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I have never faced such difficulties in finding words to start an
introduction for the blog before. In a way, I’ve been acting like Jeckle & Hyde and Steptoe & Son, struggling to communicate with myself. My moods were ever-changing, going into reverse modes and back again into sort of semi-contented ones. My fears would rise, and minutes later, nothing mattered. Then, I’d sink back into a self-pity mode again. It has to be a record for me today; I went into so many Mind-Blanks, or maybe they were what the doctor calls them, Non-Epilectic Seizures, I’ve ever had before. Accompanied by Memory blanks, some of them unbelievable, even to me. I had to keep checking what date it was; I forgot if a Carer had been or not. As for where the utilities needed were on CorelDraw, everything was taking me so long and still coming out wrongly. Even doing the graphics for this blog, I saved them all to different folders, and I spent hours trying to trace them, I ended up thinking it would be quicker to do them all again. Which was a big mistake; it wasn’t any quicker at all, the opposite, in fact! Up until around 19:00 hrs, the day seemed to reek of the absurd, bizarre, inexplicable, unexplainable, asinine, and undefinable. When I realised my cock-up with saving the files in the middle of trying to sort them out… CorelDraw Crashed! And all these farces to both legs being so painful, Cartilage Chloe in the left, and the ankle ulcer now pouring out liquid from when I dropped the oven tray on it, this was not a good day. After many trials and tribulations, I finally
got around to doing my ablutions. Apart from not being able to stop the bleeding, shaving cuts (4). After completing the ablutions and medication duties, the only nasty bit was when I was trying to get the Protection Pants on. With both legs in a delicate situation, I lost my balance a few times and acquired some new bruises on the left leg, the cheek, and the right knuckles. But I didn’t go over; I hit the shower chair, door and sink instead.
Now, this does not explain how, but I got the dressing gown on and went back to the computer. I was at the stage of starting to write this intro. My mind was blank for a few minutes. Then it was as if I’d taken a wonder drug, and the mind seemed to clear. This (having read it now) I think it reads spot on as to what happened. Of course, things have been changing all day, so I hope to keep at it before the dark, dank depression develops. And another miracle, as of this time, the double vision had started earlier than this each day for a week or more, but not today. Not that I’m missing them… this may be a part of my sudden enlivenment? Or not. I do so wish the doctor would read my blog… maybe not, though. She might have me collected by the men in white coats. The only other thing that got to me was Kodak Tim blanks. I’ll explain this later in the blog. I don’t want to upset myself now I’m feeling better.
Huh, did I speak again! The bloody leg and
have just started! And they are really giving the damaged ulcer what for! Big mouth! Really struggling to walk now, See what I mean? Up& Down!
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05:10hrs: I sprang awake. In need of the Porcelain Throne. Emptied the catheter pouch and off to the wet room. Where was I flabbergasted to see blood in
the bag? Seconds later, it soon returned to a normal dark colour. This baffled me. I’ll keep my eye on it. If it happens again, I’ll not mess about this time; I’ll call for an ambulance.
There was no real problem with the evacuation, though. It was normal for Trotsky Terence. He’s back with a vengeance. Cleaning up took a while. Carer Maryham arrived and got me sorted out. Bless her. She was just finishing the extra shift she was called in for. I hope she can get some rest now after helping out. It’s been a blessing this week when she’s called.
I was committed to finishing yesterday’s blog and made an early start. I’ve explained my situation. Things just got more messy as the day went on. Carer Joanne did the midday call. I like her—she’s straight-natured and not pushy. We sure do have some good laughs with language. Hehehe!
It was well into the afternoon before I completed the Saturday blog. I posted it and emailed the links. Took this snap of the view on offer. Kodak worked!
After hours of preparing the graphics for today, I felt a little proud of how well I was doing, but then I found the mess I’d made when saving the files. I’d been working on a caveman graphic and was so glad this one wasn’t lost. I plan to do more on it and make a few changes.
The teatime Caregiver arrived. I don’t know his name unless it was Israel. The eyes were beginning to fade a stage and offer double vision. Ah, yes, it was Israel! He’s grown a moustache! I took a snap of him, and later on, it was on the SD card!
Then I took his BP. Resulting in: SYS 119-DIA 132-Pulse 69-Temp35.5°. A good one.
‘Give Me Sunshine’, and out came the sun!
Kodak Tim seemed to have gotten over his tiff for the moment. However, the snaps still have the blotches.
The sun was very high in the sky. (Where else would you expect to find it? Haha!)

One of the shaving cuts didn’t want to stop bleeding. I dolloped on some more of the Brute aftershave. It stung a bit,
but it seems to have stopped now. At least I smelt a bit sweeter afterwards. Hehe!
Carer Richard arrived as I was about to sort the meal out. His back was playing up a bit. I put some drinks in the fridge for him in the morning, which was nice and cool for him.
Preparing the Meal…
I removed the dodgy Asda potato cubes, and got the few left into the oven.
Shelled the pod peas.
I watched some TV, football, I think. Well, it was on when I fell asleep, and another match was on when I woke up.
Luckily, I’d put the oven on too low a heat. So, nothing burnt.
Shortcrust pastry pastie. (Try saying that when you’ve had a few, Hahaha!), fresh pod peas, tomatoes and baked potato
cubes. A Reet Treat!
I got the pots washed, and as I was doing so, I felt a warm,
wet sensation in the lower regions; it
was Little Inchies Fungal Lesion bleeding.
I went to the wet room, washed, and applied the Daktarin. While there, I cleansed the skin and applied the new Barrier cream to the ginormously
flabby, wobbly belly folds and underneath the armpits.
I then needed to utilise the WC. What a flipping change this time! Trotsky was losing his dominance. It’ll be interesting on the morning visit. I decided against taking any anti-diarrhorea capsules.
But did give both of the Cartilages and Arthur Itis knees a good rub-in Of
the Phorpain™ Gel. My rear end was blessedly washed and medicated with the soothing Germoloids™ ointment.
Back to the computer to save everything to date, then put it in sleep mode.
Before climbing into bed… Yes, it’s not easy, but once in and adjusted, Sweet Morpheus is usually satisfied. The nocturnal catheter pouch was positioned, and then the regular frustrating routine began:
Did I turn the taps (faucets) off? And close the fridge door? Turn off the cooker? Close the windows? Leave the lights on? I hate it when this doubting comes! I had no choice but to struggle out of the bed, get upright, carry the night pouch, get the walking stick, and do a mini-tour checking everything was safe and sound.
Then, I struggled again to get into the bed! I reset the nocturnal catheter pouch, and as I settled again, I heard a noise from the kitchen – at least, I think it was
from there. It must have been loud, else I would not have heard it!
: I found that the washing-up bowl I dried after using had slipped off of the trolley I’d left it on. Hitting some spring water bottles on the floor, which had rolled around the kitchenette floor, with one of them bursting open!
Arghhh!
Naturally, to make more mess, it was only the bottle that was carbonated!
So, I ended up retrieving the bottles and bowl and mopping the floor while carrying the Nocturnal catheter pouch, and the walking stick,
gave way while I was doing this! My language was extremely volatile.
It must have taken me two hours to get the kitchen back into a mock-acceptable state. My ingrowing toenails, knees, Harold’s Haemmorhoids, the ankle ulcer, and Little Inchies Fungal Lesion were all hurting.
I did take this Kodak of the night view earlier but forgot to put it on. Sorry about that.
By the time I wearily got back to the bed; then I faced climbing into it again—I was tired out, frustrated, and in a self-hating mode. I decided not to attempt the bed again, and I was convinced something else was going to disturb me, I plopped my rhinoceros-like body into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, cringingly-beige-coloured, much-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner.
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I’d left the small picker-upperer on the chair! I don’t
need to tell you how painful it was or where it struck. On top of all the other ailments playing up after the workout in the kitchen. Once again, it was back to the medicine cabinet in the wet room. Cleaned the rear end up and applied some Daktacort this time.
Back into the c1966, £300 pound, second-hand charity-shop bought, crumb-containing, odour-retaining, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, nauseatingly beige-coloured, non-working, virus-breeding recliner.
Initially,
prevented any thought of getting to sleep. This was probably due to the joy and ebullient nature that
must have been in, after her success at making my life hell! Well, as miserable as she can.
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No. What’s different about her bum?
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Hasta la Vista!
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This shot on the right is of a freshly bathed, medicated, shaved, and totally confused, Mentally disturbed, depressed, discouraged, disheartened, downcast, demoralised, distressed, disconcerted, dimwit, Inchy, with much help from
A glossy hue?
A morning view.
Took an anti diarrhoea capsule.
Later shot from the kitchen.
Carer Maryham.
First of the two mugs allowed.
Afternoon cloud views.
Urine lighter. I wasn’t drinking it, you understand.
I’d just taken the tray of potatoes out of the oven, using the new oven gloves to be on the safe side, of course.
from Cartilage Carole. It rested on the lower shin, long enough to have taken off Vascular Vanessa’s shell and burnt off a patch of skin! I later discovered another burnt finger. (That’s three now this week!) I’m not sure how I got that one.
I had the second and last brew of the day.
An extra competition is called for. This one reminded me of an old black-and-white Police TV series that ran for donkey years, well into colour TV times. Can you guess what it was?
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Today, I have been physically and mentally pilloried, pummelled, and harangued.
The legs were hurting.
Seem to have acquired a dent in the electric shock leg?
Dark and stinky when emptied!
A bloodied evacuation.
Had to sort the boxes that the fodder and Amazon stuff unexpectedly arrived in yesterday. 

Foolishly, I prepared the meal hours and hours too early.
Three deliveries arrived by teatime.
I didn’t!
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I managed to sleep 10 minutes overnight, but I was tired out, and getting up was a fight. The urine in the catheter stunk something awful. I visited the
wet room W.C., which was controlled by Terence Trosky. One after another, each of the almost square-shaped torpedoes got stuck partway to freedom. I thought this evacuation was somewhat incongruous. (is that the right word?) It was certainly incompatible with Harold’s Haemorrhoids. Made them bleed and gave me some discomfort as well. It’s when they get stuck halfway out that’s the worst bit. Haha!
As I was taking this photo, which I put on here, 22hrs later), the door buzzer buzzed. (It does that. I notice these things!), Hehehe!
The Low-Cost Food delivery I’d altered obviously hadn’t been altered because it had just arrived. This was the start of a series of worrying, frustrating,
time-consuming, and unproductive times. It took me ages to unload the boxes and the paper stuffing within them. I topped up the shelves with what had been delivered for the carers and nurses’ drinks and treats. Then, I did the same to the nibbles box on the carers’ table. I got some new lines in today. A white chocolate milky bar was one.
Yet another
A mug ot Thompson’s Punjana tea, that went down well. I was a good lad today, despite the piteousness of my actions and getting things so wrong, and being further behind with the flog that I’ve ever been; and in a cruel depression and so confused, I only had one mug of tea all day and night! Smug-Mode-Engaged!
Tonight’s feast (Albeit while burning my finger again on the oven rack) was prepared. Potato Rostis, battered fishcakes, Fresh pod peas, tomatoes, surimi sticks, and chestnut mushrooms.
I got settled into the £300 second-hand shop bought, c1966. moth-eaten, bedraggled, grotty, smelly, cringingly-beige-coloured, almost-dilapidated, crumb-containing from my nocturnal nibblings, bug-ridden, itch-inspiring, not working recliner. With the meal on a plate and tray, feet up on a chair, and a football match on the box, I’d finished of eating the meal, and then I got the pots washed. I took five snaps over the next half an hour, and only the first and last two made it onto the SD card.
I sense that I may have already used this one?
Believe it or not, but, I didn’t get any sleep again. The Thought Storms, mostly self-lambasting over the dates that I’d mix up.
I got up again to try to get some decent shots of the beautiful night’s view over the next hour or so. I might as well; Sweet Morpheus was not interested, and my mind was going crazy.