– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Or, rather, me forgetting to close it!
This morning, my mind seemed less peripatetic,
Carer Ejaz turned into almost a medic,
Body check, acne & eczema, medications next,
Got a bowl of water to wash, then dried my feet,
It was difficult getting about…
The toes felt as if I had gout,
On the computer, the door chime rang out,
Just, I was emptying the catheter pouch,
Walked in agony, to see who it was…
Window cleaner, to give them a wash,
I explained that I wasn’t feeling up to much,
I said no thanks, & locked him out,
Got back and started the blog layout,
Ten minutes later, or thereabouts,
I felt warm wee-wee coming from the pouch,
As I stood up, the carpet made a squealch…
I’d left the valve open; I went into a panic,
Spent an hour drying it, where I could reach,
The computer? I had to log out…
As I bent to soak the carpet… Ouch!
I banged my head on the corner of the couch!
Carer Joe arrived, and I was very confused,
He took the laundry, and I got more bemused,
Tried to log on with the bank, it refused…
I tried to get it going, things were adjusted,
Our efforts to log in were busted…
Password & log-in, each stayed unaccepted,
Now seizure & Anne Gyna started,
I was getting most aggravated,
Faux pas & frustrations got me agitated,
Then the Physio chap arrived,
Just as I was coming back out of a mini seizure,
I told him of my Accifauxpa & the wet Axminster,
And went back into a partial seizure…
A total blank, the next half-hour,
I think I lost a bit of willpower,
Anne Gyna returned with mental confusion,
Carer Joe updated me on the missed action,
I had trouble remaining focused,
The computer froze, & I became a fatalist…
Turned off the computer, I’d never felt frumpier!
Constantly being got at by Anne Gyna,
My curses and oaths were at their foulest,
Carer Joe called, and I found sudden joyfulness,
Joe moved a plug, Google back on in 2 ticks,
I could have kissed him on his cheeks!
He’d made me a momentary rapturist,
Ridden with bad luck, short of spondulicks,
Worried if the seizures are classed as fits,
My resolution was at its squalidest,
Anne Gyna, Toothache Tiffany & sidekicks,
Depression, frustration put on my shitlist,
Today was my testiest, traumatised & tetchiest,
Made a meal, midnight well past…
Things I couldn’t find, or had lost…
Sharp knife, TV remote, and wristwatch…
Banking details, AA batteries for the clock,
I still can’t get my foot into a slipper or sock…
I’ll always be a failure and a solecist! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A miserable day, as revealed by the Ode above. A chaotic schedule. Seizure and error-ridden. Along with the frustration and depression, I had Anne Gyna back on form. Any one of the Accifauxpas would have been more than enough for me. The seizure, when the man from the NHS Health and Safety came, was almost a blank. But I saw that he had fitted a cushion to the computer chair for me. Thank you! This is the first time I had a seizure when two people were present. Hope I didn’t drop any clangers or say the wrong thing. 🤞🏻
I managed to take a few photos.
On waking. Looking better
Early morning
Later in the day. The feet began to swell.
Very late at night.
Tried to watch some recorded Heartbeat programmes. But got confused or went wrong. It didn’t help me fall asleep and made me feel disoriented each time I struggled and failed to exit the pre-recorded section. Humph!
I gave up anticipating I’d nod off immediately. But, no!
From nowhere, he got stuck in my mind with guilt-trips, shame, patheticness, depression, frustrations and all from years ago, at first anyway.
I clearly recall writing notes which I’m using now.
His digs were getting too close to the present time. This indicated how I am now struggling with everyday, simple daily tasks. It hit home! I think I forced myself awake. (Maybe not?)
Only to have a visit from He’s still with me, on and off this morning.
Life is becoming an albatross around my neck. I’ve never used that phrase before. It fits, though.
Gawd, I’m feeling low! But, thanks to Doctor Vindla, I’ve got my appointment to see a neurologist at the QMC. Unfortunately, it is for November! Hey-Ho!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – May the Force Be With You
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – Jolly Good Day! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My beloved Tree Copse: free of adversity, I used to walk through it, daily, Stopping to talk to a bush or tree… Or a feral rat, a being-walked doggie, Crows, insects, I once saw a garganey, I loved these copse-walks initially, But now I’m not up to it, even weekly, I can see it from the flat’s balcony, But it wrangles me intractably, My health I consider detestationally, I can’t even walk up the entrance pathway, Cartilages, Arthur itis, Peripheral Neuropathy, Glaucoma, Anne Gina, too much you see… I adored getting out & about, naturally, Maybe one day? I’m thinking miraculously… But I won’t, I’ll never have the ability, Bad enough being incapable physically, Reality is harder to cope with mentally, I wonder if the plant life & animals miss me? Bird poo, that dropped on me seemed aimingly! Those crows knew how to poo accurately, Trips & tumbles, bites & stings for free, I miss my daily walks so atrociously, I can’t manage the uphill bit unaidedly, The downhill bit would be just as risky, This ode has brought on a feeling of inefficacy, I still love my Tree Copse, albeit incongruously! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I had a slightly better kip last night. Still broken up, but at least I know why this time. The guilty ailment was chiefly . She was persistent with it. I think I may have had a few nocturnal seizures as well. So many wake-ups, but my response was different for some of them, and it took me a lot longer to get back to sleep after a few of them. There were none of the episodes and a few of the . Did you see that? I was being diagnostic, investigative, and problem-solving, on the verge of being semi-logical in my assessment of the night’s kipping difficulties?
I removed the night bag from the day bag, and bending down, I got a visit from … that was a bad one. In the late afternoon, while on the computer, he called again and was even more effective. I had a good few today.
I perked up a little, made a brew of Glengettie, and turned on the computer to finish Tuesday’s blog. It was a breeze! But it took me five hours due to basic errors a ten-year-old would be proud of.
It looked bleak outside, with a bit of drizzle.I did some hoovering and sorted the waste bins. Then, I felt guilty about the mess in the wet room that still needed to be cleaned, so I went to the wet room. 1
I only mixed up with the gear I just stacked up to make room to do the mopping! I landed on the pile of the shower chair, buckets, mops, bowls and towels, knocking them over and hitting the trolley and the cosmetics, gel, disinfectant, bleach, aftershave, toothbrush, scissors, and some medications. Now I’ve a bruised rib cage.
Miraculously, I didn’t go down to the floor and stayed on top of the rubbish. So, at least I didn’t have to crawl to the junk room on all fours to drag myself back onto my feet! Phew! Thanks lads! 🙏🏼
The Caregiver arrived, Ahram, I think. Or was it Joe? It was almost definitely one or the other. After I got the medications sorted and my socks on, the door chime rang out. It was the Asda delivery. While I was taking in the groceries, I had another of those danged dangerous Whoopsies! 2 My carer Ahram was assisting me to get the groceries in the door, and , gave way and I dropped the walking stick. I slid down with my back against the wall and plumped on a pack of six (approx. 5-inches high) mini-mineral spring water bottles onto my bum. With both knees doubled up, Arthur Itis and the Cartilages were agony!
For more than one reason. Both knees, the cartilages and as I found out later, the bleeding haemorrhoids where I landed on the water bottles!
Both chaps set about getting me up again. I thanked them for being there at the right time to rescue me, get me on my feet, and get me into the chair! Carer
Ahram set to putting the fodder away, so there were no photographs of the food, as there usually would be. When I recovered, I took a snap of the fridge, freezer, and the bladder-demanding water.
The fridge. The freezer. The waters.
I took another kitchen window shot.
The day’s original Beloved Copse shot.
To the left of the window and down a bit. (Do you recall ‘The Golden Shot’?)
The time has flashed by with little getting done other than the blog.
The wetroom is still in a mess.
The Haemorrhoids have stopped bleeding at last.
I think I’ve gained some more bruising on the ribs and back. And for some reason, my top and bottom lips are now bleeding. Huh!
Will I ever again get a decent injury-free day?
Or a night with some unbroken sleep? Silly questions to ask!
A ready-made beef in gravy with colcannon mashed potatoes. I added the last can of minced beef in gravy, carrots, and peas. Added some Marmite to the mixture and stirred it all up. Just four minutes in the microwave & it was ready-to-eat. It tasted superb! It was so good that I didn’t eat any of the bread.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Constipation, Anne Gyna & Seizures, Two tumbles, Trouble w’ catheters, Doreen Dementia, more Accifauxpas, Arthur Itis, Peripheral Neuropathy, Harold’s Haemorrhoids were oozing, Glaucoma Gladys, things hard to see, No time to start feeling lonely, I was never truly alone today!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I could never do a headstand, I’ve never had a house husband, I did once get stuck in the heathlands, Can’t get out now, I’m somewhat housebound, I found a hairband on my hatstand?
I was confused, not worried, I’d taken some tablets that were Cabbinoid, Hehehe! My Carer was jealous and annoyed, No sleep for two days, and I was bed rid? More alarms, something smelt putrid & fetid…
The computer was acting like an invalid, So many problems I was fumid, I’m giving up now; it makes me sick. There must be someone who can help me a bit… I’ve got no teeth left to grit,
On my second night without sleep or rest, Couldn’t sort the computer, tried my absolutist, Anne Gyna was at her painfullest…
Phlegm from the nose and stuck in the chest,
There are little medications left in the medical chest!
Angina tablets for three days at best…
Beta-blockers; the chest is dereft!
Carer Richard is off ill, none ordered from the chemist,
I’ll ask the morning Carer if he or she can assist,
There was a moment. Mayhap the days blessedest…
I dropped the catheter bag and tripped over it…
Fell forwards headfirst down into the WC abyss!
A smug mode, I just had to utilise…
Confused and tired, but I did realise…
I stopped myself from hitting my head and eyes.
The smugness didn’t last for long after the accidents…
The Trotky Terence evacuation was fluid and icterious,
My next problem was a smidge more serious…
I hit the doorframe with Shaking Shoulder Shirley.
And Anne booming Gyna turned on the pain, serious!
To the kitchen, already feeling delirious…
En route, I realised the piles were bloodless…
I soon turned to feeling self-piteous,
I’d left the hot tap running, disastrous!
Cause it had overflowed, The alarm was cacophonous, The phone sounded, and a half-asleep voice asked us… Are you all right? Your kitchen overflow alarm is sounding, I lied, telling her that everything was fine, apologising.
The phlegm in my throat and chest was almost choking, The sore throat hurt so much when coughing, It was even worse when I did any sneezing,
Got the bucket & mop from WR, & started cleaning,
By which it was not so easy, breathing,
To the wet room, the cleaning things returning,
What I saw was almost blood-curdling…
I’d left the washbasin hot tap running!
At least it wasn’t overflowing,
I wondered what the next Fauxpa would be coming!
After that, I, more or less, shattered…
My interest, plans, and hopes no longer mattered,
In search of sleep, I got the bed battered,
Spent an hour getting the up-down positions mastered,
I threw on a giant thick quilt and got under the mattress
Stayed there until the arrival of the DVT INR nurse…
I consider Hristina to be genuinely precious…
She is kind, caring and pulchritudinous, This photo of her on the balcony is priceless to me…
It was framed and sent to me by Cyber-Mate Timothy,
Lovely Hristi, I wandered off-track there, sorry,
Back into the hospital bed, not feeling sleepy…
I covered myself with the giant quilt completely,
I didn’t know it then, but consequently…
Tomorrow morning was to go worse, astoundingly! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This bug is depressing, to say the least,
No sleep, depression, at least at the moment. The seizures seem to have died down a lot.
I’m a little worried about the Anne Gyna medications and others that are about to run out again. Richard’s not coming on Monday was not his fault; the lad’s was so poorly. The stock was not checked, so no order was sent to the doctors for prescriptions from the chemist. There are only three days of Ansoperapol left to treat my Anne Gyna pains. I mentioned this to the late Carer Colin (I think) on Thurs.
I kept trying to catch up on sleep every day, but it failed. I wish I knew why. I have been without shuteye for three days now. Concentration is just a memory. CorelDraw and the computer are playing up, and there is no camera. The Caregiver, who was off for a few days, needed his camera to record the birth of his second child. Hope it all goes well for them. 👍🏼
I still need sleep, but I don’t feel all that tired? This bug is a bugger!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I’m Struggling Here, Midears!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Initially, I loathed and hated our PM, robber Starmer, For stealing fuel help from every pensioner, But I felt a smidge, just an iota, guilty of this later… Although it made OAPs £500 poorer… It got the Unions complaining angrier, It was businesses that gave him his backhanders! An unpopular decision by anyone’s standard, Was it not for Labour that most oldies voted? Keir fears not, as I’ve before quoted… Pensioners, eat or eat, will die, no longer an elector! Come the next election, if alive, they’ll not remember, They’ll be in a home or alone, suffering from Dementia, Deafness, acroanaesthesia, or bradykinesia, Starvation, humiliation or very likely, cryoanesthesia, Blind or with Starmer-pleasing hypomnesia, Frigid, cold, hungry, with herpes zoster,
And thanks to Herr Starmer, cryoanesthesia… Acatamathesia, paramnesia and awaiting euthanasia,
I often muse over why I’m such a tergiversater, A gossip, voluble, so garrulous, a twattler, I only see the Nurse, Carer and or Warder,
So, it’s usually with me, my verbal symposia,
This surely means that I’m my own shillaber?
My own name-caller, hater & reprobater,
No seizures today, but they’ll come later…
How can I hold so many one-man symposia?
To be honest, at the moment, I’m in control titular,
Some ailments are worse, but none in particular…
Oh, yes, there is, Toothache Tiffany, I am a fibber!
I use the toothache spray, at £599 for 100ml,
Still trying to save enough to get a new cooker,
I may not cook chips again, nevermore! A new carer today, Rachel, a good-looker,
I blame Stealer Starmer, and I hate him to my core!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – A better week, apart from the glitches with the urine – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Buggered up the day with them, they quickly came, I wanted to blame whatsitsname… Or maybe even whatsaname, I considered blaming whatshername… But for each one, I was the one to blame. First one, I was cleaning the windowpane… Lost my balance stretching, I gained some pain, Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Next time, sat there, thinking of my old beldame, Stood up & collapsed due to Jelly-Legs-Jane! Crawled to the recliner & got on my feet again, Then, I dropped my written username… I tried bending down again… Landed on my knees, agony more than pain! The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, But doing so was such a strain, Tumbling is easy, like walking in front of a train, The recliner was nearby, I got on my feet again, Then I sat for two hours on the Porcelain!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can’t remember if I put this one in yesterday or when I took it. But I like it, so I’ll possibly be repeating things. A zoomed-in early morning picture of the sun coming up from behind the flats.
This morning’s efforts.
Is my urine going darker again?
Renaurds affected feet and toes. I made a mess of the photo; I assume I’d put the flash on, so it looks weird.
Morning all.
Afternoon-teatime views.
It looked like some clouds were going to land.
Made a meal early today. So I could watch the England ROI footy match on the box. Mature cheese thickly spread sarnies with some Marmite added. Red onions, fish sticks & beetroot. Another pot of Limoncello lusciously licked off of the spoon, Haha!
I added some flavour to the spring water for during the match. And what a score! I added some more alcohol to my bottle of spring water. Hehehe!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Another hazy, confusing day. Constantly fitting between tasks and somehow not getting many finished. I had a few minutes of almost clarity of mind when I was replying to the comments… it was heaven as long as it lasted. But that was it productiveness-wise. I struggled when the Community Rehab & Falls people were doing an update on my condition. I remember a lot, at least I think I do, but so many blanks, and I can’t find the numbers they left to contact them; if I remember anything, I’ve not told them as I fumbled along, losing track of what was going on. Stuttering Stephanie caused embarrassment, and (there’s a word for this, but I can’t recall it) when I used the wrong words a few times when answering their questions. I look up the word again; it is ‘Receptive Aphasia’; I’ve now given this ailment a name, calling her Receptive Aphasia Phyllis.
Confusion reigned, and I was out of it more than in. And, I forgot to record, or can’t find where I wrote it if I did, the time of their next appointment. Humph!
Once again, it’s the next day, and I have only just started on this blog. (Friday 09:30hrs)
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Getting my head down so late in the morning again and Thinking Storming Steven having regular go at my sanity, I was finally settling into a decent period of sleep, and the Carer arrived. (07:15hrs). This I recall. But what happened on the visit, is a mystery to me. I can’t read the scribbled notes about whatever happened, well, the odd word, like, no pouch… waste bags, throne and view. This, I assume, was the view. The first picture on Kodak Tim. Not many were there, with the two-hour-plus visitation from the Falls & Rehab interview. A lot of that I can remember, along with the blanks. Another reversal in style and content from the first failed visit to the Porcelain Throne. Waste bags were sorted out and placed near the doorway into the foyer. I recall seeing Josie’s as was, door and started to worry about her. I’ve found out she is in a care home in Arnold, but not which. I want to visit her, but no one seems to know where she is. Her family have been emptying her flat all week. So sad! I did ask for the carers on each visit to take the laundry down for me. But it’s still there, a bulging bag that is only going to get fullerer! Hahaha!.
Ah, I remember now; the first Carer was Christopher, and he came back later to check I was alright. Apparently, I was ‘Out of it’ and expressing depressional feelings on the first visit. Bless him!
NHS FALLS & REHABILITATION VISIT
Miguel, with Trainee Charlotte from the Falls Team, arrived at the flat, to do an assessment on me. Some of this section may be out of sync or missing altogether due to my FND. Had to put new batteries in the hearing aids, and they are all fine now with the hearing problem. But things being told me were not sinking in, and I was… well, what the word? Disorientated, adrift and losing track of what I was replying to as much as the advice and questions that were coming my way. The medical history was updated. After an hour or so, I was told that an appointment would be made for a visit from a Physiotherapist. Which may be affected by the Physiotherapist’s Strike Action. I’d hoped to get help with the FND symptoms and Cognisant Impairment Iris. They bother me more than anything physical; I know the falls and pains are caused by a combination of Peripheral Neuropathy, Pete, & Receptive Dysphasia Phyllis. I think I mentioned the electric current tingling in the ankles and feet getting worse. If not, I meant to!
Miguel got me to do some exercises with stretching, leg lifting etc. Concentrated on the knees, and Cartilages Chloe and Carole. Carole was far more painful when lifting the right leg. I mentioned that it sometimes the left leg worse, or both of them. He mentioned something at this point, I think, but that has absconded into the grey haze of forgetfulness along with other things. Talking of getting about difficulties, he had me walk around the flat with the trolley. I mentioned , and her wobbly handlebar. Miguel had it sorted in a short time for me; it works fine now. Grrreat! Thanks. Reflux Roger kicked off while we were talking, and Miguel looked very concerned. I’m sure I explained how the problem arose after the Mechanical Aorta Valve operation. Ensuring him that there was only a vague imitational bit of pain each time it blasted out the air through my mouth, and it happens every day or night. The night ones would have woken me up, but with Thought Storming Steve and Shaking Shoulder Shirley, I was usually awake when he hit me, anyway. After they had left, I could not find the contact numbers for them, as I mentioned earlier. Tsk! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
The late afternoon is a mystery to me. I know I was a little peed-off at myself for not recalling or recording matters of the visit and self-loathing at the time, but rather than a Memory Blank this time, it may have been due to Receptive Aphasia Phyllis. As I had not got anything done between drifting off and coming back for about an hour, on the computer. Of course, I may have nodded off in the computer chair?
Can of 3-Bean soup, with a vegetable and tomato sauce. Two cheap but nice Asda baguettes. A pot of 10-calorie strawberry jelly for afters. It tasted lovely, rich, flavourful and most of it was eaten. (I made too much, methinks!)
I thought all that veg might have helped me on the Porcelain Throne Evacuation. It didn’t. This was my third failed attempt today! Hopefully, by the time the food works its way down into the guts, things will improve. Of course, I could be wrong!
How did you do at guessing what the thingamabob was in the photo? Hehehe! Did you spot the face in the foam cleaner? I have to admit, I can’t see it now, but did at the time? No, no, I can see it again now! I took a terribly bad picture of the evening view from the kitchen window. I’m getting good at doing this… something of an expert almost! But I tried one higher up, thinking it would be easier to get a decent-quality shot of the clouds in the night sky. The clouds I saw with my eyes taking this, seem to have melted away? Ah, well!
I clouted my right shoulder against the wet room door. As I checked, I’d not left any taps running. This produced the longest-ever bout come attack from Shirley’s Shaking Shoulder I’ve had for a long time.
Shirley’s shuddering carried on to when I got my head down. Typical, the one night out of the last ten, that Thought Storming Steven was giving me a rest, and Shirley takes up the mantle of keeping me awake!
Unbelievable! I finally nod off in the early hours of the morning, and REflux Roger wakes me up repeatedly with his gigantic emissions of wind! Not that they hurt a lot; they just wake me up with the power of the gastroesophageal emissions. Humph!
To say that I was overly miffed and cursed an awful lot is putting it ridiculously calmly, compared to the anger, frustration, and even a short depression (Which, as you’ll read later, only got worse at the Whoopsies increased in frequency), along with the teeth grinding, which caused my toothache to kick off again and an even more profound than usual belief that is no God, and boy, did bloody well hurt like hell? (Which, after this outburst, may be my next port of call?) I almost cried at my pathetic, endless daily runs of bad luck. (A smidgeon of self-pity crept in there, methinks?) Understandably, in my case. Hehe!
Then, the spraying of the room, cushion and carpet. To try to limit any pong from the escaping urine. Then, I disinfected the well-soaked slippers, double-wrapped them and put them into the waste bag with them. Since having this damned fitted a year ago. that is the fourth pair of slippers I’ve urinated on and had to throw away. I have none left now… well, I have one slipper, and I had to put on an old walking slipper that had escaped the last flood from the catheter pouch eruption. Uncomfortable, odd-looking, and embarrassing, to say the least. Of course, it didn’t bother me. I noticed the valve was closed, so how did the wee-wee go AWOL? A dodgy valve on the Nocturnal pouch? A closer look revealed that the out-spout on the bottom of the pouch was not there! Well, Israel and I didn’t notice its absence. It must have been trickling out and straight onto the carpet all the time I was kipping... luckily that was for only just over three hours.
I am off to the wet room to get the urine pong removals seen, too, and then the task is done. However, despite the innards demanding that I evacuate, nothing, and I gave up and got the feet in a bowl of hot water and washing up liquid, with some baking soda added. Then, while the stinking feet were soaking, I started shaving. Only one tiny razor nick. Then, as I was taking my feet out of the water bowl on the floor… … Gave way as I took out the left foot. What followed was, to me, nigh on a miracle! Going over to my right, I grabbed at the seat-raiser handle… But I had the small towel on there and slipped off… No idea how I managed it, but I reached the far handle, twisted backwards and around, yet stayed on my feet. Fair enough I on the base, yet as I got upright, apart from a little stinging, but not a lot, from , I had no pains that I could sense anywhere else. I think I was so amazed at avoiding going over; it must have confused , & , plus me? I felt better straight away until I resmelt the urine when I went passed the room into the kitchenette. I investigated the condition of last night’s leftovers in the saucepan. Had a spoonful and decided it was not too bad tasting. I’ll have this for my nosh later on. Little did I know at the time it would be 13 hours time before I was around to eat it or what it would taste like by then. Then the pouch was ready for emptying, and me not drinking anything? Still, it’s good that the bladder seems to be working… maybe too well? Have the Finasteride tablets done their job so soon? Have I any prostate left to control things? Is this why the floods took place. Do I want to go to sleep tonight, or stay up watching the nocturnal; pouch? I took this morning’s picture of the blue-hued sky through the kitchenette window. Lovely blue hue! Of to the Porcelain Throne again. This time was a complete reversal of the earlier visit. Gawd, it took me ages to clean up. I’ve never had a messier, stickier, costly toilet roll evacuation in years. Haha!
Took this snap through the balcony doors and windows. Still a pretty blue hue on offer. Put the computer on.
It said it was currently -6°c in Nottingham. But the sun coming up now, and the rooftops were soon clears of the ice and frost. But I could still identify the houses that were most likely to be growing weed in their attics. The ice had cleared on the roofs much quicker than the others had. Note that, I slipped into a Sherlock Holmesian Mode here? Hahaha!. As I made a mug of tea, the door chime rang out its tune.
In came . He was in a good mood, but not about the cold weather, that he’d battled through to get to work, bless him. We decided that we didn’t need to attach any of the usual this morning. Because the legs looked so much better than they have done for weeks. He did put the diabetic socks on for me; I dared not leave them off.
over the next few hours while computing. But I do recall calling. She’d had an emergency to deal with and was running late, so she changed the pouch for me and will do the finances later in the week for me. A help as usual that gal is.
The sun was rising from the left. I took the chance to take this photograph that includes the Nottingham City Hospital in it. Grey and Cream colours to the right. The free-flowing bladder had filled its day pouch again, so off I went to empty it… sounds easy enough, doesn’t it? Oh No! This is Inchy we are talking about! Stubbings number three, this time smack against the , of course, I took it like the heroic brave, courageous man that I am. I barely cried at all. Haha!
I went to make my second mug of J Sainsbury’s extra-strong Red Label tea and spotted some folk out in the cold on the bottom with their dogs. I got heartwarming, jealous and sorry-for-myself feelings all at the same time, watching them for a few minutes. Especially the lady with her two hounds, Little & Large, as they were about to enter the tree copse. And that is something I miss most of the things I am no longer capable of doing. I swear I could smell the distinctive aroma inside the copse, even after two years of absence. Sad!
Back again to the front room and my computerisationing. I took this shot through the balcony from inside. It seemed the darkness was starting to arrive, but the cold sun hid it a bit. Blimus! The bladder is still belting out the urine at a high rate of knots. I wonder if something’s wrong?
I nearly missed the sunset; I was so involved in struggling with the mistakes I was making on the computer. Took this snap and then went back to check on the Odes reading and grammar…
No… rather, a MEGA MONSTER that I’d done was found in CorelDraw. My weariness & tiredness were joined by a rather deeper depression now. Over the last week or so, I’d been making date graphics for the blog in advance and was pathetically a , at how well I thought I was getting on with it. But, No!
I’d made dozens of graphics for each of the coming eight weeks in advance to save time later. A cunning plan, I thought. But, No! Instead of February and March, I’d put the wrong month on every single one of them! And, on many of them, the right month, but the wrong day!
I was caught between the many options to take… Crying again, Swearing, Spitting, Howling, Thumping the wall, Committing suicide, Murdering a Parole Board Member, or Voting Liberal in the next election. I only carried out two of the options… I’ll not say which at this stage. I made do with a long period of . Still got it, actually!
Got some potatoes in the oven to add to yesterday’s leftover homemade soup. I had to sort out a good few pot-marked multi-coloured, spuds first. This one was the oddest, if that’s the right word to use? Then when they were cooked, I added them to the left-over vegetable stew; it smelt rather nice! Mixed them all together in the saucepan to heat up. Took a spoonful or toe to try the taste… good enough for me, but I added a little extra liquid sea salt (anchovies). Took this evening shot of the view from the kitchenette as I cleaned the oven dish and kept stirring the feast of stuff that was in the saucepan. Boy, the day pouch (Well, it wouldn’t be the night one, would it, Hehe!) had filled up quickly again, at the maximum, too, 500ml.
Got the nosh served up. And it was delightful to the palate. A banana and a pot of raspberry jelly for afters rounded the feast off rather nicely! Two enjoyable meals.
I must try to ring the District Nurse place about my day pouch filling so fast and repeatedly. It might be a good sign? But it is filling so fast that I cannot get to the hospital appointments in time before it backs up in the bladder. That’s concerning.
Carer Christopher on the last call. There was nothing to do; no painkillers or Peptac was needed, and the legs were much better. I’ll ask the nurses if I can stop using the ankle & leg straps, I think… providing I remember to ask, naturally. All that he had to do was for the night pouch to be added on to the day bag. I’m praying that it does not leak again tonight straight out the other end and over me and the carpet. PLEASE!
IN ODE I’m no longer educatable!
Incapable of anything analytical,
Even owt logical or rational,.
Or mentally conceptual…
Reality seems more notional?
My brain’s going into neutral…
Not identifying needs so crucial or integral,
Simple daily tasks, normally classed as menial…
Making a brew and falling over was stressful,
Even my cookies, I thought, were untasteful,
At one stage, my odeing was unpoetical,
I was sinking into being pathetical,
Had a problem that was urinogenital…
That corrected itself unexpectedly, but wonderful!
I’m feeling better; a smile brewing was detectable!…
No cause nor reason to my being suddenly zestful…
But I lost the day, through feeling mournful,
A massive Memory Blank made me uncomfortable,
I’m back, belatedly, things seeming extirpable…
Don’t know what brought on this antidotal,
I’m content again, accepting being docile, Now aware I’m incognisable and coercible, Being free of the mind-devil’s grip is incredible! But the memory of this torture is indelible… Hours lost, but they now seem ephemeral… Always the chance of another mental embrangle, I tried to scribe this ode aesthetical… Whatever caused my blanks is a mystery, As I type this, I feel some affability… I’m returning to acting precociously, You may find some inorthography…
So this late started diary… Of detail, there’ll be a scarcity… My brain & body are still not agathokakological!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not much nocturnal drainage?
Another poor morning shot… Oh, dear, another one!
Not much rain today.
And an instant, as usual, unexpected, another caught me out as I went into the kitchenette. The stack of medical drawers was knocked over with some aplomb… Everything got mixed up, and I had a devil job sorting out what should go back into which drawer! All the bending down and getting back up certainly remained in the memory box. I had to take some Codeines afterwards. But I did find an in-date loaded hypo of Enoxaparin. Good! Then, I spontaneously decided to check through the nurses’ and carers’ medications. Imbecilically, I then checked under the table and the spare room… I got myself confused somewhat. And abandoned my medicational investigations.
THEN THE BIG MEMORY BLANK TIME! Erm, err…
Found myself taking some evening shots from the open kitchenette window. Best sunset for a good while tonight.
FOOD! Baked curried beans and soy mini sausages (all gone now, sadly). Tomato passata added, with the regulation Milk Roll sliced bread. I think I enjoyed it... well, it looked decent enough in this photo. Because another mini visit, stifled my recalling from her on, until the last caller visited and woke me up. No idea who it was. It was morning before the grey-cells pretended to be working again. I think my perceptiveness today must have been on holiday or AWOL.
I had to take off my nocturnal pouch in the night. I’d forgotten to ask the Carer to empty the day bag before attaching the might pouch, and the bag was getting too full and rather painful in the bladder area. Ruined my sleep as well with having to get it taken off. 05:00hrs: Hence, the colour of the urine when I got up in the day bag, was far too deep. Humph!
Meandered into the kitchenette, got the kettle on, and tried for a change, to take a decent morning photograph. They were of my usual standard – rubbish!
Made up a waste bag from the others, and as I placed it near the front door, I had to hasten… well, hobble swiftly to the wet room for the morning session. Gorblimey, that was messy again!
I attempted to take a Kodak Tim shot worthy of presenting in this marvellous, entertaining, fascinating Daily Inchy Today blog. (Ahem!) The first one wasn’t… The second is even worse. But the sky came out alright.
Carer Christopher arrived. I mentioned my forgetting to ask him to empty the day bag last night before attaching the night pouch. He did a good job in getting the leg strappings on for me. Medicated too.
Got on the computer and confused myself as I lost concentration and somehow started doing different tasks at the same time – and lost track of what I was doing. I’m doing this more often lately.
Hence my disappointment at not speaking with the Doctor, the Cognitive Impairment Psychotherapist, on Thursday. I wanted to speak with someone who understood and may have been able to give some advice or guidance to me… But, No!
The needed emptying. Still looking too dark to me. I drank more
Carer Dochal (I think) arrived. Medications, check on the lifeline check was done.
Back on the computer trying to sort out where I was before. Sister Jane rang me. Said she’d given me her new address in with her Christmas Card. She’ll email it to me as well. I emailed it to Obergruppenfurheress Warden Deana later on, for the record.
Back on the Computer… and the door chime rang out. It was a delivery of the table I’d ordered. I’m hoping that it will fit under the chair so I can eat with less chance of spilling, knocking anything or dropping stuff on the floor; curtsey of Shaking Shoulder Shirley, Dizzy Dennis, an involuntary Peripheral Pete Leg Dance, Reflux Roger, Loss of Balance Belinda, or Colin Cramps. But I fear things are not going to work out. Why? I’ll tell yers! The well-sellotaped box it arrived in, was awfully light. I can imagine myself getting the shakes and knocking the table about with ease and spilling, dropping and swearing a little, maybe, when I use it?
An hour or so later, the pouch was near;y full again! But it did look a ‘lighter shade of pale!’ (Wasn’t that the title of a song back in the day?).
At last, it’s getting lighter outside, too. Well into the afternoon now as well.
Back on the computer. Creating the ode of the day now… But inspiration & concentration is still scarce. Getting dark earlier than ever.
did the next check. I took his Health Checks before he left. Another good one from the lad, a healthy specimen of a Carer. Hehe!
Caught some contrails in the oddly coloured evening sky, with the sunset… It was Bootiful!
Then I set about getting the roast potatoes out of the oven, and into a pan of Chilli Soup with added soy, liquid smoke flavour and Worcester sauce. Flavour Rating: 9.2/10. Gorgeous!
Went to wash the fodder things. How the view had changed from 30mins ago!
I bet you all got this one!
Closed the computer down and went to check that I’d not left the hot water tap (faucet) running. Another change of view.
All ready for Monday yet? Whatever you do, don’t forget… Although I am a simple poet, Take heed of this little odelet, Take care when doing a pirouette, Or backing a 5/1 favourite… Christmas, at home with your poppet, Keep your money in your pocket… Save cash; have a pigeon, no piglet, And send me some money… That will rescue me… Lost my bank card & number, see? I also lost it in 1953… I’ll accept donations, appreciatively, They’ve also turned of my electricity! I’m not seeking pity or sympathy! Just money, by the pound, not penny!
Today, and were in harmony and became the main ailment aggressors for the day. For the second day. My mind was tormented like never before, and I thought Thursday was bad for concentration… today dwarfed the effects suffered yesterday. I was, well, still am, in another world almost. At least I can bring myself to talk about it this morning. So, hopefully, the shoddiness of vagueness will ease a little bit today. But then again. If I can get through to next Thursday, I’ll remember to explain the out-of-it sensations I’m going through now. That is, of course, if they ever end before I arrive at the Dementia meeting with the Doctor, I anticipate after the travelling (the lift has not been confirmed yet), so it may need bus and tram travelling to get each way, I’ll not be in a good state of mind or body, and forget everything I needed to remember to ask and inform of the medics. A fantastically gigantically long Memory-Blank today, along with a few short ones. I can’t recall many carers’ visits, yet odd details and incidents are as clear as water. Most are foggy or absent altogether. I can’t recollect writing today’s ode, but reading it here baffled me a bit at first. Sorry again for the littleness of details.
Dark.
The blanks came on. I came out of it with me having peeled, and I am now cutting up some potatoes to go in the oven later for the meal. Then, I realised it needed doing now when I looked at my watch. So, I got them oiled and into the saucepan. Served up and ate the off meal. I enjoyed it, I reckon, but not when I realised all the lost to-memory time.
At least the TV was working.
Talk about losing it. I made another meal! I did enjoy this one.
Considered getting the quilt and pillows on the bed tonight. Of course, of the Porcelain Throne and forgot all about doing it.
Another blank.
Got this in. Sand bucket handle on the bottom, when as we all remember, it should be on the top – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – But the new spectacles are not up to scratch – Mind you, I have already scratched the lens on them. Cognitive Impairment Iris, the water geyser on the right leg has had to be bandaged… by me, what a mess I made of it. Little Inchie is giving nearly as much pain as Back-Pain-Brenda is! Plus, Concentration Konrad is along with all of these, making it hard work! Can’t hear very well either. Humph! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Such a bad day for me. Worst in a long time. Confused, even more forgetful. Back-Pain-Brenda, Shuddering-Shoulder-Shirley, Little Inchie bleeding, as were indeed poor Harold’s Haemorrhoids and the teeth. Then as I was about to get my head down in the early hours of this morning (Saturday), one of the right lymphatic leg leakage gysers burst open! Anyway, I must at least try to keep to at least an imitation of the events’ chronological order. (Which it is already tp late to do, innit?) But the chances of that are best minimal – in fact, I can guarantee they and the grammar will leave you as confused as I am! Tons of things have been missed off this record. Due to my impressively effective habit of losing things – like the notepad I wrote all my notes on… the hearing aids, which I got out to show Kara two days ago, and have not got the foggiest where I put them! Oh, and the new reading glasses have absconded as well. I’m not sure whether to blame Dementia Doreen or Cognitive Impairment Iris. Maybe the constant pain I’m in is sending me a smidge more doolally than it normally does?
Great colour in the nocturnal catheter night bag.
Ten hours later, with little in the way of memory, and realising the notebook had done a runner. Liberty-Global Virgin Media had gone down at least…
Back-Pain-Brenda had forced me to take extra forbidden by the District Nurse, painkillers. Then, poor Little Inchie started bleeding as I bent down to retrieve biscuit barrel, and hit my head on the edge of the cabinet. The left Cataract eye, felt like it had glass in it, and assisted Confusion Conrad in making this a terrible day for me.
Off to the Porcelain Throne… This procedure was repeated five or six times over the day. With the same result!Zilch!
The toes remain in a two-tone shade.
Sorted the evening bags out.
I do recall Carer Chis coming n the last call of the day. He cheered me up a smidgeon. I took his photo as he was preparing to give me the Maxitrol Eye Drops. Note how he keeps the light bulb covered as he puts them in for me? Feeling a little perked up now, I took his Bloof Pressure etc. and put it in the NHS thingamajig. After the lad had gone, I inputted it, with excellent results coming back. Insisted he takes a drinkie & nibbles in thanks for his kindness.
Got the Wednesday blog finished at long last, and posted it of just before midnight. Realising as I did, that the potatoes on the crockpot had been cooking now for about 18 hours! I went to investigate the condition of them… Haha! They were fine! Just right, but they had been in a low-heat setting. I put the cheese & onion pasty in the microwave and went to attempt a wet room evacuation on the ? Porcelain Throne… No, nothing moved. I might have my stomach blow up if I don’t get a clearout before long.
Got the meal served up, and washed the pots & pans. Nothing exciting I know, but I enjoyed it all the same. So tired out now, still with pains and aches, especially so with Back-Pain-Brenda and Little Inchies sufferings. Flavour-Rating: 7.6/10!
As I was just putting the dish and cutlery in the bowl of water to wash them… slipped and I nearly went over, clouted my knuckles on the corner of the sink, and at the same time felt wet dripping on my right foot. My immediate thought was that the retaining clip on the catheter must have opened… Then it dawned on me, the was now on my left leg? Oh, ‘ecky thump!. One of the Lymphorrhea Leslie water geysers had burst open, and the fluid coming out was spreading from between my toes, all over the kitchenette floor. That’s why the stick slipped I think? No panic, though! Oh, no… just the most humungous pissed-off session of my life! Which turned into a self-pitying bout of depression at my rotten, ever-worsening state of health medically and mentally. I was so looking forward to getting some sleep after being up for so long and suffering a horrendous day… well, much more than 24 hours. Now, I struggle to find the tapes, bandages and pads, which I have never applied on my own before. I found the equipment quickly, as the flow of Lymph fluid dwindled to just a slow seeping-out stage.
Let’s face it, there couldn’t be much left in my body to come out after the imitation Niagra Falls event! Hehehe! It felt like I was wading through water as I got into the other room with the assorted medical stuff. Uncertain about how to go with applying the coverings, I pressed on and hoped for the best. (Hoped for the best? Me? Hehehe!)I seem to recall several worries at this stage. This is not unusual as Tom Jones sang. I’ve to clean the mess up in the kitchen yet. What if I can’t stop the flow? I recognised now what the bits of white on the kitchen floor were; I think they were skin. Dizzy Dennis & Back-Pain-Brenda visited me, due to my breaking my strict instructions for the Falls Lady Sarah. As KI had no choice but to bend down to reach the lesion. It felt okay, and I was sure the flow had stopped within minutes of putting on my Heath Robinson medications. Then noticed a new bruise on my other leg. Due mayhap, to my banging it on the cabinet as I stopped myself tumbling?
The agony never stops for muggings here. By the time I’d cleaned up the kitchen floor and mess, I found myself apologising to Back-Pain-Brenda… as if that was going to stop her hurting? Tsk!. Inchy’s Ode to Getting Old
A picture I’d taken and forgot to put on earlier, Today has been worthy of a two-finger gesture! The hurt, confusion, and mental conjecture, I miss nattering, a good blathering or clishmaclaver, Old age brings ills, lurgies and conjecture… Fears, and worries, one can’t disencumber. I used to ruminate, contemplate, consider, My brain’s now an expert at ecdemomania, I was considered a flibbertigibbeter, I often wonder over life, whysoever? Philosophy is hard when one’s not clever, Although, I used to be a willing forgiver… Oh, forgive me, I’m starting to yatter… Although, does this really matter? I’m also known as a prognosticator, An empath, clairvoyant, or prophesier, Closer to the grave, I’m more of a toeier, Now the brains getting slower, foggier… Just to think, I was a half-decent squash player, Ageing, deciding, opting? No, I’m now a procrastinator… With physical and mental pains… it’s a bugger! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
