I’d like to report that things were very much better today. But I can’t! The agony of worries over the shortages of medications and the tube chaffing from tube; many other things, but the main one was , who was winning the battle with never having been so bad. , & ensured that my vision was crap and getting worse. Plus, so many hours were spent correcting mistakes. Just thought I’d mention it.
As usual for the last two weeks, frustratingly, there was no night-bag to change. This mystery of the medication’s non-arrival, and unattainable night catcher bags, is the reason for the pain I’m suffering. The night bag gave the day bag a refresh, which I believe helped clear the infection from the bladder. The mega-high Blood Pressure and the darkening urine since these things stopped coming to indicate this to me. But I’m powerless to do anything about them. No District nurse calling; new medications, along with last months medication, supposedly waiting for collection at the pharmacy. No DVT or
Phlebotomy nurse called in weeks now? I’m in bad pain through the lack of tablets. Doreen’s Dementia is affecting my responses. The eyes are making everyday tasks harder and full of accidents and mistakes. Oh, dear! Just thought I’d mention it. Not that it helps, of course.
Fancy that! But it lightened later.
But the blood pressure was horrendous! I did extra checks in the hope that it would come down, but… Nope! Wonder if this is due to the none attainment of, and running out of some medications?
Oh the bright side (I had to look very hard, Hehe!), the ankle ulcers were nice and calm. (Says Inchie as he gets grief from the catheter tube via Little Inchie and cleans the blood up changers protection pants, . Then get more stabbings from .
A bad day all round today. Window-Man Joe called to do them. I was out of it most of the time with taking so many painkillers, I think. No idea what had happened for several hours. I keep mentioning the pain I was in to each Carer. At least, I think I must have.
Got the meal served up early, I gave up trying to concentrate on the computer. Cooked the meal without any damage. Hehe!
Sat watching TV with subtitles and devouring the pleasantly tasty meal I’d done for myself. Pretend meat (Very nice), beetroot, tomatoes, and potato cubes done in the oven after being sprayed with oil. Carer Josef arrived mid-feast. Can’t recall what happened, he was soon off, as there was no night bag to change, and I’d already taken the painkillers & Peptac. Nice lad.
Do you know… are you listening?
There were times today; I’m not kidding…
When I almost knew what I was doing!
Twelve goes at the Catheter irrigating,
There must be summat else, it’s irritating…
So much I keep on forgetting,
Doreen Dementia’s inquinating…
My memory, she’s masticating…
The Doctor’s ready for cognoscing,
My concentration is cadencing,
I await good luck commencing,
My brain is beyond assubjugating.
I suppose all this should be heartbreaking?
But a chance of some little ameliorating…
I’ve got cheesy potatoes in the oven baking!
I can smell the cheese as it’s melting…
I bet this is going to taste belting!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
20:15hrs now. Another day flashes by. What I’ve done and why. Who’s been to see me? Can’t remember, can’t decree… Been a sad muddled day for me! So, some photos you can see, Feeling so confused, I could cry!
First Pouch emptying…
Before the mist descended.
Food order. Some treats for the Carers.
One of the afternoon pouch emptying. Amazing colour, healthy looking!
Nice parking today!
Mug of Glengettie, note-less notepad, and a nose bleed.
Blimus! This one filled up quickly.
Late Carer Josef called. Only needed some painkillers to ease the mild agony from the Catheter bag tube in Little Inchy. Argh!
The plan was to show a photo of the served-up nosh here. However: The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry!
No matter how carefully a project is planned, something may still go wrong with it. The saying is adapted from a line in “To a Mouse” by Robert Burns: “The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men / Gang aft a-gley.” Yes, Inchie forgot to put the SD card back in the camera again! So the evening shot and shot of the TV on, also, as Rabbi Burns said… “Gang aft a-gley “.
When I emptied night pouch, I did remember to put the car in first. Tsk!
Not a good colour.
When I was nodding off, I needed to utilise the. again. The visit took me half an hour or so overall. Sticky, gooey, messy. The actual evacuation maybe lasted a minute. The cleaning up & medicating… ages! Costly business nowadays. Last year the above cost me £2.19 – Now… £4.99! But it does a good job of easing .
On that rather sordid note, I’ll leave you now. (Fri Morning) And get this blog checked. (I’m bound to miss some mistakes, of course, I’m getting good at that recently) and sent off to WordPress.
It’s been an… erm, er… well. an interesting month so far. I’ve been given a rubber wristlet for DNR (Do Not Resuscitate). A Diabetes rubber wristlet. These will decorate my wrists along with the On Warfarin, Allergic To Clopidogrel, Hard of Hearing, and the new last week, Dementia alert bands. The Cataract – Vision – Impaired one has not arrived yet. I’ve checked the box of the options on the Doctor’s letter. In answer to the Question: Where Would You Like To Die, at Home or in a Hospital?
Now after the initial rushing me into the hospital when I woke up with blood coming from Little Inchie and the Haemorrhoid-ridden rear end. I think this was four weeks ago. The Paramedics took to the QMC, A&E.
Where the medicos must have forced two gallons of warm water down my throat to get the wee-wee flowing through Little Inchy, as opposed to Catheter Cathy’s Contraption. I had the catheter put in and taken out about six times, which for me with Phimosis and the Fungal Lesion – not to mention having the smallest willy I’ve ever seen (I’ve seen ten-year-olds with a bigger one than I). This is why the in and the outing of the tube were so painful for me. And it really was testing my pain limit… mind you, it still is at this very moment. I was on the computer and listening to the new tenant’s TV blasting away upstairs. (I assume. He or she might be getting the flat sorted, which accounts for the occasional clunks and thuds. Herbert Mark Two? Haha!
No problem, though; I’ll get used to it. Just take out the hearing aids. They did bladder scans, and some on a big machine. But gave up and sent me to the City Hospital Urology Department. Patience Ward Two.
Where Patience was at a premium. Urology was just as baffled as the QMC staff were. They had the catheter in and out over the next day, at least eight times; despite gulping down at least two gallons of water, getting to use Little Inchie for wee-weeing was a failure. They (Urology) summoned me back to have a… I’ve forgotten what it was called now.
Ah, I’ve got it now (just looked it up on the Internet). A Cystoscopy, a CT scan of the urinary tract, and a urine culture. Still, no reason was found, so the catheter has now been on for about 4-5 weeks. The walk to the Doctor, half a mile at most, took me nearly two hours! I had to keep stopping cause the pain was so bad. I got the surgery, told the Doctor, and hose said: “Talk to Urology”. It’s great to be so cared for, innit? Anyway, since the tumble I had getting on the trolly at the hospital, week one: I had another fall. Week two: two Accifauxpas. Week three: Just the one; it wasn’t a bad one. Week four: Three tumbles, and two, one seriously, walking-into-solid-objects. The wet room door, and then the junk room door frame. Which started and produced a , that had me over – but I fell on the two bags of laundry that has not been collected. I’m glad they were days late now. Hehehe! Today, the wee-wee into the bags seemed a little better. I reckon I’ve emptied the around ten times! And the blood in it was far less than yesterday’s was. Is there a light at the end of the tunnel? Maybe… perhaps! The attaching did not take place. No Carer arrived to attach it for me. I believe they were struggling with staffing problems and possibly the hospitalisationing of another tenant. No bother, I kept waking up overnight anyway, and I remembered to check the small day bag each time. Emptied it three times. No sweat!
With all the nocturnal activities of emptying the pouch, I didn’t get up until 07:30hrs. Little sluggard! The was at bursting point, I managed to get it emptied before any disaster!
arrived as I was making a brew. Got the medications sorted, and he helped me ready the bin bags for him to take. Said how busy he was.Thanked him profusely.
I left the hot water tap running again!
The pain from Little Inchie was still bad and stayed that way all day & night. and cobblers!
thenCame at teatime.
Late morning view.
and later came.
Mid-Morning views. A lot of white cars?
Catheter emptying. Nice and like colour this moring.
Magnificent Sunsetting this evening!
Catheter is ready for emptying. Is that a twinge of blood in there, I see?
Sunset bying down… Eerie colours changing… Still beautiful… A minute later, the last blast from the dying sun…
Looks like a two-tone of blood in the Catheter… That’s a better piccy. But look at the blood in it!!! Argh!
Started emptying it – rich red blood… Looks to be thinning at the end… Almost bubbling now? Can you see a cat’s face in there?
Starting to make the evening Meal and, arrived. He was looking fitter tonight but not a happy laddie. But soon cheered up when he got the new night bags to put on the day pouch. These ones had the plastic grip so you could hang them up. Sorted the medications, and we had a little chinwag. Np putting the world to rights, but we did manage a bit of cheer for each other.
When the night bag was on, the blood started to flow in dribs and drabs. But, oh so slowly. The long extension tube often stops the flow, and I feel the build-up in my bladder, and have to shake the blood through.
Richard showed me how to use the Air-Fryer, and he put some alphabet potato letters in it and left to get on with his other jobs.
Fifteen minutes later, the fryer gave out a ping that, luckily, I was in the kitchen to hear. What an alarm timer with one ping, and that was my lot! The potato letters tasted great, all crispy on the outside. The spuds I did in the slow cooker. The tomatoes were just about acceptable tastewise (Italian, not good this time of year). And the ersatz mini-franks were surprisingly excellent! Soya based methinks
03:30hrs: Stirred, passing wind, and rose from the £300, bought eight years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly beige-coloured, crumb containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner; caught my balance, and off to the wet room, taking the extremely full looking NWWB (Nocturnal-Wee-Wee-Bucket) with me for emptying and sanitising. Not an easy job when using the four-pronged Metal Mickey stick.
Not much to report today. It took me that long to get the things above done; it was almost tea-time by the time I got this part tackled – with few notes on the pad as well, as well.
Took a photo.
Got on with the updating of yesterday’s blog: a few more hours lost.
Pinterested some photos.
Makes a double cock-up of great magnitude on WordPress.
I sent the template to the bin in error for updating.
Somehow or other, I got it back.
About ten minutes later… I did it again. But could I work out how I got the other one back? No!
I toyed with risky actions taken, in hopes that were what I did earlier… but, No!
I then lost the template altogether!
Started again from scratch!
Then, as if you didn’t expect it:
Then arrived, looking weary after his four-day shift. I didn’t want to delay him; I was his last call.
Got the medications sorted and had a mini-waffling session.
Bade him farewell, wish Bing him a good rest.
It was all computing then when it came back on for many hours.
arrived in a hurry.
More computing… well. more correcting and putting right mistakes than actual typing! Humph!
My Concentration was Zero at times. The mind is wandering… not a good sensation.
The Health Check did the taps, and oven checks gave me an extra Paracetomal. I asked him to help get my socks off and told him not to wear them again… Hehehe! Joking!
Tended to the Ablutionalisationings duties next.
An amazingly good session.
Back to the computer. Got the fodder in the oven on a low light and pressed on with this blog.
Make a meal, and back to the Porcelain Throne. This session was not so good, but I’ve had worse… Oh, the stink!
Turned off the computer.
Checked the nosh, and it looked ready.
Took a photo of it. never to be seen again… off into the ether it went. Huh!
Arrived and woke me up.
Got the meads sorted and had a mini-natter, taking the waste bag with him as he departed.
06:00hrs: I looked at the clock and realised I didn’t want a wee-wee – this is the first day’s awakening for months that I didn’t want a pee on stirring back into resat life! All very confusing! Nonplussing!
started to kick off straight away, might be the late medications yesterday? But she’s been much worse, only short stabbing pains at the moment. It does not last for long, with plenty of breaks in between.
I rose from the £300, bought nine years ago from the second-hand shop, Harold Haemorrhoid testing, repugnantly, sickeningly beige-coloured, many crumb-containing, virus-breeding, acne-giving, rickety, none-working recliner, caught my balance, grabbed 4-pronged Metal Micky, and off to checks the taps and get the kettle on for a brew.
I tried to get some decent photographs of the pretty morning view. I don’t think I id too well, do you? Haha!
Housewife Mode-Engaged! I set to getting the waste badges sorted out. Cleaned the sink area… well, tidied it up a bit, then! Got some more paper towels out to use and made a brew of Glengettie tea. Took the mug to the computer and checked for any messages or comments that may have come in from my hundreds of blog fans throughout the world. I answered them both.
During this, I kept hearing the oddest noises and thought it might be someone knocking on the door. I should have known, of course – it was the Herbert in the flat above giving me a concert of tap-tapping, knock-knocking with the odd loud crunching sound thrown in for good measure. I have to put up with this noise every single day, and at the weekend, it gets even worse. Still, no hard feelings, after all, as the Nottingham City Homes manager said to me: “He’s a wonderful man and makes steam engines for the school…” Nuff said. That was seven years of noisy hell ago. I wish him no harm, do not place curses on him, refuse to give him a neck-chop when I get near enough to him, swear about him, or hate him… just the noise he makes so regularly. I hope whatever it is he’s making comes out well. And the children, he seems to like, enjoy them.
As I moved on to updating the Inchie Today for yesterday, I heard a noise that sounded to my ears like firecrackers; it kept on for a few minutes, and I just had to have a look around in case someone was at the door or something may have fallen over. I had a momentary vision of an alien sliming along into Do-No-Wrong, noisy, snotty Herbert’s flat and slowly eating him alive. This cheered me up a bit; no harm in having a dream? Naturally, the noise was coming from the flat above. He got but more violent with it this time. Thuds bangs, and somehow, with tap-tapping in the background this time. Damned clever chap! I gave a tap or two with Metal-Micky’s handle on the high bookcase in return. He just carried on.
announced the arrival of . He got the medications sorted alright, and we had a little chat. He checked the taps and cooker on his way out with the waste bags for me. Nice lad!
I made up a bottle of spring water and added some lime juice, went to put it in the cubby-hole on the Hopewell’s 1963-built, falling to pieces, E-Plan Sideboard. Where I espied the Carers & Nurses Christmas bottle for them to choose. I must remember to ask a carer if there are any more names to go down.
The unfriendly, bumptious, toffee-nosed, self-important, snotty-nosed, condescending, sanctimonious animal in the flat above has never been as persistently noisy as he is today. If I meet up with him, he could just be ready for a fall! I am not a violent person, but many years of putting up with this protected by the Council Management turd; is getting to me now!
There will be a clash coming unless he cuts down on the banging about soon! The pococurante, dismissive, disrespectful, git… will no doubt lose out in any conflict, despite his grandeur and overconfidence, and I will end up in prison… the Prison Hospital, I hope. Then I might get the Dementia, DVT vein, and Cataracts seen too? And a new PC to work on? Be fed meals? Sounds good to me. Sorry Herbert, this is your last warning! (It’s not really; he’s in no danger from me).
Arrived to do a quick check-up and Client Review. And during the questioning and answering session, witnessed the noise that I was suffering from the flat above! As for myself, I can never tell if it’s him or someone banging on the door! I explained this to Kara. This is why I do not wear the hearing-aids when in the flat. Unfortunately, I can’t hear the fire alarm either, then.
But it doesn’t matter as long as Herbert can get away with such antisocial behaviour and him being immune from doing any wrong… the nasty, noisy bully.
Now then, can I remember the recipe from Grandma Griselda? Toad’s legs curdled with the blood of a Vampire, 2oz of Basil, 1 litre of Double strength bleach, and a tablespoon of TCP. Oh, what were the other ingredients? Eye of a newt and toe of a frog, the Wool of a bat and the tongue of a dog…
No, hang on… Am I getting mixed up with Macbeth? Hehehe!
At last, a decent mug of Thompson’s Punjana and three biscuits to dunk in it. By gum, this is a good life!
Arrived, and he got me sorted out with the medications. I dropped one… Fool? Me? Yes! We couldn’t find it, but worked out it was a Codeine 30g, and although we were low on many tablets, plenty of them remained, so he gave me another one.
That git upstairs is driving me mad with the tapping and knocking.
It’s not doing my health or temper any good! It won’t do him a lot of good when I meet him again!The ignorant &^%stard!
I foolishly went on Amazon to see if they had any small Air-Fryers on offer – and ended up ordering one. There’s no stopping my sinking bank balance or stupidity!
I went to get the kettle on again and took these photographs of the front car park. The left one to the right, the right one to the left… I think. Hehe!
Then Spend-the-lot Inchie actually went back onto Amazon and ordered a new keyboard. I’ve got to stop doing this!
I am so angry with myself – I could almost cry!
What the hell is the matter with me?
No need to answer that, folks; I’ve a sneaky feeling that I know, but not keen on admitting it, if you know what I mean… which is probably more than I know!
Nearly 18:00hrs and the Perfect-One, protected and adored by the management of Nottingham City Homes, is off again with his banging away! With any luck, he’ll have a heart attack before I see him again and save me from getting arrested for GBH. It’s a living hell! But I don’t truly mind a single bit. It’s all said in fun…
Oh! I’ve done the . I’d better get them done then…
Dang and bother and . I’m back in the Hypertension Red-1 zone again. Think I got spoilt with two days in the HIGH-NORMAL Pink. Hehe! Still, it’s been worse.
I was making slow headway with this blog, but better than none. Meant another long day for this old man. Hey-Ho!
Not has anything to eat yer, apart from three biscuits. I went into the kitchen to get the cooker oven heating up. And I was so glad I did; for the red moon was going down on the horizon; quickly too.
The results were very pleasing for once.
Of course, I forgot all about putting the oven on.
Great balls of fire! He’s off again. A mechanical concert of bangs, tap-tapping and the odd clunk in between!
I went back to the computer and realised I was missing my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on TV channel 10. Did some more updating of this blog while half-listening to Heartbeat… I don’t put it on loud cause being a much better and less snotty A-hole than, let’s say, Fart-Breath, living above, and I don’t like to make noise and disturb my neighbours. Grumph!
An hour or so after taking the photos of the sunsetting, I then noted that I had not put the oven on after all. So I did.
It wasn’t really a depression I’d sunk into; more a moment of self-disgust and or loathing… no, it was depression. Tsk!
Got the nosh sorted out, well-gone 20:00hrs now… Oh, no, gone 21:00hrs! At last, the noise from above had ceased – but I’m anticipating it starting again, like last night at gone 22:00hrs.
NOSH TIME COMETH:
A decent-looking nosh, but unfortunately, the photo and all taken since were recorded on the Lumix without my having a memory card in it. I’d left it on the computer yet again.
Flavour Rating: 8/10.
Woke me; I noted I’d fallen asleep watching Heartbeat; I’m missing more than I had watched lately. Thanks to turd-face up above, wearing me down with all his bashing and banging about, I’m so tired. Jo-Anne got the medications sorted as I was about to eat the meal. Left a pot of Lumix for me to take after the meal. We had a natter and insisted she selected her choice of thank you drink. Went with her to lock the door, and she took the waste bag with her to the chute on her way out.
Woke at 07:20ish hrs: After what must have been one of the worst nights ever, for the repetitive nodding-off and jarringly springing waking again, minutes later! Pains from and the bladder side of the stomach. This had me a smidgeon worried! announced the arrival of , who seemed up for it, until the yawning began. He’s struggling to get sleep the same as I am. poor lad. Richard got the medications given and went to check the non-prescription drawer for out-of-date products. Which resulted in two, I say two 15l carrier bags of stuff to throw away! He’s a good lad to me! I had to nip into the wet room for the third wee-wee of the morning. The precious ones were flowing decently; this one was back to having to force things out and getting only a sprinkling… but this time with a difference. The stink was the worst I’ve ever smelt in 76 years of weeing! It was repugnant! Not that I understand much about it, but I got the idea that now the flowing was starting again, the old stored liquid in the bladder may have been being forced out? I mentioned it to Richard, who smiled and said I know. I smelt it and heard you cursing about it, talking to yourself! It really annoyed you didn’t it? I’ve never heard you swear so much! He was spot-on the button with his comment. Hehe! I really thought the urine infection was on its way back. Richard departed with the two bags of out-of-date medications and two bags of general waste with him for me. Richard even made me a brew of tea! He may call on me for the late check visit but was not sure. I hope he does, he always does his best to cheer me up and have a smile or two, and that’s precious! However tired he is.
As I got back to get the spud in the slow cooker, Herbert, my noisy neighbour above, started his bang-banging. I wonder what he’s making today?
I got to drinking the mug of tea that Richard made for me and gave me a good shake. Thus I spilt the mug of tea… she’s been so kind lately as well, but she caught me out this time. I swore, cleaned up the mess and made another one. I took these shots of the view from the kitchen window while waiting for the kettle to boil again.
The top one had the moon just disappearing from view on the horizon. Why it came out so dark. I know not.
The second one was a mystery to me? How that one came out so light is another mystery to me!.
The third one came put as it looked to the eyes. The bottom field with the housing at the back, no wonder the frost, according to the computer, was -2°c!
The last one was another disappointment. I tried to brighten it a bit, but I ended up with a white sky, and still, the houses were unclear? .
started off next. But this didn’t bother me too much because the pains from the bladder seemed to be lessening. What’s going on in there?
Herbert went into another bout of almost musical banging about. I think he dropped a sledgehammer at one time. Hope he’s not injured himself at all.
It took me a long time, but I got the Tuesday blog updated and sent off to WordPress. Then, during an hours-worth run of wee-wee taking, I got the Pinteresting of some photos done.
WordPress Template preparing next. That went well. Then made a start on this blog.
arrived but did not press the door chime. I pointed this out to him, and we had a laugh about it. Made my point that I could have been using the bucket and needed to know when someone was about to come in to give myself time to shout not to come in yet. Still, a nice lad. We had a little natter and a laugh.
Ah, well, back up to Stage Two Red Hypertension again. Can’t win ’em all, can you? Well, I can’t. Hehe! It’ll be lower tomorrow, just you see! EQ told me, that he is rarely wrong.
Was getting noisy again. This time I replied with a clout of two of my own on the top of the high bookcase, but only the same amount of bangs and thuds that he’s sent down to me over the next few minutes. Not that it stopped his banging about, of course. Thud, clunk…
announced the arrival of . She told me the fire alarm was going off, but I could not hear it in the flat.
She issued the medications, and I asked her to check the taps for me on leaving. But I wouldn’t let her go until she told me the fire alarm had finished.
we took this photo of an engine sown below outside. Others arrived later.
The alarm was still ringing ten minutes later. A live one, mayhap, this time?
Carolynne and I went out into the flats’ lobby. I could hear the alarm going out there. I opened the door a bit, and both of us could smell burning!
I told her to come back into the flat until the alarm stopped. Which she did.
As we were both coming in, she said the alarm had stopped. Off she went. I hope the lifts were working again for her; I imagine they would have been turned back on now the alarm had stopped.
The temperature now showing is minus 1°c. I wonder why it keeps changing from Celsius to Fahrenheit? Hello, it’s just changed to a snow warning icon?
There’s scum, and there is Scum. The lousy inhuman SCUM that can do this without checking or getting help, should be hung!Then again, I truly think that Parole Board members who free convicted killers to kill again should be hung as well.
I wonder what the shitbag’s reasons were? In a stolen car? No insurance? No licence? Wanted on a warrant? Drink driving? Or maybe all of these things.
I bet the judge lets them off with a dangerous driving charge.
Some smart-arsed lawyer will earn his money defending them and conning the condemnable judges in which we are supposed to have faith and belief. Until your daughter is killed by them again, as the overpaid pathetic Parole Board sets them free early on licence… Grrr!
Better get something to eat, then. Oh, I’ll check to see if any new figures have come through for Covid for Nottingham first. Aha, got to these numbers through the Nottingham Evening Post’s links. Not sure of the period it covers, but is the latest one on it.
Hello, hello, hello!
and . Is this not a Boll-Weevil I have on my finger?
Gawd Blimey, please say no; I don’t want an infestation of them again!
This one was on the draining board in the kitchen. I shall keep my eyes peeled while making the meal for any more of the little blighters! Oh, please, no!
Oh, heck, I missed these pictures I took during the day.
The top one looks like late afternoon.
The middle one this morning?
Well, I think it was. Maybe, perhaps, possibly, mayhaps, presumably. in all likelihood and possibility, taking all things into consideration, it’s likely that I may be right or wrong…
The evening and last one, I think I took whilst (I’m almost sure) was here with the fire engine viewing.
Of course, it could have been anytime, really.
This time, I must get the food prepped. A simple fayre for a simpleton fella! Cottage pie, the slow-cooker cooked for wight-hours big potato, with liquid smoke added to the spud, and BBQ sauce to the cottage pie. I don’t ask a lot... I don’t get much, either. Hahaha! But I did enjoy this dishful and the following Vegan Soya lemon yoghourts.
I then launched into mission-impossible mode! Trying to get to sleep and stay asleep. It was a bridge too far, an extremely difficult, nay, impossible, unattainable, forlorn, unexcogitable, hopeless task! I got the pots washed, and checks were done.
Within minutes of getting settled in the £300, used, second-hand shop bought nine years ago, c1966, discomfiting, alarmingly Kari-beige coloured, crumb containing, TV remote hiding, not working recliner, I floated off into what I thought was going to be, a deep sleep.
A few minutes later, I woke up calmly. (No jerking a jumping at all!) That was the end of my kipping!
My body was telling me I needed sleep. But, it was not to be.
I even put the TV on in hopes of the averts helping me to drop off. It didn’t help! I lay there hoping, praying and swearing to myself, for Gawd knows how many hours. Then around 07:10hrs in the morning, rang out and almost reluctantly, I limped to the door to let in.
05:20Hrs: I woke up with the guilt of poor Carer Richard going with me today to the Hospital. It makes sense, I know; he is the only person on this planet that can answer the questions the nurse will ask. He was so kind to offer to go. Especially after he’s just finishing four tours of duty. But I know how tired the lad can get without this extra, but that’s Richard for you. Not that any of this assuages my feelings of putting on him. After stewing in my guilt and appreciation for a few minutes, I decided to get my lumbering-elephantine body out of the recliner and get the ablutionalisationing done straight away. That was the plan!
Scenario: Dark, no RV or computer on, but a strange light from the kitchen was clearly visible, even to me, as I approached the open room door… Dang, Dang… Dang-Dang! As I looked to my right into the kitchenette, a narrow red-yellow light beam hit me from within the room! To all intents and purposes, it was a single eye, located head-height and piercing. It was completely dark otherwise. That must have helped with the illusion, too).
I suppose I had some help in getting confused from my ailments,, and , and getting misled.
For a second or so, I believed there was a possibility of a one-eyed intruder standing in the kitchen. “Go on, have a laugh” Hehehe! I did after I got the light on.
At that moment, it reminded me of a science fiction film of old, I forget the title. An alien who had a giant robot to protect him? Not that it would have fitted into my kitchenette anyway, but it did cast a deadly ray of the same colour that disintegrated tanks in New York. Did somebody Renee or Rennie star in it?
Anyway, as I got the light switched on, I realised that it was from the fridge door that I’d left open last night.
I’d stacked some food around it (the fridge light), including a pot of orange and raspberry-flavoured jelly. The light was altered into a beam as it went through… I did feel like a fool. Nothing new there, then!
The first noticeable thing was as I was going to get my feet into the bowl. It was amazing how the left leg was tiny-thin compared to the right one? A different colour too? Erm?
Apart from losing ten minutes searching for the toothbrush (it was underneath the trolley), a couple of hardly worth-mentioning shaving cuts, and a door shoulder charge on leaving the room. All went well. Even the getting the socks on and medicationalisationing.
I worked it out so that I might just have time to get the Wednesday blog finished (not a lot to do on it) before I needed to get the things sorted out for today’s visit to the Coppice Hospital. And yes, I even got that done as well!
So, a scare of sorts; that turned out to be a humorous incident. Great ablution session and the best bash on the blog I’ve had for months? A phenomenal start to the day!
THE TRIP TO THE COPPICE HOSPITAL
Arrived, having just completed his fourth tour of duty. Instantly my guilt returned.
It was a weird sensation; I was so pleased to see him, shook him by the hand… But the lad looked like he was on his last legs.
Not that it stopped him from launching into helpful advice and checking that I was getting the right things ready to take with us. Richard rang for a taxi.
I did nearly forget the reading glasses but remembered as we were at the point of leaving. I went to get to them.
Richard had already made the checks on taps etc., so the didn’t get a chance to get me going.
We were down in the lobby in plenty of time. The taxi arrived minutes later.
The taxi driver, like so many of them, took shortcuts through the estates. It seemed to my , that all the roads and streets had speed bumps on them! One of the worst, well not worst, but most painful taxi rides ever. I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than poor SOSTH!
We arrived at the right place on the grounds, and I was helped out of the taxi. They retrieved the three-wheeler from the boot for me, and I felt well looked after. Bloody hurting in the SOSTH testicle area, though! Hahaha!
Instinct, I think, led Richard to lead me around some buildings to the required door, finding it the first time. Thank you, Richard!
Really good that Richard was there; we had to use an intercom thing to get in. Well, Richard did. It was not a long wait after Richard had logged us in with the receptionist, and the Memory Nurse fetched and led us to the office we needed, hers. A lovely nurse.
We went through the usual memory test. I think I did better than the last time at the surgery. The normal questions and a draw-a-clock routine. Then some history, then medical questions.
A session of questioning Richard. I couldn’t hear them, unfortunately.
The nurse said I did well. (Which was worrying at the time cause I do need help!) She is going to give me a brain scan… now at this point, I had one of my blank moments and what she was saying did not get through properly. But I thought it did, now I cannot remember the details of what she had said. She might have given me a date of the first scan… maybe, but surely I’d have written it down if she had? February rings a bell in there somewhere. Mayhaps the first scan, then a second to see the changes in the brain? Oh, dear, Richard will know. I hope.
Why I didn’t say something at the time beats me.
But poor Richard was really in need of some rest by them. And we were soon told we could go. Which was a blessing for my mate Richard.
The receptionist called a taxi for us. We were soon on the way back here.
This taxi driver took a similar speed-bump route back but quicker driving, which entailed some cruel en route.
Back at the flats, all Richard wanted was to get home. And I don’t blame him one bit. I told him I had some of his favourite burgers in the fridge for him, but he was so tired he just wanted to go home. I pointed out that when he gets home, these burgers will only take two minutes in the microwave… He changed his mind and tool them. So hope he enjoys them, but he’ll probably fall asleep eating them.
Thanks again, mate.
When Richard had departed, I had a feeling of aloneness, not loneliness. If you know what I mean?
The WC was used and then photographed. Funny how you miss things when you go out, innit? Hehehe!
Took a shot of the main room. Otherwise known as ‘The Tip’, ‘The Mess’, ‘Rubbish Room’, or ‘Bedroom’, although I don’t have a bed anywhere.
Then the kitchenette. A place of fear, Accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, burnt food, fridge and freezer doors left open, hob and oven left turned on, many trip-overable points, and occasionally a weird one-eyed monster appears in the night.
All a part and parcel of the unaccountable mysteries, phantoms, and haunting of Woodthorpe Court. (It never used to be like this, they told me until I arrived!)
I blame myself, like.
Arrived in good spirits. I asked him to ring EasyLink to arrange a lift if they could for tomorrow to Bulwell. I spent ages getting the details together and readying the calendar… But no chance! They were obviously either fully booked up or out of drivers again. They divert to a message when that happens. I wanted to get some food in.
Still, I’ll not starve, I’m sure. I’ve got a can of gungo beans, some out-of-date butter, manky even further out-of-date burgers in the freezer, and some potatoes that just need de-eying. Haha!
Shaquille departed with his chosen can. After which, I realised he had not issued me with the Peptac medicine.
I pressed on with doing this blog. It was incredibly slow going again. So I decided to get the Health Checks done… and this was the result!
18:00hrs: I put some potatoes in the oven. (After a lot of de-eying and removing green maggots). Then I took this masterpiece of photographicalisational genius of the evening view. from the kitchen window. Well, alright, it might not be that good exactly then... But it’s definitely a little better than my usual crap!
18:40hrs: , a rare but welcome pretty visitor arrived, dead on time too! ♥ She said how much better I looked that last week. She must have called in the middle of the four nights without any sleep and averaging 80 wee-wees per night. Boy, do I appreciate Richard’s care in getting me back to near normal! I hope he can catch up on sleep now. Sinead said she could smell the potatoes when she for out of the lift – not sure if that is good or not? She selected a can of pop and a nibble in thanks and departed. Feel lost again now, Hehehe!
I checked the potatoes in the oven. During a break in ‘Heartbeat’ on the box. Ah, now I know why they smelt so! I’d sprayed them with olive oil and dropped a blob of BBQ sauce in each one. However, at first, I could not understand why, after two hours, they were still not cooked through yet. Eventually, it dawned on me. I’d only set the heat to 150°! Being the intelligent problem-solver I am, I turned it up to 200° and got back to watch my beloved ‘Heartbeat’ on the box.
I then checked the new Meridian Carer roster. It seems I have another caller coming at 21:45hrs ETA. To check that nothing is left on that shouldn’t be, and issue a fourth dose of Peptac. Tonight it says is calling. Another nice gal.