– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Food Shortages On The Way Carbonated Drinks/Beer: CO2 is crucial for carbonation, and shortages can affect production. Meat Products: Chicken and pork, which require CO2 for packaging and processing, are deemed highly vulnerable. Salad/Packaged Foods: Shortages in carbon dioxide affect the shelf life and packaging of fresh, prepared fish, fruit and salad items. Baked Goods: As with salads, some vegetable packaging may be affected. CO2 Shortages: A major UK plant’s potential issues, coupled with high natural gas costs, have constrained the supply of fertiliser and CO2, a by-product of the process. Geopolitical Instability: Threats to supply chains and rising energy costs, with warnings of shortages within weeks. Flight Cancellations: Airlines are reducing flights due to a jet fuel shortage, leading to many cancellations of orders. Fresh Produce: Tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers may face shortages or significant price hikes due to rising, war-driven energy costs for greenhouses. What To Stock Tinned Meats & Fish: Tuna, sardines, salmon, corned beef, spam, corn, and stewed steak.
Tinned Meals/Veg: Baked beans, chickpeas, kidney beans, soup, and tinned potatoes.
Carbs: Pasta, rice, noodles (like Super Noodles), dried soya, and oats.
Long-life Dairy & Alternatives: UHT milk, powdered milk, and canned custard.
Nutrient-Dense & Pantry Items: Peanut butter, nuts, dried fruit, honey, and cooking oils (ghee).
Comfort Foods: Chocolate, biscuits, crisps, some sauces and sweets. Recommendations Stockpiling Advice: Experts suggest maintaining a basic inventory of non-perishable items, including tinned foods, rice, and pasta. STARMER The UK government is planning for potential summer 2026 food shortages: chicken, pork, and products requiring carbon dioxide, such as packaged meats and fizzy drinks, due to disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz. While not currently critical, this “worst-case scenario” could lead to reduced variety in supermarkets and higher food inflation, currently forecast to increase by 10-15%.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – After yesterday’s unbelievable series of happenings, Frustrations, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, and Mini-Catastrophies, that followed a similar pattern to the three days before, I felt surely today, the Lord’s Day, would bring a less-pressured, less-hassled, mayhap even calmer, smoother day. 06:35hrs, I stirred, feeling that the swollen legs were a little less painful. Until I tried to stand up. Sorry, but today has been so busy again.
BP on Hyper Level. Iceland order. Not a lot. Plenty of bog rolls and spring water, just in case of shortages coming, Need it for the Catheter. State of retained water feet. Carbonated drinks. Afternoon views. Tree Copse, how I miss visiting it. Sky snap. After the 2nd nurse’s visit. CorelDraw froze, again! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Not much detail, so far behind again. Just too busy, Humph! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Ejaz did all but the last call today, a grand lad, conscientious and caring. 👌🏼 Another good um, Mizra did last call.
Jenny, bless her, rang me and commiserated. 👼🏻 My Guardian Angel. 👼🏻
Got some food made up, Mizra had kindly prepped for me earlier. Just got to get the spuds and peas out of the slow-cooker, if they are ready.
They were… Imitation crabsticks, pickled mushrooms, Extra-Strong Stilton cheese, garden peas heated in soy sauce, chopped green tomato, and all the remaining small potatoes with a splash of Hoisin sauce on the spuds. Gorgeous Taste!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Another day of gaffes, mishaps, & Accifauxpas. I suppose that these were the cause, reason, for the non-appearance of my beloved and much missed . And the, dragging-me-down surfeit of . Assisted by Dastardly Dementia Doreen, letting me down so often, and causing irritations, frustrations, making the day seem to go as fast as a month would. One thing after another. Only increased the mental mayhem.
05:10hrs: I jerked awake, I took the catheter bag off and, seeing the state of the day bag on the leg, made a mental note to ask a Carer why it had not been changed for three weeks; it should be, and was at one time, done weekly as the nurses instructed. This seems to have been forgotten about lately. My fault as much as the Carers’, I keep forgetting to ask them if they can do it. But with the times cut back, they would not get the other jobs done if they changed the bag as well. Frustrations of the day started here.
I hobbled into the kitchen to check on the taps, cupboards and fridge doors, nothing amiss. (Honestly)
I took a couple of snaps of the view on offer from the kitchen windows. As you see, they didn’t exactly come out very well. In fact, they were atrocious. Off to the wetroom to make an early start on the . These did not go very well this morning. Starting with the first job on the Porcelain Throne. Trotsky Terence burst forth a dollop of watery, smelly, yellowish mush! I cleaned up and went to get the toothpaste, toothbrush and mouthwash ready to use – I didn’t make it; I rushed back to the porcelain and only just in time, as another near liquid burst forth into the WC bowl. This time, I remained seated, and sure enough, two minutes later, a third evacuation of the same ilk squirted out. Cleaned up again and back to get the teeth-cleaning pot… dropped it on the floor as I felt the rear-end evacuation on its way… Again! Same routine, and back to the teeth cleaning. I was a little miffed with the diarhorrea back once more, and was a little overkeen with the toothbrush. The gums hurt, but they did not bleed too much. I was putting the stuff back in the pot, and after yet another sitting down, a messy session on the Porcelain Throne – Even I find this could not be happening! But, it was! Started shaving. By the time I’d finished, I began to struggle to stop the three teeny-weeny cuts from bleeding. I had to put a plaster on my chin, but it stopped leaking later. As did the evacuations… eventually. Just as I was squeezing the Germaloid tube onto some gauze, burst forth with a short, sharp, costly hand and finger shaking session. I couldn’t release my grip on the just-opened tube of Germalloid Ointment, and it shot out about 95% onto the floor and the wall. Poor old paid the price in pain. Then, as I was getting the new protection pants on, I lost my balance, and with some quick but stupid reaction to avoid a tumble, I hastily plopped my overweight bum on the toilet seat – which worked. Realising as I gingerly got back up on my feet, I could feel the blood running down the back of my leg. What a bleed it was from Harold’s Haemorrhoids! I ripped off the pants at the tear-points, and got the blood cleaned up from the floor, my leg and foot.
Frustrations of the day continue…
Then had to battle against my nervousness to get another pair of PPs on! I got the Health Checks done and recorded on the board, then made a brew of Typhoo Extra Strong tea. Updated the calendar.
I was washing the mug, and Carer Manprett arrived. She thought I’d just had a seizure, but didn’t say why she felt that. Gave me a body check. Barrier cream, Phorpain Gelled the lower back and both knees. Medications issued. And said she wanted to call me ‘Bapu’. That is “Dad” or “Grandad” in Pakistani-English; I looked it up later. Bless her. She also checked that the HC figures were written correctly – I’d made one cock-up with the temperature. Tsk!
Frustrations of the day continue…
I spent three hours on the replacement word listings! No blog work done at all yet. Humph! Carer Mirza arrived. He took the replacement TV remote out of the bag, and as I was telling him not to press the red button, he did before I asked. Well, that seemed to be the end of any hope of getting Virgin TV back on. The lad did not have time to fuss with it. Mirza said for me to ask Ejaz on Wednesday. He had to rush off. Can’t be helped. But I got the feeling they had no time to do anything. And with the day catheter pouch not being replaced for weeks… a little disappointed, and shamefully sorry for missen!
Frustrations of the day continue…
I managed to finish yesterday’s blog and send it off. Decided to celebrate with another mug of tea.
Started again, the ndanged short-as-a-flash ones that leave me of sync & balance. Spent a lot more time recovering than having seizures.
Frustrations of the day continue…
When I did finally get to the kitchenette, I found I’d left the hot faucet running again! Kicked in, not had much bother from her for a week or so; still, she has as much right as any other ailment.
Noticing how heavy it was raining, after making the brew, I went out onto the balcony to take some shots through the glass… the rain was pouring in through the front windows. The wheeled walkers and two wheelchairs were soaked… I got a bit wet taking the photographs. (Haha!) I had to take off the dressing gown & kaghoule & put them on the airers to dry. Back on the balcony to take some more photographs of the rain. This one came out a little better than the others, so I tried to get some to the left side of the balcony. Pointing down at the car park opposite Winwood Heights block of flats. This one was taken straight ahead to the left of the balcony. Back on the computer, and I got a call on the landline phone, it was from the Doctor’s surgery. Informing me that the hospital had changed the Ramipril Capsules from 15g to 10g, I think he said. Two years ago, I was on 30g. They did the same with the Phorpain Gel: started at 30%, then 15%, and now 10%.
Along with saving the NHS money on them, as they did in cancelling my Glaucoma operation, and I’m now virtually blind in my left eye, not one of the five promised offers of help when I was in hospital has arrived. The neurologist who saw me about the seizures wanted a photo of me in one… it took two weeks, but much-missed Carer Nimra took a video, and Carer Ejaz helped sort out how to send it via email to the Doctor, who has not been in touch at all. Adding Herr Goldenballs Starmer’s robbing us pensioners of the winter fuel allowance, I reckon they’ve made a profit out of me, and pissed me off!
Frustrations of the day continue…
At long last, I got around to starting this blog. I was interrupted by the last visit of the day to the !
After the last evacuation of the day (this is a bit misleading, cause I was up until gome 03:00hrs doing this blog, and had to pay another early morning visit), I had to get the mop and bucket out to clean and freshen the floor of blood and a few splashes from Trotsky Terence’s activities. As I tugged at the mop, which had got caught in the wheel of the trolley, it shot up. I hit myself in the face with it!
Frustrations of the day continue…
The result was agony from . I often write these quips about my luck, just for a bit of humour, tongue in cheek, getting into the proceedings.
The mysteries of Woodthorpe Court, with the hobgoblins, spectres, gnomai, phantasms, grotesque succubae, Whoopsiedangleplops, ailments, extraterrestrials, ectoplasms, spirits, Accifauxpas, rent increases, food price hikes, and the Fata Morganas, that have been sent to taunt, irritate and terminate my already limited saneness of mind? I’m thinking after this week’s, especially today’s cock-ups & go wrongs, they all might be true! Hehehe!
I started cooking the meal of the day. Oven chips, Polish kielbasa, and beetroot. I got the oven on and set the mobile phone alarm for 25 minutes, when the chips should be cooked. Then a fatal decision was taken… I thought I’d do a little word list updating. An hour into it, and I smelt the burning chips! No idea why I didn’t hear the mobile alarm go off… (I likely set it wrong, it’s the first time I’ve tried to use it… and the last time, too!) I salvaged most of the chips, another bad decision that was… they were so hard I had to soak them with vinegar to eat them, and started the gums bleeding. I got them eaten, well, no, not all of them. Suddenly, as I was standing up to take and wash the dishes…
Frustrations of the day continue…
Carer Dilan arrived. I mentioned that no one had been changing my day bag for three weeks, and he laughed. I don’t think he was being rude at all, just didn’t understand what I was saying. Which is fair enough, I couldn’t understand what he was saying later. I said my farewells, then went to clean out and antiseptise my mouth from the bleeding gums.
I stopped for a few minutes of quietism: another mistake! All I achieved from it was feeling more deeply depressed at how life is going. The best Carers have had their calls on me reduced; one does not call at all nowadays. Can anyone tell me if CDB helps with depression?
I’ll look it up… Nope!
Well, well, well, (and I’m not well, Haha!) early hours of the morning now, and believe it or not, I’ve just found bleeding from Little Inchy. Best I can guess, it’s coming from either the tube or the fungal lesion. Going to need help with this one. How embarrassing! Always the weekend when summat needs attention!
Frustrations of the day continue…
Not a lot worse than many other days lately. But everything has got to me more today. I’ve ordered some St John’s Wort capsules. Once a day, read all the reviews; it might work. Then I checked on Google… Too dangerous to take with Warfarin! I’ve tried to cancel it. They say they will try, but it may be too late! (I only ordered it ten minutes ago!) Hope they do/can stop it.
Frustrations of the day continue…
So tired, and it’s 04:00hrs now. But I want to look at the WP Reader, and I did. KITTY OF THE DAY – ANDY
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I had a theme for my Ode to relate, My body needs my brain to cooperate, It talks to itself – rubbish, bletherskate, My dream? In a cave, the walls began to corruscate, I was with someone, a Carer, lover and old mate? As he/she started on me, to lambaste & berate… Its body faded, it began to loudly cachinate… Folks from my past appeared, as a conglomerate, Hands in hands, they issued me looks of hate, Then howled out loud, they did not abate… I cooked roast potatoes, one on each plate, I wanted to talk, welcome them, hospitate… The howling temporarily stopped, as they ate, Telling me I was a terrible ingrate? Dark Dank Depressing Darius began to inumbrate, The cave grew cold, and I began to sudate, Saying out loud, “What the Hell’s going on, mate?” Dead relatives came, their intentions vulnerate, They came towards me, starting to ululate, I tried to stroke, touch them, to vellicate… I think they may have escaped via St Peter’s gate, Their bodies began to rapidly deteriorate… They started to dissolve, one by one, demoniacal! Is this real, happening, or maybe notional? One went ashen, pasty, anaemic, demonical… One shrank to nothing, all absorbable, One cursed & swore at me, all abuseable! Then exploded. Like a bursting bubble, One blew me a kiss and said I was adorable. I tried to hug her, but she was not touchable… A ghostess, how can she be damageable? She burst into flames, so she was destructible, One turned to glass, she was vitrifiable… Then found out she was also smashable, An eerie hum all around started to bominate, Then the nightmare… morningmare did vacate… 07:00hrs, by gum, I did sleep in late, Fell off the bed, what’s next to tribulate? The dream ending might compensate. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – But and however… This blog was not started until Thursday evening. Wednesday & Thursday were not good for me, but Monday was not too bad at all. Tuesday was troubled with many mini-seizures, each one with not good after-effects, which took a lot out of me, I’m afraid. Concentration was just not there, many accifauxpas, and Dawned that regularly, each one seemed deeper than it really was. Tuesday is best forgotten anyway, so the lack of photos or memories of what happened explains the lack of detail in the scrawny Tuesday section. Wednesday’s cock-ups ensured me that , bless him, he was again a frequent visitor. Many things will be out of sync and order, sorry. Last night’s lack of sleep, due to And his ranting, perpetual criticisms of yours truly, made any proper sleep an impossibility. At least the seizures, only two, were lengthy. I judge from the ease and the incredibly short time it took me to recover each time. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I gave up trying to sleep. Assuming it was about 04:00hrs, but soon found out, after taking of the night bag and going to the wet room to tackle the morning ablutionalisationings… as Carer Manpreet came in it to the flat, that it was actually gone 07:00hrs! WE got the Health Checks done & recorded, and the medications were issued.
Calendar changed, tea brewed.
Morrison order. Moved them into the kitchen. Treats! Favourites. Fridge loaded.
Afternoon seizures.
Evening shot.
Memory, Jet Black Blank Seizures were having a heyday.
Morning shot, I think.
Evening shot, I think.
Just a guess at this rating.
Another stormy night’s sleep. If it wasn’t for my taking a bashing from , I may well have still been in bed when the Carer came again. I decided to force my reluctant body from the bed, primarily, to get a painkiller, to counter the pain from Shirley’s worst-ever night-attack. I didn’t make it. I’m not sure how long it lasted, but it wasn’t long. I could tell after it was all over by the acid reflux coming up in my chest, throat, mouth, and nose, and it was taking so long for me to recover fully. Although, to be honest, I don’t think I did get back to normal, if anything about me can be called normal, (Hehe!) Until 17:00hrs, or so. My plan, formulated this morning, was to get things ready for when Ejaz arrives, go with me to the opticians, and then do as much as I could in the time left, working on the replacement word list.
Carer Manpreet arrived, and she checked that the HC return figures had been recorded correctly. Medications were given. A gaping blank spot in my memory. I assume I’d had a seizure, but Manpreet didn’t tell me… or I didn’t hear or remember her saying. The state I was in after each one today is no surprise. I got on with the word listings for an hour or two. To my utter amazement, an Asda delivery arrived. What? Another food delivery? Beats and worried me. Cheesey cobs. cheesey wriggles, and some iced bread rolls. I tried to gain access to my vacant memory void, to work out when and why. Come to think of it, I may have got the delivery days wrong, sort of back to way, on the wrong days. They may have been the other way around. Or, not. Topped up with waters of various types. It’s costly having to keep swigging a minimum of three litres every day to keep the bladder working. Meat pies with shortcrust and puff pastry tops. Polish cooked smoked ham, Nurses drinkies, and some bacon bits, erm… lardons they are called. Blimus, I’ve got the fridge and freezer crammed full again. But of course, the social lady promised me help with this problem. Also, with the finances, when I get home from the hospital. Assured me of help with the ‘spent a fortune’ on wheelchairs… getting them appropriately fitted and safe to use. Age Concern said… Oh, forget them. I’ve not heard anything from any of them! I’m disappointed and feeling a smidge uncared about, to say the least.
Carer Mizra, then Carer Ejaz, arrived. Mizra departed after medicating me and seeing that things were alright. Ejaz and I got down to the Opticians only to find that we had arrived too late and they could not test my eyes. Ejaz dealt with the receptionist, and they made another appointment for next Wednesday. How we got the wrong time beats me. Ejaz has always taken care of them for me. Sadly, my eyes are getting worse, and later I checked on the HHS site – bad news. It said that if you do not catch it in time, it cannot be repaired. Great! Now it will be another week before the test, and the optician can refer me to the EENT! The eye is getting worse each day, and I’m struggling at times. Nothing new there then. Ejaz and I returned to the flat, and he put the laundry in the washer. Mopped the kitchen for me, and went to get the laundry into the dryer, and realised it had not finished washing. So left it until his subsequent call to collect it for me. Off he went; he’d done the best he could on my behalf.
I pressed on with the word listings, and Ejaz returned to fetch the laundry for me, and he hung it up on hangers. Night medications given.
I started making a template up for this 3-day blog… and realised it was gone 23:00hrs!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – May peace appear and adhere, Today and for your future, Ailments wane, for even longer… Joy to each peacekeeper & peace lover, Help from an evil-abrocator? May humankind find benignity? Can we all live again, less bleak & darker? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
03:30hrs: I bounded out of the hospital bed and somersaulted over the recliner, hit the deck and did a nifty 200 press-ups, followed by another 200 toe-touches. Nipped onto the snow and ice-covered balcony, and did fifteen minutes of shadow boxing. Opened a window and yodelled a good morning to all the wonderful people nearby. Then, I hopscotched to the wet room. Taking off my night cather pouch as I hopped along. Well… that may be a bit of a slight exaggeration? Hahaha!Here’s the reality. 05:30hrs, I reluctantly stirred and tried to will and urge the clock to go backwards. It didn’t work, of course. So, I moved to the edge of the bed and freed the nocturnal catheter from the day bag. Dizzy Dennis was prompted into action as I had to bend down. Although I did not do the balance exercises, as I made my way into the kitchen to check if I’d left taps on, cookers on or fridge doors open, I was coping well, with very few wobbles from the catheters either. All being in order in the kitchen, I visited the Porcelan Throne. I was a few inches off getting seated on the toilet lid, and a torrent of Trotsky Terence proportions fell, no, squirted, no, thundered into the porcelain, with a splash, and it was all finished! It honestly looked as if I’d decorated the bowl with brown emulsion eggshell paint. And had applied multiple coats too! Tsk!
I finally got out of the wetroom after an awful lot of cleaning up was carried out, Haha! Then I took these shots of the view, such as it was, from the kitchen. Not very good, I’m afraid. I’ve been struggling lately to take any worthwhile morning shots. I could hear the police helicopter flying, but not see it.
I made a brew of tea and got the morning HC checks done next. Then had a think about how I could work things out, to get a shower with my ablutions. I decided to get the straps off of the legs and ask Ejaz to take the socks off for me. Ejaz arrived at this point. As I chose not to have a shower after all. (Why, I can’t really recall at this moment) Ejaz got the socks off, then helped wash and dry my feet. Bless him. Issued the medications. No point in any creaming, foaming, or body checks until after I’d finished my ablutions. He did a quick hoover around, bless him again.
I took this shot from the kitchenette window as the morning brightened up a little. But the rain started to come down. Another bad photo. I managed to capture, top left, a patch of turquoise sky that was not visible to the naked eye when I snapped it.
Back into the wetroom, and started the overdue body, teggie, cleaning. Before shaving, I felt the blood coming from . I got things cleaned up, dried and ointmentated various areas of my magnificent, noned, staut, healthy body, where it was required. There were quite a few in need, but things like the Cartilages, Atkritis, Fractured-Knee-Frankie, Lymphorrea Leslie and Ingrowing Toenail Terry were unreachable. Well, I could have reached them, I suppose, but the pain and or dizziness I get bending made me shy away from even trying to medicate them. Chicken! Getting the PPs on went amazingly well today! In fact, it was the easiest ever. And… Little Inchies’ Fungal Lesion did not bleed! Not only that, I’m not kidding… but I had no cuts shaving, and did not walk into any door or wall, all day long!
As I hung the towel to dry on the clothes airer in the hallway, I came as close to tripping over the electric cable without falling as I ever had; it was a miracle. This actually brought on my old, much-missed saviour and friend . I pushed myself on the wall to prevent getting tangled in the heater and wire, and I hit the back of the other wall, which was where I’d left the walking stick, a bit of good luck there! I grabbed it and used the other wall to regain my balance. A definite and wonderful welcome !
Then, the Khagoule needed handwashing, quickly, before the hot water tank refilled and while it was still hot enough. Isn’t life awkward at times? Haha!
I got the dressing gown washed, and got soaked while wringing the Khagoule out after washing it, but it didn’t bother me, for was with me. Which meant I didn’t give a damn about me getting wet, and the kitchen floor would need cleaning or mopping! Puft! Sod ’em all & everything! I hung up the shirt in the wet room to dry.
However, while mopping the floor, I slipped a little and twisted , but it wasn’t the pain it caused. I think it was the disappointment of me having a little run of good luck, for about 15 minutes, then things falling back into my usual feeling of defeatism. Self-pity and self-lambasting started! . I felt so hard done by for some reason. Life is like this for me every single day, so why should it get to me so much more on this occasion? I think I just explained that?
I got on with the blogging at long last, and Carer Mizra arrived. A grand lad. He had to rush, but still got the socks and straps back on the legs for me and kept within his time quota. Thanks to Ejaz, Misra & Ahram for their understanding today.
The rain, although heavy at times, was start-stop at the same time. Does that make sense? I nipped into the balcony to take a snap of the end car park.
Later, I took snaps of the view from the kitchen again, hoping to get a decent one for once. The first one, to the left, was not too bad. The second one was taken to the right of the window. Not too good again. I was determined to get a reasonably decent snap for the third one, Hahaha! Oh, Flipping ‘eck! I might give up trying to take night shops in the future… shops? Now I can’t even type right, or take might photos!
Carer Ahram arrived, and he issued the medications. Emptied the catheter jug for me. He checked that the last HC figures were recorded correctly. Thanks, mate. Blogging, time to start the Ode, methinks.
Sunday morning catch-up.
Something people don’t eat often nowadays. Faggots in gravy with mashed potatoes. A ready-made microwave meal from Parsley Box. I made extra pork gravy, added it to the mix, and dunked two large cheesy-topped bread rolls in it. Do folks do this now? Well, I love them. Especially the faggots, they taste good to me, and no bother about what few rotting, hurting teeth I have left. An old-fashioned meal? Well, yes, but so am I. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I.C.C. Carers’ Manpreet, Mizra, Abdul, and the last one, whose name I forgot to ask. Ejaz did not make any calls again today. Shame!
================================== 🤎 MAY PEACE & JOY INVADE YOU 🤎 ==================================
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If there is a creator, A human being’s maker… And mahap, a world creator? A Universal manipulator-manager? A taking the piss-connoisseur? A being, a God, or a creature?
An atmospheric-based AI server?
Who toyed with the death of the dinosaur,
Cavemen appeared from the sea or river,
Eventually, inventing things like fire,
Clubs to get sex, then candle-power,
Giving humans dominion over fish? Or,
permitted us to make our own culture,
With vague guidelines, a schadenfreude?
Jealousy, greed, the urge to murder,
Wars, battles, more urges to conquer,
Swords to guns, death-tolls ever-higher,
Politicians, Oligarchs, greedily prosper,
Proletariats employed as a gravedigger,
Due to stink, we invented the sewer,
Then our weapons went nuclear,
We learned to use threats and fear…
Each leader, a prospective queller,
This is why so many are drug sellers,
There have never been so many murders,
This is not counting the endless wars,
So many faiths, constant supersedure,
Ordinary folk are getting ever maudliner,
Oligarch, politician, each a thimblerigger,
Only their wealth grows bigger, All houses of faith are no longer sacra, Did you expect this? No need to answer, Not that you ever have, of my prayer, Why have you permitted our technomania? Politicians developing megalomania? Child Molesters, those with kleptomania? Speaking as an Englander… I think we are getting stupider… We’ve gone & voted in Labour! Worst of all, the PM is Starmer! Let me know why, please, Sir… Will I ever get wiser? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Catch up from yesterday. Carer Mirza made the last call tonight. Great to see him for more than one reason. First, he is in the same mould as Carer Ejaz. During his visit, I lost the TV remote. We both searched. Even moved 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, in case it has slid underneath. Mirza checked my dressing-gown pockets, under the bed, all the drawers, and the kitchen… I couldn’t believe it; I heard something fall while I was in the recliner. We moved the ottomans, looked in them, and on the floor, but no remote control. As I was checking under the Carer’s table in the catheter tackle box, in case I’d dropped it in there, Carer Mirza declared he’d found it! Yahoo! It had slipped… don’t laugh, if you can help it, it was in a pouch on the side of the recliner. He told me they put that on all of them so you can store the remote control safely. Fool? I am a fool? No, that’s not a strong enough word! Tsk! I need help.
Last night’s meal
Skyline before getting my head down. But the event of the evening kept from drifting off; mostly self-demamatory thoughts, and joined in.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
06:15hrs: Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off of the day bag. As I stood up, I remembered to do the balance exercises. As I was doing them, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, after a couple of minutes, I was on my way to the wetroom. This session caught me off guard and left me a bit confused. The movement was of a Trotsky Terence style. But the pain it gave me was terrific. That’s the wrong word!
I gathered the Health Check clobber and put it on the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. When the Carer arrived to do the tests for me.
Carer Ejaz arrived minutes later; I had thought he would be a little earlier. He’s bought a car, a Vauxhall Nova. He showed it to me on the balcony, parked in the front car park. I took a photo of it… But, as with so many lately, it had disappeared into the ether from the SD card when I got around to loading it into CorelDraw. How does that happen so often? Ejaz issued the medications, Peptac, removed the straps and under-cover from both feet, and checked how Lymphorrhea Leslie’s legs were looking. They looked far better now. After refitting both leg straps and undercovers, he began a body check and came across a worrying sight. He photod it. It seems I am now getting the Lymphorrhea Leslie effect above the knees! Blobules of lymph fluid had appeared overnight. We’ll see how they go before telling the District Nurses. I have known myself to get them and tell the nurses who come three days later that they had all but vanished. So we weren’t too worried. Of course, I may regret saying that. Hehe! Ejaz carried out the Health Checks. The BP is still a little too high, as it has been all week… again. Thankfully, the lad was like his usual self.
I made a brew of tea, but with a touch of sadness. My small China mug. It had fine, thin spiderweb cracks and was leaking away. (A bit like the new day catheter bags, Humph!) I sulked a little and realised with my luck, it had to happen! I loved that mug; the tea tasted so much better. Sob! The mugs Jenny gifted me are still here, unbroken though. Thanks, Jenny.🤎
A TEMPORARY PANIC! I was working on the blog and using Word Hippo to aid with the Ode, and everything froze. Word Hippo was immediately closed. Then a Warning came up about Word Hippo being a dangerous site. I’ll see if I can find another alternative site to use, and I deleted it from the icon list. Shame it was an incredible site; before they went advert-mad. So easy and intuitive to use. Humph! Does anyone know of a safe, similar site to try? Then I got a warning from Norton about WordHippo being a dangerous site. Offering to do a free Entire Site Virus check. So, I clicked ‘Yes’ at 10:30hrs. Life went into limbo then. It checked my computer, then the extra storage thingy, and then even the ancient (1989) CorelDarw clipart CD. Which, if I followed it correctly, told me it had 184,000 pieces of (terrible) childlike clipart on it, that needed to be checked. A long job! I went into the kitchen, handwashed some socks, hung them up to dry, and returned to watch as the number of checked files rose on the screen. I took a photo of the lovely sky. Returned to the computer and waited for the checks to be completed by Norton. Which they were, at 12:30hrs! With a result that I least expected. ‘Nothing to resolve,’ it told me. Also, I had to close and open the computer after these checks and any corrections were completed. So, I did. Opening it up and the browser, then CorelDraw. I thought another mug of tea was in order after that marathon do-nothing session. ! I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running, and the water had gone stone cold! So much for my planned afternoon ablution session!
Life is getting much harder! Problems coming at me like an armada! Life is no longer avuncular, I fear I’ve got aprosexia, All I want is ataraxia, I frequently get dysphoria, I grow emotionally knurlier, And I walk into doors and furniture!
Ejaz returned for his quick 13:00hrs check.
Then the toenail cutter arrived. She coped with having to remove the straps & underpads from both legs and feet to get at the toenails, £35!
Bonus Cartoon from 2023
Crude, but funny? Haha!
Ejaz did his teatime call, checked on the straps, and new Lymphoria bloblets; they seemed no worse. While creaming the knee, he asked if the legs were bothering me. I replied, “No, they have been calm all day!” Seconds later, as I moved from the chair… ARRGH! I think it was a combination of Arthur Itis and Cartilage Chloe giving me grief; between them, they almost had me over. Hehehe!
I set about removing hundreds of posts from the WP gallery that were from a 2023 search. But I did find some Odes that I could do back then in graphic form; can’t today —not enough memory. Which prompted me to have a clear-out on the WP gallery. Having to delete them one at a time, it took me ages. Does anyone know a quicker way, please?
Well, time to get a meal of some sort, sorted.
I got some mini-potatoes cooking in the oven. A can of mild curry, with Bovril & vegetable seasoning added. Heated this in the microwave, and added the potatoes to the pot, added some vinegar to the potatoes, and got in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Put a recorded ‘Heartbeat’ episode on, and dined away, I almost felt content then. But… As I stood up with the tray in my hand, gave way on me! Luckily, I avoided a meeting with the floor by leaning back into the recliner… With a thud, a clatter from the dropped tray as it spread the contents all over the carpet, and felt the blood coming from ! The protection pants at least stopped it from leaking and running down my legs, onto the bottom, and onto the cushion. t stung a bit! It’s better than having another tumble and weeks spent in the hell-hole of a hospital. I appreciated this even while suffering in relative agony as I tried to get up again. t seemed that Catheter Chloe and Arthur Itis were upset with me plopping down, and showed me this in their usual way – pain-giving! umph! I put the tray and things in the kitchen sink to soak; the water was at last warming up a bit. Off to the wet room to change the PPs, clean up and medicate Arthur Itis and Chloe. Strangely, the most painful part of it all was getting the PPs on. artilage, Chloe, and I assume the fractured bones in the left knee meant pain when genuflecting the knee. The leg had to be lifted to fit in the holes. Haha!
I finally got things sorted and medicated, and limped off to the kitchenette to wash the pots – so glad I hadn’t left the tap running!
Carer Ejaz did his last call. He left the nocturnal bag out for me to fit later. Ejaz offered me Peptac and a Codeine 30g, which I accepted.
I didn’t tell him of the near tumble and hassle I’d had – I’m forever relating my accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, lost items and so on to him.Must be a bore, class one to him.
After the lad had gone, I did the safety check around the flat before retiring. Lights off, fridge & freezer doors closed, windows shut. Taps (Faucets) not left running in the kitchen or wetroom, heater not left on in the wetroom, and shower turned off at the plug. And the door was locked.
Fell asleep with relative ease tonight and had a dream, but I cannot recall its theme. Tsk! I slept for 7… I say seven hours!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I used to know what I needed, wanted to do,
Be it involving a romantic rendezvous…
Or to throw a party, dance or a chanoyu,
Buy a Fiat, Skoda, Ford or a Subaru…
I’ve owned each of these in the past, too…
Oh, and of course my 4-wheel drive Diahatsu,
What to cook for my meal, not cordon bleu,
Roast or baked potatoes, or a beef & veg stew?
Or battered Haddock & fishcakes would do,
Buy it on the web, high street or at a vendue?
If it were never-never land, Utopia, or Xanadu,
A cat, a dog, a hamster, a hawk or a sucuruju?
Nowadays, the only thing guaranteed is a snafu! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
10:10hrs Sunday: Forgive the smiling photo of Inchy welcoming you to the blog… I’m so happy at this moment, despite it being Sunday morning and a late start to this catching-up blog. I feel blessed. My best friend is back. The best gift I rarely have nowadays is here with me. No logical reasoning why; Nothing has changed from yesterday’s gloominess in any way. But I woke up with Horis, and he’s still with me. I just love the ‘Sod-’em-all’ attitude Horis brings me. I can’t get into this mode myself, but surely Horis is myself in a warped way, must have assisted me to get in this blissful, albeit liable to dissipate as unexpectedly as he arrived. But why can’t I bring it on when needed? I’ve no control of it at all… well, maybe I could learn some Wicker-Tricks. I’m so far behind with the blog, it hurts. Got the new medical procedures to be monitored by a Carer. The bloody shaving, shower, and medications cost me over two hours. Teeth & gums bleeding. New growths on the leg. I’m baffled as to why I feel like this, yet bloody glad I do! I’m writing this now because I might forget to add it later.
The computer went down. I’ll add this to Sunday’s blog if I ever get it started. Got to finish this one before it freezes on me again. Using snaps to save time, sorry for the lack of or poor details. Farewell sweet .
Health Checks were monitored by Carer Nimra. BP High again!
Dry crinkly skin
Iceland Food!
Amazing evening sky
Amazing evening meal!
At last, I cooked some cheesy baked potatoes that came out just as I like them. Gorgeous!
Have to stop here, keyboard problems now.
Spent three hours trying to get the computer to work, but I wasn’t typing well. The mouse was super sticky, so I changed batteries in both the mouse and keyboard. All closed and off, left it for an hour. Retried while Carer Miarza was visiting. Working in a fashion. At least temporarily. Don’t be surprised if this is the end of Inchie. Can’t cope.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 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.
