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06:00hrs: Woke up to find myself shuddering, flapping, and threshing about in the c1966. charity shop bought, second-hand, wincingly grotty, beige coloured, not working, crumb-covered from the nocturnal nibblings, itch-making, uncomfortable, virus breeding, easy-to-fall-out-of, recliner! Boy, that must have been some dream or nightmare I was having! I can’t recall a single thing about it, mind you.
I soon realised that the evening catheter pouch was in need of emptying.
So, I rose precariously (balance not so good) and emptied it.
Off to the kitchen. lovely view out there this morning. But the wind, when I opened the window, made me glad to be indoors.
I abandoned plans for making a brew and went off to the wet room to get the ablutions sorted. I don’t think I got any cuts at all shaving. 
However, when it came to cleaning my rotund, flabby-bellied wobbly, stomached body, I did hit problems. As expected: Cleaning around the inserted 
tube of the catheter protruding from Little Inchie… I don’t think I need to say this, but… the Fungal Lesion started bleeding! This necessitated the Daktacort ointmentationing to be done. After just a few oohs, argh’s and more fruitful words of agony, I got it finished. No bother to me, of
course. With my gigantic pain-tolerance level. 
I stopped crying and moved on to other areas in need of similar treatment. 
and then got some of the eyes drops in roughly the area of the right eye. (But not a lot).
Then, the big challenge – Getting dressed. With the right arm still painful when I stretch or bend, the Mystery Sharp Stabbing Pains in the rib cage, right-hand side, and now at the back as well, of the torso, his usual warning signs of an imminent 
due, leaving me virtually one handed to get the clothes – which is not easy using a picker-upperer as the same time!
But I made a fine job of it. I put a plaster on the cut finger, laughed off banging my knee on the floor cabinet corner when I lost my balance and applied some Germolene on the bruised head.
Arrived as I was making the much-belated brew. (It went cold). Issued the medications, and he laughed when he said: “Now drop ’em!” Hehehe! Put my socks on for me. Fitted the replacement weekly Catheter pouch. We had a natter, and bade him farwell.
I visited the 
, messy again, and almost black in colour this time – from the Karki of yesterday?
On the computer, Norton did a scan. Answered the mass of comments that had come in on WordPress… well, one.
There I was, sat, sitting at the computer and I realised that my right foot was warm and wet!
Yes, the pouch had been running the wee straight through, down my leg and into the slipper!
I dropped the 
trousers and got the bowl to stand my right foot in to catch the urine, which of course, I could not stop the flow!
I threw the sock in as well; that’s not going to be used again! As the bowl started to fill up, I rang Meridian to ask for help. Tina said she’d “Pop up to see you (me) later!
Both trouser legs had been soaked, and my socks and slippers – all of them had to be thrown away. Not having a lot of luck here, am I?
Oh, What a Calamity!
Arrived shortly after. Got it sorted for me. A different style of open-closure thingamabob fooled us, a press-through instead of a tap on the new pouch. Hah, well. Shame about the slippers, socks and trews having to be dished. But not as bad as it might have been, because some new slippers are being delivered this very day! Via Amazon.
Warfarin, DVT nurse Hristina ♥ arrived, and I explained about my being told to consult the Doctor about my leaving off the Warfarin before the Cystoscopy Procedure.
Hristina rang the surgery, explained everything, and they said they’d ring me back later on. Great!
The Sherington Park Surgery rang.
Told me I had to ring the hospital to find out about the Warfarin. This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor?
Farcical doesn’t come into it!
Came. Telling him about the problem with the Warfarin and thought I’d better ring the DVT Clinic, as they control the Warfarin and arrange for the blood tests to be calculated. I got what I thought was the telephone number for the DVT clinic from the web, but it turned out to be the Queen’s Medical Switchboard.
She would not put me through and told me to ring the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital – This is the hospital that tells me to ring the Doctor?
Ty took over the phone and got the number of the Urology at the Nottingham City Hospital. He’ll ring them tomorrow, but he is too busy at the moment to do it. Ty brought in the laundry and deposited the bag in the front room for me. Checked taps. But did not watch me taking the tablets… I thought I may have kist in through the missing teeth, but we could not see any under the cupboard. Off he went, saying he’d see me later.
So, more hours lost getting nowhere! I’m so frustrated and am still unsure of what to do about the Warfarin dosages.
Finally got the Monday blog completed and made a start on this one.
I got the laundry hung up and put it away. But the stretching and bending brought back the calmed down stabbing pains again. I’m not happy with these mystery pains! U just hope they are connected to urology problems and not something new ailment-wise. I’ll give you an idea of them… ARGH!
I could do no more now. Uncomfortable with the pains, tired out. Pathetically mega-depressed and irredeemably frustrated! Sorry for myself, I suppose? Let’s face it, nothing much is going right for me, is it?
Repeated catheter bag emptying.
I’ll get something to eat, methinks. No bread, no butter. A few chips, gravy, Ah, well, that’ll do.
Took a snap from the kitchenette window, showing my spare 3-wheeler walker on the balcony.
Also, the gravel path I used to be able to get up on my walks through the tree copse. So sadly missed.
My bread and butterless meal was thoroughly enjoyed.
I forgot to photograph it, so took one of the empty bowl after the food was demolished. Hahaha!
Woken around 2125hrs, as arrived. I was still half-asleep. Richard got the night bag attached to the day bag and the pouch in the grey bowl. I’m sure we had a chat about something – likely me moaning about not being able to find out about the Warfarin leaving off… Yes, I think it might have been.
Evening All!
I turned on the kitchen light, and nothing happened. Got the camera and took this picture and the light tube started to flicker into life, eventually lighting up the room.
Made up the nibble bags for the blood test nurses at the hospital.
The muck from the works taking place outside on the external wall, has somehow got into the kitchen? Hey-ho! 
Gathered the black bags, recycling jars, etc. and off out to the chute. Dropped the waste bags down the chute en route. To the lift, arrived at the lobby beneath at exactly 0800hrs.
Over the road and up by the Tree Copse into Woodthorpe Park.
laughing. I got an EQ conceived thought, that something nasty would happen this weekend. Fingers crossed I am wrong.
The traffic was heavy, and I made a mental note of being careful, when crossing the many roads I will need to on the way to the City Hospital.
The mind wandering as I legged it along towards the A611, were of a controlled memory of yesteryear for some reason.
I was well deep in thoughts, and not concentrating on where I was going, as I wallowed in nostalgia.
There were entrance/exit roads to cross on this stretch of the roadway.
I hobbled to the bus stop, the feet were stinging a bit now. Go a number 40 bus and was the only person on it at the time.
when I about five years old, a confrontation with the Mau-Mau, and voted Liberal once. So I can’t be accused of being fearful (Although I am).
Went to take the last medications of the day.
Went to catch up on my Facebooking next. All went well until I suddenly lost about fifty comments, there one minute, gone the next. Oh, I am confused now!
Health Checks: Sys 188, Dia 75, Pulse 80, Temp 35.1 and Weight 14.96, not happy with how the Sys seems so high lately.
On the way down in the lift, the latest Alien Blob had already escaped her mucus shell.
Up gravel path hill, passing the Copse on my left. Anne Gyna did not like this incline at all.
Where I was met with a sombre sight – many of the trees near the Pitch & Putt golf course were in the process of being murdered.
onvinced myself. I went left down towards the Mansfield Road exit gate, and as I stood underneath the beautiful trees that lined the footpath and took in natures wonderment, this Nottingham Footpath Cyclist came by me, making me jump a little as he wissed by somewhat close to me, I thought. At least he 
had a light on his bike.
Haemorrhoid Harold and Reflux Roger also in a good mood with me. Why even Hippy Hilda was alright to me. (Although she did have a good go at me later, bless her!)
Turned right at the lights and down along and Edwards Lane.
As I crossed the pelican light, I saw this in the middle of the path. I had to smile and say to it: “Not at the moment thanks.” Hehehe!
His little legs were going like pistons.
At the kid’s play area in the fields, I spotted some Nottingham Street Art Graffiti on one of the children’s, well I’m not sure what it is. Perhaps a skateboard area?
As I plodded on further, more unintentional Nottingham Street Art? Haha!
Caught a number 40 bus and dropped off in Sherwood. Seemed that someone or other had been having a feast at the bus stop.
I managed to avoid the Nottingham Pavement Cyclist on my way back up the hill.
I got an early meal. A simple, quick one today.
