NHS site were more about what not to do. Do not touch or move them unless there is danger nearby, or injuries that need the recovery position, and/or possible Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation (CPR) are present. I asked her not to talk loudly as well. In the past, people had shouted loudly after not getting any response to their asking if I was alright, and shaking me – this dragged me from the seizure, and put me in a panic mode for some reason. That was the worst-ever recovery time I’ve ever suffered. I’m not sure, but I think I had a seizure after Matron left, but how can I be sure? Maybe not? Why did I think that?… As far as I know, or think, I only had two seizures all day, one in the afternoon, one about 0130hrs this morning. Why did I even mention it? I do ramble on, and I don’t have the time to do that, but I do? It’ll be another gawd knows when before I can even start on today’s (Thursday) blog. Note to Self: Stop waffling!
A DVT Cardiac team member rang me to ask how I felt. They informed me that they will be taking my blood samples more frequently from now on and will contact me with the dates and times beforehand. Please ensure you are in when they call. Possibly with a Cardiac member who will take a brain scan, BP, temperature, etc..
I got a call from the ICC Lady, via the Carer’s phone. It seems someone has already put an order in for prescription drugs & catheter equipment. I was lost even further.
Carer Nimra went down to put the washing in the dryer. I had a text about the catheter equipment being delivered soon. Ninra returned, and I showed it to her. She made some calls to clarify and tell them I only had one night bag left. After a brave succession of dealing with different departments, I got a call from Matron. I’m struggling with my writing in the notebook. I’m a little confused about what I’ve included and what I’ve left out. I’d better stop here; it’d likely come out as hogwash.
Carer Nimra returned with the laundry – all damp, with the slippers wet. But, she’s not one to be beaten, our Nimra isn’t… out onto the balcony and put the slippers on the four-wheel-walker in the sunshine to dry! And hung up the damp dressing gown in the hallway, where at that time the sun was creeping in.
Nurse Hristina arrived at the time she said she would, bless her, she is a treasure. I must ask her if she can get a bottle of Krakus Borscht. I keep forgetting to ask the Angel.
A blessed person, whom I cannot name, loaned me an SD card & Camera Tim Kodak 2 is back in action! In fact, I took some of the food out of the fridge and cupboards to photograph; that you see above. Now, let’s hope the new card works with Amazon. I’ve also ordered some pickled vegetables for tomorrow. Looking forward to trying them, hope they are not too hot. Made in Pakistan. I’ll try to remember to let you know.
Well, I’m sure I missed something in my rush. But, as it is now Thursday at 17:30hrs, and obviously I’ve not started on that blog yet, not even finished this one. Cuts will have to be made to let me catch up some. But, me being me, it won’t happen.
I love a good write; it makes up for not getting any good gossip, I believe.
Ar Carer Ejaz made the last call. I really appreciated having been assisted with the loan of an SD card for the camera.
I said cherrio to the sunshine. Bye, bye… Cheerio… Hope to see you tomorrow!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Dad knocked one out for me, for talking sarcastically, Soups made from bones, tongue & hooves, are prone… Sugar was cheap, a few more teeth, gone, I got beaten up, lost more than one, Dad sent me to the gym to learn to box skillfully, Had a bout versus a muscle man, I was scrawny, Lost all but one, won that on a technicality, He had a heart attack, which was a bummer! Dad got me playing cricket, being as it was summer, Fast bowler, ball in gob, even bloody awfuller… I got blood all over my coiffure, A mugger, I said sod-off, he gave me a smack… Lost a tooth from the front, one from the back, Wonder how he did that, suppose it’s just a knack, Hospital, trolley fell off of it, Oy, caramba! Became an alcoholic, just beer, no gin or lager, Pissed, miss bus, walk home, fall, lose a tooth, regular, depression, sadness, melancholy, have a mope, False teeth? I don’t have any hope… Now Starmer is the UK’s new pope! A greedy, dishonest, lying bloke, I can’t afford to have my teeth out,
My bank balance is close to nothing, Keir stole my money, I’ve not got gout, Do I get no freebies? No, I do without, I’m getting older, more scatterbrained, dottier, But have toothache! It’s getting rottener, But, with far fewer teeth to come a cropper, 11 medications, including Warfarin & Beta-Blocker, I’d like to set myself up as Starmer Knocker? A derogator of dishonest Herr Starmer, I should really try to keep myself calmer, If Keir would kindly die painfully, & slower, Now that really would be good Karma! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 02:00hrs: I bounded out of bed, did a double-flip, and yodelled as I opened the window and greeted the world with a smile… That is not exactly authentic.
05:40hrs, I woke and fell asleep again, the moment I felt the pain from lurking in both knees. Wondering why, after all the harassment over the last two days, should the one ailment that has been absent all last week, suddenly start on the rampage? Within, I imagine two minutes of nodding back into dreamland, twitched; so violently, just the once. But it was enough to make me force my way out of bed, take off the nocturnal catheter pouch, and go in search of Codeine to ease the pain. This has never happened before; not the neck twitching, but the pain being so sharp. I’m assuming that it may have been caused by not getting medication for the days while in the hospital. What do you think? I left the card nearby with the bag, so the Carer can assess the colour for me.
Then I did the safety checks, although doing them last night when I got back from the hospital and finding I’d left the oven on was not encouraging.
I glanced out of the window and thought I saw the moon still showing in the photograph that Mirza took for me. Near the centre, about a third of the way down
I then thought I’d better get the ablutions and medications done before the Carer arrives.
The first task was to utilise the Porcelain Throne. But, for the third day on the trot, no evacuation was passed! A fair bit of noisy wind escaped, but not a sausage. Nothing, ziltch, nada or a blank. The shave was bloodless. Great!
I made a brew of Glengettie tea and got on the computer to update the Sat/Sunday blog. Which I achieved – but with Grammarly telling me that I had errors, wait for it… 333 errors! It took me an hour just to check them out & correct.
Carer Nimra arrived, walked straight in without using the door-chime, and found me with just the underpants on. Well, it was a warm day. Haha!
She’d been told nothing about me being hospitalised. I gave her an outline of the incidents that led to the fall and the following 21 hours of waterless, foodless time in the hospital. Late on Sunday, a new team started their shift, and I mentioned to one of the incoming nurses that there was no food or water available, as I was doing my every 15-minute mini ECG checks. She came back with a tuna and mayonnaise sandwich and a coffee for me. I thanked her for her efforts. But unfortunately, there were two rare things that I cannot eat. I didn’t mention it; not after she’d made the effort to help me. Carer Nimra barrier creamed my back flaps; I couldn’t reach them earlier. Then, she put some on the left Cartilage of Chloe, who was giving me some bother. We went onto the balcony, she wanted to take a photo, I think. Graded the urine bag as a level 5. Nice gal.
I then had a bit of a nerve-wrenching bother with CorelDraw and the computer, though.
I’d put an SD card in, which I found earlier, to see if CoralDraw would let me clear it, and try it in the camera to see if it would work. , No! When I tried to delete the photographs (they were from 2009), the whole shebang froze!
Almost instantly, semi-panic was birthed, and DAWNED!
I sank so low. How can I handle so many disasters in such a short space of time? I wanted to curse, spit and scream! As I tried to think of a way to close the other programs, I couldn’t. The computer or CorelDraw, or both, were not allowing me to do anything at all. As I was thinking, if I leave it for an hour, just maybe it will reactivate? Yes, that’s how stupid I am! Which brought on the pathetic self-pity as well…
The door chime rang out, and in walked the lovely retired nurse 💗 who had been tending to my Harold’s Haemorrhoids, Little Inchies’ fungal lesion. She inquired why the plaster was on my head, and even the depression could not stop me from telling the tale of Saturday & Sunday. She listened too. 🌹Bless her cotton socks 🌹. She then swapped the plaster with a new one. Checked out the piles and bum; they were much easier. Off she went with my appreciation shown, and of course, returned as I turned on the computer, and the same frozen CorelDraw showed up. So much for turning it off at the plug, the only thing I could think of. Then the doubts sprouted up again; Did I think of turning it of at the plug, or did I actually do that?
Doubting Thomas’s arrival, followed by the certainty that Calamity Jane was on the way, and back into mode.
I believe that while talking and listening with my sweet District Nurse, 🌹 I think that I flirted with for a few minutes, knowing that my precious nurse was with me. Have I fallen in love at my age, and in my current physical & mental state?
Her arrival actually froze out Darius for a while! Nothing has ever achieved that before! Death will, but then again, you never know, Darius may follow you into Heaven or Hell? I’m writing down my thoughts again. Waffling on? Lost the plot!Tsk!
I regained a modicum of concentration and mused over what to try next with the computer problem.
The intercom chimed out. It was Carer Nimra. As she was coming up, I had a bit of a seizure, only a short one, but they usually have after-effects that are worse than after a long one. Blown if I can recall what took place. I feel things went well, though. Think we parted happily.
Now, back to the computer problem. I made sure this time, and had to disconnect from the plug, taking out the plug for a minute, then replacing it in the socket. I had little faith, but I continued. I didn’t turn on the computer, but instead, I turned it off again at the socket, and then booted the tormenting computer—with a flinch and a prayer. It went through a scary list of options to boot it up. To be honest, (Sorry to scare Herr Starmer by using that word, honest), I thought it wasn’t going to work, and I pressed the option buttons without making a note of them – What a Fool! It booted up! But I can’t remember the sequence for next time when I start it!
I got so angry with myself!
I pressed on and opened CorelDraw, Humph! Some fonts didn’t load, so I had to select substitutes, which may cause problems in earlier postings. The file you require is unavailable. Select another or save and rename this one to a different folder and name. I was baffled now. So I pressed the save-as tab and renamed the file. Well, it loaded, but very slowly. I expected a lot of work to be missing, as I couldn’t save it when the computer froze. Turned off CorelDraw and reopened it after a few minutes. The newly named file opened, and I investigated what was missing. As it happens, only a few photos and graphics were not there! I think I must have saved it just before the freeze. If so, I’m happy I did! But the fear of booting up again lingered.
I got the Sat & Sun blog posted, and then I realised I hadn’t posted Fridays either. I was going to do that on Saturday, but then tumble interfered. So I checked that blog and posted it off too. I felt I was getting somewhere at last.
Carer Ejaz did the last call. No one had told him about the Hospital mayhem. He didn’t have time to listen anyway; it was a short visit, and he had another one to attend to. I’d not made a meal yet, so he left the night pouch on 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, dirtier than ever catheter-tube-trapping recliner, for me to put on later after cooking. Which is okay, the new day bags are shorter and much smaller, so the risk of going giddy at bending down is minimal. The lad asked me to send the blogs to his mobile, which I did. He just had time to take two photos for me. One of the fantastic sun-going-down view, so fiery and colourful, from the kitchen window. Then he snapped my much-improved Lymphorrea Leslie legs. Don’t they look so much better now my new love 🌹 has been looking after them?
Well, I’m shattered now. I’m going to save & close everything, shut down the computer, and see if I can remember the sequence to boot it up again. If not, suicide is the best option. I can’t stand losing the computer forever, with all the disasters of the past week. Here goes, fingers crossed and curses and a hex on liar, back-hander taker, two-faced, unreliable, pensioner-disabler-family robbing, more Tory than Labour inspired, ☢ Herr Starmer. ☢
I may not be back…
Of course, you won’t know if I’m dead or the computer won’t boot, will you? Because I won’t be able to post this desperate plea for help, formerly identified as a blog. Crossed fingers then. Heheheh!
What a Relief!
Got in, but with a degree of “It’ll only happen againness” – “How the hell did I do thatness” and
sank into the most prolonged Seizure of the day. I was just coming out of it when Carer Ejaz arrived to do the last call. So, my memory is a little vague again.
Ejaz, I think, took a photo of the meal. I guess it was Ejaz, anyway? Took the diabetic socks off. Left the catheter night pouch on the recliner, so I could remember to put it on after making the meal.
Got the meal of the day prepared. Dry bread, tomato sarnies.
Red onions and some
superb chips!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My grasp of the ungraspable, Seems no longer available, My mind is no longer terrestrial, Friday was mentally tumultable, Definitely it was seriocomical, A.M. was great, afternoon, sepulchral, Morning fine, the P.M. was Seizural, Early, I felt fine, then a schlemiel, Whoopsiedangleplops, feeling celestial, At first sybaritical, then self-critical, Why ever did High-Horis skedaddle? Spent most of the day sort of phantasmal, Seizures rampant, leaving me quixotical, Had thoughts that were ragmatical, Concentration was bad, indeed risible, Seems my good luck comes sesquicentennial, Help, obviously needed, but not available, Seizures, Dementia leave me in mental trouble, Glaucoma, Cartilages, Catheter, endurable…
Arthur Itis, Duodenal Donald always painfully,
Peripheral Neuropathy, I respond nervously,
My heart’s aorta, still working mechanically,
But it’s the seizures I find inexplicably…
Going into one, I feel it coming sensorily…
Not every time, one out of four, or three, maybe,
The shorter ones can come on instantly,
Coming out of them, aggravatingly…
It’s the part that most bothers Inchie,
I’m confused, have insufficient balance, and feel dizzy,
That’s when a Carer or nurse calls, usually,
For a while, I’m speaking incoherently…
Yet it sounds to me, as I’m talking clearly,
Sometimes things might clarify swiftly…
I feel embarrassed, mumbling inaudibly,
Troubles with problems mentally & physically,
I don’t claim I manage admirably,
Like yesterday, I felt self-pity,
I’d love to get help from someone in authority,
I’ve not seen anyone about the seizures or Neuropathy,
Premorbid Cognitive Impairment, you see…
I have just looked it up …
Cognitive impairment: a decline of mental ability,
Pre-onset of a mental illness, psychologically,
Yet still I can make up this silly ditty?
So why am I feeling self-pity?
Now I feel all guilty…
I await the next thing, cataclysm, I’ll probably drop my mug of tea!
Fall over and break my knee…
Or burst the catheter full of pee,
Break another tooth, pay for dentistry,
Do a Google search for camaraderie…
I hope I’m not writing sarcastically?
Am I going from comically to cynically?
No question about it, I’m going doolally! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was up and about (feeling deeply vague) when I realised that it was 03:55hrs. I recall what I was doing and what I was thinking at the time. Oh, yes, I was sitting on the Porcelain Throne, painfully forcing some movement from the evacuating monster torpedo! Through sheer willpower and determination, I’d freed myself of that 15-inch torpedo within 15 minutes !
During this period, to take my mind of off the pain, I mused over what lay ahead for me today. What disasters, failures, Whoosiedangleplops, Accifauxpas, cock-ups, bloomers & bloopers, oversights, foul-ups, oversight, glitches would be launched at me today?
They started after Carer Mirza had called. Well, here they are:
Approx. 09:00hrs, I emptied the catheter and started working on this blog. About half an hour later, I felt the urine soaking onto my leg, pouch bag, my sock and my slipper! Oh, dear, another urine leak! The carpet was soaked under the leg. I struggled to get the socks off, so I decided to wash them straight away and hang them to dry, along with the pouch.
I closed the pouch, put the slippers in the laundry bag, and hobbled carefully, with just the kargoul on and the socks, which were diabetic ones that had to be hand-washed and hung to dry. So, I hung them up on a coat hanger above the sink. (The nurse who came later was kind enough to take this photo and email it to me. I found it on my return from the hospital on Sunday morning.) This is when I stood back from reaching up to the bar and took the tumble.
The catheter pouch had still been leaking, even in the closed position. I went down on one knee, banging my head on the metal serving trolley. There was a lot of pee! I went on all fours to the recliner and somehow managed to get myself up. Then I returned to the kitchenette to clean up the mess. Initially, use kitchen towels. But the pouch was still leaking. On closer inspection, I saw that the plastic covering the exit tubing had come away from the tube. I stopped cleaning up and depressed my alarm wristlet alert button. I think I’ve got the following in the correct order; I told the NCC Controller of the tumble and the faulty day catheter bag.
Asked him if he could advise the Community Nurses and ICC (Carers) for advice, as the scuff mark on my head was getting more painful as I spoke, turning into an increasingly throbbing pain.
He said he would and will get back to me.
I restarted the kitchen clean-up, and the chap rang back on the alarm box.
A nurse would be coming, and he would leave the line open in case I had a turn for the worse. Kind of him!
He spoke again in a few minutes; He’d talked with the District Nurses Matron, Jackie, and said she’d rang for an ambulance. A nurse should arrive first to assess the problem, but I must go with the ambulance after the nurse has left. This may be a little mistaken, as I did take a turn for the worse; the throbbing was getting near my pain level.
The controller kept asking if I was alright and checking on me.
I sat down quietly. The throbbing did die down shortly after.
The nurse arrived and put on a new catheter bag. It was a different type, with the better, more reliable stiffet release valves. So that was one confidence booster I was pleased with.
The ambulancemen arrived. I got into a semi-panic thinking of what I would need to take with me. I should have done this beforehand, but naturally, being me, I didn’t.
The men spoke, telling me they would bring up their wheelchair and take me to the hospital in it. Nice chaps. They did a Q&A session, then got the equipment out. Pulse, temperature, BP, Lung checks, breathing checks, and a heart check thingamagig. I think it’s called an electrocardiogram (ECG) machine.
I got on another Kagoule to go in. (A mistake, I know that now!) The lads gave each other looks as they read the first heartprintout. Then did another, and spoke about that one, and did a third one.
At this stage, they said, “It’s best if we get you there swiftly”. I mentioned that I had to do safety checks in the wet room and kitchen, and I thought I had done them while the wheelchair was being brought up.
I felt sure I’d checked the stove, taps and fridge in the kitchen, and faucets in the wet room. I was sure I had. Then the lads got me seated in their wheelchair, with a seat belt fitted. I’d made sure I’d got the mobile phone, crossword book & pen, bus pass, the prison…no, no, I mean flat keys, and some cash.
Despite the injury, I was so glad to be getting out of the flat, even if it was only to the hospital. Hahaha!
The trip to the QMC was, for some odd reason, vaguely remembered. Other than the bumpy ride.
ARRIVAL AT THE QMC (Old photo reused).
The ambulancemen wheeled me out of the ambulance and into and through the A&E wing.
Well, what a sight. Corridors with patients and relatives were so crowded that they barely had enough room to navigate the wheelchair through them, with many short waits for someone to move a trollied patient out of the way to let us through. Gawd Blimey… they were so busy. We got into a lift and found the same thing on the ‘D’ floor. Trolleys of patients all over the place. I had no idea where I was, not that I was bothered at the time; wherever it was, I was not in my cell! I mean flat.
I was then transferred into a cubicle and was then moved onto a trolley. In which I resided, unmedicated (pain-killer or prescription), no drink, no food, for the next 20¾ hours of misery. But, I had sneaked some crisps into a bag and took them, flipping good job I had taken them with me, with my precious crossword book. (Cunning, or what?)
Twenty minutes later, I was collected and taken to the QMC Emergency Department surgical unit, in the Outpatients Department, in the blue zone, N4 area, and given a whole brain CT scan. I think they found one. Haha! These photos were taken from the web. Then back to the Emergency CT ward. I was locked up, never to move again, until I was freed. And some 20 hours of misery awaited me. This photo of the ward must have been taken when it was new. So different today. Packed solid with patients, and fed-up staff.
The trolley I was on was so painful to lie on. The first Carer to visit me, for BP checks, I asked if the head of the trolley could be moved higher and forward, please. Explaining my inability to lie flat causes me dizziness and back pain. Eventually, she answered me, saying, Yes, it can be moved… and disappeared, saying she’d be back, a little like Arni spoke those lines in the film. Hehe! I never saw her again.
The cubicle was so cold. One nurse brought me a small throw, bless her cotton socks.
Then, a lady arrived for blood extraction. He left a plastered contraption on my arm, saying someone will take my blood for testing every fifteen minutes from now on. Don’t knock this tube off! Oh, I didn’t.
Then a mini CT test. Leads stuck on my chest, back, and arms. Saying someone will be doing this every 20 minutes. By the time four CTs were done, my kaghoule was split so much, and right up beyond my bum, others were laughing. Air enough, so was I.
I looked like… well, I don’t know. Each time they got me out of bed to access the points for putting the clips on, a bit more of a tear or two would grow.
When they finally told me I could go home, many hours later on Sunday, and gave me a list of things not to do, and to do. As I stood up, I could hear the laughter harder than ever. What have they been doing to you – did they rape you?” And “God, you look like you’ve been beaten up!” As I got in the wheelchair, I was displaying my bottom, hips, and Little Inchie and his accoutrements. The comments I got varied from pointing at my lower regions, accompanied by “Hahaha!” To, “Ah, how dinky! r cute, or quaint!” I could hear them because I took my newly battery-powered hearing aids with me!
Still, it gave them and the ambulancemen a laugh, and I was happy to do that for the overworked angels.
Gone out of sync there, Tsk!
I was cold and uncomfortable in that trolley in that cubicle. Late on, about three hours before getting my freedom, and an actual Doctor called on me, early hours of Sunday morning. She put a small, thick blanket over me, and at long last, moved the top of the trolley up and forward for me. t was heaven compared to what it was before. Thank you, Doctor, whoever you were. 🤎 X
On the last mini CT scan, a different shift lady, who I assume had just started her shift, came out with a quote to beat them all! I laughed so much, it hurt!
“You know you’re a nurse when your finger has gone in places you never thought possible.”
As she checked out Hammorhoid Harold’s bleed! A highlight of my stay in the hospital!
The above helped me through to when the Doctor returned with all the diagnoses, to tell me, with a cunning smile on her face, that I could go home.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – THE AMBULANCE HOME
I wanted to get home for once, after leaving hungry, drinkless, my Khagoul torn to shreds and no sleep.
But, despite the joking, my esteem for nurses
remains as high as ever, probably higher.
As I was pushed through the maze of corridors on my escape route, my heart went out to the staff at the QMC. Every corridor still had patients on trolleys queuing in them. Far less than yesterday, thankfully. The staff on their way home had a twinkle in their eyes; those arriving didn’t!
The same ambulance men were in a better mood than yesterday, although they were pleasant enough chaps, just cheerier today. he ride home was even bumpier than the one going to the hospital.
BY good fortune, we drove along the road where I have to go in November, to discuss my upcoming
Trephination surgery, the driver confirmed it was the building I needed. It’s on Leen Gate in Lenton, and we passed it, and the driver confirmed that it was the place that I needed to get to. Then we got back to the flat, my haemorrhoids were bleeding, and my cartilages were hurting. A bouncy ride, and just as we got on Citrus Grove, where the flats are, we went over the unseen speed bumps, and I suffered again.
Humph! A bit of a mind blank here. I can’t recall getting into my flat! But once inside, the heat in there scared me to death! I hastened to the obvious place the heat was coming from, the kitchen, and found that I had not, as I thought I had, turned off the stove, and it had overheated the place. No signs of damage were found. t must have been on a low heat level. But it could have been dangerous leaving it for all that time. Blimey, I could have easily caused a fire. What a Silly Stupid Iriot!
I searched Google Maps for the neurosurgery place and found it. Now I think it will have to be a taxi to get there and back. Buses with numbers, as well as their timings, are all affected by my Arithmaphobia. I must ask a Carer to help me with that.
I opened the windows and went to the toilet for the first time since Friday night, hoping to pass something smaller than a granite-sausage, this time. I DID… NOTHING! ehehe! Tsk!
Three days now without any rear-end flow,
Will I want, or be able, to go?
Well, I just don’t know!
While sitting there, an evacuation was a no-go…
My mind mused again, on our UK Dumbo,
The unworthy Prime Minister who misleads & lies,
Brewing up problems as yet to be addressed,
Driven by greed, self-wealth; he’s not a theopneust,
The perfect, cunningest solipsist!
I just had to have a go at him, Keir the schiziest, Who hides his empathylessness!
I liked scribbling that, I’m at my wittiest!
Carer Mirza, formerly Carer Mizra, because I was misspelling his name. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately, doing things, making choices, wrongly.
Telling Mirza (I got it right then!) about the ambulance driving by the neurosurgery place, and matching it with what he said about the scan revealing a lot of fluid on the brain, gave me hope that this may be the worrying problem lately with my brain-power loss. Just maybe, they can slow down my decline. I know the Doctor said it can’t be stopped, but I’m clinging to the hope that the Trethination procedure could slow it down. You don’t know how much this gives me hope for carrying on living in the flat, and not being sentenced to living in some old people’s care home. PLEASE! Anyway, Mizra… Mirza understood what I was saying. He gave me the… Crapllemongers, I spelt his name wrong again, sorry mate. Mizra… Got It! Mirza had followed what I was saying and wished me all the best with it. Telling me I am a lovely man and patient. Double, nae, treble Smug mode utilised! Bless him. edications were issued, and he had to dash off to catch the bus to his next client.
I phoned Sister Jane to tell her I had escaped the hospital and was now back in the flat.
I got on like a house on fire with the blogging catch-up. When the teatime dilapidation started. Tired, weary. No chance of finishing it today. I thought I’d aim to make a meal: Sausages, garden peas, and eat each sausage with a slice of Milk Roll bread, with sauce, naturally. I’ll test the yoghurt before deciding if it’s alright, as it’s one day out of date. Then try to get an early night, so at long last I can get up in the morning bright & early (Ahem!) and get a full ablutioning session in, but we’ll see.
Carer Mirzra snapped the outdated calendar clock. Then he made the necessary changes and adjustments for me.
Someone unknown sent me this via email. It may have been from Ejaz from last week. I can recall us looking at the partial moon. Ejaz must have snapped it for me and forgot to send it earlier? Thanks, mate.
I felt terrible later on when I found the LU biscuits I bought to thank Jenny; I still haven’t taken them to her flat. I need to text her to find the best time for me to take them down. Please remember!… I’ll do it now… Huh, the battery’s dead, I’m charging it.
I think one of the Carers took some shots for me. I’ll put them on tomorrow’s blog when I get them. I’m sure that the Carer took a night shot and the meal. Oh, such an excellent meal. If he did, you’ll salivate at it, well, maybe not, but it was lovely to me. I’ll be disappointed if I’ve got this wrong.
Now, being so short of sleep, will I nod of and dwell with Sweet Morpheus, and awake refreshed? eeply contented, with a warm feeling inside of me… I suppose something will ruin my rest, just a feeling that has come over me… We’ll see. I might be wrong, of course, but this has been known.
I need to dig around again on Monday. I know I had two spare SD cards that worked on Kodak Tim 2. I’ll have to find them or at least recall what I did with them. How to do that is another query that I anticipate may end up in the ether-full of so many other forgotten and/or misforgotten recent things, events and intentions.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Gone is my logic, I’m no longer systematical,
A lot of what I do, I find incomprehensible,
It’s the new stuff that’s memory-dissolvable,
My new phone’s manual is incomprehensible,
The print is tiny, microscopic, unreadable,
I tried my magnifying glass, it was a travail…
I’d forget what I read that was readable,
The following page was also unmanifestible,
Grasping instructions was once so trivial…
Now I find them to be unconscionable,
Gladys Glaucoma make my vision all umbral,
I lose concentration, having to stop for a while,
To regularly deal with problems urothelial,
Then along comes another seizure, often focal,
Some ailments seem to me to be uncategorical,
To cope, I have to resist getting cynical,
Accept the illogical, don’t get hysterical,
My brain goes off-track, into the philosophical,
Reasons, causes, why… It’s all mystical,
Or should I have said then, mythical,
Help, understanding, all unascertainable,
I lose hours daily being self-rhetorical,
Over-understood problems, some medical,
Physical & Mental, possibly psychological,
Neurological? Neurotransmitters or Perceptional?
New ailments, the others still progressional,
I’m still here, I think that’s phenomenal,
Although the help I can afford is nominal,
Life has never been known as preconditional,
In fact, it is more likely to be probational,
It can be happy, hell, or promiseful,
Die young, be killed in war, or be put on a pedestal,
Do we go back to ashes? Nowhere, heaven or Hell?
I’d like to send Starmer a mine – antipersonnel! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – PROLEGOMENA I was having an excellent sleep last night. Broken now and then by either Twitching-Neck-Ted or an Anne Gyna attack, but not very often. Until that is, the waking at 03:15hrs. Nothing special about it, but could I get back to sleep? No! This didn’t seem to bother me, and after a few minutes trying to nod off again, I gave up. Even Ann Gyna started to have a go at me when I freed myself of the clutches of the bed and bent down to release the nocturnal pouch from the catheter. Then I realised a Eureka moment was taking place. For the first time ever, I’d woken up with in attendance! I was in one of his ‘Sod-Them-All’ moods and became almost industrious. I got the dressing gown on, slippers and went into the kitchen on a safety check. Taps, fridge doors and stove were all okay. Even with Anne Gyna and Cartilage Chloe, both making hobbling around painful. I just didn’t care! YeeHaa! Heaven!
. I woke up at 03:15 hours, but couldn’t get back to sleep. Did the safety… Oh, I’ve just told you this already.
I changed the dates on the calendar clock. And used some toothache spray as the Toothache Tiffany kicked off.
I started updating (not a lot needed) and completed the blog, then posted it off.
I should have been, or rather would usually have been, in at least a semi-depressed stage with all the pains still emanating from my mouth, neck and being a smidge persistent. But I wasn’t in the slightest. I made my way to the wet room to use the facilities. Then, I sorted out the ablutions and medication. Even causing one of the messiest, wettest evacuations… also one of great pungeancy, foul, dark green. This one made me think of the Soylent Green movie. Have you ever seen this film? The name of the product itself is a portmanteau of soy and lentil, which is what it’s made of in the book. Soylent Green is introduced as being made of plankton, but as the film unfolds, the main character discovers that it’s manufactured from dead bodies. It was released in 1973. Starring Charlton Heston & Edward G Robinson. I recall thinking it was a relatively slow film, and politicians would never do anything like that. (Back in 1973) Now we have Herr Starmer, and Oligarch leaders, Murdering Putin & La-La Criminal Trump in charge. So… Got carried away again there, sorry.
The shaving went well, just three teeny-weenie nicks. Despite the teeth-cleaning being bloody, I was still feeling perky. The medicationing went grand. Only back flaps to ask the Carer to do for me… then, things took a turn for the worse…
As I stepped back from the floor cabinet, I trod on a tube of Savlon that I must have dropped earlier. Cartilage Chloe gave on me, and both knees his the floor together. Leaving me with Chloe on the left knee, and Arthur Itis attacking the right knee.
This did not bode well for me getting up again, and the wristlet alarm was on either the wire nest table or the floor cabinet. I couldn’t get up to search for it. The agony of getting back to the recliner on all fours, pressing the knees each time I nudged myself along, was excruciating. But I got there.
I failed so many times trying to get onto the recliner; it was just too painful on my cartilage and knees. Feeling a bit of a plonker, I made one final effort. I’d decided that if this doesn’t work, I’ll crawl back to the wet room to press the alarm; I’ve no option. Had I had more teeth left, I’d have gritted them… I girded my loins, and it took me a lot of suffering and effort, but I made it into the recliner.
Gawd, the relief! I stayed down for about ten minutes, building up the courage to cope with the pain in my knees as I stood up.
Obviously, I’d left the four-pronged walking stick in the wet room while I crawled to the recliner. But I keep a wooden one near the bed, so I used that.
My balance wasn’t too good.
Cleaned the mess in the wet room, collected the alarm and stick, and came back a lot easier by using two sticks. Replaced .
I did a good job getting up early!
I pressed on, surprised by how I coped with the results of the tumble. And started this blog.
I was taking an Anti-Trots capsule as the door chime chimed. No one came in, but I’d unlocked the door… or had I? Knowing me. I went to the door, and it was unlocked. Carer Jyoti arrived, I think.
Nimra tried to get the key from the wall safe. But I had the same luck as the other Carers. I explained to her that I’m having trouble getting the key out, too. Every time Warden Deana shows us how to do it, it works the first time. Hehehe! I asked Jyoti to put the diabetic socks on for me and to apply barrier cream to the back flaps. Also, she issued the medications and put my socks on.
After the girl left, I took a photo from the balcony on the right end. The mudslide looked thicker than usual this morning. Did heavy rain & wind play a part yesterday?
I had a nosey around the view. I took another shot of the same area when I thought I saw a bird in the mudslide. No rain today, and the wind was far less bothersome.
Worked away on this blog, at last.
I suddenly remembered that during the tumble, I had spotted something gold-coloured that had fallen behind the floor cabinet. I went to investigate, taking the long picker-upperer with me. I was astounded when I recognised it. It was a bottle of eau de cologne. I bought this eight years ago, from the Poundshop on Upper Parliament Street. But managed to lose it. It was down there all that time. Shows how the cleaner or Carer is not good at cleaning.
Back on today’s blog.
Raining again, but not a lot. No howling winds to put up with today. Having said that, my rear end…
Mild Vegetarian Curry,
With Gung Po sauce
and sweet corn.
Three Sky shots within 2 minutes of each other. Speedy sunset tonight.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A fair young maiden granted a date with Inchie,
‘Yes’, she said. Inchy thought in ambiguity,
A leg-pull? A tease? Inchie felt uneasy,
She spoke posh, not Nottinghamese,
Her legs, bum & breasts, I like these…
Surely this date would be paradise?
If I get more than a cuddle, that’d be nice,
She didn’t turn up, but sent her niece,
Big, solid gal, my type, her name was Bernice,
Long brown hair, strong and solidly heavy,
Within minutes, I knew she was my cup of tea,
No fears of riding pillion, at the back of me,
She grabbed for support, all over my body,
Her grip and wandering hands, happily…
Covered more than my midriff and knee!
She giggled and groped me incessantly,
We stopped at a roadside mobile noshery,
I went to get her a beeburger and a mug of tea,
We chatted, and she said she was a nursing auxiliary,
Gave me a kiss, said she’s off for a pee…
Patting Little Inchy, she shot off to the lavatory,
She didn’t return, never saw her again, sadly,
I searched but couldn’t find her, a worry,
Little Inchy was no longer acting accretionally,
When I went to pay for our burgers and tea,
Thinking back to her groping on the back of the Suzuki,
I realised she’d nicked my wallet & money! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
05:10hrs: I woke and tried to get back to sleep. But it was no good, so I decided to get the ablutions done early before a Carer arrives. Getting down to release the nocturnal catheter pouch was as painful as it has ever been. Three reasons for that: 1. The catheter tube is cruelly pulling on Little Inchy. 2. Bending brought on Dizzy Denis & Balance-Loss-Belinda. 3. The swollen Cartilage Chloe and Arthur Itis joined forces; they were so painful and bloated on the left knee. I got the bag freed, but am concerned about the loose release valve on the day pouch. I dribbled yesterday, when I assume I caught the longer lever, which has a 50% wobble. Checked the kitchen for safety, and went off to the Porcelain Throne evacuation. Trotsky Terence was in charge again. This time, dark brown, gooey and messy. The cleaning-up time was longer than the evacuation time, yet again.
I washed my dandies, emptied the urine pouch, and went into the kitchen to bag things. Taking this scene of the morning view. Not as pretty as yesterday’s. No pink in it at all.
Back to the wet room. Carried out the Ablutions and Medicating. The only real problems were Cartilage Chloe threatening to give way, and poor Little Inchy’s Fungal Lesion bleeding… or rather, applying the ointment to stop the bleeding. I’ve had much worse sessions overall, though.
Back in the kitchen, I put the waste bin bag into the big bag. Taking another shot of the same view from the kitchenette window.
In the balcony room, I changed the calendar clock and inserted the hearing aids into my earholes. And I realised I’dn’t altered the month; it was still July showing. I’d have thought someone would have noticed it. I got in a pickle last month with using the dates from this clock. Hehehe! I asked Ejaz to keep an eye on it.
I popped out on the balcony, nearly taking a tumble as Cartilage Chloe went on me. To take a snap or two.
The first one taken straight ahead, zoomed on the dwellings, drug dealers and growers, muggers, pickpockets and unemployed, immigrants, scroungers, drug gangs, freed burglars, murderers & child molesters on parole. But I’d sooner live here than anywhere near the biggest crook, liar, and unprincipled, corrupt, immoral, unscrupulous, dishonest, evil-intentioned, dishonourable, splenetic, nefarious, fiendish, detestable, deceitful, insincere, criminal, unethical, miscreant, and merciless, debased, ruthless, heartless, sepulchral, gut-churning, sick-making, murderer-freeing ex-barrister, Labour party principles destroying, apostate, reprobate, Herr ‘backhander-taking, disabled voters bankrupting, pensioner and farmer killing,’ Starmer. I just thought I’d like to mention my views.
The 2nd snap of Citrus Walk’s end car parking area. And the parking on the chevrons by the little red car. Haha!
I started blogging and was doing reasonably well for an hour or so.
Carer Ejaz arrived. He issued the medications. Then got the diabetic socks fitted for me. During which I felt a sharp pain in the area of the right leg. This was followed by several small electric shocks shooting up the leg. I asked him to pull the sock down to have a look. He said some liquid is leaking through the skin. Ejaz applied barrier cream to it. We noticed after, and a small piece of skin was on the carpet, just an inch or so. I asked him to put some Phorpain Gel in the cartilages. This seemed to ease them a smidge, but they still kept threatening to fail on me. The left cartilage was still swollen. And the unmistakable pain from Arthur Itis joined in. Little monkeys!
A few more hours on the blog, but now I’m making the daftest of errors, costing me ages to spot and put right. Well, I think I got most of them.
A District Nurse came in, made me jump as well, as there was no door chime pressed. I think the gal was in a hurry. It was the same lady as last time.
She checked my rear end and reported it was much less red and on the mend. 🤎 She took a look at the leaking Lymphorrhea leg and deemed it a scratch from Ejaz putting the socks on, which should be no bother, but she took a photo of it. Bless her.
I took a snap from the kitchen of the windows. I forecast that it will be raining soon. Arthur Itis coming on is a sign of that. Back to the front room, and took another snap from the computer desk… well, the 1963-built, falling to pieces, tatty, scuffed, Hopewell’s E-Plan Sideboard, with the doors falling off, to be more precise. Haha!
Ten minutes later, the howling winds and rain started. They are still here two hours later. I went onto the balcony later to take some photos. The wheelchair was soaked, as were the four and three-wheeled walkers! The gaps between the windows were how the rain got in. Again, it was coming from the East. The rain, I mean. The wind seemed to be churning in from all directions. Howling again. The rain is now worse than ever, and the wind seems to have died down a smidge. At least it’s not so noisy. Huh, minutes later, the wind was back. Blowing the trees and branches around as if they were made of paper.
It’s the wildlife I feel sorry for.
Ejaz just returned for a quick check-in call. He took a photo on his mobile, they have a great camera, of birds battling to keep their young from being blown out of the nest. I imagine many would have been at the height of the storm. Poor things.
The wind seems easier now, but the rain is filling the balcony up, and I can’t lift the broadwalks.
I went to the kitchen to sort out what meal to have. And the rain had stopped. So I went into the other room, grabbed Kodak Tim 2, and returned to take a snap of the sunshine. But no. The rain had started again. So I took shots of the rain from inside. One from the left window, and the second one from the right window.
I got some potatoes into the oven, and the rain had stopped again, along with the wind. Methinks maybe we might get a rainbow shortly. I put the photos onto the computer, and nipped back to check the potatoes.
Carer Ejaz did the medical call. Waking me up to go to the intercom to admit him. I asked him to take off the diabetic socks during this call instead of the last. Which he did. I keep falling asleep and getting woke up to let Ejaz in. Hehehe!
Meal of the day
I went to get the pots washed and took this snap of the sunset.
I fell blissfully asleep again.
Woken again to go to the intercom to admit Ejaz for his final call of the day. No need to remove the socks, of course, just has some Peptac. Ejaz checked the safety of the kitchen & wet room, and was off within 4 minutes. It was lovely for me not to delay him for once. Still tired out, I got down in the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner.
But this time, Sweet Morpheus did not arrive. It was fitful dozing off and jumping awake for hours. I gave up and got up at 03:30hrs.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Please read, and apprehend; there’s no need to listen,
It may read that I wrote it in Lalaland, and lubrication,
Or amidst a seizure, or am I practising levitation,
I don’t expect pity, freebies, or any laudation,
I’m trying to avoid malapropisms and literalisation,
Failure will undoubtedly turn me back to libation,
A comfort from my last life, when I was a Latvian,
To say I remember, I’ve not learnt my lesson,
I’m impractical, get lost mentally, a luftmenschen,
They put me on a mood stabiliser, called Lithium,
Shortly after, I craved to be a lighthouseman,
I often come out with gibberish and lallation,
My infected brain works in laevorotation,
Backwards in other ways, I seek liberation,
From Starmers dictatorship & legislation,
Sometimes I burst out in lacrimation!
I am often confused & bemused, strife-ridden,
I struggle with recognition and recollection,
I hoped for rejuvenation, but got rejection,
My cerebrum gives a varying reaction,
To my question or recommendation,
Physically, mentally, I get no recreation,
My new phone gives terrible reception,
I asked my neurologist for a reexamination,
To get help, mayhap a reevaluation,
I’ve lost my concentration and reputation,
I think I’m falling into acceptance or resignation,
Huh, cursing Starmer again, hatreds return,
Caused by my writing that word, Nation,
Claiming all our problems, he will righten,
He, a barrister, a liar, I’m so easy to frighten! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A day of Accifauxpas, Whoppsiedangleplops, errors, typographical cock-ups, failing cartilages causing a tumble, computer problems, computer cock-ups, medical cancellations, various Catheter Contraption pains, depressions, frustrations, confusion, Gladys Glaucoma vision problems, Anne Gyna stabbings, Tiffany Toothache, and Earache Erasmus. So, a normal sort of day, then.
06:30hrs: Removed the catheter night pouch from the day contraption. The cartilages were playing up the instant that I rose from the bed and started to hobble around. I’d been dreaming, I knew that, but it was so annoying that I couldn’t remember any real details of it. Grumph!
I went onto the balcony and noticed the usual carefree parking and the mudslide in the end car park. It wasn’t raining at the time. By the time I got into the kitchen to take shots through the windows, the rain was back. It seemed heavy, but it stopped again as I was taking the second shot. This is when I had one of . I’ve not had any of these for a while, so long that I thought they had had their run. Sandra’s Seizures last longer, sometimes much longer. But this time, I felt it coming on as I shut down the Kodak Tim 2 camera. I stood gazing out the window, trying to focus on the view in hopes of avoiding distractions; an experiment of sorts —and I remained standing, checking my watch as I did so. I came around to find myself sitting down on 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. The usual dizziness and confusion that usually follow such things were much milder. I was holding the grip of with both hands. It barely took me a couple of minutes before I felt ready for activity, and I was worried about what I’d done in the kitchen; had I put the stove on, left the fridge door open, left a tap/faucet running? I hobbled to the kitchen. No signs of anything dodgy having been done. Then I looked at my high-quality watch, bought from Bilwell Market for £8 (Hehe!), to find that only three minutes had passed since I started losing it. This sometimes confuses and amazes me. How, if as they tell me, I must have been in a seizure, and stood up at the time, and getting to the recliner, without the slightest knowledge of doing so? I can walk into things, and drop things, or fail to let things go, when I am in my usual wakeful scenario, yet as far as I recall, I’ve never taken a tumble within the grip of any of the types of seizures that I’m supposed to be liable to have. Mr Google tells me more than the Doctor does. I forget her name now, erm… it doesn’t matter. “A seizure” is a burst of uncontrolled electrical activity between brain cells (also called neurons or nerve cells) that causes temporary abnormalities in muscle tone or movements (stiffness, twitching or limpness), behaviours, sensations or states of awareness. This links up with my Peripheral Neuropathy, episodic ataxia, and FND symptoms (definitely). Nicodemus’s neurotransmitters are slowly dying off. I don’t think that the diabetic polyneuropathy is linked to the seizures. Diabetic polyneuropathy symptoms;
Numbness and tingling: Often starting in the toes and fingers, and potentially progressing up the limbs. I’ve told the Doctor.
Pain: This can be described as burning, stabbing, or shooting pain. And electric shocks for me
Loss of sensation: Difficulty feeling temperature changes or pain in affected areas.Right again!
Muscle weakness: Especially in the feet and hands. Don’t I know it!
Loss of balance and coordination: Due to nerve damage in the feet and legs. Oh, Yes!
Changes in digestion: Constipation or diarrhoea. Alternations. Spot On!
Bladder or bowel problems: Difficulty controlling urination or bowel movements.Too true!
Erectile dysfunction: Difficulties in achieving/maintaining an erection.Mission impossible nowadays!
Hypoglycemia unawareness: Not feeling the usual warning signs of low blood sugar. Correct!
Orthostatic hypotension: A drop in blood pressure when standing up, causing dizziness or fainting. Spot On!
Sensitivity to touch: Some individuals experience severe discomfort from even light touch, like the weight of a bedsheet. Or someone massaging or tapping them on the head. True!
Foot problems: Ulcers, infections, changes in foot shape, and joint pains can develop. Yes, I often get these!
Peripheral neuropathy: Affecting the limbs, this can cause numbness, tingling, burning, sharp pains, or extreme sensitivity to touch, especially in the feet. It can also lead to muscle weakness, balance issues, foot problems like ulcers, and loss of reflexes. Balance issues, numbness, tingling, sharp pains, and sensitivity to touch? That’s me!
They’ve missed symptoms off of this list! No mention is made of being unable to pick something up or let go of it. The shoulder jerks, loss of finger sensation & coordination, being woken up by , or the times when you just can’t use a tin-opener or knife safely if at all, fit a key into a lock, or even get a plug into the computer or the kitchen sink. Just thought I’d mention these.
Wouldn’t it be nice if Herr Starmer were to read this? Fair enough, he wouldn’t give a toss… unless I was rich enough to slip him a backhander or two. I officially HEX the liar from today!
Should he come a cropper or snuff it, as a result of my hexing him, I may regain my Faith. I just thought I’d mention it, in passing.
I wrote this on Friday, so please be patient.
I lost the plot again there!
Here comes the food, from Asda,
Just 3 items missing, so not a disaster,
I do like their 1½litre Brecon Spring Water, Sticky & Smokey BBQ baby potatoes,
I ordered these accidentally,
They may taste nice, who knows? I meant to order these beer-battered chips,
They also sell beer-battered crisps,
Makes a change from the mini potatoes. I can’t recall wanting these on the left…
The Halal sausages match the best! Half & half, vegan and beef & veg pasties,
I had a vegan one tonight, a delight. Cheesey cobs, from Asda’s bakery,
Leicester cheese inside, very tasty,
Only a day’s use-by date, usually it’s three! On Special Offer – LU cookie,
I bought a pack for Frank & Jenny,
Hope I remember to tell them Thursday! Cleaned and reloaded my nibble jars.
I had two no-butter buttered cobs, cheesie,
Red onions, & tomatoes, red, yellow and greeny,
Ate it, dipping it in the BBQ sauce frequently. The dish, tray & floor ended up all crumby.
Three visits today, each one a Trotsky Terry,
A lot went wrong, ending with self-acrimony,
No seemed to be answering me…
No news on the computer help from Deana or Julie.
The contents insurance letter has seen a significant increase in cost, up over £50!
I blame our head crook, pensioner-robbing & killing, Disabled allowance cutting, NHS running-down, Family farmers bankrupting, fibbing, backhander-taking, ex-bent barrister, Labour Party Leader, who is about as much Labour as Margaret Thatcher was, Herr Kier Starmer! I lost the plot again, didn’t I?
I was doing well on Thursday, with updating this blog, albeit late in the day.
I forgot about checking the catheter bag. Usually, I get a warning from the flowback pains when it is too full. But not today. It filled up to the maximum without me sensing it, and down the leg it slipped, with all the weight pulling on Little Inchy! Argh! I tried to snap it before emptying it. The photo I took did not show the balloon bulge well enough.
Hey-Ho! It’s my own fault. Sometimes, not very often, a Carer will check it, but not today.
