– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Being unsure, I may well be an abiverts, I’m still a bit of an aetiologist… My mind’s wandering, I cannot adverse, Numbers confuse me, even some ambiences, But I’m an expert on the inside of ambulances, Many tumbles, I try not to take any chances, One thing that I miss is my past rapturousness, Back to Grizelda, and a wonderful lass, We shared romance with a bit of recklessness
Of course, we all have to grow older, And appreciate the wiles of mother-nature, Walking in the tree copse was such a pleasure… Most days, whatever the weather… Smelling the flowers, trees and the heather, Many birds in there, once I saw a mugger, He demanded my mobile, the little bugger, I thought these daily trips would last forever, I started to suffer depression and aporia.
As my mental & physical state deteriorated, My plans and hopes were annihilated, I was agitated when things degenerated, Lost confidence, became less self-assured, 2025, 3 hospitalisations from tumbles occurred, To eating food, I seem to have become addicted, Getting out alone cannot, must not be attempted, I went out with a Carer to be medically injected, Walked into the road, as I seizured… By my Carer, I was grabbed & rescued, Rare plans are made, but end up scuppered, For two weeks now, my BP has skyrocketed, New arrangements & ailments, get me baffled, My short-term memory is so easily blocked, I can feel high or low, then shemozzled… Changing several times a day, I’m overwhelmed, I’m always unprepared, yet not surprised… I’m not astonished, astounded, or amazed, But my own failings get me flabbergasted.
Facts, especially figures, become an axiom… Hot taps left on in the wetroom & kitchen, At night, asleep, I see an agathodaemon! We share a mental communication… He gives me exoneration, and absolution… I wake up, he’s not real, I feel indignation, At the benign creature, being in my cerebrum! Causing me more disorientation & confusion, Minutes later, I see it’s all an illusion… Until it happens again, all is forgotten, Of being in a seizure, causing self-vociferation, After recovering, there’s an acidic eruption, This is what you get when a valetudinarian, Anxiety, uneasiness, jitters, trepidation, You don’t think of yourself as a tellurian, More of an irritant, bother, or burden, But, like me, you can have a free trephination! After Thursday’s neurosurgeon’s examination, When I snuff it, I expect an ustulation, But on earth, you’ll get no transformation, Of course, it’s all a hypothesis, speculation, I’ve a catheter, no voluntary, tintinnabulation, A mechanical aorta, & I’m a perestroikian, And I love writing in my own form of fustian, Late life can bring you misapprehension! Things may get better? But, I’m sorry to mention… It’s more likely I’ll marry a Martian! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Regretfully, I’ve spent hours failing to get the WordPress (Google Blog) editor to let me use the fonts I want. I’m still not sure if this will come out right. To add to that, the SD card is packed in the camera. I’m peed off in the extreme.
It is now teatime, and I’m trying with crossed fingers after finally getting the Hepta font on screen —no photos of course.
No time left to do much now. Got to get ready for the nurse’s visit tomorrow and sort out the ‘No number’ letter from the Neurologists.
If this font doesn’t show and the trouble with the photos not showing persists, I’ll just have to pack up WordPressing. Much as I love it.
I’m so depressed!
I didn’t think my bad luck could get much worse than it was. HUH!
I just saved this, and it went back to another font again. I’ve had it. I’ll see how things are in the morning. ARGHH!
The same!
A nurse took a snap of my meal and emailed it to me on Monday morning. 💟 I added the score.
I do hope this comes on, and hopefully the Hepta font. But it could be any other font.
I’m struggling here.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My views here are only personal, But the world is now unsaveable, The end is nigh, this’s perfectly logical… No one is in charge who is credible, Oligarchs, wars, murderers, all political, Although you may think me sceptical? More people than ever claim to be academical, Greedy, violent, jealous, rarely aesthetical, Does it really matter who it is that is blameable? Armageddon and doomsday are unbeatable, Is there any hope that might be reasonable? A time machine? Could make you survivable! If you get one with an owner’s manual? You could avoid your death & burial, Thus avoiding the end, on the last crepuscle, Would you actually forward, somewhere futuristical? Cosmological, astrophysical, that would be fatal… There’d be no earth for you to contaminate,
But no worries about you dying intestate, No riches for politicians to agglomerate, No humans for them to adjudicate, administrate, No chips, no football, no chocolate, no tea & cake, Then again, no mistakes to make… Best to time-travel backwards, mate! An alternative earth, with another history?
Knowing Red Rum won the Derby in 1973,
You could find that you took useless money, You took to bet on Red Rum at Aintree, 9/1 odds you expected, but unhappily, He talked another language, did this bookie, You never thought of an alternate history! When the Vikings landed in Lindisfarne in 793, Defeating Alfred the Great in 878, in January, Now ruled by Hitler, the famous Nazi, He’d formed an alliance with Russia, you see, The Englanders still alive had to flee, HMG were in exile, in Ruanda-Urundi, Which later changed its name to Burundi, Can’t power up your time machine-no electricity, The unions were on strike in 1773… Then you realise it’s now 1823, Time Machine slipped into reverse? Calamity! You wish you’d stayed, faced the end graciously, Then you wake up, still feeling sleepy… Start relating your dream, your reverse thaumaturgy, To not your wife, but a maiden from Germany… Now’s the time to seek help, psychiatrically! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
A Rundown Of My Thoughts, Events & Ailments However, for some unknown reason, my concentration and balance were all over the place. But this didn’t bother me in the slightest iota while Horis was with me. The Highs were higher, but the lows were lower, too —if you know what I mean. Things were bizarre and confusing. Even creating the Ode was arduous work, and that has never been known before. Grammarly was well used.
I stirred around 06:30hrs, removed the nocturnal catheter bag from the day pouch, and gently performed the balance exercises. Got the health Check tackle together and did them in order, writing them down as I went… Then, partway through, I went to do my ablutions. Stopping myself before starting when I realised what I was doing. I felt a bit of a twit, wandering off track so early in the day. Back to the Health Checking. But could I find the Sys, Dia & Pulse readings I’d taken minutes before? No! I’ve still not seen them, not that it matters; it’s no bother to do them again. It’s just a vague fear I have each time I lose or forget something. It is getting worse, I know it. I retook the HC tests and entered the results directly into the Excel graph. They were lower than the last three days, fingers crossed. 🤞🏻
Then, I stripped and got to the wet room to do the ablutions. Oh, when I took off the socks and strapping from the legs, all on my own, I had an instant Dizzy Dennis visit. But he didn’t get me over… Hehehe! It seemed to me that I got them finished in record time, but I didn’t time the start; I got everything sorted in what seemed like minutes, impossible, of course. The vagueness returned when I went into the front room to get redressed in nice, clean clothes.
Carer Nimra arrived, and I asked her to put the undersocks and straps back on the legs. We worked together on it. I could bend down a short way, enough to hold the fourteen Velcro end straps and assist her in unsealing them by having the opposite ones. That seemed to get done quickly as well. I don’t feel poorly at all. In fact, I took a photo of them when I took them off and smiled at how the legs looked. The leathery-looking skin from two days ago had all but cleared up. Head swaggering here! Hehe! My balance has not been right all day. It got worse as the day went on. The dizziness came on several times almost immediately.
Carer Nimra did a good job on me. She scored the urine bag contents and emptied it for me. Did a full body check: knees and lower back were Phorpain-gelled, and the top of my back was foamed. Medications were issued. And Carer Nimra said her farewells. Bless her.
An hour or so later, the catheter day bag was so full it pulled the tube in Little Inchie. Glad it did, actually; otherwise it might have started bleeding again.
I started the Time Machine Ode, but for once, it was hard work. It seems my concentration had gone the way of my balance, and mt habit of mind-straying today.
I’m sick of things going out of sync. And moaning about things, but I’m just relating what’s what and how things go. Here I go again, sorry; Four hours of the afternoon gone, and I do not know where or how. The Ode had still not got any further. No seizures. If there had been an acidic surge, it would have happened, and it didn’t! Nothing had been done; however, the mobile phone had been moved for some reason… I think.
Carer Ejaz arrived. As I was beginning to perk up, in fact, we were having a laugh as I went into the kitchen, and another instant attack hit me. Ejaz heard me, as he put it, muttering, and came to assist me back to the main room. I was all over the place; yet minutes later, Dennis had hopped it, and near normality returned.
I asked Ejaz if he thought of anything I should tell the neurologist next Thursday, and to please write it down, so I can take it with me. I’m pretty sure it is a neurologic problem, the more I think of it today.
Yet kept appearing for seconds at a time. Not visually — that would be scary. Hehehe!
The usual everyday weariness and tiredness came a little earlier than normal.
I found two pictures from last night that I had missed putting on here. Better than my usual ones.
Got some food prepped. Easy-peasy, it was a Sainsbury’s ready-made minted lamb & potato hot pot. It looked and smelled so good! A pity it didn’t taste as good as it looked.
I took this snap while doing the washing up. It looked a lot darker to my eyes than it did in the photograph. Glaucoma Gladys’ special effects? Haha!
I hope that the photographs and graphics show up in the blog on the web this time. 🤞🏻
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Got advice: any new chest, arm, or back pain, I’m to ring again. But look at the results. As for any new pains, how can I tell with having so many? Hehehe! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I always knew that life had a temporality, I had a liking for rhyming wordsmithery, Although sadly lacking educationally, I wrote some decent stuff; only occasionally,
I got paid for a story, in 1953…
Got got rewarded with 7¾p, that was 1/3d
Boy’s Own Magazine sent a postal order to me, I’ve not been penniless, & not been wealthy, I’ve never acted yobbishly or done a robbery, Had very little sex, but it was all yummy! Luck? Me? More chance of finding a Yeti, Had various motorbikes, but none above 250cc, I tell a fib… I did have a Royal Enfield Fury, Accident first trip, broke my elbow & knee… Went back to bikes of up to 250cc, I voted Labour, but acted & lived conservatively, Life was still good when I was about forty, Played badminton & squash twice weekly, Then my health faded fast, became a liability, Duodenal ulcer, then a new aorta for Inchie, Made redundant, at very nearly sixty, The only job I could get was in security, With a guarding company, called Sawley, And I was soon finding the job so sorely… Got shot, found to be superfluous, unnecessary, Redundant again, then arteriopathy, Prostate cancer & Peripheral Neuropathy, Cataract, glaucoma, severe tooth decay, Arthritis, now moved on to Osteoarthritis, Had four hospital stays since February, Heart failure, low blood oxygen, cardiomyopathy, Falls and tumbles are the cause of three, 1) Cracked my head when I fell while making tea, Exrayed, water on the brain – Whoopie! Waiting for a procedure, trephinationally, 2) BP was high, hospitalised, systolic was 203,
Given more medications, just temporarily,
Not many days in hospital this time, just three,
3) Woke and rose from bed, far too swiftly,
The swirling started, & I went ultra dizzy…
Collapsed, landing on my arm and left knee,
Getting up was not an option, I tried painfully…
And got myself on my bottom, not easily,
And pressed my alarm button immediately,
The operator rang for an ambulance for me,
Carer Ejaz arrived, comfortingly, I had a seizure. I could taste the after-acidity, Two paramedics were suddenly beside me, Doing various tests, and an ECG, Then they took me away…, To geriatric falls, compassion not arraign, Then X-ray, then to osteopathy, still in pain, Then to a ward, remembering the name in vain,
Final ward M25, then got moved again,
To a corridor to await the whatshisname,
Thingy, ambulance, a lift home, and still in pain, 3 fractures in my hand, very little pain… Five in the left knee, they’ll all assain, And the water still in the brain, Trephination decision next Thursday afternoon, Hope that this Ode was not too arcane! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Not very well today —mega-confused; the dizziness never went away. Just one graphic photo of my daily meal. My sister Jane, Christine, and I think Jenny said the images on the blog weren’t displaying. Depressed, going from one task to another, and getting nothing finished… No, that’s not true, sorry.
HIGH-LIGHTS The good stuff! Carer Ejaz arranged the Neurology lifts for me —Bless Him. Going, it will be Easy-Link, coming back, I don’t know who, but it has been sorted by the ICC Carers office. One thing less to worry about. Also, the paperwork for the appointment has not arrived yet, and I was panicking, especially after all the fuss and bother over the transport finally being sorted out. I think I mentioned earlier that the meeting was next Tuesday. Well, I got it wrong, it’s on Thursday.
LOW-LIGHTS The not-so-good stuff! I’m going to try not to mention these (No guarantee, of course), but I can assure you, there were plenty of them. I’m sick of reporting failures, errors, mistakes, calamities, and Depression Darius encouraging incidents. So, I won’t do any more. I had several short but welcome visits from my beloved, if confusing . But much more from Jenny contacted me via email. She complains when I treat Frank and her to treats they like during a Special offer. In her email, she put this graphic, telling me she’s told me not to. Hehehe! She has a lovely sense of humour. I wish they could do something about the pain she is in whenever she has to walk. She copes so well with it. An Angel. 💖
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I can reveal to you what lies ahead… More wars, millions of innocents dead, Millions born, who can’t afford to be fed, Sheltering in the gutter, they have no bed, Compassion will soon be exhausted, Crooked leaders will be acquiesced, Putin’s underwater nuclear weapon test, Trump claims his will be the best… Starmer issues teachers with a stab vest, Victims remain alone, uncounseled, UK’s PM Starmer is so uncredentialled, But he got in power, the voters were fooled, His lies have gone all unattributed, His robbing of pensioners is unappreciated, His future will be undiverted… By truth, honesty, he’ll stay subverted, His lies seem to be accommodated… And still he’ll get backhanded! His actions will not be totally whitewashed, In a short time, humankind will be kyboshed, The world will be aureoled… The planet is destroyed; well, it is getting old, Going to the moon to escape may be attempted, But there’s no point, you may be annoyed… But our Universe will also be destroyed, Leaving a rather large void, Could it be rebuilt by a Martian Zoid? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Up at 05:00hrs, and hastily removed the night catherter bag, and even hastlier fumbled my way to the wet for a Canstipation Konrad evacuation, I’d managed to get a little cut on my finger somehow, so ran it under the tap and dried it off, then got down on the plastic seat of the Porcelain Throne.
It took me ages to force things out, and a couple of rock-hard follow-ups.
Friday morning: Got up, cleaned the mess in the kitchen, then opened WordPress. ARRRGH!
All the blog had partly disappeared, except for up to ‘rock-hard follow-ups’ on the page! ???
I’ve not got the heart to do it all again. Hours of work lost – along with the mini-disasters, which I will put on again, but not in so much detail.
I’ll start them here; the photos are out of sync.
Just a drop of urine overnight?
The mug of tea to see,
Ended up on the floor.
Via my dressing
Gown, knee & me!
No photo for this one —the second-most-annoying of the day. I was tired, it was late, and I’d still not done the ablutions due to my repugnant habit of leaving the hot tap running. I was making up some Catheter Cathy spring water, and picked up the grapefruit juice to add to it… I dropped the bottle, and I don’t think there was any part of the kitchen floor that didn’t get a taste of the fruit cordial as it spread.
No less than four kitchen rolls were dropped on the juice, in hopes of containing it.
I tried treading on it to help soak up the juice and collect some from the floor.
Paracetamol, Codeine and fizzy Paracetamol followed. And I had to cope with , from all the bending down. I almost, nearly, well, thought about going into a . But after I’d emptied the catheter pouch and returned to the kitchen, the floor was so sticky that it had to be mopped. After mopping, it was still sticky, and I almost lost a slipper as it stuck to the floor! I used a vinegar-based spray on the floor, and gently dropped some paper towels down. I left it to hopefully dry unstickily before making a meal.
Deciding the floor must be checked, I thought I’d make a brew of tea if the floor was dry and not sticky. It was tacky. I kept to the right of the kitchen—the less messy bit—to make the tea… Joined in with , with affecting my right hand, I crushed and then dropped the packet on the floor. Genuflecting again to pick them all up, I’d got about 80% of them, then realised they could well have come into contact with the bleach, vinegar and floor cleaner that I’d been using on the tiles! I threw them away, not wanting to risk using them.
I took a snap of the view from the window
as I prepped the meal of the day.
I fell asleep while eating the meal and was woken by Carer Mirza, who needed to be admitted.
A nice lad. I mentioned the visit to the Neurosurgeon and gave him my mobile. I asked Mirza if he could read it and tell me how I should respond. Which he did, and I followed, and a minute later, I got an email thanking me for replying. After Mirza had departed, with my thanks for helping, I received another message from Neurosurgery.
They will post me details and instructions along with an appointment number (needed if I am to use the Hospital Transport).
Carer Ejaz did the last call and read the message just received. Hopefully, the letter with the necessary details will arrive in time for me (Well, a Carer) to book a lift with Hospital transport.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Take one fresh and tender kiss, Add one stolen night of bliss, Memories are made of this… I recall my female accommodationists, But try to forget the ones I missed, My thoughts of them bring bleakness, Some tall, some short, some with blemishes, Often the blissfulness was boundless, The passion could also leave me breathless, Refusals brought brokenheartedness, And they were pretty multitudinous, Some buxomness, billious or blasphemous, The contact activity was bootilicious, Grizelda Freudenburger, the musculeist, Her groping unquestionably was the best, Some antics, entanglements were just pauseless, She was uncontrolled and never passionless, Excited, her eyes grew the colour of quarenders, Our tangles showed a certain recklessness, We shared shirtlessness and sillyness, Her body? The height of sumptuousness, Her mind & body were scrumdiddlyumptious, We’d mate for hours; we were not abstemious, I’m upset now, no Grizzly, just memories! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
I woke at 05:45hrs, with the acid surge coming into my nose and mouth. No doubts, I’d just woken up at the end of a nocturnal seizure. At teatime, I did a search on Google, with this result: Nocturnal seizures are epileptic seizures that occur during sleep, often causing abnormal movements, confusion, or screaming (Not screaming in my case, no mention of the acidity upsurge?). They can be managed with antiseizure medications, adjusting your sleep patterns, and taking safety precautions, such as using a low bed or a seizure monitor. If you suspect you or someone you know is having nocturnal seizures, it’s essential to consult a healthcare provider (Hahaha!) for a proper diagnosis and treatment plan. Considering that I was diagnosed with Peripheral Neuropathy eight years ago, and the Doctor didn’t even tell me what it was or meant. (I googled it) With so many ailments it brought, and it is still delivering over the years. I told her (Those were the days when one could get an appointment at the surgery). I’d probably have as much chance of winning the lottery, and I don’t do it, or seeing Grizelda again and having mad, rampant, delightful sex every day. I waited a while before removing the night catheter bag and doing my balance checks routine.
Carer Nimra arrived as I was coming out of the wet room after doing the ablutions and a chronically painful Trotsky Terence pebbled evacuation.
The Doctor’s receptionist rang me on the landline with the results of yesterday’s INR Warfarin blood test. Changes of the Warfarin dosages, which I passed on to Carer Nimra.
The window cleaners arrived as I made another mug of tea and started the blog’s Ode. The £10 for cleaning the balcony windows is now £15.
I hobbled onto the balcony to take snaps, thinking the glass would be clean, but no. The rain started to fall, fine, but a lot of it. I thought I’d taken a shot of the end car park, but when I went to upload them, they had mysteriously vanished from the Kodak 2 Tim SD card. Again! This one is of the Chestnut Way front car park, look at the rain! ANOTHER COCK-UP! I was positive that I’d ordered this Asda order for next Wednesday. Huh! Help! The Age UK lady said when I was in the hospital that they would send someone to help me sort out the finances, and with my Arithmaphobia. I was over the moon when she said that. But they must be busy with so many more immigrants and with people getting older and senile. I I’ve now got so much stuff in the fridge! I had to jiggle things about to get these in it. Help was promised with this problem. Nnothing yet, they must be so busy. I chose this ready-made meal for my feast. I’ll add some potatoes and gravy to it first.
Then Ejaz arrived, took the laundry down to the launderette & returned. Explaining that he did not have a bus pass to go with me to the Chemist. I only had 2 £2 and a £1 coin, change from the window cleaners. He called his base. Then he told me someone from their office would arrive in 20 minutes to give me a lift. Ejaz got he walker out of the balcony for me. I think he enjoys it when I leave him alone in the flat. Ejaz had confirmed on the phone yesterday that the Chemist can do both jabs, and we didn’t need to book in. (See later Tsk!)
Ejaz said we should go outside to meet her, so we did. But I’d forgotten to empty the catheter before leaving the flat. We walked through the connecting corridor into Winwood flats. And used the disabled toilet to empty the pouch before leaving.
The young lady who arrived was the one who was so helpful last time—a lovely gal from my Carer’s office—and she was off to the Chemist.
Things Did Not Go According To Plan! I didn’t need to say that, really, did I? Ejaz had phoned the pharmacy yesterday and was told we could have both flu & Covid injections without an appointment. Great, I thought at the time! But lurking in my conscience was a realisation of my expectations from my ‘Bad-Luck’ omitter. I knew something was going to go wrong; my EQ is very rarely incorrect. We parked up in the free car park, got the walker out of the boot and meandered onto Mansfield Road and up to the Ascent Chemist. They could not do both injections! While they were trying to get someone to do the COVID-19 one, The Carer fetched her car from the car park and parked in front of the Chemist. She said as she left that she didn’t think we were going to get it done, and that the car would be ready to try another one. Bless her, also to save me walking. The pharmacist said to try the one over the hill on the right. The Jayplex Pharmacy. We drove there and got both jabs done. With aching arms, hehe! I was lifted back to the flat.
Ejaz was still there; he loves being on his own. He’d got the laundry in the machine and mopped the kitchen for me. I thanked the gal for the lift, and Ejaz nipped down to get my laundry from the dryer. I was feeling pretty good compared to last year’s do, when I had a 22-hour sleep after having had the injections. Thankfully, I may have had a different type of COVID-19 needle contents this time. Because I only slept for five hours tonight. But well!
I had an amazingly different Long Seizure! I think it must have been for a few hours —unwell. Was it the effects of the COVID-19 or the flu vaccine? But I did have the acidity upflux, so I believe it was a seizure, but you never know. Maybe a combination of both – why do I say this? I’ll tell yer!. It appears I took photographs I cannot recall, and lost them on Thursday morning. After waiting for the acrid acid taste to dissipate, I was on the bed, which I cannot remember getting into. The catheter bag was well-filled, so I went to empty it —no balance problems at all. ARRRGH! I’d been in the wet room earlier, because again. So I went to the kitchen to find another bit of unremembered activity I’d been up to. A meal — stew — had been mixed and placed in a microwave basin, ready for cooking. How the heck could I have done all these things and remember nothing about doing them? I know this has happened before, but it still narked and confused me.
Ejaz came for the first night call, noticing the meal, saying, “You’ve already cooked a meal? Well done!” I said nothing about not remembering; I knew nothing of what was in the bowl other than it was a stew of some sort. It smelled nice. I had a quick look in the waste bag, a tin of Irish Stew, and a torn-to-shreds cover from one of the ready-made meals from the fridge; the Marmite and Bovril jars were not in their usual place. I may have mentioned the long sleep or seizure, but I’m not certain… no, likely not.
Here’s a snap of the meal. But not so glorious this time. One of my worst-tasting efforts for years! The extra potatoes I seem to have boiled and cut up were too hard for Toothache Tiffany to handle. But I ate everything else, despite the out-of-the-ordinary flavourings. Should this happen again, and I prepare a meal without remembering, I’m going to give it a wide berth and dish it in the waste bag!
Getting help with transport today definitely helped cheer me up. And a laugh and a natter with someone was marvellous, I loved it. Thank you, too, to the ICC. Inner City Carers team.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I was once addicted to ponderisationing… Digging into, working out and clarifying, I had a distinct desire, a need to be classifying… Knowledge seeking, digesting & chymifying, How the UK government is functioning, A fixation to be in a position for correcting… Have the power to be execrating, condemning, I lost the will when MPs got egomania, & lying, The moon landing was false, said Buzz Aldrin, I asked for a cuddle, & got no reply from Carole King, Then, as if in an instant, I found myself ageing… Losing my plot on the blog and Odeing, I took to falling, tumbling and forgetting… Peripheral Neuropathy, Glaucoma, bad hearing… Mechanical Aorta fitted, then a Duodenal ulcer, Got shot twice, got made redundant & prostate cancer, 2025, four spells of hospital visiting… Things are not getting exactly riveting, Now, the Labour Party’s principal annihilator, The pensioner, families & farmers hater… Famous for fibbing and taking many a backhander, An acquisitor, a hatred-inspiring activator, I write his lies down regularly, on my adversaria, At first, when he declared his father to be a toolmaker, My EQ told me he was a hoodwinker, a masquerader, Who can mislead, as well as an ex-barrister? His statements are furnished with inexactitude, He has no excuse, there is no exemplification… The process of pre-pollination and fertilisation? We can’t remember —do we need to bother? Did cavemen eat brassica, or kill a centaur? Have humankind really got cleverer & brainier? Scientists made our weapons nuclear, Gave us anthrax, C4, & the laser… Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation, Hence, my mind is losing its synchronisation… Cognitive Impairment, mental deprivation… Knives, machetes, drugs, in circulation… Humankind, heading for self-destruction? This is more than just a presumption, It’s more of a hypothesis or assumption, We ask AI for tips, guidance & information, Who is to blame for the universe’s invention? Are we guilty of Earth’s coming cessation? We are to blame, in many ways, including corruption? Hitler claimed to be seeking human perfection, Will the future we’ve left be ruled by a Russian? Wars, acquisitiveness, avarice, alienation,
Homo sapiens began in Africa, and we all face extinction, Did we leave the sea in search of vegetation? I’m going to give St.Peter an interrogation! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
This afternoon, I had the most mini-seizures I’ve ever had in one day. And yet for the previous week, I’d have had the fewest of any kind. Although, of course, of I had any longer ones, I may not be aware that I had; as the acity yet coming up from the innards is often not there after an extended seizure. Well, that’s usually what happens.
So large blanks, and for some reason, not a word on the memory notepad?
I rose late, and the acidic taste filled my mouth and throat. So I assumed I’d been having a few nocturnal seizures; it happens sometimes. I think I made a brew, but I may not have —no photograph taken early, as I would generally have. Mind, I did get up late again. Guesswork and some photos to prompt, otherwise a bare blog today.
The food delivery arrived, and I’ve ordered one for next Tuesday too. J Sainsbury’s that one.
Ordered some Germoloids, Clotrimazole Cream, Pre-Injection Isopropyl Alcohol Swabs – Pack of 100, Sterimar Breathe Easy Nasal Spray – 100ml, and Co-Codamol.
Tarmacing the pathway. Bottom of the path.
That’s your lot, folks. Sorry. But the seizures, and taking so long on the Ode, did for me.
Time to get the meal prepared.
A meal with a difference tonight! Zywieska sausage sliced. A dollop of sliced pickled beetroot. Milk Roll no-butter buttered bread with sliced tomatoes. Anya potatoes boiled with Strong soya added, with a nutty taste. Lime & lemon mousse.
Very passable & enjoyable; I wish I could say the same for eating it. Partway through enjoying the meal, I had to hobble hastily to the . Very misleading indications of the need. I felt sure it was going to be a Trotsky Terence affair, but, no! It was butter bean-sized concrete clumps, no torpedoes or mushyness,
It took me ages to pass them.
Back to the cold potatoes, and restarted my dining. I dropped a potato, and it fell onto my chest, leg, and foot on the floor. Foolishly, I did not use the picker-upperer and bent down to retrieve it… A mistake that! & came on together, and I knocked the tray onto the floor! Best not mention the language I blurted out. Losing the greater part of the meal was bad enough, but cleaning up afterwards, the genuflecting and bending needed, invited to all but have me over, causing me to hit my fractured knee on the edge of the ottoman. Naturally, this didn’t bother me in any way whatsoever.
If Starmer can lie, well, so can I!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – My Odes seem to be primarily anecdotal, I rarely spurt out anything apoplectical… Educated, inspiring, but some are comical, Yet creating them can often be ahemeral, They are certainly not in the least aesthetical, Are they sufficiently rhymed and/or poetical? My fretting over this is rather pathetical, But my failings don’t seem to get me all apoplectical, Should they, though? Is that practical? Do my thoughts & words appear tactical? Tumbles: Four trips this year, to the hospital, Many things in the pipeline, primarily medical, My fears & worries at times seem astronomical, Now, an Ode about Fact & Finding, I find myself today, constantly self-alienating, I began this Fau-Ode with High-Horis visiting, Immediately, Sod them, I stopped worrying, I got as far as, and up to here… Horis left, Depression Darius did appear… Along with yet another fear… Ejaz got out the Health Checking gear, Sys 178 Dia 59, oh dear oh dear! I dialled for advice, & spoke to a medical advocator, Asked questions & put us through to a cardiologer, She was a fact-revealing questioner, My answers? Seemed a patient, interested listener, I revealed all my worries, finances, arithmaphia, Being flat-bound, hospitalised in September, Twice, for 3 days, then 3 weeks in October, All through my tumbles and my falling over, Peripheral Neuropathy & effects of each seizure,
The last whoopsie produced many a fracture, 3 in my knee, my wrist, hand and finger, Depression, can’t get to see my Doctor,
My fungal lesion & about my having diarrhoea,
Finances are dwindling. Can I afford to keep the Carer?
I rattled on for at least a quarter of an hour!
Realising I’d been such a talker, a twattler…
I cringingly apologised straightaway to her…
Realising we’d been cut off, I felt a plonker!
As I put down the phone, the lady rang back,
She was still calm, not at all bombastic,
I feel this Ode is getting a smidge banausic, She told me, if I get any pains, to call for a medic,
I told her I’ve always got them, she was mirific,
Contact your Doctor if you are worrying…
If I try to, I know what I’ll be hearing,
“You are in a queue of 19 waiting”… I’m sure that I heard her laughing! This Ode may be partly biographic? A nurse came from the DVT Warfarin Clinic, Then the phone started ringing… I wanted to say, as she started speaking, You’re the 150th person in the queue waiting, It was a lady from the Doctor’s surgery, An ambulance is coming for me, Hehehe! So I added this last bit hastily! I’ll try to catch up on Tuesday.
It might be difficult if I’m waiting for the nurse. I’m feeling alright in myself —well, I say, alright… Haha! And Ejaz has booked me in with the pharmacy for Wednesday, to have my flu & Covid jabs. I’ll see if we have time to call in the Dentists to get a prescription for more of the Duraphat toothpaste.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – They said on the phone that they are going to see if they can arrange for an oxygen supply for me to use at home. In the hospital. 25 minutes after the 111 call had ended! On the way home, in a taxi, an hour after arriving. Home 25 minutes later. Caught up and finished the above Ode.
Up, bag off, and off to the wetroom.
HC Checks. All in the Ode
Again!
Called 111. All in the Ode.
Carers desk, Why did I take this?
Once more into the wetroom.
Took this while nurse-spotting.
Getting fed up with this.
Any more to come?
Cumberland pie, with some alphabet potatoes added. Lime & Lemon yoghourt. In the morning, I found several empty bags of Salt & vinegar and Marmite puffs. Guilty!
Inchy: You made a meal of that last hospital stay, didn’t you? Inchie: Wot do yer mean? Inchy:: Three weeks of bed baths, heart failure, broken bones in your wrist, hand and knee… threatened to nobble another patient, had to be constrained by the orthopaedic staff… Inchie: Hang on, hang on, gimme a chance to answer… Inchy: Go on then, answer! Inchie: Forgot the first question now… Inchy: You pillock! Bed baths! Inchie: Oh, yeah, the bed baths; Years ago they would have been a pleasure, but not nowadays… Inchy: Why’s that then? Inchie: You have to ask? You’ve been in my brain for 82 years, and you haven’t noticed that I had bladder and prostate cancer? Can’t sire a child, or even have sex with the bloody catheter on or off? Inchy: Well, it gave me some pleasure to get you upset and remind you of your lousy luck & inabilities —it’s my only pleasure! Sorry old chap, I can’t help it… It brought me some pleasure to upset you and remind you of your bad luck and shortcomings. Your fault, I suppose. Inchie: The neurologist suggested it could be due to schizophrenia and other psychotic disorders: That you are in my head; Neurological conditions: Dementia… Inchy: Ah, you’ve got peripheral neuropathy, pre-morbid Cognitive Impairment, and you’re as depressed as a crocodile when the Great Wildebeest Migration fail to turn up for a drink… Inchie: You’re doing it again! Having a go at me! Inchy: No more than when you start self-lambasting in your sleep! Inchie: Oh, you know about that then? Inchy: I probably know more about you than you do! Inchie: How? Inchy: I’ve not got Early Diabetic Dementia, Cognitive Impairment, or a memory as much use as a cullinder to hold water, you have! Inchie: Oh! I see… Inchy: You don’t see very well, though, do you? Cause your cataract operation failed, and now you’re on yet another NHS waiting list, to have your Gladys Glaucoma-fogged eyes lasered… Inchie: Erm… Inchy: Don’t interrupt! Inchie: Sorry! Inchy: This brings me back to the Wilderbeast migrating for water, to you see the connection? Inchie: Erm… no… Inchy: Hydrocephalus; water on the brain! The buildup of excess cerebrospinal fluid (CSF) in the brain puts pressure on your brain tissue. Symptoms include headaches, nausea, vomiting, vision problems (you?), difficulty walking (you?), and cognitive changes like confusion (you?) or dementia (you?). Struth, you were told about it in hospital, can you not recall it? Inchie: I clearly recall someone telling me they had diagnosed heart failure… that I’d been in surgery, but I can’t recall being in surgery. Inchy: I was just about to get to that! I reckon it shocked you, that’s why you forgot about the Hydrocephalus? Inchie: No, I haven’t forgotten about it, actually… Inchy: You little fibber! Inchie: Crog-off! (Stamping foot – which set off pain from the knee joint and Cartilage Chloe) Inchy: Hehehe! You’re so teasable, provokable and trollable! Inchie: No, I’m not… whatever trollable means! Inchy: Do you mean to tell me that you went into heart failure in the hospital, and cannot remember anything about any procedure, treatment or actions taken? Inchie: Yes. Inchy: Liar! Inchie: No, it’s true, mate. The previous 3 days in there, the blood test went down so much. The blood oxygen saturation (\(SpO_{2}\)) went down from the previous days’ average of 92 to a low of 19! The pulse rate (PR\(SpO_{2}\) down from 69 to 15. A nurse wrote the figures for me to show my Doctor next time I see her. Inchy: You got to see your NHS Doctor? Now I know you’re speaking with a Keir Starmer forked tongue! Inchie: I didn’t say I got an appointment, did I? Inchy:Well, no, I suppose not… Inchie: You are a conclusion jumper-tooerer! Inchy: Go on then, tell me about it… Inchie: Carer Ejaz tried to ring the surgery on several occasions after I waited for 4 hours for the lift to get me home from the hospital; He rang repeatedly on Monday, Wednesday, Thursday & Friday. When I or a Carer phones the surgery now, we are put through to an assessor, who decides if an appointment is necessary for the caller. After waiting to listen to music and medical advice that has nothing to do with your problem, and being told, as Ejax was a Wednesday, you are caller number 19 in the queue! When he got down to ‘You are now number 3 in the queue, ‘the line went dead!’ A fortnight later, after many more frustrating failures, Ejaz got to talk to a receptionist, not an adjudicator or AI. She advised him that the nearest Wednesday with a space for you is Wednesday, 19th November! However, they had some news to hand him. The Covid and Flu jabs are no longer done at home; we have to book an appointment with a chemist ASAP. We gave up! Inchy: Do you know, I’m leaving you now, with a promise to give you a break and a little peace. I feel so guilty about badgering you! Inchie: I don’t believe you! Inchy: No, you’re right, see you tomorrow! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Woke up feeling properly poorly, well, not so good. I think I’d had a seizure in my sleep, because the moment I returned to ersatz semiconscious life, the upflowing acidic-tasting whatever it was shot up into my throat, then mouth. I’d not moved physically at all, yet felt so dizzy I thought I was going to go over, even though there was nowhere to fall to. It can be like this sometimes. I knew, Gawd knows how, that my balance was going to be a problem, with the dizziness and semi-confusion of my brain. That was a silly thing to bother telling you; that is pretty-near to usual and normal for me. Hahaha!
I’ve not been up to much most of the day, but am perking up a little now – I even had a visit from a while ago (17:15hrs), he’s still with me twenty minutes later. Jolly Good!
I took these snaps of the morning view from the kitchenette. Later, I couldn’t find the Kodak Tim 2 camera anywhere! I’m losing so many things; had it not been for the Carers, I’d have lost the TV remote twice, my watch, my diabetes and dementia badges, my reading glasses, and on three occasions, my keys. All this last week. I expected things would get worse, but this habit of misplacing or losing things is still painful to accept. With the Carer’s help, I eventually found them, but not the Kodak.
However, I did make a late start on this blog, cause I wasn’t up to it earlier; so little on it, I’m afraid. So, less of the usual dollop of uninteresting stuff.
Just finished the Ode that isn’t an Ode above. I enjoyed doing this one.
Dumbfounding! CorelDraw has crashed! Bloody glad I got the graphics done first.
I was about to turn it all off and on again, in hopes of self-correction, and I was hastily summoned to the Porcelain Throne. A marathon of marathons session. The second long one this week, but this one was more persistent, and came with regular colouring!
No luck with CorelDraw,
However, WordPress also confused me, which is nothing new, of course. Many readers will have suffered various quirks, idiosyncrasies, irregularities, kinks, and oddities, I’m sure. My problem was losing my concentration, and things I used to handle almost with ease now baffle me. I tried for ages to get the Hepta font, which I’m using in the editor. Trouble with my short-term memory, and I cannot recall how I got it a few years ago. But the Hepta semi-bold font is ideal, cause Glaucoma Gladys can read it easier. But after thinking I’d got it going, only the medium one showed on the editor and review page. As I chirped up a bit, I tried again to change them in the editor. I thought I was doing what I had done before, but then found another option for changing the default font that didn’t have any Hepta options. I dug deeper and found that if I left the Default option on and clicked the square next to it, I could choose default Semi-bold and try it. Now I see semi-bold on this editor as I write, and also on the review page. Have I cracked it? Hang on, I’ll check that again. Dragknuckles and Megarollicks! The preview showed a different font! I pressed F5, and it showed as Hepta. Do you think I’m too old to ever get something right again? Ejaz came as I was trying to figure out where the blood was coming from while I was shaving. It was pouring down my neck, but the tissues plonked on my head showed no red stuff. Ejaz to the rescue again. He spotted that I’d cut the tab on my earhole. He got the plasters and put one on for me, bless him. He’s a good lad to me. I was under the impression that Ejaz had arrived a little late, so I asked him if he was alright. He took a snap of it. After he’s gone, I realised my cock-up again. One I’ve made, I think, for the last three years at least..I’d forgotten the clocks went back last night! I shall apologise on his next call. What a twit – I’m beginning to worry about my wayward ways with my memory, loss of balance, taking three hospitalised tumbles this year (up to now), Dizzy spells, Arithmaphobia, and the mounting medical appointments that I can’t get a lift to. The Dentist, the Diabetes Clinic, the Audiology clinic, and the neurologists at the Queen’s Medical Centre. Not to mention DVT Warfarin one.
I prepared an easy meal for myself for when Ejaz has done his next-to-last call. Vegetable curry, with Fung-Po sauce, Bovril, water chestnuts and vinegar added. Two bread cheesy-topped rolls were added.
Blogging when Carer Ejaz arrived. Health Check figures checked, Body Check, Under padding and leg straps put back on. Medications Given. He laughed when I told him I’d missed the clock change again. So did I, but still annoyed myself.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – I envisage getting in trouble if I meet St. Peter, Will he be rigid, stern, or a compromiser? Understanding, compassionate, or a despiser? Grim Reaper says he’s an educator, What’s the point in my getting any wiser? Is St. Peter a prison guard, or a confession-taker? Immigrant assessor, or a boarder protector? Is he real, human, an alien or made of ether? I see gates & railings surrounded by arboriculture, If I get in, will there be a cyberculture? Will there be an Oligarch or an arbitrageur? Or politicians, murderers? I’m not sure, Will I be classed as a voyager or voyeur? I imagine it will be a different culture… Heaven, spirits walking around in a djellaba, Hell? What can they wear? Asbestos, due to fire? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Will there be Angels, Wraiths awaiting? How deep will the interviewing be? They may engage in serious, in-depth questioning, Will there be divination by alectryomancy? Can I still get my Warfarin and Amoxycillin? Will I need them? No, I’m being silly… Will there be signs? This way, no smoking? Will Hell have a fire escape, to flee… Can Hell catch fire? Just asking! Will lost relatives be waiting for me? Stalin or Hitler? That’d be foreboding! Will Hell be full of virulency & acrimony?,
This shouldn’t bother me if I’m not breathing. Would Heaven be full of veracity & honesty? Will they allow Be-Bopping and burping? Hell, filled with Politicians & the Oligarchy? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – In Heaven, could anyone contract an infection? Maybe withcraft, or ecumenicalism? Could one be happy? Find eudaimonism? Avoid floccinaucinihilipilificationism? Life has left me thoroughly forfoughten, Mainly due to my bad luck & depression… Will I ever get my trephination operation? I never did have any guts or gumption, Will Heaven give me any redemption? Will I still suffer from constipation? That was another daft suggestion! At St Peter’s Gate, we’ll be dead, no question! Will we get our hearing back for the interrogation? Will it matter where we lived? Which Nation? I think being honest is best, an obligation… Even over my failures and cohabitation, I made far too many wrong decisions, Did things without the needed permissions! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Many of my decisions were wildly extensible,
Options, choices taken, were empirical,
I think getting through the gates is epochal,
It matters not if my brain is extracorporeal,
Mayhap Heaven & Hell are Ethereal?
Undoubtedly, it involves the extradimensional,
At times, I thought it was all science fictional,
Elusive, not there, a fantasy, an eschewal, Contrived my humans, who were fissilingual, Who claimed knowledge, to be fatidical, I thought it was all a load of falderal, But now the gates wait for my arrival! – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Historical or mythical – causational excuses? Consisting of a dream, unreal fantasies… See the number of flat-earth believers? But blind faith can often be bounteous, I, uneducated, show a certain skepticalness, When High-Horis visits, I’m at my slaphappiest, Horis is now on one of his longest-ever visits! Writing this Ode’s been my easiest… It flowed, cause I’m at my contentedist… In a Sod-Them-All mode, & feeling blessed, But will St.Peter understand my gist? I feel drunk, but I’m a teetotalist, But there’s no telling how long I’ll be unstressed, Free, unreserved, or unrepressed… This Ode may not be one of my best… I just needed to get things off of my chest! Before I get to St Peer, where I hope to be blessed. – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
0615hrs: I stirred, and as I was taking off the nocturnal catheter bag, I showed a lack of concern. No worrying, and no fretting about the things that lie ahead, no plans or thoughts in my bonce. Then realised I was having a visit from ! A real ‘Sod-Em-All’ moment. I rose, did the balance exercises —no wah, shave, teeth, or anything. It didn’t even bother me when I discovered away, and felt the need for the . I limped contentedly to the wet room and got seated on the throne. A good ten minutes later, the painful, concentrated Constipation-Conrad-controlled evacuation was over. Then the cleanup and medication were done. No wash, just the hands.
Carer Ejaz arrived and noticed that the top of the catheter on the right leg looked much better. I found out later that I used the wrong photo, but it was too late to change it. Tsk! Ejaz then did a body check. Phorpain-gelled the left Cartilage, Chloe, and the fractured knee. Gave me medications, Codeine 30g, Atorvastatin, Lameprozole, Ramipril, Furosemide and Beta-Blockers, and made an Anti-Constipation drink for me. Then barrier creamed the Acne & Eczema spots on my back, underarm and under man-breasts. He then formed new spots on the top of my leg. Then, Ejaz helped me with the Health Checks. As you can see above, they are still a smidhe too high, and it has been 13 days now. Must phone on Monday, might ring 111, cause we can never get through to the Doctors. He’s a good lad.
The Iceland delivery arrived after Ejaz departed. The driver noticed my Dememtiua badge on my dressing gown, and was as short & curt as he usually is. Which was nice, though it didn’t bother me much. Horis was still with me. I took some snaps of the fodder. Tomatoes, Teiyaki crisps, nibbles for the nurses, drinkies put in the fridge for them. Cumberland mini sausage, pork pies, chicken thighs and cheapo imitation smoked ham. Some baking potatoes, doing one of them tonight, I think. I got the iced coffees in the fridge safely. I had to mop up a fair bit of water from the refrigerator. Mmm?
Got on the computer, as Horis Sensation started to wear off a little. And I prepared for the arrival of . He never fails to appear after Horis fades; he’s like clockwork —the git!
Depression arriving, I nipped out on the balcony to take some shots. This one caught the shadow of my block of flats. Of course, they are not really my flats, I just live in them… well, I say live… Then one of the sky to the front of the apartments. Then I deleted hundreds of emails to free up space on the computer.
I was working on the blog when returned. I was overjoyed! It seemed I abandoned my inhibitions when doing this Ode, and so easily the words flowed. Of course, I wasn’t checking them, not when in a ‘Sod-Em-All’ mode.
As I got yesterday’s blog updated and sent off, and this above Ode finished… faded, and Depression Darius returned. They kept changing nearly all day, from the lowest to the highest and back again. This wrangled me a bit. At least Horis was there for the Odeing session.
Winwood Courts end car park at the end of Citrys Way. Note the lack of the small red car on the chevrons? The same direction, but higher up, catching some of the balconies of the flats in the picture. It came out a little lighter than it was.
I treated myself to a packet of Sticky Teriyaki Walker’s crisps. I’ve taken to these, after Ejaz said how nice they tasted.
Ejaz did the last but one call of the day. He noted I had some potatoes to bake and asked me to add them to my next order. Salt, plain yoghourt, Tandorri Masala, Chilli powder, white vinegar, coriander, and orange food colouring. So, I did! I added them to next Wednesday’s order. He’ll make me some seasoning to have with chicken and potatoes. I’m up to try that.
Got the nosh prepped and served up. Mmm!
A day of multiple changes of mood. Horis’s best day, I think, but with the inevitable return to Depression-Darius always following, I didn’t get the full benefit; But thanks anyway, to Horis!
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – If there is a creator, A human being’s maker… And mahap, a world creator? A Universal manipulator-manager? A taking the piss-connoisseur? A being, a God, or a creature?
An atmospheric-based AI server?
Who toyed with the death of the dinosaur,
Cavemen appeared from the sea or river,
Eventually, inventing things like fire,
Clubs to get sex, then candle-power,
Giving humans dominion over fish? Or,
permitted us to make our own culture,
With vague guidelines, a schadenfreude?
Jealousy, greed, the urge to murder,
Wars, battles, more urges to conquer,
Swords to guns, death-tolls ever-higher,
Politicians, Oligarchs, greedily prosper,
Proletariats employed as a gravedigger,
Due to stink, we invented the sewer,
Then our weapons went nuclear,
We learned to use threats and fear…
Each leader, a prospective queller,
This is why so many are drug sellers,
There have never been so many murders,
This is not counting the endless wars,
So many faiths, constant supersedure,
Ordinary folk are getting ever maudliner,
Oligarch, politician, each a thimblerigger,
Only their wealth grows bigger, All houses of faith are no longer sacra, Did you expect this? No need to answer, Not that you ever have, of my prayer, Why have you permitted our technomania? Politicians developing megalomania? Child Molesters, those with kleptomania? Speaking as an Englander… I think we are getting stupider… We’ve gone & voted in Labour! Worst of all, the PM is Starmer! Let me know why, please, Sir… Will I ever get wiser? – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – Catch up from yesterday. Carer Mirza made the last call tonight. Great to see him for more than one reason. First, he is in the same mould as Carer Ejaz. During his visit, I lost the TV remote. We both searched. Even moved the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, eyesore-horrendously grungy, disease-fermenting second-hand, beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, itch-encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, catheter tube yanking, recliner, in case it has slid underneath. Mirza checked my dressing-gown pockets, under the bed, all the drawers, and the kitchen… I couldn’t believe it; I heard something fall while I was in the recliner. We moved the ottomans, looked in them, and on the floor, but no remote control. As I was checking under the Carer’s table in the catheter tackle box, in case I’d dropped it in there, Carer Mirza declared he’d found it! Yahoo! It had slipped… don’t laugh, if you can help it, it was in a pouch on the side of the recliner. He told me they put that on all of them so you can store the remote control safely. Fool? I am a fool? No, that’s not a strong enough word! Tsk! I need help.
Last night’s meal
Skyline before getting my head down. But the event of the evening kept from drifting off; mostly self-demamatory thoughts, and joined in.
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06:15hrs: Got the nocturnal catheter pouch off of the day bag. As I stood up, I remembered to do the balance exercises. As I was doing them, the need for the Porcelain Throne arrived. So, after a couple of minutes, I was on my way to the wetroom. This session caught me off guard and left me a bit confused. The movement was of a Trotsky Terence style. But the pain it gave me was terrific. That’s the wrong word!
I gathered the Health Check clobber and put it on the c1968, tatty, scruffy, unkempt, uncomfortable, virus, microorganism, bug, bacterium, bacillus, germ, parasite producing, and disease-fermenting second-hand, eyesorely-horrendously grungy beige-coloured, £300, charity shop bought, crumb-retaining, moth-eaten, non-working, bacillus encouraging, incommodious, Haemorrhoid Harold testing, recliner. When the Carer arrived to do the tests for me.
Carer Ejaz arrived minutes later; I had thought he would be a little earlier. He’s bought a car, a Vauxhall Nova. He showed it to me on the balcony, parked in the front car park. I took a photo of it… But, as with so many lately, it had disappeared into the ether from the SD card when I got around to loading it into CorelDraw. How does that happen so often? Ejaz issued the medications, Peptac, removed the straps and under-cover from both feet, and checked how Lymphorrhea Leslie’s legs were looking. They looked far better now. After refitting both leg straps and undercovers, he began a body check and came across a worrying sight. He photod it. It seems I am now getting the Lymphorrhea Leslie effect above the knees! Blobules of lymph fluid had appeared overnight. We’ll see how they go before telling the District Nurses. I have known myself to get them and tell the nurses who come three days later that they had all but vanished. So we weren’t too worried. Of course, I may regret saying that. Hehe! Ejaz carried out the Health Checks. The BP is still a little too high, as it has been all week… again. Thankfully, the lad was like his usual self.
I made a brew of tea, but with a touch of sadness. My small China mug. It had fine, thin spiderweb cracks and was leaking away. (A bit like the new day catheter bags, Humph!) I sulked a little and realised with my luck, it had to happen! I loved that mug; the tea tasted so much better. Sob! The mugs Jenny gifted me are still here, unbroken though. Thanks, Jenny.🤎
A TEMPORARY PANIC! I was working on the blog and using Word Hippo to aid with the Ode, and everything froze. Word Hippo was immediately closed. Then a Warning came up about Word Hippo being a dangerous site. I’ll see if I can find another alternative site to use, and I deleted it from the icon list. Shame it was an incredible site; before they went advert-mad. So easy and intuitive to use. Humph! Does anyone know of a safe, similar site to try? Then I got a warning from Norton about WordHippo being a dangerous site. Offering to do a free Entire Site Virus check. So, I clicked ‘Yes’ at 10:30hrs. Life went into limbo then. It checked my computer, then the extra storage thingy, and then even the ancient (1989) CorelDarw clipart CD. Which, if I followed it correctly, told me it had 184,000 pieces of (terrible) childlike clipart on it, that needed to be checked. A long job! I went into the kitchen, handwashed some socks, hung them up to dry, and returned to watch as the number of checked files rose on the screen. I took a photo of the lovely sky. Returned to the computer and waited for the checks to be completed by Norton. Which they were, at 12:30hrs! With a result that I least expected. ‘Nothing to resolve,’ it told me. Also, I had to close and open the computer after these checks and any corrections were completed. So, I did. Opening it up and the browser, then CorelDraw. I thought another mug of tea was in order after that marathon do-nothing session. ! I’d left the hot water tap (faucet) running, and the water had gone stone cold! So much for my planned afternoon ablution session!
Life is getting much harder! Problems coming at me like an armada! Life is no longer avuncular, I fear I’ve got aprosexia, All I want is ataraxia, I frequently get dysphoria, I grow emotionally knurlier, And I walk into doors and furniture!
Ejaz returned for his quick 13:00hrs check.
Then the toenail cutter arrived. She coped with having to remove the straps & underpads from both legs and feet to get at the toenails, £35!
Bonus Cartoon from 2023
Crude, but funny? Haha!
Ejaz did his teatime call, checked on the straps, and new Lymphoria bloblets; they seemed no worse. While creaming the knee, he asked if the legs were bothering me. I replied, “No, they have been calm all day!” Seconds later, as I moved from the chair… ARRGH! I think it was a combination of Arthur Itis and Cartilage Chloe giving me grief; between them, they almost had me over. Hehehe!
I set about removing hundreds of posts from the WP gallery that were from a 2023 search. But I did find some Odes that I could do back then in graphic form; can’t today —not enough memory. Which prompted me to have a clear-out on the WP gallery. Having to delete them one at a time, it took me ages. Does anyone know a quicker way, please?
Well, time to get a meal of some sort, sorted.
I got some mini-potatoes cooking in the oven. A can of mild curry, with Bovril & vegetable seasoning added. Heated this in the microwave, and added the potatoes to the pot, added some vinegar to the potatoes, and got in the aged, grotty-looking, c1966 made, charity-shop-bought, horribly beige-coloured, £300, Harold’s Haemorrhoid-testing, non-operational, acne-giving, virus-breeding, rickety, easy-to-fall-out-of recliner. Put a recorded ‘Heartbeat’ episode on, and dined away, I almost felt content then. But… As I stood up with the tray in my hand, gave way on me! Luckily, I avoided a meeting with the floor by leaning back into the recliner… With a thud, a clatter from the dropped tray as it spread the contents all over the carpet, and felt the blood coming from ! The protection pants at least stopped it from leaking and running down my legs, onto the bottom, and onto the cushion. t stung a bit! It’s better than having another tumble and weeks spent in the hell-hole of a hospital. I appreciated this even while suffering in relative agony as I tried to get up again. t seemed that Catheter Chloe and Arthur Itis were upset with me plopping down, and showed me this in their usual way – pain-giving! umph! I put the tray and things in the kitchen sink to soak; the water was at last warming up a bit. Off to the wet room to change the PPs, clean up and medicate Arthur Itis and Chloe. Strangely, the most painful part of it all was getting the PPs on. artilage, Chloe, and I assume the fractured bones in the left knee meant pain when genuflecting the knee. The leg had to be lifted to fit in the holes. Haha!
I finally got things sorted and medicated, and limped off to the kitchenette to wash the pots – so glad I hadn’t left the tap running!
Carer Ejaz did his last call. He left the nocturnal bag out for me to fit later. Ejaz offered me Peptac and a Codeine 30g, which I accepted.
I didn’t tell him of the near tumble and hassle I’d had – I’m forever relating my accifauxpas, Whoopsiedangleplops, lost items and so on to him.Must be a bore, class one to him.
After the lad had gone, I did the safety check around the flat before retiring. Lights off, fridge & freezer doors closed, windows shut. Taps (Faucets) not left running in the kitchen or wetroom, heater not left on in the wetroom, and shower turned off at the plug. And the door was locked.
Fell asleep with relative ease tonight and had a dream, but I cannot recall its theme. Tsk! I slept for 7… I say seven hours!
